Flirting With Death: Day In, Day Out

Tifa leaned over the stain polished countertop of the tavern. Her hair fell forward to brush the smooth surface as she bit her lip in concentration. Her eyes were trained steadily on the phone, as though she expected it to ring; perhaps if she willed it hard enough, she might get a call from someone whose voice she wished to hear.

If no one else, at least from him. He owed her that much.

Cloud...

She had wanted to stick by his side through it all; no matter how awkward it would inevitably get, she had promised herself that she would handle it. She wanted to show him that she could be there for him, because he meant that much to her, and that it made no difference what trials came into their lives; he could depend on her when things got tough.

He should have known that he could depend on her.

He had told her that he understood, that he truly appreciated everything that she had done for him. But he felt he had to shoulder his burdens alone; she shouldn't have to be as supportive as she was when she had her own life waiting for her. He'd thought he'd known her hopes and dreams, and he couldn't make them a reality, because his heart was unsettled.

He had helped her at first, for three months after Meteor. He'd helped her with the tavern, helped to get her settled into a new life. She'd agreed, and she'd let him draw her a plan, let him give her a purpose. Something to live for, now that she had her whole future ahead of her, and she didn't know what to do with it.

It had felt good, to be able to give her something back after all she'd given of herself. And he'd known that it would hurt her when he told her she couldn't go with him, if only for the reason that she felt she owed him something. It seemed she would never let him repay her. To him, it was her way of keeping him in her life, and the idea that he wanted to rid himself of his debt and thus be rid of her would kill her. That's how she would take it; she would think that he was done with her, and that he only wanted to leave in good conscience.

He'd tried to stabilize her, tried to give her a steady foundation. He'd wanted to make sure that when he was gone, she would be fine by herself. Of course, Tifa was capable of surviving on her own, but he had wanted her life to be one of quality, where she had something to her name that she could be proud of. Tifa's Tavern was just that thing.

But the longer he'd stayed and put off his own plans, the more he knew it would hurt her. After three months had passed, he walked into the tavern, and he'd told her that he'd be leaving.

She'd been silent at first, but then she'd perked up suddenly and gave him her best smile. That horrible, wonderful, fake smile that had easily fooled so many others and spited her face. It cut at him, and he began to wonder whether or not she would really be all right.

She told him; she was a big girl, and she could take care of herself. One carefully placed wink in his direction, and all doubt had been dispelled from his mind. Tifa was going to make it on her own, and she wouldn't be needing his help anymore.

They had said their goodbyes, but part of her had been hanging on every word, waiting for the moment when he would catch on, hoping that he would see how insincere she was. And then maybe he would stay.

He'd flashed her a winning smile before he headed out the door, casually admitting that he didn't know when he'd be seeing her next. And then he was gone from her sight. He couldn't know how long she'd spent slumped on the floor of the bar, crying bitterly, angry at herself and angry at him. Who, exactly, had they been trying to deceive with false pleasantries?

It had been a perfect, cloudless day, and she had been in the perfect mood until then.

Now the skies above Neo-Midgar were grey, and a heavy storm was on its way. Tifa tore her gaze away from the phone long enough to step outside and feel the morning mist on her shoulders. The forecast had predicted that the rain would last all day long, and she expected a swell of patrons just before it hit, scrambling to get at their "medicine" before they'd have to walk through a deluge to find it.

The fact that so many people were still struggling to rebuild their lives, combined with the fact that Tifa had a license to sell spirits by the bottle, had been quite conducive to the rise in stress level she had been experiencing. It was good for business; she'd been able to hire some help just before Cloud had left. Will and Jolene were a brother and sister pair, new to the city and looking for anyone that would have them. The extra hands had allowed Tifa enough time and space for more patrons, and she had acquired a considerable amount of savings, on top of what she paid her staff. She didn't know what she would ever do without them.

In fact, she was beginning to feel sort of...

Stuck.

Surrounded by the morose and their despairs each day, watching them as they drowned their sorrows, Tifa had begun to think that maybe she wasn't living the life she had hoped for. She was safe, for the most part, and financially stable. But there was a spot in the young fighter's heart that was far too soft for the daily grind, and she couldn't seem to harden herself to the idea that she could end up living her life as a feeding trough.

Maybe one day, things would get better. Maybe when Midgar had finished rebuilding, and there was finally something else to celebrate, the spirits of the city would liven up. As if barely escaping total annihilation wasn't enough to be happy about. Tifa was restless. It couldn't be that bad everywhere, could it?

She thought over the places she had been, the things she had seen. She had been happier travelling the world with her band of misfits, strangers forced into close quarters for the mission that bound them all to each other. She missed her friends.

Barrett had gone to Corel, another place that had needed rebuilding, and he had taken Marlene with him. She missed them both very much, and wondered if the people in Corel were anything like the citizens of Midgar, or if they had found some common ground to hold them together. Barrett had felt responsible for much of Corel lying in ruin, and so he was determined to do his part in rebuilding the town.

Tifa wondered what had become of Nanaki; she was sure he couldn't stay away from Cosmo Canyon for too long. He was eager and always searching for knowledge, so it wouldn't be farfetched to assume he had done some travelling, but she knew that he would always return home. He had a sense of pride about him, now that he had discovered his origins. He felt he had much to live up to.

Reeve had been occupied with the reconstruction projects in Midgar, and she had hardly had any time to see him at all. She thought of Yuffie then, trying to run Wutai in her father's shadow. She could only imagine the young ninja squirming atop her throne, unable to sit still long enough for any serious matter.

Tifa worried about Vincent. He hadn't made any mention of where he planned to go when they had all parted ways. Back then, she had let him go, thinking that he wouldn't want to be bothered by any intervention. She feared he might return to his coffin, curious as to whether or not he even could. It bothered her to think of him living a lonely life, full of regret. Of course, if he really wanted to talk to someone, Cid was on the other side of the mountains...

And as she thought of the old pilot, she visualized him soaring through the skies on his ship, free to see the world and explore it to his heart's content. Shera would be there, too, waiting on him hand and foot. Bless her heart; she cared too much for her own good.

It was at that moment that Tifa became aware of how stationary her life had become. Though she had been through so much pain, the fact that she survived had made her feel alive; everything had changed for her as soon as she left the walls that surrounded Midgar. Her drive to reclaim her life from the man who had taken it had given her a passion that kept her up each night until it was over, and even into the nights following.

This energy had led her to brave darkness and uncertainty, even in the face of possible desertion. If she truly had to, she would have gone down fighting with Cloud. She'd felt like she could have done anything in the world, and once the battle was over, she believed it.

Suddenly she felt very alone in the world.

She turned back to face the tavern she and Cloud had established together. The doors beckoned her to return, to wallow in more self-pity, the only thing they had to offer her. She walked up to the empty building and reached into her pocket, grasping for the small bit of metal that would change her world.

It was a whim, but she trusted her instincts wholeheartedly; she always had, ever since she was a child growing up in Nibelheim. She would follow her heart as long as she lived. If that meant the bar would die, then the bar would die. It wasn't her dream to begin with.

She locked the doors and ran all the way home.