There are always times that test the heart- such is the fate of mankind. Evil is always waiting for the chance to strike; however, evil can only conquer when good men and women do nothing.

FINAL FANTASY VII: Orchrist

They had all felt it. The listless wandering from one day to the next had been so much a part of their lives before he came. After that, the countless adventures and trials they had all shared helped to ease the mental unrest.

It was only then that they had finally found a true purpose- a solidarity that held them together even through the most tortuous of tribulations. The path they had to tread was mercifully unequivocal with little room for deviation in their relentless pursuit of that ever-elusive goal.

But it would never last. Once their only calling had been fulfilled, the insouciant pattern returned with renewed vigor. Indeed, without any true sort of semblance, friendships dissolved into so much as dust that in turn scattered to all the corners of the globe. The light each had so cherished died, taking with it any hope that one day the friends may reunite.

So it was that one Tifa Lockhart returned to the only métier she knew, unknowing that for the first time in two years, things were going to change for the better.

Or worse.

FFVII

"Yo, Tifa!" a frantic patron shouted over the racket.

Tifa merely regarded him incredulously. It was the same man who had called her not five minutes ago to tell her he was ready to pay his tab, only to change his mind at the last minute. Normally she wouldn't mind customers paying her gil, but this would be the third time he'd done so, and it was starting to get irritating.

Rather than have the man change his mind on her again, Tifa merely filled an empty mug with her cheapest ale and brought it over to him.

He had already pulled out his wallet before she arrived, but one look at the swig made him promptly pocket it.

"When I die of some horrible disease after drinking your homemade liquor, I want you to put flowers on my grave!" he pouted as he graciously accepted the next round.

"Don't like it, don't come," Tifa deftly replied, spinning around quickly so that her braid barely missed smacking into the side of the man's head.

"I hope you saw that!" he said to no one in particular as he tried to regain his composure. "She's really trying to kill me!"

"Put a sock in it, Darious!" someone else in the room shouted.

"Don't you two start," Tifa cautioned. "You all know what happened the last time someone made a ruckus in my bar."

Everyone in the room visibly shuddered. The royal beating she had bestowed upon the last unlucky patron to cross her was fortunate to be able to walk.

What surprised everyone was that he had stumbled into the bar the very next morning to apologize for his behavior the previous night. Well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that everyone but Tifa had been surprised. Maybe she was just more perceptive than most, but it seemed to her that over these past two years, the remaining population had become much more amiable.

For most, an inexplicable meteor hurdling down towards the planet's surface was more than enough to remind them to cherish the remainder of their lives in such a way as to make the simple act of living a more meaningful experience for everyone. While it was true that the message had faded with time, most people still clung to their modified lifestyles with a vengeance, refusing to give in to the temptation to fall back to their old ways, despite the recent trend that showed just that.

As is mankind's wont, civilization began to move forward again, but this time without a loss of civility. Though most of the cities still lay in ruins, the population was now able to walk beneath the clearest of blue skies for the first time in decades, basking in the warmth of sunlight that had been denied them for so long. The stench of Midgar had so been driven from people's minds that if ever a town like it was to be re-created, it was so far into the future as to be considered impossible.

As for the people who returned to their old ways, well...as long as they weren't too outspoken they were relatively ignored. It wasn't so much a question anymore as to what anyone believed, but rather how they lived those beliefs. Being true to one's own self was favored highly, as long as it was within the bounds of reason.

There was, however, a downside to all of this. Once again, as if she had gained a sort of divine insight, Tifa seemed to be the only one concerned with the way things were headed. While on the surface everything seemed all right, she could sense the oncoming turbulence. Soon there would be only two types of people: those who accepted the past for what it was and moved on, and those who would desperately try to hold on to this Utopian euphoria with all of their might. Hopefully, the scales would remain balanced until some sort of affirmative solution could be conjured.

Add all of that to the fact that a strange malady seemed to be spreading throughout a lot of the younger generation at an alarming rate. So far it hadn't proved to be a terminal illness; nevertheless, it set many people on edge as they wondered whether or not it was contagious.

A small alarm in the back of the store began to charm, signaling that it was now past closing time. An audible groan escaped everyone's lips, but Tifa would have none of it.

"If I never closed, you people would stay in here forever!" she shouted over their objections. "I'm just one, lonely old woman running a two man show!"

"I'll marry you, Tifa!" someone shouted from the back.

"I'll think about it if you leave," Tifa replied.

The poor man didn't even know what hit him. After singling himself out by being the first and only person to stand, Tifa zeroed in on him with a rather large cork aimed straight at his head.

"Goddammit, Tifa!" he all but screamed, "You lost your chance- for tonight, anyway. Eeep!" he cringed as Tifa took a menacing step towards him. Quickly, he escaped through the front door, followed by a few other laughing patrons as well.

"All right, the rest of you leave, too," Tifa pushed, ushering out some and literally kicking out the less cooperative.

Once the last of her customers had left, Tifa slowly closed the door but left it unlocked. Marlene would be coming home soon, and sometimes in the process of cleaning the racket was so loud that Tifa could not hear the poor girl knocking.

Glancing over the task that lay before her, Tifa took a slow, deep breath and leaned over to pick up the first of many chairs.

To tell the truth, she actually enjoyed this part of the day, where she actually was able to take care of the only thing she could ever really call her own. The bar she'd owned in Midgar hadn't originally belonged to her, and the atmosphere there was so lifeless and morose that it was almost impossible for her to get many customers. If it weren't for the fact that it doubled as a home for herself and a base for AVALANCHE then she probably would have had to shut it down.

This place, however, was different. The reborn "Seventh Heaven". True, it wasn't fancy or anything- most of the buildings were a hodgepodge of broken metal and glass thrown together after Meteor decimated the city- but it was truly her own. She'd painstakingly made sure that everything was spotless before she opened her doors every day. The small windows she'd installed along the front of the building allowed the gentle sunlight to ease its way indoors during the day, and at night the brown curtains made of bed sheets were pulled so that no one could peek inside. Many of the tables were items she'd found in the wreckage of Midgar, along with a few of the chairs. All of the others were a mixture of pipes with wooden seats on one end, upside-down hampers, and even a few she'd made herself! Of that fact, she was particularly proud. After all, once the world had been saved she had a lot of free time to take up a few hobbies.

Since the upstairs served as her and Marlene's living quarters there was much more attention to detail. The top of the stairs leading up was greeting by a rather imposing door with several dead bolts (after all, two ladies couldn't take chances, no matter how much the world had changed). Beyond that door, however, was a well lit and well furnished room, complete with two covered beds, a nightstand and dresser, as well as a small vanity Tifa had given Marlene for her last birthday (handmade, of course). Off to the side was a small but functional bathroom with a shower. A tempered glass dome allowed some sunlight through without sacrificing privacy.

All in all, Tifa felt she had done very well for herself. Especially considering the fact that the value of gil had taken a nosedive so much that even the amount she'd accumulated over her travels was all but worthless. The cost of living, however, had lowered somewhat as well, so it had been enough to allow Tifa the chance to get a relatively steady income.

Now, glancing over at the small clock on the wall, Tifa noticed that Marlene was unusually late again. Normally, Marlene would get home when Tifa was about halfway through the chores, but these past few nights she'd been getting home later- a lot later. As a matter of fact, as Tifa finished righting the last overturned chair and wiping the last dirty spot off of the tables, she wondered if it would be wise to go out and look for her?

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door before it slowly opened. The short, brown-haired Marlene quickly made her way through, shutting and bolting the door after her as she came.