final fantasy vii and all its characters © squaresoft, inc.

a/n:
Several days before he met Aeris, Cloud sought Tifa in Nibelheim for a little tête-à-tête in a rainy day.

To the Sky

side story
rainy days

.

Tifa Lockhart sighed. Resting her chin on her palm, she began stirring a small metal spoon on her teacup.

It was black, as she adjusted her teabag too many a time. But that was how she wanted it. Dark, thick, bitter, with a hint of sweet. She did not forget to pour the contents from a pale violet jar, labeled HONEY with stencil case, as substitute for sugar. She hated sugar, and had always been. Even though most of her customers grant sugar for sweeteners, she still hated sugar.

But she did not care. This was her drink. Her cup of tea. She made it solely for herself. If there was anyone who ordered tea, she would bluntly serve it with a cup of boiled water, a clean teabag, and two blocks of sugar. No one in her bar had ever requested honey, so she cared less.

Poking gently at the floating smolder, Tifa pulled her cup to a point before her nose. A tender scent of blackcurrant filled her nostrils. She smiled in satisfaction.

Not many of her customers liked blackcurrant tea. Most of their preordered teas would had to be lemon, or green tea, or plainly regular ones. In actuality, Tifa had a variety of costume-flavored teabags laying in her closet, but not all of them were put to use, especially banana. (Truthfully, she wondered why there were people who liked banana-flavored tea.)

Faint sounds of contacts between thrashing downpours and her window sill ensued.

Somewhat drew back to reality, Tifa glanced to the window. The light, sprinkling drizzle had turned to what resembled a heavy rain. Another sigh. She took a peep at her customers.

The dark brunette was not surprised many of them were soaked, covered with filth that was either transparent and moist. The moment water had reached the face of the ground, she predicted beverages such as hot chocolate and coffee and tea would be the customer's pick, and instantly went to her cabinets to serve the desired ingredients. She can now barely see an opened grey pot with very little coffee beans left in store.

Tifa took a short walk to the window, still carrying her mug, ruby orbs peeping to the other side of the looking glass. Dark clouds filled her vision. With her dim and flickering lights and candlesticks, the Seventh Heaven looked nothing but dark.

And it was raining.

Oh, how she loathed the rain.

Nothing good happens in rainy days.

As a faint chime sounded from the bells of her front door, Tifa promptly lifted her head and voiced her usual "Welcome to Seventh Heaven," greeting. Normally, she never bothered to look who the newcomer was. But now, as she laid eyes on this person, she was glad to had looked at him.

He was indeed familiar. Or rather, too familiar. Tifa's eyes were first caught to the huge oversized blade the young man brandished on his back, which seemed to be taller than the wielder himself. Then there was the hair--blond, slick, and bristly. Raindrops ran gently down his dark leather vest, shining like shimmers of stardust sprinkled around his chest. More were dripping from his hip-length boots, which were kneecapped with iron. Cerulean pools wandered about.

"Cloud!" she beamed in unexpected wonder and delight, "What a pleasant surprise!"

Rubbing the pointy edge of his flourished, elevated hair, Cloud waved a hand, "Hey, Tifa."

"Have a seat, and," Tifa gestured a hand to an empty stool before her, examining the excessive drops of water pouring around his feet, "do you need a towel?"

"Ah," Cloud grunted, placing his Buster sword beside the coat-hanger, "that would really help."

"Okay," the bar hostess opened a cabinet beside the one containing mugs and the likes. Not long after, Cloud saw a white clean towel around her arm. "here you go."

"Thanks." he took the towel from her offering hand, and began wiping every inch of face.

Tifa looked at Cloud for a moment, and studied his face. It had a pale complexion, perhaps because of the rain. But still, it did not cease her from looking at him. Tifa had always been quite fond of Cloud's face. He was not exactly handsome, but he was not bad-looking at all. There was something very attractive of him, both in and out. And even though Tifa had long ago given up her feelings to him, she still thought he was quite the looker. Imagine what man he would made five years from now.

"Hmm?" sapphire orbs peeped up, "Something on my face?"

"W-Wha," Tifa's face glowed faint magenta. She promptly looked away. "N-No. I'm just--well--seeing things." she glanced at Cloud's flustered face, "I thought there was a ladybug on your nose... just my imagination."

Cloud frowned. Damp towel wrapped around his neck. on Faint images of the color red with black polka dots emerged. "...a ladybug?" he unconsciously rubbed his nose.

"Anyway," Tifa said aloud. She never really liked vague conversations, so she changed the subject. "you want me to fix something?"

Somehow still considering her lighthearted joke, Cloud nodded, "Sure."

"What will you have?" Tifa questioned modestly.

"Umm," the mercenary looked at the menu board, which settled neatly beside the entrance to the kitchen, "just hot chocolate. It's freezing in here."

Tifa bobbed her head sideways. "Hot chocolate?" she recapped, her eyes wandering indefinitely, "You don't want the usual black coffee? It's just as warm as chocolate, you know."

"Nah, that's okay." Cloud shook his head. A tiny bit of his face looked as if he was about to barf. "I've drank enough cups this morning, and I think I'm getting sort of caffeinated... Besides, it's been a while since I had hot chocolate."

The dark-haired chuckled. "You know," she started, "you don't look ditzy enough to be caffeinated."

"Whatever," Cloud crossed his arms impatiently, "just make me one."

"Alright, alright," and with that, Tifa left for the food storage to grab a pack of fresh cocoa.

Watching her vanished silently into curtains of bead chains, Cloud Strife spun around, and took a gaze at the cavern.

It looked very dark, despite the dark clouds the sun was covered in. Even the chandelier was not working. He was not surprised there were less people in the bar. There were even children, but Tifa did not mind at all. The rain was too heavy, he can clearly the sounds of homing wind and blistering trees. Every once in a while, he would hear a thunderstorm passing by. Keeping the kids outside would be dangerous.

Then a vague, yet beautiful, soprano voice filled his ears. He turned to the other side, and found a small stage, velvet curtains opened wide. Amidst the background of painted flowers and trees and mountains, a girl--a beautiful girl--in indigo stood, brooding. Brooding by singing.

Clattered sounds of knocking beads surfaced.

"Hey," Cloud raised a finger, "what's that?"

Slowly stirring a metal spoon, Tifa took a glance to his finger's direction. A sharp and high voice pierced her ears delicately. "That's Loveless."

"Loveless?" Cloud repeated, "That play?"

"Yes," an indistinct tinge on the spoon emerged, "but the theatre group is only doing one scene. The one with the poem. We don't have the script."

Cloud shrugged. He never really cared about plays, even if it was the distinguished Loveless. Secretly, he caught Tifa's last remark as gibberish, but he replied to it nevertheless. "Cid watched it."

"I know," Tifa began trickling a handful of marshmallows into the mug, "but he wouldn't memorize the lines. Besides, it's been a long time since the last play," she watched them white sweets melt, "I doubt he remembers the storyline."

A smirk chortled. "Typical of Cid."

Tifa smiled back. For a split second, she wondered how her friends in the Highwind were doing, but quickly stopped as a faint scent of sweet chocolate fleeted. "Anyway," she placed the bronze mug on the table, "here's your hot chocolate."

Cloud stared at it for a moment, that took the mug to his palms. A gentle smell floated again. "Thanks," he saw Tifa beamed, "and by the way, where are the others?"

"The others?" Tifa placed her hands on her hips, heaving a sigh. "Barret and the rest went to a casino at the south district, Jessie's off to buy groceries, and Marlene's taking a nap."

"Oh," the mercenary muttered. Even after the chocolate was already well-stirred, Cloud pouted at how the marshmallows were floating (which in his opinion, were like boiling lava.) He stirred his spoon firmly until the marshmallows exceeded... and disappeared.

"So," Tifa took her abandoned blackcurrant tea and sipped little of it. Thankfully, it was still warm. "what job brings you here? Every now and then you'd be going back and forth from Terrenus to Nibel."

"The usual." Cloud rested his chin on his palm. "Some noble asked me to deliver this weird statue of a big white cat to his friend around here."

"A welcoming cat?" Tifa rose a brow. A porcelain figurine of a white feline waving its paw first came to her mind. "Just so you know, you're more of a courier boy instead of a mercenary."

Cloud grunted a "Hmph," in distress. He buried his head on the table. In all honesty, he was brooding on how lowly his job was as a mercenary.

"Cloud," Tifa bent down, her soft voice trespassed his earlobes, "why don't you live in Nibelheim? The city's near to almost any territory, you don't have to worry about delivering tasks."

The blonde took it as slightly offensive. "You kidding?" he lifted his head slowly, "No matter how many times I've been here, I always get lost. Even Junon is better than this."

"Well," Tifa stretched her arms, "if you want to be a mercenary, this place is the best. This is the second biggest commercial city, you don't have to queue for jobs."

Cloud smiled lopsidedly. "Yeah, you're right. But this place is against my nature, so I don't think I would ever move here..." he took a sip of his chocolate, "By the way, this is great, Tifa."

The seventeen-year-old smiled in pleasure. "If it's against your nature then..." she thought for a moment, "why don't you join Cid's crew? You don't have to get involved with political regions."

Cloud stared at her dubiously, as if her hair had turned to snakes that would petrify him. "Naw."

She looked slightly taken back. "Why not?"

"I can't work in peace if I'm taking orders from a world-class wanted man!" Cloud twitched, "If I ever join forces with him, that'd be the end of the world!"

Tifa raised her eyebrows. He's overdoing it. "Really," she leaned on the wooden wall, "it wouldn't hurt to try new things. If not a pirate, why not a bounty hunter?" she saw his head rose, "That's what most former militia soldiers are after the war ended."

"Now I see." Cloud answered absently, "So that's why I've been seeing so many familiar faces in action." he said in a mumble, more like talking to himself, "By the way, being a bounty hunter means you're involved with the national government and such... too complicated."

Tifa shook her head incredulously. "Anyway, you still keep in touch with your old friends?"

"I can't." Cloud pouted at a small hint of solid marshmallow, "You know what happened to me during the end of the war... I got separated, remember?"

"Oh," Tifa furrowed daintily. Faint flashbacks began replaying in her head. "right."

"Besides," Cloud started, disregarding Tifa's last remark, "being a mercenary," his voice thickened, "had always been our dream..."

A glint on his navy orbs sparked, Tifa cannot look away. His eyes... they looked so sad, so empty, yet so determined. How long was it, since she saw Cloud in such state?

"I..." she can barely see a slight jiggle on his Adam's apple, "I can't let him down."

Tifa held tight to her teacup. She had only drank three swallows. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered, "I didn't mean to remind you such... painful memories..."

Cloud looked at his childhood friend for a moment. A weak smile suppressed. "It's okay." his voice trembled slightly, "I'm used to it. It's about time I have to stop brooding over his death." Although still, I can't help but to feel guilty.

The opposite smiled sympathetically.

"By the way, Tifa," Cloud deliberated, "what date is it today?"

"Umm," Tifa took a spun and glanced at her daily calendar, a large 31 written on the paper,"the thirty-first. Last day of the month."

Cloud lifted his eyebrows skeptically. "Oh, really?" he tested, "Then this should've been his birthday."

Tifa paused. She was just taking two sips of her tea. "It is??"

The eighteen-year-old nodded.

"Then," Tifa murmured softly, "he would've been nineteen by now, is it?"

Cloud stared at his mug vacantly. "Yeah,"

Tifa's heartbeat fastened unreasonably. She felt as if something was coming up.

"But still," Cloud continued, "his last his birthday wasn't very... nice."

Tifa's heart skipped three beats.

"I can remember it clearly," Cloud implied, "he just finished celebrating his fifteenth birthday, but then," he said nostalgically, "by the next two days," his voice leveled, "he died," it went deep, "died for me..."

Ruby eyes glimmered with vague tears. "Cloud..."

"It was raining..." he resumed, "that thin, long sword..." his eyes went dark, "pierced through his chest..." Cloud clenched his fists, "blood splattered everywhere..."

"CLOUD!"

A silence ensued... as it died away by the sounds of the heavy downpours. As if it was far enough not to reach them, a thunderbolt went by, revealing their blurred faces with its glorious, yet brief lightning.

"Cloud..." she began with a plea, "please, stop it..."

He stared at her. Her eyes were closed shut, as tear droplets lightly made their way down her pale cheeks. Palms were closely connected to her covered ears.

"Listening to you, no, about him..." Tifa opened her watermarked eyes slowly. "reminds me of... what happened to me..."

Cloud's eyes softened. He secretly gritted his teeth for his foolishness. He should had known better.

After a moment's silence, Tifa promptly realized tears were rolling down from her eyes. Wiping them away, she hesitated, "Oh, no... I-I'm sorry..."

"No," Cloud's bass voice shook her, "I'm the one who's sorry. I should've known better..."

"Let's just..." Tifa sniffed, wrinkling her nose, "forget about this, alright?" several tears started dropping again, "Nothing good ever happens in rainy days..."

Cloud puckered his brows quizzically. "What do you mean, Tifa?"

Tifa continued sweeping her tears away, slowly drying them away with her fingers. "Cloud," her voice broke, it was shaky, "you know what happened to me, right?"

He looked at her intently. He still did not know what she meant, but he did know the answer. "Yeah," Cloud whispered.

"You know," Tifa started, sparkling watermarks appeared in her eyes again, "that man who killed Zack... he killed Papa too..."

As if the outdoor thunder had actually caught him, Cloud's eyes grew wide in an immediate.

"He killed Papa in front of my eyes..." Tifa stared down her cup, grimacing, "and even though I wanted so much to avenge right there and then..." she held her cup tighter, "I can't..."

A pale, soulless body laid emotionlessly, facing the rain with partial opened eyes and lips. It was a man, a dead man, evidently in his forties. There were little hints and tints of blood marked all over his white blouse, but the rain had washed away the crimson color that was splattered and surrounded his body. It was not surprising that very few still managed to stay there. After all, blood was thicker than water.

Ignoring the cold, chilly deluge, a young brunette kneeled in front of the fresh carcass, facing down the paralyzed face, stroking her father's forehead as if he would answer her.

But he did not.

"Papa..." she whispered, tears sprinted as fast as the rain, "Who did this to you...?"

Then she caught a quick glimpse of an arising black cloak.

She lifted her head slightly, and took a look at a pair of large boots, matching the color of the cape. She lifted her head higher, and found a dark green vest, with a bronze crested badge attached on its right, glimmering as the water shimmered its admitting color. She lifted her head even higher, and found a pair of emerald eyes pierced into hers, like a hunting beast to its prey.

And she paralyzed.

As long, beautiful strands of platinum hair sparkled within the rain, the man in black raised his hand, a five-foot sword rested in his palm--

"You're next."

--and swung it.

Tifa felt her hands gone wet. Wet with warm water. There was a small splash, flavored blackcurrant and tea.

"Oh no," she gasped quickly, wiping her hand on her short slacks.

"T-Tifa..." Cloud ignored the spoiled tea, "You never told me your father was killed by... by him!"

"I know." Tifa said calmly, rubbing her fruit-scented hand, "I guess I forgot to tell you about it... or it's just me who hates thinking about it." she did not look at Cloud's agitated face, "Anyway, the next thing I know, I woke up in a man's house, who later took care of me and then."

"But really, Tifa," Cloud did not listen to her story's ending, "why would he kill Mr. Lockhart?"

The walnut-haired paused. She thought for a moment, but nothing came in mind. "It doesn't matter," she said listlessly, "he killed Papa and that's that. Ironically, on the same day, a year before, Mama died of Geostigma. It was raining too..." she reminiscent, "It's always raining in January, I wonder..."

Cloud did not stop to look at her. Maybe he should not had asked her too many questions. After all, Tifa had suffered just as much--or perhaps, more--as he did. Not to mention, she was a girl, and a year younger than eighteen. To think she had lost both her parents in her first year of adolescence was... sad. She even lost most of her friends, and went separated with the remains... and what could a barely thirteen-year-old girl do without her little group of friends?

Passing puberty without the closest people to you must be very hard.

"You do remember that all of our town was burned to the ground, right? You and the other boys of the town were sent to war." Tifa insisted on continuing, "Pity it was drizzling that day... the fire was still there even though it was raining..." she said in a voice so soft, it resembled a whisper, "And then everybody... everybody was gone... and Papa was the only one I had, but..."

With an empty, absent look on her eyes, Tifa did not finish, and Cloud knew what happened after that.

"I don't know why the town had to be burned down like that, and I don't understand why the royal family didn't help us either, but," Tifa shook her head vehemently, "I know I lost everything that day."

"Tifa, just so you know," Cloud piped in, eyes wandering uncertainly, "I was there."

Tifa winced. She slowly turned to face at Cloud, with a puzzled look.

"I know you didn't see me, but I was there when it all happened."

Tifa frowned subtly, somehow flashing a look of disappointment. "But," she scowled, "you never told me that. Why were you there?"

"I was sent home! My job was over! The war's ended! I forgot to tell you about that but," Cloud explained hurriedly, "when I came home to find my house in flames, you have no idea how mortified I was." he storied, "My mother was inside and... I didn't how to react. I went inside my house to find her... burned."

Tifa looked slightly alerted. She apologized, "I'm sorry..."

Cloud shook his hand, ignoring her plea. "Me and the others were preoccupied to rescuing other people, and we managed to find several survivors, including Elena." he informed, "But when I discovered you weren't in your house, I was pretty shocked."

The girl did not reply to this. So he was worried. "I've escaped the first chance I got, but I didn't find you either."

"Yeah," Cloud conceded. "Anyway, when we found out that man was in town, two of us went after him and..." he broke off, "you know the end of the story."

Tifa nodded. "And ever since that day," she took her mug into her hands and looked out at the window, watery meteor swarms were still showering, "I concluded that nothing good ever happens in rainy days."

A soft soprano voice went to the top of the notches, filling the silence.

Cloud stared at her. He secretly thought she was being overdramatic, but it was understandable. Tifa Lockhart had experienced too many dreadful things in her life, he had to admit. But to think that rainy days are always a bad sign...

"Tifa," he said distinctly, almost calling her. She stopped to look at the rain. "You remember the promise we made? You know, the one in the well."

Tifa halted. A quick flashback suggested. "Oh, that one." a chuckle suppressed, "Looking back at it now, it seems so silly. Well, we were kids back then... anything could happen."

"Yeah," Cloud wrinkled his nose. A soft warm color tingled on his cheeks. "I promised you I'll be your hero and come to rescue you when you're in danger," he flushed, "and I also promised everybody I'll protect the town. Well, that one's more of a joint promise."

"But either way," Tifa played with her bronze teaspoon, "you did promise me."

"Hmm," Cloud swallowed a mouthful of more chocolate. It was not so hot anymore. "strange how I did all those promises." he murmured, "In the end, none of them were fulfilled. Really, I thought you were dead. I was so sad."

Tifa smiled at how her childhood friend was worried about her. "It doesn't matter." she said, "You're still alive, I'm still alive, you could save that promise for other times."

Cloud glanced at her, and beamed. "...I guess you're right."

"Besides," Tifa amended, "in case you're wondering, you had save me... in a roundabout way."

Cloud lifted his chin in bewilderment.

Tifa bobbed her head. "Months after the war, I moved here and managed my own bar. I haven't met with anybody I could keep attached with but," she deliberated, "we met again, didn't we?"

Cloud raised his eyebrows. In actuality, he did not know what she meant. "Well, yeah, but," he wondered, "what does it have to with saving you?"

"I knew you'd ask that." she giggled at how Cloud was still ogling quizzically at her. "Before there was you, and Barret, and Cid, and everybody... I was breaking apart." Tifa said faintly, "I was still preoccupied by the thought that I was all alone, and I was just thirteen years old... imagine how emotional I was back then..."

Cloud fell silent. She sounded so bitter, yet very placid. Truthfully, he found Tifa Lockhart as rather impressive. Back when she was merely thirteen, she had managed to go through what she had went through--death of loved ones, loneliness, everything. She even managed her own bar by herself... and out of Cloud's surprise--especially to her--Seventh Heaven was quite a success. Newcomers to the bar would see her as a regular waitress, but in actuality, she was the owner and founder to the four-year-old tavern.

He also wondered, why he was never bored of Tifa's story--her story of her past. Maybe because it was blood-induced, or at least that was how gothic people would say. Or because it was two words but 'Girl Power'? That was Yuffie and Jessie's opinion (and to his horror, Marlene too.) Or perhaps because... she accepted cruel fate in a manner where she became better and stronger in the years to come?

That was it.

"Cloud,"

The blonde was pulled back to reality.

"You saved me from the thought that I was all alone," Tifa enlightened, "and that is more dangerous than any kind of danger."

He looked closely into her vibrant crimson eyes. It was glimmering eloquently, in a way it was signaling something to him. A look that said "Thank you,"

"I can still remember it clearly." Tifa wavered, eyes rolling about the ceiling as if an imagination cloud emitted, "It was September. Flowers blossoming everywhere." her imagination ran wild, "When I found you, I thought you were just some evil twin... but you weren't at all. I was never happier."

Cloud looked at her eyes. It was emanating a warm glow. She was happy.

"You know, Tifa," he almost surprised her, "it was raining that day."

She cringed.

A petite, delicate-looking young girl ran through the mist of the grave drizzle. She looked exhausted and slightly pitiable, with one arm hugging plummeting groceries of all sorts, and the other with gauzy red umbrella, matching her eyes. Trailing behind her were small drops the grocery bag trickled... and she realized they were dropping. But in such rain, she cared nothing but a warm blanket and a cup of tea.

She pouted at the sky. Why does it have to rain, especially when I'm bringing a bag of groceries! And most importantly, why rain when it's spring!

No answer, of course. The sky only replied with heavier water droplets, which caused even more pouts. She stuck her tongue at the sky, and awaited no reply. Her feet kept on running.

And nothing good happens in the rain... right?

She sniffed. It was so cold, her nose was getting red. Even though an umbrella was protecting her, it was still cold as hell.

And this drizzle... it was not a drizzle anymore. On the tip of her short skirt, she can feel a strong wind blowing the ends to the top of her waist, exposing an interesting view for adolescent males to see. Thank God it's raining, she expressed gratitude for the first time that afternoon. The heavy rain had blurred particularly everyone's view that nobody was gawking at her purple threadbare underwear, and that was about the best thing a rainstorm could ever be... at least to thirteen-year-old Tifa Lockhart.

Then suddenly, she wished the rain would not blur her vision. She felt somehow she had lost track to her bar. She also did not realize there was--

CRASH!

--a young boy running toward her way.

Rubbing her bottom slowly as she waited the ache to go away, Tifa had unconsciously let the rain showered on her head, as it was kept dry until the huge bump. Instinctively, she ran her arms to every point she was able to reach, gathering her sowed victuals and more importantly, her umbrella. She tried getting up to her feet, but the pebbly walkway was so slippery, she would fall again once she got her balance.

She also wished she could see who she was bumping to. Because if it was a noble or some sort, she would thoughtlessly run away without bothering to take her valuables and what so ever.

An apology, of course, was still worth it.

"I-I'm," Tifa stuttered nervously, hoping it was nobody hostile, "I'm so sorry..."

The rain had really clouded her. She could not see who was rubbing his head before her, although she very well knew it was of the male gender. A faint outline moved, Tifa can easily tell this person was at least a few inches above her, and hearing to his aches, his voice was at a stage where young teenage boys had cracked voices. However, he did had an interesting shape of head people were bound to gawk at. Barbed and... spiky?

There's only one person in the world...

She smiled pathetically to herself, it could not be who she thought it was.

Still, Tifa blew a sigh of relief. She was glad she did not bump someone who was hard to talk to, or at least, hard to apologize to. Maybe this person might not be much of a talker, but having to see evidences that proved he was around her age, she was more than glad.

But what was it that made her think it was someone she knew? Clearly enough, it was not the hair that resembled the shape of a chocobo's head. (Although secretly, she had to think why there would be anyone else with such hair other than this person she knew.)

"Tifa?"

She almost jumped.

This voice sounded strangely familiar... although it sounded a little different... but really, who was it?

"Tifa?" the boy said again, louder.

There was something in his tone that sounded longing and... sad. What was it?

"Tifa?" the boy called again, now in a volume as if he was closer to her.

She lifted her chin, and looked at him. He was bending his head to her, in a manner as if he wanted to look at her. So she leaned closer to him... and what previously looked like a faint outline of a chocobo's head... now merged into a certain face that she had known, longed, missed, and expected in the longest time.

Her eyes were blurred. But this time, it was not because of the rain.

"Cloud!"

"Yup," he broke the little flashback, "it was raining alright."

Tifa did not flinch.

"Tifa, I don't really understand about your way of thinking... that rainy days are bad luck." Cloud blinkered, "But you know very well that we reunited in a rainy day."

Still no reply.

"I know it doesn't usually rain in springs when it's still early spring," Cloud placed a hand on his chin, being mindlessly thoughtful, "but you know, it could be a sign."

"Sign?" Tifa recoiled incredulously, "What sign?"

"A sign that's telling you should believe in rainy days." Cloud countered pensively, in a way Tifa never thought he would, "You said you were never happier when you met me, and it was in a rainy day."

Tifa stopped to look at him. Eyes began to drift indecisively to every direction. She hated to not consider Cloud, but she did not want to betray her selfish statement she had believed in for so many years now. Rainy days are hateful and there were enough evidence to show... but was it? She met Cloud Strife for the first time in two years in a rainy day, where she bumped him and ogled at his chocobo-shaped head.

And did she suffer? No. She was saved. Her life was spared by the discovering of his existence. She thought she was all alone, but someone whom she loved and held most dear from the past came to her. That was not a curse, that was a blessing--

Perhaps, it was a curse too good, it became a blessing.

But wait a moment. What was this? A new street on memory lane opened... and there was Barret and Cid and, and...

I was wrong. How could I be so stupid?

"Cloud," Tifa's voice was soft and melodious, she could had been a singer. It had been a while since he heard Tifa voiced in such tone, especially after several years. "did you know? When I first met Barret and Cid and the others... it was in a rainy day?"

Cloud stared at her for a moment. Her eyes were glittering. She was happy. "Glad to know you finally realize, Tifa."

The femme fatale smiled appreciatively.

Four years ago, Tifa Lockhart was a young thirteen-year-old girl raised in Nibel, who had lost everything she had in the war. She was small, fragile, and most of all, powerless. She had lost hope on living, yet still insisted on going on. On a showery day, she claimed to herself that rainy days were detestable and vile--it was warning of an upcoming danger.

Now seventeen years of age, Tifa had learned a valuable lesson. Rainy days may had eaten away the long-lost loved ones she had in her past. But at the same time, those rainy days were also blessings. In the rain, she reunited with the one person she thought she lost, and met new faces that would be the new loves of her life, and those she that she must protect.

The rain stopped sprinkling, and a warm light shone through her window. It was celebrating her victory. Tifa smiled. She was thankful she had gone through the good fight between her and herself. It made her stronger.

Facing her transparent reflection on the window, she whispered, just so Cloud would not hear her.

"Goodbye," she said to her old self.

-fin-

.

a/n
I managed to finish this fast, to make up for the one-month waiting back on December. And it's pretty long... to my dismay. But I'm pretty satisfied. I always wanted an omake, so here it is!

Anyway, I know this is a Cleris fic, but here's a little gift for my Cloti fans... (avoids flying saucers) You realized it's nothing but friends' talk. Typical childhood reminiscing. You see, Cloud and Tifa are childhood friends, yet they almost never interacted in this story, so I wanted to make this omake, where Cloud and Tifa talk about their past and grief... and 'rainy days'. I imagine them having a talk like this in the game too, although yes, the one's who having "the fight against thee self" over here isn't Cloud, but Tifa. And I hope I didn't go too hard on her... about her hating the rain.

The other reason why I wanted this omake is 'cause I don't really like doing scenes where Cloud tells his story to people. So instead of that, I want to make a separated story where Cloud talks about it with a friend (and Tifa is the best candidate, it's unavoidable) and do little flashbacks... the kind of stuff. I might be doing more of this too, like a flashback story about the war or maybe Vincent's story... (I doubt he wants to share it to people so omakes are the best way to tell 'em all.)

BTW, I'd also like to take my time to describe the weather cycle here. Yes, yes, I'm following the Australian cycle, where it's summer in January and winter in June. Actually, I wanted to follow the American cycle, like most countries, but it wasn't snowing in the first chapter (it started on Aeris' birthday, so it should be February).

And one last thing, flames will be contributed for my little BBQ party. Wahoo--

Clorith, I am so glad to have ya back! (hughughug) I thought you were dead! xD Well, anyway, thanks for the compliment. I don't know how to say it, but thanks for making this a good bedtime story! (hugz again)