"I
will not be taken out so easily."
"I see."
He faced his
clone. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours, each holding
their huge-bladed swords. Cloud lay Tifa down on a clear area of
ground and walked up to Damien. They stood several feet apart from
each other, glaring for even longer than the first time. Damien
moved.
Cloud's eyes flashed and a yellow flare of power
encircled him. He drew his sword back and lunged at Damien, swinging
it with all of his force. The blade cut deep. He did this over and
over, more times than he could keep count of. All of a sudden, a huge
white beam of energy swallowed Damien and made blood fly. Cloud
doubled over, his chest plate denting severely and one shoulder guard
completely shattering to pieces. Blood poured from the fresh wounds
and he looked up at his clone, who had the same exact
injuries.
"That's...new..." Damien grunted, getting to his
feet again.
"Ultimate End...like it...?" Cloud gasped
shallowly, hoping he could outlast the stupid clone that seemed to
have no life limit.
"Didn't...quite work as
expected..."
"You're complaining...?"
"No...I still
have to kill you..."
"My thoughts exactly..."
They dove
for each other at the same time. The swords flew, striking loudly in
mid-leap. The synthesized Ultima Sword cracked loudly, then
shattered. The crystal fragments clattered to the dirt and Damien
fell back, shaking his head.
"This can't be happening!"
He
ran for Cloud again, drawing a fist back. He had regressed to
animalistic tactics. Cloud was a mercenary–he knew them all. When
Damien crouched Cloud planted his feet and swung his Ultimate
Sacrifice over his head, bringing it down onto Damien's open
shoulder. There was a sharp crack. Cloud felt his right arm go numb;
he couldn't control it anymore–so he forced it. Swinging the
sword around, he pushed Damien up and away, cutting him across the
bridge of his nose. The identical mark ensued. Cloud drew the mako
crystal blade behind him, waiting for the opening.
Damien wasted
no time giving it to him. Incredibly angered by this turn of events,
he lunged for the other boy blindly. Cloud rammed the sword up high
and there was a sound: a sick, terrifying noise. They stayed in this
final position for seconds, minutes, hours...so it seemed. Then
Damien fell for the last time. His green eyes flashed, then dulled
and glassed over instantly. Mako blood poured from the gaping wound
in his chest, creating a pool in the dirt beneath him. The final
victor turned slowly, placing his sword on his back.
"It's
over," Cloud Strife said.
Tifa Lockheart slowly opened her
eyes. Her hair hung untidily in her face and she tried to brush it
back. She saw the jewelry on her arms and looked around. Cloud was
carrying her gently perched over one strong shoulder, his face tight
and drawn, his body trembling ceaselessly beneath the golden
armor.
"Cloud...?"
Speaking made her dizzy but she didn't
care. He looked over his shoulder at the sound of her voice.
"Tifa,
you're awake."
"Yeah," she said, sliding off his shoulder.
He stopped walking and held her with one arm. She touched his cheek
worriedly.
"I'm fine," he seemed to read her thoughts.
"But
you look like something's..."
"Nah. Let's just keep
going."
But when he walked he limped severely. Tifa stopped and
held him back by the arm.
"Cloud, what's–?"
He was
clenching his teeth. "It's nothing, I said."
This wasn't
from anger; Tifa automatically sensed that. She stood in front of him
and looked him over.
"Cloud!" she screamed.
He was
covered in cuts and bruises from his nose to his legs–his right
shoulder looked extremely bashed and swollen. His armor was
nonexistent from collarbone to abdomen: it was all one gaping, bloody
hole. The red liquid slid down his torso and stained his blue
uniform, leaving splotches on the ground, probably for miles–they
were far from the area where they had fought Damien.
"Did I
forget to mention I killed Damien?" Cloud asked with a sort of
half-smile.
"You WHAT!"
"Well...kill or be killed–take
your pick."
"But how...? How...!"
"Come on, Tifa.
You've got to have more faith in me than that."
He started to
walk. Something finally caught up with him because he abruptly
groaned and doubled over. Blood spilled everywhere. Tifa ran to his
side and put her arms around him.
"Stop, Cloud. Please?"
"We're
almost there..." he tried.
"NO! Cloud, you can't continue
like this! You have to let me–"
"Tifa..." he groaned. His
knees buckled and he collapsed. She let out a little scream and held
him up quickly. His eyes were closed–he was breathing heavily;
gulping in ragged gasps. Not knowing what else to do, she set him
down in the grass and looked at him worriedly.
"Cloud, I...I
don't know what to do–"
He put a finger to her lips and her
eyes widened, tears gathering at the corners.
"Sometimes...you
don't know when to give up..."
"Cloud," she tried again,
"your wounds are fatal, and if we don't do something..."
"I
have...welcomed death from the beginning..." he smiled, opening
his eyes. "To chase ones...such as Sephiroth and Damien...you have
to be ready to–"
"Stop it! I don't want to hear anymore
of that!" she cried.
"So, what if I told you...how beautiful
you are instead...?"
She shook her head: "I can't..."
"Live
without me?"
She blushed, but still retorted indignantly.
"You're full of it, you know that?"
He laughed; it was short
and ended in a moan of pain. "Well...that's how I felt...when
this was you..."
The tears began to coarse down her cheeks:
"You can't leave me now...!"
His chest hitched, and another
pained sound escaped him.
"Tifa..."
"I won't let you
die! I won't!"
"Listen to me...please..."
"No..."
she continued shaking her head, but bit her lip.
Cloud let his
hand roam over her face and slide into her hair. He brushed a few of
the strands off her shoulder, trailing his fingers down her arm and
finally grasping her hand weakly in his own.
"I want you...to do
me a favor..." he pulled her hand slowly to his chest and lay it
above the damageatop his heart.
"What is it?" she
whispered.
"Tifa...give me a little taste of heaven...before I
go to hell..."
She whimpered, a sob ripping from her throat.
Cloud grabbed her chin gently in the other hand, wincing again as he
did so; his broken arm was not liking this treatment. He turned her
face back to his and stared into her eyes adorned with tears. He
smiled. Tifa shook her head and touched the hand on her face. Slowly
she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain and blocking out the
brightening dawn light. She saw his blue mako eyes–the mark of a
SOLDIER–glowing up at her. No matter what anyone said, she would
always see love in those eyes.
She kissed him. His tongue darted
past her lips and licked along the curve of her mouth, making her
heart race. She could taste him–sweet and gentle as they parted and
met again. She slid her tongue over his, feeling him let out a weak
moan. Slowly, very slowly, they pulled away just so their noses still
brushed. He let his head fall back, a smile on his lips, his eyes
still closed. Tifa sobbed again, shaking her head.
"Cloud...?
Cloud, no!"
His chest hitched again. He drew in one last, shaky
breath and opened his eyes just enough so she could look into them
again.
"I love you."
He spoke clearly, not a trace of pain
hanging in his words. Then his head tilted to one side and there was
nothing.
He was dead.
Tifa let her own head fall to the
hand which still held hers. Even when she closed her eyes the tears
continued to pour down her cheeks; she still continued to see his
blank stare. She stayed like this for a long while.
'So,' she
thought to herself. 'This is what Cait Sith's fortune meant.'
Her eyes slowly opened and rose to the horizon, which was no longer a
hazy gray but a brilliant orange. Pink clouds hung near the earth:
'Death cannot stop true love, only delay it for a time.'
"I
love you, Cloud Strife," Tifa Lockheart whispered.
