Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII.
Note: I'm glad people are enjoying this fanfiction. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep up the good work in this story. Usually I get lazy and don't put in so many details but this time I'll try a little harder to be more detailed.
Second Note: If you add this story to your favorites list I'd really appreciate it if you actually review the story. Otherwise I won't know what you think about the story.
Third Note: If the layout of Tifa's bar is a little off in this chapter, I'm sorry. I haven't seen Advent Children, so the only Seventh Heaven layout I know is the one you see in the game. Correct me if something about the layout is wrong and bothers you.
Fourth Note: If text is in italics like this, it's a character's train of thought.
Chapter 2: Ropes
Tifa watched helplessly as Sephiroth cut off all of the woman's methods of communicating with other people, her wine red eyes displaying her despair though the rest of her face remained surprisingly calm.
The ex-general started with the telephone in the living room. He took the cord that attached the phone to the wall out of its outlet, grabbed the cord and slammed it into the ground violently, like it was a mace. The phone shattered, making a crashing sound as it hit the ground. The cord snapped off of the phone's body.
Sephiroth then stood straight, his eyes boring into the frightened young woman.
"…I'll require that to be cleaned up later," he breathed, exiting the living room to stand in front of her in the main room of the bar. "And I know that the task will not be a problem with you. In fact, why don't you go ahead and get started?"
No. I'll never do anything for you, Sephiroth. I hate you! This is what Tifa wanted to say. However, fear caused her to squeak a feeble "yes" at his demand and she hastily headed towards the hall closet to find something she could use to clean up the mess.
Sephiroth's cold gaze swept around the room and he approached the counter, the slight limp that earlier afflicting his leg still annoyingly lingering. Seeing no other telephones, he made his way over to the front door, hastily switched the "open" sign to "closed" and locked the door with the chain lock. He assumed that Tifa was trusting enough with her friends that she gave at least one of them a key to enter her bar…He didn't want them to get in.
Judging by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, Sephiroth guessed that Tifa had returned from the closet. He could see her enter the living room with some stuff under one arm from the corner of his eye.
Tifa knelt beside the mess, setting a medium-sized cardboard box next to her. She heard muffled, slightly unsteady footsteps behind her, drawing close. She tried her best to ignore them—she didn't want to talk to Sephiroth. She opened the cardboard box and pulled out a small broom and a dustpan to clean up her now shattered phone.
I liked that phone, too, she thought bitterly, moving to sweep up the broken remnants of the phone. But I suppose it's better that the phone goes, rather than me…Either way, I don't want to be in this situation! Sephiroth's going to kill me eventually. I just know it…
Tifa looked in the box before dumping the first few phone chunks inside of it. "Huh?" she mumbled to herself, setting down the broom to pull out a coil of rope from the box. Not remembering where she got the rope, she set it aside.
"…Why do you have a coil of rope, Lockheart?" a cold, low voice asked from right behind Tifa, making her jump.
"I-I don't know. It might come in handy I guess…"
"Have you ever actually used it?" Sephiroth asked. He was close. Tifa could feel the toe of his boot touching the bottom of her foot.
"Not that I can remember," the dark-haired woman replied honestly.
"…Give me the rope."
"Why?" The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
"Don't question me. Just give me the rope, or I will get it myself and tie it around your neck. I do not think you would find hanging from the ceiling by your neck a very enjoyable experience, Miss Lockheart. Personally, though, I would not mind giving you that experience…" the ex-general breathed icily.
Tifa hesitated a moment, then bit her lip and grabbed the coil. Wait. What if he hangs me when I give him the rope? The thought panicked her, but the feel of the tip of the Masamune pressing against the back of her neck brought Tifa back to her senses. She handed him the coil of rope.
"That's a good girl," Sephiroth said mockingly, bending over to take the rope from her. When he did that, Tifa felt the ends of his long hair lightly brush against the top of her head. She held her breath, gritting her teeth until the man was standing fully straight again.
Sephiroth moved towards the doorway, then stood there. "…When you are done cleaning up the mess your phone made, you will show me where I will be sleeping…and it will be in a bedroom."
Tifa made no reply as she finished cleaning, shoving the box next to the couch after dropping her cleaning tools in after the shards of plastic and phone parts. "Follow me," she muttered gloomily.
The silver-haired man moved out of the doorway and followed Tifa up the stairs, their footsteps echoing out of unison as they ascended. The hallway in the second floor was dimly lit. In the middle of the hall, Tifa pushed open a dark wooden door, entered the room and flipped on the light switch.
"This is the guest bedroom," she announced sourly. "You'll be sleeping in here. The bathroom is at the end of the hall…"
Sephiroth nodded. "Now I wish to see your bedroom."
"Why?" Tifa demanded. Her bedroom was her own personal space—there was no way she wanted to let this man see her bedroom!
"I would like to know where my servant resides at night. I would like to know exactly where you are at all times, as to be absolutely sure you will not try to escape," Sephiroth explained impatiently, giving the woman a long, cold stare.
"…It's the door right across from this room," Tifa mumbled, yawning slightly as she exited Sephiroth's new room to enter her own room. I wonder how late it's getting? she thought.
Sephiroth nodded, standing in the doorway of Tifa's room. After a moment he set the coil of rope on her bedside table, which was, without the rope, empty except for a small lamp. "It is getting rather late, Lockheart. You should get some rest. Stay in your room; I will be right back."
The man shut the door behind him when he left, leaving Tifa all alone in the one place she thought she'd always feel safe. As much as she hated being afraid of anything, she was—but who could blame her? Her life was in the hands of the person who had burned down her hometown, killed her father, manipulated her childhood friend, killed one of her best friends, threatened to destroy the Planet…And then came back to try all over again.
Tifa sighed and climbed onto her bed, leaning her head back against the headboard as she pulled her legs up to rest her chin on her knees. The jeans she had been wearing that day were slightly worn out and felt a bit rough to the skin on her chin but she didn't care. She'd rather have an uncomfortable chin rest than be in immense pain.
Several minutes later, the woman heard footsteps getting steadily louder until her door creaked open. She wasn't that afraid…until she saw that Sephiroth had brought one of the sharpest knives from her kitchen with him.
He read Tifa's terrified expression with an amused look on his face. "…I would not use a knife to kill you, Lockheart. It's to cut the rope."
"…Okay…" Tifa breathed shakily, her wine-red eyes still wide.
Sephiroth grabbed the rope from Tifa's bedside table, then cut two relatively long strands of rope from the coil. "Now lay back," he commanded calmly.
WHAT? "Eh, I, ah…" was all Tifa could say.
Sephiroth may not have been an innocent man, but the word "rape" and its meaning had never really been explained to him. Therefore, he didn't know what the woman was panicking about.
"Just lay back and give me your wrist. I need the right one, first," he demanded again, giving Tifa a withering glare.
She closed her eyes, feeling sick, and did as she was told, lying back until her head rested on her pillow, extending her right arm. She felt her wrist being pressed against the cold, dark wood of a bedpost, then felt rope harshly rub against her skin as Sephiroth secured her wrist to her bedpost with a very, very tight knot. It repeated with her left wrist.
Once Sephiroth was done tying Tifa down, he made his way towards the door and turned around to look at her. "…I do not want you attempting to escape at night. I do not want you looking for your weapon, either. I like knowing exactly where you are at all times. Goodnight."
Then he turned out the light and shut the door behind him as he left, leaving Tifa all alone.
Yumesuta: Sorry if this chapter was sort of awkward; I wrote it when I was half-awake. I don't really know how to describe someone being tied down very well either. Eventually I'll go through and make improvements after I get the third chapter up. Anyway, please review!