The hectic and broken flow of the workload at Seventh Heaven did nothing but further add to Tifa's anxieties the day that Cloud left. Between a multitude of drunken customers blathering about their wives and the three different bouts that erupted, Tifa felt like she was stuck smack down in the middle of a zoological menagerie. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered her much. After all, who comes to a bar to practice teetotalism? But with everything going on with the man she loved, the day became almost unbearable.

By day's end, Tifa closed up, and washed all the glasses and dishes silently in the bar sink. Even with two young children upstairs, the place felt awful lonely without Cloud. Standing over the sink, Tifa focused on the sound of the clinking glasses instead of her heavyheartedness. If only she had approached Cloud pragmatically instead of with her emotions, maybe he wouldn't have closed himself off to her. Maybe if he just knew how she felt. But Tifa ultimately decided that it wouldn't have made a difference whether or not he was aware of her... fondness for him. His feelings would be the same either way, whatever those were, and he still would have left without saying where to.

As Tifa finished her cleaning chores, she filled her lungs with air and exhaled. Looking out a small window, she could tell that it was fairly late. Cloud hadn't come back. Then it was sure; he wasn't to return for several days. Shaking her head in dismay, Tifa realized that although she had anticipated this disappointment, she still never loosened her grip on the faint hope that perhaps Cloud was only on a day-long excursion. Hell, she would still probably have an uneasy sleep that night, wondering to herself whether or not she should've left the door unlocked for Cloud. Hope just let all of life's letdowns feel more bitter. Extra salt on the wound. Tifa knew that as long as her mind was unoccupied, she would continuously have hopes about Cloud's return. And those hopes would only be the spiteful outsider that would laugh at her when her wishes weren't fulfilled. She had to keep herself busy.

Tossing the dishtowel in her grip onto the counter, she took a moment to observe her conical fingertips, pruned by the prolonged submersion in water.

Tifa walked up the stairs, and paused in front of Marlene and Denzel's closed bedroom door. They were probably asleep already. But she felt bad for having not tucked them in. So as to not wake them but still kiss their small foreheads goodnight, she slipped her feet free of her black boots. While making as little noise as she could, Tifa turned the smooth knob, and pushed the door gently forwards. She tiptoed into the room to find that Marlene and Denzel were indeed asleep. The room was silent except for their soft, rhythmic breathing and a few distance voices from outside. She crept up to Denzel's bedside, and planted a nearly impalpable kiss on his forehead. After running her hands gently through his unkempt sandy-brown hair, she approached Marlene. She kissed her forehead, and pulled the covers up to Marlene's neck. As she walked towards the door to leave, a soft stirring interrupted her steps. A child's gentle groan of waking.

"Tifa?" Marlene's voice called out in a whisper through the darkened room.

"Yeah, it's me," Tifa responded, creeping over to Marlene's bedside, and kneeling there next to her. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Is Cloud home?" Marlene's tired voice asked. The reminder of worries about Cloud pulled Tifa's head down for a moment. Perhaps there was no avoiding thinking about him and having hopes.

"No," Tifa said. Marlene let out a soft whimper. She turned over away from Tifa, and adjusted herself comfortably under the blankets.

"I wonder if he saw Sister again," Marlene murmured more to herself than purposefully out loud. Tifa's attention suddenly shot forward. Sister? ...Aerith? What did Cloud being gone have anything to do with Aerith? Did Marlene know something that she didn't?

"What do you mean, Marlene?" she whispered.

"Before he left last time, he said that he remembered Sister in a dream. I think that's why he left." Tifa rose to her feet. So did Cloud leave because of Aerith? But then why wouldn't he have just told her about it? She had loved Aerith as well, and she had been deeply grieved by her death too. But then why hadn't Cloud shared his pain over Aerith with her? They had been living together for all these years. He must've trusted her by now. Of course he did. And yet... he had failed to mention this detail to her at all.

Lost in painful thoughts, she left the room for Marlene to fall back asleep. After readying herself for bed, she crawled under the covers, and attempted to merge into sleep with little avail.

Cloud knew how much Tifa was affected by Aerith's death. He saw her run off in tears that day. He knew just as well as everybody that Tifa had loved Aerith like a sister. How could she not? Aerith was a wonderful person. She had coddled all of Tifa's fears and matured them into hopes whenever she had most needed a trustworthy sister. Everyone had loved Aerith. It wasn't like Cloud was alone in his grief. If that's what was making him leave for long periods of time, why did he have to face his pain alone? Why couldn't they talk about it and confront it together? All this time, Cloud had expressed what he was thinking to her much more frequently than he had in the past. Yet he never mentioned Aerith. Maybe he thought about her, but he never mentioned her. If Marlene was right, and he was leaving because of her, why hadn't he ever said anything?

From the safety of her bed, Tifa glanced out the window up at a gibbous moon. She hoped that where ever Cloud might be, that moon was watching over her him. She hoped that whatever pain Cloud might have would leave his closed heart alleviated. She hoped that Cloud's wishes were never left unfulfilled. He didn't deserve to be filled with so much grief and no one to talk to about it. Hope might leave Tifa empty-handed, but if her tiny hopes had the chance of being what made the difference in Cloud's happiness, the plausible pain would be worth it.

..-+-..

As noon approached, Cloud stirred from his light sleep in Aerith's church. His leg still lolled over the side of the pew. He flailed his arms into the air as he sat up and yawned. His eyes, weary with fatigue, met the pool of Lifestream water across from him. Even after these many months, yellow and white petals still floated across the surface as a memorial to the flowerbed that once lay there. That day he first met Aerith, it didn't make much sense that colorful, healthy flowers could bloom in Midgar as if they were completely ignorant to the environment in which they were raised. But he understood now. Aerith had called the Lifestream forth from deep in the planet to stir underneath the flowerbed. That's why the flowers could grow. Her gifts as a Cetra only made her the more appealing, and now only the more longed for.

Cloud recalled the evening spent at Cosmo Canyon. The night that he learned about Lifestream and heard what Aerith could hear congenitally: the Planet...

Cloud stood before Cosmo Candle. The others were all huddled comfortably around the flickering fire as sparks ascended into heaven and the sky turned purple from a cranberry setting sun that was on the verge of disappearing beyond the horizon completely. Aerith sat there with her lean legs folded beneath her, staring contemplatively into the bonfire. It wasn't like her to be completely serious, and it made Cloud a little nervous. Even the girl who was lively in every situation was coerced into solemnity by the gravity of the threat weighing upon the planet. Not only Shinra but Sephiroth.

He approached her slowly but found that her gaze didn't deviate from the flame. For a moment, Cloud thought that maybe she just wanted to be left alone before he decided to confront her anyway. He sat on the hard ground next to her, his knees stretched out but slightly bent, and turned to face her. Finding himself at a loss of words, he flushed a bit. But then, Aerith spoke as if she could sense his genuine concern for her and decided that his intentions, sweetly out of character, were worth rewarding.

"I learned a lot. The elders taught me many things. About the Cetra... and the Promised Land," Aerith said as she continued to examine the Cosmo Candle like there was a secret hidden there she was trying to find. Cloud looked down a bit. He wanted to help her through this. She was always able to nurse everyone out of their doubts and fears with such grace and ease. He wanted to be able to do that for her, but he just didn't know how to comfort her.

"I'm... alone... I'm all alone now," she whispered. Cloud was almost thrown aback by the complete lack of faith in her voice. Her spunky cheer wasn't there anymore, and the void had been filled with despair. It must've been really haunting her if she couldn't even maintain that hope she sported in every dark situation. Cloud, as if affected by her pain, was despaired himself to hear her speak in such a way.

"But I'm..." Cloud trailed off. 'I'm?' That wasn't even what he had meant to say, but that's what came out. Sure, he did care a lot about Aerith, but didn't they all? It's not as though he, in particular, cared more for her than the others did... or at least that's what he thought. "...we're here for you, right?"

"I know. I know, but... I am the only... Cetra," she replied. Much to Cloud's relief, she had seemingly disregarded that little slip of the tongue of his. But that wasn't even what was important. Aerith was lonely. Couldn't she see that he was there for her no matter what? Couldn't she see that he was her bodyguard, and that he would follow her through the worst to protect her? He could take care of her... No, they all could take care of her.

"Does that mean we can't help?" Aerith looked up at him for a moment. Her emerald eyes were lush with sorrow. He stared back at her, trying to comfort her with his gaze the way she was always able to. But she only looked away. She brought her knees to her chest, and hid her face in her dress.

Cloud stood up, angered with himself for not being able to help her at all and apparently making her feel even worse.

That had been the first and only time Cloud saw Aerith as truly crestfallen. He had felt awful about the entire thing. He could protect her from the Turks, and he could rescue her from Shinra Headquarters, but he couldn't support her? She always did so much for him, and he couldn't do so little as cheer her up. That wasn't the first time he felt as though he had failed her, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. But Cloud quickly shook the latter thought from his mind.

Aerith, a flower girl whose nature was to make everyone around her feel precious and hopeful, could feel lonely herself. That was the night that Cloud decided that protecting Aerith was not going to be enough. He had to show her that she was never alone because he was always there for her. Aerith didn't deserve to feel a lack of faith, unhappiness, and, least of all, loneliness. Cloud wanted her to feel all the happiness in the world. It was probably the only memory he had of her in which she was just glum. Even so, it was necessary to never forget any single thing Aerith did. He never wanted time to erode her into nothing but broken remnants of the past. She was a part of him, yes, but they were linked by his memories, weren't they?

Cloud cherished his memories of Aerith; every gesture, every endearing smile, every playful word that danced off her lips. Had his memories of her been a physical manifestation, he would've guarded them to the fullest penalty of his strength. But they were almost a knurl in his heart; a source of bittersweet nostalgia that, if he focused on them long enough, would end up losing the sweetness. It could always make him smile to think of their adventure the day they first met, to think of that awestruck look on her face the day she briefly saw an airship, or to think of those magical minutes on the gondola ride. But he couldn't help but later reflect on those memories and realize that they were all only memories. No matter how much of a part of him Aerith was, their future together was cut short, and newly created memories of her would no longer forge themselves.

He wished he could be with her just once more. He wished he could feel her head against his shoulder. He wished he could hear her laugh at him the way she used to. But most of all... he just wished he knew that she loved him. If he could feel her physical presence, it would be enough to let him know that she still did. He needed to know that everything he felt, she being a part of him and she always being with him, wouldn't go away because she loved him. He needed the security of really knowing that.

And so Cloud decided. He wasn't going to spend his break from the world just in Aerith's church, blissfully remembering the happy times because it always led him back to the same place. He had to know. Maybe if he just felt her love once more, he would know that it wasn't going to go away.

Among his inaudible whimpers as briny water gathered beneath his eyes, Cloud knew that he couldn't stand the ambiguity of not feeling Aerith's love for him after her death. And so he had to go to the field.