EDIT: Typos. I swear they multiply the moment I hit "Submit"...
Happy Friday! I hope that everyone has had a great week :)
First of all, huge thank you to everyone who voted on Tifa's dress! I'm amazed at how successful the voting was (really, thank you all so much!), so we'll definitely be doing another one for another dress scene that will be coming up. ;) Stay tuned!
And as always: Enjoy the chapter :)
It was a rare day when there was movement within the Turk meeting room. Rarer still when the lights were actually on, the scent of coffee and tea lingered in the air, and all of the chairs – well, most of the chairs, anyway – were occupied. But today was a rare sort of day. Tseng had called an all-team meeting after all, and the tension in the air was palpable. Rude was brooding, Elena had her hands balled on her lap and expression pinched in a scowl, and Tseng – cool, unmovable, always-calm Tseng – was impatiently tapping his finger against the table as they waited for their final member.
Yet despite the tension, Cissnei sat comfortably in her chair. Her legs were delicately crossed and her expression was schooled into utter indifference, as she had been trained to do. Inwardly, however, she was spiraling. Tseng hadn't announced why he had called an all-team meeting; he had just made a vague statement regarding promptness and the meeting's location. It had unnerved her, and she was rarely unnerved.
She did have a few suspicions as to the meetings purpose however, and her copper eyes flicked to Tseng as she thought, I wonder if it has to do with Zack and Cloud. Tseng continued to tap his finger against the table, not noticing – or perhaps indifferent – to her quick glance. Tseng has been acting strangely ever since we picked them up…
Without warning, the door was suddenly flung open. All heads turned just in time to see Reno stumble into the room, his hair uncombed and shirt rumpled, as if he had just pulled it off the floor. "Sorry, sorry!" he stammered as he frantically buttoned his shirt. "I, ah, overslept."
And just like that, the room's tension burst.
Rude, seated to Elena's left, pinched the bridge of his nose with a harsh sigh. "Reno..."
"Listen, I was on the upper plate trying to find Fair last night, yeah?" Reno pushed himself into an open chair, still fighting with the last button. "But of course, there were these infantrymen stumbling around without orders, and since I outranked them and all of that, they wanted me to order them around. And like, I tried to explain that I was sorta busy at the moment, but you know how they are!" Having fixed his shirt, he immediately began trying to tie his scarlet hair into a thin ponytail, scowling all the while. "I swear, they all share the same brain cell, and not a very bright one at that."
"Reno..." Tseng, seated at the head of the table, looked immeasurably disappointed. "I was on the upper plate last night. But I did not see you."
Reno blinked, uncomprehending, before he blanched.
"And if you're going to be late to a meeting," Tseng smoothly continued, "please do think of a more creative excuse."
"Oh yeah, well..." Reno had the decency to at look look embarrassed, if the faint blush staining his cheekbones was any indication. "I..."
"Reno," Elena hissed. She was a new hire on the team, and looked as professional as ever; blond hair neatly straightened, blouse impossibly smooth, her pencil skirt a perfect fit. "You were at Wall Market, weren't you?"
Even Cissnei, with all of her Turk training, found it difficult to control her expression at the accusation.
Reno's lip twitched in a smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Elena's jaw dropped as she tried, and failed, to come up with a clever answer. "Y – Y – You know what, I don't want to know." Her cheeks flushed with color, a striking contrast to her naturally pale complexion. "In fact, I don't care where you go in your free time."
"I'm sure you don't, sweetheart," Reno purred.
Elena's blush deepened into a more brilliant shade of red as she shot upright, chair rattling behind her, her perfectly ironed pencil skirt creasing at the seams. "Don't you dare call me -"
"Reno," Tseng interrupted. His cool voice drifted over the meeting room, and Elena stilled immediately. "I would appreciate it if you would not tease my new hire. You are her senior, and I expect you to act as such."
Reno folded his hands behind his head, which earned him an exasperated look from Rude. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..."
"And with that matter firmly behind us," Tseng continued, shooting Elena a stern look before she meekly sat back down, "let us move on to the task at hand."
Ah, here it is. Cissnei unconsciously sat a little straighter in her chair, the question nearly bursting out of her. "Does it have anything to do with Zack and Cloud, sir?"
Tseng's dark gaze met her on, and then he faintly nodded; nodded causally, almost elegantly, as if his words weren't a knife straight into her heart. "It does," he affirmed, and then reached down to pull his briefcase onto the table. The briefcase was leather, simple and yet very well made, and within it were two blown-up images. Tseng pushed them both to the center of the table, continuing, "Fair and Strife were not on the upper plates last night – a fact I confirmed in the early hours this morning – and must therefore be on the lower sectors."
"You believe Fair and Strife reunited?" Rude asked, frowning at one of the images.
"That is our assumption."
Reno squinted over Rude's shoulder to see the picture. "Think they left Midgar?" he asked. "I mean, Fair only showed up to get Strifey-boy some medical attention, right? Kid needed it," he added he passed the screenshot to Elena, who immediately began scan the image with surgical scrutiny. "Strife was messed up in more ways than one."
"Fair and Strife are still in Midgar," Tseng replied with absolute certainty. "They traveled ten months across two continents to reach Midgar, and we can safely assumed that they would not leave it so quickly. Not until they got what they came here for."
Which is Aerith, Cissnei's mind instantly supplied. Zack's relationship with Aerith was a very well-kept secret amongst Shinra, and due to the events during and following the Nibelheim incident, now only she and Tseng were aware of it. However, Tseng preferred to turn a blind eye to their... unconventional affair. He liked to think that it didn't exist.
But Cissnei did not have that luxury - no, it went far deeper than that. She did not want the luxury. She'd rather see things how they were, no matter how painful, and had accepted Zack and Aerith's relationship a long time ago. In fact, she had accepted it the moment Zack had begged her not to take him and Cloud back to Shinra all of those months ago. His frantic request had struck something so deep within her, a softness that her Turk training had somehow overlooked, because his tiny hope had been so humble. Zack hadn't asked her for help. Hadn't asked for any supplies, or intelligence, or even medicine for Cloud. All he had wanted was for her to look the other way. Just for the night, just to let him and Cloud rest for a little while so that they could continue their journey at dawn. All because at the end of their long road was Aerith.
And he had asked it from her.
How could she have said no?
Cissnei cleared her throat, suddenly alarmed at how tight it felt – like she had swallowed barbed wire, a hard stone, a glass of water filled with ice. "So, to summarize," she managed to say, "we have determined that Fair and Strife are still in Midgar." To her credit, her voice sounded the same; soft, even, and unassuming. "But I don't understand. Why we're still pursuing them? Our mission was to find Zack and Cloud in the Midgar wastes before Shinra ambushed them, and failing that, we brought them both to our hospital and treated them both for injuries. But now that's over." Over, because Cloud had forcibly left and Zack had recovered stunningly quickly, even for a SOLDIER. "So why not just let them go?" she asked. "What is the purpose of keeping them?"
Tseng's lips curved into a smile – she must have asked a good question, then – and said, "Elena." He leaned forward, folded his hands beneath his chin. "Please pass both pictures to Cissnei."
Elena had snapped her head up at being address before dutifully handing the screenshots over, though she seemed rather unhappy about it. Cissnei paid her quiet sulking no mind as she flipped through both pictures, a frown decorating her lips.
The first picture was little more than a dark blur with two bright, sea-glass green orbs hovering in the center. The second had clearly been lifted out of a mako reactor security camera – Mako Reactor One, she guessed – and it depicted two people within it. One had a prosthetic gun-arm, the other was holding a rather large gunblade. Both were fighting a Scorpion Sentinel, and to their credit, appeared to be winning.
"So Avalanche is responsible for the reactor bombing," Cissnei surmised. No surprise there, and Tseng nodded his agreement. But even so… it didn't make any sense. Why would he hand these to her? She was on the Wutai mission, not the Avalanche one, and Avalanche certainly wasn't anything worth calling a team meeting about.
But then she looked at the pictures a little closer, starting with the darker, blurrier photo. Her eyes familiarized itself with the foggy edges, the glowing sea-glass orbs hovering in its center – eyes, she suddenly realized – and the ragged blur of a silhouette, before it occurred to her with with crystalline clarity:
That's Zack.
She quickly turned to the blond figure in the other photo, her heart leaping to her throat. Which most likely means…This is Cloud? Her eyes widened a fraction, the only indication of her mounting surprise. But he's… He was holding a gunsword, his body arched in a desperate dodge, his teeth bared in a grimace. He looks awake, she realized. Fully awake. She slid the images back to Tseng, forcing her expression to return to neutral. Thank the gods.
Tseng placed the photos back into his briefcase. "It has been confirmed," he said, his voice crisp and tone smooth, "that Strife has joined Avalanche. And as I have informed Reno and Rude, and will now inform the rest of you, that places us in… let us say, a difficult situation."
Cissnei prided herself in being able to control the outward expression of her emotions, but even she couldn't stop her eyes from widening at Tseng's words. For him to call something difficult...
"And you know this for certain?" she asked, rewinding the conversation. "Cloud is clearly within Mako Reactor One, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he has joined the eco-terrorist group." She didn't add that she didn't believe that he had the mental capacity to join, fully awake or not. Not after what he had gone through.
"I understand, but it has been confirmed," Tseng stated. "That matter has long since past."
"And even if it hadn't been confirmed," Reno muttered, looking over the photograph again, "the footage is pretty damning."
"I'd say so," Elena added under her breath. "Why would anyone do anything so stupid?"
Cissnei shot Elena a long, disapproving look.
"But moving on," Tseng said, drawing the group's attention. His gaze rested on the photograph Reno was holding, his expression unreadable as he continued, "Upper management in Shinra has gotten a hold of the photographs, including Hojo. Apparently, he ordered several infantrymen to pull files out of his Nibelheim lab."
"Where Cloud and Zack were being held," Cissnei breathed. But why? Why would he want those files? Unless… Her heart stuttered in her chest. Unless he wants to continue his research?
Tseng met her gaze, saw the horror hidden behind her copper eyes, and curtly nodded. "That is correct," he said simply, "but he also went one step further. In addition to the files, he - with the board's approval - placed a three hundred thousand gil bounty on Strife's head, as well as the man with the prosthetic gun. Bounty hunters are on the move," Tseng continued, his gaze flicking across the room, "and the chances that Strife and the gun-armed man will be apprehended within the day is seventy percent. Within the week, that number jumps to ninety-five percent."
"Ifrit," Reno cursed.
Rude's gaze hardened behind his dark sunglasses. "Sir, are you certain that we do nothing about Strife?"
Cissnei immediately went cold. What? Her gaze jumped to Tseng, a question burning within them. Had he really ordered Rude to do nothing about Cloud's situation?
"With all due respect," Cissnei interrupted, "we have to help Cloud. He can't -"
"Cissnei." Tseng's voice cut through her like a knife. "You would be wise to not address the subject so casually. Also keep in mind," he added, "that we are the Turks, and we follow the orders we are given – regardless of any sort of emotional attachment."
It was clearly an admonishment; a gentle one, but no less effective. Cissnei balled her hands up on her lap, her expression lapsing back into neutrality. "Yes, sir," she said simply. "My apologies."
Elena looked immensely pleased by this.
"Apology accepted." Tseng turned back to Rude and answered, "And yes, Rude. I expect all of us -" the emphasis was not lost on Cissnei, "- to do nothing regarding Strife. On the contrary, Strife is to be a distraction."
Elena wrinkled her nose. "A distraction?"
"Yes, a distraction." Tseng tapped a finger against the desk. "Strife's survival cannot be connected to Fair in any way. This is because Hojo wants Strife back for further analysis -"
Analysis, Cissnei silently echoed, her horror twisting within her. What a dainty, sterile word.
"- and Heidegger is also interested in Strife's return," Tseng bluntly continued, "as well as the rest of Avalanche. Because the reactor bombing falls on his shoulders, having Avalanche neutralized will place him in a better position and in better favor with the President."
"He has been gunning for a promotion," Reno muttered under his breath. "Annoying boot-licker."
"And while Hojo and Heidegger's focus is on Strife," Tseng said, completely ignoring Reno, "we will find and protect Fair."
Elena scowled at that. "But why? Why do we need Sample Z?"
Cissnei felt the blood rush to her head. "We don't call him that here," she bit out before she could stop herself. Then, since she already verbally expressed her emotions and it was too late to take it back, decided to sharply continue, "He's not a sample any longer."
Elena shot her an icy look. "Is that so?"
Tseng lifted a hand, effectively pausing Cissnei and Elena's conversation. "It's a fair question," he said. "We will be sheltering Fair because we need him for another mission."
"Another mission?" Rude arched an eyebrow, the only outwardly expression of his surprise. "Besides having him sweep security cameras for Avalanche members?"
"Yeah well, he did a pretty shitty job of it," Reno muttered under his breath. "Quit early, too."
No one denied it. Even Tseng cracked a rare grin, only to immediately grow somber. "No, Za – Fair," he quickly amended, which earned a quick glance from Cissnei, "will be moved to a different mission. One that only a contractor, someone unaffiliated with the Turks and yet possesses high combat prowess, would be able to accomplish."
The room seemed to chill ten degrees. "And that is?" Cissnei dared to ask, when it became clear that no one else would.
Tseng met her gaze across the table, and his dark gaze was ice. "While Strife pulls the attention of Shinra's elite," he said slowly, "we will use Fair to assassinate the President."
For a long while after that, no one spoke.
"Is that why you asked Reno, Rude, and I to find Zack and Cloud before the infantry did?" Cissnei breathed, her small voice cutting through the quiet. Tseng's eyes narrowed at her informality, but she didn't care – not right now, not anymore. It was as close to rebellion as she had ever come. "You wanted to use them as puppets?"
Tseng watched her for a moment. "Puppets is a strong word," he said gingerly, "but, yes. That is correct."
For a moment, Cissnei couldn't breathe. Could hardly even think. Then:
By saving them in the wastes, she slowly realized, I damned them.
I damned them both.
"Cissnei." Tseng's voice was a contradiction; it was made of molten metal, and yet icy cold. Cold enough to further chill the room. "Can I count on you?"
It took a moment for his words to pierce her numb shock, but when they did…
"I'm a Turk." She kept her tone was bland, her expression utterly indifferent despite the anxiety pooled deep within her. There was only one answer to Tseng's question. "Of course you can."
It was the first time she had ever lied to Tseng.
And it wouldn't be the last.
When Cloud, Aerith, and Zack had returned from flower picking and looking at the waterfall, Elmyra had handed Cloud some new clothes – a simply gray hoodie and faded jeans – with the declaration that the old SOLDIER uniform he had been wearing the night before had been beyond saving. She didn't look upset at all by this; in fact, she looked rather pleased when she had thrown the uniform away.
Zack had as well, for that matter.
"It was an old model, Spikey, not to mention super gross," he had told Cloud when Cloud had called him out on it. "How about we find you something better? I'll even help you."
Inwardly, Cloud had the suspicion that Zack didn't want to help him buy new armor. That Zack would prefer it if Cloud never wore armor or even held another weapon again, because Zack still wouldn't tell him where his gunsword was. He had only said that he was still cleaning it and that he'd be cleaning it for a few days. But Cloud kept his suspicions firmly to himself, and a curt,"Fine," had been his only response.
Lunch had been, as promised, roasted pumpkin with an assortment of other vegetables from the garden; grilled leeks, steamed carrots, spiced beets with some sort of cheese crumbled on top. Zack had reminded Cloud to take the remainder of the potion, which had Cloud grimacing before and after he had forced the bitter liquid down, and afterwards Cloud had helped Elmyra clean up the dishes while Zack and Aerith had tidied the dining room.
"So," Elmyra asked, handing Cloud a plate to dry. "How are you feeling? Potion working okay?"
"Um… Yes." Cloud ran a soft towel along the plate. He had been feeling a little fuzzy earlier, but now the potion's warmth was spreading through his limbs, dissipating the fog he hadn't even realized had been building up. In fact, he felt almost... normal. Almost. "Thank you."
"Of course," Elmyra said. "I'm glad that you're feeling better." She had a no-nonsense way of speaking, and cleaned the plates with practiced efficiency. "Where are you from, Cloud?"
He thickly swallowed, setting the plate aside to take another. He didn't really want to talk about it, but she had been so nice to him, and had even given him her last potion… "Nibelheim," he replied after a lengthy pause. "It's -"
"Oh, I've heard of it." Elmyra handed him another plate, and water dripped off of its white ceramic and into the sink. "Small mountain town, correct?"
"Y – Yeah, actually." Small mountain town – how neatly she summarized the first fourteen years of his life. Rubbing a towel over the damp dish, he added, "It is..." It was, he almost said, but stopped himself at the last moment, "a nice place."
"I can imagine," Elmyra said simply. "Miss it?"
He shrugged at the soapy dish he was holding. "Not really."
It wasn't a lie. Not entirely, because he didn't miss Nibelheim the place. He missed the people… and with a start, he suddenly realized that he missed one in particular. Missed her until it was a physical ache within him, a grief so raw and untouched that with his next breath, he was swallowing back glass shards, choking the jagged fragments down, each so fragile and brittle and yet so gentle that, without his knowing, they had settled deep within him, layer on layer, a quiet rain, a -
… and suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, grounding him, jolting him out of whatever foggy terrain he had wandered down. Zack offered Cloud a small smile, who was busy trying to control his breathing again, before he turned to Elmyra and asked, "And where are you from, Elmyra?"
"Kalm."
"Oh, I know Kalm!" Zack's hand squeezed on Cloud's shoulder as he spoke, and the gentle touch helped pull his shattering pieces together. "There's a bar there called The Tipsy Miner, right?"
Elmyra's expression went stoney. "Yes." A pause, then: "Did you go there often?"
"Mom!" Aerith's indignant shout echoed from the living room.
"Just once actually, right after I was first accepted into SOLDIER," Zack explained before turning his grin to Cloud. "Don't ask me what happened afterwards, though."
"Why?" Cloud ran a towel along the cup he held. He was pleased when his voice didn't waver, because really, he was totally, perfectly fine. "Don't remember?"
"Not even a little bit," Zack laughed, which dragged a small smile out of Cloud. Elmyra harshly sighed beside him, as if that was exactly the answer she had been expecting, but her obvious disapproval went ignored as Zack added, "But that's okay, because even though I didn't remember what happened that, I made a lot of good memories afterwards and everything worked out in the end." He turned his attention to Cloud, and there was something meaningful in his expression. Something that ran deeper than just his cocky, carefree, devil-may-care grin. "Things always work out in the end," he told Cloud. "And usually for the better."
And all of a sudden, Cloud got the distinct sense that Zack wasn't talking about his night out anymore; that he was talking about him, and he tore his gaze away and busied himself with the drying off of the dishes, feeling strangely heavier than before.
Everything works out, his mind echoed. Usually for the better.
How tightly he clung to those words.
"Also, Spikey," Zack added, "I think that plate's dry now."
Cloud jolted. "Oh, um. Yeah." He set the dish aside, kicking himself over getting so distracted. He needed to focus. Zack had said so earlier – that there was nothing wrong with him. That missing five years of his life wasn't that bad because things could have been worse, so he just needed to… get over it, or something. "Sorry."
"Cloud." Zack was frowning at him again, the same worried frown from the morning. "Why are you apo-"
"There's no reason to apologize," Elmyra said suddenly. She wiped her hands with a towel and was now scooping the leftovers into small glass containers. "In fact," she added with a smile, "thank you for the help."
Cloud only nodded, unable to meet Zack's suddenly concerned gaze.
"Anyway, Mom." Aerith suddenly stepped into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her dress. "Do you need any other help? Because Cloud and I were planning on going to Sector Seven really fast. He has a friend over there that he wants to see," she added, winking at the very flushed Cloud, "so I'm not sure how long we'll take..."
"That's fine, but be back before sunset." Elmyra placed her hands on her hips, looking every bit like the stern mother she was. "You know I don't like you walking around after dark."
"Aw Mom, but I'll have a bodyguard with me!"
"Sunset, Aerith."
"But what if -"
Whatever else Aerith was saying was lost to Cloud, because he had moved closer to Zack's side and murmured, "Um, Zack… Can I ask you something?"
Zack, who had been grinning at Aerith and Elmyra's bickering, suddenly went very still at Cloud's question. "Of course," he said, a little too quickly. "Living room? Or bedroom?"
"Living room is fine."
Cloud noticed how Zack minutely relaxed at that, but not completely. His body was still taunt as he leaned against the living room's bland wall, right beside the stairwell, and asked, far too casually, "So, Cloud. What did you want to ask me?"
"Um..." Suddenly Cloud felt a little silly, and shifted his weight to his other foot, his fingers fidgeting with the long sleeves of his hoodie. "About what Aerith said earlier… it sounded like you aren't coming with us. To Sector Seven."
"Oh!" Zack suddenly barked a short laugh. "Oh! That's… That's what you were wondering." He ran a hand through his hair, grinning to himself. "Gods Spikey, you had me nervous there for a second."
Cloud blinked at Zack's admission. "Why?"
"Just… Well, never mind." Cloud's lips pitched into a scowl at the dismissal, but then Zack continued, "I won't come with you guys – I actually have to take care of something really fast first – but I'll meet you there."
Cloud wasn't entirely sure why, but the thought of being away from Zack was… startling. Jarring, even, and the anxiety bubbling within him heated until it was a low simmer, a constant bubbling that had his fingers digging into his hoodie's soft sleeves. "I'll come with you," he quickly offered. "Maybe I can help."
Zack's smile softened. "Spikey, I appreciate it. I really do, but it's on the upper plate and you… probably should be anywhere near the upper plate right now."
Because of what I did last night, Cloud thought glumly. He hid his hands in the sleeves, and the inner fabric's was soft and gently against his fingertips. "How long will you be gone?"
"Not long," Zack promised. "Maybe an hour or two at the most."
"Why?"
"I need pick up a few things I forgot at the Turk lodging they put me in." Zack's smile grew wistful, and his gaze slid to the hardwood floor without really seeing it. "I need to pick up Aerith's letters, and Angeal's sword. They mean a lot to me, and I… If I'm going to be with you and Aerith from here on out..." He lifted his gaze, a faint, sad smile curving his lips, and continued, "then I'd like to have them with me, you know? I can't just leave them there."
Oh. Cloud once again pulled at his sleeves, mindlessly. The way Zack had said you and Aerith... it made him feel like he belonged, just a little bit. "Yeah," he finally murmured. "That makes sense."
Zack's smile warmed. "Thanks, buddy."
"So... only an hour or two?"
"That's right."
"And then you'll meet us there?"
"Definitely." Zack suddenly laughed and leaned forward to ruffle Cloud's hair, who just let it happen. "Don't worry. I know a lot has happened, but you'll be with Aerith, who knows these streets better than anyone, and you'll see Tifa! Your girl!"
"Not my girl," Cloud mumbled.
"Deny it all you want, she's your girl," Zack grinned. And he grinned so effortlessly, so easily, that Cloud felt smaller beneath it. "And now you're going to see her soon! So, do me a solid and smile, Spikester. Things are looking up."
Cloud's brow pinched. "Spikester?"
"Well, yeah." Zack's lips pulled into a wild grin. "When you're acting grumpy, I'll call you Spikester."
"Ugh Zack, no."
"Zack yes." Zack laughed and moved forward to ruffle Cloud's hair again. "Spikester, Spikester, Spikester -"
"Would you quit that!" Cloud protested, swiping at Zack's outstretched hand. "Stop touching me!"
"Yeah, Zack," came Aerith's sudden, loud shout from the kitchen. "Stop touching Cloud!"
"Ifrit, Aerith," Zack loudly said in response, which was only emphasized by Elmyra's harsh groan. "Could you have worded that any worse?"
Aerith poked her head out of the kitchen, wickedly grinning at the challenge. "Want me to try?"
"No," the boys said simultaneously, which had Aerith cackling as she made her way to the front door.
"You two make this so easy!" she laughed at them as she slipped on a red leather jacket. "Just so easy!"
Zack scowled as he moved to her side. "You've gotten evil while I've been gone," he pointedly told her. "Did you know that?"
Aerith grinned at him, her green eyes dancing in the light peeking through the front door. "I don't know, Zack," she drawled. "I distinctly recall someone asking if they were in heaven when they woke up next to me."
"Again, wording," Zack huffed before turning to Cloud, who had gone red in the face again. "I crashed through her church's roof and landed on her flowers years ago," he quickly explained, shooting Aerith a look. "When I came too, she was kneeling next to me. Asking if I was okay. And it was perfectly, completely innocent."
"You don't need to convince me," Cloud told him, as he subtly tilted his chin towards the kitchen. "Convince her."
Elmyra looked on from the kitchen, her expression absolutely frigid.
Zack - the same Zack who was a first class SOLDIER, who could easily dispatch armies, who crossed two continents taking care of another, went pale. "I swear!" He raised his hands in surrender as Aerith giggled beside him. "I swear that I'm not doing anything... anything nefarious to your daughter!"
"Nefarious," Aerith told him in a stage whisper. "Big word."
Zack ran an impatient hand through his hair. "Can we go?" He then turned to Cloud, who had shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and was looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Can we go now?"
"Please," Cloud muttered, moving to follow the two of them out the door.
They had only made it a few steps down the stone path when footsteps echoed behind them. "And remember, Aerith," Elmyra called to their departing backs. "Sunset!"
"I'll remember," Aerith promised as she waved goodbye.
Their first stop was the Sector Five station, to drop off Zack. Cloud and Aerith dropped Zack off at the Sector Five train station. They had arrived just as the train had rolled in, and Zack had hurried on board with his Turk contractor ID in his hand – but not before suddenly, sharply exhaling, turning to Aerith, and saying, "You drive me crazy," and then pulling her in tight and kissing her.
And Aerith, after a brief, wide-eyed pause, had kissed him back – but it was a clumsy kiss, more like their lips bumping together because she was smiling too much and couldn't seem to stop long enough to kiss him properly. "Good," she had told him, then ordered, "Hurry back." Zack had promised he would, and then had told Cloud to watch after Aerith – much to Aerith's chagrin – and Cloud, who had been busy looking anywhere else, had nodded his agreement. Zack had grinned briefly in response, but then the train had whistled its departure and he had dashed onto the train just before the doors had closed.
Cloud and Aerith then continued to Sector Seven. They walked along a dusty road, one that was wide, well-traveled, and was far busier than what Cloud had been expecting. He pulled the hood low over his head as someone walked a little too close for comfort, suddenly paranoid. What if one of them worked for Shinra? What if they recognized him? Zack had mentioned that Shinra could be after him right now, and he was walking around in the open like an idiot. And if…
And if someone recognizes me, I'm…!
A sudden hand suddenly looped around his arm.
"Don't worry, Cloud." Aerith's voice was even and calm, so calm that Cloud felt himself relaxing – if only slightly. "We're almost there."
Cloud slowly exhaled, though he didn't remove his hood. "Okay."
"Oh! And I almost forgot." Aerith suddenly reached into one of the deep pockets of her dress, she continued, "I brought you something. It's right… here." She pulled a yellow flower out of her pocket and gave it to him, grinning all the while. The flower was a delicate thing; a long, thin stem and a full bloom, the petals soft and silky and the same color as the summer sun. Miraculously, it had survived its journey in her pocket. Not one petal had been creased, not one leaf had been crushed. "It's for your friend," Aerith grinned.
"Oh, um..." Cloud's cheeks heated as he took the flower. A part of him wanted to protest, but another part argued that Tifa would like it. That she deserved pretty things. He could word it as a thank you gift; for finding him, for letting him stay, and for everything in between. "Thank you," he said honestly. "I think she'd like it."
"She definitely would," Aerith agreed. "The flower is called a yellow lily. Pretty, huh?" She grinned at him. "Bet you can't guess it's meaning!"
Cloud frowned, confused. "It's meaning?" Did flowers have individual meanings? Like, he understood that roses meant romance, or whatever, but he sure didn't know about the rest of them. They didn't exactly teach those things in the Shinra infantry. "Do all flowers have some one?"
"Of course, silly. Like…" She pressed a finger against her cheek, humming as she thought. "Well, have you even seen an apache plumes? It's like a shrub-like flower and used to grow around Midgar… never mind," she said, laughing at his expression. "Anyway, they symbolize attraction, while marigolds – another flower that used to grow around here – represent cruelty, grief, and jealousy."
That was kind of interesting, actually. "One flower can mean all of that?"
"That's right!"
Cloud hummed in response, and his gaze dropped down the yellow flower, his fingers gently pinching its delicate stem. The artificial sunlight caught its translucent petals until they were just shards of stained glass. "So what does this one mean?" he asked.
Aerith followed his gaze. "The yellow lily means reunion."
Cloud's eyes narrowed.
Reunion…?
Without warning, pain slit through his temple; it was a sudden throb that had him stumbling, spots dancing in his vision, a hammering ache that left him both gasping and breathless. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Who he was. All that existed was the pain, a hurt slamming against the walls of his skull, and the sound of the wind – a sound that was so distant, and so lonely, that it hurt far more than anything he felt physically.
"Cloud!" A hand around his arm tightened, the fingers digging through the sleeve and into his skin, keeping him balanced. "Cloud! What's wrong?"
Cloud. That's right. That… That was his name.
Cloud blinked open his eyes, not entirely sure when he had closed them. "S – Sorry," he managed, stumbling more upright - he didn't know when he had doubled over - as Aerith continued to hold his arm, her eyes bright and worried. "I'm... I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Aerith's brow was furrowed with concern. "You sounded like you were in a lot of pain."
"Just... Just a headache." One that was already fading into a small ache. One that he could easily ignore, and he offered her a wane smile. He had meant for it to be comforting, but she only looked more worried, so he let it slip. Turning away, he added, "I'm probably just… tired, or something."
"Or something," Aerith agreed. "You did have a busy day yesterday…"
"I'm fine, really."
"Well, I'm sure you are, but we shouldn't over do it." She chewed her inner cheek, uncertain. "Do you want to rest for a little bit?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm... I'm fine. But I, um..." His gaze dropped to his hand, to the flower he was holding. "I might have crushed your flower." He lifted the flower towards her in explanation, and winced when its bloom pitifully lulled between his fingers. "Sorry..."
"Oh, that's no big deal," she said, and he faintly exhaled Taking the flower, she continued, "We'll just cut the stem right about where it creased, and it'll be as good as new. So don't worry about it." She smiled at him, and it warmed something within him. Something that had chilled during his sudden migraine. "Okay?"
He only nodded.
"And you're positive that you're okay?"
"Yeah."
She nodded in response. "And don't worry, Cloud," she added, as if sensing his silent distress. Having already passed through Sector Five, they were just beginning to make out the tin, patchwork rooftops of the Sector Seven slums. "Your friend will love the flower anyway."
Cloud glanced at her, side-eyed. "How do you know?"
Aerith's eyes twinkled as she turned to him. "Because you'll be the one giving it to her."
Her words lit something within him, and he had to turn the other way to hide his growing blush, scowling all the while, his headache already forgotten.
"And then after you give her the flower," Aerith continued, "you'll introduce us. And then we'll talk until Zack gets here, and then maybe we can go out for dinner or something. And be back by sunset, of course," she added with a small sigh. "Hopefully Zack'll come back soon."
It was her voice, the fragility buried beneath her carefree tone, that made Cloud pause. Turning back towards the road, and squinting against the artificial sun's thin light, he said, "He will. But in the meantime," he added, his lips curving into a small, teasing grin, "we'll at least have some peace and quiet…" His tone trailed off as he scowled. "What?"
Aerith, who had been looking at him with a mixture of quiet joy and surprise, tore her gaze and shook her head, smiling all the while. "Nothing!" she said cheerfully. "Nothing at all. And I hate to break it to you, but..." She turned back to him, green eyes dancing beneath the artificial light. "Well, I'm not so quiet, either."
Cloud only shook his head, quietly smiling. "Just my luck."
Aerith laughed at that, and then they began the slow process of finding their way to the Seventh Heaven. They took a drunken, meandering route, if only because Cloud couldn't remember the exact way, and Aerith eventually had to ask someone for directions, but they eventually made it.
"It's quiet," Aerith noted as they ascended the steps. Each footstep rattled the old wood and rained dust underneath the planks. "Aren't bars supposed to be… I don't know," she frowned. "Busy?"
"They aren't open during the day," Cloud replied. Or at least, he thought that's what Tifa said, but he couldn't be sure. His memory of the past few days was far too hazy to be trusted.
Aerith tilted her head to better read the Seventh Heaven sign looming over the door, her eyes squinted against the thin light. "Think your friend is here?" she asked.
Cloud took a deep breath. "I hope so," he murmured before pushing the door open. His eyes instantly adjusted to the bar's dim lighting, so even while Aerith was still blinking and squinting into the dark, he had already noticed the three familiar men sitting at one of the tables. He could make out Biggs' dumbfounded expression as he looked up from his map, a complex tangle of blue lines and diagrams. Could clearly make out Wedge's surprise melt into a broad grin, as well as Barret's stunned, slack-jawed expression.
"You're alive," Wedge breathed into the quiet.
But they weren't who Cloud had been looking for, and his chest tightened as his eyes scanned the otherwise empty room. Yet Tifa wasn't here. She wasn't here, and the realization had the mako within his gaze burning as he turned back to Barret – because Barret, strangely enough, had begun to look guilty as he stared at Cloud. And Cloud wanted to know why.
"Where's Tifa?" he demanded.
He nearly added, And Jessie, but he wasn't given the chance. The stunned silence in the room had snapped and then Barret was suddenly flying to his feet, his chair loudly clattering behind him as she shouted, "The hell have you been!"
Cloud instinctively shifted to stand in front of Aerith, shielding her from Barret's burning glare. "Not dying," he coolly replied – not entirely a lie – even as his eyes scanned the room, the mako within them brightening. "Well? Where is she?"
"Oh shit!" Wedge's sudden exclamation nearly had Cloud jumping. "Cloud! Bro, you're alive!"
"And you brought a girl," Biggs noted, his tone somewhat stunned. "But I thought..."
Cloud loudly huffed his annoyance. "Where's -"
"Hi!" Aerith peaked over his shoulder, interrupting him. "I'm Aerith, Cloud's friend." To anyone else, her tone would have been friendly. Warm, even, but Cloud heard something else; the barest hint of winter buried within her summer, and he looked at her over his shoulder, puzzled. She took no notice of him though, and only continued in that strange tone of hers, "I take it you're all friends of Cloud's?"
"I wouldn't say friends," Cloud muttered, too low for the others to hear.
Wedge's expression lit up. "Aw, Cloud said that?" he said, only for his expression to shift into something a little sober. A little more worried. "Wait wait wait. That doesn't matter right now! Bro, you need to leave!"
Now that had his attention. His brow drawn, he turned to Wedge and deadpanned, "Not until you tell me where Tifa is."
"This is about Tifa!" Biggs said, and then he suddenly walking towards him, his stride long and purposeful. Cloud shifted to better shield Aerith, which she was thrilled by. "You need to go to her!" the larger man continued. "Now!"
"I'm trying!" Cloud rarely raised his voice, but he was beginning to shout now. "Just tell me where she is!"
"But why?" Aerith asked over his shoulder. "What's with the rush?"
"Umm..." Biggs turned to Barret for support, who only sighed, gruff and impatient.
Barret was the one who finally answered. "Some... thugs came looking for us. Bounty hunters," he said simply, which had Cloud's mako-stained eyes narrowing. "We have sizable bounty on our heads, and this guy Corneo knows who placed the bounty. Tifa is going there to get more information on the situation."
A bounty? Cloud suddenly felt cold, the sort of cold that couldn't be chased away with just a jacket. This is exactly like Zack had said, he realized in dawning horror. Shinra is looking for him. Placed a bounty on his head, and now Tifa is going to look for more information…
Tifa's in danger.
The thought whipped through his mind so quickly, and with such stunning clarity, that it left him breathless.
"Where's Tifa?" he sharply demanded. "And who's Corneo?"
But Aerith knew exactly who Don Corneo was, and her breathing impossibly shallow against his back. "What?" Her voice sounded tight. "She's going to Corneo?"
"Yeah, and she's getting ready at her apartment right now." Wedge bounced back on forth on the balls of his feet, his nerves getting the best of him. "But since you're here, everything is okay! She doesn't have to go anymore!"
"You let her go to Corneo?" Aerith glowered at the three men, looking far more angry than Cloud could have imagined her being. All of a sudden, she didn't look like she was holding a wilted flower, but a sword – one that she wasn't afraid to use. "After what you did to Cloud?"
That caught Cloud's attention and he turned to her, suddenly afraid of what she was about to say.
"You mean to tell me," Aerith continued, waving off Cloud's meek attempt to comment, "that after you used Cloud, while he was sick with mako poisoning and had just woken up from a coma, to bomb a Shinra reactor – which is dangerous and stupid and put a bounty on his head, by the way – you then use Tifa to get more information? His girlfriend?"
Cloud wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear. "Not my girlfriend," he mumbled, but his words fell on deaf ears.
"And she's already worried sick about him, and probably isn't in her right mind!" Aerith loudly huffed before looking at all three men in turn, who's expression ranged from shock that a stranger was berating them, to utter devastation. "And you still let her go?!"
"She insisted," Wedge protested, finding his voice first. "We told her it was a bad idea!"
"And mako poisoning?" Barret glanced at Cloud, his dark gaze unreadable. "Mr. SOLDIER-boy had mako poisoning? Why didn't you tell us!"
"Uh...Um..."Cloud bit his lip, shifted his weight to his other foot. How could he explain it? How could he explain that he had only just found out himself that morning? That he was messed up in the head that he was missing five years of his life, and that he just hoped that he had made SOLDIER because of his eyes, because it had been his dream sine he was a child?
But what really happened was that I… that I had been expe…
He thickly swallowed. Shifted his weight again. "Um, I… I don't…"
"Don't answer them, Cloud." Aerith suddenly grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the door, much to his surprise... and, strangely enough, relief. "As for the rest of you," she added, turning around with a sharp look, "I hope you think long and hard about your actions for the rest of the day. This is incredibly disappointing – now Cloud and Tifa are both in danger due to your stupidity and apathy – and you should all be ashamed of yourselves."
Cloud nearly winced on their behalf. He hadn't even been the one she had been yelling at, but even he felt a little bit guilty.
Having finished her tirade, Aerith pushed open the door. A stale breeze pushed its way into the bar. "Come on, Cloud," she loudly declared, her hand still tight on his arm. "Let's go find Tifa."
Cloud could feel the stunned stares of the rest of the team on his back. But at the same time, he couldn't help his small smile as he said, "Okay."
It was bad timing.
Tifa had all three of her dresses splayed out on her bed, a colorful mesh of blacks and blues and muted reds. It had taken her a while to even find them; stuffed in a box, hidden beneath the bed, wrapped and unworn with the hope that when she did wear them, when she did pull them out and unwrap them, it would be for someone special. Someone who knew her scars, inside and out, and someone who didn't mind that she specifically chose these dresses because they covered every single one. She had hoped to wear one of these dresses for someone who made her feel warm and safe and, dare she say it, happy. Someone who felt like home. Someone who made her feel like all of her silly childhood daydreams about love and romance had meant something, that they hadn't been just silly, girlish fantasies.
Biting her lip, she realized that she had been hoping that she'd wear one for Cloud.
Yet here she was. Forcing herself to decide which one of her beautiful dress she would wear for Corneo. Corneo, who was none of the things she had been hoping for. Who only wanted her as some sort of trophy. As something to be won over, used, and discarded the next morning.
But there was nothing that could be done about it now. Cloud wasn't here, she needed something from Corneo, and the rest didn't really matter anymore.
Like she had said – bad timing.
So she didn't mind that her dresses smelled a little musty from being hidden away for so long. Didn't mind that there were a few creases, or that their rich colors had been dulled with dust, or that she wasn't even sure if they fit as nicely anymore. A small part of her shriekedthat she should care. That if Corneo didn't like her – if he didn't think that she was pretty enough – then she wouldn't be chosen as the wife. And if that didn't happen, then getting the information on Cloud's bounty would be difficult.
But not impossible, she told herself as she ran a hand along the dresses' silky fabric. If Corneo didn't choose her, then she would get her information a different way. A more violent way. The way she never wanted to rely on, but was especially tempted to now because it was Cloud who was in danger.
A knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts.
Tifa whirled, wide-eyed, even as her heart leapt up to her throat. Cloud? She was across the room in the moment, her muscles tense as she threw open the front door…
… only to stare blinking, the familiar name that had ben kissing her lips withering on her tongue and sinking into her like a stone.
Jessie managed a thin smile. "Hi," she greeted at Tifa's blank expression. "Just us." Marlene beamed at her, completely unaware of Tifa's sudden deflation. "We thought we'd come help you get ready."
"Tifa!" Marlene rushed forward to latch onto Tifa's legs, and Tifa had to grab the door frame for balance. "Jessie told me that you're going to the princess ball!" She looked up, her brown eyes wide and excited. "Are you going to meet a prince?"
Tifa just about winced, but managed to school her expression into something like smile at the last possible moment. "I don't know about a prince..." she managed to say. A slug would be a better term, honestly, and even that was generous.
"Actually, Marlene," Jessie said as she closed the door behind them. "The prince won't be there tonight, so Tifa's going to the ball tonight to talk diplomacy."
Marlene's lower lip puckered in confusion. "Diplosee?"
"Diplomacy," Tifa gently corrected. She reached down to pick the smaller girl up, and balanced her on her hip as she walked towards the bed – and her three dresses piled on top. "That means that I'm going to talk to a bunch of people and ask for stuff that I want."
Marlene's expression lit up. "Like how I ask Daddy for new toys?"
Tifa grinned. "That's right," she said. "You're so smart."
"Daddy thinks so, too!"
"And since you're so smart," Tifa continued, showing Marlene the dresses, "want to help me pick out a dress?"
"Really?" Marlene turned to her, and light danced within her brown eyes. "Really really?"
"Really really," Tifa grinned. It was strange; she had been so anxious earlier, but all of that was already melting away at the small girl's enthusiasm.
Not entirely though, and flared as Jessie dumped a makeup bag on her desk. "I also brought make-up," the ex-actress loudly declared. Her makeup was far bigger than one Tifa had ever seen, and it was far more full, too. It put her own meager collection to shame. "We can figure out the style as soon as you pick out a dress, though."
Tifa blinked. "Style?"
"Yeah, you know." Jessie waved her hand, as if this was all very obvious. "Do you want something more natural, or smokey, or matte? We could do something with more shimmer in it too, depending on the dress." She looked over Tifa's small dress selection with a practiced eye. "Pick one out yet?"
"Well, Marlene?" Tifa set Marlene on the ground, who immediately began to pat down the dresses with her small hands. "Have a favorite?"
"Mmm..." Marlene hummed, as seriously as she could manage, before she slapped one of the dresses particularly hard. "This one!"
"Be careful with the dresses, honey," Jessie told her. "They're special."
Marlene snapped her hand back as if the dress had burned her. "Sorry!"
"It's okay." Tifa plucked the chosen dress off of the bed and held it out in front of her, letting gravity pull down its thick fabric. "They aren't that special." Not anymore.
The dress Marlene had picked was a black kimono-style dress, complete with a thick lavender belt corded with scarlet accent rope, and dark thigh-highs with matching boots. The exotic dress wasn't the most provocative in her collection – her indigo cocktail dress firmly claimed that spot – but it was still relatively flashy, with the bottom of its hem just brushing against her mid-thigh and a headband of pink flowers waterfalling into its plunging neckline.
But what Tifa really liked about the dress were the sleeves. They were full and long; if she stretched her arms to her sides, their hems would fall down to her hips. In other words, they were the perfect place to hide a weapon. Preferably several.
"Good choice, Marlene," Tifa said honestly before draping the dress over the chair. Moving to pack up the rest in their boxes, she continued, "I think everyone will really like it."
Marlene lit up. "Really?"
"Really really," Tifa grinned.
"Now all that's left is to get you into it." Jessie dug through her generous makeup up, pulling out eyeshadow pallets and lipstick that complimented the dress. "You're going to look stunning. Here, let me help you put it on."
"Oh, it's okay," Tifa said quickly. She glanced at Jessie's wide selection of makeup before turning back to her, swallowing thickly. "Really. I can put a dress on by myself."
Jessie rolled her eyes. "Obviously you can," she said, but then Jessie did something that Tifa didn't expect.
Jessie hugged her.
Hugged her close, like she was something precious, like something she was afraid to lose. "I'm so sorry about Cloud," she whispered in her ear, far too low for Marlene – who was busy admiring the makeup and sparkling eyeshadow – to overhear. Tifa's eyes widened a fraction; a familiar burn tightened her throat. "He protected me on the mission. Protected all of us, actually. He's really strong. So wherever he is now," Jesie quietly murmured, "I know he's fine. I know it."
Tifa's pressed her lips together, and suddenly it was an effort to blink back the tears budding in her scarlet eyes.
"And honestly..." Jessie suddenly pulled away from her, her hands heavy on Tifa's shoulder, he smile warm and kind. "He's probably just lost, and is too embarrassed to ask for directions."
A choked laugh bubbled out of Tifa before she could stop it. "You're probably right," she laughed, using her wrist to dry her damp eyes. "He can be so stubborn."
"So stubborn," Jessie agreed with a grin. "Little bit better?"
Tifa smiled; her throat still felt tight, and her chest still felt like it was being squeezed and it was difficult to breathe, but she smiled anyway. "Little bit better," she agreed.
"Good." Jessie pulled the dress off of the chair and held it against Tifa. "Now how about I help you get in this dress?"
As it turned out, Jessie was an expert at wrapping kimonos, and made sure Tifa's hung on her frame properly and securely before sitting her down in the desk chair. Marlene watched Tifa's hair get done with enthusiasm, oohing and ahhing in all the right places, and her enthusiasm was contagious. Even Tifa found herself smiling as her hair was straightened, tucked aside with bobby pins, and the floral ornaments secured in place.
"Beautiful," Jessie told her, her tone serious.
"Beautiful!" Marlene proudly echoed, kicking her feet out as she sat on the bed. "You're gonna be the prettiest princess at the ball!"
Tifa smiled at her, her insides clawing within her. "I hope so."
"Just wait until we get some makeup on you," Jessie grinned.
"And here I thought that we were finally done," Tifa teased, careful not to turn her head too quickly. She didn't want to mess up her hair, not when Jessie had worked so hard on it.
Jessie only laughed. "Done?" she echoed. "Heck no! All we did is your hair. You think that I'm going to let you walk to Cor…. to the ball… without any foundation or mascara? Girl," she drawled, "what kind of friend would I be if I let you do that?"
"Well." Tifa allowed Jessie to move her head this way and that. "I guess you know best."
"Darn straight," Jessie agreed.
And with that, they started on Tifa's makeup. As it turned out, it colors Jessie had chosen weren't nearly as gaudy or applied nearly as thickly as Tifa had been afraid of. Instead, Jessie had gone for more of a natural look. Primer, foundation, and highlighter to even and enhance her natural skin tone. Light pink eyeshadow and dark mascara to compliment the headband and bring out the scarlet in her eyes, and blushing rose lipstick to match. Then, after all was said and done, Jessie applied a setting spray to make sure the carefully-applied makeup lasted the rest of the day… as well as the following night, if such a thing would be needed.
"There," Jessie said after the setting spray had been applied. She threw the makeup in her bag and zipped it up. "That's that."
"Tifa!" Marlene bounded to her, but didn't latch on like she usually would. Instead she pressed her hands against her arm, as if she was afraid she'd break the dress. "You look like a princess!"
Tifa felt her cheeks warm. "Thank you, Marlene."
"Want to take a look at the mirror before your carriage arrives?" Jessie asked her.
Tifa hesitated, biting her loop. It wasn't that she didn't want to see herself. But the truth was… she was a little nervous.
But what was there to be nervous about? she asked herself, and immediately followed up with a firm: Nothing. There was nothing to be nervous about. She was Tifa Lockhart, a martial art expert, a survivor, and she could handle anything life threw at her. Including a face-full of makeup.
Tifa slowly exhaled. "Yeah, let's see it," she said after a pause, and carefully picked her way to the bathroom, careful not to touch her face or walk too quickly. And when she got there, when she turned towards the mirror…
… she almost didn't recognize herself.
The face looking back at her didn't belong to a bartender working in the slums. Didn't belong to a member of a eco-terrorist group, or a martial artist, or someone who hid their scars behind clothes and smiles.
Instead, the reflection staring wide-eyed back at her looked… well, beautiful. But not the fragile sort of beauty, the temporary prettiness that belonged to a flower. Instead, her reflection was beautiful in the way that mountains were wild and unmovable, in the way that the stars were untouchable, in the way the sky burned in stunning, breathtaking colors before the dawn.
"It's… I… I don't know what to say," Tifa finally murmured. Turning back to Jessie and Marlene, she managed to say, her voice thick with emotion, "Thank you both so much."
"You look stunning," Jessie told her honestly. Her copper gaze was watery. "You'll knock their socks off, I swear it."
Marlene tugged on Jessie's pants. "Can I wear a pretty dress, too?" she asked, her lower lip picked into a pout. "And makeup?"
"We can definitely put on pretty dresses when we get back," Jessie said, patting her head. "May have to convince Barret about the makeup, though..."
Tifa giggled, just imagining Barret walking into the bar only to see Marlene dolled up in makeup. He would have an absolute heart attack.
"I can use diplosee," Marlene insisted.
"Diplomacy," Tifa gently corrected.
"And speaking of diplomacy," Jessie added, glancing at the door, "I hear something rattling outside. Think it's your carriage?"
My carriage. Tifa's heart plummeted. She had almost forgotten; the man they had captured at the bar had ordered one for her, if only because that was the only way the prospect wives were allowed into Corneo's mansion.
And now it was here, waiting outside for her.
Right now.
She quickly stomped down the anxiety that threatened to swell up within her, and instead shot Jessie and Marlene a thin smile. "Maybe we should check."
Sure enough, there was the carriage on the road, waiting for her. It was a gaudy thing, with red walls, ornate glass windows, and a thick pink curtain that separated its occupants from the rest of the world. The chocobo pulling the carriage idly scratched the dirt as the captured man held the reins, looking supremely awkward as Marle, her landlord and more-or-less adopted grandmother, glared daggers at him.
"I think Marle's giving him a hard time," Jessie murmured.
Tifa nodded her approval. "Good," she said simply, and slowly made her way down the stairs. She didn't know how Marle found out about her night, or how she ended up babysitting their captured man, but at the moment she didn't particularly care. She had other things on her mind.
To Tifa's endless surprise, the man's expression lit up when he saw her. "Thank the gods," he muttered as Tifa walked towards him, flanked by Jessie and Marlene. "You actually look nice."
"Is that any way to talk to a woman?" Marle snapped at him, causing the man to jolt in his seat.
"I – I – I mean." The man's gaze shifted between Tifa and Marle before finally resting on Tifa, his hands wringing nervously against the reins. "You, uh, look lovely. Wonderful. Like – Like a summer…" He winced. "Flower?"
Marle huffed. "Poor, but an improvement."
"Thanks for keeping an eye on him, Marle," Jessie murmured as Tifa eased herself into the carriage.
"Of course." Marle made a low sound, her gray bun bobbing in rhythm. "Can't have him running off on our Tifa, can we?"
Jessie grinned. "Of course not."
Tifa had made herself comfortable, and had situated herself on one of the plush seats, her legs delicately folded beneath her. "Good luck in there," Jessie told her.
"Have fun at the princess ball!" Marlene cheerfully added.
"And keep your chin up," Marle added, her expression betraying her anxiety. "And you come straight back, you hear?"
Tifa managed a small smile. "I will, I promise." She felt her eyes prick with warmth, but quickly stomped the emotion back; Jessie had worked so hard on her mascara; she didn't want to ruin it. "And... thanks, guys," she said hoarsely. "I mean it."
"I'll see you went you get back," Jessie said. "We'll celebrate! Wedge can buy the pizza," she added with a laugh.
Tifa managed a small smile. "That would be great."
There was a sudden crack as their captured man – now delegated to unwilling driver – snapped the reins, signaling their departure. "Time to go," he muttered, and the wheels rattled beneath the carriage as it rumbled forward, swaying with every rut and dip on the dirt road.
Tifa had to balance herself against the wall as she closed to the curtains to prying eyes, but as she was closing the last curtain, she thought that she saw a tuft of blond hair. Blond hair that was all messy and spiked in a heart-wrenchingly familiar way that she would recognize anywhere.
Before she even realized what she was doing, she was throwing the curtain open and leaning out the window, prying eyes and ogling be damned, preparing to scream Cloud's name.
Yet the moment she had gripped the window frame and pushed her upper half outside, the sound dying in her throat. Because he had already turned the corner. Because he was gone, and she was left blinking at the road that he had just been on, wondering if she had even seen him at all.
There was a lot going on this chapter - I hope that it wasn't too much?
Anyway, I'm not really sure how to say this, but: Starting this week, I'll be updating every 10 days instead of every Friday. Work has gotten exceptionally busy b/c I was put in charge of a projects, and they're going to be taking up a lot of my time until... pretty much when the pandemic ends. But anyway, hopefully 10 days will be enough time; but if not, and it's still a little too much, then we'll have have to bump up the days a little more. Either way, we'll be back on a more regular schedule eventually. Thanks for being so patient! :)
So with the new publishing schedule, the next chapter will be published on Monday, August 31st (feel free me on Twitter (Rand0mSmil3z) if you'd like to see previews!) Until then, stay well, stay safe, and I wish you all the best :)
If you're enjoying the story so far, it would mean the world to me if you'd support my writing by visiting my Ko-Fi account (link on my profile). But of course, there is absolutely no pressure to do so - if you're happy with Halcyon Days, then I'm happy :)
