A/N: Alright y'all, we're entering the last stretch.
I do think it's worth listening to the piece as you go along with the chapter for the atmosphere it brings. And I recommend Richter's interpretation.
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Prélude op.32 no.10 - Rachmaninoff
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A Sea of Silence
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13: Prélude Op.32 No.10 in B Minor
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The voices rising beyond the door seem too loud to Tifa. They have to be for her to hear them over the suffocating beat of her heart. Her hand hangs in the air, ready to knock to let Cloud know she's here—unannounced but hopefully not unwelcome. When she does knock, it cuts through the cacophony of her heartbeat, and she realizes the voices weren't that loud after all.
Cloud doesn't seem surprised to see her standing there; he gives her a small smile, something that tells her it's not going too well, but it's also not going terribly.
"I just wanted to see how it went," Tifa says, voice low, "but I'll go back since he's still here."
"No, it's fine." Cloud gestures at her to walk in, and she does after a slight hesitation. "Sit with us for a bit."
The way his hand drops between her shoulders, heavy and a little forceful, makes her think he doesn't want to be alone with his brother, so she nods and follows his lead into the living room. Seph stares without a word as she takes a seat on the couch next to Cloud. It's a reflex to keep a certain distance between them, and Cloud doesn't appear to mind that she did. Tifa crosses her legs, smoothing out the fabric of her jeans even if there is no need; Seph's unblinking look brings out latent nervousness.
"Hello again," he says. There's that same polite smile that makes her wary. "Tifa, right?"
She nods. "Sorry for intruding."
"You're good," Cloud interjects before his brother can speak.
The tension in his body is palpable to Tifa; without thinking, she reaches out, dropping a hand on his arm. It's impossible for her to ignore how Seph's eyes track her movement—Tifa raises her gaze in a burst of defiance, feeling like there is a challenge to respond to. But Seph only blinks and then smiles; Tifa reflexively tightens her grip on Cloud's arm.
"You guys go to university together?" Seph waits for Tifa's confirmation before adding, "What do you study?"
"Sociology," she says as she brings her hand back to her side. "Graduating next year."
"Oh, I see."
Next to her, Cloud stiffens and takes a deep breath; it's obvious the comment bothered him, but she can't see why until Seph speaks again.
"Cloud is graduating in a few months."
"Yes," Tifa says, her wariness clear. She remembers how Cloud said his brother would make remarks that seemingly came out of nowhere—words with jagged edges that took you by surprise.
"Do you want something to drink?"
Cloud's sudden question startles her, and it takes her a second to understand he was addressing her. "Just some water, please."
He stands and walks into the kitchen; he's not far enough to be truly alone, but Tifa can tell he needs the small distance. The way Seph mentioned his brother's upcoming graduation felt confrontational—or at least that's the first impression Tifa got. But something about the glimpse of sadness in his expression as he watched Cloud get up makes her think that's not what it was, not really. Still, she finds it difficult to bring it up, especially with Cloud near enough to overhear. She keeps silent instead—so does Seph. The only noise comes from the kitchen as Cloud does everything he can to stall; when he comes back and hands her the glass, Tifa thanks him. Awkwardness settles as Cloud doesn't sit and heads in the back of the apartment without a word; his bedroom door shuts behind him, and she blinks the confusion away.
"He's not happy I'm here," Seph says after a moment. He smiles again, but there is no pretense now, and Tifa notices the weariness he tried so hard to hide before. "We don't get along that well."
Tifa nods then takes a sip of water; she puts the glass down on the coffee table. "I know. He's told me."
"I wager he's told you a lot."
"Yes," she says since there is no point in hiding it. It's obvious Seph caught unto the situation on his own.
He falls back into the armchair. "Then you know we're not close."
"Yes," she says again. Her hands clench in her lap, and she folds them together to hide their tension; that frightful sensation builds in her chest again.
Faint noise echoes from the bedroom, drawers slamming shut like Cloud is searching for something.
"I'm not his favorite person, to be honest." Seph's eyes dart towards the back of the apartment, then back to Tifa.
She figures it's the anxiety rising within her that makes the words leave her unbidden, like she'll choke on them otherwise. "That doesn't mean he doesn't care." A sort of desperation to make him understand grabs her, something she can't explain or can't control. "You don't know how worried he's been."
"Oh, I know," Seph says, voice soft.
A door opens, and she turns her head to see Cloud walk back to them; he hands something to Seph—a small photo album, Tifa realizes. Seph doesn't open it, only gives his brother a smile.
"Thank you. Mom will be happy to have that back."
"I don't know why she didn't ask me before," Cloud says, annoyance shining through.
When he sits at the end of the couch and leans back to rest his head in her lap, Tifa holds in her surprise—not at the display of affection, but rather at the casual nature of it. The look he sends her is filled with exhaustion—Tifa runs her fingers through his hair to let him know it's alright, and he closes his eyes.
"You didn't tell me you were dating," Seph says.
Though the statement seems addressed to Cloud, she has a feeling it's meant for her as she remembers their previous meeting in the hall.
Cloud sighs. "Seph, this is my girlfriend, Tifa. Tifa, this is my brother Sephiroth, but we call him Seph cause that's a mouthful."
She rolls her eyes at his attitude, earning a chuckle from his brother. "Don't be a dick."
"It's fine, Tifa." Seph opens the photo album and browses through a few pages as he speaks. "Cloud's always been a little shit."
"Fuck you, Seph." There is no animosity in Cloud's voice.
Tifa stays quiet as the chatter carries on; the tension that had blanketed them fades away, allowing her to breathe. She doesn't miss cues, speaking when prompted, but there's something about Seph's attitude that has her hold back. It's hard to say why exactly—she figures it's the unusualness of his visit. Maybe that's why she gets this weird sensation in her chest—this strange feeling that she's intruding on something she shouldn't be, like she should let Cloud enjoy his time with his brother. She's on the verge of leaving when Seph stands up; the movement is abrupt, taking them by surprise.
"I have a long drive ahead of me, so I should leave," Seph says. His clipped tone makes Cloud frown, though he doesn't comment on it. "Sorry for dropping unannounced."
Cloud gets up as well. "It's fine." He clears his throat, shuffles his feet, messes up his hair. "I'm glad you came."
His nervousness is vibrant and impossible to miss; Tifa wishes she could look away, but something deep within her tells her she shouldn't.
Seph keeps quiet for a second too long, exponentiating Cloud's edginess, but then speaks. "Me too."
The softness in his voice seems to startle Cloud—but it only makes Tifa's heart beat faster and faster, like she's waiting for something to happen and yet can't see what it would be. When Seph turns his eyes on her, Tifa chokes on the mindless parting words that had been crawling up her throat; the intensity of his gaze worries her, though she can't say why—as far as she knows, there's nothing to be scared about, isn't there?
"It was nice meeting you, Tifa." Seph gives her a smile—a real one, Tifa realizes, because there's that sadness and weariness again. He glances in between his brother and her, and when he says, "Take care of each other," she hears the unsaid take care of him ring in her ears.
"Yes, of course," she says, unsure what else she could say. Tifa is about to get to her feet when Seph moves towards the front of the apartment and away from her. "Have a safe drive back," she adds instead.
Seph pauses as he grabs his coat and then nods. "Thanks."
As Cloud passes by her to join his brother, Tifa can't help but turn around in her seat to watch them. There's something definitely impolite about witnessing their goodbye, but that fear gnaws at her still, and the urge is too strong to fight. She keeps her gaze on them as they speak in hushed voices; if she's glad for one thing, it's that she can't overhear them, their semblance of privacy respected. When Cloud wraps his brother in a hug, Seph freezes, his arms at his sides; it takes a moment for him to return the embrace. The fierceness of it is what makes Tifa look away—right as Seph brings his eyes up to hers. It makes her feel like she got caught, and her heartbeat accelerates in answer, as if she can only wait for the consequences of her actions to befall her. But nothing happens, of course—Seph and Cloud part, and with one more goodnight, Seph walks out of the door.
To her dismay, Tifa finds that she can't breathe any easier now that he's gone. If anything, it gets worse as Cloud comes back to sit next to her. When a phone sounds to indicate a new message, she jumps and only relaxes once Cloud tells her Zack is an idiot and considering pranking Reno again.
As they eat a quick dinner, they don't talk about Seph, and Tifa can't say if she's relieved or disappointed; the indecisiveness eats at her heart until it hollows enough that it can't beat properly anymore, and she can't take it, she has to say something.
"How did it go with Seph while I was gone?" Her question comes out of nowhere, interrupting Cloud as he talks about his assignment due in two days. His confused stare doesn't deter her; her grip on her fork tightens, and for a second, she feels like she'll puke from the anxiety drumming through her. "You didn't seem happy when I got here."
Cloud blinks a few times as if he needs a moment to digest the change in topic; he takes a gulp of water, and she has the stray thought that he must have wanted something stronger. "He just makes me nervous sometimes. I can't always tell if he means well, and most of the time I get it wrong, so we argue. Like that comment he made about me graduating before you. It felt like he wanted to start a fight with me."
"I don't think that was it," Tifa blurts out. In the back of her mind, she realizes she should shut up, that it's none of her business. And yet... "I think he's trying to look out for you in his own way."
"Look out for me?" Cloud's voice seems too loud, filling the small space between them; the muffled noise of the TV blares in her ears. "That makes no sense."
"Why not?" She speaks before she can think, her reaction instinctive. "He's your brother."
Cloud opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by his phone ringing; he sighs before getting up to grab the phone. It's only once he's answered the call and she hears him say, "No, I can't come in tomorrow, I have plans," that she breathes again. She unclasps her hand and holds back a wince; her nails dug into her palm, deep enough to leave marks.
His call ended, Cloud comes back to the table, but to her surprise, he doesn't sit; instead, he gathers his plate and heads for the sink. She watches him for a moment, taking in his brusque movements, his edgy silence.
"I didn't mean to upset you," she says as she joins him with her plate.
Cloud takes it from her hands despite her protests. "You barely ate anything."
It's tempting to tell him she's anxious, but the lack of explanation for that same anxiety is what stops her—it frustrates her that she can't figure it out, and that only worsens the discomfort.
"I wasn't that hungry." The lie comes out flat and easy to see through, but Tifa can't be bothered to try harder; it's far from being a priority right now.
Thankfully, Cloud doesn't push. He cleans the plate and puts it to dry on the rack. Tifa stays next to him the whole time; there's a sinking feeling in her stomach that makes her believe she can't move away—can't stray far because then something might happen.
"I have to finish my assignment," Cloud says once he's done. He wipes his hands, then puts the towel back; she can't help but think that he's avoiding her eyes.
The implications of his statement engulf her, and she steps back towards the living room. "Okay, I'll leave you to it, then."
"That's not—" Cloud sighs and rubs his forehead. "I wasn't saying that so you'd leave. You can stay as long as you want. I just have to focus on that."
"Alright," she whispers, relief washing over her. "I have studying to do, too."
They both settle to work—Tifa sits at the desk while he takes the couch. The silence that falls once the TV is turned off is oppressing; Tifa hears her own heart, its beat drowning out her concentration—the thump thump thump of it scares and overwhelms her. She stares at the time ticking away on her computer, and as it goes on and on, it feels like someone took scissors to her heart and she's about to vomit what's left of it.
It's when the clock hits 22:58 that she can't take it anymore—can't stand looking at the seconds flying away from her. She stands up, and the sudden move startles Cloud, who looks up and removes his headphones.
"You okay?"
Again, she finds it easier to lie than to admit to unexplained agitation. "Yeah. I'm going to sleep."
As she walks past him towards his bedroom, Cloud grabs her hand, halting her. "Tifa—what's wrong?"
"Just—" She gulps, swallowing down the stream of words threatening to come out—tears prickle her eyes at the frustration growing within her. "Just feeling weird tonight. I'll sleep it off." Tifa pulls her hand away, afraid he'll feel its tremors. "Goodnight."
She's gone before he can say anything more, and it's only with the door to the bathroom between them that she exhales. Going through her nightly routine is mindless and a needed distraction that doesn't last long enough. It's cold in the bedroom, and she lays below the covers, bringing them up to her neck. The noise from the street rises and falls, a song she tries to get lost to without success.
Tifa isn't sure what she had expected—for the dark to soothe her maybe, or for the distance to remind her everything is fine, that she's panicking over nothing. But, really, nothing changes, and instead, she's left alone to wither from the poison of her anxiety. Her eyes stay fixed on a spot next to the window, in between the curtains and the bookcase; there's nothing to look at, but the constant becomes calming after a while—that is, until her gaze wanders to the left and unto a shelf. There is the usual mess of books and trinkets and CDs found on every bookcase Cloud owns—but there is also a picture in a frame, one she's seen before but never paid attention to. It's Cloud and his family, that she knows now. The dimness makes it hard to discern; there's only the light from the door being slightly ajar. But the more she looks at it, unfocused and hesitant, the more it seems to sharpen.
There's a woman who must be their mother in the middle, surrounded by her three sons—Cloud on her left, and who she guesses is Denzel on her right. Behind her, over her shoulder and closest to Cloud, is Seph; he towers over them, making him hard to ignore. From afar, it's impossible to see more, but still, Tifa gets the impression that he is not where he wants to be. Perhaps it's the distance he put between himself and the others—but then again, she notices as she gets out of bed and pads to the bookcase, he stands near Cloud, like he does want to be there. And she thinks—maybe it's that he doesn't know how to be there. To be with the world and his family.
Tifa picks up the frame, smoothing the dust away from the glass. There is not enough light, but she doesn't dare to turn the bedside lamp on—it seems so much more apt to have these thoughts and these fears in the darkness.
Her fingers linger over Cloud's face; his expression is his typical one, a little disinterested and a little annoyed—but the love he holds for them shines through nonetheless, and she would have smiled at his cool facade on any other day. His little brother, Denzel, smiles at the camera—he can't be much older than thirteen on the picture, and yet there's a kindness and maturity around him that makes Tifa's shoulders loosen. Their mother is blonde like Cloud and has soft eyes like Denzel—she also has a smile that reminds Tifa of Seph, full of weariness and sort of sad, but genuine even so.
It's Seph, again, who startles Tifa. It's his eyes, she realizes at last—there's something almost cruel to them. She remembers all the discussions she had with Cloud about his brother—about how he wouldn't accept help, yet still sought it out. And they come back slowly, all the words she exchanged with him tonight—and she hears them differently this time.
Cloud is graduating in a few months.
I'm not his favorite person, to be honest.
Mom will be happy to have that back.
Me too.
Take care of each other.
The phone ringing tears through the silence, scaring Tifa, and she drops the frame; the sound of glass breaking rises, adding to the cacophony. She grips her shirt over her heart as it again goes thump thump thump in her ears, suffocating everything for a long moment. Her hold loosens as unexpected noises echo from the living room—like Cloud is in a hurry, like he's about to run out of the door, like he got bad news—
Tifa grabs her phone to glance at the time—12:52AM—as she walks out of the bedroom; a call this late can't be good, it just can't. Cloud is shrugging on his jacket, boots already on; she only has a second to glimpse his face—and see the terror and the panic there—before he runs out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. Before she even realizes what she's done, Tifa has slipped her feet into her boots and grabbed her coat as well; she doesn't put it on, not having time to slow down when she hears Cloud thundering down the stairs.
"Cloud!"
Her shout echoes in the stairwell, jarring and loud, but she couldn't care less. Someone pokes their head out of their door as she reaches the ground floor, only to see Cloud is already outside. It's a middle-aged man who yells at her to shut the fuck up, we're trying to sleep, but Tifa ignores him—the air is cold outside, reminding her she's in PJs and dragging a jacket around. Still, she doesn't stop as she follows Cloud and she understands he's headed for the bus stop—and why does there have to be one so close to the apartment—she could have driven him home—because that has to be it, something must have happened there—
"Cloud!" she yells again.
But her voice is lost to the city. The bus pulls up before she can reach him—Cloud climbs aboard, and the doors shut. Tifa halts to watch the bus drive away from the curb. It's as she stands there, cold and alone, that she becomes aware she's shivering; aware of the death grip she has on her phone. It all happened so suddenly, she thinks as she puts on the jacket; the shock of Cloud's departures sinks into her—the thought that he was so scared is what she sees over and over again in her mind. She's left with too many questions, and yet deep down, she knows she has the answers.
Tifa stares at the bus as it disappears from sight, turning a corner; it's only once she's certain it won't magically come back that she turns around. The world feels strange around her as she tries the building's door and it doesn't budge—of course it doesn't, she didn't grab her keys, and now there's no one to buzz her in. Tears that had been threatening to fall all night trickle down her cheeks as she shivers, the wind lashing at her bare legs. The middle-aged man who yelled at her went back inside his apartment, and for a second, Tifa considers banging on the main door to annoy him again so he'll come to open up. But the weight of her emotions becomes too much, and instead, she sits on the porch steps, feeling like her legs are about to give out. The tears keep on falling, silent and freezing in the night; Tifa could wipe them away, but she doesn't have the strength right now.
She takes a deep breath, then another—she has to calm down, has to find a solution to all this. The realization she took her phone with her hits her, making her shake her head at her obliviousness. Tifa unlocks the screen and her breath hitches; she had forgotten her background is a picture of Cloud taken a week ago—of him smiling candidly, happy and carefree. A sharp sob breaks out of her; she can't tear her eyes away from the picture despite the pain it brings—but the pain is not for her, it's for him because she knows she won't see Cloud smiling at her like this again for a long time.
Because things will change after tonight, won't they? Tifa can't believe they won't. Not from the way Cloud ran away, not from the doubts stabbing at her heart and twisting her stomach and drawing the air out of her lungs. It's tempting to text Cloud in order to get confirmation; the need to know gnaws at her. Before she's realized it, she's typed out a message. She freezes before sending it, her gaze fixed on the screen—on the jumping dots indicating he's writing to her.
Tifa waits, and the dots dance, teasing her and fueling her edginess; the tears have stopped now, but there is still something crawling under skin and through her body that is begging to be set free. She waits, but no message comes in—after a while, Cloud stops typing, leaving her in the dark. Tifa looks at what she had written—what happened? did something happen to Seph?—and then deletes the text. Part of her isn't sure why she does it; not out of pettiness, that's for sure, but maybe out of confusion—she is stumbling through the night, unable to find stable ground, unable to stand straight and be honest. If she had told Cloud about her fear, her anxiety, maybe things could have been different; maybe Seph wouldn't have left, and then—
She drops her head in her hands, still clutching her phone. That feeling of dread she had all evening, it was about Seph and not about Cloud. The way he had spoken about his brother, about his visit—it had given her a strange vibe, sad and almost desperate but also rather calm—final, even. And now, it seems obvious in retrospect; Tifa hates that she didn't see it—really see it—in time.
It wasn't just a visit—it was a goodbye.
Tifa stays like this for a few minutes, absorbing the horror of the night; it seeps through her pores, infects what is left of her heart. It's only once she feels her composure return that she unlocks her phone again. This time, she finds Zack's name. The call goes to voicemail, so she dials again. He answers this time, his voice filled with sleep and annoyance.
"What the fuck?" His mumbling can barely be heard as if he spoke in his pillow.
"Zack, I—" Tifa inhales, sensing cracks forming in her fragile self-control. "I need you to come see me," she carries on.
"Tifa?" Zack asks, confused but more awake.
She gulps down the rising tears. "Yeah. Something happened."
Noise follows, like Zack got out of bed and tripped over his covers; when he comes back on the phone, there's no missing the urgency dripping from his words. "Are you okay? What about Cloud?"
"Cloud left," she says, surprised at how calm she sounds. "He got a call and ran out. I'm—locked out of the building." The sudden quiet that is his reply makes Tifa tense. "I need to get in and—" She chokes, everything crashing down on her again. "I want to talk to you."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way." He curses and suddenly sounds far away, and she guesses he put her on speaker. "I'll be there in fifteen. I'm hanging up now, alright?"
The still noise of the city replaces Zack's voice, and Tifa hates how lonely it makes her feel. She checks Cloud's thread again; no new messages still. The next fifteen minutes feel like forever—the wind and the cold don't help, sure, but it's the suspense of not knowing what happened that eats at her and makes time drag. Tifa huddles deeper into her jacket, even if it does little good; the semblance of warmth is the only relief she can find at the moment.
She almost doesn't notice Zack jogging towards her. He comes to a stop before her and extends his hand to help her up; Tifa hesitates, and it doesn't go past him.
"I think I froze. I can't move," she says before he can speak. Her attempt at humor feels forced and unwelcome, yet she needs the illusion of normalcy.
"C'mon, get up." Zack's tone is kind, but there's a definite strain to it. This time, he bends to help pull her up. "Let's go inside."
Tifa follows him as he unlocks the door. When they get to her floor, she pauses as she realizes she has to go back to Cloud's first; something about this feels wrong, and she hates that. She hates so many things tonight—the list is never-ending, scrolling through her mind in a loop, and she keeps seeing her own blindness scrawled at the top.
The sight of Cloud's laptop and headphones and textbooks still sprawled over the coffee table and the couch is strange. It's like he didn't leave, like he just went in the bedroom for a second and will come back to study and finish that fucking assignment any time now—any time—
But of course, Cloud doesn't reappear, and she closes her eyes at her stupidity. She senses Zack walk past her and deeper into the living room; Tifa counts to ten before she opens them again and goes to sit on the couch next to him.
"What happened?"
She's never heard Zack sound so serious, and it takes her aback even when it shouldn't—the circumstances don't call for levity.
"Seph dropped by to visit," she whispers. Though she wants to sound strong, she finds her voice can't rise well enough for that; it's already difficult to articulate the words, and she lets this battle go. "He didn't tell Cloud he was coming."
"Oh." Zack rubs his cheek. "That doesn't sound good."
Words become hard to find at once, and Tifa can only shake her head in response. Her hands ball into fists in her lap; it's to hide their shaking, but the pain helps her anchor herself to reality.
"When you say Cloud got a call… Do you know what happened?"
It's the idea of verbalizing her doubts and fears that breaks the dam—Zack doesn't react when she starts crying as if he had expected it. He waits at her side, and his silence and patience make her glad she called him.
"I don't know for sure," she says once her breathing evens out. She wipes away the remaining tears with her sleeves. "But it must have to do with Seph."
Zack's expression stays impassive. "Cloud didn't let you know?"
"No." The jumping dots come back to her, an unwanted reminder. "He just ran out."
"Okay…" He runs his hands over his face; she can't ignore the exhaustion weighing his every move. "We'll see tomorrow." At her surprised look, Zack sighs. "Go to sleep, Tifa. I'll write to him, try to get some news. But beyond that…"
She swallows the spark of frustration—deep down, she's aware he's right despite not wanting him to be. Staying here is the last thing she wants, but it's the only one she can do for tonight. Tifa picks up her phone to check for new messages—nothing.
"Give him some time," Zacks says gently. "He'll write to you tomorrow."
They part a few minutes later; Zack goes back to his place in spite of her objections, and she cannot stand to sleep in Cloud's bed alone. Once Zack has left, she tidies up the apartment before turning off all the lights and heading back to hers. To her dismay, she only feels worse inside her place; the dark seems to swallow every inch of the room, every piece of her cracked heart—everything, she thinks, it swallows everything, and she hates, hates, hates it.
In the end, she leaves her bedside light on as she slips into her bed. It's in the vain hope of warding off bad dreams and disturbed sleep—she's had enough of reality and nightmares merging tonight.
She only closes her eyes once the sun rises.
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A/N: I decided to split this chapter in two for what I think is a better reading experience, so yes again, another chapter. Maybe one day I will stop adding chapters; maybe one day I will finish the damn story. One day... *stares off into the distance*.
Thank you to Kaya, Jen, Karmi, legendaryboo, Max and eternalli for the love! You can find me on twitter at sk_evans.