AN: Normally these are at the bottom, but I just wanted to remind everyone that the rating of this story HAS gone up. For reasons. I will not be putting disclaimers on every chapter, but just know that there will be violence and mature content in the coming chapters. Thank you. :)
Splintered Dreams
"Shatter"
Chapter 37
The buggy was repaired, packed and ready when Zack, Tifa and Nanaki returned to the bonfire. There was now a crowd surrounding the fire—known as the Cosmo Candle, Nanaki informed them—and dancers wearing elaborate costumes spun and swayed around the flames to the rhythmic thumping of drums.
Aerith stood as they approached, brushed her hands on her thighs. "This celebration is really something," she said, gesturing to the fire and crowd of people around them. "Your tribe is amazing," she told Nanaki.
"Yes," he agreed, with evident pride. "They are." He paused, cocked his head. "I see you have been marked."
Zack took a closer look at Aerith and noticed some beads braided into her hair and three lines painted on her right cheek. "One of the elders painted them," she explained, touching them lightly.
"You wear the symbols well," Nanki stated. "The three lines are representative of wisdom, heart, and spirit. With all three a warrior is unbeatable."
"Oh." Aerith's eyes widened and her smile bloomed. "He didn't say..."
"What does mine mean?" Yuffie asked, hopping from the dancing fray to join them. She leaned down into Nanaki's face and pointed to the circular marking on her forehead. One side had two squiggled diagonal slashes while the other was partially open.
"Squawker."
Zack coughed into his hand.
"What?" Yuffie blinked.
"It is the symbol of unwanted noise." Nanaki clarified in the same factual tone.
"You're making that up," Yuffie accused, stamping her foot and looking mighty petulant. "I bet it means beautiful or clever. I am the White Rose of Wutai, so maybe it means regal." She poked her tongue out at Nanaki, glowered at the others.
"Hate to bust up the fun, but it's obvious that Sephiroth and Shin-ra ain't here, so we need to get movin'," Barret commented, arms folded over his chest. "Being still too long isn't a good idea."
He was right, Zack knew. He glanced at Tifa who had been very quiet on the walk back through the caves. Her eyes were still slightly red-rimmed from her crying, but otherwise she appeared much her normal self.
Which, he supposed, was why he worried. She had a really bad habit of boxing up her emotions and shutting herself off. It was effective for coping, he understood, but things could only be bottled for so long before they exploded all over the place.
She crouched beside Nanaki and placed a hand on his head. "This celebration is for you. What would you like to do?"
Nanaki nuzzled her palm, made his familiar chuff. "I appreciate your concern, but Barret is right. I promised my grandfather that I would help you succeed in your mission to help save this planet, and I intend to do just that. I will come back only then with my head high and take my place as tribe protector and Seto's noble son."
"All right," she agreed, standing. "Let's go."
"Great, good plan," Cait pounced onto Nanaki's back. "But, uh, where?"
"Good question." Aerith said her green eyes expectant as she turned to Zack. "Where are we going?"
"We need something solid. We've been chasing our godsdamn tails too long," Barret grumbled. He rubbed his palm beneath his chin and swore some more. "We don't have a fuckin' clue what this Sephiroth guy is up to or after or anything. We need some damn answers."
Zack took a heavy breath and glanced over at Tifa. "I think I know of a place we can get some," he said, finally—reluctantly. He had never wanted to go back to that place again...never wanted to think about it, but it was unavoidable now.
Barret was right, they needed answers.
Tifa looked up at him and he watched realization bloom in her eyes. Her lashes came down and veiled whatever emotion she felt. "We're going to Nibleheim, aren't we?"
He nodded, but since she wasn't looking, he added, "Yes."
"All right." She turned away, her shoulders drawn up tight—defensive. "We'd better get moving." Stiff, her steps led her to the buggy.
Zack watched her walk away with a feeling of dread in his gut. There was more he needed to say, to tell her—that she needed to know—but he found his tongue too thick in his mouth and his words halted behind his teeth. She should be prepared, he thought, watching her climb through the hatch. She should know that what they would find...he couldn't explain, but it wasn't the burnt remains of her village. She should know...and yet he couldn't find the words.
Coward.
"Let's roll," Barret shouted.
Tifa watched the scenery pass by with unseeing eyes, her forehead pressed to the glass window, her fingers clenching and unclenching in her lap. It only made sense, she told herself, for them to check Nibleheim for clues. It was the place Sephiroth first went mad...maybe there was something buried beneath the ash that could lead them to where he was, or at least give them an idea of what he was planning.
She could do this, she told herself. She could face the ruins of her home and sift through her past if that meant saving the future. For Marlene, for her friends, for Zack. She had to keep it simple in her head, or it became overwhelming and painful. Resolutely she firmed her resolve, staunched the flow of painful memories that threatened to engulf her. She wouldn't waste time reminiscing about her long dead past, she had a job to do. She was strong enough to face this. She was.
She closed her eyes.
She had to be.
Dawn was encroaching on the horizon when Zack spotted the outline of Mt. Nibel and plumes of smoke puffing over the horizon. His heart kicked in his chest and he slanted a look over his shoulder to where Tifa sat, her gaze out the window.
Her eyes were distant, her face pale. She looked forlorn and lost and altogether too fragile. What are you thinking? He wondered. He wanted to grab her and hold her and protect her, because he knew what was coming, and he was still uncertain of the words to warn her.
The interior of the buggy had been silent for most of the journey, as if even the others could sense the wrongness about what they were heading to. Zack frowned as he downshifted, hands tight on the steering wheel, wishing, for once, for Yuffie's insistent chatter or Barret's gruff grumbling. Anything to alleviate the swamping tension coiling around him.
"Hey, I can see houses!" Yuffie chirped suddenly, her face close to his and her voice directly in his ear.
Okay, Zack corrected, maybe not Yuffie.
Behind him, Zack felt Tifa stir. She sat up in her seat, a frown on her face.
Houses? Tifa peered out of the buggy and saw the outline of cottages coming into view. The beat of her heart stuttered, picked up too fast. Not just houses, but familiar houses. Her hands knotted against her chest, pain making her breath wheeze out of her because there, in the center courtyard, was a rickety windmill that she had watched tumble to the ground four years ago.
Immediately her eyes swung to the right and she bit her lip to keep from making a sound. Her house...her home...
It had been ages since she had been anywhere near Nibleheim and she had nearly forgotten how beautiful it was. Although, in truth, only a span of years had passed since she had actually been here, it felt like a lifetime since she had been in the place she had called home for so long. She stared at the village, momentarily entranced by it's untarnished appearance.
Zack parked the buggy just outside the center courtyard. Tifa barely waited for it to stop moving before she was shoving her way out the hatch and into the dream that wasn't a dream. Her chest rose and fell sharply with each ragged breath as she looked around, the ground tilting dangerously beneath her feet and blood rushing through her ears.
Nibleheim was alive.
It couldn't be, and yet it was.
Her heart ached and felt like a heavy ball in her chest as she stared across the expansive courtyard toward the creaking windmill and stonewalls.
Early risers strolled the cobblestone walkways and a dog barked somewhere in the distance.
She could smell fresh bread and hear the hum of everyday conversations all around her.
A man in a grey coat tipped his hat to her as he passed.
"Tifa..." She swung around and her eyes found Zack behind her, his own dark and pleading.
It was his utter lack of surprise that she found the most disturbing, and the cold fingers of doubt and fear curled around her heart. "You knew?" she breathed.
In his chest, Zack's heart stopped. He'd seen her eyes broken and lost and scared, he'd seen her pull herself up by grit and determination alone, he had witnessed Tifa Lockhart brave the most vile evil on the planet and live to tell the tale, but what he'd never seen was bright crimson sparkling with betrayal.
It was on her face now, and in the shimmering shades of her eyes.
"Tifa," he reached for her, wincing when she recoiled.
"You knew." No question now, but certainty bathed in disgust. She shook her head and looked away from him, but not before he saw the tears.
"Tifa, please."
"I can't..."
Zack's throat closed, the fist around his heart squeezing until it hurt to breathe. He reached for her again, shackled her wrist. She looked up at him and he felt his stomach turn over. The swirling depths of betrayal and anguish mauled his heart and gut until his fingers trembled against her skin.
"I'm sorry," he ground out, eyes stinging. So fucking sorry.
Gently, but firmly, she removed herself from his grip. "So am I," she whispered.
"I thought you said this place burnt to the ground? What the hell is going on?" Barret asked as he emerged from the vehicle, cutting off anything Zack might have said. Not that it mattered, Zack supposed, he had no words to give her.
"The people here..." Aerith frowned, placed her hand to her head. "Don't belong. It's strange...I can't describe it." She looked up. "It feels wrong."
It was wrong, Zack agreed. Every fucking bit of it was wrong.
"So what now?" Yuffie wanted to know, crowding between Barret and Aerith. "Start questioning people? Snooping? Shopping? What're we doing?"
"You," Barret pointed his finger, "are shuttin' up." He walked up to Tifa, frowned down at her. "Teef?" He rubbed his big hand against the side of her head, smoothing her hair. "You all right?"
She nodded, but couldn't look at him. "Don't worry," she said in a voice that sounded like a stranger's. "I'm fine. Let's start with questions," she stated, putting some distance between herself and the others. Push it down, she told herself. Keep focused. "You guys start at the inn." She began walking away. Towards familiar green shutters and pretty front porch with fog clouding her mind and a welcome numbness taking over her body.
"Tifa, wait, where are you going?" Aerith called. "Zack?"
Swallowing, he shook his head. "Give her time."
To his surprise Barret turned on him. "Last thing she needs right now is to be alone. I don't know what happened to her here, but you seem to. If you did something, then you'd better make it right, Princess. Now." There was genuine threat in the other man's eyes and anyone else may have been intimidated, but Zack shrugged Barret's gruffness off.
He was concerned for Tifa.
With reason.
Zack watched her climb the steps to a house he dimly remembered...shit! "Tifa, wait!" He sprinted after her.
She didn't bother knocking.
Why would she? This was her home.
Hello, pumpkin. Your home late.
Hi, Daddy.
How were the trails?
I made a new one today...
Close the door, baby. It's getting cold...
All right, Dad. Sorry.
"May I help you?"
Tifa blinked at the woman standing in front of her. She was older, maybe late thirties, early forties with blond hair and kind blue eyes. She was holding a book in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
"Get out." It was hissed through clenched teeth.
"Ex-excuse me?" The woman took a step back, eyes widening in alarm.
Tifa took a step forward, jaw tight. "Get out of my house."
"This is my house," the woman stammered.
"Liar."
The door opened behind her, but she didn't turn.
"Tifa." Zack placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Don't," she shoved away from him, staggered a bit and braced herself against the wall, breathing heavy. She looked so damn lost.
The woman beseeched him. "Sir, please take your friend and leave. My husband will be home any minute. I don't want any trouble."
"You're a liar. You don't belong here!"
It was in the vehemence of her speech that Zack heard it. Faint and lilting, an accent that none of the people here carried. In her anger it became more pronounced, and although her years in Midgar had weakened it, it was still there. Blooming in misery and rage. The sole survivor of Nibleheim and the only person that truly belonged here.
Taking a breath, Zack turned to the woman in the foyer. He looked her square in the face so she could see the swirling green tint in his eyes. "Look, we both know you don't belong here, and that this house is as much yours as it is mine. I'm asking you nicely to give us some time and we'll be out of your hair. Keep in mind though, that I won't ask nicely again."
She glanced between the two of them, then to the sword on his back. "They don't pay me enough for this shit," she muttered. She set her things on a small table at the foot of the stairs. "Don't take long. I wasn't kidding, my husband will be back soon."
Zack nodded. He waited until she walked out the front door before moving to stand in front of Tifa. "I can't imagine what this is like for you," he whispered. He lifted his hand, but drew it back, uncertain. "This was your house, right?"
Looking past him, over his shoulder, she nodded.
"I...Do you want to look around?" He had no idea what to say, what to do. He just wanted to wipe that look off her face.
Without a word she strode by him, up the stairs. At a loss to do anything else, he followed.
The walls were painted the wrong color, she thought when she reached the top of the stairs. They weren't supposed to be this muted brown color, but they were supposed to be pale blue—like springtime.
Her father had indulged her choice in colors, because it was something she got from her mother, he said.
Her fingertips trailed along the smooth texture. The patched up hole in the wall beside the bathroom door was gone. She remembered her father frowning and then laughing at her being a little too eager to demonstrate what Zangan was teaching her.
The outside of the house was exactly—exactly—how she remembered it, right down to the flower pots on the railing, but in here...
"It's all wrong," she whispered. The bathroom was pale yellow when it should have been shades of orange, there was no lanterns hanging on the wall, and her bedroom door was white when it should have been wood.
She stopped outside that door, took a slow, even breath. She squared her shoulders and forced herself to push open the door.
The shiny gleam of a well kept piano greeted her.
"Oh." Was all she managed before her knees gave out. She sank to the floor, holding her head.
Gone. She knew, in her heart, that Nibleheim was gone. That it had burnt years ago, but seeing that glossy black sitting where slightly crooked and handmade should have been made it all too real. She'd never felt so hollow before.
She looked around the room and saw lavender walls and pretty pastel flowers. A daybed and lace curtains. Bookshelves and neat knick-knacks. No punching bag, no worn out journals, no rolled up sheets of music. No markings on the door frame to show how much she'd grown. Getting so I can't keep up with you, pumpkin...
"Damn you." She rocked forward, her fist hitting the polished hardwood. "I hate you," she whispered in savage bites. "Hate you." She panted and forcibly swallowed the scream building in her throat. "Give it back," she demanded. "I want them back. I want it all back." She pressed her forehead to the floor, shuddered. "Please...I'll do anything...please..."
Zack didn't think his heart could break anymore than it had, but seeing her stumble and fall tore him apart. He didn't know what to do with himself. Rage seeped though his pores, colored his eyes phosphorous green. He wanted to go back to Midgar and tear apart the Shin-Ra tower; find and hurt everyone in it. Everyone.
"Zack" she whispered, peering up at him through the strands of hair shielding her. "I don't want that...Just..." she pushed up. "Just be Zack, okay?"
He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. He tried—forcibly tried—to quell his anger. She didn't need violence right now. She needed him and for Zack that was more than enough motivation to soothe instead of seethe.
He dropped down in front of her, pulled her—stiff at first—into his arms. He rocked her slowly. "I'm sorry," he said, lips in her hair. "Forgive me, Tifa, I'm so sorry. I should have told you."
Her harsh breaths brushed his pulse, her fingernails biting his arms. "Why?" she asked.
Zack bowed his head over hers, eyes shut. "I didn't know how..." It was no excuse, but it was what he had. He stroked his hands through her hair, tilted her face up to his so she could see the sincerity in his gaze."I'll understand if you hate me, but can you ever forgive me?"
She shook her head and for a minute his world crashed.
"There's nothing to forgive, Zack," she touched his face. "You made a mistake. Yes, I'm mad that you didn't tell me, but that doesn't change how I feel about you."
"I am sorry," he whispered, turning his head to press his lips to her palm.
"I know." She leaned her head into his shoulder. After a long minute, she said, "I'm still mad."
"I know."
"Zack?"
"Yeah?"
"Can we go now?" her voice broke. "I don't belong here anymore."
"Okay." He helped her to her feet, kept her hand in his as they walked out of the room and closed the door—and her past—behind them.
The woman of the house met them at the bottom of the stairs. They moved to go by her when she asked, "Are you Tifa Lockhart?"
They stopped; turned.
She held out an envelope. "This is yours."
"What is it?" Tifa asked, making no move to take the letter.
"Don't know. Found it when we moved into the house. Upstairs in the sheet music."
"And you kept it?" Zack raised a dubious brow.
She shrugged. "Wasn't given any instructions on what to do with it."
"Instructions?" Tifa took the letter.
"I really have said too much already." She picked up her discarded book and water. "You can show yourselves out, I assume," she nodded toward the door and left them.
Outside, on the porch, Tifa broke the seal of the letter. The writing was shaky, but familiar.
Tifa,
What has happened to this town? Was it all a dream? A horrible illusion? No, it can't be. I remember too well the flames and the burning and the rage. Trying to get all the people out and not having the strength.
I went to the reactor to find Sephiroth, but he was nowhere to be found when I arrived. Instead, I found you. So badly wounded. I felt saving you was more important than vengeance. There were others alive inside, but I was only strong enough and able enough to save one. It haunts me to this day that I left those boys.
Shin-Ra troopers were arriving as we were leaving or I would have gone back, you must believe me. But I heard them say to retrieve anyone alive for experiments, and I just couldn't let that happen to you. So I fled.
I took you to Midgar, even though I hate the city, but my Cure spells weren't working. You were dying, and I was weakening. I left you with a doctor I could trust because, as you know, I can't settle for too long. I worry about you, though. I hope you recovered. I checked once but you were gone and no one knew where to find you.
I came back here for closure, only to find the village alive with people and bustling with activity. Imagine my astonishment at that. The town reeks of Shin-Ra. I hear the whispers and I see the patrols and all the sick ones in black cloaks.
I'm leaving this letter here in hopes that if you ever return you will find it.
I may seem cowardly for not going after Shin-Ra, but I am too old and too worn. It feels like my time has run out. I only hope that you continue to sharpen your skills and have kept that wonderful heart of yours.
You are forever my most precious student.
Master Zangan.
With a shaky breath, Tifa folded the letter. She'd thought of Zangan often over the years, but it touched her, deeply, to know that he'd thought of her too. She smiled a soft smile and tucked the letter into her back pocket.
Zack looked at her expectantly when she finished reading.
"Master Zangan," she said. "Left me a letter." She paused, struck by something in the letter, so she pulled it out again and scanned the lines. "Zack..."
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"Zangan says that the town was crawling with Shin-Ra...and sick men in black cloaks." She glanced over her shoulder into the courtyard. "If they're here, then we need to find them and get some answers."
"Agreed." He nodded.
"We have to go to the Shin-Ra mansion."
He nodded again, but seemed paler to her. "I know." He jumped down from the porch, walked backwards. "So, we'd better find the others and get moving. Don't wanna be in that spooky place come nightfall," he joked, but it was weak.
Tifa jogged down the steps, grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "It's okay. You're not the only one afraid."
"Who said I was afraid?" he scoffed.
"Zack."
"Stop fretting, Tifa. I'm fine. I can deal." He grinned at her, bent down and brushed her lips with his. "Especially now that I know you don't hate me." He bumped noses with her. "I'm cool. Tough guy, remember?"
"Zack, stop it." She grabbed his chin, held him still. "We will not lie to each other."
He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against hers, exhaled. "It has to be done." he said. "No matter how I feel about it."
They had to search the mansion. If anything was left to find, it would be there. It didn't mean he had to like it, but he'd damn well suck it up. He opened his eyes, gave her a reassuring smile. "Come on, let's go."
When he turned, she kept her hand in his. She'd be damned if she let him face this alone.
AN: I enjoyed writing this chapter. Feeling more like myself and back into the Zack/Tifa swing of things. THANK YOU to all of my readers, especially the ones that stick with me through writer's block and lame transitions. LOVE you guys! As always I appreciate you reading and I thank those of you that take the time to review. I can't tell you how much that helps keep me motivated. More Nibleheim and Sephiroth coming up.