Month 02 – Day 04 – Saturday

To begin with, it was all Denzel's bright idea. He suggested one fine morning that it would be rather cool if he learned how to fight like Cloud. Tifa listened patiently as any mother would at the elaborate explanation of why hand to hand combat was vastly important to the boy. But once he finished with a satisfied sigh she merely replied by saying that maybe when he was older, they would teach them. But as if on cue, Marlene came strolling quietly into the kitchen with a childish smile plastered on her face.

She began at first saying that breakfast was nice this morning but instantly, Tifa knew she was up to no good. It wasn't much later when Cloud returned home did they never hear the end of the constant question of 'pretty please, teach us how to fight.'

And so here they stood in the middle of the empty church facing each other ready to show the kids a thing or two. The kids sat quietly at one corner of the church, their eyes glancing from one warrior to another.

His smile was boyish as it sat perfectly still against his shy timid face. Locks of blonde hair didn't even move when his hand came up in front of him to pose a position of the great Hero of Midgar. But admits his triumphant stand, his bodily expression represented a quiet uncomfortable feeling without his extraordinarily large sword in his hand. His nose twinkled lightly before his eyes fell on her.

She stood with elegant grace as she comfortably covered her hands with those trust worthy gloves. She always wore those when she fought; he presumed it had something to do with not wanting to damage her hands. They were the most delicate he had ever seen, and touching her hands did things to his heart he just couldn't explain.

She turned to him once her gloves were securely fastened and threw a rather gentle gaze. She seem to be mildly unaffected by what they were going to do in the next few minutes. But for him, he couldn't help but feel uneasy about the whole affair that was going to unfold between them.

Denzel gave the word and instantly they lashed at each other. The first hit was simple, she swung her hand from the top to try and tackle his head, but he was quick enough to block it. He saw an opening for a severe hit to her body, but with every might and ego within his soul, he couldn't bring himself to lay one finger on her. And so with every hit she made he would block and every opportunity he had, he would close one eye and let it pass.

She didn't notice it at first with all her smirks and smiling; but after he let her hit him severely on the chest she appeared to be taken aback. Her grin disappeared and instead a concerned expression grew upon her face. He shrugged lightly and motioned for them to continue.

He fought easily to let her hit him several times, but it wasn't until she captured him by the head did she whisper, "Why are you holding back?"

He didn't answer her but instead pulled himself out of her hands and began blocking every attack she made again. She was a tough fighter in his eyes as each strike of her fist came in contact with his battered and bruised chest. He didn't mind taking the pain and letting the kids cheer for her. But he knew he would have a quiet lecture later on in the night.

But really, he didn't want to hurt her. He knew what he was capable of, and he knew how easy it was to kill. He knew every weak spot she had and he knew he could easily get to her, but she wasn't an enemy, and no, she could never be an enemy. And so that's why he let her throw him on his back and toss him around the room. Even though his back was bruised and his chest was burning, he still let her do what the kids were cheering for. Besides, he had been battered and bruised many times, a little fight wasn't going to kill him.

But as she threw him across the room he had a sudden boyish thought. He thought it would be rather funny if he caught her off guard and captured her in his arms. He knew it would take a while to actually pull off his stunt, but with great determination he knew he could do it without hurting her at all.

So with her fast kicks and dangerous punches, he watched slowly, studying the pattern that she followed. It took him a while to get it right, but when the time was right he captured one arm that flew past his head and he twirled it to her back. Then her other hand came, to grab his neck but he took it easily and pressed it to his body by hugging her tightly. Then with a smile on her face she lifted her leg, and was about to pull him down when his free hand captured it and pressed it to his side.

On the whole as he felt her tired breath against his nose, he thought he pulled it off rather well. He hadn't hurt her in anyway way and she was perfectly captured within his arms. But after realizing the position they were actually in, he blushed lightly and looked into her eyes. It was, to put it rather smugly, a not very humane sort of way of getting her. It was, rather a move that children's eyes shouldn't really be in the presence off.

He can feel her breath against his lips, and her nose barely touching his. Their lips are inches apart, and he's panting loudly. His chest is wheezing in and out as his air deprived lungs are suddenly filled with holy air. His arm is holding her waist against him gently, and despite their flustered faces, the kids are still staring intently at what happens next.

He felt lost in the moment by that look on her face that he didn't notice her move under his arm. She whispered quickly at his ear, "Very Tacky," before throwing herself off of him.

He felt her arm curling around his back and felt the whoosh of air glide against his skin as he was swung across the church. The landing was alright, but the standing up was what hurt the most. He swore quietly under his breath as he came to a rather slow stand. The bones in his spine cracked a little, and as he peered up toward the martial artist standing several feet away, all he could do was smirk slightly at the irony.

She beamed a smile at him and a somewhat concerned gaze as he noted quietly to himself.

Yes, he defeated Sephiroth, and yes he saved the world several times, but battling with Tifa, now that was a completely different battle altogether.

The night was gloomy as he glazed his eyes over the darkened horizon. The stars seem to shimmer as he pressed his fingers against the bruises forming on his back. He winced a little when he peered down at his naked chest. It was blue in some areas and yellow in others. But thankfully, nothing was broken.

He rubbed a little bit of ointment on his chest, the smell filling his lungs as he continued to aid his battered chest. It wasn't until she entered his room did he blush a little at his nakedness. But even then she made no sign of discomfort as she asked him whether he was okay.

"I'm okay," he said to her as he leaned against the window sill.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," she said softly as she came to stand beside him.

He didn't look at her but he muttered quietly, "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Yeah but look at you now," she told him as she took the ointment sitting on his bed and began rubbing it across his back.

He sighed a little as her fingers massaged his back, it felt good as she massaged away the painful feeling of bruises. He thought quietly in the moment about how accepting this woman really was. She had lived several years tending this bar and even yet when he chased a dream and a forgiveness, she still waited for him with that trusted room put aside for him and his clothes she would fold and keep neatly in his cupboard. It was exactly how it was when he came back to the house that night after the battle with Kadaj.

It was a little bit messy, but his bed was neatly packed and his cupboard was clean without dust. He wondered how she ever took the time to tend for the bar and look after Denzel and at the same time clean his room. But he quietly thanked her as she stood behind him humming a quiet song. He thanked her for always being here for him, and always being everything he never understood before.

"Thank you," he whispered quietly.

Her hands came to a stop and she seemed to be twirling the cap back onto the ointment. He waited quietly for her to say something but when she didn't he turned around. She looked to him with glazed eyes as she asked politely, "Do you still think of her?"

He looked to her then to the floor, then to the window. "Sometimes," he answered.

Her silence seem to discomfort him as he stood with eyes gazing over the cars that passed by their bar. He wondered quietly what was running through her mind right then, whether she was thinking of him, or the Cetra. But when she sighed quietly he readied himself for a genuine explanation. She did after all, deserve that.

"Tifa," he began and turned around.

"Do you love her?" she asked instantly, and then she gasped and threw a hand to her mouth. "I mean-"

"No," he said. "Why would you think that?"

He felt a little bit taken a back in that moment was that what she was thinking all along? Maybe that was why she was always angry with him. All those looks she gave him, those glances she made to him. Was that why she was always so angry to see him? Was that why she said what she said to him that night when they were told that Denzel and Marlene were gone?

Her expression was slightly confused as she peered to him with questioning eyes. "But, what about Golden saucer?"

"With Aerith?"

"And your guilt," she added.

Had she thought he was chasing that Cetra because he loved her? She was all wrong, no, he didn't love her, not like that. Aerith was a responsibility, not a crush, not a lover, not a girlfriend. No, she was never like that to him in his eyes. Aerith was something else, his mission, his goal. He vowed to protect her not because he loved her, but because she was his best friend's girl.

"Tifa, I never loved her in that way that you're implying," he explained.

"Oh..." her expression was flawless and filled with total disbelief.