This is the longest chapter I've ever typed. Don't flame me...

"It looks like rain today," little Tifa mumbled.

It was cold on those stone, alley steps. Tifa hugged herself, feeling a draft. She heard someone walk up the steps, but refused to acknowledge them. Then, she felt something being wrapped around her.

"Sorry…I thought you'd need it more than me…"

Tifa looked up and saw a boy, just her age, standing over her. She scowled at him and turned away, looking at the wall. She felt the blanket that around her. The boy planted himself next to her, but she kept to the wall.

"It's mighty strange, isn't it? Looking at people…I mean."

Tifa jerked her head and stared at the boy.

"Huh?"

"Isn't it weird when you're people watching?" the boy asked. "I think so. Papa says that you can tell part of somebody's story just by looking at 'em close enough."

Tifa began to wonder if her new companion was insane.

"Like that lady down by the chocolate and candy shop…I've seen 'er once or twice…she's a mean one…I saw her bang on the glass and holler at some poor kids who were looking inside…scared them pretty bad."

Tifa looked across the street and saw a good looking young woman, smiling as she gave an old woman her chocolates.

"And that man just passing us below," he continued. "You can tell he's a drunkard…red in the face and neck…and a potbelly."

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Tifa asked harshly.

The boy stared at the moving crowd. "Nothing," he replied. "I thought you wouldn't 'ave wanted to talk about yourself so…"

"Who said I wanted to talk?" Tifa grumbled. "I don't wanna talk to nobody…especially someone like you…"

The boy looked down, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry…I just needed company…like you did…no one would talk to me in that black building over there…they say I think too much…whatever that means."

Tifa said that that was an understatement.

"Am I really thinking too much?" he asked. "Or is it that everyone thinks too little?"

"Don't give a crap," Tifa retorted. "Why are you even talking to me?"

"I already darn told ya," he replied. "I saw that ya needed company like I did."

She stared him with a funny look on her face. Yet…she felt drawn to this boy…even if he was a little odd.

"You're crazy," Tifa said.

"It's everyone else who's gone bonkers," he replied.

Tifa tried to keep a straight face.

"My older cousin thinks I'm crazy too," he continued. "She's also a mean one…always torturing the family animals in the house…she's flushed down every goldfish she had because she got sick of them…and she says I'm nuts!"

She nearly fell backwards laughing…something that hadn't happened to her in a long time.

"If you don't mind me asking," the boy said, "where's your mum and dad?"

Tifa stopped laughing, and her head sank in shame. She curled up into a ball and began to cry.

"My mom's long gone," she replied. "Died two years ago. My p…papa…my papa started drinking soon after…then…three weeks ago…he drove me to a strange building some place…and gave me to some strange man in a bright colored suit…he had a lot of women in that place...they wore some really skimpy clothes. Papa never came back…the man said he never would…and he was right too. I ran away two nights ago while he wasn't looking…I was too scared to stay…"

"Your dad left you at a brothel?" the boy asked.

"What the heck is a 'brothel'?" Tifa asked, sniffing.

"Can't say," the boy answered. "My stupid cousin told me about…and I wished she'd never of told me…I shouldn't 'ave blurted it out…"

Tifa unburied her head and smiled weakly.

"It doesn't matter anymore…but why did papa leave me there?"

The boy's eyes widened and then shrank again. He didn't have the heart to say.

"I dunno," he lied. "Maybe he was so drunk, he forgot to take you with him."

"Wouldn't he have come back though?" Tifa asked. "Why didn't he come back?"

He didn't answer. Tifa curled into her ball again.

"Are you all alone now?"

Tifa gave a resemblance of a nod.

The boy went pale. He quickly got up from the steps.

"Stay here," he commanded. "I'm going to get mum. I'm sure she'll know what to do."

The boy walked down the steps. Tifa watched helplessly as he disappeared into the streets.

"You ain't coming back," Tifa muttered. "They never come back…mama said she'd be back when she went to have that baby…she didn't come back. Uncle Sammy said he'd take me home with him…he never did. Papa said he was only leaving me there at that weird building for a little while…he lied. No one ever comes back for me…"

Tifa forced her eyes open and hissed angrily in the bed.

"Not another dream!" she yelled.

What a way to start out a Sunday.

Dear Diary,

This is the second morning that Scarlet came to the house. She's a perfect wench. I tried to be friendly with her and talk, but she looked at me as if I were white trash or something. I feel so uncomfortable around her. Everyone does. Strangely enough…even Cloud's being driven up the wall. Yesterday afternoon, Scarlet started criticizing how he wasn't married…in front of his dance class. During their break, he started yelling in fluent French in the kitchen. I don't think I want to know what he was saying.

Marlene seems to be reacting the same way. I remember how Scarlet commented on how skinny she was and that she wore strange clothes. That very night, someone put pink dye in Scarlet's shampoo, and Scarlet has been washing her hair vigorously ever since. A few minutes after we all heard Scarlet's screams, I saw Cloud scolding Marlene harshly in front Scarlet, the newly pink-haired wonder. After Scarlet left though, Cloud started laughing hysterically…

Vincent says to just ignore the lady, but if Scarlet ain't careful, she'll be asking for a punch in the face. But…it's most likely that Tifa will do it first…or Cloud. I'm not picky.

Sincerely,

Yuffie

Marlene sat in the great room with her bare feet on the couch. All over the floor and on the couch lay photo albums. She found the album she wanted and slowly went through it.

"Cloud, Shera, and Scarlet's childhood," Marlene mumbled. "The blackmail era…"

"What are you looking at?"

Tifa looked over Marlene's shoulder and saw the pictures.

"Old stuff…wanna look with me?"

Tifa shrugged her shoulders and Marlene made room for her on the couch. Tifa made herself comfortable, and Marlene flipped back to the beginning.

She pointed to a picture. It was a photo of a beautiful, platinum blonde woman sitting comfortably on a couch. Though the rest of her body was thin, her belly protruded out, clearly visible to the eye.

"That was during Christmas, when Aunt Lucrecia was eight months pregnant. Little did everyone know that she was about to give birth to the meanest thing that ever walked the planet."

"Oh," Tifa said. "Scarlet."

Marlene pointed to another picture on the page.

"And here's dad and Uncle Matt, playing chess…dad won every time…and my uncle hated that."

Marlene turned the page and found nothing interesting.

"You mind if I flip a few pages?" Marlene asked.

Tifa said that she didn't. Marlene went through four pages and found another prized photo.

"And here's Scarlet as a newborn," Marlene declared. "False advertisement, huh?"

Tifa nodded and chuckled in amusement. Marlene flipped a few more pages. Tifa noticed a picture that startled her; Shinra was there.

"Here's mom, dad, and Mr. Shinra with some people from a Taiwanese company. They're all going fishing for swordfish in Mexico. Mom said it was fun…and the fish she caught…she caught it all by herself…and they're as strong as a human…sometimes stronger."

"Mr. Shinra?" Tifa asked nervously.

"Daddy's boss?" Marlene said. "Dad worked for him in the technology business…oh! Here's a picture of a swordfish jumping in the water…daddy said they really fought them."

And there it was…a five foot long, monster of a swordfish, fighting for its life. It was dark, navy blue fish with a terrifying slate of a tail. The ocean water splashed in different directions, and the photographer had skillfully captured every detail.

"Mom took this," Marlene declared proudly. "She was a master."

"Man," Tifa said breathlessly. "That's a heck of a trip."

"That's why I envy Cloud," Marlene grumbled. "Daddy took himswordfishing when he was sixteen…and caught one too. Cloud said that the fish nearly pulled him away. Dad promised he'd take me when I turned sixteen, but…"

Marlene's smile faded and she looked at picture.

"Mom and Dad are dead now," Marlene whispered. "Died in a car accident. That's what big brother and Mr. Shinra told me."

Tifa put her hand on the child's shoulder. Marlene shook head and went on, pointing out more pictures and turning pages.

"And here are my favorites: Cloud and Shera's childhood…Hey! Cloud's naked baby pictures!"

"Ah," Tifa cooed. "What a cute baby bottom…is that a birthmark?"

"Cloud doesn't like it when people look at these photos," Marlene informed. "Don't tell him I showed them to you…he'll kill me."

Tifa didn't hear a word.

"It is a birthmark!" Tifa cried. "I can't make out the shape though."

"Yeah," Marlene grumbled. "That's why I call this album the 'blackmail era'. And he refuses to show anyone…even me…I don't see any problem in it!"

"I really don't blame him," Tifa replied. "I wouldn't show anyone either…especially when the birthmark is in a…ehem…an inconvenient place."

Marlene stared at Tifa in confusion.

"I've showed all of my friends the birthmark on my butt," she said. "It runs on Daddy's side of the family. Wanna see?"

"Let's change the subject."

Cloud suddenly sneezed while Shera was talking. A package was underneath his arm.

"Ooooooo," Shera teased. "Someone's talking about you."

"I can't believe that you actually believe that superstition," he said.

"Nah," Shera replied. "I'm just messing with you."

Cloud reached for two boxes of inside the pantry. Shera looked and became five years old again.

"Pocky sticks in the morning!" she cried. "I love those."

"With walnuts," Cloud added. "Always with walnuts."

Shera greedily snatched a box and ran into the kitchen. Cloud sat the package onto the counter.

"What are you hurrying for?" he said. "They're not going anywhere."

"You don't know that," Shera said, paranoid.

"Uncle Matthew is not here, Shera."

"I know," she whined, "but you still don't what'll happen. Doesn't Marlene like 'em too?"

"Marlene hate's chocolate now."

"Blasphemy!"

Shera hoisted herself onto the counter and sat.

"People use that for cooking, you know," Cloud commented.

"Hope they wash it," Shera answered sarcastically.

Cloud leaned on the counter next to her.

"Why did you bring that woman with you?" he asked. "If you had to come with someone, why not someone else?"

"Sorry, Cloud," Shera replied sheepishly. "Scarlet can be really forceful sometimes."

"Sometimes?!"

Shera shook her head and dug into the box.

"How is Uncle Matthew anyhow?"

"Dad?" Shera asked. "He's fine more or less…a handful to Mom though…as usual."

"That's old Uncle Matt for ya," Cloud muttered.

Shera smacked him on the back of the head. Cloud immediately rubbed his head after impact. Shera was chuckling.

"He was so cool when we were young though," Shera said. "Always telling us weird things when he can't explain something…or didn't feel comfortable explaining it."

"Oh, yeah…"

Uncle Matthew dried a small boy's head, while a young, innocent, five-year-old Shera watched. Matthew raised the towel for a moment and looked closely at the boy underneath.

"I say," Matthew said in a surprised manner. "You look more and more like Jonathan every day."

"Is that a bad thing?" Cloud asked.

The towel fell back down on Cloud's head. Shera's eyes fell at the towel wrapped around. This little girl had a question. The only challenge was how to ask it.

"Now that you're both done with your bath," Uncle Matt declared, "it's time for both of you to get into your night clothes and go to sleep."

"Um…daddy?"

"What is it, Shera darling?"

"How come I don't have one?"

Matthew looked at his daughter strangely. Shera blew on her dried out bangs and pointed at her father's crotch.

"How come I don't have one?" she asked again.

Her father's left eye began to twitch.

"Hey," Cloud chimed in. "I wanna know too…why doesn't she have one?"

Matthew stared into eyes of the two naïve children that sat before him on the bed, wrapped in towels. Their curious eyes were like needle points. It was unintentionally cruel. But then again…it could be fun.

"Well," Uncle Matthew began. "You see…because you are a girl…Shera…you're not born with one…only boys are born…with one. "

Two confused eyes glared back at him.

"How come I don't get one?" Shera asked, pouting.

"That's just the way it is, dear."

Shera glanced away, feeling left at the other end of the stick. Her father noticed and thought fast.

"Ah, don't worry, sweet-pea," he said. "As soon as you grow up…you'll grow one too."

"Really?!"

"Yup."

Shera threw up her arms in excitement. "Hooray!"

At that very moment, Mrs. Strife came bursting through the door. Her face, crimson red, made Uncle Matthew cower by the bed. He knew that is was a bad thing to make his sister angry.

"STOP TELLING THEM LIES!!!!" she shrieked.

Mrs. Strife walked quickly across the room, and Shera hid behind her cousin in defense. Mrs. Strife raised her small but powerful hand, and delivered her brother a slap in the face.

"There is such a thing as going too far," Cloud mumbled.

"Yeah," Shera retorted. "But Daddy never stopped."

Shera stuffed five Pocky stick in her mouth.

"It's been difficult to talk with Scarlet around. Sorry about that."

"Forget it," said Cloud. "We can talk right now."

Shera began to talk, still stuffing Pocky in her mouth. "About time! I'd like to know why I'm in the U.S. instead of London."

Shera reached into the box but found no Pocky. Cloud rolled his eyes and handed her his half full box and pointed to the package between them.

"I received this the day before yesterday in the mail."

Shera picked up the package and read the return address.

"It's from Mr. Shinra," Shera cooed. "How's the old man doing? Still fighting the good fight?"

"Shinra died a little over a week ago, Shera."

Shera gasped in horror. These words were unheard of. That old, yet lively man…six feet under? It was too shocking to fathom. It was a dog seeing a rainbow.

"Shinra…dead?"

Shera slid off of the counter and took a few, slow steps forward. The Pocky sticks were forgotten.

"What happened to him?" Shera whispered.

"He blew up his own office…"

"BL got him, huh?"

Cloud looked down, sullenly, and nodded.

"Scoundrels," Shera snarled. "That's what you get for fighting dirty in the good fight, though. I hope the old man isn't burning in hell for it."

The kitchen door creaked open, and Tifa stepped into the kitchen. Cloud stared at her, shocked, and then the expression on his face turned grave. Tifa tried to speak out, but her lips only trembled. Shera looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out what was going on.

Without saying a word, Tifa turned around and ran out the door. Shera kept glancing at the door, then her cousin, and then back at the door again.

"What's wrong?" Shera asked.

"Mr. Shinra was Tifa's adopted father..."

Scarlet always had a habit of sleeping late. She rolled over and groggily sat up in bed. Scarlet dragged herself out and saw her slippers on the floor. As she usually did every morning, Scarlet dug her feet into the slippers. Suddenly, she felt something slimy. She pulled one foot out and sardines came with it.

"CLOUD!"

Cid and two maids stood outside her door. They covered their mouths and laughed.

"What's going on?"

Vincent stood behind the three with a suspicious look in his eye.

"Shut up," Cid whispered quietly. "The bimbo will here ya!"

Cid took a glass in his hand, put it against the door, and put his ear to the glass. The maids and Vincent waited patiently for an answer. Cid stepped away from the door and signaled for everyone to leave. Cid headed to left, and the maids went in the opposite direction.

"What on earth was that?" Vincent asked. "I heard the woman screaming…"

"Ah, she's alright," Cid said. "I just noticed last night that the sardines had expired…so I put them to good use…the maids had nothing to do with it."

Vincent glared at him angrily.

"Vince!" Cid cried. "Lighten up! No one in the estate likes the woman. I won't be surprised if Cloud has a go at it himself. Even Marlene couldn't wait to crap on her."

Nighttime had finally come. Tifa sat alone in a bench overlooking the garden. It was chilly outside, unusually chilly for spring evening. Tifa began to regret wearing such a scantily clad shirt…but after all, she did need to be alone...and she had wanted it fast.

A jacket was gently wrapped around her.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"You'll catch a cold like that."

Cloud sat down next to her and didn't say anything more.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Tifa asked. "I would've handled it better if you had just told me immediately. You didn't have to hide it from me…"

No answer.

"I never minded it," Tifa continued. "How he always called me Miss Lockhart and made me call him Mr. Shinra in public. It…it was his way of protecting me from any further danger. I only called him 'Papa' behind closed doors..."

"There was a letter in that packet," Cloud interrupted. "It told me… not to tell anyone in your group…what happened to him. I was only to tell everyone if things got really ugly for us...he said that I could tell you…but I didn't have the heart. I think he was anticipating his death. In fact...I think he wanted to die."

Tifa smiled weakly and nodded.

"I'm sorry…"

"I know why ya didn't tell me," Tifa said. "You didn't want to see me get upset or cry. You knew it would hurt me."

Cloud awkwardly said yes.

"Well," Tifa said sassily, "I have news for you. I'm not some sad princess who has to be shielded from everything. I'm not a little kid."

Tifa got up from the bench and looked up at the sky.

"And I'm gonna keep my chin up!" she said. "Papa wouldn't want me to wallow in it. Not now, not ever."

Tifa felt a hand on her shoulder.

"There was more to the letter he wrote."

"Let me guess," Tifa replied. "He wants you to take care of me when all of this crap is over with. Watch out for me."

"Yes…but I only do that if you want me to. I can only follow Shinra's orders so far…"

Tifa walked forward, deeper into the garden. The stroll became sly and calculating. She swerved around, with a conniving look on her face.

"I'll let you do it on two conditions," she said.

"And?"

Tifa quickly walked back and pointed straight into his face.

"No more secrets!" she scolded. "No more hiding things! You can't keep me in the dark anymore…I hate being kept in the dark!"

"Oui, mademoiselle…and the second condition?"

Tifa held her chin. Her eyes darted across his face, making him feel nervous. Finally, making her decision, Tifa stepped dangerously close to Cloud, closed her eyes, and puckered her lips.

"Uh…Tifa, what are you doing?"

"I feel like being kissed, dumbbutt," she retorted.

"You must be joking," Cloud said.

"I'm not," Tifa replied in a familiar tone. "Kiss me."

"You're trying to pay me back for that cheesecake thing, aren't you?"

Tifa managed to get a good hold of Cloud before he could back away.

"Oh," she cooed innocently, in a British tone. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Tifa…no…"

"Wimp," Tifa crooned.

"Absolutely not."

"Baby."

"I said no!"

"I dare you," she said, also in a British tone.

Cloud stared at Tifa, stunned beyond belief. Tifa only smiled triumphantly. Defeated, Cloud looked towards the house to see if anyone was coming. He looked back to Tifa, who already closed her eyes and puckered up. Sighing, Cloud slowly leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

"Hey, it is nice night outside…"

Cloud and Tifa stopped too late. Cid halted, with Heather behind him. They stared in disbelief. Cloud opened his mouth to say something…but nothing came out.

Phew! It took me three whole days to type this thing...

If you were offended by anything I said in this chapter, I humbly apologize.