Chibi: Ah, Five.

The pairing of this story is Cloud&Tifa. Be not alarmed if it seems to be going in another direction.

Enjoy!

Five

If there was one thing that had been preying on my mind for the majority of my life, it was my virginity.

Virginity means different things to different people. It can mean chastity, or purity, self control. It can simply be something you want to be rid of. If you look the word up in a dictionary, you will most likely find a definition along these lines: the state of being pure, unsullied, or untouched.

To me, virginity had always meant curiosity. When I was seven years old, most likely not long after he himself found out about it, Zack sat me down in my room and explained to me the mystery of my creation. Like many young children, I was fascinated. I know of many people who, upon the veil of mystery being lifted from sex, were disgusted and horrified, but I was simply curious. In fact, it sounded like good fun. It was new, thrilling, and unchartered territory. Not even Zack had experienced it, and he was over three years older than me.

I managed to keep my curiosity quiet for a while, around a year, perhaps, but on hearing the word "condom" in a song Zack had brought home from the school playground, I asked my mother what this item related to sex was. It was my eighth Christmas. I remember very clearly her face, a mask of pure shock, and saw the knife which she had been using to cut the ham shake in her hand. We had guests round for dinner that Christmas, and the silence that enveloped the table, no, the entire room, was ironically deafening. It was broken by a snigger from Zack, who was shaking with stifled laughter, and my father gently told me that we'd "talk about it later".

When we were fourteen years old, as I have already said, Yuffie lost her virginity to Reno. That day when she bounded into school, her face glowing with excitement and pride, my world was divided suddenly. I began to split people into two groups: those who had lost their virginity, and those who hadn't. In my opinion, those who had lost their virginity were of an elite club, and were more knowledgeable about the ways of the world. I longed to rise from my social sphere branded chaste, and experience this activity that people seemed to rave about.

There's a story, a fairytale, that my mother used to read to me from her enormous, beautifully illustrated book that her mother had passed down to her. You've probably heard of it. In the book my family had, it was called "The Princess' Golden Ball". This story involved a princess, the youngest of all her siblings and her father's favourite, who owned a very precious golden ball. The illustration of the ball was one of an ethereal, shimmering sphere that the princess held tight in her creamy, unlined hand. One day, playing outside by the pond, she tripped, and the ball slipped out of her hands and down into the dank, dark depths of the pond. After weeping very girlishly for a while, the princess was joined on the rock she was sat upon by a fat, ugly frog, who promised to fetch the ball for her if she would bestow on him a kiss. To my horror, the princess tricked him by agreeing to the bargain, taking the ball once he had retrieved it and running back to the castle, leaving the poor frog with his lips puckered and ready.

Of course, the frog was not about to let the princess get away with this trickery, and so the frog hopped to the palace doors at nightfall, when everyone was enjoying a big meal, and demanded to speak to the king. He told the princess' father of her trickery and, needless to say, the king was exceedingly disappointed. He commanded the princess to fulfil her side of the bargain, and so, in front of the entire court, her family and friends, the princess was reduced to picking the frog up off of the floor, and kissing his warty, slimy cheek.

Magically, there was a blinding flash of light, and when everyone could see again, they saw a handsome prince standing in the place of the frog. Rather disappointingly, in my opinion, the prince did not scorn the princess for judging him by his appearance, but returned the love she felt, and they married and lived happily ever after, with the princess vowing to never judge someone by their appearance ever again.

In truth, I found this story a bit wet. The princess sounded like your average, damsel-in-distress, pathetic screaming girl, but I connected with this story. Firstly, the king's disappointment in his daughter, and the humiliation he subjected her to, was something I knew I would find if my father ever discovered I had lost my virginity. But I knew I wouldn't just find it in my father, but also in Zack, my mother's memory after she had passed, and in myself. Disappointment was something I feared greatly, and I knew that if I had done as Yuffie had done, and lost my virginity at the tender age of thirteen, I would live with that regret and disappointment for the rest of my life. I have a tendency to care what other people think of me, and although many people will tell you in your life that others' opinion of you is meaningless, it does mean something, and can affect you and your life's course in so many different ways.

The second point of connection I shared with this story was the ball. It looked so precious, so beautiful, that the act of the princess losing it to the pond made me sad. One of the illustrations from the book has always stuck in my mind, and it was one that depicted the princess losing her precious ball. It was slipping just out of her reach, just gracing her fingertips, and she looked upset and frightened.

That picture meant virginity to me. I guess it's ironic, as it's a picture from a child's storybook, carrying an important moral message. But since my discovering of sex, and the reading of the story, my short, chubby fingers tracing the glittering fragility that was the princess' greatest and most loved possession; I always saw that golden sphere as virginity, and the sad, frightened princess as the girl who lost it too early.

Of course, I wasn't about to tell Yuffie that. To her, virginity was just another milestone to pass on the journey to becoming an adult as fast as possible, whilst having as much fun as she could along the way. So for the next two years of my life, my best friend niggled and whined at me to rid myself of my own symbol of childishness.

"I want to be able to talk about sex with someone," she would moan. "It's really not that big a deal. It doesn't even hurt much. Just do it, come on."

I would be lying until my tongue turned black if I claimed I wanted to save myself. My eagerness and curiosity had been conceived by Zack's sniggering, childish explanations, and later pushed further by Yuffie's elaborate (and most likely exaggerated) tales. I wanted to experience it myself.

Which is why, when Yuffie announced that she was hosting a house party that Friday night, whilst her parents were out of town visiting her grandmother, the first thought that squirmed into my head was not what I was going to wear, or if I would wear my hair up or down, but if this would finally be my chance to lose my virginity to a suitable boy of my choice.

We were all invited – Zack, Aerith, myself…even Cloud. Kadaj and his friends had some "business" to attend to, as Yuffie put it, so it was okay for Cloud to be present without a fight erupting. I knew immediately that the party was going to be, in a word, messy, as Yuffie's house parties always were, but I wanted to have some fun for the weekend, after the stresses of the last few days. So, instead of declining Yuffie's texted invite, I replied with a See you there,checked with the others that they were up for going, and jumped into the shower before anyone else could get in there and use up the hot water.

I like parties. I know everyone does, and normally I am the shy sort of person who would be reluctant to get involved in that kind of scene, but when you have a friend like Yuffie, who adores music and dancing, drinking and kissing and more; or a brother like Zack, famous for the incredible amount of alcohol he could ingest and his notorious, raucous behaviour, you tended to just go along with what they did. I tried so often in my younger years to mimic them, which usually ended up with me vomiting into someone's toilet, whilst one of them held my hair.

But believe it or not, I enjoy the general atmosphere that parties tend to have, the way that anything goes, the drunken conversations and antics, the way you can just stand amid a hundred dancing, gyrating and sweat drenched people, and stare at the ceiling, whilst everyone moves around you in almost perfect synchronicity, moving like the tide and pulling you in deeper to its loud and heated depths.

I decided to go on ahead to the party alone. Call me shallow, but it can sometimes be a bit awkward turning up to a party with your brother, especially if he arrives with his girlfriend who is a thousand times prettier than you, and his handsome friend that makes you blush every time you go near him, regardless of how well you know him. I stepped out of the front door into the crisp, evening air and I guess there was something in that air, because even though it was a mild evening and it was only seven o'clock, I felt cold. Not cold cold, but cool enough for goosebumps to prickle on my arms and legs. I paused, closing the door gently and stepping slowly off the porch in my jewelled sandals. The wind passed. I shrugged on my cream cardigan over my soft blue dress and made my way to Yuffie's house.

The party was exactly as I had predicted. It was messy. Upon stepping through the front door, I could see vomit, empty and half full discarded bottles, people kissing, people unconscious, mad, manic dancing, broken glass, open CD cases, overflowing ashtrays, cigarette ash that missed the dish and had landed on the cream carpet, mobile phones scattered across various surfaces…I stood shocked for a moment, until I felt Yuffie's skinny arms wrapping tightly around my neck, and the push of a glass into my hand.

"Mojito," she shouted over the noise. "Made it especially for you. I put in a special ingredient." She winked, and then sauntered off with a tray of shot glasses filled with a sickly looking green spirit that seemed suspiciously like absinthe to me. She disappeared into the throng of people that were moving violently and drunkenly in the lounge.

It was exactly what you would expect a teenaged house party to be like, minus a swimming pool and plus more sex than you could imagine. I found myself tripping over numerous pairs of shoes, a girl I didn't know on all fours vomiting into a wastepaper bin, staggering through the multitudes, desperately seeking someone I knew, could sit and talk to at least …

I stumbled over another pair of shoes, and landed on a leather sofa beside Cissnei, a pretty girl I knew from school. She was a few years older than me but she seemed to be on a similar wave length to me. I stayed on the sofa with her for a while; sipping my Mojito (my guess was that the secret ingredient was an egg cup of a salt), and when that was finished we did some shots together, chatting and laughing about anything that took our fancy, and as the alcohol released itself into our veins more rapidly, the more we laughed, long and high, and the less we talked. We danced together with a strange, almost animalistic intoxication, and dropped to the floor together with giggles and a seemingly endless tolerance of pain. My hand landed on some broken glass and I simply stared at it, and then showed it to Cissnei, who hugged me, laughing loudly and girlishly the whole time.

This was generally how Yuffie's parties spanned – everyone got drunk and no one really knew what was happening, or what anyone else was doing. At one point I heard someone shout: "Yo, Zack! Over here man!" I only caught a glimpse of my brother. I was stretched across Cissnei and Reno, who appeared to have taken the train back from Midgar, on the sofa, and Zack simply nodded his head at me. I smiled and gulped down part of my drink. It was easier to do that.

I felt the urge, for some strange reason, to go to the kitchen, and dragged Reno with me. I stumbled, for what felt like the tenth time that night, over something – I was too drunk at that point to know what it was I had tripped over – and as the ground neared my face, I felt Reno's arms around my waist, hauling me upright.

"Here we go, gorgeous," he chuckled, and I found myself face to face with his loose white shirt.

"Oops," I managed to giggle weakly, looking up at his face. "Bad times."

"Not so much," he grinned. He leant forward and kissed me softly. "It means I can do that."

"Reno," I tittered. "Zack's here! He can't see me kissing you!"

"Well then, we'll just have to go somewhere more private."

It seemed very natural to hold his hand and follow him up the stairs, past the smiling and crying eyes and into one of the bedrooms. It seemed even easier to simply fall onto the bed with Reno, allowing his lips to cover mine and his kisses to make my limbs move to accommodate his, to place my arms around his neck and feel his lips and teeth at my own. I made sounds that had never stumbled clumsily past my now bruised lips before, I wound myself around him in a way that I would never have done without the confidence that I had poured down my throat little under an hour ago.

His hands did not feel like they were marking me, as you would normally read in a scene of passion between a boy and a girl. He didn't feel slimy and perverse. Nor did his fingers feel like ice, or fire, or any other element you would want to throw into that recipe. It simply felt incredibly natural. It was like when you have your first kiss, and you don't really think about anything except the now – you do what feels right and if it feels wrong you stop. We didn't stop because it felt wrong. We didn't stop.

We would have done it, that is for sure. We talked about it, as we lay; our flesh pressed together, our lips occasionally bumping. My dress was stuck underneath his back – I could see the flash of blue clashing with his creamy white.

"Are you sure? You don't wanna, you know, wait?"

"I don't know. I guess I kind of do and kind of don't."

"Then…what?"

"Do you have anything?"

"Yeah…" he found his jeans, and burrowed in the pockets, finally extracting the little package.

"Then let's."

Even as we moved together, my father entered my mind. I thought back to the conversation we had had earlier that day, when he called me into the study, and sort of apologised to me for his behaviour the previous night.

"Look, Tifa, I'm sorry I got so cross. But you need to understand that you're too young to be going out and drinking all the time. You're just a child." I had bitten my tongue at that point just to keep myself quiet. I was ready to burst out with my favourite line of I'm not a child! Somehow I kept quiet. I simply nodded.

"Just promise me you'll be good at this party, Tifa?"

His lips were on mine again, and my limbs once again shifted to aid him. I felt him kiss my throat, and I braced myself, knowing the sharpness that was surely about to follow.

Of course, it didn't, because that just wouldn't be exciting enough for fate. The door opened.

"Oh my … shit. Tifa?"

"Zack?"

"Reno?"

"What the – get out!"

"Hey, hey, you gotta see this!"

"Zack, I don't think that's a very good idea, sweetheart…"

"Aw, but Aerith, this is so funny! Does anyone have a camera?"

"Zack, come on! Leave me alone!" He kept laughing. I swear his eyes were watering. I yanked my dress on as quickly as possible, and winced when I heard a sharp rip.

"Hey, Zack, I think I'm gonna take off – whoa."

"No, Cloudy, you can't go! Look, the party's only just getting started!" He pointed and roared with laughter. I felt the sting of tears breaching my eyelids and I zipped myself up shortly, grabbing my shoes and moving from the room as fast as my still intoxicated legs would take me.

"Hey, Teef, it was just a joke-"

"Just leave me alone!" I felt soft hands gently grabbing my arm, but when I saw Aerith's delicate fingers I just pulled away, walked straight into Cloud whose face was simply unreadable, and just walked away.

Walking away from a situation allows you to mull things over. As I pushed through the mass of bodies that never seemed to disperse, I thought about it, hating Zack's laughing face, Aerith's concerned face, Reno's guilty, sheepish face, Cloud's unreadable face…

I walked.

I locked myself in the toilet, feeling bitterness swell and die repeatedly inside of me. Any tears would have helped, I knew, but my body seemed to have dehydrated itself of tears in the past few days. I hung my head, my elbows resting on my knees at all the wrong, inebriated angles. I choked on my anger and embarrassment, squeezing my eyes tightly but the only reward was a strangled sob that ripped itself from my throat.

After some time I clambered off of the cold porcelain, and checked my face in the gilded mirror hanging over the sink. My cheeks were a bit red, my eyes a bit sad, but apart from that, my make up was fairly intact. I rubbed away some smudged shadow from the corner of one of my eyes, and then straightened my dress, fixed my hair and left the room.

All I really wanted to do was find somewhere to sit down, away from the noise and candour of the party, and simply mull over my thoughts. Maybe feel a bit sorry for myself. Cissnei waved at me from Reno's lap, her lips swollen. He nodded at me duly.

I found a white door and turned the handle. There didn't seem to be any sound coming from there but I've learnt that you can never really know. I pushed open the door, and found the dark coolness of Yuffie's father's study. It was seemingly empty, except for the full bookcases that lined the walls, a rug that stretched out from the door to the huge mahogany desk at the other end of the room, and the black leather swivel chair.

Like I said, you can never really know.

I felt my hopes break with a swearword and a guttural oath.

"Shit."

"Huh?"

The eyes that looked at me through the gloom were uncomfortably familiar, and the glint of blonde that flashed in the moonlight that was filtering through the naked window was suspicious.

I flicked on the light switch, and immediately wished I hadn't.

"Yuffie?"

"Tifa, you can't say anything, he'll kill us both, you know he will."

Her neck was bruised, her hair a mess, her top askew.

"What?"

"I know he's not here, but you can't say anything, not to Kadaj-"

"What's going on?" Her lips trembled with guilt.

"Cloud…he was just sad…I was just trying to make him feel better…" He looked at me from the desk chair, as she clambered out of his lap, fixing herself. I don't know what was more saddening – the sight that had met me when I had turned on the lights or the complete impassiveness of the mask he wore.

"Tifa…" I don't know which one of them said it but it made me ache. I turned on my heel and left. I was hoping to leave alone, so that I could go and further wallow in my own self misery, but Yuffie dashed across the room and halted my journey.

"Look, you really can't tell Kadaj, he will be so mad-"

"Yuffie, I don't think I can talk to you right now."

"Why? What's wrong? Did someone say something mean?"

"Can't you tell?" I heard myself shout. Cloud looked at me and I could almost see some sort of disappointed sadness.

"Tell what? Tifa, you're gonna have to tell me what the problem is. But first, seriously, you cannottell Kadaj, okay?"

I sighed and pulled myself away from her. I shut the door behind me, and moved through the now slowly thinning crowd.

Yes, I thought. This is the now.

I found myself outside. I sat on the kerb of the pavement, my elbows falling clumsily and ungracefully on my knees again. My head hung once more, my hair fell in front of my face. The bitterness reared once more and the tears fought for release but somehow I managed to prevent my eyes from granting my escape this freedom.

The weather was nothing. It wasn't rainy or warm now. It just was.

I still had my bejewelled sandals in my hand, and I pulled them on, painstakingly tying every buckle, my anguish hissing with frustration inside of me.

I sat there feeling incredibly sorry for myself, holding myself and feeling the astringent taste in my mouth sting. Why was I so upset?

Did I…did I like him?

I sighed in the frustration of not knowing. Even as I sat there, I felt him stand behind me, and then finally sit down on my right. He held a bottle of something in his hand, and every now and then he drank from it.

"So," he murmured. "What's up?"

"My brother saw me in bed with a nineteen year old boy. I walked in on my best friend with you. I don't know what's up at the moment. Not up, not down."

I couldn't see him, only the tarmac, but I knew he was nodding in understanding of my confusion.

"If you use the words emotional rollercoaster I'll hate you."

"Understood."

I think what made me feel the most ashamed was what Cloud must think of me. He barely knew me, and his first impression of me was surely one of an overly emotional, bratty girl who drank too much and made a fool of herself in public. I didn't blame him. Look at who I hung out with – a known sleazebag, who was possibly some kind of sexual predator (if the rumours proved correct), a girl whose reputation of Easy had led her into his lap and a group of people with similar reputations and got up to similar antics.

What must he think of me?

"Listen…about me and Reno-"

"-It's none of my business." I nodded.

"Okay."

"Me and Yuffie-"

"None of my business, Cloud."

"But it is. I can't really ask you for this, but…for your friend's sake. I strongly recommend you don't tell Kadaj."

I felt the first true smile of the evening, not fuelled by alcohol or the desire to have a good time, but merely by him.

"I won't tell him. But not for her…for you, Cloud."

"What do you mean?"

"If he finds out, he'll kill you, Cloud, he really will. I'm not exaggerating, he'll hurt you."

He shook his head. "I can take care of myself."

"You can't mess with Kadaj, Cloud. Honestly. I know he's Zack's best friend, but…you have to know, he'll kill you if he finds out."

There was a silence, and the two of us sat staring at the pavement for a while.

He broke it. "Tifa, about Reno … just don't worry about it. That kind of thing happens to the best of us."

"I know. Thank you."

"You're welcome." The silence continued, and then I turned and hugged him. I felt his chin on my shoulder and his arms around my back, and I softened into his touch. He was warm when everything out here was cool.

When we went back inside it was around four o'clock. The party was about winding down at that point, with people moving around trying to find somewhere to sleep. I found a sofa and settled down to sleep, pulling a blanket over me and using a pillow as a cushion. When I woke up a few hours later, he was still asleep but my head was resting on his shoulder, his on top of mine.

A few hours later, as the sun was bursting over the mountain our village stood in the shadow of; Cloud and I were rejoined by Zack and Aerith. We walked home along the dirt track, feeling the rays pricking our tired, tender skin, our heads full of thoughts and mugginess.

Somewhere, greeting the morning, a cockerel crowed, and I thought to myself: That is for betrayal.

I thought of Kadaj. Of Yuffie and Cloud, and the compromising position I had found them in.

If that is for betrayal, who was the traitor?

Who would the traitor be?

Chibi: Hope you enjoyed. Some edits made 28/9/2011. I like reviews! Thank you or reading.