The Warrior

Chapter 16

I bet you thought I'd never be back! HA! I finished a chapter - go figure. It's bad. Please have mercy on me.

Previously...

She barely registered the faint brush of finger tips that slid up along the back of her neck and gently stroked her hair. Her head fell against his chest, the helm she wore making it awkward to relax as she settled there in silence, waiting for the nightmare to end and reality to begin.

"Let's go." Sephiroth murmured in her ear.

She nodded miserably and stepped away from him. More blue uniforms had gathered, surveying the wreckage as the last of the Avalanche members retreated. They were not giving pursuit it seemed.

Sephiroth turned away then and she followed, refusing to look back.

If there was ever a time that Tifa should need to disappear, now would be it.

There was no mistaking the accusation behind the eyes that followed their strategic retreat, or the vice like grip that Sephiroth kept on her wrist . It crept under her skin and festered in her blood like a poison. She was forced to move in accordance with his swift pace or trip onto her face.

Tifa's legs were not responding with great alacrity - her mind even less so. If it weren't for his dragging her along behind she would still be sitting on the grating back there. Time had gotten lost somewhere in the shuffle and she drifted after him mindlessly.

Sephiroth did not speak. His jaw was tight, a muscle ticking at the corner of his eye.

It occurred to her that she'd put them both in abominable danger. Not only that, but her mission for Avalanche was now in jeopardy too. The realization filled her with bitter self-loathing, if only for a moment.

I really messed things up, didn't I? A sardonic smile thinned her lips. Well, you knew it could end this way back when you started it.

The silence was almost unbearable, like a heavy weight in her chest that threatened to burst with every step, but the bite of Sephiroth's fingers kept her grounded. It was starting to hurt, which reminded her belatedly of why she was here in the first place. Then she got angry.

What right did they have to expect anything more from her? She didn't owe them anything, certainly not this man.

Tifa's hand curled into a fist and she planted her feet. With a yank of her wrist she broke the General's grasp and ripped off the helm that had been rubbing uncomfortably against her scalp. Her brow cast a furious shadow over her eyes as she stepped back from him and massaged the tender skin. She watched him warily, daring him to act.

A part of her wanted him to even, for the satisfaction of knowing that there was nothing he could do that the world hadn't already tried. Or him, for that matter.

For a brief instant his eyes were like molten lava burning into her skull. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his face drawn in a fierce expression to match her own. Just like that the tension evaporated, unfurling in the sag of his broad shoulders and the fall of his head as he looked away.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." He said after a moment, gazing out across the street at nothing in particular. "But you know there will be repercussions - my word may not be enough to save you."

Tifa tried not to be incredulous as she stared at the side of his face, "I never asked you to save me. And it doesn't matter now anyway." She kicked at a chunk of concrete, launching it clattering down the street.

Zangan was right - she should never have come here.

The silence beckoned for her to leave before her resolve broke, but not before his words pulled her up short. "What would you have me do then?"

Tifa blinked her eyes, fending off the emotional confusion that swelled behind them. "Just go away." She murmured hoarsely. "I don't need your help."

Something inside him had snapped. His hands clenched and his boots moved of their own accord, determination hardening his features with each step. He removed his glove and took her hand in his, "Come on." He said, and he looked her in the eye fully. "If he is alive, we will find him."

Tifa looked at their joined hands with a swallow, the warmth of his skin tingling against hers in a way that made her heart jump. She lifted her head, a question burning in her eyes.

Sephiroth resisted the urge to reach out and banish the strand of hair that obscured her right eye. Instead he gave her hand a careful squeeze, coaxing her to follow him. The train tunnels were not far ahead - he could get them there in no time at all.

Hesitantly, a tightness in her chest that she couldn't explain, Tifa followed him into the dark.

The night air was heavy and warm for the season, clouds drooping and clinging to the rooftops. Overcast was so dreary - Sephiroth just preferred it rain rather than squat over the streets with empty threats. Tifa had not made a sound since he had led her from the empty street on this wild goose chase - a worrisome development in his estimation.

He didn't know what errant thought had convinced him that doing what he was about to do was a good idea, but the conviction had built up momentum and now there was no turning back. It was worth it just to see a spark of hope in the woman that held to his hand like her last tether to life. The chances that the boy had survived the fall might be small, but he owed it to her to find him.

Or so he told himself.

In truth, he just wanted to help. The shadows that followed in her footsteps gave him little peace either. He feared answers almost as desperately as he wanted them, and the gaping chasm between them would not be bridged without that knowledge.

Sephiroth was no coward.

That didn't stop the deepening frown from moving over his face. He was half convinced that he would cut out his heart for her if she asked. Not even Angeal or Genesis could inspire that kind of loyalty in him - he had priorities after all.

Up till now at any rate.

They ducked through the train tunnels and side passages as he led their way downwards to the slums, Tifa following obediently behind in oppressive silence. If his calculations were correct, the boy would be in Sector 5. There was a church there, as Zack had waxed poetic about it on more than one occasion.

And, if his gut instinct were any indication, a flower girl.

As usual, his gut was correct.

It had been a long shot at best. He was not expecting to find the boy there, nor the flower girl for that matter, so it was to his great surprise (and subsequent contrition) that he found them both. The former was a little worse for ware, but he was alive.

She was the same woman, he was almost certain now, though he'd never personally met her. The coincidence, however, was far too uncanny for it not to be. Who else but her could cultivate flowers in such a desolate place?

How odd that Cloud seemed to be taking to her in much the same way Zack had.

A gasp behind him announced that Tifa was, in fact, still very much aware of her surroundings. Sephiroth turned to her, a strange pang in his chest as he saw one grief replaced by another in the glistening reflection of her eyes. He sighed inwardly, because this hadn't been what he had in mind in bringing her here, and why was it that everything he did ended disastrously?

But she smiled, letting go of his hand as she watched them, and released a sigh of relief. When she turned back to him her eyes burned bright with conviction and she gave to him her most heart felt thanks. Then she turned and walked away.

Sephiroth stared after her in bemusement. Indecision stayed his legs from moving after her as he glanced between her retreating back and the scene playing out in the flower patch.

Love sick idiot. He did not stop to explore whether it was the boy to whom the thought was meant, or himself.

Cursing himself and the Gods for all their conniving entreaties, he let her go.

Sephiroth kept to the rafters of the building for a higher vantage point, squatting well within the shadows and out of sight. From there he watched, waiting. He could make out their voices barely, a word here and there, but nothing more. The flower girl's laughter was unmistakable, as were the awkward gestures from the young man as he fidgeted around her.

The woman was glowing . If he looked too long he was convinced she would burn away his retinas.

When the Turks arrived, he took his leave. It wouldn't do for them to find him here, nor the strategically placed barrels he'd left behind.

Sephiroth found Tifa at the child's play ground a short while later, just inside the gates between sector 6 and 7. She sat upon a swing, hands wound about the chain links as she spun, 'round and 'round. When he stopped in front of her, she dug the heels of her boots into the ground and came to a stop facing him.

"So what will you do now?" She inquired.

"I'm taking you back to head quarters." Sephiroth answered.

To this she frowned dubiously and straightened in her swing, "That's kind of dangerous, isn't it? Shin-Ra might be stupid, but everybody saw what happened back there."

He shrugged, a humorless smirk framing his mouth. "I'm more valuable to them alive than dead. Many a stalwart soldier has broken down in the midst of battle when discovering a dear brother to be a traitor."

Tifa arched a single brow, before understanding sent the second to join it. Her mouth formed a silent 'o' and her head cocked to one side, curious. "You think they'll believe that?"

"The bulk of Shin-Ra's military doings are reported by Angeal and myself." Sephiroth explained. "If we say it is so, it is so."

"But that doesn't mean they believe you." She gazed at the ground, stirring the dirt with her boot. "I don't want you to die."

His shadow fell over her face as he took another step towards her and crouched down to eye level, an amused lilt to his lips. "Well, we could always tell them it was Dev that had the nervous break down on duty. My superiors would be none the wiser."

Tifa met his eyes with a startled laugh, "Oh really?"

Sephiroth flashed a conniving smile. "Quite so."

"Just walk normal." Wutai's infamous princess ninja grumbled.

"I am!" The tall and lanky Soldier whispered back with an affronted glance. His braids were carefully tucked up underneath his helm so as not to draw attention should someone recognize his trademark hair.

Her head shifted slightly to accommodate a scathing once over of his buoyant stride and rolling shoulders. "You call that normal?"

Chaka's helmet afforded a clear view of his scowling mouth as he let out a grating sigh and settled into a rigid, military march. The frown quickly morphed into a pleased smirk at the thoroughly scandalized look on Yuffie's face.

"Oh my god! That's even worse." She hissed with a punch to the kidneys for emphasis.

"Ouch!" He yelped, hop stepping away from her violence happy hands and narrowing his eyes behind the visor. "There's a song stuck in my head, ay?"

"Well try walkin' like a normal person then. Without all the…you know…" She made a vague hand gesture to his person.

"Awesome dance moves?" He supplied and spun a quick circle with a goofy little flourish as he fell smoothly back into step beside her, backwards.

Yuffie wrinkled her nose. He had very white teeth. "Undulating."

Chaka made a face. "Undulating?"

"It's freakin' me out."

"Short trip. " He muttered and stuffed his hands in his pockets with a sigh.

Yuffie fired a suspicious glare over his bow that went unnoticed and sniffed petulantly, looking surreptitiously out of the corners of her eyes. There were soldiers wandering all over the place, but nobody looked twice at them. It really wasn't much of a smuggling operation at all - too easy, she thought smugly.

A subdued silence settled over the two, which was disrupted by a covert poke attack to the ribs - neither party would admit to instigating it - which was than retaliated with equal vengeance. Prudence eventually demanded that they stop before someone noticed the two idiots shoving each other back and forth down the hall. They silently agreed on a tie, or so the other would maintain later, and continued on their way in relative ease.

Someone may have flicked pocket lint onto someone else's uniform for the last word.

Soldier uniforms never seemed to have a shortage of lint, Chaka noted silently to himself. Not just any lint either - this stuff was industrial grade gooey shit, like gum. It was the source of much heated debate in the barracks.

Just what exactly was in the water in this place, or was someone just dumping crap in pockets for laughs?

His eyes slide surreptitiously at the head that bobbed along beside him at shoulder level. He wouldn't put it past her to have a hand in it, but this had been going on for years. She couldn't have been infiltrating Shin-Ra that long, could she?

Chaka scratched his goatee with a pensive frown.

Well, he'd probably never know.

All this pomp and flash was probably unnecessary - he was pretty sure he could get himself out of the building on his own without difficulty. It was just after that where he lost track because he had nowhere to go and if things were as serious as they seemed, they'd track him down to finish the job. He wasn't sure what freaked him out more, the fact that this place was really starting to get fucking creepy, or the fact that it had taken him this long to notice.

It was going to be nice to put it behind him, even if he was just jumping into another proverbial flaming inferno.

But he had one stop to make first.

Chaka veered off without warning. "Be right back." He said as he reached for the door. They were using the maintenance stairs.

"Hey!" With an indignant huff, Yuffie charged after him. He was already through the door and half way down the hall when she emerged, cursing his freakishly long legs. She glanced around quickly before running after him.

She'd just caught up to him when he started to push through the kitchen staff door. Panicked, she barreled into him, wrenching the door free of his hand with a well placed elbow to his solar plexus, and slammed the door shot. Breathing hard and looking every bit the frightening banshee she'd shown herself to be, she spread her arms, blocking the way.

"What are ya doing?" She demanded. "You're gonna get us both killed!"

"But-"

"No buts!"

"She's my girl! I have to -"

"Your what?" Her eyes widened comically and her mouth twisted into horrified realization. "Ya gotta be kiddin' me. Yer stopping for a booty call?"

"What? No!" Chaka gawked like he'd never seen her before. "For the love of…do ya even know what that means?"

"Well yeah!" She insisted with a slight fidget and looked away.

They glanced down the halls apprehensively, before turning back to glare at each other again. The stalemate lasted all of two seconds, when the door suddenly opened behind them and Yuffie elevated off the floor with a squawk of surprise. She did a full 180 before her feet touched the ground.

"Can I help you?" It was a woman.

"Nope!" Yuffie interjected loudly and without further ado commenced dragging Chaka's sorry ass back down the hall towards the stairs. Idiot.

"That wasn't her, ay." He said, once beyond earshot.

"Oh eww! Gross! I can't believe-"

"I was just going to say goodbye!" Chaka maintained, exasperation leaking into his voice.

"Pervert."

He threw his head back with a groan, " Serenity now."

True to his word, Sephiroth brought Tifa back to HQ without difficulty. He sent one message to Angeal to apprise him of the situation. Then he escorted her to the detention center, where Dev was summarily discharged for his actions at the reactor earlier that day, and her name was cleared.

Somehow it didn't feel that way.

She trained for an hour in the simulator afterwards and wasn't in her bunk until 3 a.m., at which point she fell asleep within seconds of hitting her pillow. In the deepest rung of sleep her dreams ran away with her, into places best left alone.

A bag full of baseball sized materia spheres filled her rucksack. She was running the halls of Shin-Ra headquarters, only it was a maze and the night sky shown from above in something meant to resemble starlight. The thunderous echo of running boots pursued her and she turned another random corner.

An indistinct figure wearing a bandana and a white, sleeveless top stepped into her path.

"Give 'em to me." He said.

Tifa hesitated, "You're not Yuffie."

"I'm her contact." He answered and took another step towards her. "We don't have much time."

Something about him wasn't right, she was sure. So she grabbed one of the many materia in her bag and lobbed it at him, at which point Chaka appeared beside her with a disgusted look as her throw went wide of the mark.

"No, no, no," He shook his head and retrieved one of the spheres from her bag. "You've got to put more shoulder into it."

Tifa watched his demonstration seriously and retrieved another materia sphere. It seemed to have shrunk in size, now fitting easily in her palm so that her finger tips touched when she held it. Frowning, she planted her feet wide apart and threw from her shoulder, as directed. The one with the bandana vanished with a pop as the sphere hit him square between the eyes.

Another scene shifted into place. It was Cloud and he looked a little disheveled with some blood on his temple. He climbed to his feet in a meadow of daisies and splintered wood.

"Are you okay?" She asked, stepping towards him.

"Just bumped my head a little." He answered and shouldered his sword. "You're going to be late to the wedding."

Her mouth twisted in a frown. "I have to take this materia bag back to Yuffie though." She argued. " I don't have time."

Cloud looked at her aghast. "You're going to be late to your own wedding?"

"It's not my wedding." Tifa huffed. "He's not the right one."

"That's weird." He stated frankly. "Why'd you say yes if he wasn't the right one?"

She sighed inwardly and turned away, only to be confronted by her pursuers. They wore blue uniforms with leather boots and shoulder armor, or they wore bandanas and street clothes, and they all circled her. A path was opened and Angeal appeared looking grave as he approached.

"You can't back out now." He told her. "It's time."

Tifa felt her hand tighten on the bag of materia that was now barely the size of a small purse. When they grabbed her she lost her grip and the bag fell, spilling tiny beads all across to floor, to which she cried out in dismay. She was going to have to pick it all up now!

But they were taking away before she could, so Yuffie was going to be irate with her now, and she didn't want to get married. Not to that one anyway.

They had turned only a few corners before the church floor and the blooming daffodils came into full focus. The floor was grass and greenery, no wood at all, and no seats. A cart of flowers was at the head of the procession, and so was he.

He was wearing a kimono and his silver hair was braided. It was weird. A wide, all-consuming grin of madness split his thin lips as he held his sword like the executioner.

Tifa balked. "He's not the right one!" She protested, but they kept dragging her forward. "He's going to kill me!"

But no one was listening to her.

Cloud was standing there and the flower girl was beside him. Tifa looked at him in desperation, pleading, but his eyes were all on the girl with pink ribbons in her hair - about 20 actually. A lot of damn ribbons.

They both turned and smiled encouragingly at her.

The hands that gripped her tightened around her arms as she reached the cart of flowers. Then she was pushed to her knees.

Upon closer inspection, they weren't flowers at all in the cart, but materia spheres on twisted pieces of metal. She looked up and met abnormally large cat-like pupils that swallowed her up with a maniacal gleam. It didn't really look like him at all, she determined absently.

"You're not Sephiroth." She announced with an air of calm that didn't quite suit the circumstances. "That nose is way too big and his chin isn't that pointy."

Out of nowhere Vincent dropped onto the scene, a gun held poised at Sephiroth's chest as he posed the menacing question, "What have you done with my hair?"

Tifa woke up feeling more tired than when she'd gone to sleep. A hand reached up to rustle her tangled hair as she sat forward and released a sigh. Her eyes alighted on her phone which sat on the small counter space with a frown.

There was still the matter of that materia bag that was in her locker - her dreams were good for something at least. If all went according to plan Yuffie was gone with Chaka by now, though she supposed that didn't prevent her from coming back. It would be better to catch them together to enforce her idea home though, especially with blackmail at her fingertips.

Yuffie would have to work to get back her prize.

Getting to her feet with a groan, Tifa reached across the diminutive floor space of her room for her phone and typed a quick message to the person in question. Hopefully she would get it soon and then she could mark off one more task done. With so much to do she had to make herself focus on one thing at a time.

First off, breakfast, and then training. It wouldn't do to miss again today and she could use the distraction. Even if that meant having to see Sephiroth so early in the morning following another one of her bizarre dream encounters.

To her infinite surprise, he was not there, but Angeal was and he didn't look happy. When they'd finished with the morning session and soldiers began filing out of the gym he asked her to stay behind.

Tifa swallowed a nervous lump in her throat as she nodded and turned back around, facing him.

"Director Lazard has requested an audience with you." He stated when the door shut on the last person and they were alone. "You should go see him immediately."

She blinked, "Me? But what could he want with-"

"I don't know." Angeal interrupted, agitation stiffening his shoulders as he rubbed his neck. He spared her a regretful glance, "But be on your guard."

Oh she'd definitely be that - for all the good it would do.

"Yes sir." She murmured and started to leave. At the door she pivoted around with one final look over her shoulder - Angeal's head was bowed, lines of strain creasing his face. Tifa took a breath, "It'll be okay you know."

He lifted his head to meet her eyes and offered a brittle smile. She smiled back, weakly though it were, and then she left.

Her hands were moist and clammy inside her gloves as she made the long walk to Lazard's office. She had to remember to play her part there, assuming that they hadn't already discovered the truth and she was walking to her execution. They probably had videos saved in the simulator, unless Angeal had gone and deleted the evidence.

She grimaced. If she didn't stop thinking of all the possible ways this could end badly she'd be a frightful mess before she even go there, which was not going to help matters any.

Sighing shakily Tifa stepped into the elevator and sank back against the glass as the doors slid close. Her stomach lurched as the elevator started its ascent. When it stopped again - much to soon - she straightened rigidly.

An immaculate blue suit met her blank stare. She managed to move her eyes upwards to match the familiar attire to a face and was unsure whether to be relieved or horrified at the trademark sunglasses that settled on her for a few choice seconds, before he stepped inside, punching a floor number, and took a stand a couple feet off her left.

Tifa had to enforce all her self-control not to glance over. It was hard enough just keeping her hands relaxed at her sides. At least they were on equal footing in that they both had something to hide behind. She could just barely see him from the corners of her eyes through the visor without turning her head.

And she was almost %100 sure that he was watching her too behind his sunglasses.

His name escaped her at the moment, but he looked like he was 7 feet tall standing next to her. Not even Sephiroth was that tall, and he was around 6 feet. She could feel her pulse quickening under her skin and inhaled slowly in a vain attempt to stay calm. The last thing she needed was a confrontation in an elevator with one of the Turks - the hand to hand fighting one no less.

It was at times like these that she kind of missed the training sessions with Chaka. She was still practicing the maneuvers he'd taught her, but it wasn't quite the same.

Tifa was so relieved when the elevator stopped and the Turk stepped out that she sagged back against the wall with a strangled sound. The sensation was short lived as the elevator jerked back into motion. It took far too short a time to get to the desired floor and when the doors opened she had to pry herself off the wall to step out into the hall.

No one was about as she made her way to the door on the far end of the hall and her footfalls filled the silence with ominous portent. Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh as the office loomed in front of her, a shiver rolling down her spin. She stopped and stared for a long time before finally gathering the courage to knock.

A voiced hailed from within, muted, "Come in."

Her eyes closed for a second as she bit her lip. Then the door swished open of its own accord, forcing her to move regardless of the nerves going haywire under her skin.

The Director looked up from his desk, hands laced together neatly in front of him as he leaned forward. A tired smile grace his lips and it was not entirely unfriendly - just distant. He told her to sit, gesturing at one of two guest chairs.

Tifa complied wordlessly, schooling her face as she settled into the cushions. She lifted her head to look back at him, worry creasing her forehead where he could not see.

"Fry, is it?" He inquired pleasantly.

She gave a hesitant nod.

"Ah, good. Would you remove your helmet please?"

The benign request was at sharp odds with the sudden panic that tightened in Tifa's stomach. Her fingers clenched the armrests of her chair and her brain locked up. She stared back at him through the visor, wide eyed and terrified.

"Fry?" The Director voice jarred her again. It did not bear suspicion or aggression, which didn't seem fitting to the situation. Perhaps it was simple curiosity, or maybe just protocol, but regardless she was backed into a corner that she couldn't escape.

She was dead no matter how you sliced it.

Slowly, her hands trembling, Tifa reached up and grasped the rim of her safety valve. With careful precision she lifted it off her head and she was surprised by how easily she maintained a blank expression as she revealed herself. A part of her exulted in the release of all the anxiety from having had to maintain the charade for so long.

What she hadn't expected was the soft laughter that drifted across the glass desk from the man as he leaned back in his chair. A bright gleam of curiosity lit his gaze as he studied her, one hand bracing the side of his face. He straightened and picked up a folder lying in front of him with a thoughtful frown.

"Well," Lazard began with an amused glance. "That wasn't quite what I was expecting, but if Angeal is willing to swear by you I have no complaint. Talent is talent."

Tifa reflexively choked on air for a second. "You're not…I'm not in trouble?" She sat forward tensely, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy.

"Trouble?" He echoed, a shadow of confusion forming across his brow. "I shouldn't think so. You're one of the best snipers we have - it would be foolish to pass that over in light of your gender." With a flick of his wrist he sent the folder sliding towards her. "Your next assignment. Once you have memorized the contents, burn it."

At first she stared dumbly at it. It was a red folder that said 'CLASSIFIED' in blaring white letters. Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn't dare look at it here with him watching so she met his gaze instead and tried to read his expression. She could not believe the simple acceptance in his easy smile.

"If you have any questions ask your assigned commanding officer. You will have a meeting in four days time with your squad to finalize the details." The Director added and glided over to his computer on squeaky wheels, effectively dismissing her.

Tifa stood, feeling significantly dazed by the unexpected turn of events as she pulled on her helm once again. "Thank you, sir." She said listlessly and made her slow, methodical way out of his office.

Her mind was still struggling to catch up with the sudden, drastic turn of events as she entered the elevator. She hadn't considered the possibility that they simply wouldn't care if she was female, and couldn't quite fathom how easily Lazard had dismissed it. But then, they didn't know who she was either, probably - if they had her reception would have been quite different.

The real kicker though, was the folder that she held almost reverently in her hands. Tifa still refrained from looking at its contents because if they were what she thought they were her knees might give out. Collapsing in the middle of the hall, as blissfully relieved as she might feel, was probably not in her best interest right then.

It was simply too perfect, and yet…she'd set herself up beautifully to be chosen, what with her demonstration during the test.

She swallowed hard. There were no excuses now - no way out of what she had to do. Everything was laid out in such a way that her mission was doing itself for her.

All she had to do was pull the trigger.

Tifa closed her eyes and wished away all the anxious fear that clamped down at her. When the elevator stopped they jerked back open, along with the doors.. A disgruntled sound may have tumbled unbidden out her mouth.

"Huh." The bald man in sunglasses said as he sized her up with a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. With a shrug of his excessively broad shoulders he moved to stand beside her for the second time that day.

The doors closed behind the Turk with mocking finality and he casually leaned over to punch in his floor. His gaze passed over the red folder with practiced ease and Tifa shifted it out of sight with a narrow look.

He arched a single brow. "Special ops?"

Her spine was as taught as a bow string. "Yeah."

"Must be pretty good."

Tifa fidgeted and couldn't help but think that she must look really suspicious the way her fingers kept twitching. "Yeah." She forced out, lips thinning as she shut them firmly.

When the door opened again - to her floor - she practically dove into the hall. She didn't look back as she turned the corner and headed for her dorm. Only when she was safely locked within her room did she allow herself to sink to the floor and remove her helmet with a groan.

After her breathing had finally regulated and she could sit without listening anxiously every 20 seconds for footsteps approaching her door, she laid the folder out in front of her. She bit her lip, eyeing it almost disdainfully.

"Get on with it…" She grumbled to herself and flipped open the cover.

Tifa stilled as she read. When she had finished her head fell back with a dull thud against the door. She stared at the ceiling, her heart hammering in her chest.

Knowing what she would find had done nothing to diminish the feeling of trepidation that settled in her guts at seeing the official document. It was no longer a supposition, but a reality staring her in the face.

A very ugly, harsh reality.

Author's Notes: I don't even want to know how long it has been. I'm in some denial about that. I'm pretty much convinced that my writing just sucks, hence the lack of updates. I must be an absolute disaster of an author to have so many unfinished stories, but my goal is to update three of them today. We'll see about that. Sooo, back to this story - I'm taking my sweet time getting anywhere, aren't I? Well, in the next couple of chapters the shit will hit the fan. You know, if I actually get there before next year, which is my plan. I'm really going to try and actually update this thing on a frequent basis again because I'm so miserable with myself for not finishing anything. Bear with me, if anyone should still follow this - I wish I were better.

Ahem, now for some shameless advertising - I drew FF7 chibis of my favorite characters and they are posted at my deviantart account under the same name, Faerlyte. I even made one of Chaka, so if you're interested in seeing my version of him, go check it out. They're not too bad - for me anyway. It's helped me practice my coloring skills.

I was going to ask for reviews, but then it occurred to me that if it didn't suck you'd probably do that anyway.