CHAPTER 19: LINGERING GHOSTS

Tifa let out a cry of surprise as she landed with on her back to the mat.

"Get up, try again!" her master said and Tifa quickly obeyed, hopping to her feet.

Tifa faked to the left before swinging to the right to strike with a side kick. Zangan easily avoided her, caught her foot, and spun her off balance so that she tumbled to the floor. She only paused for a moment before getting to her feet again.

This was how it was, every day, and Tifa couldn't get enough. Learning martial arts was such a thrill and daily escape that she constantly found herself internally distraught whenever it was time to go home. It was such a pleasant environment: the structure of their sessions was predictable and enjoyable, Zangan's confidence in her was inspiring, and she thoroughly enjoyed how her body felt stronger and lighter. Tifa was feeling the benefits of being a student of such an art, learning to connect her body and mind—just like playing the piano. When she was in Master's dojo, she felt like her hard work played off and that she was channeling her energy into something productive. It was such a vast difference from what she felt at home. Master Zangan was patient and gentle and Tifa clung to his kindness like a magnet, finding comfort in the stability and the sense that she belonged. She knew her place and her teacher was always optimistic and told her that laughter was as important of a teaching tool as anything else. Her home was a stark contrast to her learning environment, slowly changing into a place of tension and gloom.

In the winter months, her father hadn't had much construction work. Instead, he spent much more time at home, carving or sawing or sanding in his woodshop. When he wasn't working and the snow wasn't too high, he made himself scarce by lingering in the tavern or haunting her mother's grave. Any other time they spent together over meals or during the frequent snow storms seemed uncomfortable and strained. Once or twice, Papa would have a kind word or even a smile to give her, but more often than not Tifa sensed that these days, she was more of a maidservant than his daughter. Gone were the days that they'd read together or play card games by the warmth of the hearth. Life was lonesome in that house, but it was bearable when he was sober. Things only became frightening when he came home angry and full of liquor. Her wardrobe had become the perfect hiding place when she sensed that Papa was in a foul mood.

But now that March had come and the oncoming spring was beginning to make itself known, she hoped the atmosphere of the Lockhart house would become less melancholy. The sun would be back soon enough, hopefully filling their home with hope and warmth as well as light.

"Enough, Tifa," Zangan said and relaxed from his fighting stance. "We'll go through that again tomorrow—I want to begin to teach you how to fall properly to minimize injury and quicken your recovery time."

"Please, let me try once more!" Tifa begged. She didn't want to go home, yet!

Her master shook his head, "You need to get home before the sun rises, young lady."

She tried not to let the disappointment show on her features. "Yes, Master."

Zangan sensed her unhappiness and knelt beside his pupil. At first, he had been apprehensive about taking on Tifa as his pupil and regretted the fact that it was more out of pity for her after her mother died than her skill or tenacity. A decade ago, he had agreed to take a young girl as an apprentice and she had lost interest after six months. Tifa had now been under his tutelage for about ten months, and had already proved his initial assumptions wrong by progressing quickly in her abilities.

"Tifa, you know that I am only honoring your father's wishes. Come here any time as he allows it."

The girl looked into Zangan's eyes. She thought that the kindheartedness she found there would give her peace, but instead made her heart constrict painfully in her chest. She bowed her head in thanks and rose to her feet.

Tifa changed out of her fighting clothes, folded them neatly into her satchel and exited her master's home—a small cottage down the dirt road from the village. The snow had almost melted completely, exposing grass here or there in lawns and pastures. The dirt roads were muddy and lonesome at pre-dawn, but the crisp morning air felt good on her skin. She snuck back into town square shortly before the village began to stir. Passing by Cloud's house, her heart lurched as she was reminded of the days when her friend would hold her hand and walk with her to school. Those happy days seemed so far away, now. The empty feeling of isolation would creep over her as Tifa thought of the other kids skipping to the school house each morning, learning their lessons and playing with one another in the yard. As much as she enjoyed her apprenticeship with Zangan, she couldn't help but feel as if she now existed in a completely different world from her peers—even Cloud.

The day was long and lonesome as Tifa set to work, prepping food for her and her father and heating up snow to use for the laundry since the pump in the backyard was still frozen underground. Papa hadn't been home all day which was a blessing, for it took energy to feign happiness in his presence. The girl took the broom down to the woodshop so she could sweep the sawdust and debris from the floor when she saw something unfamiliar. There were a half dozen dark, glass bottles lying around. Some were on the counter and others lay on their sides on the floor. They seemed to be empty, except for one that was half full on the counter top. Tifa took the bottle from its perch and slowly rolled it in her hand so that she could look at the label.

"Whiskey…"she read aloud.

Tifa sniffed it once and recognized the smell. It was the same scent on Papa's breath when he pushed her onto her bed and shouted at her to go sleep. She'd never forget that odor as he squeezed her wrists and growled harsh words. Tifa contemplated taking a sip, but she was afraid to. Her father had told her once that drinking helped make it easier for him to live without her mother. However, all it seemed to do was transform him into a scary man. She wondered if drinking the alcohol would make it easier for her to live through these bleak days. What if it made her fall into a fit of furies like Papa? Tentatively, she brought the bottle to her lips and sipped. She instantly regretted it. The liquid felt like fire in her throat and she immediately fell into a coughing fit. Face flushed and teary eyed, she set the bottle back into its original position and quickly resumed sweeping.

The sun had set and she was still alone. Was it a blessing or a curse? Tifa eased her tired body in a hot bath; her muscles sore from that morning's training. She dried herself and dressed in her white nightgown. Lonely and unsure of how to remedy that, she stood in the hallway for a long minute. Her feet led her forward of their own accord and she wandered into her parent's room. It seemed that Papa hadn't moved any of her mother's things. She ran a finger through the dust sitting on top of perfume bottles, the jewelry box, and lacquered make up case.

A necklace lay on her mother's bedside table: tiny, delicate pearls dotted a silver chain. Tifa had seen her mother wear this very necklace many, many times. Instead of adorning Lia's graceful neck, the piece of jewelry lay on the cold, dusty wood. The sight was enough to make a lump rise in her throat, and Tifa quickly swallowed against it. She couldn't cry. It could never bring Mama back; she had certainly cried enough tears over Lia's death to know that. The girl reached out to touch the necklace but drew her hand back when a sudden, eerie feeling fell over her. Slowly, she glanced around the room. Her mother's shoes still sat in the corner; her shawl still hung on the hook behind the door; her mending basket was still against the wall. Unease grew into heaviness and fright, and she quickly removed herself from the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

… … …

Her trusty satchel made picking up produce and groceries much easier than clumsily balancing fruits and vegetables in her arms. Tifa made her way through town square, bidding a shy hello to passersby as she walked along. It was early afternoon and the area was bustling with activity. Tifa was excited to get home. After putting the food away, she and Cloud could go on their usual walk through the woods and spend some time playing. It had been quite some time since she had the chance to spend an entire afternoon with him. It was hard to see Cloud in the winter months, since the high amount of snowfall and bitter cold of the mountains made it difficult for them to meet in a way that was safe from her father's watchful eyes. And so, most of their conversing took place shivering as they whispered to each other out of their open windows. Her hands ached for the feel of his fingers in hers.

A long time ago, she and Papa used to stroll on the wooded paths together. He would teach her the names of the birds and imitate their songs, making Tifa giggle. He'd point out fuzzy caterpillars and carry her on his shoulders as he taught her how to tell maple from oak, spruce from pitch pine. They'd linger in thick groves, singing together and breathing in the pine scented air. Once, he had taken a break to sit against a tree and she had waited until he had closed his eyes before dumping an armful of pine needles on his head. Tifa remembered how he'd laughed and tickled her until she couldn't breathe. She'd give anything to have the Papa that would call her his sweet pea back. But those days were unreachable now. It was easy to get lost in the spiral of sadness and loss, so Tifa chose to focus on the blessing of having a friend like Cloud to explore the thickets with instead.

Shopping completed, she trotted along towards her home. She spotted Mrs. Nelson sweeping the mat outside of the schoolhouse and couldn't help but stare at the woman's rounded belly. Cloud had told her that there was a baby inside that was due to be born in June, and it fascinated her. How exciting, to get married and have a baby in your belly! When it was born, it would be fun to play with and take care of. And with a baby around, things could never be lonesome. Babies liked to laugh and be merry, and they made all the adults happy, something that was growing more and more difficult to do as she grew older.

She would be ten in May and allowed to marry at age fifteen. Five years was a long time away and her heart sunk to think that she'd have to wait that long to escape the monotony of each day and the oppression of her empty house. How wonderful would it be to get married to a man who loved her as much as Papa had loved her mother? Would she be allowed to choose a husband or did her father pick for her? She hoped she got to decide, because her father would certainly never choose Cloud, and he was her first choice. The thought of living with Cloud in a house of their own made an excited giggle threaten to form in her throat.

"Yo, Tifa!" She turned to see Thomas walking towards her in his dress clothes from school.

Tifa gave him a small smile, "Happy birthday, Thomas."

He had been talking about it all week. As the eldest member of their little crew, Thomas frequently boasted about his age and everyone was well aware that he had turned twelve. In his hand was an expensive looking slingshot.

"Is that your new toy?" she asked, observing the little wooden weapon.

"It's my birthday gift from my parents!" he grinned, holding it out for her to see. It was intricately carved and painted with streaks of red and blue. A fine lacquer made it shiny and strong.

"That's so cool! You're so lucky." Tifa said as she reached out to run her hand down the smooth handle and touch leather pouch held on by a thick elastic string.

"Come on, I'll show you how to use it!"

Thomas reached forward and took her hand, pulling her out of the square and towards the clearing at the edge of town. The grass tickled her stocking clad legs as they made their way out into the open. He bent down to pick up several small rocks. Tifa crouched to help him find some ammo. Although she felt as if she existed in an entirely different world than the other kids, Thomas had always reached out to her and kept her in the loop. Though he was a little cocky and a tad pushy, he had always been good to her. Smiling, she handed him her fist full of pebbles.

"Ready?" he asked, loading a rock into the pouch. "Aim…fire!" He drew the elastic back and let go, watching the projectile fly into the distance.

"Amazing!" Tifa grinned. "Can I try?"

"Sure," Thomas said, standing to move behind her. "Let me teach you"

Placing the handle in her palm, he showed her how to properly load her ammo into the pouch and position her hands when drawing the strings back.

"Alright, let 'er fly!"

Excitement coursed through her veins as she let go, watching the rock sail through the air. After fifteen minutes of practicing their aim and laughing at Tifa's misfortune of slapping herself in the thumb with the cord, they sat together on the wooden fence at the pasture's edge. Big, fluffy clouds lazily drifted against the blue sky and a warm breeze blew, promising the arrival of spring at last. Tentatively, Thomas reached to place his fingers atop Tifa's hand.

"So what did you get me for my birthday, Tifa?" Thomas turned to face her with a grin.

"Nothing, I'm sorry. I don't have any gil of my own."

"That's alright. I can think of something free you can give me."

He gently touched her chin with his index finger and thumb, tilting her face upwards as he leaned in closer to her. Tifa wasn't sure what was happening until she felt his breath on her lips. He was trying to kiss her!

"H-hey!" she stuttered, pushing him away. "Knock it off!" Tifa hopped off the fence and quickly bent to pick up her bag. What just happened? Thomas was her friend, right? Why would he try to do something like that? Face hot with embarrassment, Tifa just wanted to get away as quickly as possible and process her feelings about all this.

Startled, Thomas watched her with wide eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I promised Cloud I'd meet him," she said, averting her eyes.

Thomas frowned as she moved to walk away, "What's wrong? You're not locking lips with him, are ya?"

Tifa's chest puffed up in offense and she slung her satchel over her shoulder, "No, I'm not! Leave me alone, Thomas! I'm going back."

The boy watched her stride away, confused. He and Tifa had been friends for years! How could she turn him away so easily? Her laugh and smile had enchanted him since she had first started school and he was always sure to play with her, even though she no longer attended school. Without his companionship, she'd just be Cloud's loser friend. He was the popular one, everyone wanted to be around him. How could Tifa blow off the chance to kiss him?

Did she really prefer that loner Cloud? Tucking his slingshot into his pocket, he threw a rock across the clearing in frustration. He'd have to change that.

A/N: I am so happy to have such kind reviewers! Thank you for faithfulness in reading this story. Here's a secret: I already have 41 chapters written, but I don't allow myself to post a chapter until I finish writing the a new one. In other words, once I finish chapter 42, I'll post chapter 20. xD Along with your feedback, it helps keep me motivated to eventually finish this long story. I was certain of the entire plot before I started writing, but little details get me stuck sometimes.

Looking forward to hearing from you! I hope you are enjoying this fic. :)