CHAPTER 27: EVERYTHING AND NOTHING

The stars were endless in the night sky, stretching out past the mountain tops. A cool breeze tugged at Tifa's long hair, warning of autumn's arrival. She smiled as she sat next to Cloud, smoothing her skirt over her lap. He had big news to tell her and she couldn't wait! Tifa was sure it was good news, for her friend wore an awkward smile across his face as he fidgeted beside her. There were only a handful of things that her closest companion would appear so nervous to talk about and love was one of them. Tifa felt a bubble of excitement rise in her chest. Although the thought of Cloud being in love with her was new and exciting, she couldn't help but hear her father's voice echoing in her head. No one will want you as a bride. Tifa understood that she was nothing to desire. But just maybe, Cloud would disagree. He knew her inside and out and still chose to be her friend. She had done nothing to deserve his kindness and yet there he was, giving her hope day after day. Tifa remembered a time when she was afraid to get married, back in the days where she knew contentment and happiness. But now all she knew were feelings of emptiness and the gnawing desire for fulfillment and acceptance.

"So, what did you need to tell me in the middle of the night?" She giggled as she ran her hands through her sleep mused hair.

Beside her, Cloud exhaled through his nose and clasped his fidgeting hands in his lap. He had to do it fast before he lost his nerve. He clenched his fists so his hands wouldn't tremble. "I should've told you months ago. Tifa, I'm leaving Nibelheim tomorrow."

His words hit her like a bullet in the chest. "What?"

The boy swallowed thickly before continuing, "I'm going to Midgar to join ShinRA and become a SOLDIER. Tifa, I want to be a hero." I want to be your hero.

The breath had left her lungs and wouldn't return. Fear burst from her core and spread to the tips of her limbs. The one who she loved was leaving for greater things and a better life. Tifa had been able to summon bravery in the face of her father's assaults on her body and her character through the sense of worth her relationship with Cloud brought forth. Without his presence and quiet encouragement, how could she withstand Papa's furies? She'd be going into battle without a shield, a tiny ship tossed about on stormy seas without a harbor to shelter her. It wasn't until that moment that Tifa realized how much she feared being alone. Time and circumstances beyond her control had slowly plucked people she loved out of her life, but she had never been able to imagine a future without Cloud in it.

She released her breath slowly to try to ward off the rising panic.

Tifa looked at their interlocked fingers and a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Hand in hand they had faced the unknown perils of starting school, gotten lost and even made known the fragile parts of their hearts. Every step they had taken to mature, Cloud had been there with a reassuring grip on her hand. If this was the last time she'd feel the curling of his fingers against her palm, Tifa wasn't sure how she could find the strength to press forward.

"T-tomorrow? You're leaving tomorrow?" Tifa asked, eyes still focused on the way his hand swallowed her smaller one. She hated how her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Yeah. Tifa, I'm sorry. I didn't know how sudden it would be, but the train won't wait! It'll take me a week or so to get there, then I can start my training in the SOLDIER program. I'm going to be as strong as Sephiroth, the great hero of the war with Wutai!"

Realization drew her eyes into wide circles. Welling anger made her nostrils flare and she looked up at his face hopeful face. He was joining ShinRA. Cloud was abandoning her to join ShinRA, of all things. How could she have been so blind all this time? For years, her playmate would go on and on about Sephiroth and SOLDIER, though honestly she had never paid much attention to his boyish ramblings about violent glory on the battlefield. SOLDIER was a branch of the same military that killed her grandparents and caused her mother so much grief. A long time ago, her father had told her that Mama's sadness over their death had made it difficult for her to overcome the illness that put her in the grave. If Cloud was right and Tifa wasn't at fault for Lia's death, maybe ShinRA was to blame.

"No, Cloud! You can't join ShinRA, they're no good!" She ripped her hand out of his and Cloud flinched. "That company is full of bad people!"

"You don't know that!" He countered, desperation blooming in his voice. "They provide electric power to help people and they protect us from our enemies. Besides, I want to train to be strong. I didn't like it when you started training with Zangan but it was what you wanted and it made you happy. Going to Midgar and learning to be a hero is something I need to do."

The earnest look on his face did little to quell her insecurity.

"Please trust me, Tifa."

Selfishness and fear coiled around her heart and tightened her chest. The intensity of Cloud's unwavering blue eyes hampered her ability to form the words to express the anxiety, dread and betrayal that she felt. He wanted her to trust him. Master Zangan had taught her the qualities of trustworthy people and Cloud had always fit that description perfectly. His loyalty had never once wavered through the ups and downs of their less than perfect lives. This moment presented her with a choice: what kind of person did she want to be? Swallowing her fear for the moment, Tifa looked him straight in the eye. Right now, she'd decide to focus on her trust in him over her hatred for ShinRA.

"I believe in you, Cloud." The girl's rich crimson eyes met his pale ones and Cloud felt heat creep onto his cheeks. "I trust you."

When he was honest with himself, Cloud knew he was trying his best to be tough and pretend he was strong in the face of his bold decision to leave home. At fourteen, he was becoming an adult but he seldom felt much like one-especially when the thought of being without his mother's kind smile and the sound of Tifa playing the piano each night stole away his courage. He wanted Tifa to see that he was brave and capable, a fine choice for a life partner if he ever got the nerve to ask her to be his wife. How could he explain to her that he wasn't just leaving to fulfill his own dreams, but to come back having earned enough credentials to impress her father enough to allow for the possibility of marrying her?

He couldn't tell her his plans for that; he didn't want to get her hopes up. Tifa had suffered too many disappointments in her life—the last thing he wanted to do was give her the expectation of wedding rings and a honeymoon and never be able to follow through. Mr. Lockhart would most likely do whatever it took to keep him away from his daughter. Until he was confident that he could impress the man, Cloud would have to take care to keep his intentions to himself.

Tifa anxiously tugged at her hair, but didn't remove her gaze from him. There was excitement and anticipation in Cloud's words, but his eyes told an entirely different story. Was he nervous? Neither of them had ever left the mountain. Although the thought of life elsewhere beckoned both children out of their melancholy little world in the village, it was frightening to go out on one's own. She wanted so badly to go with him. They could run far away from this place and everything that had ever hurt them. Together they could start new, where condescending eyes and merciless stares could no longer weigh them down. She could escape her father's wrath and the empty life she led if only he'd just ask her to come along with him. But he didn't. The desperation in her heart screamed at her to beg him to take her with him, but shyness and insecurity stitched her lips shut. If he wanted her with him, he would ask, right?

Cloud moved to reclaim her hand in his and let out a breath before speaking once again. "I'll come back for you, Tifa. We can both get out of here. You have my word."

A vague smile visited her face. Trustworthy people keep their promises, even the small ones. Hours stretched forth in silence as they held each other close, praying that the sun wouldn't rise.

When orange sky first began to appear on the horizon, Tifa let Cloud help her off the water tower. Her hands and feet felt much weaker than they did just hours ago when she had run out to meet him, filled with giddiness and that foolish thing called hope. The boy was due to meet the cobbler at his wagon at first light, but he walked her home anyway. Cloud embraced her for long minutes with words of comfort, but all Tifa could feel was numbness. She nodded when he asked if she'd be alright and tried to smile when he promised to write to her often. His hands felt heavy in hers until time pulled him away and he sealed his goodbye a chaste kiss to her forehead. She watched him walk out of her life by his own conation.

It was only when his golden, wayward spikes disappeared from sight that Tifa allowed burning tears to pool in her eyes and flow in endless streams down her face. She quietly turned to enter her house, floating up the stairs like a ghost. Her life seemed to be caving in around her and she was helpless to hold even the pieces of her own heart together. ShinRA had stolen yet another precious person from her side and the thought of waking up each morning without the comfort of knowing Cloud was right next door terrified her.

Tifa was grateful that Papa was still asleep, his door shut against the early morning sunlight of the window in the corridor. The darkness from the crack under his bedroom door told her that he had shut the blinds to allow him to sleep as long into the day as he liked. Hopefully he wouldn't bother her for a while. Her father's disdain for Cloud was obvious and the man surely wouldn't bat an eyelash at his departure. Did he know how much Cloud meant to her? He wasn't just her playmate or her best friend. In recent months, she'd come to realize that her childhood affection for the boy had blossomed into romantic devotion. She loved him. How could she live without him?

Fatigue pulled at her eyes and her body felt heavy with grief. When Cloud let go of her hands, she felt as if she'd been set adrift. Her friend had cut the tether holding her to him and now Tifa felt insignificant and lost. She yearned for any sense of control in her life. She longed for a purpose and a direction. Maybe if she found a way to be significant like Cloud did, she'd be able to climb out of the hole of worthlessness that she had dug for herself over the years.

The foggy memories of being fussed over as she held onto her mother's skirts in town square meant little to her. Tifa didn't need the approval of the villagers to be happy. But she did want so badly to make her father proud of her. She remembered bygone days where he'd come home from cutting lumber and bounce her on his knee and endlessly read books to her next to the hearth. Tifa recalled how loved she felt when Papa rubbed her head or called her his sweet pea. She missed the way his beard prickled as he blew raspberries on her plump little cheek. Were those times ever real? Was her heart ever full and content with her mother's warmth and father's devotion? It all seemed like a far off dream.

Gently, Tifa laid herself face down on her bed and felt something solid hit her ankle. It was her jingle bell. Her abdomen twisted and ached as she fixed her carmine eyes on the little piece of metal. The twine was limp as it hung over the sill of her window and out into the morning air as September drew to its close.

… … …

It was well into the afternoon when the girl stirred from her resting place atop her comforter. Autumn sunlight illuminated the whites of the walls and glinted off the glass candle holder atop the piano across from her bed. Her beautifully carved little wooden horse sat next to it, and Tifa numbly stared at the way the direct sunlight turned the color of the heartwood to a rich, reddish brown. Cloud was gone. It seemed like years ago that she had lain on this very bed in a mourning dress of black lace, wishing with all her might that she could turn back time and somehow prevent the loss of one she was sure she couldn't live without. Her whole body felt weighted to the mattress; the only thing she had the strength to move was her eyelids as they lazily blinked in the light.

The walls of her happy home had begun to cave in on her long ago, but that didn't make adjusting to each further crumble of her comfort any easier. Tifa breathed into her pillow, slow and even; crying never brought any solace or solution. She tried not to think of the fact that she'd have to live without the sight Cloud's crooked little smile, the freckles dotting the bridge of his nose, his beautiful golden hair or his strikingly blue eyes. The thought of it cast aching bruises on her heart and made her stomach ache. It made it ache a lot. Dull pain seared through her belly in waves but it was nothing compared to the painful clenching of her heart.

Her world felt so small compared the adventures that Cloud would now experience. The shy little boy of her childhood with the big eyes and timid spirit had been chased away by a lean, lanky young man with big dreams and lofty ambitions that lead him far, far away from her. Loneliness closed in on her and Tifa gritted her teeth. ShinRA was to blame. They took her mother's happiness, killed her grandparents and stole one of her only confidences from her. It was easier to point the finger at the giant company than to think that she wasn't important enough to Cloud to keep him in her life. Life had taught the girl that it was certainly unfair, and Tifa thought that she should expect to never hear from him again. If he fought in the war, he might die. If he survived, he'd be a hero—a big deal in a big city. But Cloud had promised that he'd come back and he'd never broken a promise to her before. And this was the most important vow he had ever made to her.

If Cloud didn't come back, she wasn't sure what she would do with her life. The thought of spending the rest of her life suffocating under her father's thumb made her feel as if death was a better alternative. Maybe death would free her from sadness as it did her mother. She wasn't afraid to die. Her fists grasped tightly at her comforter, her elbows locked straight as she did her best to hold in screams. Tifa's insides continued their lament as well, sending twisting pain in the lowest parts of her belly. Just yesterday morning, everything had seemed so normal. And now her world had been flipped upside down, just like that. Nothing would ever be as it had once been. She didn't want this. Tifa had sought happiness for so long and just when she thought that maybe she could find a bright future with a certain blonde headed boy, hope had been snatched away again.

Downstairs, floorboards creaked under the weight of her father's boots. He would be wanting his supper soon, Tifa knew, and would be cross if he knew she had been too absorbed in self-pity to fix a meal for him. She forced herself to her feet, almost doubling over from the instant flash of stabbing pain in her pelvis. After hobbling to her wardrobe to pick out a fresh frock, she lifted her wrinkled blue dress over her head and bent to change her underwear. Tifa gasped when she saw it—a thin smearing of blood across the crotch of the little white garment. Running her hands over the inside of her thighs, she looked for a scrape or cut in vain. A small, frightened sob escaped her lips—she was bleeding from inside! Was she sick? This wasn't an injury you could bandage from the outside like a skinned knee or scraped knuckles. What if she bled so much that she died? Fear forced her limbs to tremble and she swallowed thickly at the thought of bleeding out from such an intimate part of her. Embarrassment flared in her chest at the thought of telling her father about it.

Maybe she was afraid to die, after all.

… … …

It fascinated Claudia how much the absence of one person could completely change the atmosphere of the house, the village and her world. She ran the rough bristles of the broom underneath her son's bed before stripping away layer of blankets and linens. Cloud had taken most of his meager belongings with him, packing them into a backpack of worn leather. She had insisted Cloud take the pack with him when he declined her offer to take Aren's gun along for safetly. That bag was one of the only remaining items of his father's belongings.

Before her son had left to begin his journey eastward, Claudia knew that he would be taking a hefty amount of her heart with him. Cloud had been the light of her life, her very reason for putting on a brave face and smiling in the face of their poverty and the quiet scorn of their fellow villagers. Her bright eyed child had been the best gift that she had ever been given. Through him, the young mother had found the strength to go on after being turned out of her parents' house and facing the tragedy of Aren's death. Sometimes, in the stillness of sleepless nights, Claudia found herself pondering if her best was good enough for Cloud. She had been struggling under the burden of taking on the role of two parents since the two of them arrived in the mountains, desperate for welcoming arms and a new start.

The circumstances surrounding Cloud's conception made it seem like it was meant to be. One night alone with Aren was all it took to send her life spiraling out of control. Frequently, the faces of her mother and father haunted her dreams and she constantly wondered if things would've turned out differently if she had returned to them once Aren died. Would they have felt pity for their only grandchild once they had seen how weak and small he was for his age? Would they have fallen in love with his handsome little face and the trademark blue eyes of a Strife child? Would they have felt sorry for her after hearing her story and realizing how high the odds were stacked against a young mother and a frail undersized baby? They just as well may have shut the door in her face.

When she left her parent's house for a happy life with Aren and their baby on the southern prairie, Claudia had ended up on a winding trail of heartache and isolation. Like she had done, Cloud had chosen his path with idealistic expectations of a better life in the biggest city on the planet. For years, she had noticed that there was always something pulling Cloud away from their foggy home hidden deep in the seldom travelled mountains. He was meant for better things, she was sure of it. The woman had never seen Midgar, but had heard of its corruption and how rough around the edges city folk were. She had tried her best to warn him about that, but she couldn't help but worry. Cloud was tough; he had grown up in a hostile environment and was accustomed to unfriendly people. His bravado was fragile and bourne of excitement, mostly. Hopefully the reality of the struggles he would inevitably face wouldn't hit him too hard.

Oh, how she wished she could have gone with him, although she doubted there was little she could do to protect him. Every time she caught a glimpse of his broad shoulders and sinewy build, she'd sigh with pride and wistful sadness. Cloud was growing up.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a frantic knock at her front door.

"Ms. Strife? Ms. Strife, are you there?" a soft voice called with frantic urgency. "Please, may I come in?"

She recognized Tifa's voice at once. The woman immediately laid the bedclothes down on Cloud's mattress and descended the stairs. Maybe the girl was just as upset as she was about her son's departure. She opened the door to tussled black strands and puffy crimson eyes that were heavy with fright. Her apron had been sloppily tied over a rumpled brown pinafore.

"Oh, Tifa." Claudia said with pity and surprise. "Please, come in."

Timidly, the Lockhart girl crossed the threshold with bare feet and Claudia led her to have a seat at the kitchen table. She gently slid a hand over the crown of Tifa's head before moving it to tilt the girl's chin upwards. Hesitantly, Tifa met her neighbor's calming blue eyes.

"What happened? Are you alright, sweetheart?"

"N-no," Tifa stammered, shying away and folding her arms on the table before pressing her face into her sleeves. Her words were quiet and muffled. "I think I'm g-going to die."

"What?" the blonde asked, cocking her head.

"I'm bleeding!" Tifa said, the words trembling out of her throat. Claudia looked the seemingly healthy girl over from head to toe before realizing what was happening.

"Are you bleeding from your private place?" the woman asked with a mother's tenderness. Tifa's face flushed with embarrassment and she forced herself to look at Cloud's mother before managing a small nod. "Oh, honey, it's normal. It's alright!"

Claudia felt so foolish. Tifa had been a regular visitor in her house for years now, yet she never thought about informing the growing girl about her changing body. With her mother dead and her father seeming aloof and unwilling to volunteer such information to his daughter, Claudia couldn't expect anyone to teach the girl these things. She bent to embrace Tifa, wrapping her arms around her trembling frame.

"Don't worry, it's just part of growing up. It happens to all of us girls."

Tifa blinked open her moist eyes. "It does?"

"Oh, yes. It's a sign that your body is getting ready to have babies. The blood comes from your womb, where maybe one day a baby will grow."

"Why is my womb bleeding if there's nothing wrong with it?" the girl asked, wiping unruly strands of black hair from her face. Claudia turned to pluck a dress she had been making off her sewing table. A handful of straight pins loosely secured a slip under the skirt where the seamstress had left off. She turned it so that Tifa could see the skirt clearly.

"Inside your womb, there's a thick, soft lining made of blood vessels." Claudia lifted the skirt to reveal the slip underneath. "Even when a lady isn't going to have a baby, the womb keeps itself ready, just in case. Every month, your body builds a lining, waiting for a baby to grow there."

Tifa ran her hand over the soft material of the underskirt, imagining the fascinating things going on inside her. Her body was ready to have a baby?

"When there's no baby, the lining falls out and slowly comes out of your private place." Claudia tugged the slip free of its straight pins, sliding it out from underneath the skirt as an illustration. Tifa watched with new understanding and the blonde woman smoothed her dark strands where they fell over her back. "It may hurt a little in your belly, but it's not dangerous and I promise it happens to every woman when they grow up!"

"It happens every month?" TIfa wasn't sure she wanted to deal with this discomfort every four weeks or so, even if it meant that she was becoming a woman.

"That's right. It only stops if a baby is growing in there, though sometimes it can skip a month if you're ill or stressed out. Until you have a baby, you'll bleed a little bit every month. There's no reason to worry. Did you use anything to catch the blood?" Tifa's cheeks pinkened once again.

"A washcloth, "she confessed quietly. "I put it in my underwear."

"Rags work just as well. Let me show you how you can roll cotton to use instead if you want."

The afternoon stretched quietly into the evening as Claudia instructed Tifa in different methods to manage her menstruation and was relieved for the distraction, for they avoided talking much about Cloud's departure. Claudia was relieved, for she wasn't ready to discuss it. For some reason, it had been easier to give Tifa the awkward speech about her menstrual cycle than talk about her son. It was the second time she had given that talk and Cloud had acted much more flustered and embarrassed than the Lockhart girl had. The black haired teen sat curled up on her couch, seeming much calmer as she sipped her mug of hot tea. Claudia smiled, for just as the parting of her son had left her feeling as if she had little purpose, Tifa had shown her that there was another child who needed mothering.

"Ms. Strife?" the girl asked, shifting on the cushion.

"Hm?"

"How does a baby get in a womb?"

There was much more mothering to be done, indeed.