What It Means To Be Living

by The-Ocean-Deep

If Cloud and Tifa were close friends as children, would their lives really have been that different? This story follows the early days of their lives up until the beginning of FFVII.

30. Life Line

CHAPTER 30: LIFE LINE

It had become a daily ritual. Every morning after her lessons, Tifa would pick up the newspaper from the printer's shop, run to the lobby of the inn to retrieve any mail from the Lockhart cubby on the back wall and rush home to read the paper as she ate her lunch. Although she liked to be informed about the outside world, she had two other reasons for taking in the words from bold headline to the last period on the printed broadsheet. Tifa had begun to realize the importance of practicing her reading skills, which were mediocre at best. But perhaps the true reason lay in the hope that maybe, if she looked hard enough, she'd find some mention of Cloud. There had been no word from her friend since he spread his fledgling wings and flew away from this dead end place. It made her flounder in a mix of concern for his wellbeing and despair that he was off experiencing the world while she remained trapped in her bird cage, singing a weak and lonesome song that fell on deaf ears.

The nights summoned swirling, turbulent thoughts that kept her awake in the old, quiet house. Cloud had been such a blinding light in her life. Now that he was gone, Tifa felt as if she was stumbling around in the dark, grasping for some sort of meaning to her existence. The man who had once called her sweet pea had become a stranger in the shell of her father, a shadow that constantly teetered between silent melancholy and intoxicated anger. Mama wasn't much more than a fond, faded memory and a vision of an angel buried under snow and soil. Ms. Strife's kindness and warmth gave Tifa a sense of belonging that otherwise eluded her; the lonesome shadows in the eyes of the blonde woman were always chased away by the promise of her company and some hot tea. But the one thing that made the girl feel like she had purpose was her training. After the departure of the boy who held her heart in his hands, she poured herself into her lessons without restraint. Master Zangan's praises and the pride in his eyes quenched the burning dryness of her spirit. She was learning to protect herself and others. Maybe someday, she could take on a pupil and teach them everything Zangan taught her—carrying on the cycle of master and apprentice. The thought of being as important to someone as Zangan was to her was intoxicating.

Above all else, though, Tifa knew that the one thing that pushed her forward most was Cloud's promise to return.

Kicking snow off Mama's boots, she headed into her empty home and banked the fire in the stove before sitting at the table. Flicking black locks over her shoulder, Tifa set the newspaper aside to sift through the three envelopes first. The first was addressed to her father, as was the second. An electric bill and a water bill—they came at the beginning of every month. Crimson eyes widened as she saw the third envelope had her name on the front, printed in messy black scrawl. The air left her lungs when she looked to the return address:

Cadet Strife, C.
ShinRA Headquarters, Block C
Unit 100105
966887, Sector 0, Midgar

Frantically, the envelope was torn into and shaking fingers unfolded the sheets of paper. Not too long ago, Cloud had held these very pages, and that thought alone made her feel reconnected with him. Tifa didn't realize she had been holding her breath until she decided to read his letter out loud.

εγλ 0001, January 7

Dear Tifa,

I hope you had a happy New Year's celebration. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write to you but things have been so busy and I haven't been allowed to send any letters until now. I'm working for ShinRA, but I didn't get to try out for the SOLDIER program yet. After I got to Midgar, I enrolled in the military and spent two weeks in new recruit orientation and the next four weeks in boot camp. Boot camp was so difficult that my muscles still hurt from the drills. Sometimes it hurt to breathe during the running and endurance tests, but I made it! I bet you could pass the strength and agility exams, no problem!

The sergeants evaluate us during boot camp and place us where they feel we'd fit best. I was placed in the infantry and just started as a cadet in that curriculum. There are twenty five other cadets in the barracks where I sleep. Everything is so different in Midgar. I haven't seen a single candle since I've been here—all the lights and appliances are electric and run by mako energy. I was even given a little telephone that I keep in my pocket called a PHS that I can use to make calls and read any assignments the company sends me. The food here is strange and there are so many people everywhere! Sometimes it's so crowded out on the streets that it makes me uncomfortable.

How are you doing? I hope you are staying warm and that your dad finally remembered to cut you some firewood. Take care of yourself, Tifa. I know you're upset that I'm working for the ShinRA Company, but I've got a plan. It means a lot that you told me you believe in me…I won't let you down.

Hope this letter finds you well.

Cloud

P.S. I almost forgot! Tifa, I saw the sea and it is every bit as magnificent as your mother said. One day, I promise to take you to see it.

She was surprised when a drop of moisture hit the paper, blurring the ink of his signature. In the few months that he had been gone, she had missed him terribly. But it wasn't until he had reached out to her from a world away that Tifa realized just how much her heart bled for him. Since Cloud had gone, she had felt like a child lost on a lake in the fog. Hazy and undefined, the days somehow kept rolling into nights. Blood rushed to her face as she recalled swirling autumn leaves and the dancing dappled sunlight upon his skin as he leaned closer to place his lips upon hers. She didn't realize she had been smiling until after the third time she read through Cloud's clumsy scrawl.

Tifa carefully folded Cloud's letter and placed it neatly inside its envelope. With light steps, she floated up the stairs and into her bedroom. Slowly, slender fingers ran along the tomes on little wooden bookshelf beside the wardrobe. Tugged free by its well-worn spine, the girl flipped through the pages of her old book of elementary piano sheet music; the letter would be safe from her father's prying eyes if she hid it among the lines of cheerful notes. Tifa wasn't sure what Papa would think if she knew Cloud had sent her a letter, so it felt best to err on the side of caution when it came to something so precious. She had flipped to the middle of the book when she saw a relic of another life pressed between the pages.

The day of her sixth birthday, the new spring grass in the yard had felt lush and soft under her bare feet. She had spent the afternoon playing with her mother near the garden and the pair had come upon a four leaf clover. Mama had explained that it meant good luck—especially when found on a birthday—and together they had gone upstairs to preserve it by pressing it between the pages of the music book. Tifa hadn't thought about it since then. But there it sat, still green and whole with delicate dips and intricate webs of veins in each leaf. So many things in her life had changed since then, even the way she looked. But the clover was still as vibrant and charming as the day it had been enclosed in its paper tomb, promising brightness and good fortune. Her eyes traced the gentle curve of the stem. They were complete opposites, she and the clover. Her entire existence had changed so drastically since that day almost a decade ago while the tiny plant had stayed the same.

Tifa brushed a leaf with her fingertips and it crumbled into little flakes across the printed notes.

… … …

He was late for lunch. His blue infantry uniform was sopping wet, hanging heavily off his slight frame. Unruly blonde spikes sagged with the weight of the water and wet socks made a squishing sound in his boots with each step. Ears red from embarrassment, Cloud was leaving a trail of water droplets on the waxed floors of the academy, winding a trail behind him to the cafeteria.

When he had failed to meet the requirements to even audition for SOLDIER, any small male ego he had had been crushed. Cloud had no choice but to accept any available employment with ShinRA for survival's sake, and for a small chance to still have a shot at accomplishing his goal.

He was the youngest and smallest of his barrack mates but also the smartest, which turned out to be a dangerous combination. The fourteen year old had earned the highest scores on their written entry exams. Once the others found out about Cloud's achievement, the bullies made themselves known. When their instructor had praised cadet Strife for his score on their test in strategy class that morning, the blonde knew that there would be trouble. After class, three of his squad mates had cornered him in the courtyard, throwing his books to the ground and grabbing the short, thick hair at the crown of his head. In that moment, Cloud was grateful that military protocol required his hair to be shorn prior to boot camp. Now that it was growing back, but his harassers had much less to work with than before. They had held his head underwater in the courtyard's fountain for over a minute before letting him up for air. Then, the biggest of his attackers had picked him up and tossed him into the deep basin, soaking him from head to boots.

Cloud shouldn't have ever worried about feeling homesick, for he was still isolated and bullied. He was still teased for his name and physique alongside his academic prowess. These bullies didn't need to know that he had no father to treat him so poorly. Cloud had been small since birth and was still struggling to catch up to his peers, so he was an easy target for physical harassment. But unlike his situation in Nibelheim, Cloud wouldn't dare raise his fists in defense. Despite the fighting fundamentals he had learned from Tifa, this time his aggressors were stronger and much more skilled than that arrogant Thomas and his cronies. Besides, he'd never be able to make it into SOLDIER if he was written up for fighting. A prime SOLDIER candidate had a clear permanent record.

Quietly, Cloud entered the mess hall, hoping to go unnoticed. He grabbed a plastic tray and let the cafeteria staff ration food onto his plate, ignoring their raised eyebrows at his soggy disposition. The room was packed with soldiers of multiple factions and ranks. The farthest table on the right was always mostly unoccupied, and it was there that Cloud had frequently sat. He snuck over to his usual spot and plopped next to a fellow cadet with wavy auburn hair. Carter was a friendless loser like he was, but in the sixteen year old's case he was picked on for more than just his slight frame. The wiry teen's blasé attitude towards his academic and physical challenges combined with his mild cynicism toward ShinRA had made him almost as much of a target for harassment as Cloud was. Cloud supposed that was why they had bonded.

"Hey," Cloud greeted in a neutral tone.

"Hey."

Carter stole a sideways glance at his flaxen haired companion. "What happened to you?"

"I got a perfect score on my strategy exam."

"Oh."

Cloud surveyed the food on his tray with mild interest, mouth watering at the cut of steak. Some of the cadets would groan at the food they were given, but Cloud had been so happy to learn that he got to eat meat every day! At home, meat was so expensive that he and Mom had to go without it unless they could catch a fish or rabbit themselves. Despite his gratitude, Cloud was often perplexed at the foreign food items he was given to eat here in Midgar. Exotic fish from the ocean or strange types of breads had broadened the horizons of his palate and he happily cleaned his plates, for he knew what it was like to trudge through long winters with little to eat but potatoes and preserved carrots.

"What's this?" Cloud prodded at a cluster of greens with his fork.

"Escarole. And the white bits are bok choy, before you ask," Carter informed with an amused smirk as he bit another hunk out of his roll.

Growing up in a suburb twenty miles or so south of Midgar, the other boy had become an unexpected source of information about life in the area and Cloud absorbed any helpful tidbits of survival in this unfamiliar place like a sponge. Carter watched a drop of water drip from a blonde spike onto the wooden table surface.

"I scored thirty seven percent. I guess that's why no one came to bother me."

"Yikes…" Cloud would've grimaced in sympathy, but he knew Carter could care less.

"Yeah, Dad'll freak. I hope they kick me out before the summer."

"Keep shooting for the stars!" Cloud's voice cracked as he let out a chuckle. Carter grinned.

"Then I'll have my excuse to take that banking job out east. Dad'll learn that forcing his kids into his failed dreams doesn't get anyone anywhere."

Cloud swirled the water in his glass with his straw. If his father was alive, would he have forced him to be a gunsmith? Mom had always told him that Aren was a cheerful and easy going, so it was hard to picture Dad trapping him in any career path. In fact, it was hard to picture his father at all. If he closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could almost see dark stubble on a stubborn jaw and a flash of white teeth from an enormous grin. The memory of calloused hands rubbing his head and being held in strong arms were so blurry and faded that Cloud was unsure if he was recalling things that really were or if they were just intricate details of his imagination. The thought made him feel empty, so he changed the subject.

"I heard we were going off grounds for training today. I wonder what they have planned."

"Probably some sort of crowd control drill."

The ambient murmur of dozens of conversations and clanking silverware grew louder when the door flew open and a flood of second and third class SOLDIERS poured into the room, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Over the past few months, Cloud had learned that it was in his best interest to try to go unnoticed by the elite group. They were haughty, sarcastic and self-righteous for the most part. Quick to gloat and prey on those of lower rank, he loathed being in their presence. Didn't any of those brutes have the discipline of mind to derive such a high rank? It's a shame they didn't filter SOLDIER candidates through a maturity test before promoting them. Cloud decided that when he became a SOLDIER, he'd be serious and honorable like the great Sephiroth.

After getting their food, the herd of brawn and bravado headed towards the pair of misfits. Cloud and Carter ducked their heads in dread as the SOLDIERs descended upon them, closing their eyes against the sound of trays plopping on the table.

Why did they have to sit here?

Members of SOLDIER received three times the food ration of normal military personnel. Apparently, the mako treatments they underwent after promotion boosted their metabolism as well as their strength, speed and senses. If one looked closely, their otherworldly blue eyes let off an eerie glow as mako pulsed through their bodies. Cloud let himself breathe when they fell into conversation amongst themselves, barely seeming to notice the pair of scrawny cadets. Stealing a surreptitious glance out of the corner of his eye, Cloud counted seven of them, most dressed in the blue uniform of a third class SOLDIER. There was only one who sported the dark purple attire of a second class SOLDIER, and his lively grin and messy black spikes looked familiar. Cloud quickly drew his eyes back to his plate when realization hit. That was the same guy he had seen outside the ShinRA building walking with a first class SOLDIER, all those months ago!

"Can you believe it? They're pawning off the cannon fodder on us!"

"That Tuesti fellow sure ticks me off! He wants more security for crime in the slums, but why do we have to train the greenhorns?"

"Babysitting wasn't in my contract! Their sergeants should teach them."

The sandy haired third class that sat beside Cloud elbowed the blonde cadet. "We don't have time to be looking after chumps like these, right Zack?"

Carter kept his head down and Cloud frowned at his tray. The second class SOLDIER seemed disinterested in complaining and determined to focus on shoving food in his mouth.

"No amount of complaining will change it, Brett," Zack said, straightening his back to look his colleague in the face. "What did you get assigned to?"

Brett huffed with annoyance. "I've got to take the cadets in block E to Sector Six and teach them their patrol routes."

"Ha!" Zack bellowed with an enormous grin. "I'd hate to be you! Your lackeys are going to get distracted by the chicks in Wall Market! I'm taking block C to Sector Seven."

Cloud's ears perked up; he was in block C. He was going to learn from a second class SOLDIER! If he could look past the nonchalance of the black haired teen, maybe he could gain any bit of insight on how to stack the odds in his favor when it came to auditioning to be a part of the SOLDIER program. He remembered how dirty and desolate the slums had been when he had come to Midgar in the bed of Gareth's truck—a sky-less world infested with filth and hopelessness. Cloud hoped he'd never have to venture down there again. It seemed like with his position as a grunt in the infantry, he would be getting much more acquainted with the dark world below the plate.

… … …

εγλ 0001, January 28

Dear Cloud,

I'm so relieved to hear from you! I was hoping you got to Midgar safely, since it's so far away. Boot camp sounds tough and I'm glad your lungs were up to the challenge. You're getting stronger all the time! They gave you a phone that's small enough to fit in your pocket? That's amazing! The one at the inn is way too big for that. There seems to be a lot of amazing things in Midgar. Their technology is so advanced! Or maybe, we're just far behind up here in the mountains.

We've had more snow so far this winter than I can ever remember having. Papa says that he hasn't seen snow like this in over twenty years! It's been so cold that the water in the water tower has frozen solid! We have to heat up basins of snow for drinking and washing. It seems like forever since the sun came out—you know how the skies stay grey all winter long. Don't worry, I help your mom dig out of her house and I've cut enough firewood in the fall to last her until spring (if it ever comes). We keep each other company on most days. She told me that you write to her, too, and that she's proud of you. Do you get snow in Midgar?

I miss you so much, Cloud. It's been so lonesome without you. Your promise keeps me going, though. Wishing you luck!

Love,

Tifa

… … …

εγλ 0001, February 19

Tifa,

Thanks for looking after Mom. I sent her some gil to help pay for things, but she sent it right back. She says that I need to save for my future. I guess she's right but I just want to make sure she's taken care of.

When I'm not in class or training on the grounds, I'm on patrol duty inside the mako reactors or under the plate. The slums are an awful place to be. The air is so polluted that it smells terribly. It hurt to breathe at first, but now I'm used to it. The people down there are very poor. They can't even keep a garden to grow their own food because the plate blocks out the sunlight. All the food in Midgar is brought in from places outside the city. Weird, right? There are no farms, and barely any dirt. ShinRA HQ is on top of the plate. It's much more pleasant up here, with nicely paved streets and neatly dressed people. It's safer up here, too.

Both the upper plate and the slums are like a maze! I know my way around a little bit now, but when I was first taken under the plate to be shown my patrol route I was afraid to get lost or mugged or something. A second class SOLDIER named Zack led my block of cadets through our route. He's a nice guy—I guess I'm just lucky to have him assigned to our group since most of the SOLDIERs are immature and rude. I hope that when I become a SOLDIER, I can be just like him.

We are assigned to patrol in pairs. Monsters roam abandoned areas between sectors, but luckily I haven't run into too many yet. The nights are so cold as I walk the streets with my partner, even way over here in Midgar. The gloves the company gives us are too thin for this kind of weather. Within an hour I can barely feel my fingers on the metal of my rifle. Sometimes we get snow up on top, but the slums don't get any precipitation because the plate acts like a big umbrella. Strange, isn't it?

ShinRA headquarters has been busy lately. A group of terrorists called AVALANCHE have been making a lot of trouble and the higher ups have been discussing how to deal with them. There have been a lot of meetings, none of which I attend of course. The terrorists recently seized control of the big mako cannon in Junon, saying that harvesting mako is hurting the planet. Sephiroth was sent to deal with them. I don't think we'll be seeing the last of AVALANCHE any time soon. When ShinRA decides to send Sephiroth out to deal with a situation, you know it's important.

Do you think they're right about the planet?

Cloud

… … …

εγλ 0001, March 1

Cloud,

Has it been getting warmer? I know you're used to the cold from living up here in the mountains your whole life, but it makes me sad to think of patrolling the scary slums with frozen fingers. How do you protect yourself from the scary people? I hope you don't have to use your weapon on human beings.

It's been such a difficult winter. There's been snow much snow that we haven't even been able to trade with any nearby villages and have had to take caution to make sure to ration food properly. But everyone's fine, we're making out well for the most part. Papa has been cooped up in his workshop since the snow drifts are too high to bring out his sleigh to cut wood. Mrs. Nelson is due to have another baby next month, and he's been building her a lovely rocking chair. It's got fine carvings etched into the wooden backing and it sways back and forth so smoothly. I don't think I inherited his talent to use my hands for beautiful things. These days, my fists have been used for fighting monsters.

If what Zangan says is right, I think that AVALANCHE may have reason to think that way. Remember how the top of Mt. Nibel was grey and dead? Maybe it has something to do with the mako reactor up there. Papa used to cut wood up that way and over the years more and more of the plant life mountain has withered away. I'm afraid that one day, it'll reach Nibelheim and we won't be able to grow any food. You don't think that'll happen, do you?

Lately, so many monsters have been coming down from Mt. Nibel and threatening the village. Do you think hunger drives them down towards us? Part of me thinks this is scary and makes me worry about our safety, but another part of me finds a thrill in fighting alongside my teacher. I'm finally using my skills to protect people, just like I always wanted to do! Putting all my skills into action makes me realize why Zangan took so much care in teaching me all the little things that I didn't understand before. I hope you'll have a chance to use all the new skills you're learning in the military. But please, be safe.

Thank you for writing to me, I know it must be hard to find the time.

I miss you,

Tifa

… … …

εγλ 0001, March 23

Tifa,

Things have been busy but don't worry—I'lll always find time to write. It's so nice to get letters from you because it helps to remind me why I'm struggling along every day. I haven't really made many friends so staying connected with you, even if just by mail, reassures me that my best friend is still invested in me.

Physical training is tough, even after six months. The other cadets are older than me for the most part and they certainly aren't the friendliest bunch. In fact, most people in the city are distant and cold. On top of the plate, most ignore you when you pass by on the street. Weird, huh? What would be considered rude back home is just the norm, here. In the slums, I'm the one usually trying to avoid speaking to people. Those who live under the plate really don't like ShinRA. They think that the company is responsible for the state of poverty and disarray down there. I dread my patrol shifts because people see me in my uniform and immediately want to pick fights, even though my rifle is in plain view.

Don't tell Mom about that. She's got enough to worry about.

I just came back from my first big mission outside of Midgar. I was told that I was accompanying a SOLDIER operative to Modeoheim and to my surprise, it was Zack! I had my helmet on, hoping maybe he wouldn't recognize me from teaching my block their patrol routes. But when he told me he was from the middle of nowhere like we are, I finally found the courage to introduce myself. Zack had some business to take care of, and I tried to help but ended up being no match for our enemy—a rogue first class SOLDIER. After being injured, I blacked out and couldn't see what happened. Zack managed to take control of the situation and everything was alright in the end. I was so groggy after that! I barely remember the trip back to Midgar and before I knew it, I was in the infirmary. Don't worry, I'm just fine.

When I see how strong and confident Zack is, it inspires me to keep working hard toward my goal of being a SOLDIER, too. I want to be a hero like him, and Sephiroth too. Two first class SOLDIERS were just reported as killed in action. I'm sure you'll read about it in the papers. Now that I work for ShinRA, I'm beginning to see that what's published in the newspapers isn't always true. The company owns the press, so they can spin information any way they want. Scary, isn't it? ShinRA does a lot of things that they aren't proud of, then cover them up. Maybe your mother had the right idea about them.

You want me to be careful and you're the one fighting monsters with your fists? I can't beat monsters on my patrol without my rifle! You're doing so well and I'm proud of you. Is your father treating you alright? I worry about that. When I come back as a SOLDIER, I hope it'll change his opinion of me. I'm sorry it's taking me longer to get there than I thought. They said I need to gain weight before I can even apply for the audition. Winter is almost over, Tifa. Keep your chin up until then.

Don't forget—I love you.

Cloud

… … …

She read the last few lines of the letter over and over again, committing each word to memory. Tifa took her time as she neatly folded the letter and pulled the book of sheet music from the self so she could store it in her growing collection. Her soul sighed in contentment, for absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder. She had thought of Cloud constantly since he had left for his new life and had been so excited to know he had seen the ocean and wanted to take her there someday! Only being able to connect with someone by mail was as frustrating as it was romantic. She yearned to feel the press of his palm against hers or see that shy smile upon his face. But for now, the letters would have to do.

Guilt pricked at her heart every time she kept some of the grocery money to pay for the postage of her secret letters to Cloud, but this was important. Cloud was her hope for the future and the positivity of his letters gave her incentive to push through the grey atmosphere of her home and chase away the bitter chill of a hard, mountain winter.

Now early April, there was still snow on the ground that refused to melt and the temperature hovered just above freezing at midday. Tifa had been cooped up with her father more than usual due to the harshness of the season. Papa was drinking less, since many of the mountain roads had been closed off for weeks at a time with the accumulation of snow and alcohol was hard to purchase, even at the tavern. When he did drink, Tifa had learned to start playing piano until her fingers grew tired. Every time the notes danced through the house, the man stayed calm in his inebriation and usually ended up reading or falling asleep. In that respect Tifa was able to navigate through life with her father, watching over him like a hidden sentry, searching for behavior patterns to decide how best to chase away her father's demons. She wasn't sure if she was healing him or just keeping him subdued and sad rather than angry. Still, she'd drape their warmest blanket over him whenever she took her fingers off the keys to find him asleep in his chair.

Their house was empty of life and hope and peace, but Tifa still felt like she was suffocating.

Her feet took her to the landing and she called out, "Papa?"

No answer. He was gone.

She wandered into the workshop to make sure. Her father had told her that he wanted to marry her off when she turned fifteen, something normal by Nibelheim standards. But her choice for a groom was far away, across the sea. He told her he'd come back and she believed him. With her fourteenth birthday rapidly approaching, Papa would begin searching for marriage prospects. Tifa shivered at the thought of how he'd react if she told him that she was in love with the blonde that he loathed so much. Imagining being married to anyone but Cloud frightened her. It all seemed bleak, like it was useless to fight against the things that weighed on her spirit. Cloud was facing hardships with positivity, why couldn't she?

In the end, her relationship with Cloud had allowed Tifa to find some courage. It had been almost a year since the pair agreed to trading secrets freely without fear of judgement or rejection, but the distance and disconnect between them had made her confidence waver. Tifa didn't realize at first that she had closed herself up like a clam. In his letters, Cloud was honest and open about both good and bad things in his life, breaking his habit of hiding his weaknesses. Guilt pooled in her gut when she thought about how she hid the bad things from him: the agonizing emptiness in her heart, the nights she silently cried out for deliverance, the hollow feeling when she gripped that jingle bell in her palm and wondered if anything would ever be alright again. Tifa knew she was betraying that promise she had made, but she felt safest that way. Cloud's letters came regularly enough, but she was afraid that if she burdened him with too many of her problems that he'd stop writing all together. Why would he want to come back to her if all she did was fill her letters to him with the desperation that she felt?

And so, she strove to keep the content of her letters as lighthearted as possible.

The usual assortment of bottles littered the workspace, and she reached out to pick one up off the shelf. Whiskey was her favorite. Tifa had learned to swallow through the burn and she enjoyed how just a couple sips would make a slight pleasant haze blanket her mind and relax her heart. The fear of being caught or ending up in an angry rage kept her little tastings to a minimum; yet another dirty little secret that she hid from Cloud. She was learning quite a bit about alcohol. Papa would mix them together sometimes. He liked rum or bourbon with some hot apple cider to chase away the chill in his bones after helping to shovel snow. Ginger ale was a favored vessel for gin or vodka. Something in her was fascinated by the way a simple mixture of liquids could manipulate a person to tranquility or rage.

The smell of wood stain hung heavily in the air. On the workbench sat Papa's latest order, a large clock that was to run on battery power. She ran her fingers over the numbers, crafted in carefully carved birch wood and sanded to smooth perfection. Other odds and ends cluttered the room: a half finished coat rack, spare wagon wheels, an intricately carved coffee table, among other things. Her father had a purpose. His craft helped people in their daily lives in one way or another. Even though the man spent a good deal of his time sleeping or drinking alone, his talent had never died.

When one day, Papa grew old and died, the fruits of his skills would continue to be useful. As much as she loved learning martial arts from Zangan, Tifa wondered if she had chosen a meaningful craft to apprentice in. She examined her knuckles, bruised and scabbed from fighting off monsters in the icy cold. Would these hands ever make a difference in this world?

... ... ...

A/N: Is summer really almost over already? Between wifely duties, a full time job, and a half dozen other obligations, finding the time to write is a trial! But I've come to realize that it is such a wonderful stress reliever and is all worth it in the end.

A huge thank you to all who are kind enough to take the time to R&R!