Today my area was hit with both a hurricane and an earthquake, like one wasn't enough, and it's just been the cherry on top to my admittedly less-than-great week. But this chapter is done, so yay for that lol

As always, shoutout to silver_doe287 for editing 💙 Enjoy!

! Chapter Warnings: a creepy guy at a bar


The sun was bright and hot as it beat down on the road, which was little more than a thin, dusty trail nearly as parched as the sparse vegetation that lined it. Skeletal shrubs, shallow canyons, and rolling dunes dominated the landscape, while faraway mountains shimmered from the midday heat and cut a jagged edge into the horizon. Their dark peaks were a striking contrast against the cloudless sky.

Tifa thought it would be a pretty landscape to paint, if she was artistically inclined and wasn't concerned about dying from exposure. Beneath her, Rain's hooves clicked against the cracked earth with every step. When a stale breeze suddenly kicked up the dust, Rain turned towards it, loudly huffing.

Tifa leaned down and weakly patted her side. "Cid," she called, her voice a harsh croak. "How much longer?"

"Soon!" Cid's tone was nearly as biting as the constant swarm of flies. "I've told all y'all a thousand times already, we'll be at the thrice-damned outpost soon!"

"But you said that hours ago," Yuffie wailed from her own horse.

"So I miscalculated! But I'm tellin' ya now, we'll get there soon! "

"You're lying!" Yuffie's tone climbed to a screeching pitch, and even Rain flicked her ears in annoyance. "We're lost! We're going to die out here in this no-name, gods-forsaken, no-good rotten land!"

"No we're not!"

But Yuffie was no longer listening. "I knew I shouldn't have left home," she muttered as she mindlessly swatted the nearby flies. "I knew it. I could be swimming in the pond right now, or… or eating melon, drinking iced tea, playing in the river, or…"

"Shaddup!" Cid bellowed.

"You shaddap, you—" Yuffie's mouth worked, then she spit out, "–you flannel-mouthed, chiseling, chuckle-headed, gadabout coffee boiler!"

Vincent snorted into his sleeve while Cid made an outraged sound. "You call me a coffee boiler—"

While they argued, Tifa continued to scan the landscape. They had just made it to the top of a ridge, and from their new vantage point, she thought she could see train tracks glinting in the distance. She knew that the Golden Saucer railroad crossed way out here, and since the outpost Cid was guiding them towards was one of the few places it stopped at before reaching the city, she swept her gaze along the tracks in wild, desperate hope.

Then, after a few minutes of searching, she saw it— a small cluster of buildings nestled beneath two rocky hills. Despite the distance, she could clearly see that the town had seen better days. It was the same ruddy tan as the dirt it was founded on, its tin roofs shined dully beneath the bright sunlight, and there were no people wandering the single road as far as she could see.

But civilization was civilization, and Tifa exhaled a sigh of relief. "I see the outpost," she called, interrupting Cid mid-argument.

Cid's mouth snapped shut as his head swiveled to where she was pointing, as did the rest of the crew. Once he saw the outpost, he smirked and leaned back on his horse, looking every bit like he'd won something grand rather than narrowly escaping getting the entire crew lost in a barren wasteland. "See?" he drawled, glancing over his shoulder towards Yuffie. "Didn't I tell ya I knew where I was going?"

Yuffie only stuck her tongue out at him. As for Tifa, she was mostly just grateful for the resulting silence as they all turned their horses towards the town.


An hour later, Tifa had to admit that calling the handful of shacks a 'town' might have been a bit over-optimistic. There were only three buildings that made up the small outpost: a shipping center, a general goods store, and a saloon.

Of the three, the saloon was by far the largest. It was also the busiest. A small bell jingled as Tifa pushed open the rickety door, and she was immediately taken aback by the sheer volume of raucous laughter and conversation. Every stool was taken and every stained table was overflowing with rough-looking patrons— likely bounty hunters, the same as them. A few looked their way when they heard the bell ring, but one man in particular looked particularly closely. His dark eyes roamed up and down Tifa's frame as he smirked, and Tifa abruptly wanted to commit an act of violence… such as removing his eyes from his head and then punting his slack-jawed face across the floor.

Except we're here for answers, she reminded herself, not to start a stupid fights. She took a deep breath to calm herself, only for a sudden hand on her shoulder to startle her. She looked up to see Vincent standing by her side, and he gave her a slow nod in return. He must have noticed the slimy man as well. Though Tifa didn't need him to guard her, she appreciated the gesture all the same. It was nice having someone watch her back in a place like this.

"Finally, a real proper establishment," Yuffie declared, sauntering across the floor like she owned the building and the barkeep owed her rent. She elbowed her way into a seat at the bar, earning herself a few dirty glares that had Tifa wincing. "Ey, bartender!" she called over the conversations around her. "Give me something strong!"

"Give her milk," Cid corrected as he stood behind her.

"No! Listen to me, I want something strong. "

The bartender— a man with a large, scruffy beard— arched an eyebrow at their banter as he cleaned one of the glasses. Then he said, "The strong stuff costs ten thousand gil."

Yuffie's eyes flew wide. Cid choked. Even Vincent, who prided himself at being set apart from the general economy, was taken aback. Fifty gil was the usual cost of a cheap drink, whereas a nice bottle of whiskey could pass for a thousand, maybe two thousand if it was a particular brand. Ten thousand was just about unheard of.

"Why?" was the only response Tifa could manage.

Cid, finding his voice, added, "That's a highway robbery." He sounded a bit strangled. "Ten thousand… How the hell are you charging that much? You're an outpost, for Pete's sake. You get your damn shipments straight off the train, there ain't no payin' peoples' labor for hauling barrels across the desert. So why the hell…?"

In answer, the bartender jerked his thumb at the corkboard behind him. "Don't blame me, blame those bastards." The corkboard was filled with yellowed drawings of people's portraits, and Tifa quickly realized that he was pointing at wanted posters. "The Simmels have been raising Cain all 'cross the land, so we ain't getting the same shipments we used to. Nobody wants their goods stolen, so we have to make do with what we got. And that means higher costs. Supply and demand, as they say in the city."

Tifa looked over the posters while Vincent asked for more information on the Simmels. Most of the posters were yellow and brittle with age, but a few were still glossy from the printing press. She easily recognized most of the older posters— there were quite a few different renditions of Sephiroth, each with a bounty higher than the last, while Loz and Yazoo's posters had been crossed off with a bright, bloody X. As for the newer posters, she only recognized one:

"Cloud," she breathed.

The bartender frowned at her. "What'sat? You orderin' something?"

Tifa blinked. "Oh. Oh, um, no. No, just…"

"I'll take a water," Yuffie interjected while Tifa floundered.

"Or tea if you have it," Cid added, but then he paused. "But only if it's less than twenty gil, mind you. I ain't paying an arm and a leg for watered down leaf water, you understand me?"

"So water it is," the bartender replied, and Tifa promptly stopped paying attention.

She continued to stare at Cloud's wanted poster. She resisted the urge to lean across the counter so she could run her hand down it— to trace his cheek with her fingertip, to rip his portrait off the wall. His inked headshot had him directly facing the camera, his expression deadpan and lifeless, his head pale and unruly. Except his nose isn't that big, and his jaw isn't that broad, she thought, her heart an open wound. They also forgot the freckle on his lip. And he doesn't part his hair on that side—

She dragged her gaze further down. Unlike the other wanted posters, his didn't have a name attached— a small blessing. Only the title Simmel Accomplice was listed under his portrait, as well as a rather hefty sum of change. Beneath the bounty, it read: Wanted dead or alive.

Tifa's gaze snagged on that final sentence. Dead or alive. Her heart, already bruised and bleeding, cracked further, swelling until there was no more space beneath her ribs, until she could no longer breathe.

"I need air," she managed to choke out, and she didn't wait for a response before she turned on her heel and left the way they had come—

— and yet before she could reach the door, a hand suddenly locked on her arm.

"Somethin' catch your eye?" came a deep voice.

Tifa turned to come face-to-face with the slimy man from earlier. He was giving her that same greasy smile now, like she was a prize already won. Fury boiled within her, nearly enough to overtake her sick fear for Cloud, but she reigned in her impulse to punch his teeth in and grinned instead— not to be friendly, but to show teeth. "I reckon that's none of your business," she stated.

"A pretty girl like yourself? 'Course it's my business." The man pulled her arm towards him, and she dug her heels into the floor and didn't budge. Unperturbed, he continued, "The way I see it, if you're lookin' at that board there then you're huntin' for a man, but I'm tellin' you that you don't have to go through that much effort."

"Who says I'm hunting for a man?"

"Why else you be lookin' at the board?"

"Money," Tifa immediately replied.

The bell suddenly chimed, alerting them that someone had opened the door. Neither Tifa nor the man bothered to look at it. "Well, in that case," the man continued, "let me be the first ta' say that you don't have to go through that much effort for a bit of money, either. A fine thing like yourself—" he raked his gaze down her frame— "can earn a pretty penny or two in an easier fashion, you know."

Tifa wrenched her arm away. "Not interested." She pivoted to walk away—

—but then the man grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "Woahh, easy there. Give me a chance—"

Tifa slammed her fist into his windpipe before he could finish speaking. His eyes bugged. He choked, one hand flying up to his throat, and then she kicked his legs out from underneath him before he could recover. He went down hard, knocking into the table and sending drinks scattering. Glass shattered against the floor. Foul-smelling drink splattered the floorboards. Someone whistled, but she didn't see who it was.

"I'm already spoken for," Tifa ground out, grinding her heel into the man's sternum, "and even if I wasn't, I wouldn't be interested in you. "

Vincent suddenly appeared by her side. He had one hand on her shoulder while the other rested on his pistol's grip. "We have a problem?" he asked as Cid and Yuffie hurried to join them.

Tifa shifted her gaze back down at the man on the floor, who was holding his throat and coughing. He kept his watering eyes firmly on the floor. "No," she eventually said. She removed her boot from his chest. "I trust that we don't."

Without warning, the bell chimed again. Tifa turned to it on instinct, only to see the back of a worn boot and a shadow disappear around the corner. The door drifted shut once more, and she glanced back down at the man still lying at her feet. He still didn't meet her eyes.

Good. Satisfaction twisted within her as she glanced back to Cid. "So, water?"

"Water," Cid agreed, if a bit morosely, and they all headed back to the bar.


The next update will probably take a little more time than usual- life is a little stressful (read: a lot stressful) right now, and my writing took a hit because of it.

Stay safe and well until next time 💐