Chapter 86, εуλ0016
Time went on, and the world kept changing.
Like it or not, Rufus found himself changing along with it.
He'd had the dream of bringing back Shinra. It still haunted him, in the depths of his mind. But as the world trudged on, he was forced to admit that it was probably not to be.
Nevertheless, he had his ways.
Reeve knew full well who he was indebted to. Even as the WRO expanded its reach and its resources, the funds and supplies from Rufus were still its meat and bread. The lifeline that kept it going.
It wasn't the first time he had patiently waited.
But there were things happening that were disturbingly out of his control. He'd had his ideas about Sephiroth, about Geostigma – but even he could not have predicted the results. The children – they were growing up.
How would they change the world?
SOLDIER had it all wrong, he now realized. The experiments – they were all failed. They had given their subjects the abilities of mako, while somehow failing to transmit its essence.
That, he now understood, was something of the Lifestream itself. Something Shinra's greatest scientists – not even that brilliant freak, Hojo – were unable to put in a test tube, a petri dish.
The Lifestream, that was the true power. The children, its messengers.
And then there was Cloud Strife. The unsolved mystery. Did the man even know he was working for Rufus Shinra once again? Would he stay with the WRO if he did?
Probably. The man had an idealism that never seemed to fade.
But in any case, a new reunion of sorts was coming. And Rufus planned to be around to see it.
The wind whipped through her hair; she clung firmly to Cloud as he crossed the wastelands at his typical supersonic speed. The unchanging landscape was nothing but a dusty blur; it didn't matter. She knew there was little to see, just the same unyielding sand and scrub. It had been very few times she'd been on the back of the bike with him; she relished that heady combination of both fear and freedom.
She had every trust in her driver, though. His hyperaware senses made this nothing more than a safe cruising speed to him; once it was a secret to his success in the delivery service, but now, with his working allegiance to the WRO, it was just a guilty pleasure. Churning up dirt and grime, flying too fast to give it a chance to settle on them. Motion sickness was a distant trouble when he was the one in control. And the exposure of the bike, being one with the environment, broke down the walls that made him so claustrophobic in vehicles.
He wheeled suddenly, and she realized with surprise that they were already there. She'd barely noticed when the road had started to slope but here they were at the top. He hopped off first, offering her his hand like a gentleman as she dismounted as well.
And before her –
Flowers. Cloud had told her they were here; she realized now she hadn't really believed him. At least not that they were so identical to the patch that had once been in the church, before they were drowned to give Geostigma cure. They seemed so incongruous – The WRO measured the limits of the vegetation, and though every year green crept just a little further, it would be decades, maybe even centuries, for the Planet to repair the damage thirty-one years of Midgar had done to the area. Edge was growing, yes, but with the new solar grid in place, the power supply existed in harmony with the environment, not taking it away.
"I haven't been here since you left the Buster Sword here," she whispered softly to Cloud, as if he didn't know that himself. Up until now it had been his private spot of sorts, a place he still came when he needed to brood; unlike the church, which belonged to her as much as him, she allowed him this one place to himself. The bond to this place was solely his own.
Maybe today would change that.
Except for the flowers – she'd seen the sword instead, just as it had been when Cloud first left it here – it looked exactly the way she had dreamed. Was that just coincidence, or was the place truly that unchanging?
Cloud hadn't spoken since they had arrived; he still seemed hesitant to break the silence now. But as he knelt down, fingering one of the flowers reverently, she sensed this was the moment. His eyes grew far away, and she patiently waited.
"Zack," he began, "I know it's been a while. I should probably come here more often. But you know how it is. I figure you'd be happier if I was out living life instead of moping around, wouldn't you? After all, it was you who gave me the job…" He chuckled nervously.
"I'm getting better at this, Zack. Not trying so hard to be a hero. Just trying to be a good man." Cloud paused. "You know, I always thought you were a better hero than I ever was. A real hero. You did it for all the right reasons. Dreams and honor. You had both until the very end. You never gave up on a friend. I owe you all of that. And today, hopefully, I can help prove that to you."
He straightened, putting an arm around her shoulder. Tifa let herself lean in just a little bit, and he stroked her arm affectionately. "I brought someone with me today, Zack," he told the flowers. "I know you've met her before, but I never had a chance to properly introduce you. Zack Fair, I'd like to present… Tifa Lockhart." He turned to look deep into her eyes, an azure gaze that never failed to send her to pieces. "My wife."
She shifted closer; he continued. "She's mine now to love and cherish," he said. "I'll try to do right by her. All the things you would have done for Aerith. I get it now. This is the way to honor your memory. By taking the best of you and paying it forward. And I have to stay alive, because it will take a lifetime to pay off that debt." He reached down to her hand, giving it a squeeze of encouragement. "She asked me to bring her here today. So… here we are."
Tifa let go and squatted, watching the flowers ripple in the breeze; like Aerith saying hello, here to urge her forward. "Hello, Zack," she started. "I, uh, don't really know where to begin. Cloud assures me you can hear. I guess he would know; he's been to the Lifestream a lot more than I have. The only time I went there, I was trying to fish him out." She tried to laugh at her own joke; it only rang hollow. "I owe you a debt, Zack. I need to tell you… I need to say I'm sorry. Because the last time I saw you, I told you I hated you."
She took a deep breath. "But you know why, don't you? I mean, you must know everything that happened by now? I was just a dumb little girl, I couldn't see past the SOLDIER uniform. First I wanted Cloud to get in, to be my hero; but after that, SOLDIER was the enemy, and that was all that I could see. But that's no excuse for the way I treated you."
A small breeze came up; the flowers wavered. "I wonder if I was just in your way that day. I mean, if I hadn't been there for you guys to worry about, could you have gotten out?" It was hard to admit, but she had to do it. Zack and Cloud were no chosen ones, just ordinary people tumbled into things by circumstance and coincidence. "Someone else could have killed Sephiroth. You guys didn't have to suffer for it."
The sadness was started to well up. She had known it would come. "So today, Zack, I want to say… thank you. Thank you for not letting him go, for not giving up on him. Thank you for bringing him back to me." Her eyes swelled and watered. "Now it's my job to finish what you started. Maybe this is all very selfish of me. He became the hero of the world, but I'm most glad just that he's here with me."
She was sobbing openly now, and Cloud's heart went out to her. The only reason he didn't rush to embrace her was that she had asked him to stay back; as it was, she was thinking of doing so anyway. "I miss you, Zack. Does that make sense when I barely got a chance to even know you? A few words and some emails. That's all I traded with you in life." She wept salty drops, pearls falling to the leaves of the flowers. "I miss what could have been. What YOU could have been. You, and Aerith. I miss her so much. I wish the two of you were here in our lives every day the way it should have been. I wish you could have met our children, watched them growing up. We could have all grown old together. But you guys were so young…"
She stopped there, unable to continue. Her tears were all her words. Cloud stayed unmoving, letting the last of her sadness seep into the dry cracked earth., and when he finally stood, he was there to pull her close; to hold her up, if that's what she needed.
For a long time, that was all they could do, just stand in the silence of the desert, holding each other close. "Will we ever be normal?" she finally asked.
He was surprised. That was the sort of question he usually asked her; for Tifa to doubt now…
Cloud was silent for a long time, long enough that Tifa wasn't sure he was going to answer.
"No," he told her quietly. "I don't think we will be. But… I think we might be able to find some happiness along the way."
They had happiness – but did they deserve it? That's just the way they would have to live their lives, every bit of joy tinged with both wonder and a trace of bitterness for the things they could not take back. They were the survivors, and this was their burden to carry.
They both had tears that would never dry. Scars, invisible, but they always knew they were there. In a very real sense, they were each other's forgiveness.
She turned to him, realizing she needed him as badly as he needed her. They needed to be together – no one else would ever be able to touch their lives the same way. Their relationship was no longer just based on one promise; it was an alliance, a friendship, bonds strengthened by love to let them survive.
There had been a time when she had been the one to hold him up, but in the end it was for herself as well; making him strong enough that now he could be the pillar that supported her. And with every passing year, he seemed to actually go a little further back, to the core of who he was, the bright-eyed boy who had first fallen for the girl next door.
"Come on, let's go home," he encouraged; at her nod, they turned around together, his arm still around her shoulders. For once, he thought they might not make love tonight; he just wanted to hold her close.
"Will you go get Marlene for dinner, Cloud?" Tifa asked. "It's almost ready."
Denzel was already at the table, impatiently waiting with for kin had. He seemed to have finally stopped growing upwards, but was still threatening to eat them out of house and home. "She's been in that bathroom for, like, an hour," he griped. "What's she doing in there?"
"I'll check on her," Cloud said.
Going upstairs, as he approached the bathroom door, he was surprised to hear what sounded like – crying? – coming from inside. "Marlene?" he called inside as he knocked. "Dinner's ready."
"Will you get Tifa for me, please?" came the sniffles from within.
"Sure," Cloud agreed. "But are you sure there isn't anything I can help you with – "
"TIFA!" came the scream from inside, causing Cloud to step back involuntarily.
"Alright!" He threw up his hands – not like she could see it. "I'll send her up. She'll be here in a moment."
He went back downstairs, where Tifa was just tasting her cooking. "No Marlene?" she asked. "Well, this needs a few more minutes anyway."
"Marlene's screaming for you," he told her. "Do you have any idea what this is about?"
Tifa set down the spoon. Her look was… confusing. "Maybe," she hedged.
"I'll watch over the cooking for you," Cloud offered.
A look of horror crossed Tifa's face.
"Denzel will watch over the cooking for you," he hastily assured her. At the sound of his name, Denzel was already getting up, motioning Tifa to the side so he could take over.
Tifa tromped up the stairs, wondering if her suspicions were true. "Marlene?" she announced. "I'm here." A click signaling the lock being unlocked was her answer.
She carefully entered, and immediately understood. Marlene sat against the wall, head in her hands, but she didn't need to tell Tifa what was going on. The evidence was there.
No wonder she didn't want Cloud here, Tifa thought. She's probably embarrassed enough as is.
Tifa sat against the bathtub, letting herself slide to the floor to face Marlene. Part of her wanted to hang her head in her hands as well. My daughter – she's a woman! I could be a grandmother! She wasn't even thirty, and wouldn't be for several months yet, though Cloud was set to pass that boundary in a few short weeks All that this responsibility entailed – all the things they had to talk about… damn, this meant she had to take Marlene materia shopping!
My daughter… I really AM a mother… With regret, she remembered how she hadn't had her own mother to guide her through this rite of passage. In her head, suddenly she was an awkward fifteen-year-old all over again, a girl-turned woman, dreaming of the man who was downstairs with her other child, a girl with no idea that this would be the life she was leading now…
"Tifa?" Marlene's voice was timid. 'Timid' and Marlene did not go together. "I'm scared, Tifa."
Tifa looked up, and Marlene's eyes were red, quivering, the look of tears that had just been there and were threatening to come up again; and she realized she felt much the same. She wondered which one of them was going to burst unto tears first. "Tifa?" Marlene repeated. I, uh, feel weird. I'm supposed to talk to my mom about this… but you're Tifa… but you're pretty much my mom too… am I supposed to call you mom now?"
The tears wouldn't hold back much longer now. "Whatever you want to call me is fine, sweetheart," she replied, spontaneously pulling Marlene into a hug. The girl – no, woman, young woman at least, that would be hard to get used to – responded in kind, squeezing Tifa as if her life depended on it. Tifa felt moisture on her bare arm, and realized Marlene had given in first. Oddly, she herself felt the urge to cry lessen; holding her daughter so close helped put her at peace.
"Well," Marlene said, finally pulling away, "I'll still call you Tifa… but you'll always be my mother." Tifa did lose it then, bursting into hiccupping sobs, and they just sat there for lengthening minutes, two teary-eyed messes.
Finally, sobs abated. "Do you think I should tell Cloud the same thing?"
A memory flashed from a long time ago. I looked for you name in the papers, Cloud. Private words in the solitude of the Lifestream. Tell him that when you see him, Tifa – I bet he'll be so happy. It always made Cloud his best when he felt loved and valued. "I think that's a great idea, Marlene."
Marlene twiddled with the thin single braid that came down from her forehead; she wore a smaller pink ribbon at the end now, keeping the older, tattered ribbon in a box of her other treasured items. "I was thinking… of getting a red ribbon for this."
"Um, because the color's significant?" Tifa inquired.
"I want to tie it just below the pink," Marlene declared.
"Isn't that a bit, uh, suggestive?" Tifa worried. Red…
"It seems like a more womanly color," Marlene told her, a bit primly.
"Aerith was hardly not a woman, honey," Tifa replied.
"Yes, but…" Marlene paused. "That was your color, right? You tied it in your hair?"
Tifa hadn't worn a tie in her hair for years, not since she'd taken a knife to her ponytail in those tense post Meteorfall days. "You remembered that?" she asked, surprised. "You were only four."
"Well, not really, but…" Marlene paused thoughtfully, trailing off into silence. "You know, Cloud still has that chunk of your hair, right? The one you chopped off."
Tifa could feel her jaw drop, even though it actually didn't. He kept that…? All this time?
Marlene replied to Tifa's bewildered expression. "I saw it… one day, like two or three years ago," she began. "It was one of those days I was helping organize his office – you know, again. I don't know if he didn't remember it was there, or didn't expect me to find it… I mean it was obvious what it was, but when I asked him why he had it… he got one of those looks, you know, those looks like he's about to cry but never actually does? More like he's thinking really hard about whether he should or not?"
Tifa nodded. The whole family knew that look, but only she knew for sure what it was. It was a lighter version of the same look he gave her in bed, when he was on top of her and inside of her, their eyes locked and saying nothing and everything…
It was one of those looks that Tifa had never needed translated, and never asked, probably because it meant so many things. I love you, I need you, I never want to lose you… it was the look she gave him in return, the face of perfect connection that never lost its power.
And that's why he saved… my hair? It was less common nowadays than in the heady first days of their love, but every once in a while she received a reminder of the sheer intensity of Cloud's emotions, wondering if she was woman enough to receive them.
But even beyond that, she'd made a silent promise long ago, upon Aerith's death – to love him for the both of them. She had the burden of buffering him against the pain of losing their dear friend, of reminding him what he had to live for. That part hurt sometimes, but… to do otherwise would not just betray Cloud, but her best friend as well.
Every once in a while, on days that weren't all that great, insidious, vulnerable thoughts crept in… would Aerith have been better for him? Despite herself, despite their happy marriage, there had been something between Cloud and Aerith she could never touch. She'd seen it the day she'd found them together at Cloud's room at the Gold Saucer and recognized it for what it was; just as she recognized Aerith's' choice to step back. A fact she was forever grateful for, but still… She could accept a certain amount of feelings for another woman, but she couldn't deny, sometimes it just hurt.
Guilt and pain were things that ran too deep inside of her; like it or not, they were part of who she was, now.
She snapped herself back to the present. There were more important things at hand. As Aerith's memory faded, she absent-mindedly reached for the pink ribbon in Marlene's hair. "Red," she finally agreed. "We'll twist them together. It'll be beautiful…"
Marlene smiled shyly, tears finally cleared, and another thought occurred to Tifa. "You are beautiful, Marlene," she told her daughter, and not just because she truly was. "You are a beautiful young woman. Never forget that." There was a dark side to that, though, the part she had been dreading, as Marlene's body slowly began to fill out into a womanly shape – being a woman, meant, being a woman in the eyes of men. Men are going to look at you in another way now. Some of them will want you in ways that won't be enough. I only hope you can find someone as wonderful as I have…
"Will you tell Cloud for me?" Marlene asked. "But you know. Later."
"Sure," Tifa agreed. "Do you want me to tell Barret too?"
Marlene pondered. "I think I should tell Papa on my own," she concluded.
"Well, then. Come on," she said softly. Taking Marlene's hand, both women stood up. "Let's go down to dinner – and not tell them the good news."
"What are they doing?" wondered Tifa, later that evening. "They rushed through dinner so fast tonight."
Cloud shrugged. "I just walked past Marlene's room. They're building a blanket fort in there."
"A blanket fort?" Tifa replied, surprised. "They haven't done that in years."
Cloud had no answer.
Upstairs, a thirteen-year-old young woman and her fifteen-year-old brother were indeed huddled under an impromptu tent of sheets strung over chairs, a place where they used to share secrets when younger. Sometimes big ones, sometimes silly ones, like who had a crush on who at school. But this night, it was serious thoughts that occupied the two siblings.
"I still think you should tell Cloud and Tifa," Denzel insisted. The soft glow shone in his eyes, so subtle that you'd miss it if you weren't already looking for it. No wonder their parents hadn't noticed.
Marlene sighed. "Denzel, we've been through this before. There's really not much they could do to help."
"I know, but…" Denzel paused, unsure what to say next. Marlene was right; there really wasn't much Cloud and Tifa could do. They didn't have the knowledge that could help. Didn't have the skills to guide the young adults through their difficult awakenings. "I mean, they could at least try, couldn't they?"
"How could I explain without telling them everything?" was Marlene's response. "Do you really think it's time for them to hear?
Deep down, though, Denzel knew Marlene had a point. How could they bring up the events that to some degree still overshadowed Cloud and Tifa's lives; how could they, when they'd finally achieved some stability, some happiness? He wanted the two of them to hang onto that bliss for as long as they could.
"Besides," she added, "if anything, shouldn't you be talking to them first? You're older."
"It's not like that, and you know it," Denzel protested. True, he was in some respects further along than Marlene was; but she had certain strengths, certain advantages that he did not. They might be reaching a similar destination, but they were getting there by roads not quite the same.
As much as he wished he COULD talk to Tifa and Cloud – hoped they would have SOME kind of advice – Marlene was still his best guide. And even she was fumbling, , her vision opening up at its own pace; struggling through experiences that no amount of knowledge could truly prepare one for. Helping where she could, passing on whatever came to her.
He knew, of course. She'd told him years before, in a fort very much like this one, when they were still children sharing a room.
"I've always heard the Lifestream," she'd begin to explain, leaving Denzel in abject shock as she continued on, telling all; until slowly but surely, he began to understand this was something that was a part of him too.
His story hadn't started that way… but that's how it would go on.
Now… "I'm a woman now. It means I can't avoid my destiny." Marlene shuddered; knowing this was the transition that would take her forward, ready or not.
"Maybe I should be your protector," he spontaneously suggested, thinking of the sword Cloud had only reluctantly begun to teach him. "You know, like Cloud is for Tifa." He couldn't help it; he still had the fervid desire to be a hero, to follow in Cloud's footsteps.
Marlene took his hand in hers gently, warmly. He could feel some of that charge; some of what he felt with Mina, with Vits, with the other advent children. As if it was a signal all their own, a secret handshake of sorts; a way they always knew when another of their kind was near.
"I don't think that's the way you're meant to go," she told him with a smile.
It hurt her that even now there were some things she kept from Denzel; some even beyond that, things she'd not even told Aerith, as she realized she was growing up; and part of growing up meant there were some choices she would have to make on her own.
She would have her guardians, yes; past Cloud and Tifa, past Barret, those who would look out for her, protect her. But she was less than a decade away from the ages when her natural parents had lost their lives; there was only so much further they could lead her, before she reached the point where they had no more experiences of life to offer.
Aerith and Zack had a different task ahead of them.
Destiny, some wanted to call it. But that was really just a shorthand for what was, in reality the Planet's will. And the Planet's will was not absolute; it was fluid, fluctuating, an interaction with all life upon it, not simply a one-way conduit. A conversation of sorts, one most people didn't even realize they were engaged in.
It was the job of the Cetra to make those hidden words and meanings easier to hear.
Marlene was left to carry on the legacy her mother would have filled. Both women now, one on either side of the Lifestream; a first step to bridging the gap.
There would be others, with time, but it all started with her.
"We all have to find our own Promised Land," she half-whispered.
"Huh?" Denzel asked, confused.
"Nothing," she told him. 'nothing you need to worry about yet."
But all the same… she was fairly certain she knew where she was going to find hers.
The day had been quiet after Marlene's outburst; Tifa had been tight-lipped. Cloud wondered, but kept his mouth shut. She'd tell him soon enough.
He was still wondering, though, as they made their way to bed, and Tifa still hadn't breathed a word.
"So what was all the fuss about?" he finally worked up the courage to ask her.
Tifa paused from where she was brushing out her chocolate hair. She'd cut off a few inches again, he noted; she went through phases like that, where she took off a bit, then letting it grow out, before repeating the cycle yet again.
"Well," she began carefully, "Cloud… uh… our daughter's a woman now."
"Huh?" was Cloud's first response, but then as Tifa looked on, he allowed himself a moment to think, before understanding kicked in… Embarrassed, he could think of nothing to say.
No wonder Marlene hadn't wanted him there.
"So, uh, what do we do know?" he asked, truly perplexed. "I mean, do things change around here, or something?"
Tifa put down her brush. "Well, nothing, really, that we haven't already been doing, Cloud," she told him. "I mean… I really think we've been doing everything we can for our kids."
"But they're getting to be adults…" Cloud faltered.
Tifa smiled, reaching to take his hand in hers for a moment. "Yes, but they're still ours," she assured him. "It's not something that happens all at once. We'll have to guide them still."
Cloud pondered that for a moment… and their eyes met.
Tifa knew they'd both struggled to do the best by the two young people who had been shunted into their care. They hadn't been shielded or coddled – both Tifa and Cloud wanted them prepared for life. Not thrust into it by tragedy the way the two of them had been.
"I worry about men," she told Cloud.
"How so?" Cloud asked.
"Becauseee…" Tifa let the word trail off, wondering how to fill the rest of the thought. "Because now they're going to see her in a different way. I want us to protect her, but I don't want to overshelter her, you know?"
"You think that's such a big worry?" Cloud asked her.
"Well, yeah," Tifa replied. "You know what men are like."
Cloud gazed at her for a long moment, though not in an unpleasant way; still, it made her twitch under that staring blue. "I guess I didn't really think about that," he finally told her. "Because once you filled my eyes, there wasn't room for anything else."
Tifa half-gasped as the words shot straight through to her heart. It was the sort of words that sometimes came out of Cloud, something from the raw depths of his emotion, a sign to remind her of the true extent of his feelings for her. Even after all this time, it couldn't fail but to touch her.
She was about to stand, reach for him, let him take her in his arms; but before she rose, she remembered something else.
"So, uh," she finally forced out, a bit uncomfortable herself, "you kept my hair, huh?"
Cloud turned beet red; a near-impossible color for him, completely at odds with the rest of his pale coloring. Tifa immediately felt sorry for embarrassing him.
"It's not that I mind," she hastily reassured him, "but, why? I'm just genuinely curious."
If anything, his eyes grew deeper, richer. More penetrating; and Tifa felt as if her own soul was on fire. "Because you were trying to throw away part of yourself," he told her softly, "and I wanted to hang on to it. I didn't want to lose any of you."
"Can I see it?" she asked. He nodded and left the room, returning with a wad of hair, still wrapped in that old red tie, and placed it gently in her hands.
She held it to her chest, thinking how strange it was to be holding your own hair in your hands. A discarded part of herself. The detached strands were her same familiar color, the same smooth feel, no worse the wear for a little dust that had gathered.
And as she held the strange trophy in her hand, she realized she'd gotten an answer to a lot more than the question she had asked.
She did rise then, placing the tuft safely on the dresser; if Cloud wanted to keep it, she certainly wasn't going to deny him. She did embrace him then, throwing her arms around him to kiss him long and deep, sighing as he took over to caress her body, nuzzling her neck, slowly leading her over to their marriage bed.
He didn't want to lose any part of her. He wanted all of her. And just the same, she never wanted to lose any of him.
Author's Note: So yes, the scene with Tifa's dream last chapter, was, indeed, from Dead Fantasy, which you should really check out. It's a mesh of various FFs and Dead or Alive, but really, it's a love letter to Tifa.
I just love the opening chapter where she comes out of nowhere, all dressed in black, and just looks like sheer power.
There's also a remake of it being done, though only one chapter is finished. I really hope the new one is finished, so we can finally see how the ending turns out. RIP Monty Oum…