Moonglow
"Do you... miss me?"
The question is drawn out, asked the way only Aerith can ask a question.
"Aerith? What? You, you died." The truth tastes bitter on Tifa's tongue as her red eyes flicker between the faulty lamp and Aerith.
"Don't be silly! I'm right here." Her green eyes gleam as if she knows something Tifa doesn't.
Tifa doesn't say much for several moments. Instead, she hoists herself out of bed and opens her curtains to let the moonlight filter in.
"Aerith, why are you here?"
"To see you, of course." Her voice is upbeat, coated in honey, but that's not all she is. They both know this. "I know it's late, but we're supposed to go shopping topside together, remember?" she reminds her. "Let's go."
This shouldn't be possible. It's been years, literal years and yet here she is in the flesh. Tifa reaches out a hand toward Aerith. If she touches her, will this mean it's real?
Tifa never gets to find out.