Tifa did not believe their journey could get worse, but it did. The storm rapidly devolved into near whiteout conditions. They had made it past the cliffs where she had nearly fallen and had navigated across the glacier. Now they faced snowy plains that stretched for miles. Tifa feared and resented the inexplicable connection that pulled Cloud toward Sephiroth but prayed that it was functioning now. Certainly, no map could guide them at this point.
A faint shout broke through the wind and Tifa jerked against the rope that linked the team together. Someone had stopped moving. For a moment, she was pulled in two directions as she stopped moving and in front of her, Cloud continued on. But soon, the party had gathered around her, and Cloud was unable to pull their collective weight.
He joined then, eyes squinting against the snow.
"What is it?"
His voice was curt. Barret pointed ahead.
"Lights!" he shouted, pointing.
Tifa looked. He was right. Diagonally ahead, a soft glow of light cut through the storm. Shelter. It had to be. Tifa felt a rush of relief.
"We have to stop," she said, trying to yell over the wind.
She was not sure if the other heard her, but Barret began marching in that direction. Everyone else followed. For a moment, Cloud stood still. Tifa, the only one immediately linked to him with the rope, was yanked as it reached its limit. But after a moment, he followed. Perhaps, even in his current state, Cloud realized that none of them would survive in the storm much longer.
The light, as it turned out, belonged to a man named Holzoff who had built a cabin near the Northern Crater some years ago. He answered the door with a look of shock and disapproval before ushering them in. They stripped their gear to dry. He plied them with blankets and warm broth, all while scolding them for how foolish they had been. When he was satisfied that none of them had done permanent damage and they were all settled on the couches or floor, he told them his tale.
It was a sad one. He had been a climber some twenty years ago and had come to the Northern Crater to scale the mysterious cliffs.
"There have always been rumors surrounding the crater," he told them. "They say a mysterious entity had fallen from the sky and wounded the planet."
Tifa had the sense he did not often have visitors and was enjoying having a captive audience. Or an audience who was too exhausted to interrupt, anyway.
"We came to climb the cliffs. Gaea's Cliffs, they call them. Apparently, if you get to the crater, it's as warm as Costa del Sol. The planet's energy gathered up around it, trying to heal its wound."
He shakes his head.
"Not sure it's working, but it keeps the crater warm anyhow."
Holzoff continued his tale. He had come to the cliffs with his climbing partner, a man named Yamski. They had been young and foolhardy. Neither of them was prepared for the hazardous conditions. Yamski died on the cliffs. Holzoff had not climbed since but had built an outpost here for climbers. He lived in the cabin and there was a bunkhouse attached for guests.
"If you got feeling back in your limbs, I'll show you where you can stay," he offered.
There was a bunkroom connected to the main cabin where Holzoff himself lived. Bunks with thin mattresses lined the wall. It was simple, but clean and warm. There was a door toward the back with one small window. He motioned them all over to it.
"You can't see very much right now, but there's a trail just out that way," he said, pointing. "Leads straight to the cliffs and the Northern Crater."
Cloud had been toward the back of the group but now drifted toward the front. He moved slowly, as if in a dream. He gazed out the back window.
"Anyways," Holzoff continued, clearing his throat. "There's plenty of beds. If you want to head to the crater, the storm will pass by morning. You'd never even make it to the cliffs now, much less the crater."
Cloud did not respond. He reached a hand up to the pane of glass, still looking out, mesmerized. Tifa could feel the others shifting uncomfortably behind her.
"Do you hear that Cloud?" Tifa asked briskly, hoping to snap him out of it. "We have to wait. We should rest up and get a fresh start when it clears."
Cloud's arm dropped from the window. He turned to face them, a vague smile on his face. His eyes were distant. Tifa felt her arms pebbling with goosebumps.
"It's not time yet, anyways," Cloud told them.
He headed to the bunk nearest to the door and laid down, turning his back to them. The group watched him, not speaking. Tifa could feel glances being exchanged behind her.
"Hookay then," Cid said. "I'm getting some sleep too."
He headed toward the front of the room, as far as he could get from Cloud. Most of the others followed him, the tension broken. Tifa could feel Nanaki and Yuffie trying to make eye contact with her as they headed toward beds of their own, but she studiously ignored them. Like Tifa, Barret did not move. His gaze was focused on Cloud's back, eyes troubled.
"Hey, Tifa," he said, his head not moving. "We should probably, uh, check our supplies."
Tifa raised an eyebrow at him as he turned to face her.
"You know, in the other room?"
Tifa took his point. They left the others in the bunkroom and closed the door behind them.
Tifa stood awkwardly with Barret near their supplies until Holzoff retreated to his private quarters. Even after he left, Tifa kept her back turned for a long moment. She fiddled with the snowsuits, straightening them out to ensure they would dry evenly. This conversation was necessary, but it was one she had been dreading.
Barret cleared his throat.
"Cait says Shinra is coming," he said.
Tifa started and turned toward him. It was not what she expected him to say.
"What? Why?"
He shook his head, disgusted. "Promised land and all that, I guess."
"Right…" Tifa said slowly.
She shook her head. Between Aerith's death and Cloud's rapid deterioration, she had not even considered what Shinra might be up to. The situation was volatile enough. They did not need to throw more fuel on the flames.
"You gonna tell Cloud?"
There it was. What Barret really wanted to talk about. Tifa took a deep breath before facing him. She expected his eyes to be accusatory, but all she got was concern. To her surprise, Tifa's own eyes filled with tears. Barret sighed.
"Come on Tifa," he said. "How long have we known each other?"
He collapsed into a worn armchair with a groan. Tifa sat across from him, tucking her legs underneath her. Barret continued.
"We were both a little lost back then, huh?" he asked, chuckling.
Tifa gave him the slightest of smiles. They had been, when they first met. She had just turned eighteen and was so very alone. All she had done since arriving at Midgar was work, trying to pay off the medical debt she had accrued after Sephiroth attacked her. At first, she had sold hot buns at a cart. By the time she met Barret, she had also started working at Seventh Heaven. An old man named Monty owned it at the time. She had met Barret and Marlene there.
Barret was still chuckling under his breath. "You were so mad at me for having Marlene in old shoes without any socks."
Tifa was torn between laughter and tears at the memory. Barret had sat angrily at the bar, scaring all the customers away. Marlene had been so tiny and sweet, half asleep next to him. Both were bedraggled and weary. They had been sleeping outside. Marle convinced the old owner to let them sleep in the basement of Seventh Heaven on occasion. Despite her gruffness, Marle had a tender heart.
"I was so scared when Monty died," Barret said, shaking his head. "I didn't want to take Marlene back out on the streets. But you went ahead and spent all that money you'd saved to buy Seventh Heaven…"
He shook his head, a nostalgic smile on his face.
"You always were one for taking in strays, huh?"
Tifa shrugged. "I don't know about that…"
Barret rolled his eyes at her.
"Me and Marlene may have the first but we sure as hell were not the last," he said fondly. "We woulda been running a bed and breakfast if I didn't reign you in every now and then."
He was looking at her seriously now.
"Still though, I always trusted you, Tifa. Your judgment. 'Specially when it came to men. You always took care of yourself."
She nodded. It was true. Barret always trusted Tifa to handle herself, and she did. It was a rare, egregious case that Barret would intervene. And when it got that bad, Tifa quite enjoyed seeing Barret throw them bodily out of the bar.
"But it's different with Cloud, isn't it?" Barret asked bluntly.
Tifa looked away. She had not been ready to have this conversation with Barret, but she was definitely not ready to have this conversation. Again, Barret sighs.
"I still trust you Tifa, I do. And I know you can take care of yourself but…" he trailed off, giving her a serious look. "You take care of other people first. And with Cloud…"
He paused again.
"Somethings not right," he stated. "We all know it. But here we are, following him around. You gotta know some of that's 'cause of you?"
Tifa looked down. She did know. Tifa vouched for Cloud, defended Cloud. He was her childhood friend.
"Just tell me we aren't headed toward disaster following him around. Tell me you aren't headed to disaster."
His voice was urgent.
"I trust Cloud," Tifa said, and in that moment, despite her doubts, she realized it was true. "I know he hasn't been…himself lately."
Barret snorted.
"Fine," Tifa said. "Something isn't right with him. But that's why it's even more important we stand by him. He needs us. He needs me."
He watched her carefully. Tifa forced herself not to look away. Finally, Barret nodded, eyes still suspicious.
"Fine. If you trust him, that's good enough for me," he said. "But even you admit he's not right. I know you know more than you're telling us, Tifa. You used to trust me too, right?"
Tifa looked up, startled.
"I still trust you Barret," she said. "Of course I do."
He leaned forward. "Then tell me what's wrong. Is it the degradation? Are we following around some Ex-SOLDIER who's slowly losing his mind?"
His question was fair. Everything he was saying was fair. Tifa looked down, lost in her thoughts. She thought back to days prior, after they had seen Dr. Sheiran in Corel.
Tifa and Aerith were ensconced in their rooms at the Gold Saucer. They had every intention of exploring together, but neither had been able to resist the temptation to collapse on the beds and rest, for just a moment. Besides, Yuffie had been unable to resist the lure of the Saucer and was out exploring with her boundless energy. Between being on the road and Yuffie, it had been rare in the preceding days that they had time to talk just the two of them.
And there was plenty to discuss, especially when it came to Cloud. Tifa's initial attempts to talk to Cloud had gone worse than she could have imagined. Aerith was concerned about Cloud's accusations about Tifa being an imposter, but seemed even more miffed that he would argue with Tifa. Cloud's headaches had gotten worse too. More frequent. And he had been almost entirely incapacitated in Corel.
Now, he was resting after another episode near the entrance of the Gold Saucer. Whatever was wrong was getting worse. Both women were worried and at a loss. Despite the opportunity they had to talk privately, they had been sitting without speaking for some time now.
"Degradation…" Tifa said, breaking the silence. "It keeps coming up. SOLDIER's cells degrade. What if that's what's happening to Cloud?"
Aerith considered this.
"No," she said slowly. "Not degradation."
She paused and Tifa waited, letting her think. Tifa bit back her questions. Sometimes Aerith got like this, thoughtful and distant. Like she was looking at something only she could see, or listening to voices only she could hear.
"It's not degradation," Aerith confirmed.
"How do you know?" Tifa asked, a fragile bubble of hope rising in her.
"I don't know it," Aerith answered. "But I feel it. Something else is going on."
She shook her head, frustrated.
"Maybe I knew before, but now it's just this feeling. Cloud isn't degrading. It's more like…fracturing, maybe."
Tifa was not following. "Fracturing? That's different than degrading?"
Aerith nodded. "Like…"
She searched around the room for inspiration and grabbed a glass vase off the nightstand. A single, artificial flower was inside.
"See, Tifa. If a flower decays, it wilts. It turns brown."
She flicked the fake flower.
"Not this one obviously," she said with a smile. "But one of mine would. A degraded flower can't be put back together. It will keep degrading until it's gone. The process can't be fixed or reversed. But if this vase shattered…"
Aerith wobbled the vase playfully at Tifa, grinning.
"We could put it back together. If all the pieces were there, that is. We could repair it."
Tifa thought she understood.
"A fracturing," she whispered.
Aerith nodded, serious again. "A fracturing. All the pieces of Cloud are there, but they aren't where they should be."
This made sense to Tifa. Like Cloud's retelling of the Nibelheim incident – the facts were there, but all in the wrong places. Or like the way Cloud acted – sometimes his actions fit perfectly into what Tifa knew about Cloud, but other times felt foreign, like interacting with a stranger.
"Then we have to piece him back together," Tifa said.
This made Aerith smile. "I've always been good at puzzles!"
Tifa laughed, but quickly became somber. It was not degradation. Which meant, they actually had a chance. Cloud might be alright. Tifa could feel Aerith watching her. When she looked up, Aerith offered her a reassuring smile.
"We won't let him fall apart, Tifa. I know it."
Tifa smiled back. "I believe you."
"Why?" Aerith teased. "Because I'm a wise, all-knowing Cetra?"
Tifa shook her head, serious again.
"No," she replied, and took Aerith's hand. "Because you're our friend."
"It's not degradation," Tifa tells Barret.
Her voice sounds more confident than it feels.
"Aerith knew it," she says, her voice breaking on the name.
Barret looks away, and Tifa knows he is hiding tears of his own.
"Cloud can't fight Sephiroth on his own," Tifa says firmly. "And I intend to fight with him. But I don't expect you or the others to come with me."
She stands and walks over Barret, putting a hand on his arm.
"You can go home to Marlene," she tells him. "I would understand."
Barret scoffs and stands, throwing her hand off and waving his arms in the air emphatically. When he speaks, he sounds like his old self again, the way he sounded back in Seventh Heaven when he would scold Tifa, Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie.
"Who the hell do you think I am?" he nearly shouted. "Do you really think I'm about to run from a fight?"
He waves a hand at her in disgust.
"If Cloud's gonna fight Sephiroth, I'm in. I've been fighting for the planet long before that spiky-headed fool came around."
Barret stomps back toward the bunkroom, clearly finished with the conversation. But he pauses before heading in, back still turned.
"Besides," he says gruffly. "We owe that bastard for Aerith, don't we?"
"We do," Tifa replies.
Tifa's conversation with Barret left her exhausted, and yet she could not sleep. She shifted uncomfortably on the hard bunk, wincing at its creaks. Tifa forced herself to lay still. She could hear the soft, even breaths of her friends around her. For once, Barret was not snoring, and Tifa wondered if he too was struggling to fall asleep after their conversation.
Tifa must have fallen asleep at some point, though, because she found herself waking with a start. The moonlight had shifted on bunkroom floor. How long had she slept? And what had awakened her? Barret's snores now permeated the room. Tifa sat up slowly, careful to avoid hitting her head on the bunk above her.
Immediately, her eyes went to the bunk closest to the backdoor. Cloud had been sleeping on the bottom. It was now vacant, and the backdoor was slightly ajar. The room was still warm, suggesting the door had not been open long.
Tifa's heart leapt in her chest. She threw her boots onto her feet, not bothering with gloves or her snowsuit. Don't be gone, Cloud, she pleaded.
She slipped out of the bunkroom and into the night. The cold was a shock to her bare limbs. The storm had finally passed. The sky was clear and the moon bright enough on the white landscape that Tifa could see clearly despite it being hours before daybreak.
Cloud was a few yards away from the door. Relief washed over her. But it was quickly replaced with horror, and she looked beyond him, toward the icy path that lead to the Northern Crater. There was a line of figures trudging forward along the path as if hypnotized. The same, familiar sick men they had been seeing for weeks, all clad in black cloaks. Cloud staggered in their direction, his gait mimicking their mindless forward march.
"Cloud!" Tifa cried.
She ran after him. When she reached him, she cut across his path and held her arms out wide. He focused on her. Tifa swallowed and held her ground. Moonlight crossed over his face. It was agonized. His eyes darted back and forth, on Tifa one moment and toward the line of black robed figures the next. It seemed to take everything in him to stand in place. After a moment, he grabbed his head, face crumpling in pain.
Unable to stop herself, Tifa moved toward him.
"Cloud," she said again, softer than before.
He continued to clutch his head, as if his hands were the only thing holding it together.
"The reunion," he groaned.
Cloud lurched forward into Tifa. She stumbled backward, staggering under the sudden weight. For a moment, she thought he might knock her down and continue forward. But Cloud convulsed again, his head falling to Tifa's shoulder. His body was tense, muscles twitching. The skin of his forehead was hot, almost feverish against her exposed skin.
"Tifa," he whispered.
A sudden tremor passed through his body and Cloud grabbed onto Tifa, hard. His hands dug into her back. Cloud had held her too tightly once before, weeks ago in Midgar. You're hurting me, Cloud, she had said. He had let her go at once. Now, she could not bear to push him away.
Her left arm was trapped between them, but her right arm was free. Tentatively, she reached up and curled her hand around the back of Cloud's neck. He shivered.
"It's alright, Cloud," Tifa told him, slightly breathless.
He shook his head against her shoulder, but his grip on her loosened. His breaths, still shaky, slowed.
"Tifa, your hands are cold," he said.
His voice was muffled against her neck, but it was Cloud's voice. Tifa could have cried.
"Well, I don't have on my gloves."
The practical and mundane words hung in the air, incongruous in the strange scene surrounding them. Cloud snorted, but then winced. A low moan escaped him. Tifa cradled his head against her shoulder, trying to offer comfort. She felt helpless.
"Cloud, please," she managed. "Tell me what's wrong? What's hurting you?"
For a moment he said nothing, his breath harsh and uneven against the side of Tifa's neck.
"I have to keep going," he said finally.
This time, Tifa shivered. "The North Crater."
Cloud moaned again. He was shaking so hard now, Tifa could barely hold him still. His body was being driven forward, on the same path as the hooded figures. That much was clear. And fighting against it was causing him pain. Tifa was strong, but she was not physically stronger than Cloud. She could not hold him back. And even if she cried out for the others to help, she was not sure she was strong enough to watch him suffer.
"Okay," Tifa said. "Okay. Let's go."
His grip on her loosened and he lifted his head. Tifa kept her hand on the back of his neck as he took a step back, not ready to break the connection. Cloud's eyes were pained and confused. He immediately turned his head toward the path ahead. Tifa reached up to hold his face in both of her hands, preventing him from looking away from her.
"I'll come with you," Tifa said firmly.
"It's…" Cloud started. "It's too dangerous. You could get hurt."
The words surprised her, and she almost smiled. The night sky above them was not as spectacular as it had been that night long ago at the water tower in Nibleheim. The moon was too bright for that. But the stars reminded Tifa of it all the same.
"Well then. If I get trapped or in trouble, you'll just have to rescue me."
Cloud's brow furrowed and he stopped straining to look away from her. Tifa met his eyes steadily, begging his fragile state of lucidity to hold. Stay with me, Cloud.
Although the storm had stopped, the night was still bitter. Tifa's hands were warm where they met Cloud's fevered skin, but the rest of her was rapidly growing numb. She would not make it far like this. Reluctantly she released Cloud. Immediately, his body jerked, and he looked back at the steadily progressing line of figures. They were moving slowly but they were past them now. Soon they would lose sight of them.
Tifa grabbed Cloud's arm and he looked at her again.
"I have to grab my gloves and gear," she told him. "We're going to fight Sephiroth, right?"
He did not respond, but Tifa was encouraged that he did not move away.
"I, too, have lost many things because of Sephiroth," she said.
And I will not lose you too, she thought fiercely.
"Wait for me. We'll fight him together."
The barest of nods. Tifa would take it. She ran from him, bursting into the bunkhouse. Heedless of waking the others she ran through the bunkroom toward the front room where their gear was drying. She grabbed for her gloves and yanked her snow suit onto her chilled limbs. There was no time to secure the spikes to her boots.
"Tifa? Wha-" Barret cut off and swore as he hit his head on the bunk above him.
Tifa's heart was racing, there was no time.
"I'm going with Cloud!" she said over her should as she headed toward the door. "Catch up with us! Please hurry."
She could hear the others stirring, a few voices crying out to her in sleepy protest. The door closing behind her cut them off. Tifa's sigh of relief was a white cloud of condensation in the frigid night air. Cloud was still there.
His back was turned to her, his feet in place, but his whole body strained to move. Tifa jogged forward. The moment she reached his side, he sprang into action, striding towards the Northern Crater with a tireless pace that now felt all too familiar.
Tifa followed.