Ocean's Echo
The world comes into focus slowly, like a watercolor painting blurring into life with slow and careful strokes. Tifa's eyelids flutter open, heavy as lead, her awareness flooded with coarse sand beneath her body and the rhythmic crash of waves nearby. The setting sun paints the sky in a palette of fiery oranges and deep reds and vivid pinks, the warmth a stark contrast to the chill that has settled deep in her bones.
Tifa tries to move, but her limbs feel waterlogged, as if the ocean is still clinging to her skin. Her dark hair, matted with sand and seawater, clings to her face as she turns her head, seeking something—someone.
That's when she sees him.
Cloud lies motionless beside her, his usually vibrant blonde hair dirtied and dulled by the sand and saltwater. His face, always so guarded and stern, now appears vulnerable in its stillness. The sight of him so pale and quiet ignites a primal fear in Tifa's chest.
"Cloud," she whispers, her voice hoarse from the saltwater and the strain.
No response.
Tifa's heart races as she forces her weary body to move. She crawls towards him, ignoring the screaming protest of her aching muscles. As she inches closer, she notices the faint rise and fall of his chest—he's breathing, but barely.
"Cloud, can you hear me?" Tifa's voice trembles as she reaches out to touch his face. Fear clutches her heart and she tries to push down the shaky feeling of bile rising in her throat. His skin is cool beneath her fingertips, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fading sunlight on her back.
Memories of their shared past unveiled in the glowing ethers of the Lifestream flood her mind—Cloud's rare smiles, his quiet strength, the way he always seemed to be there when she needed him most. The thought of losing him now, after everything they've just been through, is unbearable.
"Please, Cloud," she pleads, her voice barely a whisper. "You can't leave me. Not now. Not like this."
Tifa's hand moves to his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. It's there, but weak and erratic, short beats and pumps that struggle under the weight of so much buried trauma and strain. She knows she needs to act, to do something, but exhaustion weighs heavily on her, her limbs feeling like lead. Nonetheless, the sight of Cloud so vulnerable spurs her into action.
With trembling hands, she leans over Cloud, centering her fits just below his ribcage. She pushes down towards his heart in quick succession, silently thanking her martial arts training for giving her the strength to push through her own fatigue. As she works, she finds herself talking to Cloud, her words a mix of encouragement and desperate pleas.
"Come on, Cloud," she pleads desperately. "You're stronger than this. We've been through too much for it to end here."
Tears begin to flood her cheeks unbidden, and her mind races with all the things left unsaid between them. Their time in the Lifestream revealed so much and yet, so much still lingered. The quiet moments, the lingering glances, the unspoken connection that has always drawn them together hangs like a fading storm cloud above them, and her tears blur her vision as she sobs, knowing just how much Cloud means to her and how she can never, ever lose him again.
"I need you, Cloud," she whispers, tears mixing with the saltwater on her cheeks. "We all do. But... Ineedyou. Please, come back to me."
Tifa bends down to press her ear against Cloud's chest once more, the rough fabric of his shirt scratching her cheek. His heartbeat is faint, barely a whisper beneath her ear. She pulls back, her eyes scanning his face, and she determinedly wipes the tears from her eyes with the back of her fist, searching for any sign of consciousness.
"Cloud," she murmurs, her voice thick. "Can you hear me?"
There's no response. Tifa's heart races, the pounding in her ears drowning out the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. She cups his face in her hands, his skin cool beneath her touch.
"You've always been there for me," she says, her thumbs brushing his cheeks. "Even when you didn't know who you were, some part of you remembered me. Rememberedus."
Her mind flashes to their time in the Lifestream, how she had fought to pull him back from the brink of oblivion. This feels eerily similar, and just as terrifying. Perhaps even more so, because the other side is beyond them with a different sense of permanency.
She leans in close, her forehead resting against his. "We have too much left to do, too much left unsaid. You can't leave me now. Not when I've only just found you again."
Tifa is reminded of just days and hours ago in Mideel, crouched over Cloud's wheelchair, pleading for him to awaken and return to her. It seems that she can't win, can't escape whatever cruel actor of fate wants to continuously rip him away from her.
She chokes out another sob, her hands moving to his shoulders and gripping tightly as if trying to physically anchor him to this world. "Fight, Cloud. I know you can do it. You're the strongest person I know."
Her words hang in the air, a desperate prayer carried on the sea breeze. Tifa holds her breath, waiting, hoping for any sign that Cloud is still with her.
Her heart skips a beat as Cloud's body suddenly goes completely still beneath her hands. The faint rise and fall of his chest that she had been clinging to vanishes, and the weak pulse she'd felt earlier disappears entirely. The world around her goes as silent as his body does, a vacuum opening up around Tifa and leaving her feeling as if she's being sucked into its endless depths.
"No," she breathes, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves. "No, no, no."
Panic surges through her veins like ice, but Tifa forces herself to act. Her training kicks in, muscle memory taking over as she positions herself over Cloud's motionless form.
She presses her hands firmly against his chest, starting a fresh set of compressions. The sand shifts beneath her knees as she puts her whole body into the motion, silently counting in her head.
"Not like this, Cloud," Tifa whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears. Her lips tremble as she continues, "You can't leave me now. Not after everything we've been through."
Desperation drives her as she leans down, tilting Cloud's head back gently. She pinches his nose and seals her mouth over his, breathing her life into him. His lips are cold against hers, and the intimacy of the act pierces through her panic.
"Come on," she urges, resuming compressions. "You're stronger than this. You've faced down Sephiroth, for heaven's sake. Don't let the ocean be what takes you from me."
Tifa's mind races, memories flashing before her eyes. Cloud's rare, genuine smiles. The way his eyes softened when he looked at her sometimes, when he thought she wasn't noticing. His hand on her body or wrapped up in her own. All the moments they'd shared, all the unspoken feelings between them.
"We have too much left unfinished," she says, her voice breaking. "Too many things I haven't told you yet."
She leans down to breathe for him again, her tears falling onto his face. The taste of salt on her lips could be from the ocean or her own grief. There's no separating the two.
"Please, Cloud," Tifa pleads, her hands pressing harder against his chest. "Come back to me.I need you."
Tifa's vision blurs as she continues the compressions, her arms aching from the effort. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear her sight, unwilling to look away from Cloud's pale face for even a moment.
"Remember the promise you made?" she whimpers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Under the stars in Nibelheim? You said you'd come when I'm in trouble." Her lips quiver as she forces a sad smile, her tears streaking their way down her throat. "Well, I'm in trouble now, Cloud. I need you to keep that promise."
She leans down once more, breathing for him, silently willing his lungs to respond. As she pulls back, a memory flashes through her mind – their time in the Lifestream, how she fought to reach him, to pull him out of the darkness of his own fractured psyche.
"We've been through too much for it to end like this," Tifa says, her tone shifting from desperation to determination. "You fought your way back from the depths of your mind. You can fight your way back from this too."
Her hands shake as she presses down on his chest again, but her movements remain steady, driven by a fierce refusal to give up.
"Come back, Cloud," she whispers with each compression. "Come back to me."
Suddenly, a shudder ripples through Cloud's body, his chest heaving with a sharp, desperate breath. Tifa's heart leaps violently, her hands flying to her mouth as a sob escapes her. The relief that crashes over her is all-consuming, like breaking through the surface of deep water after drowning, overwhelming her senses.
"Cloud?" she chokes, her voice fragile, trembling with disbelief.
She collapses onto him, her body trembling as she presses her ear against his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing is a balm to her frayed nerves, each breath a sacred sound, like the sweetest melody she's ever heard. Beneath her cheek, his heart beats stronger with each passing second, its steady thrum radiating through her skin, chasing away the cold terror that had gripped her soul.
Tears fall freely now, warm and unrestrained, soaking into Cloud's dirt-streaked hair. She clings to him desperately, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, as if her very touch could anchor him to this world. The fear that he could slip away, that this could all be a fragile dream, still lingers in her mind, but the feel of him—solid, real, breathing—is everything she needs in this moment.
"You came back," she whispers, her voice breaking as she buries her face in his chest. Her lips brush against his skin with every word. "You kept your promise."
Cloud stirs beneath her, his hand moving weakly, his fingers seeking hers. When they finally meet, Tifa gasps, the soft pressure of his touch sending a surge of warmth through her, igniting something deep inside her. Slowly, she lifts her head, her breath catching as his eyes flutter open, just for a moment. Even unfocused, the unmistakable blue of his gaze is enough to steal her breath away.
"Tifa..." he murmurs, her name barely a whisper on his lips before his eyes drift closed once more.
Her heart tightens painfully, a knot of worry, joy, and relief twisting inside her. She squeezes his hand, her voice tender but firm. "I'm here, Cloud," she breathes softly. "I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."
With a quiet sob, Tifa pulls Cloud fully into her embrace, her arms winding protectively around his body. His weight against her is both grounding and comforting, as if his presence alone is enough to anchor her to this moment, to him. She presses her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in—deep and slow. His scent, salty from the ocean but mixed with something uniquely Cloud, floods her senses. It's a scent she knows all too well, one that carries with it countless memories—laughter in the warm glow of Seventh Heaven, stolen glances on rooftops, the quiet strength he brings to every battle.
"I almost lost you," she whispers, her lips brushing lightly against his neck, as if afraid her words might break the fragile peace of this moment. The thought of how close she came to losing him crashes into her all over again, and fresh tears well in her eyes. She clings tighter to him, pressing her body closer, as if she could hold all of him inside her arms and keep him safe, forever.
The stars overhead twinkle softly, casting a pale light on the beach, but for Tifa, the world has shrunk down to just this—Cloud's warmth against her, the reassuring sound of his steady breaths, the feel of his heart beating in time with hers. She tightens her grip around him, her fingers tracing gentle patterns across his back, over the strong muscles she's come to know so well, savoring every touch.
"I won't let go," she murmurs into the darkness, her voice soft but full of fierce determination. "Not this time. Not ever."
Every rise and fall of his chest beneath her is a promise—a reminder that he's still here, still hers. The steady beat of his heart against her is a lullaby, soothing her frayed nerves, wrapping her in the quiet peace she's been longing for. The adrenaline that had kept her going for so long begins to fade, leaving her body heavy with exhaustion, but she fights it, her fingers still clutching at his shirt as if letting go could undo everything.
She tries to keep her eyes open, but her body betrays her. The weight of everything they've been through presses down on her, pulling her under. Just for a moment, she thinks. She'll rest for just a moment. She leans into him, her head resting on his chest, his heartbeat like a gentle hum beneath her ear.
As her eyes flutter closed, the last thing she sees is the serene, peaceful look on his face, the blue-green seas and periwinkle sky their backdrop. The last thing she feels is the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing beneath her, his life force bleeding into hers. The last thing she hears is the gentle lapping of the sea against the quiet, forlorn shore. The last thing she smells is the salt of the sea mixed with the familiar scent of his skin. And the last thing she thinks is how, in this moment, she's whole again. Whole because he's here, because they've survived, because she has him back in her arms.
As she drifts into sleep, her lips press gently to his neck in a kiss that lingers, her heart silently whispering her gratitude. For his life, for this moment, and for the chance to hold him close once more.