Work Text:
She lived with an anxious heart and a clouded mind. Every step forward was a blur, reminding Tifa of an insignificant memory. Amidst cleaning her bar, she recalled piano lessons with her mother, only to unravel the chain of events that followed. Her smile vanished and agony hollowed out her stomach. It rendered her awake at night until she relived her past enough to craft another. It was a world where her mother survived and so did her father and everyone else in Nibelheim. There, she stayed in Nibelheim with her friends and grew up smiling and fulfilled her childhood dreams.
A perfect fracture of what she remembered, pieced back together to her liking. But it was a perfect lie and the reality was now cold ash—forgotten and scattered. Still, Tifa daydreamed of the possibilities. They melded with the hiccups throughout Midgar: what if she never joined Avalanche or pursued a career other than bartending or moved to a different sector? One question led to ten more until myriad thoughts screamed at her.
She lived in the past, barely aware of the present moment. Why bother, she wondered, when the present was fleeting at best.
And then she met Aerith.
“Just think of what you’re going to do when this is all over,” she told Tifa, barely knowing one another beyond an hour.
For the first time, Tifa basked in the luxury of the unknown. The pained memories of mistakes and circumstances beyond her control quieted. New thoughts bubbled within, ones marked with laughter and delightful warmth. Her tense muscles slackened and her lips curled. Tifa lost track of their ventures in the sewers as she created a mental list of the decorations to buy for the bar: coasters, refurbished lamps, dish towels, another shaker, and maybe some CDs for the jukebox if she was lucky.
And yet her heart continued to skip. Perhaps the anxiety laced within the future was responsible. But then they lost Aerith, albeit temporarily, and Tifa realized what elicited the rush of blood.
Upon finding Aerith, Tifa longed to latch onto her and squeeze tight. Anything to prevent her from slipping away again. But Tifa couldn’t hold her and she couldn’t stay while Barret and Cloud fought for Sector 7’s survival. It was Aerith’s smile and tender gaze which gave the final push, as if she told Tifa to go, to do what felt right.
Racing up the pillar, she thought of that shopping date they promised together. She thought of the stores to check out with Aerith, maybe even the cafes to relax in between purchases. Maybe they could visit areas piquing Aerith’s interest—and what was she interested in? Aerith was simultaneously the most and least girly girl Tifa had met. Perhaps flowers? Jewelry? Dresses, even? Or was she game for watching an action movie and a night of hard liquor and chicken wings after that?
Tifa shook her head and groaned, halfway up the never-ending staircase. It’s a shopping date, not a date-date, Tifa convinced herself. She wouldn’t want any of that… right?
But it was difficult to shop for the bar when there was no more Sector 7, just as it was difficult to do anything with Aerith when she disappeared.
It occurred to Tifa while she and the others situated themselves at Aerith’s home; instead of wallowing in the guilt and rage, she heeded Aerith’s advice and thought of the things to come. Once I help everyone out, Tifa thought, then I’m going to treat myself to something nice. Maybe it was a new dress or a night out indulging craft beers or a spa visit. The only constant as she swayed between the options was sharing the experience with Aerith.
“Can I come?” she had asked Tifa.
“You better!” Tifa had replied without a second thought.
Except Aerith wasn’t there. And yet it didn’t hinder Tifa’s daydreams. She tried not to wallow in the minute details of their short time together; no matter if Tifa changed her actions, she couldn’t change Aerith and her decisions. Besides, she would have told Tifa not to worry, to keep thinking of the next thing.
And when Elmyra finally gave her blessing to Avalanche, Tifa imagined another future.
When I find you, Tifa mused, each thought adding another lively bounce to her steps up the Sector 7 rubble, I’m going to hug you and tell you everything I’ve been thinking of. And if you laugh, that’s okay, because at least then, you’ll know. That’s real enough for me.
Between jabs and roundhouse kicks, Tifa repeated those words like a mental mantra. When I find you, she kept to herself as they scaled the debris to the topside of Midgar. When I find you, she thought as the sun fell and the colors imbuing the sky reminded her of the pinks Aerith wore. When I find you, she begrudgingly told herself with every blasted step up the stairs in Shinra Headquarters. Her muscles ached and breaths ran ragged, but the image of Aerith, alive and well, fueled Tifa to press on.
Yet when they did find her, all the promises she kept fizzled.
There were greater matters to focus on, one of which involved escaping the hell hole they crawled into. Cloud’s strange episodes added another worry to Tifa’s already tense shoulders, as did the appearance of a man she swore was long dead. Whatever strength she mustered faded. Tifa wobbled on her feet, physically and mentally exhausted. Her mind dipped into the past: the memory of her father’s death, the absence of all her childhood friends, the recent catastrophe in Sector 7, the—
A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Bare skin met with warm fingertips. Tifa hitched her breath and found Aerith from the corner of her eye. She smiled, just like Tifa imagined she would.
“It’s okay,” she said. “We’re going to get through this.”
Every fiber of Tifa screamed, unable to bear the truth. They traversed nightmare after nightmare without the faintest notion of light at the end. What if they didn’t get through this? What if the worst happened and their efforts, once again, were for nothing?
But a small voice murmured within Tifa, telling her to believe in Aerith. It’s okay, she echoed, eventually nodding to Aerith. Everything… it will be okay.
Aerith squeezed before walking on. Tifa stayed still, lost in thought; just as Aerith suggested, she focused on the future and what she wished to do.
Tifa followed and thought only of Aerith.
When this is over, I’ll tell you what’s been running through my head. Tifa stifled a chuckle. No, I’ll do better; I’ll show you.
She imagined them together. The location didn’t matter, so long as they were safe. Once they were, Tifa yearned to cup Aerith’s sweet face, draw her close, and smother her with kisses. Even if it was a single kiss and never again, Tifa needed it—she needed Aerith to know the influence she had over her.
Especially when a certain someone gave her a reason to believe in a future—any future.
Tifa replayed the imaginary scenario in her head throughout the Shinra Headquarters. What did she taste like? Were her lips as soft as her fingertips? Would she coo and gasp against her? Would she embrace her and reciprocate? No answers surfaced—only more questions. Yet they never stirred anxiety; they inspired a glimmer of something hopeful. Tifa failed to recall the last time she was excited for the events to come.
It was simply a matter of escaping the building alive. Toxic whispers taunted her; that dense fog lifted with each glimpse of Aerith. She was beside Tifa in their getaway vehicle, at the end of the road construction, and against the whims of a fate they never asked for. In time, they were victorious. Tifa barely caught her breath when the Whispers dissipated and the clouds parted to reveal blue skies. A second ago, she swore she stood in Don Corneo’s mansion, witnessing a stranger in an extravagant gown knock out a guy with a folding chair. How had their time together unraveled, yet froze?
She blinked and tilted her head back. The metal plate no longer blocked the view; Midgar sat in the distance, as did Shinra’s forces and thus their worries. For the time being, anyways. The only worry the team shared was where to go next. After that, perhaps the question of food and lodging would perk up. Tifa didn’t fret. Not when—
“I miss it.”
Tifa brought her attention to Aerith. She also looked above, though sadness marked her lovely features.
“What’s that?” Tifa asked.
Green eyes flicked about, almost searching for something. “The steel sky.”
Tifa frowned and averted her gaze. As relieved as Tifa was to leave Midgar, she hadn’t considered the perspective of one who grew accustomed to the metal confines. Maybe now’s not the time, then, she mused. She has enough going on and—
“You know what?”
Tifa blinked. “Hmm?”
A small smile surfaced on Aerith’s lips. Nothing as radiant as her usual grin, but it was there. Just like them.
“Looks like I won’t be able to keep our promise.” She shuffled closer to Tifa, hands locked behind her back. “Shopping topside with you? I was looking forward to our date.”
Tifa smirked. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“I know,” she huffed out, “I should be grateful we made it out alive, but….” Her eyes drifted, albeit briefly. “Maybe we can figure something else out?”
“A shopping date somewhere else?”
“Mmm, maybe.” She bit her lower lip. “I was thinking… that this time?”
Aerith took one large step, closing the distance between them. Gentle hands fell upon Tifa’s shoulders. Blush flooded her face, almost mirroring Aerith’s complexion.
“This time,” Aerith murmured, the tip of her nose poking Tifa’s, “we can do as we please. Whatever we want—fate isn’t holding us back anymore.”
Those last words squeaked past her lips, right before Tifa crushed her lips against Aerith’s. She did coo and gasp. She did melt into Tifa’s embrace, clinging back with equal fervor. She was soft and tender, yet passionate and eager. She was everything Tifa imagined and more. Tifa kissed her like it was the last time. Not a second to waste, every sip of air in her lungs depleted before they broke away.
They lingered there, breathless and frozen. Tifa locked eyes with Aerith. Her heart leaped into her throat and Aerith’s pulsed in time with hers. Then Aerith blinked, long lashes tickling Tifa’s cheeks, but it was the string of giggles that surprised Tifa.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Nothing!” Aerith said, buzzing with delight. “It’s just… I’m excited. I’m happy.” She squeezed Tifa. “I feel like we can take on the world and nothing can stop us. Almost like we’ve been doing this forever… but we’ve just met!”
Tifa chuckled. “Well, when you say it like that, it is rather silly.”
“But you’re happy, right?”
“Huh?”
Aerith cupped her face, a thumb idly caressing her cheek. “This? Is this what you wanted?”
Silence loomed between them. Then Tifa shattered it with laughter and hugged Aerith hard.
“Every time I fell back into my old patterns,” Tifa said, “and started to doubt anything, I thought of what you told me. And then… I thought of you and how you were what I was looking forward to. So yeah, this is what I wanted. Exactly this.”
Aerith nuzzled into her face and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Then let’s make our own future together, mmm?”
Tifa nodded. “You don’t need to ask me twice.”
By the time they unraveled themselves from each other and caught up with the others—along with providing a vague explanation for falling behind—Tifa forgot what transpired in Midgar. Hand-in-hand, she walked with Aerith. Fear didn’t mar her thoughts. She didn’t live in the past, anymore.
There was only the present moment.