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Tifa doesn’t know what time it is when she wakes. Her mouth is full of the dust of tearing concrete, the metal tang of the falling steel and a scream, a scream of terror, anger, grief—
When she takes in her first breath, the faint smell of dried petals washes away the remnants of the nightmare. A clock ticks in the corner by the windowsill. The frayed edges of the bedding scratch lightly against her skin. Aerith’s room is dark, Marlene is snoring softly, and there are soft footsteps outside the door.
Is Cloud having trouble sleeping again? Or is it Elmyra, worrying about Aerith?
Slowly untangling herself from Marlene, she shuffles gently off the bed and ambles out of the room. She closes the door behind her as quietly as possible and turns towards the hall to see who it is she’s come out to help; but it's not the broad steel of a sword or the dignified knot of an apron that she sees. The back of a red jacket and a thick braid heads down the stairs and out of sight, and Tifa holds her breath.
She follows with controlled movements: hurried, but just slow enough to muffle her footsteps. Pushing through the front door carefully, she takes a sharp breath when she catches sight of Aerith kneeling in one of the flowerbeds. Apprehensive footsteps take her down the path, speeding up on the bend around the tall rock but slowing again when tranquil and elegant Aerith comes back into view.
“Aerith,” she breathes, her feet stopping just shy of the flowerbed. Aerith turns and smiles at her.
“Hey there.”
She’s beautiful, sitting there amongst the flowers like that— the softly swaying petals bring something melancholy out in the sweet tinge of her smile. Tifa steps forward and opens her mouth to say something, but stops as she catches sight of the sky: thousands of green lights floating upwards, a fair distance away, ethereal.
“Is that…”
Aerith looks up as well, rising to her feet.
“Yeah.”
Nails dig into her palm past the thick leather of her gloves before she feels warm hands grasp her trembling fists— she blinks and looks down from the green of the lives she couldn’t save to the green in Aerith’s eyes.
“You made a difference.” She brings Tifa’s hands up and clasps hers over them, just like Tifa did the last time they saw each other. “Don’t forget that.”
Tifa unfurls her fists to hold Aerith’s hands too, frowning as her bottom lip trembles. She opens her mouth, but closes it again before letting any grieving words through and shakes her head.
“Are you really here, or…” She squeezes Aerith’s hands. “Am I just dreaming?”
Aerith smiles and shrugs, pulling her hands away to clasp them behind her back.
“Who knows?”
A cryptic answer and a playful smile— but the soft night air of the garden diffuses pretense, and her lightheartedness rings unfalteringly blue and bittersweet. Tifa shakes her head.
“Aerith, I…” She hesitates. “Where did they take you?” She takes a step forward. “Are you okay?”
Aerith turns away, bouncing playfully on the balls of her feet.
“Back to the Shinra building.” She clasps her hands behind her back instead, taking a few steps away. “I used to live there when I was really little.”
Tifa hesitantly reaches for Aerith, her fingers almost brushing the back of her jacket, before she pulls her hand back to her chest.
“I know. Elmyra… your mom told us about how she found you.”
Aerith nods cheerfully before smiling at Tifa over her shoulder. “Yup. So it’s kind of like, I’ve gone back to my childhood home,” she says, turning to Tifa again, “you know?”
Tifa presses her fist against her chest just above her sternum and clenches her jaw, trembling as she stares down at the flowers between them.
“Hey,” Aerith murmurs, “don’t look so sad. It’s not that bad, I promise. They bring me nice food and everything.”
Tifa’s fist clenches harder, her face crumpling.
“Please—” her voice breaks and she stops to take a breath. “Please tell me the truth.”
Aerith looks down as well, her smile barely holding itself on her face.
“The truth is…” she softly rubs one thumb over another. “I don’t want you to worry about me.” She looks up again, smiling— regaining her steady cheer. “I’m gonna be okay in the long run. Really.”
Tifa shakes her head and steps closer once again, now firmly in Aerith’s space once again.
“How could I not worry about you, Aerith, it’s— it’s my fault they got you,” she whispers.
Aerith laughs lightly.
“Come on, give me a bit more credit,” she teases, “it’s not like I would’ve left Marlene there if you hadn’t asked me, you know.”
Tifa’s dark hair falls into her face. “Still. I had no right to ask. It was wrong for me to get you involved at Wall Market in the first place, I—”
“Hey,” Aerith interrupts with a laugh, poking Tifa lightly in the forehead. “I’ll have you know I was the one who dragged Cloud with me to help you.”
Tifa doesn’t say anything, her eyes still searching Aerith’s face for accusation, for the cracks of a facade meant to placate— but Aerith just reaches up to hold Tifa’s hands once more, this time threading their fingers together.
“I’m not some hapless princess who can’t say no to people, you know.” Her airy tone smoothes into something more steady, more even. “Every decision I’ve made so far has been my own. So please. Stop blaming yourself for everything.”
For a moment, they just hold each other as their words sink into the loamy earth. The night bathes them in the euphony of the sweet flowers, the soft lights, and the veil of unfamiliarity that's parted by only one night of moments together, yet still just barely fills the space between them.
“You know,” Aerith starts, studying the creases in the joints of Tifa’s fingers. “I had a feeling you were the one he gave the flower to.”
Tifa blinks. “Sorry?”
Aerith giggles. “The flower. I saw it in Seventh Heaven.” She gently coaxes Tifa’s hand open and presses her fingertips to Tifa’s. “I was wondering who he’d given it away to.”
“Oh.” Tifa laughs softly as Aerith presses their palms together. “So it was from you.” The corners of her eyes crease as she furrows her brows. “Sorry. An old lager bottle was all I could find—”
Aerith cuts her off with a giggle. “You apologize too much, you know that?” Bringing their hands down, she upturns Tifa’s palm and traces patterns into her wrist. “I was impressed by how good it looked, actually. They don’t usually last that long after I sell them.”
Tifa watches Aerith run a finger over the hard leather of her glove. “I tried to keep it alive as long as I could. I really loved it.”
Aerith tips her chin up and gives her a smile— not like the even ones she’s been giving all night that are heavy with the effort of trying to be light, but a full, bright grin that Aerith bites down on bashfully if only for how adamantly it burgeons.
“Well,” she says, folding her hand over Tifa’s. “I’m glad it found someone who appreciated it.”
Tifa goes to clasp her other hand over Aerith’s, stopping when she simply phases through and sweeps up a flurry of green lights from Aerith’s skin.
“What…” She looks up as the green lights start to flicker and swirl around all of Aerith, dancing around her sigh. Reaching out for her shoulder but finding no purchase, Tifa lets her hand hover against Aerith’s jacket. “You… you have to go, don’t you?”
Aerith nods, reaching up to hold her hand steady above Tifa’s. “Yeah. Sun’s rising.”
Tifa’s face crumples. “Wait, I…” Her hold on the space where Aerith should be tightens ever so slightly, her bottom lip starting to tremble again. “I don’t know what to do.”
Aerith tilts her head with a smile. “About what?”
“About you. I’m afraid of making things worse for you,” she murmurs. “But I can’t just leave you there. Not when I’m the reason they have you.”
Aerith laughs, shaking her head. “Didn’t I tell you not to blame yourself so much? It’s okay.” She raises her hand to where she would be cradling Tifa’s face. “Don’t worry about me. Just…” She lets her fingers trail down Tifa’s cheek, along her jaw, and then down towards her chest. “Follow your heart.”
Tifa watches Aerith’s fingers ghost over her collarbone. “Just like you said before, right?”
Aerith grins up at her as the dawn light shines through her. “Yeah. Just like I said before.”
Tifa’s eyes flicker over the wisps of Aerith fading into the morning.
“I’ll see you soon, then,” she says, laying her hand over where Aerith’s fingertips filter into her heart. “Okay?”
Aerith’s smile is warm against Tifa’s face, lightning up the garden with a new day.
“Okay.”
This is when it starts. They’re sitting in Aerith’s old room with the drawn-on walls, waiting for Cloud to wake up. Barret’s recalibrating his arm, Red seems to meditating, and Tifa pulls a slightly crumpled flower from her pocket with a sigh of delighted relief.
“It made it, thank goodness,” she says, straightening out some of the petals. “I was worried I’d crush it on the way here.”
Aerith scoots closer, peering over. “Hey, is that…”
Tifa gives her a slightly guilty-looking glance. “Yeah. I took it from your garden before we left. I’m sorry, I know I should’ve asked first, but…”
“It’s okay,” Aerith giggles. “I wasn’t exactly there to ask. I don’t mind you helping yourself, really— you could’ve taken more than one, if you wanted.”
Tifa smiles a little sheepishly. “Well, it’s not for me. I brought it for you.”
Aerith blinks when the flower’s held out to her, taking it from Tifa’s grasp slowly. “For… me?”
“Yeah. It means reunion, right?” Tifa tilts her head in that cute way she does. “I looked it up. People used to give them to each other when they were reunited.”
Lovers. Lovers used to give them when reunited, but it’s an old enough custom that Tifa might have picked up a slightly different connotation or interpretation from a different book and meant absolutely nothing by it—
And still. Aerith’s eyelashes flutter as she takes in the gift, carefully tracing the edge of a petal.
“I know it’s kind of silly to gift you your own flower, but…” Tifa tucks her chin and hides behind her hair for a moment. “I guess I just wanted to bring you a little piece of home. To tide you over until we bust you out of here for good, you know?”
“It’s…” Aerith cradles the stem with both hands. “It’s not silly at all.” She looks up at Tifa. “Thank you.”
The smile Tifa gives her is even warmer than the hand she places over Aerith’s knee, squeezing lightly.
“It’s the least I can do.”
It’s not. There are much, much lesser things Tifa could do for a girl she’s known for less than two days, but here she is, fighting through an army of Shinra troops to make sure that Aerith makes it home without an ounce of hesitation.
And here Aerith is. Holding a flower that symbolizes lovers’ reunions, one that thrums with the love and care of the girl who delivered it— here she is, sitting next to that girl, struck by the stars in her eyes, realizing:
This is when it starts.