Chapter Text
It’s nearing the end of autumn. The grass is starting to carry a thin layer of frost as the nights become harsher. The weather is undeniably colder than Aerith would like it to be. Warm breaths visibly travel through the air with each word she says; she hates it. There's something peculiar about being able to see the evidence of your speech, it makes her feel like her thoughts are tangible, impactful. It reminds her that she’s perceived, and part of her doesn't quite like it.
Maybe it’s due to the fact that she's become a bit susceptible to the opinions of others. It’s as if they can tell that she’s different, not completely normal. And for some reason, it hurts her deeply. She does her best to be cheerful and outgoing. But, deep down, she feels like her actions are nothing more than a shell to disguise her growing insecurity.
She often wonders if she's truly able to connect with people. Are they simply going through the motions? Does she actually matter to them? Would they care if she was gone, or maybe if something tragic happened to her?
She considers it all too often. Not quite killing herself, but maybe something extreme just to see how others would react. Maybe she’s a bit selfish; or sadistic, even. She wants to see them hurt, wants to see them feel sorrow or pain for her sake. Is that odd? She finds it hard to tell if these are her true feelings or just an exaggeration of the emptiness she can sense inside of herself.
Actually, she finds it embarrassing to even feel this way. It’s embarrassing to want to feel wanted–needed. Rather, she finds it hard to handle the fact that she craves validation. She can’t come to terms with her need to know that someone would feel completely and utterly broken without her. Seeing them plead and cry to whatever god might be out there, desperately begging to bring her back, it might make her feel whole for once.
It isn't until she finally senses it that she snaps out of her depressive train of thought. Someone's looking at her. Peering into her deeply in the middle of a lecture on basic biology. Aerith swears she feels a sudden chill despite how cold she’s already been due to the weather. The feeling travels down her spine and echoes throughout her ribs.
She carefully looks around for a moment, not wanting to make it obvious that she's searching the room for the gaze that pressures her and consumes her thoughts. Finally, she finds it. To her left, behind a boy who's diligently writing down notes from the professor's explanations on the board; a pair of warm, brown eyes. The color is so intense that Aerith nearly mistakes the brown for a crimson red. Or, maybe it was red? A type of maroon, perhaps. The kind of shade that so carefully threatens to draw your attention; captivating.
She's entirely suffocated by the scrutiny in the stare. She’s doing her best to not return the gaze directly, but she knows that she can't help but analyze the source of the irises that draw her in more as each second passes.
It's a girl around her age, maybe a bit younger. Her hair is a deep brown that Aerith would've assumed was black if it wasn't for the way that a few brown strands contrast against the artificial light of the room. Besides the warm-colored irises that somehow managed to carry a coldness, the girl’s entire face was quite eye-catching itself. She mentally analyzed each detail. Her lips looked soft, pleasant even. Her nose was just the right shape; perfect for her face. Her dark hair was quite long, but the girl had seemingly made it a point to tuck strands behind her left ear to reveal a silver earring that easily reflected the light.
Aerith couldn't quite tell what the girl was wearing, probably something dark colored, but it didn't matter to her. This girl was beautiful. So gorgeous that Aerith couldn't even fathom the fact that someone like that breathed the same air as her. How had she never noticed this girl before? Surely, it couldn’t be that hard to spot someone with that kind of beauty. Truthfully, Aerith thought of herself as nowhere near an eyesore. She was quite confident in her own looks. Yet, for some reason, this girl seemed unattainable. She couldn't be real.
But, there she was, looking at Aerith as if she would devour her right then and there. ‘What could possibly make her this interested in someone like me?’ Aerith thought to herself. Sure, Aerith thought that her personality was quite likable; she made friends easily and had a certain way with words. But, what about her would warrant this kind of infatuation? She had never felt so consumed by someone before. She felt as though she was falling into a trap she would never escape and forced herself to look away. Suddenly, she found herself focusing on the lesson with incredible concentration. She tried to drown out the thoughts that began to creep up. To want to learn more about someone like that, she must be completely out of her mind. This was dangerous.
Despite the way that each and every cell in her body screamed at her to resist and fight the urge to chase that chilling feeling, Aerith couldn't help the curiosity that overcame her. She glanced at the time on her laptop far too many times. When the class finally came to an end, she rushed to quench her thirst for something forbidden. Those eyes, they were like a sea of red that began to sink her. The gaze had left her alone shortly after she had looked away earlier, but she kept replaying the uneasy sensation of the stare over and over in her head.
Finally, she found her. Aerith thought that she might have no luck finding the girl after the bustling crowd that left the classroom, but she was lucky for once. She saw dark hair sway gently in the cold breeze just outside of the building. The girl, whoever she was, was standing there. That was her, without a doubt. The one that made Aerith shiver.
Aerith could clearly see what she was wearing now. It was a rather simple outfit. The girl wore a black jacket that was unzipped; which was odd given how cold it was. There was a cropped, white shirt underneath the jacket. She could see the girl’s stomach region, she was fit and her abdominal muscles were visible. The girl was wearing a pair of black jeans and red boots that added a striking addition of color to her outfit.
She was dressed quite differently than Aerith who was wearing a heavy, pink coat along with a pair of loose pants of a similar shade of pink. Her shoes were heavy-duty, brown boots suited for the upcoming winter weather. Her hair wasn’t in the usual braid that she loved dearly; she had woken up late and hadn't had time to perfect her look. She wasn't particularly concerned about that fact, though, she only had one class today. No need to get too worked up about her looks. She was more cozy than stylish.
Aerith felt her fingertips grow a bit numb, probably from the nerves that crept up from beneath her skin. It was beginning to grow dark outside; the class was a late one, after all. She remembers being upset over the fact that she would have to force herself through boring lectures at a time like this, but maybe it was worth it. As Aerith walked closer, she noticed that there was hardly anyone else around. It wasn't that odd for the campus to have little movement at a time like this, but this was her first time properly acknowledging it. She felt something akin to a dull fear start to bubble up inside of her.
She started to approach the person that so easily made her mind falter, but it was to no avail. The girl had started to walk away before Aerith could get close enough to talk to her properly. It was intentional, though. Aerith was certain that the girl knew she was there. So, she did the exact opposite of what all rational parts of her brain were telling her to do. She followed her. She trailed the girl from behind; just far back enough that it wasn't painfully obvious, but close enough to not lose sight.
The campus wasn't particularly large, so it wouldn't take anything more than a dozen or so minutes to exit the school grounds from where they were. Aerith knew this. She quietly hoped that the girl wouldn't go far. This was unlike Aerith. Since when was she this quiet? What was stopping her from simply shouting to get the girl’s attention? There was something that prevented her from doing what normally came so easily.
After only a few minutes of a casual stroll, the mysterious girl made an unusual turn. She parted from the main sidewalk and opted to walk on a small trail of tiny rocks and sand instead. The trail traveled through grass and led to an area of pavement behind a faculty building. This particular area didn't have many lights. Aerith had previously avoided it because of that exact reason. Yet, she found herself following that same trail.
The girl had finally stopped in her tracks. She was crouching down to pet a small, stray kitten that had wandered to the dimly-lit area. By now, there was hardly enough sunlight to provide natural lighting. Streetlights had begun to turn on, but this place remained relatively dark. Aerith slowly started to realize just how dangerous this really was. For someone who seemed to want to escape the responsibilities of life, she certainly was fearing death now. She had a pocket knife and some pepper spray in her pocket. It should be fine, right? She reasoned with herself.
When red eyes suddenly met green ones, Aerith froze. The girl was suddenly looking at her. She had finished gently stroking the cat and now turned to find the source of the quiet footsteps behind her. Aerith didn't say anything, she wasn't sure of what words would even be appropriate at that moment. Instead, the other girl spoke first.
“It’s rude to follow people.”
The girl said, her tone not necessarily mean, but still quite firm. Her voice was a bit on the deeper side. The girl had stood up, which made Aerith a little more intimidated because they were at eye level. Aerith realized how it undeniably looked like she was some sort of stalker and unconsciously began to fiddle with the hem of her jacket as she responded.
“You’re in biology, right? The class that just ended?”
Aerith manages to come up with some quick excuse. She watched as the girl observed her. The red-eyed girl seemed to look into her rather than simply at her as she spoke. Aerith noticed the way the girl’s breaths became visible in the chilled air, but they weren't quite the same as Aerith’s own. Not nearly as much volume. Not quite as warm.
“You followed me all the way here just to ask about biology? Are you sure that's all you want?”
The girl questioned. When Aerith didn't immediately say something in response, the girl decided to approach her. Aerith stumbled back a few steps, but she was outpaced by the girl who was so leisurely walking towards her. Aerith nearly tripped over a rock that was just heavy enough to disrupt her footsteps. She braced herself for the feeling of hitting the ground, but it never came. The girl had caught her. Cold fingers gripped her by her arm and pulled her onto her feet, the girl was strong.
Aerith started to wonder what fucked up kind of logic she was following that even made her end up in this situation. Oh. That’s right. It was because that wasn't the first time she had felt those crimson eyes analyzing her. There were numerous occasions. Again and again she found herself subject to the intense pressure of the gaze. She had finally been pushed to her limit; she absolutely had to learn the reason for her occasional discomfort.
She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried that her fall was prevented. On one hand, she wouldn't have to deal with a scrape or bruise from the harsh texture of the ground. On the other, she was now forced to acknowledge the girl’s presence. She felt her skin on her own. The girl was real. She was staring right at her, Aerith was. And damn, she looked even prettier up close.
When Aerith finally felt the girl’s grip loosen, she rushed to say something–anything. But, she was interrupted before she even started.
“Careful. Don’t you still need my notes? That was what you needed, wasn't it? You should look at the professor instead of me next time.”
The words are muttered beneath her breath, something close to a whisper that is almost blown away by the wind. She spoke in a sort of mocking tone. She was so close; it felt impossible to escape. It was now when Aerith realized that the girl was actually a bit taller than her. Not by a huge margin, but it was enough to make Aerith notice.
“I-uh, just wanted to talk. I thought you looked familiar or something, but I guess I was wrong.”
Aerith responded, and the other girl wasted no time to continue the conversation.
“Hm, you’ve seen me somewhere? Thought you were some kinda creep that was obsessed with looking at me.”
She had to be teasing. How could she act so clueless? As if she wasn't threatening to consume Aerith from just her gaze alone in that classroom. Was Aerith mistaken? Was it all in her head? Aerith was ready to make up some lie about genuinely getting the girl confused for someone else, but then she heard that voice once again.
“Kidding! I’ve been watching you for a while now, you know? I’m surprised it took you this long to decide that you cared. Wanna know something? I love this spot. It’s dark and the camera’s been busted for ages. The perfect place to lead a curious girl like you.”
The girl said it like some sort of taunt. She knew. She was doing this on purpose. Her words felt poisonous, completely intentional. There was that look again, that godforsaken gaze that made Aerith feel as though her shell had fallen apart. Aerith tried not to let her growing anxiousness get the better of her, she was going to soothe her interest one way or another, even if it meant talking to someone who seemed so calculating. She was dangerous.
“You…”
Aerith trailed, trying to find the right words. It took her a moment to figure out what to say.
“What do you want from me?”
She asked directly instead of beating around the bush. She absolutely had to find some sort of information. This had been nagging at her for weeks now. It’s been weeks since the first shades of red started to taint her life. The other girl let out a light laugh in response. Why would she laugh so suddenly? Aerith would be lying if she said that she didn't find the girl’s laugh to be enticing. It was as if she was beautiful just by existing. Even then, Aerith couldn't help but notice how manufactured the smile that plastered itself across the girl’s face seemed. She was hiding something, or maybe she wasn't. Regardless, it was obvious that there was something off about her.
“You smell so sweet. Like some kinda flower, maybe? Do you like flowers?”
The girl avoided answering the question directly. She didn't say anything else, forcing the girl to comply with the topic if she wanted any sort of clear answer. She crossed her arms casually as she waited for Aerith to respond.
“I take care of some in my free time.”
Aerith hears the other girl hum in acknowledgment.
“You know, I really like carnations; the red ones. Most people think they symbolize love. But, to me, it always seemed more like something else. Something closer to possession. That sounds about right.”
The girl states. Aerith wishes that she was misunderstanding the connotation. But, frankly, there was no other way to interpret the girl’s words. Aerith starts to get even more frustrated with the ridiculousness of it all. She’s biting her lip out of nervousness to hide another feeling that starts to show itself. She speaks firmly. And maybe she’s a bit too direct, because she immediately starts to worry that she might have just upset the girl in front of her.
“Just say what you want already. Why won't you leave me alone?”
Aerith receives a response far quicker than she had expected.
“Like I said, you smell sweet. It distracts me. I couldn't help myself. I had to get you alone–had to have you here. Now I can figure out what it is about you that I can’t seem to resist. Honestly, you’re pretty cute up close.”
She’s still being indirect. None of the seeming word vomit actually solves anything. It just makes Aerith’s fear start to be overcome by complete frustration. The girl seems to sense this, though. She keeps talking.
“Relax. You're in no position to make demands here. So, just be good and listen to me, okay?”
She pauses to listen out for any sort of rebuttal. Aerith obeys her words; seemingly believing the fact that she couldn't fight or escape if she wanted to. There’s something particularly threatening about this girl, it would be idiotic to do anything rash right now.
“Here, let's start with this. I already know who you are, Aerith. So, I’ll make it even. I’m Tifa. Tifa Lockhart. Does that make you feel better now?”
The truth was, this made her feel worse. How could this girl, Tifa, already know her name? If she knew her name, then what else could she know? How long has she known? Just what is her goal? Aerith’s mind travelled through a million different possibilities and outcomes. And then Tifa spoke again, which snapped her out of her thoughts.
“I told you to relax. Don't worry, I’m not gonna hurt you. How could I ever harm you? You’re too pretty to taint. Unless, you give me a reason to. But, that’s besides the point. I’ll make it simple. Truth is, I have a job to do. And that job involves protecting you. You're rare, Aerith. There are people that would do anything just for a taste of you.”
A taste? Aerith questions to herself. It seems like Tifa knows exactly what she’s thinking.
“I’ll show you.”
Tifa says. And then she opens her mouth a bit and points to her canines. Aerith’s a bit confused, the girl’s teeth don't seem any bit abnormal. But, upon closer inspection, her eyes widen as she truly sees. The girl’s incisors are large and clearly sharp. It wasn't quite noticeable until now, Aerith wonders if they were always like this. It’s possible that Tifa could control this sort of thing. Regardless, Aerith feels a shiver beneath her skin as she realizes that Tifa is anything but normal.
Of course, Aerith knew that vampires or something akin to them were real. She had always been fascinated by the concept of the supernatural. However, she was under the impression that she would never have to encounter one. There were occasional stories of vampire attacks or rumors that spread. Not nearly enough to make Aerith seriously consider the possibility of being confronted by one. Yet, here Tifa was, looking at Aerith as if she was prey.
“Understand now? You know, it was hard to keep my distance from you for all that time…”
Tifa trails. Suddenly, she’s nearing closer to Aerith. The green-eyed girl only just realizes that she's being backed into a corner. She hadn't noticed that she was so close to the wall of the building until she felt her back make contact with the cool brick. Tifa keeps talking as she forces Aerith to press herself against the cold surface behind her.
“I had to wait for you to approach me. It was so so hard. You just look so good. I want to know how you would taste so badly.”
Aerith’s breath gets caught in her throat when she sees Tifa lean in. Tifa’s so close. Her lips just inches away from the girl’s neck, as if she’s desperate to close the distance between them until there's nothing left. Tifa uses a hand to gently grab the girl’s throat; angling it in a way that gives her better access to the sensitive area of her nape. Aerith involuntarily lets out a sort of groan in response to the combination of movements.
Seriously, what is this? Aerith has absolutely no space to move. She’s usually more than capable of getting herself out of uncomfortable situations. She’s not some sort of pushover who can easily be forced into something. But this…this is different. Maybe forced isn't quite the right word. Because, deep down, she thinks that if she tried to resist, Tifa would allow her to. There must be some reason that Tifa hasn't actually hurt her yet. She would probably back off if Aerith pleaded, but she doesn't get the opportunity. The pressure at Aerith’s throat suddenly dissipates.
“It’s a shame. I’m not supposed to do anything to you. I bet you’re thankful, aren't you?”
She asked the second part with a hint of a thing that Aerith couldn't quite place, as if she was being entertained by this. Tifa pulls away and allows the girl a chance to regain her composure. As red irises focus on the girl’s lips for a fraction of a second too long, Aerith hesitates to reach for the knife in her pocket that begs to be acknowledged.
"That is...unless you don't want to be protected? I won't force you into anything. But, if you say no, that means nothing is stopping me from doing what I want right now."
Tifa says as she unapologetically looks at Aerith as if she was her last meal. Aerith swears Tifa has some sort of irrational control over her with the way that she carries herself. It’s undeniably dangerous, and Aerith finds herself still thinking that Tifa is so breathtakingly beautiful. She can hardly focus on anything else but the sudden desire to get closer, to chase that suffocating feeling that Tifa gives her.
She snaps out of it, though. Aerith must be fucking crazy to have those thoughts in a situation like this. Tifa’s some sort of sadistic vampire that’s threatening to drink her blood; or possibly something even worse. How could this possibly be the time to focus on appearances? Aerith takes a deep breath and swallows before she finally speaks again.
"What exactly is it that I'm being protected from, anyways? What makes me so special? I mean, like..how do you even know me?"
Tifa scoffs.
"C'mon, don't act so clueless. Think about it. Why is it that you haven't tried to stab me with that knife yet? You're hesitating. What are you hiding, Aerith?"
Aerith starts to panic, she retorts almost immediately after Tifa had finished speaking.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not-"
Tifa interrupts her. Her voice is a bit harsh as she speaks lowly. She leaves Aerith no opportunity to do anything but hear her words.
"This isn't the time to lie, Aerith. Not to me. Not to yourself. You've spent your whole life running away from who you really are. Deep down, a part of you knows. You were never truly human. Admit it."
Aerith finds this unpleasant. She's trapped and having to face her fears; her fear of herself especially. She suddenly remembers the look on her mother’s face as the woman bled to death on the cold ground. She can see it all so clearly. The image is burned into the deepest crevices of her mind. She can nearly feel the hurt, the cold all over again. The reason that she felt so depressive wasn't simply because of trivial life matters. It was like Tifa said; an attempt to run away from who she truly was. Aerith was disgusted by the fact that the thing that abruptly ended her mother’s life would eventually come to end hers, too.
There was something special about her. Aerith knew it all too well. Well, to be fair, her mother was the truly special one. The woman had carried a rare gene, one that had been passed down through bloodlines for centuries. People began to fear–despise–this uniqueness and destroyed every trace of it. Her mother had become the last of her kind in what seemed like the blink of an eye.
This gene made her mother fundamentally different. She was pure, holy in a sense. She could sense things in nature and people alike. It was like some sort of ancient or divine being had bestowed a fraction of its power to her. Aerith didn't quite understand it well, to be honest. She was young when her mother passed. She never had the opportunity to get a firm grasp of what made this ability so dangerous to others, so sought after.
There was one thing that she knew for sure, though. The gene manifested in a certain way. It wasn't very useful when it came to the living; it mainly affected the dead. Aerith had figured it out some years ago. Perhaps when she was around eleven or twelve. She was tending to a bed of flowers in her mother's garden. A few of them had sadly succumbed to a particularly detrimental night of frost, it reminds Aerith again of how much she hates winter. She went to dispose of them, return them back to the soil in an effort to make sure that their nutrients wouldn't go to waste, but then it happened.
She had accidentally pricked the tip of her finger on the thorn of a rose. Aerith hadn't really noticed; her hands were quite used to the occasional harm of taking care of delicacy. It had to have been the tiniest tear of skin, just enough to cause a small bead of blood to form at the injury. When red liquid made contact with the gradually-wilting plant, it was strange. The brown stalks began to fade to green, and the petals suddenly became nourished once again.
That was when Aerith realized what made her special. What Tifa referred to as 'sweet,' was the very thing that killed her mother: the godforsaken blood that ran through her veins.
Tifa notices Aerith's obvious discomfort and uses it as an opportunity to capitalize off of the girl’s emotions. She wanted Aerith to be scared, but this wasn't any sort of fear that she had caused. It was more like anxiety from recalling a past trauma. Perfect. Tifa could get what she wanted as long as Aerith was like this.
"So, what do you want to do? It may be my responsibility to protect you, but they gave me full rein to do whatever I wanted if you didn't agree. So, you have two options. Either agree, or die here. Simple. It's your choice."
Aerith realizes how frantically her heart is beating and tries to calm herself. She can practically feel the way that her blood rushes through her veins in desperation. She mocks herself in her mind. Would adrenaline even help her right now? She felt pathetic. Tifa hasn't actually done anything, yet she’s still scared out of her mind. What was she so afraid of, again? The thought of practically getting devoured? Well, honestly, that didn't sound so bad now. She was tired of living anyways. It was weird, though. She hadn't felt this way ever since her mother died. This was the first time in years that she’s felt so alive, maybe she wanted to keep feeling this way.
"If I agree, what's the catch?"
Aerith asks after she manages to catch her breath for a moment.
"Good question. Here's the deal: I keep you safe, and you use that precious blood of yours to help me out. It's transactional. Sound good, flower girl?"
Aerith didn't find that answer specific enough and asked for more clarification.
"I'm helping you with what, exactly?"
Tifa took a moment to think after hearing the question. She probably wasn't actually thinking; and was instead feigning to make her words seem more organic, less calculated.
"Well, let's just say, I have a bone to pick with someone. Once the higher ups decide I've done a good enough job protecting you, they'll agree to let me go, see?"
She points towards the choker around her neck. Aerith had noticed it earlier, when Tifa had walked closer to her, but she hadn't noticed anything special about it. Perhaps, it was some sort of tracker or maybe a device that limited Tifa’s capabilities?
"I have a bit of a..history with the higher ups. Used to cause them all sorts of trouble. Now, I’m one of their soldiers; first class. Alright, you've heard my life story. So, what'll it be? It's your call."
Aerith thinks that Tifa must be lying about something. It doesn't quite add up, but she can't put her finger on why. How come she’s even allowed a choice in this? What's stopping Tifa from taking her by force, or injuring her so that she couldn't escape even if she wanted to? Why couldn't Tifa have approached her ages ago? For some reason, she had to wait for Aerith to go to her first. Part of the story must be missing. There's a mischievous look in Tifa’s eyes, like she’s daring Aerith to question her. Tifa is surely hiding something, too.
“Okay. I’ll do it, Tifa.”
Aerith says the girl’s name for the first time as she commits to something that unsettles a part deep inside of her. She absolutely cannot let herself fall victim to someone that makes her entire world freeze over. Tifa is far too dangerous to be trusted.
Tifa smiles softly as she acknowledges the words.
“Good. You won’t regret it.”