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They’ve been whispering for quite a while now, the mother and the young daughter in the hammocks to her left. Tifa hasn’t been able to sleep, not yet, so the chatter doesn’t bother her that much. It’s almost a pleasant distraction from her current thoughts, the evening replaying itself over and over like a movie in her mind.
It’s the quiet times like these, the moments between one battle and the next, that really mess with her. Everything Zangan and his manuals taught her, methods of seeking focus, finding calm, all those things that serve her so perfectly when they fight seem to vanish as soon as the physical threat before her is gone.
She eventually hears a slight creaking as the mother gets out of the hammock beside her, socked feet swishing a bit against the floor as she approaches.
“Miss?” the woman whispers in the darkened cabin, her voice shaking. “Miss, I’m sorry to bother you…”
There are a few small night lights positioned along the cabin walls, mostly to guide passengers to and from in the dark if needed. In the dim light, she can see that the woman’s whole body is shaking too. Before she can sit up, the woman gives Tifa’s hammock a little tug as well.
“Miss?”
Tifa reaches out a hand, finds the woman’s arm. “Yes? What is it? Is something wrong?”
“I…I’m sorry to bother you,” she says again, “but Maggie…that’s my daughter, Maggie, she needs to use the washroom.”
Tifa’s confused but gives the woman’s arm a squeeze to continue.
“You…helped fight those monsters. I’m sorry to ask, but would you be able to take Maggie? She’ll be safer with you…”
Tifa wants to tell the frightened woman that the danger has passed, that the walk down the hall to the passenger washrooms is perfectly safe. That the strange fiends that found their way onto the Shinra-8 have all been defeated, but she doubts that would be a comfort. It takes time to recover from something like this. Tifa knows that better than most. But of course she’s used to fighting, to jumping right into the fray, even when she’s scared. These people are not, and what happened tonight will stay with these innocent passengers for a long, long time.
“Why don’t you both come with me?”
“Alright…alright then…”
There’s no ‘thank you,’ no sounds of relief. Only the mother tugging on her hard enough to bruise as soon as Tifa’s got her boots laced up, bringing her to the daughter’s hammock. Without another word from mom the child is lifted and shoved straight into her arms, the little girl’s hand yanking her hair as she tries to cling on to her, and Tifa swallows down a moment’s irritation.
This woman is terrified. Her daughter is terrified. They don’t mean any harm. They don’t mean to be rude. All they know in this moment is that Tifa can keep them safe, and that’s a level of trust she refuses to betray.
The little girl is so soft, so light in her arms. “Hi Maggie. I’m Tifa.”
“Tifa,” a small, scared little voice mumbles in the dark. “I hafta go.”
“Then let’s get you to the potty, okay?” Tifa whispers back gently.
With the mother at her heels, Tifa heads for the cabin door, opening it as quietly as she can manage and heading into the corridor. The lights are dimmed out here too, but now she can see Maggie better. She’s got messy blonde curls, a cute red dress with a chocobo on the front, and she’s a bit younger than Marlene. Her heart aches in that moment for the sweet little girl left behind in Midgar, but at least Tifa knows she’s safe with Elmyra for now. Selfishly, Tifa’s also grateful that Marlene didn’t have to see the horrible things on board the Shinra-8 that poor Maggie had. Seeing what happened to Sector Seven would have been traumatizing enough, but Tifa does her best to shake that awful thought away.
“Come on, we’re almost there.”
There are a few crew members stationed in the corridor. Blocking off stairwells, cleaning up carpets. Tifa sees one hurriedly wiping a blood splatter from the wall, and Tifa ensures that Maggie’s looking the other way as they pass. The crew nods at her, looking tired but appreciative as she heads down to the end of the hall.
They make it to the washroom, and once Tifa ensures that things are clear and that the only scary item in the room is the noisy hand dryer, she lets the mother take over. “I’ll stay right here by the sinks, okay? I won’t leave.”
The mother only responds with a shaky nod, taking Maggie from her and heading for the closest toilet stall. The whispers between parent and child start up again as soon as the stall door is closed and locked.
This leaves Tifa alone with her own thoughts again, her own lingering terror. The same thoughts that have kept her awake in her hammock ever since they returned from the cargo hold.
They were in the middle of the ocean and still had come under attack. She shuts her eyes, unable to get the image of those monsters wrapping themselves around the robed men out of her mind. Their agonizing screams as the fiends somehow merged with them, forming something even more frightening. She can still hear the decisive shots of Captain Titov’s rifle as he put down the other robed men. Not one of them had a fighting chance.
That hadn’t been the end of it either. No, then there’d been Jenova, its own screams and darkness, the same unsettling illusions they’d seen in the Shinra Building before. The only way through had been to fight, and because she’d had Barret and Cloud at her side, she’d been able to stay in it, stay focused, destroy the illusion. But what she hadn’t been able to handle, hadn’t been able to fix was the look on Cloud’s face in the aftermath.
His confusion, his fear, his anger as he’d staggered away, heading for his cabin without another word to any of them.
No words besides “I’m no fool…”
She shakes her head. Every step on this journey has put her and her friends in danger. At every turn they’ve had to confront something worse and worse and worse. Tonight was one more, and she doubts it’ll be the last.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually the toilet flushes and Maggie’s the first to come running out, wrapping her arms around Tifa’s legs, letting out a soft giggle that Tifa’s relieved to hear.
“Hey now, you have to wash your hands,” the mother calls out, obviously embarrassed, but she’s looking a lot less scared now at least.
“I’m Tifa, by the way,” she says to the mother once Maggie’s hands are washed and dried. They linger by the sinks for a moment.
“Ellie,” the mother says, finally able to look Tifa in the eye, her face flushed. Tifa realizes that the woman isn’t much older than she is. “My husband’s been working on a construction job at one of the Costa del Sol resorts. I’m not used to traveling without him. I…I thought this would just be a nice little cruise. I’m really sorry for freaking out at you. It’s been hard enough while he’s been gone and…gosh, and then all of this…”
Tifa does her best to offer a reassuring smile. “Everything’s going to be okay now, I promise.”
“Because Tifa got rid of the monsters,” Maggie announces.
“That’s right,” Ellie says. “Now it’s time to go to bed for real so we can see Daddy in the morning.”
Tifa holds the door for Ellie to pass through, Maggie scooped up in her arms this time. As they return to the corridor, Tifa’s surprised to see a familiar face. It’s Cloud, emerging from the men’s washroom across the way. From the look in his eyes, he hasn’t been able to sleep yet either.
Before Tifa can say anything, Ellie’s hurrying over to him. “It’s you! With the sword! You fought the monsters too, didn’t you?”
“Yeah…” Cloud manages to say, clearly caught off guard at the sudden approach.
“We owe our lives to you and your wife,” Ellie blurts out. “You saved us, all of us passengers. I don’t know how to thank you!”
“My…my what?” Cloud stammers out, and Tifa feels her face grow hot at Ellie’s misunderstanding.
She steps forward, resting a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you both back to the cabin...”
Ellie shakes her head, waving Tifa off, looking almost starstruck by Cloud. “No, no, we’ll be fine from here. Maggie, say thank you to the nice man.”
“Thank you, Tifa,” the little girl says. “Thank you, Mister Tifa.”
“Have a good journey, the both of you. We owe you,” Ellie says before turning and walking off, Maggie waving over her shoulder as they head back toward the passenger cabins.
Cloud turns to look at her, deeply confused. “Mister Tifa?”
“They’re staying in the same cabin as me and Aerith,” Tifa explains, hoping the dim lighting in the corridor is keeping her reddening face from being too obvious. “The little girl had to use the bathroom, but they were too scared to go out on their own.”
They stand there in silence a moment, and Tifa feels the uncomfortable weight of Ellie’s words lingering between them. You and your wife.
“They must have seen us fighting together,” she mutters, unable to look at him. “She’s out of sorts, as you’d expect. I think most people are after what happened tonight so she…uh…drew the wrong conclusion. About us, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Cloud replies, unable to look at her either. “Probably…”
The silence continues. Things have been strained between them since Kalm, and though they’d cleared the air a little in Junon, Tifa’s still not sure what to think now that it’s just the two of them alone. No fiends to distract them.
Every day with Cloud feels like one step forward, two steps back, and she knows a lot of that is her own fault. Her messy feelings keep getting in the way. Her affection for him pushes her one way, her cowardice the other. She doesn’t know how to confront him. Doesn’t know how to question him when her own memories are so jumbled. Her too transparent attempt at testing his memories in Junon had clearly offended him, and she still feels awful about it. He’d come to her, vulnerable, genuinely apologetic, and she’d brought up Nibelheim. Started rambling about Emilio, even though she knows the two of them never got along.
He’s vowed to find time to talk to her, really talk, and she knows they need to at some point, but she’s too afraid to press him. Too afraid to say “why not now?” Too afraid of him shutting her out completely. What if she makes things even worse? His headaches are getting stronger, happening more often, she knows they are. She knows that some of the things she’s said have even been the trigger to set them off.
Instead when they talk lately she keeps things light, teasing, unserious, wondering if he can see through it. She keeps letting him walk away. It’s much easier to fight at his side. There’s a natural rhythm they share in battle, an instinctive flow that gives Tifa courage, that makes her stronger. Even after Kalm that hasn’t changed, but when it comes to finding words instead, somehow they keep choosing the wrong ones.
“Kinda stuffy in the cabin,” Cloud says, scratching absentmindedly at his arm. “I was gonna take a walk up on the deck for a while.” This time they finally manage to look at each other again. His mako-burdened eyes are very nervous, like they’d been when he’d come to her room in Junon. “You wanna come?”
She knows she’s not going to press him this time either. Maybe it’s selfish, but she just wants a few moments of peace after everything they went through tonight. Maybe that’s what he wants too.
“That sounds nice. I could use some fresh air.”
The staff make an exception, letting them head up the stairs. Only hours earlier the Queen’s Blood tournament had been held in the lounge here, but the aftermath of the attack still lingers. Bottles are missing behind the bar, likely knocked off the shelves and shattered. Furniture is overturned or broken, covered in monster blood. The crew hasn’t had a chance to rest, and they’re all doing their best to clean up, make things presentable for their arrival at Costa del Sol in the morning.
Tifa almost wishes she could join them, pick up a mop or a rag and start scrubbing at a pesky stain. In the months before Cloud arrived, cleaning the bar had always been therapeutic when she was stressed out. Problems that could be solved with little more than soap, water, and her own determination. Something nice and straightforward. Something that could distract her from thinking about a handsy or belligerent customer. Distract her from AVALANCHE’s decision to escalate its activities.
The stress hasn’t gone away, of course. It’s simply evolved, the scope of her world having expanded far beyond the petty disputes of the slums that have been her life for the last five years. Now there’s Sephiroth. Now there’s a Shinra bounty on her head.
Now there’s Cloud Strife who thinks he was in Nibelheim back then. Cloud Strife who knows things he can’t possibly know. He regrets it now, but there’s also Cloud Strife who convinced himself that she’s not real. A fake. Even though he’s tried to walk it back, he’d certainly believed it in that moment on the Kalm rooftop. Cloud Strife who might flirt with her one minute and say something thoughtless or cold the next.
But still she follows him, often close enough to touch, but mostly close enough to catch any shifts in his demeanor. Any headache he tries desperately to hide. She follows him, no matter what, because she needs him. Wants him in her life, no matter how messy things get.
Sometimes Tifa gets the sense that Cloud needs her too, wants her too. His eyes follow her when he thinks she hasn’t noticed, just like when they were kids. His voice softens when he talks to her, unless he’s teasing her with a little trash talk before kicking her ass at Queen’s Blood. He knows she can handle herself in a fight and still he jumps in front of her, taking hits in her place whenever he can. Tifa wonders if hearing something ridiculous like you and your wife from a stranger affects him more than he might let on.
Well, maybe that’s wishful thinking. Maybe it all is. Maybe she’s getting ahead of herself. Her stress and her guilt and her desire, all jumbled together.
They make it out onto the deck, and the wind has picked up. Without a word he takes the position closer to the rail, keeping her on the inside. Keeping her safe, not that the wind or current waves are strong enough to knock either of them overboard. She wonders if he’s even conscious of doing so or if it’s just Shinra training, SOLDIER instincts.
It’s much chillier than it had been earlier, out here in the dark, and the too open sky is full of stars. Beautiful and a little terrifying, all at once. Not so different from Cloud, she thinks, listening to his footsteps beside hers.
It’s not a leisurely walk.
Cloud’s someone who always moves with purpose, and if she looks up, gets distracted by the universe, she knows she’ll fall behind. Instead she keeps pace with him, matching his longer strides as best she can. Maybe he’s trying to make himself tired. Maybe he’s trying to tire her out too. It’s lesson number one that she taught him after all, getting a proper amount of sleep. She frowns, realizing how long ago and far away those lessons seem to feel now.
They do three full circles of the deck, not a word spoken, and on the fourth loop they seem to agree that it’s time to take a break. They come to a halt at the front railing. Nothing much to look at straight ahead, but there’s the stars above and the rush of foam below as the Shinra-8 cuts a path through the water, continuing its steady push westward. Tifa leans forward, letting the rail bear most of her weight. He leans too, mirroring her as the wind ruffles his hair.
His voice startles her when she hears it again after several minutes, especially the downright playful tone of it. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about it, Tifa.”
She looks over, watches him stare out into the black, the deck lights highlighting the sharp line of his jaw. “Forgotten about what?”
“I heard you cheering for Red.”
She sputters a little, not having expected this from him at all. “What?”
He turns to look at her this time, and she can see that he’s tired but not miserable. Just the opposite actually. Nothing like her doom and gloom.
“You know, during the tournament,” he says, crossing his arms, exaggerating his pout. “You’re a real sore loser.”
She’s not sure why this is what’s on his mind after everything that happened tonight, but Tifa’s grateful for it. Grateful for this side of him, the side he doesn’t always show, although she feels like she’s been lucky enough to see it more than most. She decides to match his odd, teasing energy as best she can, turning fully so she can face him, hands on her hips.
“A sore loser? I was playing with a borrowed deck since someone refused to share any cards from his own. And what’s wrong with cheering for my friend?”
He rolls his eyes. “You were actively rooting against me.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“You said ‘kick his ass, Red!’”
“I absolutely did not!”
“Your face certainly said it.”
“You weren’t even looking at me! You were so laser focused on your cards…your…your stupid cards that you didn’t even share.” She’s so close to laughing. “You’re such a sore winner!”
He does a silly little mimic of her voice. “‘You’ve got this, Red! Avenge me, Red!’”
She gives him a shove in protest. “Aerith still cheered for you! We kept things even, you know.”
“Well, maybe I wanted to hear…” But he pauses there, hurriedly turning away, the jokey demeanor finally faltering. “Whatever. Never mind.”
“Huh?” She inches a bit closer, seeing the instant regret in his face. Despite the chilly air, Tifa’s getting rather warm at what Cloud seems to have been on the verge of admitting. “Spit it out. Maybe you wanted…?”
“It’s nothing. Anyway, we should head back…it’s late…”
Her fingers manage to tug a little at the crook of his elbow, but he’s a slippery one when he really wants to be. He’s already moving, gunning for the exit, so she nearly shouts her response at his back.
“Mister Tifa!”
That stops him dead in his tracks, although he doesn’t turn around. Tifa takes a breath, gathering courage.
“Thank you,” she says.
Tifa needed this, exactly this, a few minutes of absurdity. She hopes everything within that thank you has been conveyed well enough, and when he simply nods, she knows that it was.
She expects that the darkness will come flooding back soon enough, her usual doubts and worries, but for now, she’s riding high on his teasing, these fleeting glimpses of his softness. His kindness. This person she cares about. This person she wants to protect, this person she’s desperate to figure out, even if she isn’t sure how.
“I’ll cheer for you next time,” she calls out. “No matter what.”
He doesn’t say anything but beckons her back to his side with a little wave. She joins him, seeing that he’s a bit pink despite his now neutral expression. They walk together through the lounge, down the stairs to the second class cabins. He drops her at her door with a mumbled “G’night Tifa” before crossing the hall back to his own.
Gently, Tifa opens the door, closing it behind her. She quietly shuffles back to her own hammock. Ellie and Maggie are both fast asleep, dreaming of a happy reunion with Ellie’s husband. Tifa slips out of her boots, easing back into her own hammock.
This time sleep is much easier to find.