Oblivion

Chapter 19

Prawns, Tifa cast an askew glance at her fingers underneath the stream. They'd gone pink with cold, discolored in places where they'd bruised. They couldn't afford to waste magic frivolously with so few rations. She'd been used to this once, but at long last her mostly domesticated body had begun to rebel. It was one thing to train or control monster populations near the city, but this was something else entirely. With shaking hands, the martial artist withdrew a canteen and held it underneath the water's edge.

"It's just a little ache," She whispered, scanning the horizon. Wilting clusters of wildflowers lay scattered across the heath. Tifa could name a few. Heather sprouted violet little flowers along a rust-colored stem in autumn. Through a child's eyes, she saw stocky Nibelheim girls in another place and time sway their sun-browned arms in the breeze. Haphazard purple crowns rested atop windswept pigtails. They sang a hymn that she couldn't quite remember — some throaty melody that danced up and down octaves.

Her eyes fell on another bright patch of golden blooms, gorse. Her mother would wind the prickles into wreaths and hang them over their fences when there was still pastureland in the mountain valleys. The old folks used to say that spirits would get tangled on the spines, and the ghastly wails that echoed between the canyons were their furious cries. Of that legacy, only dust remained.

This heathland had grown wild.

Where ranchers had once grazed chocobos, cattle, and sheep just a few years before, she and Sephiroth passed moss-devoured huts. Soft wood beams, holey with rot, protruded out of loam and soured the air with a moist, musty odor. Tifa couldn't bear to look between the mushroom-covered cinderblocks where the foundations of proud homes once sat. An odd branch would become more recognizable as a mud-reddened femur.

Things skittered through the grass that she couldn't see, and there was always that damned droning of black biting flies. Oblong red welts dotted her arms. She'd done enough scratching for her and Sephiroth both. Of course, his skin had remained…impeccable. Perhaps the mako in his blood kept pests at bay. Beneath the journey's strain, Tifa's thoughts had a way of getting away from her.

(His lips on hers — surprisingly softer than she might have imagined. Imagined? Her hands grazed clavicles then pectorals. A sculptor might have scratched him out of granite. What? His fingers against her skin, he buried the other hand in her hair. Her thoughts were nonsense. All she knew was sensation.)

Loneliness or stress — take your pick. Reliance on someone else when survival was the stake did something to you. She couldn't fathom what had possessed her to return that…kiss. What in blazes had possessed him to kiss her? A shaky laugh escaped her lips with a hiss, sounding as if it came from some animal in the brush. Her fighting gloves at her side, she watched the light glint off of her diamond wedding band underneath the water. She'd learned from the baker who'd overheard from everyone's favorite barman Blair De Souza who himself must have eavesdropped on Protector gossip how insistent Cloud had been on the princess cut for the stone. He didn't know why the cut was called that. Tifa had been just as ignorant, but he'd said — Tifa colored with shame at the thought — that she was his princess. That was years ago. Always lead-tongued with his feelings, Cloud wouldn't confirm the story when she confronted him on their first anniversary. He just looked away, patted her on the arm, and mumbled that he loved her.

"Nothing'll change that." She recalled him saying with unwavering conviction.

(Husband. Home. Life. She pushed off of him firmly but not enough to move him. The faintest red shaded his features. Beneath the dirt and blood, the sun at his back, and his hair all afire in the brilliance of the light, Sephiroth stared at her in a way she didn't dare ponder.)

It wasn't that she hadn't noticed the way his gaze seemed to linger or how his tone had softened. Other explanations just felt more obvious. Tifa screwed the second canteen's lid onto its body and dropped a purification tablet into the third after splashing her face. Neither of the two talked about it. Words like yet seemed to stretch out ominously before her as if she could taste them. Why was this so difficult? She couldn't still her trembling hands.

Tifa chanced a glance over her shoulder. Up a slope, Sephiroth plucked a pheasant, its banded brown and white feathers scattered around his boots. He seemed thoroughly absorbed in the task, but Tifa had been with him long enough to know better. How had they gotten from there to here? His features open but penetrating, he never stopped observing — the land, the sky, the insects, the trees — her. She should have realized…how could she put it…the change sooner. Always on the edge of hysteria, it was impossible to trust her judgment. Tifa heaved the bag onto her shoulder and trudged up to the gravelly plot where they'd made camp. The muscles in her legs tensed like rubber bands pulled too taut, and it took all her strength to suppress the low moan that threatened to escape her lips. She collapsed into a heap and sighed. Sephiroth left her the bedroll, electing instead to sit on folded over dry grass.

Tifa leaned forward and grabbed a handful of sloe berries they'd collected after coming across a blackthorn bush. The small purple fruits' tang pulled her lips into a pucker. These were better as liquor, Tifa thought, spitting dark pits into crackling embers. De Souza's warm, smoky pub filled her mind with its three house drafts and heart-stopping meals. A chill took ahold of her as she pictured ash in the shack's place.

"We're close, aren't we?" Sephiroth pulled another handful of feathers from his fowl.

Tifa jerked where she sat. She studied his bloody hands. The digits were long and slim, the fingernails, unusually even for how they'd been living these several weeks. She swatted at her neck and wiped her hand on her pant leg, "We'll be there tomorrow."

"Ah." Sephiroth's reply was muted. He examined his work, beheaded the bird, snapped its joints at the legs, and removed the tendons. His hand found her skinning knife again, "You may want to look away. I'm going to cut out the giblets."

"Country girl, remember? Doesn't bother me." Tifa murmured.

"Of course it doesn't." The hint of a smile ghosted his features before he grew serious, "I want you to know…that I admire you greatly."

Tifa spat another sloe pit into the flames. What the hell could she say to that? She gave a little horsey snort, "Can't imagine why."

"I'm a frank man, Tifa. When I have a thought, I speak my mind. I want to say this to you while I still can…"

"Sephiroth." Tifa raised hand. It shook. She dreaded what he might say. He was no longer predictable, and she had to chuckle at such a thought. When had she ever known him?

He shook his head, "Let me finish. You are bullheaded and reckless…at times to the point of lunacy. The moment I was gifted with this new chance at life, I could only think of my revenge. I hated you, Cloud…everyone, but you kept coming. It was only you…always you attempting to steer me to sense. You had…have every right to hate me. I destroyed your life, wrecked this world, and dragged you from your home in the midst of a war. I don't deserve what you've done for me. You're a remarkable woman, Tifa. I…"

His gaze grew warm. Tifa frowned. She rubbed her hands against her calves, trying to worry away the nerves that'd taken hold of her limbs, "Don't idealize me, Sephiroth. Get to know me more, and you'll see that there's nothing special here."

"I don't believe that."

The setting sun made Sephiroth's mako gaze positively halogen-like. His long silvery hair glowed. Tifa looked away and wound a stray blade of grass around her index finger. A banded woolly bear caterpillar inched over her nail. She flicked it off before answering, "Everyone has that line — that line, which when crossed makes you stop being a person."

Tifa stared straight ahead into the yellow rolling flames. Sephiroth butchered the bird into rough cuts — wings, breasts, and thighs. Sizzling flesh dripped oily fat granules. The fire snapped and groaned. A log collapsed. Her right hand grazed the unseen tattoo on her hip, "I kept it to remind myself what it was like to forget where that boundary was. I tossed a man headfirst over a freeway overpass when I was eighteen. At first, I fought for the Kings because I was afraid of what they'd do to me if I tried to get out of the life, but after a while, I just stopped caring."

"What happened?" Sephiroth leaned forward from where he sat.

Tifa waved smoke from her eyes, "Avalanche came to town. They didn't fight for things that the other gangs wanted. Money…an in with the big men upstairs…nothing shook them. Their message was simple. The planet was dying. Our communities were turning against themselves, and Shinra was the culprit. I think it scared Korol. He was a master at the game, but they were playing an entirely different sport. Avalanche's leader, Barret, started to make people believe."

"And, you?"

"I started to believe that I was more than a pair of fists. It wasn't just trading one crew of outlaws for another. Avalanche was so much more than a group of anti-Shinra agitators. They scrapped together whatever resources they could to help people. Korol sent me to them to infiltrate, but after a month, it was obvious where my allegiance stood. I found out who…what I was meant to be. Maybe that's why I can see the same in you. Like I said, I'm nothing special. I just had someone believe in me enough to help me along my way."

Sephiroth snorted, "And, you say that you aren't special. We've both endured more than any one person ought to bear, but what broke me, you overcame. My friendship with Zack, my convictions…my own strength ought to have kept me grounded, but it wasn't enough. I don't know how to say this." He bit the corner of his lips and drew a sharp intake of breath, "I feel a certain attachment to you…more than I should."

There. Tifa rubbed her sticky hands before the fire. Say something, her mind cried out at her. She wasn't sure whether she was holding in laughter or tears. It was completely unbelievable, but there it was. Why her? As he stared at her, exhaustion crept over her like a trail of ants. It started at her toes, which throbbed, and rushed up her ankles until it reached her crown. Her temples pulsed. Her mind was static. There was so much — too much happening.

Goddammit, say something. Just look at him. She said, "Are you saying that you're attracted to me, Sephiroth?"

Of course he is, stupid, a chorus of internal voices mocked her.

"Yes…I believe that I am." His tone wavered.

She ought to have rebuffed him immediately. By Gaia, she was happily married.

Complacently married, a new voice whispered.

Tifa adopted a scandalized expression that her mentee, Janine, called the "chocobo with wet down feathers" stare before immediately relaxing her features. She couldn't hurt her friend. This must have been too bizarre and new for him.

"I am flattered, really, Sephiroth, but I can't return your attraction." She paused for moment, thinking of how to proceed without sounding patronizing, "I think that we've both been through a lot these past few weeks, you especially."

A warm laugh greeted her ears, but his face remained expressionless. She may as well have told him that he'd someday meet a nice girl elsewhere. Sephiroth had never looked more like his father in that moment as he studied her, "I shouldn't have burdened you with this. The Insurrection and its espionage are the most pressing issues at hand."

"No." Tifa raised a hand. How she ached to touch his shoulder to comfort him, but that might encourage the wrong sort of response, "I appreciate your honesty."

She slept fitfully that night, her dreams wild.

Ice-brittle palms fronds shattered the moment they struck pavement. Dates rotted in clumps. Green mangoes shriveled. It was August, a week past Cloud's birthday and the wedding. Already her old identity, Ms. Lockheart, had faded as Tifa became someone new. She wrapped her shawl tighter around her frame, doing little to shield herself from the cold wind that blew off the raging sea. What did it mean to be a wife? She and Cloud had made love frenziedly, frantically in the days that followed Meteor's fall. They drowned, died in one another. Each searched for something that stayed perpetually just beyond reach. It shouldn't have surprised her six months past the point that he'd proposed.

She heard footsteps on the stairs and turned, expecting her husband. No, it was only Shera. The bespectacled woman smiled shyly at the other. She fingered the seam of her gold cocktail dress against her thigh and patted down her stiff auburn curls. Shera couldn't have looked more unlike the mousy aeronautics engineer that she was. She rubbed her arms, goosebumps standing out against her bare biceps, "Oh, is this where you've gone? Everyone is looking for you. How can you stand it out here? It's freezing."

Tifa grinned and stepped inside the bedroom pulling the glass door shut behind her, "I needed the air. Your pineapple upside cake saved the day. I can't thank you enough."

Shera beamed graciously, "Oh shucks, don't thank me. Thank the miracle that is canned fruit. I don't know how we would've managed otherwise. And besides, the party would be nothing without its stunning bride. Are you alright? Tifa, you…ah, look a little pale."

"Just getting used to things. I still can't believe it. Me, Mrs. Strife." Tifa sat on the bench across from her bed and motioned for Shera to join her, patting the cushion at her side.

Shera sat, "It'll pass, but nothing will ever feel like this moment."

Tifa wasn't sure what she felt. The proposition had been so sudden, so unexpected. The ceremony followed almost as rapidly. She wrung her hands. Perhaps, this was how love felt…some big unknowable something that just dazed you. She always imagined that it would be different, that she'd be able to name it at once. Yet, it remained as mysterious as it had ever been even as Cloud hefted his weight over hers, running his hands across the length of her body, and breathed her name against her skin. She couldn't have been more fortunate.

"These guys, huh. They really deserve us. You know, Cid and Cloud."

Shera chewed her lip and flashed Tifa a raised brow, "Well, I…ah…suppose so. What do you mean?"

Tifa wasn't sure what she meant. She tried to find the right way of saying it, "After everything, I guess. Meteor, Shinra, and the like." If it wasn't true for Cid, then it certainly had been for Cloud. She remembered how he needed her on the last night before they fought Sephiroth after he'd sent everyone off to search for a reason to fight. He'd sighed into her ear how their vow had kept him going. That silly old thing between kids bantering on an old water tower had become so much more. Cloud called that moment his anchor. She…she hadn't been sure what it was any longer to her. That promise beneath the stars had become too difficult to see as anything other than a possible life on a path that'd long diverted from hers. She'd hardly been the same girl that Cloud left in their hometown, but after everything and with a future so uncertain, she could learn to love him.

She took Shera's hand and squeezed it, "Let's go back downstairs. Let's see if I can coax Mr. Strife to dance." She stood and unlashed the drapes to the balcony. Ashen snow fell in clumps, covering the sidewalks. A smoky chill ebbed through the cracks. She grabbed the heavy fabric from either side of the door and pulled it over the glass, plunging the room into shade.

Damn all dreams. Why did it have to be that memory?

Dusk had settled when they came upon the road. Deep tire treads had widened the red dirt path.

"These are military vehicle tracks." Sephiroth leaned over the path, measuring the width of the pattern against his palm, "They lead away from the city, back out southeast."

"We could make for the gully west of here." Tifa suggested, "If memory serves me right, there're few farmhouses out that way."

"And then?" Sephiroth said, glancing her way. He'd already set off in long strides for the gully ahead of her.

Where did he get the energy? She could barely keep pace at this point. Her limbs felt like pulsating pudding. She patted both thighs, attempting to stir some life back into them, "And then…I'll call Vincent."

"Just like that? You've been missing for several weeks."

She sighed. Tifa loathed admitting that she hadn't thought that far in advance, but whatever plan she concocted seemed more farfetched than the last, "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Sephiroth shook his head, and Tifa couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of irritation rise in the pit of her belly.

She folded her arms and immediately regretted doing so. Someone may as very well stuck a hot poker between her shoulder blades, "What do you expect me to do? You should…you should just leave. Live your life."

Sephiroth stopped short and turned, looking as if she'd spat on him, "Out of the question. I made a vow."

She was sick to death of men and their promises. She was too sore for her usual damn-the-odds optimism, "Fine." She couldn't manage to say anything more.

The two soon came upon a green barn house in need of painting. Further off in the field, yellow chocobos dozed in the early night. Peering past the porch through the screen door, Tifa could already imagine the home's warmth. A buttery glow spilled over the shallow stair and onto a well-maintained herb patch. She signaled to Sephiroth to find cover, and he slunk off around the way toward an open stable.

An aroma of spearmint filled the air as she waded closer through the knee-high reeds. The step creaked underneath her boots. She raised a hand to the door and paused, considering the moment. This was it. She could hear a television, the nightly news playing somewhere further off in the house. Dishes clattered. She rapped at the door.

"Billy, is that you?" A grey voice called. A wispy elderly woman crept slowly into view, with a cane clutched in one hand. She raised a hand to her mouth the moment her eyes met Tifa's, "My goodness, i-i-it's you! You're alive."

"More or less." Tifa said lowly and added, "Ma'am, I need to use your PHS urgently. It's PF business."

"Why, yes, yes of course. Come in out from the cold. Well, look at you. You look positively undone, dearie." The woman ushered her indoors and showed her to the kitchen.

Tifa didn't need further urging to fall into the offered seat. The woman extended a cordless PHS to her, and Tifa fought to steady her hands. They'd begun to shake again. She struggled for a moment to remember Vincent's number. He seemed to be the right choice over Cid. Well, that's what she prayed.

The line rung for several long minutes, and she wondered if all of Avalanche had already been assembled on the coast. Had this journey been wasted?

"Valentine." Vincent's voice was like a balm to her ears.

"As he lives and breathes." Tifa's voice quivered on the line, "By Gaia, is it good to hear a friend again."

"Tifa…?"

"Yes, it's me. I'm alive and well enough."

"I have to tell-"

"No!" Tifa cried, "Don't tell anyone that you're speaking to me."

"What's going on, Tifa. Are you being held somewhere?"

"Nothing like that." The woman said quickly, "Listen. Please. I just need you to come out down by the Southern pass. Meet me at the Blue Gulch."

"What? Why? Tifa, are you being confined? If you are…just work the word Junon into your conversation. I am already…"

"I'm fine. Please, Vincent. Come alone. I've recovered intel on the Insurrection, but there have been some complications."

Understatement.

She stayed on the PHS for another five minutes and still wasn't sure that she had Vincent entirely convinced that she wasn't bound in someone's trunk at the moment. Well, this was her gamble. All she could do was wait.

After several months an update. Whew! I started a new job at an arts nonprofit that is consuming my life but is enjoyable. Hopefully, I'll have a faster turnaround on the next chapter.

Update: On the suggestion of one of my awesome reviewers, I threw in page breaks around the dream scene. I'd originally added them in but removed them. :)