Tifa was far from your average woman.

She was stronger, faster, and fitter. Some might even have the cheek to say "more curvy". That would be between the seconds her eyes narrow threateningly and the offending mouth drop at the sheer force of her solid roundhouse kick. But those were only one-dimensional definitions of her.

No, she was something else. Cloud couldn't quite think of a way to describe her.

She was no enigma but she wasn't wide open either. Sometimes she could be a force to be beckoned with, and on other days, especially when dealing with the children, she could be a complete pushover.

She was too sweet. Too kind for someone who had seen the darker side of the world few too many times. And the worst part was that even after all they had gone through, she still had the heart to trust.

Trust in others and trust that tomorrow would be different.

Events that would have left any normal person down and wallowing in a drunken stupor for the rest of their lives were part of her history and yet she was the one mixing up drinks for glum patrons who were having "a bad day."

Cloud had met his fair share of women and he thought he knew those "creatures from another planet" as Cid called them. But Tifa confused him to no end. The days he spent with her at Seventh Heaven only made things worse.

Yet Cloud couldn't help but feel she knew all the words that could describe him. A few guilty names came to mind instantly: "imaginary soldier" or "loner"… but she could probably come up with better words for him because she knew him so damn well.

On his bad days, this fact irritated Cloud to no end.

The irritation was uncalled for, even to Cloud and he knew it well. But every time he stepped in to the warmth of Seventh Heaven after a vicious delivery and saw a glass of Corel wine left on the counter waiting for him, he found his eyes narrowing.

How did she always know what to do?

Whether she just had hunches or she was psychic to his mind Cloud wasn't entirely sure. On some days he imagined her well timed actions were simply a stroke of dumb luck and she couldn't have possibly known that he needed a small squeeze on his hand to lift the weight off his shoulders. It was probably purely out of courtesy for the guy who beared half the responsibility for the children she loved.

On other days, he doubted this. She always seemed to have an idea of what went through his mind.

So maybe Tifa was psychic…?

The ridiculous hypothesis was promptly thrown out the window.

Well whatever it was, a secret materia or some womanly sorcery she was employing, Cloud knew he had very little resistance against it. Personally it would have been utterly flattering for a woman like Tifa to be looking out for him. And to some extent, it was. Cloud knew many men who would do anything to trade places with him.

But it didn't change the fact that it irritated him.

Because- well…

Why did she do this for him?

Was it because they were comrades and childhood friends? Was it because he saved her being killed by a toppling building? From the Shinra Company's best and worst soldier time and time again?

If so, then all of them, Tifa, Yuffie, Vincent, Cait Sith, Barret, Cid and Cloud himself all owed each other the same level of compassion. But the party was beyond that. No one kept a tally chart of how many times they owed each other and how each could be compensated.

But Tifa always insisted.

It could be through a passing smile as they crossed on the stairwell, a soft hand on his shoulder as she watched him sift through the piles of delivery slips on his desk or a stern lecture (Cloud recalled this one with an inward wince).

Whatever it was, she always gave, at the perfect moment, the only remedy he needed to straighten his shoulders, lift his chin and carry on.

It was enough to make him tip his mild mood for a fouler one.

Damn her soft smiles and feather light touches and fierce eyes that saw right through him.

He wouldn't have cared so much if she didn't act like it was so natural to be reading him. He could have ignored it, or have the decency not to act like a jerk whenever these moments occurred if she didn't look so darn happy doing it.

Cloud twisted on his side. The floor beneath him was hard and cold on his ribs but from this angle in the low light of his lamp; he could make out the thin layer of dust settled over the floor mingled with pollen and fallen petals. He studied it intently, imagining himself seeing the footprints of his own boots and those of a smaller female's- Aerith's.

How he wished she could be sitting next to him, absently twirling a flower between her delicate fingers on her lap, explaining the ways a woman's mind worked.

A wooden block dangling precariously off the ceiling creaked eerily and rained a few pieces of dust on Cloud's head and shoulders.

The pieces landed softly, tinkling on the snout of the Cloudy Wolf protecting the arm that carried the pink ribbon and Cloud briefly looked up.

Aerith?

But his eyes found no one. Cloud looked back down at his lap silently.

It had been a while since the Reunion crisis and his mind never flashed images of his blackened arm melting again. No suspicious men came around kidnapping the children. There was no misplaced head everyone wanted to get their hands on.

The news that a healing spring had sprung in the church spread rapidly and every day the spring was busy with afflicted pilgrims curing themselves in the miracle pool.

The world was slowly settling from its biggest upheaval and though it would take many more lifetimes for Gaia to fully recover, Cloud was satisfied in the knowledge that the process of healing had already begun.

A chapter of Gaia's violent history had come to an end and with it, Cloud's own shady chapter of regret, guilt and death. Or so he hoped, anyway.

At least he was "no longer alone," as he told the retreating figure of the flower girl that day.

So why was he here again?

"You owe me nothing."

The moment the words left Tifa's lips, Cloud felt like he was suffocating. The air around him became heavier, and his whole body froze up. He was envisioning the wooden walls closing up and trapping him in, ready to squeeze the life out of him. Every muscle coiled in tension and he had an insufferable need to swing his blade at something. His mind screamed for him to escape and his hands fisted in an attempt to hide the small tremors.

All of a sudden, her presence was too overwhelming and so unbearably close.

He needed to get out. He needed to get away from her.

But contrary to his mind flying into frenzied panic, his face was deceptively calm.

He nodded dully at Tifa vaguely aware of her brows knitting. But he made no efforts to talk; he just couldn't.

On the inside, he was out of breath- he need air- he needed space.

Grabbing a handful of delivery slips without a clue where any of them were headed, he shoved them roughly into his pockets. He didn't bother grabbing his goggles placed innocently on top of the wardrobe beside Tifa.

He didn't feel like leaning anywhere near her- if standing a meter away from her presence was enough to make him want to run, he couldn't imagine staring into her red eyes. It would be like staring down a black hole (or a red one, more like), tempting it to suck him in.

He could ride without them goggles anyway.

So instead, without another word, Cloud turned on his heel and walked down the stairs, waving a hand at the wide-eyed children playing a card game Tifa had taught them on the bar counter and continued out to the dark street. He could dimly feel her presence following him out onto the street but decided to take no notice. Infinitely grateful he had parked his beloved bike outside today; he gruffly swung a leg over Fenrir and without another look back, headed for the last place he felt at peace… which led him to his current situation.

He was a runaway from home, camping out at the now-tourist-attraction healing church, staring at dust.

A deep sigh escaped Cloud. Giving up on his futile attempts to catch some sleep, he sat upright. Rubbing his eyes into his hands, he tiredly leaned back against a stone column and stretched out his legs.

He had no reason to run away from her like that. Honestly, he didn't know why he did in the first place. Perhaps it was his go-to response when told something of the sort. Though, he hadn't been told something like that before so he didn't know if that was the case or not…

Why would she say something like that anyway?

For all Cloud knew, he was quietly mapping out his delivery routes when Tifa jumped into his room and blurted out words he knew she knew was designed for the sole diabolic purpose of confusing him. It was all her fault.

Well, it wasn't really what happened… but it was damn close enough. Cloud had indeed been quietly mapping his delivery routes when Tifa appeared at the foot of his door and hesitated on the threshold. He guessed she was wondering if she should let herself in or not. When Cloud raised a questioning eyebrow at her, she did walk in, and mentioned something funny.

Something about how things were stable now and how she was told by her regular patrons she looked happier lately. Cloud recalled her touching the edges of her wolf ring around her finger at this point.

She'd been told by some regulars that apparently she had this "glow" to her, and that it made some of them "hard"… but Cloud wasn't supposed to hear that bit, and neither was she, but it happened, and now she's said it out loud and she can't believe herself… and the talk just went downhill from there. Eventually her voice trailed off in a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness and a pregnant pause filled the gap.

Seconds ticked by as Tifa struggled to regain her composure and Cloud took the opportunity and snuck a glance. A quick look into her face was all he needed to come to the same realisation as her regulars. The reddened (and still reddening) cheeks downplayed that glow a bit but that could easily be ignored.

...As to where this conversation was going however, was still to be realised.

She took a moment to pause and steeling her determination, she flipped up her chin to meet his lazy gaze in a blazing stare.

"Things are better than they were before Cloud. I know you're trying hard to make things work out for all four of us. You look out for Denzel and take care of Marlene. You being here with us makes a lot of difference."

Cloud shrugged his shoulders and gave a non-committal grunt.

"I- I'm happier than I could ever be."

"Are you?"

"Well, it's better than before, like I said."

Tifa paused yet again and Cloud couldn't help but wonder if all the courage she built up was to confess to him that life was good.

She could have just said it over dinner. Marlene would look lovingly up at her family and add comments of her own with a wide smile while Denzel would just silently poke at his food, waiting for the emotional conversation to end as if his teenage self would have nothing to do with it.

If Cloud could be completely honest, he was in the same boat as Denzel. She could have just left him a voicemail on his phone and he would have given her the exact same dead reaction.

Cloud's gaze dropped disinterestedly down to the messy pile of delivery slips on his desk.

"So, in saying that, I just want you to know that even if I die tomorrow-"

Cloud's eyes shot up to meet her red ones. This time his held the blazing stare hers had lost.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm not saying I will! It's just- I want you to know something Cloud." Tifa quickly raised her hands and cried apologetically.

"…"

"Even if I were to die tomorrow… you, you owe me nothing. You've kept your promises- multiple times in fact! We saved the Planet with the others and now you're helping me raise the kids. I could never ask for more.

So even if something were to happen to me that was… uncontrollable, don't ever feel like you could have done better."

This was not something Cloud ever imagined to hear from Tifa. Tifa the warrior talking about her own doom made his head dizzy. And if it wasn't bad enough she was talking it about it, but she had the nerve to assure him not to feel personally bad about it too. Cloud felt his blood boil.

"Why are you saying this? Are you listening to yourself?"

"You being at the church… giving up your will to fight, being lost- I can't stand to watch it-"

Cloud's breath hitched.

"That's none of your business," he snapped. Tifa's mouth clamped shut at the harshness of his tone. Her long lashes wept down to hide the fact that the glow to her the bar patrons could see, Cloud could see, was now gone.

Cloud regretted his words the instant it had left him. But he stood his ground silently daring Tifa to continue on with this stupid talk. He wasn't about to have it- not now, not ever.

A full minute of charged silence filled the room until Tifa began again. She spoke tenderly but it held a hint of desperation like a mother consoling an anxious child.

"It is, Cloud. I would never forgive myself if I let you take responsibility for whatever happens to me. You've done so much for us… for me already."

She then inhaled deeply and smiled beautifully at him, giving him the glowing smile he had almost forgotten she could make, taking advantage of his stunned silence as her breathy words came out in a barely audible whisper.

"You owe me nothing."

Cloud's recollection of "Tifa's speech" ended there. But it had replayed itself over and over again even as he rode Fenrir hard through the slums to his sanctuary. And not surprisingly, he found that every time he remembered her standing awkwardly in his room making her grand speech, her words made less and less sense to him.

Because basically, in a nutshell, her speech summed to: "I might die on you but no hard feelings. Keep it cool." Signed by Tifa and her smiley little face.

The woman had to be insane.

Cloud's boot thumped hard against the floor in a rare display of frustration.

So should he just accept her death when the moment came?

Cloud's eyes watched the surface of the spring ripple, sparkling shards of light from the dim orange flame of his lamp. When the lamp flickered, the sparkles flickered with it, shining off every crest and trough of the ripples and bounding off the grim grey walls behind him creating an illusion of stars on stone.

Watching the sparkles with a lazy eye, he idly imagined that if Yuffie were here, she'd ecstatically jump to touch each sparkle on the wall. Of course she would catch them all, ("There's nothing a Wutai ninja can't do!") then proudly show her hands covered in "star dust" (which really would be stone dust) to a not-so-happy Vincent, who'd promptly blow her attempts at selling them while Cait Sith reprimanded her in the background.

Cid might sway on his lance, chewing on the butt of his cigarette, settling for a lazy but peaceful eye around the room as he listened in on Yuffie's talk about stars. Barrett might search for a camera so he could show Marlene this later on, while Nanaki would gaze blankly ahead, perhaps reminiscing his grandfather's solar system model generator back in the Cosmo Canyon. And Tifa… Tifa would wander, marvelling at the sight with, maybe, a smile? Thinking back on the night of their childhood promise under the stars of Nibelheim? Perhaps she would sneak a peek at him, wondering if he could see from the illusions what she was seeing?

But illusions, Cloud scoffed, he's seen enough already.

Tearing his gaze from the dancing lights, Cloud shifted towards the edge of the spring. He tasted the damp air even before he felt it on his skin as he moved closer, but never a man to fear a little moisture, he leaned in.

The clean, crisp air was calming. But it wasn't enough. Reaching over, Cloud slid a hand under water.

The water parted easily for his hand and immediately it was enveloped in a familiar coolness. He watched the outline of his gloved fingers shake with every distorting ripple and slowly dragged his hand beneath the shallow edge. His movements were creating new ripples that clashed with the ripples caused by the bubbling spring and like a cat eyeing its prey, his focused eyes wandered over the surface watching every crest meet every trough and flatten.

"You owe me nothing." Cloud muttered, echoing Tifa words.

His fingers rose and settled over the surface of the water and he watched his hand float and dip as the ripples surged and ebbed on the edge of the spring.

"What would you say, Aerith?" He asked quietly lifting his gaze from his fingertips to the wide view of the sparkling spring before him.

"What would you do?"

A million questions chased after another in his mind and Cloud pushed the other hand deeper into the spring, feeling the earth and pebbles rough against his palm.

What did Tifa even mean by "You owe me nothing"?

How was he supposed to even reply to something like that?

Do other people, normal people, you know, the ones who haven't been "traumatised", say that to each other?

How could you even think to say that to someone?

Does she really want him to be cool about her death?

Think that he couldn't have treated her any better?

Done more things for her?

God, was this a roundabout way for Tifa to ask him to do more chores around the house and not regret not doing them when and if she died?

No.

"Tell me."

Cloud leaned in further now sitting on his knees, the tip of his nose so close to the spring that every breath fanned shattered the delicate reflection of his face.

"Was it wrong to be… relieved?"

Cloud closed his eyes away from his reflection in disgust.

Yes, that was what he truly felt. He'd numbly denied what he knew he felt but the paralysis of shock could only last so long. Sitting in a darkened church alone for what could have been the entire night helped things along.

The moment he heard her say those words, he was relieved… but to what end?

The fact that now he had permission not to feel the pain of losing someone dear again? That he now was authorised to let any emotion slide off his back and breeze on through life even without her?

The spring twinkled at him prettily, but remained frustratingly silent.

Cloud withdrew himself slightly and tilted his chin towards the high rising ceiling above his head.

He knew for a fact he could not be unaffected if something were to happen to Tifa. No one could. The blame game was just the next step in death. If he was part of the blame game, then so be it. If he was particularly easy at the game then too, so be it.

At least it would make him human.

But was being human worth all those insomniac nights and black days of regret?

Cloud wasn't sure.

Cloud twisted around to look at the grey stone wall behind him again. He recalled his earlier starry imagination of Yuffie, of Cid, of Barrett, of Red and most of all, of Tifa. He imagined the figure of Tifa slowly fading away, her small smile disappearing from between their friends. Yet the rest of the party smiled on, chatting to each other, unaware of their loss.

First it was her boots. The black pair she wore on most days were slowly fading into the background and he saw Tifa look down at them sadly. She shuffled on the spot as if unsure of what was going on but the background ate away into her shoes uncaringly. Like a monster the darkness trapped her inside it, taking away her knees, the hem of the pants on her thighs, then up to her barely concealed waist.

Tifa then turned to her friends, and reached a hand out to them as if to call out for help. But with a bare centimetre to spare, her fingers faltered just behind Barrett's shoulder. Then as if her fingers had been burnt, Tifa jerked her hand away and held it against her chest. The bangs of her hair fell over her eyes at that point, casting a shadow over her creamy cheek.

Was that shadow now going to spread and eat away at her the same way her legs had disappeared?

Why didn't she- How could they- his and her friends keep up the happy chatter? Caught in their own little bubble filled with stars and other nonsense and-

Why wasn't he saying anything?

"…"

Instinctively Cloud knew: It was wrong. It was just wrong.

Before he even knew what his body was doing, Cloud yanked his hands out of the spring and jumped to his feet striding towards the stone wall. Bursting into his imagination, Cloud reached out.

His hands still dripping droplets of the healing spring, firmly clasped around a fading wrist. There wasn't much to hold onto but he couldn't let her go. It was wrong to.

Tifa couldn't possibly disappear into thin air, consumed by a frightening shadow while her friends had their back turned. If she was going to die, he would watch it happen. He could be scarred for life, bleed his heart out again but it didn't matter. Anything was better than letting her die without a single soul to care. And with everything Cloud had, he pulled and pulled, willing the rest of her to return.

And slowly she did. She was frowning at him, he noticed, when her face coloured in. But he gave no notice that he'd noticed. Instead, he creased his eyebrows and shot back an unhappy look back at her.

They held each other's gaze for what could have been hours- Cloud couldn't tell. It was probably a few milliseconds, he thought in retrospect, but at that moment when his hard blue eyes seared into her round red ones he couldn't care less.

What mattered was that Tifa was testing him- testing Cloud's resolve that he could not bear to let her disappear without being broken. She let him be free of any burdens but he chose to keep them; for his own sake. Not because he didn't want to feel like he had betrayed Tifa to preserve his own heart but because he wanted to feel the pain and agony of losing her because she was worth those sleepless nights and blackened days. She meant that much to him- as did any of the others but Tifa especially- the one who truly cared for him from the days before their greatness.- from the night at the water tower.

"I owe you too much." Cloud said simply.

And to his surprise, Tifa's lips curled into a smile.

In an instant the sight of Tifa and the party, the starry walls exploded soundlessly away and Cloud found himself back in reality with a hand outstretched in mid air, half curled around what match the size of a certain fighter's wrist.

He was now viewing the stone grey wall blankly, and gasping for the breath he had been unconsciously holding in as he lowered his arm.

This was it. This was his answer to Tifa's speech.

For once his imagination was doing him some good.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Cloud quickly patted his hands dry and swooped to the side to pick up his lamp. In seconds he blew it out and placed it back down near the column he had been leaning against. The church was engulfed in complete darkness now but the darkness mattered little to Cloud. He knew the layout of this place off by heart.

Swiftly stepping between rows of seats and navigating his way to the exit where he had left Fenrir, Cloud relished this rare moment his mind was perfectly clear. As his boot stepped over the threshold of the church's grand gates, Cloud paused briefly; turning around only to glance back at the spring he knew lay in the centre.

"Thanks for the help." He said softly and turned away.

It would be morning soon, Cloud noted. The aroma of freshly baked bread permeated the air, sweetening it as the streets came to life as the local merchants unloaded their wares. But still, Cloud could not bring himself to swing the door open. He stood there in complete silence, mulling over nothing and everything, unaware of the bitingly chilly morning air whipping around him.

Tifa wouldn't be up yet, he thought. She was an early riser but not this early. Judging by the number of merchants still unloading and unpacking their goods, Cloud could probably sit around one of the bar tables, get himself a drink and hope liquid courage would do the talking for him when the time came.

He just needed to suck it up and do it, Cloud told himself.

Breathing in, only now noticing how chilly the air felt, he hooked his fingers around the doorknob and turned. The door creaked loudly as he cautiously slipped a foot through the threshold. The hero of the Planet waited, straining his ears for any noises. When he couldn't hear any thundering footsteps barrelling down the staircase with the intent to kick him in the guts for running off, Cloud took the chance and swung the door open.

Immediately his eyes narrowed.

The offending object, a ceramic mug, sat innocently on the counter top. White puffs of steam rose from the rim and a deep, rich scent enveloped him immediately freezing him in his tracks.

Coffee.

A mug of straight black coffee, just the way he liked it on chilly mornings, was waiting for him. And standing behind the counter in her all-black-dress-code beauty, was Tifa.

"Shit."

"Good morning to you too, Cloud," Tifa responded dryly.

The soldier and boy warred within.

Go apologise to her like a real man.

What? No. Just turn around slowly. Open the door. And start running.

"I made you coffee. Drink it before it goes cold."

"…"

"Is something wrong?"

Yes, something is wrong. Cloud felt like rolling his eyes.

She was being awfully nice for a person he'd bailed on in the middle of her self-sacrificial (if she thought it was of such nature- Cloud disagreed) speech.

Keeping a wary eye on Tifa like any good soldier would have done, he stepped further inside and reached for his share of coffee. It was still scalding hot: proof she had brewed it just earlier.

He was just about to take a sip when a tired voice called out to him.

"Cloud, I think I scared you with my talk last night."

He grunted.

"It wasn't supposed to."

Somehow he seriously doubted that. But smartly Cloud kept his mouth shut.

Cloud didn't like where the conversation was heading. He could see from a mile away that this was going to become a continuation of last night's speech. Or worse, it could be an encore. And after all that imagination it took to clear his mind, Cloud didn't find the prospect of a re-run particularly appealing.

He needed to say something- anything to divert the conversation into safer territory. Something like, perhaps, the children? Should he ask for Marlene? Or about the materia he had been using lately? Gaia save Yuffie if she could jump in the middle and-

"So did you finish your deliveries overnight?" Tifa asked brightly.

"…what?"

"Those slips you took, there must have been at least 10. Did you finish your run all last night and come home in time for breakfast?" She was eyeing his pocket bulky and full of delivery slips.

He felt, rather than saw the corners of delivery slips on the tips of his fingers and groaned inwardly. Completed delivery slips were always left with the recipient so Cloud never brought them back home. No matter how much he tuned Fenrir, there was no way he could make 10 delivery runs overnight either.

"Yes. I did." He replied shamelessly, nudging the slips deeper into his pockets hoping to high heavens Tifa would let the obvious problems slide.

"I see." Tifa said easily, pulling her arms behind her back and stretching them.

"So, how about pancakes for breakfast? The grocers next to Dan's hardwares- you know, the new one? They make their own syrup and came around with a free bottle yesterday. Said he needed a taste tester."

"…"

"I can make you yours now if you're hungry. Marlene wanted to make her own ones today but now is probably too early for her to eat-"

"Tifa-"

"Denzel is a good helper but he doesn't realise mess doesn't clean itself up so I prefer-"

"Tifa."

"There was broken glass everywhere the last time I left them alone in the kitchen-"

"Tifa. Stop."

Cloud didn't have to raise his voice to stop Tifa from babbling on. She was hurriedly rummaging through the cabinets looking for ingredients and utensils making a right racket as she went but his firm voice cut through easily.

"Yes?"

Her red eyes met his own blue pair and the soldier within swiftly ran for cover.

Maybe the boy's advice was right. I should have run while I could.

Cloud ran a hand through his hair and looked around distractedly. He was never good with apologies… or confrontations… or anything emotional. But he didn't want to leave the issue hanging above their heads either.

"I…Look, I'm sorry," he said quickly. His hand ran through his hair again nervously.

"…"

"To walk out on you like that."

"…" Tifa remained quiet.

"…Last night." He added pathetically.

"..."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

He was out of things to say but she had just folded her arms across her chest which meant she was waiting for him to continue. Was she waiting for him to say her name? Address the apology directly to her?

"…Tifa?" He sounded lame. And far too weak for a soldier who had saved the Planet.

A strained silence filled the gap yet again and Cloud was almost feeling sick waiting for Tifa to reply. Had she been petrified while he was blinking?

"..ha…"

…Ha?

"Hah… hahaha!" And there she went, at first hesitantly her mind lagging to make sure she had heard him right. When it was sure he had said the words she thought he'd said, she flew into giggles that turned into full blown laughter that rang throughout the house.

For a woman who regularly wore woolly socks around the house in summer to dull the sound of her footsteps in case it woke the children, she sure was loud.

Cloud's expression of anxiousness turned to confusion as if he couldn't quite believe she was laughing, then into a deep scowl; his mood now dangerously black.

Once he called her name but over her laughter (she was now clutching her stomach doubling over) but his soft voice did not reach over the melodious sounds of her laughing.

"What is so funny?" He asked moodily, dropping the mug on the counter with a loud thud.

"Oh, Cloud-!" She wheezed, wiping tears from under her eyes.

The boy was right. Cloud should have run instead. He was never going to listen to the soldier again.

The way he looked at her must have turned stonily cold because when she met his frosty gaze Tifa forced herself upright and smiled at him.

"You can be so funny."

"I didn't mean to be."

"Oh, Cloud. I wasn't laughing at you! I was just so happy!"

"Happy." Cloud deadpanned. Tifa nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

He didn't get it. His mind was too preoccupied becoming pissed off at her reaction to his apology.

"You didn't have to apologise. It's not your fault. I would have run away if you told me something like that too. But the fact that you did means you were taking my words seriously and I'm happy you did. It means you care."

With a set up like what she had done last night, it was hard not to take her seriously… but Cloud chose not to point that fact out.

"You're so distant sometimes- even after all that's happened I feel you're someplace else. I wondered if it was because you had to be somewhere else, you know, not because of a delivery but because you had to- the Planet or something needed you to be someplace else but I was weighing you down."

"You… weigh me down?"

"Well, the children as well but mostly me because of the promise I made you keep that night in Nibelheim. I didn't want to ruin our promise by turning it into a leash that would keep you stuck here. So that's why I said what I said."

Now he was completely befuddled. The word confused couldn't even describe half the chaotic mess his head was turning into.

When he stood still on his feet, never taking his eyes off her while he tried to make sense of his inner chaos, Tifa slowly walked around the counter to meet him on the other side and placed her own mug next to his.

She smiled tenderly at him, her features radiating a vibrant glow- the glow the patrons could see and Cloud could see.

"You're too kind…" she began and Cloud was sorely tempted to scoff.

"And too loyal."

"And those are bad qualities because?" Cloud challenged Tifa.

"They aren't bad… but you're easy to hurt. And I don't want you to get hurt because of me. You can't be with me all the time, Cloud. You can't protect me from everything- I run a bar for goodness sake."

She flippantly waved a hand in the air as she added on the last sentence.

"I don't want to hold you down with guilt if anything happened to me. I want you to stay strong- the way I always imagined you to be growing up, and the way I see you now."

"But how can I not feel guilt? I promised you-"

"I didn't say you have to mope around for the rest of your life. You can grieve and you can cry if you want but Cloud,"

Her voice hardened.

"Don't kill yourself over it."

Ah.

Then it all made sense. How she always knew what was on his mind- how she always knew what he needed to push forward. Why she bothered with him. Why she looked into his eyes and stirred up something from deep within.

She, Tifa Lockhart, was the one who understood him.

Aerith had Cloud spiritually; the fact cemented by her death would never change until the day Cloud drew his last breath.

But Tifa-

Tifa had him mentally, emotionally, and sure as fire she had him physically crawling back to her every time he ran off.

Cloud's soul might be closer to Aerith because she was his resting place where he would finally come to peace with his past and his lost comrade- she was the Promised Land.

But she was the Promised Land to all of Midgar- no, all of Gaia's residents- she was the land, the earth, the planet, riding within the stream of life force that propelled the world they knew through time. She was the world itself now, the one who forgave and the one who restored, a Goddess- and no man could have her to himself.

But Tifa, she was mortal, humble, and a barkeep. She was the foster mother to two children, a devoted friend to many, and a regular councillor to drinkers. To Cloud, she was the only woman who understood him- the only woman now who could give him a taste of his promised land in the middle of the ravaged slums of Midgar.

Sitting on her little bar stool, sipping at her morning coffee, with perfectly black hair fanning her elbows, Tifa would be there. Tapping on the ring they shared, he knew she never removed them, she would read him. And before he sees what she's seen in his mind, she would deliver.

A touch on his hand, a waft of her unique scent, the sigh of her breath, the glow of her skin, and a taste of her love. She delivered a piece of his Promised Land.

A small tug on his lips made Tifa's eyes widen a fraction.

Yes. Cloud knew how to describe Tifa now. The cosy sight of her full lips slipping into a small smile mirroring the exact smile Cloud knew was gracing his own face made things very clear.

Some may say Tifa is just another barkeep- just another fighter- one of the heroes who saved the Planet. But Cloud knew better.

She was the woman who fully understood him, who loved him despite his flaws and saw the human beneath the armor of a soldier.

She was his Promised Land.

"I won't. But neither should you."

"Promise."