The Someone "If you have one true friend – you have more than your share": Thomas Fuller. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- He sat staring into brooding silence and from her vantage behind the bar, she watched him with eyes better suited to a hawk, just watching him and nothing else. She betrayed little other than vibrant concern from her dark eyes as her hands went deftly over the daily routines of washing a glass, drying the glass, putting the glass back into the rack where it was within easy reach for one of her explosive cocktail mixtures that the regulars came to Seventh Heaven for. Marlene, a young girl of an age around five years helped out as best she was able to; such a sweet young girl with a streak of shyness around people she didn't know very well, toying with a flower between her hands that caught what little light ever came creeping into the stinking mess that was the Slums. Downstairs the ribald rivalry of the small group of terrorists floated up and through floorboards and the lowered arcade machine, their secret hideaway from the prying eyes of the vulture world. Mechanically she checked the measure spigots on the upturned bottles; whiskey, dry whiskey, hard whiskey, vodka and gin. Mixers and schnapps, midori, bols and kassis. Each lined up for the nightly toll of draining alcohol and serving it, lined up as soldiers in a row and bang, bang, bang – each shot would make one fall down. She swallowed, catching a brief glance of her worry strained face in the dirty glass of the bar mirror that was behind all the bottles. Tifa Lockhart, a girl just coming into her twenties with large dark eyes and heavy shadows from nights of sleepless worry and insecurity. Her face was heart shaped and prone to worry lines between her straight brows, her full lipped mouth pursed in barely checked frustration and her normally shiny dark hair gritted with dust from a hard days work, drawn back and into a heavy ponytail that fishtailed naturally at the end. She paused in putting a glass down, her eyes roving her heavy fringe for the first signs of a silver hair, treachery in my own complexion would not be stood for, not when the cause of all her anxiety sat at a table and brooded his life away. Reined in from the thoughts, Tifa's eyes returned to where he sat. Distant as the winter skies, his glowing blue eyes were unfocused and his hair a golden halo about his head. Even in clothes that were dishevelled he somehow managed to look calm and collected, composed and ready for action at a moments notice. His hand was loosely clasped about the money Barrett had been forced to cough up after she'd been desperately trying to persuade him to stay. Desperate enough to dredge up the memories of that secret promise... ...and so it was that Tifa spent all her time now, simply waiting and wondering why time was running out on her faster than ever. It hadn't always been like this though. Once, a long time ago, things had been far simpler in her life. She rested her hand on the bartop, the cleaning rag held loosely in her fingers as her dark eyes watched him brush a hand arrogantly through his spiked haircut. No, once a long time ago, this would have been one of her wildest and strangest dreams, or perhaps nightmares... ---------------------------------------------------------------------- I was born in Nibelheim. Nibelheim is on the other continent, closest to what would be called Rocket Town because of a failed ShinRa venture, and the great aching chasms of Cosmo Canyon. Nibelheim suffers from a cool climate because of the nearby mountains, but in the summertime when we were allowed to play in the fields, the sunshine was bright and the air was warm with blue skies running endlessly overhead. My father was a semi successful business man and my mother doted on me as her only daughter. We lived in a good house in the Market district of Nibelheim and I wanted for nothing. I was taught how to play the piano and later how to manage a business as my father did. Whilst I never had the top grades in school, my mind was quick enough to catch onto the figures and sums of being a business person and so I grew up, assuming I would one day take over the family business. However, when I wasn't much older than eight or nine, my mother fell ill. My father drafted doctors from all across the area, we even had people from Cosmo Canyon come to look at mama. But it was no use. A few weeks later, mama died. I was too young to understand then why she had died, only that I was sad because I would never see or hear my beloved mama again. Someone told me that spirits go over the Nibel Mountains when they die... and for some reason, I believed them. I was headstrong and in deep grief and that combined madness pushed me to try and follow mama over the mountains. Only I slipped and fell. I woke up in a bed with my fathers worried face over me. He kept telling me never to go near Cloud again, because he was a trouble maker. I learned from Johnny later that Cloud had followed me when no one else had... and that he was probably the reason I fell. My father had blamed him. I blamed him partly for stopping me from seeing my mama. The truth is, despite me saying to him now that we were really good childhood friends, I hardly knew him. He was a quiet, shy kid who didn't fit in with any group. I didn't even like him all that much, so me and my friends stayed away from him. So even now I lie within lies. So it came as a real surprise that one day he called me out to the well. I went because I was curious. I wanted to see just what it was that he wanted to tell me so urgently that it couldn't wait until the morning. The stars that night... they were beautiful. The world turned on itself and the sky whirled and whirled until the stars left aching patterns on the brilliant velvet of forever. And he came to the Well to tell me that he was going away. I'd noticed recently how many fights he'd been into. So many young men were leaving Nibelheim... and it frightened me that I was being left behind. Many left to join Soldier... which is just what Cloud was doing now. In a moment of desperation I squeezed a childish promise from him that if ever I was in trouble then he would come and save me, like a shining hero from one of those stories and then it occurred to me; it wasn't Cloud I wanted to save me perse, simply a Hero. I wanted a hero. He promised eventually... and soon enough, he too left. I didn't know what to do with myself. I paid closer attention to my father's business and the running of the home as I was now the only woman left in it; and looked for something to spend my time on. Still afraid of the mountain I made myself swear to conquer it and day by day, I walked those paths and byways, I hunted out caves and began to know the mountain well. Soon enough I landed a part time job as a local guide for those travellers who sought to reach the town on the other side, or simply wanted to see the world from high up on the Nibel mountains. ShinRa's reactor however, which had been there since I was three, remained strictly off limits and neither was I stupid enough to go trespassing. ShinRa's business was not my own. When I was fourteen a travelling martial artist came to stop in Nibelheim, looking for students. His name was Zangan and he seemed to know my father. He asked me to take him on a tour of the mountains and it was there I asked to be his student. I half expected him to say no outright, but instead he accepted. Oh, no longer would I be the Tifa Lockhart all the boys had left behind in their rush to go to Midgar and to be in Soldier. I'd be martial artist, Tifa Lockhart, master of the open palm technique, adept of the water arts. I'd be strong and unstoppable in my own right! So I trained hard every day and sometimes every night, honing my body and aching to be stronger, aching to be harder and aching to be something. To be worthwhile. Eventually I grew to be so talented that even Zangan was pleasantly surprised at his find of such a good student in me. I enjoyed performing the exercises so much, that even between trips away, I worked harder than ever to excel my master and sensei. I anticipated the very day when he would look me in the eye and confess I had outstripped him, that I was ready to start travelling and seeing the world and maybe even taking on some students of my very own to spread my own natural talents among the world. And then... I heard news that Sephiroth was coming to Nibelheim. Perhaps Cloud would be with them, it would be wonderful to see someone my own age from Nibelheim for once! But he wasn't. There was only the General himself and a Soldier member called Zack, a lovely young man with a sweet smile, and two ordinary grunts. I was distressed. I had hoped that he'd return. Had he forgotten about us all already? Nevertheless, I performed my job and even got a photo taken with Sephiroth as a souvenir, and Zack who seemed insistent on being in it with me. I took them to the reactor and then back again as asked. Sephiroth frankly frightened me. There was a cold nothingness in his eyes on the return from the reactor that made my soul shrink heartily. So it was I stayed away from him and spoke a little with Zack who seemed more than willing to joke about softly with good humour, with his pale lavender eyes and jet black hair. He was good looking I suppose, in the way of those who know they are good looking and aren't afraid to use it to their advantage, but I sought only the silence of my dim thoughts and worn feelings, that I was slowly losing my touch on the world that had been my childhood. So I slept. When I woke, the world was made of fire. Immolated buildings and bodies lying everywhere and my father screaming as he ran up over the mountains. In the madness I grabbed what I could and ran through the fire, ignoring the cries of my sensei as I ran after my beloved papa towards the scene of Hell itself. I saw no one nor the mountain path, my feet unsteady and my heart hammering against my ribs, they should break! There on the other side rose the chair of Satan, the ShinRa reactor with the lurid glow of Mako energy being sucked relentlessly from the very earth underneath it. My papa had run inside so I followed him, only to see him be cut down by Sephiroth on the platform into the mouth of damnation. I slid down the chains and hurried on wavering feet, clattering to his side and staring in horror down at the blood which soaked from his chest to the lower echelons of the building. The sword lay useless by his side and my papa's eyes were wide, blank, dead. I began to tremble as all I knew slowly crumbled around me. I didn't register fully the scream that was ripped full bodied from my throat and thrown into the air. "Papa..." I sobbed, reaching for his clammy, dead hand, "Sephiroth? Sephiroth did this to you...didn't he?" My hand left his and found the hilt of the Masamune, held it close to me and I felt my father's blood trickle down my wrist. I shook. I burned. I hated. "Sephiroth...Soldier...Mako Reactors... ShinRa... I hate them ALL!" I screamed. I screamed until I could possibly hurt no longer. I screamed until my throat should erupt in blood from damaged vocal chords, until my heart bloomed with fire and my brain roasted in the agonies of betrayal. And then I found my legs, I found I was running, I found I was screaming his name as he stood as some fallen God before the altar of his own birth... ...and then I was falling. I fell. Someone came and in my mind I desperately painted the Hero there, and saw him. I saw Cloud. I heard his name being called... and then? Then there was nothing. I woke weeks later in terrible pain in a clinic, somewhere off towards the west of Midgar in an unnamed village. The doctor told me that my master Zangan had brought me here and left a simple letter to explain everything to me. With trembling, bandaged hands I read the letter. He named me his greatest student, he detailed the events of the Nibelheim incident and enclosed money. He said he would see to the burial of my family and friends properly and that I should forget all about ShinRa. That revenge was never the way for a martial artist to go, but wherever I went and if I chose to teach, he had left me a set of simple work gloves to protect my hands with. I was fifteen, and I was disowned by the whole world. Unable to take the advice offered I gathered up what I owned in the world when ready and set out for Midgar. Somehow I would bring ShinRa down I swore to myself. After all, I knew Johnny lived somewhere in the Slums, right? So there was a chance I could at least find somewhere to crash. Midgar itself is a horrible place. It squats on the upper eastern part of the continent like a boil needing to be lanced, filled with cruelty and bigotry. ShinRa owns the upper plate world, where the rich people live in apartments and enjoy the benefits of natural light and cleaner air. Those below the plate live in what is called the Slums, divided into eight sectors underneath each reactor. It was on my journey into Midgar that I came to rest in Sector seven. I was exhausted and passed out on a bench, still not fully recovered from my wound. When I came to, I was in a bed with a gruff looking man hanging by my shoulder and a nervous young woman with large glasses and frizzy pale auburn hair, each looking down at me in worry. I wasn't wearing the clothes I'd fallen asleep in, but luckily neither saw fit to mention the horrible scar torn on my breastbone. Instead they offered me food and shelter and I explained my past to them, and why I had come to Midgar. The large man introduced himself as being Barrett Wallace, a former miner from Corel. I had heard about the incident there from some smaller reports that filtered through official hands. He said he was setting up a terrorist movement called Avalanche, that was setting out to tear ShinRa down. Would I like to join? ...and bitterly, I swore my vengeance. Then you showed up, Cloud, and complicated everything. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- "Time for the mission," Barrett announced, dragging her from her bitter musings. She glanced up and nodded, coming around the bar and closing it behind herself as Cloud tried to wedge in yet another protest. Tifa fixed him with a steely glare, there was no chance of her suffering any more of his nonsensical mutterings and he quickly buttoned his lips over whatever new comment he was going to try poisoning the air with. Turning those dark eyes onto Barrett, the martial artist tugged the work gloves on and nodded. "I'm ready. Are we all equipped with Materia? Cloud, explain how to use it to Barrett whilst we go wait for the train." "Me? Why me?" Because I said so. "Because you were in Soldier." She looked away quickly, afraid the lie would bloom in her eyes. Lies, lies, LIES, she wanted to berate herself, always telling lies! She didn't wait to hear the bickering start again between the two men who seemed to rub up against each other so badly, she had a mission to do and very little time to do it in. It was then, listening to them, that she'd never felt so alone before, lost in her thoughts. The walk to the Train station didn't take too long, thankfully it only lay just beyond the Sector Seven entryway and there were always plenty of trains coming and going to the upper plates. She nodded to the controller who tipped his hat back, then went to stand next to Jessie and the inseparable pair, Biggs and Wedge. Her hands felt jittery... this was it... this was it, finally... ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The monster skidded along the causeway towards them. She raised her hands in a panic and danced backwards with Barrett at her side, "This is from Soldier?" she yelled out to him. The helicopter carrying the President was flying away into nothing, a mere speck in the distance and fading from view quickly. Barrett grimaced at her, his dark skin creasing and his flecked gold-brown eyes tightening around the edges with his temper, as Cloud called back from the other side of the machine, " No way, it's just a machine!" "I don't care WHAT it is!" Barrett flung himself forward with a yell, "I'm gonna bust him up!" "Genius," she muttered sourly to herself as the robot retaliated. It was a mass of wire and machinery panels, arms like tree trunks and a small head. From what she could see, it was armoured heavily and stocked to the gills with heavy artillery weapons, front and back, making it somewhat impenetrable. Barrett skid past her, arms up to try and take most of the blow. "Shiiiiii-" she heard vaguely as he went flying past. Setting her feet, she tapped into the power of the fire materia on her arm, the spell flaring around her fingers with a burning sensation. Tifa flung her hands forwards to try and direct the magic towards the monstrous contraption, the flames springing into life in amongst the wires. From behind it she heard a vague ‘chink' of metal and could only assume that Cloud was doing his bit for the other side of attacking. It turned and she flung out a hand, "Watch o-" but instead of firing at Cloud, it rained down at her with a storm of bullets. Dodging as quickly as she could, a stray bullet thudded into her shoulder and sent her almost falling over the edge of the narrow walkway as several more ‘chink' noises filled the air, Barrett and Cloud fighting quite happily. Grabbing the rail, Tifa scowled at their incredible concern for her safety and then lifted a hand to her shoulder in pain. Able to ignore it, her temper flared and raced through the inside of her, burning her up from the inside, much like that night, years and years ago. Crossing the distance, she could almost hear the cries of warning but ignored them. She threw several punches to what would normally be a person's midsection on the robot and then stuck her foot into the wiring panel. Without giving it time to recover, she heaved herself backwards in a spectacular arc of a somersault, ripping wires and panels off in a spray of electrical hardware. Then she caught herself with a skid of her boots just as a lightning bolt rained down from nowhere onto the machine, not mere breaths after she'd moved. The machine juddered, shuddered, shivered and then fell over in a slight heap with a buzzing sound. Curious but not stupid enough to get close, she took a step back. "..." and as she did, there was an almighty explosion. Someone pulled her down to the metal causeway and she lay there, trying to breathe against the grate pushed onto her cheek. When the searing heat withdrew, she sat up only to see in horror that Cloud was clinging onto the causeway for dear life. "Cloud!" A hand grasped her arm as she threw herself towards the dangling figure of the ex-soldier, and she knew from the strength in the hold it was Barrett, "It's gonna blow, let's go Tifa!" She looked up, and knew the tears were trying to escape her eyes, warring with her stubborn nature, "Can't you do something!" "Not a damn thing." She wrenched her arm out of his hold somehow, the bullet wound bleeding harder and extended her arm to Cloud who looked up at her with those shining blue eyes, shining hard into the sudden darkness of the reactor room. She willed him to take her hand. She willed him to want to live. She willed so hard she thought she'd break from trying to push into his stubborn mind to continue on... to take...her hand... "Cloud!" she cried out, "Please don't die, you can't die!" You're the last link to my home. "There's still so much I want to tell you!" He looked up at her, "I know, Tifa." He knows? He knows you've been lying? Does he know something is wrong! Barrett called out over her, "Yo, you gonna be awright?" "I don't know if I can hold on.. shit... I can't hold on much longer..." His hands were slipping already and she reached harder than ever. "Don't go cryin' like a woman," vague irritation swept through her at Barrett's words. "There ain't nothing I can do for ya – ya gotta do it yourself." Cloud looked to Barrett, meaningfully, from me. What did that look mean? "Barrett..." "Alright, then, later." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- And Cloud dropped. Arms came about me to drag me away as I watched in horror as my childhood link, my maybe sometime friend just vanished into the yawning depths of the underworld and all I could do was hold out my hand in wretched helplessness. I watched him go and even as I was dragged away I knew that I had lost something else. I could hear the ticking of the clock. I could hear the snick-snick of the second hand, the minute hand, the hour hand and I knew that I was running out of time. I was always running out of time...
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