We're all, each and every one of us, searching for the answer to our
existence through the sordid and convulsed affairs shared between us
each day. The misinterpretations and expectations experienced by the
masses can be nothing short of...exhausting. Even the most bright
minded and seemingly optimistic can be taken down by these daily
strifes, turning them jaded...and when jaded, one grows desperate for a
connection. Desperate for a feeling. Desperate for a belief.
Tifa Lockheart was desperate for anything.
Between wishing she could fix her truck and wishing she could fix her
life, there was no peace of mind for the young martial artist.
Three years past, and still things felt so...unsolved. With no Shinra
dominating the world, organizations and companies of all sorts and
shapes and sizes were now coming out of the woodwork. It was a world
freed of the oppression experienced by the Shinra Corporation and
Sephiroth. This world was one driven to rebuild, to spread out, to
expand, and to dominate. New towns, new cities, new technologies...
Quite suddenly, Tifa felt old.
...Quite suddenly, Tifa felt abandoned.
Like all heroes, she learned quickly that with its safety guaranteed for
the time being, the world no longer required the services of a warrior.
Sure, Avalanche had its fifteen minutes of fame...but after that, they
became prey for tabloids and ridiculous conspiracy theories. They
became figureheads...symbols with no use and no meaning.
Well...perhaps Barret Wallace and Cait Sith, otherwise known as Reeve,
could say differently. Barret (as all expected) returned to Corel and
helped it become the prime supplier of energy through use of its
coalmines. It quadrupled in size and was now considered the 'city of
opportunity'. Tifa couldn't have been prouder.
Reeve, for all extensive purposes, found it necessary to help those in
Mideel and Midgar. Thus far he had built the citizens of Mideel a new
town on the island, one that he named quite aptly, "New Mideel". He
also managed to rebuild two-fourths of Midgar, making it safer, and
better, than it was before.
Red XIII, otherwise known as Nanaki, returned to Cosmo Canyon after
Meteor. Two years later Bugenhagen died, and Nanaki became the leader
and guardian of the Canyon. Cid, returning to Shera, married the young
scientist, and the two had a baby last year. The baby was a girl. They
named her 'Misty'. Vincent, being the silent and anti-social person
that he was, took to wandering the world, not unlike Yuffie did when
Avalanche first met her. The ninja herself had returned to Wutai,
bringing with her the materia the group had been willing to part with
(which was still a substantial amount) and more money than perhaps even
her father had. Yuffie was indeed, smug.
Cloud...though he had regained his memory, chose to isolate himself.
Tifa would like to say that he was as bad as Vincent, but at least
Vincent stopped by every so often. Cloud avoided them all. Tifa wasn't
even sure where he was at the moment.
Thoughts of the blonde led the woman to abandon her efforts with her
truck for the time being. Tifa was standing in her garage, smudges on
her cheeks and chin, dirty denim overalls held up by a single strap
whilst the other side of the overalls hung limp. Sighing, the woman
dumped the wrench she held in her hand in the toolbox to her side.
Stooping down briefly, she picked the toolbox from the floor and placed
it on the shelf at the back. "Another day..." Tifa said, snatching a
rag from the same shelf and wiping her hands, which were black with oil.
Glaring back at her truck, an old Shinra model, she pointed her finger
at it and said, "You're gonna work, or else!"
When the truck didn't reply, the woman rolled her eyes and switched the
light off as she exited through the door to the kitchen. The linoleum
floor was checkered black and white, the fridge an aged relic of times
now long past. Opening its door, Tifa took a beer from inside, twisting
off the cap and muttering, "Need to get some groceries..." she shut the
refrigerator door with a bump of her side. Taking a swig of the beer,
Tifa migrated from her kitchen into her living room, which she had
decorated with an excess of pillows and candles. The overall color
scheme was a rich and soft lavender and indigo.
Crashing into her couch, Tifa already felt the tension in her muscles
melt away and she sighed luxuriously. Kicking off her boots, she lay
out on the sofa completely, her head propped up by a pillow and her feet
dangling over the armrest on the other end. Half stretching, half
reaching, Tifa grabbed the remote control from the coffee table, and
pushing the power button, her TV turned on.
This was how Tifa Lockheart lived. Each day, she'd wake up, have
breakfast, work on the truck till noon, stop and eat lunch, continue
working on the truck until late evening, then she'd stop, have a beer,
and fall asleep on the couch. Occasionally she did volunteer work, but
she didn't really need a steady job. The money she earned with her
adventures in Avalanche was enough to put her in retirement. Even after
three years, Tifa barely spent any money on anything more than she
needed. She had always been simple that way.
Though, at times, the loneliness would get to her, she would only have
to remember that Corel was only a few hours away, and Rocket Town? It
was barely a forty-five minute drive. ("If I can get the truck to
work." Tifa thought with a roll of her eyes.) She had, by now, come to
terms with the fact that she and Cloud would never be. Cloud still felt
responsible for Aeris' death, and was still in a short of shock over all
that had happened to him. Tifa...supposed she understood how he felt.
She was still in a bit of shock too.
The town she lived in, a generally new and still growing town, was
called Tiesmire. Here, Tifa chose to start her new life...if one could
call her current existence that. Dissatisfaction and depression rested
deep within Tifa, as much as she tried to remain optimistic about
things. She tended to avoid the locals, burying herself in her work in
the garage. The truck she had taken from Nibleheim. It hadn't run for
years and it became almost a town landmark...however, Tifa felt, despite
the pain and tragedy experienced within the limits of the town, she
needed to take a piece of it with her. Somehow, in her head, she had
managed to convince herself that if she fixed the truck...
...Then she'd fix the past.
The television set washed Tifa's wearied face in its glow. The volume
was low, so the woman couldn't understand what was being said. She
focused on the lips of the man on the screen, who was currently holding
up a book. His face seemed waxy and stretched, and his teeth looked
false. Placing a hand on the book he was holding up, the man mouthed
the word 'destiny'. Slowly, Tifa's eyes began to droop and the word
appeared in her head as vivid and as real as if it were a living
breathing creature sitting before her.
"Destiny..."
Whispering the word to herself, Tifa gradually slipped into an uneasy
sleep.
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