Deflagration (FFVII, Tifa and Barret, double-drabble)
Title: Deflagration
Fandom: FFVII
Characters/Pairings: Tifa, Barret
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: On the anniversary of Meteorfall. (200 word double-drabble)
There's different names for it. Meteorfall. Ascension. In Nibelheim, it's Independence, and Tifa has heard Avalanche Day in Corel. Yuffie still calls it The Day We Didn't All Die Screaming, and sends out annual cards. Tifa has one on the mantelpiece, pride of place next to a mastered Cure materia and a vase of tiny yellow flowers.
None of them talk or think much about it, and when the day rolls around again, it's always almost a surprise. Another year past, time that blooms and fades like the day's pyrotechnics, leaves only ash.
Apocalypse averted. Life, despite everything, goes on.
*
"Fireworks tonight?"
"Kid loves 'em." Barret smiles fondly, and Tifa remembers the festivities last year, Marlene shrieking with delight. He doesn't like fireworks much himself, Barret. After the mines, he told her, after the reactors, sudden noise and combustion never feel safe, no matter how distant.
Truth is, Tifa doesn't like 'em either. They don't bother her, it's just... they're pretty, they're incandescent, and then they're gone. She prefers permanence. But it's tradition - got to celebrate by blowing something up.
"Just like old times," she says, punching his arm lightly.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "But better."
Fandom: FFVII
Characters/Pairings: Tifa, Barret
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: On the anniversary of Meteorfall. (200 word double-drabble)
There's different names for it. Meteorfall. Ascension. In Nibelheim, it's Independence, and Tifa has heard Avalanche Day in Corel. Yuffie still calls it The Day We Didn't All Die Screaming, and sends out annual cards. Tifa has one on the mantelpiece, pride of place next to a mastered Cure materia and a vase of tiny yellow flowers.
None of them talk or think much about it, and when the day rolls around again, it's always almost a surprise. Another year past, time that blooms and fades like the day's pyrotechnics, leaves only ash.
Apocalypse averted. Life, despite everything, goes on.
*
"Fireworks tonight?"
"Kid loves 'em." Barret smiles fondly, and Tifa remembers the festivities last year, Marlene shrieking with delight. He doesn't like fireworks much himself, Barret. After the mines, he told her, after the reactors, sudden noise and combustion never feel safe, no matter how distant.
Truth is, Tifa doesn't like 'em either. They don't bother her, it's just... they're pretty, they're incandescent, and then they're gone. She prefers permanence. But it's tradition - got to celebrate by blowing something up.
"Just like old times," she says, punching his arm lightly.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "But better."