[FF7] The Space Left By You
When Cloud doesn’t return home like he had said he would, Tifa starts the routine of punching in the numbers to his PHS, knowing he won’t pick up. She expects to hear the dialling tone before she’s directed to leave a voice mail. It’s a routine she’s long been used to, in the times where Cloud would stay away for weeks at a time. It’s a set of motions she hasn’t needed to perform in a long time, and she silently worries Cloud’s slipping back into his old Geostigma ways.
But what Tifa doesn’t expect to hear is an automated voice telling her, “Sorry, the number you have dialled could not be connected.”
She’s still numbly staring at the phone in her hand when Denzel stumbles in, sleepily rubbing his eyes. “Tifa,” he begins softly, a yawn threatening to swallow the rest of his words, “is Cloud gonna be home tonight?”
She doesn’t know. She tells herself that Cloud must have accidentally broken his PHS during his delivery; he can be surprisingly clumsy at times. She doesn’t want to think of the million other reasons she can’t connect.
Tifa turns and gives Denzel a small smile, putting the phone back in its receiver. “What are you doing up so late? Go back to bed.” When he gets that stubborn look in his face (the boy can be like Cloud, in some regards), she puts her hands on her hips and says sternly, “Go on.”
And she ushers him back to his room when Denzel tries to refuse again. She can see his meagre attempts to protest become squashed under his own sleepiness. After she’s tucked Denzel in bed, she takes her own advice and heads to her own for sleep, ready to compose in her head a lightly berating lecture for when Cloud returns.
Dawn comes.
Still no Cloud.
A week passes. Tifa has her hands full running the 7th Heaven and turning aside delivery requests for Cloud. Matters aren’t helped when both Marlene and Denzel periodically ask her when Cloud is coming home. She reassures them as best she can when she doesn’t have the answers, but she can tell her responses don’t satisfy the two children. It’s not so unusual for Cloud to be away for so long, she tells herself, but every night, before she falls asleep, she strains her ears, hoping to hear the purr of Fenrir pulling in and familiar footsteps inside.
Yuffie is the first of her friends to ask after Cloud.
The ninja has a way of unexpectedly dropping by, and this time is no different. With her is Nanaki, who looks like he has been dragged around Edge semi-unwillingly by Yuffie. The feline slinks in through the door and makes himself comfortable on the floor while Yuffie regales Tifa with an extremely detailed retelling of how they took out a Midgar Zolom outside of Kalm. Tifa just smiles and continues to wash the dishes, the ninja’s over exaggerated punches and kicks and loud voice filling the room with a comfortable noise.
But then she asks, “Hey, is Cloud in?” and Tifa’s smile turns to stone. Yuffie continues talking, her back turned to Tifa as she gestures wildly while she speaks. “I need some of that water. Some travellers turned up in Wutai with the ‘stigma.”
Tifa turns off the tap and starts stacking plates, not looking at the ninja as she says, “No, he isn’t in.”
Something in her response must have betrayed her, because Nanaki says from the floor, “Tifa,” tail curling around his hindquarters as he regards her with his good eye. “Where is Cloud?”
Tifa stares at the feline for a long moment, aware of the unnatural silence from Yuffie, before she puts down the last plate and slowly shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
Tifa can’t help but feel a little helpless, watching Yuffie’s silhouette disappear over the horizon. She wants to follow Yuffie out of Edge, out to the Midgar wastes, and search for Cloud, but with Barret looking for oil and the 7th Heaven to run and Denzel and Marlene to look after, she can’t just leave like Yuffie has.
”I’m not going to let another friend just disappear!” Yuffie had stubbornly said, turning her head so Tifa couldn’t see her face. It hadn’t mattered; Tifa knew there had been a tremble in the stubborn girl’s lip. Vincent’s disappearance had affected Yuffie the most. And now Cloud is gone.
Yuffie may be the Princess of Wutai, but the only real commitment she has is to herself and her friends.
Tifa acknowledges that Yuffie’s grown since their first meeting in the forests outside Junon; the ninja had the good grace to look torn when Nanaki had reminded her of the reason she had come to Edge in the first place. But Yuffie had quickly solved that problem by bullying the feline into taking the church water to Wutai for her.
A part of Tifa wonders if she’s just repeating the way she spent her life in Nibelheim. Wanting out, but unwilling to break out of what she’d grown accustomed to. Continuing with routine, because it’s easy and familiar and predictable. Not at all filled with unknowns and abrupt changes that makes it hard to know where she stands in it all.
But another part of her sighs and shakes her head, chiding, it’s not the same. Back then, she’d waited and waited and waited for a hero -- the blonde hero that managed to escape the small town life -- to come and take her away.
She doesn’t want to be taken away, now. Not anymore. Not when she’s taking care of two children.
Tifa knows Marlene and Denzel are independent enough. They know it, and never fail to remind her with a readymade breakfast during mornings after a particularly gruelling night running the bar. But when so many of their party have lost family and loved ones, Tifa doesn’t want them to look back at their childhood and remember guardians who would keep on leaving them. Because when she looks at all the other children she’s come across in her life, whether it is in the slums of Midgar or in Edge, Tifa understands that loved ones don’t need to be dead for bitterness to creep into the mind. And while Denzel and Marlene are still under her care, she will shield them from further hurt in their lives as much as she can.
They haven’t grown up yet. Cloud has.
“Tifa. I have some news for you.”
She nearly drops the phone in shock at the sound of that voice. “Vincent?” She can scarcely believe her ears. “It’s good to hear from you!”
She leaves out the we thought you were dead from her greeting.
“I’m fine.” There’s a lengthy pause that’s both familiar and worrying. The fact Vincent has called in the first place can only mean serious things. “…Tifa. We found Cloud’s bike in the Midgar wastes. Damaged, but still functional.”
It takes a while for TIfa to realise the hand not holding the phone has curled into a fist. Hope, after all this time with so little news? But some dread, too; what could have caused Cloud to abandon his previous bike? She hardly dares to lift her voice above a breathless whisper. “…And Cloud?”
Vincent doesn’t mince words. “No sign of him.”
Tifa tries not to deflate at his reply, but ends out letting out a long, drawn out sigh anyway. Something else Vincent had said catches her attention, though. “We? Who else is with you?” She hears a loud yell from the other end of the connection, and Tifa can practically hear Vincent wince over on the other end of the line. Yuffie’s voice is distinctive, if not the volume of it. Tifa can’t quite keep her small laugh to herself, even though a part of her feels hollow. “I guess that answers that.”
Another unintelligible yell comes from the other end of the connection before Vincent says, “We’ll keep looking.”
“Thank you.” And because it’s something she’s always told him in the past, she adds, “Come visit the 7th Heaven some time, alright?”
He makes a noncommittal sound and the call drops.
When news of Cloud’s disappearance reaches the others, they all, at various points in time, drop by the bar to talk to Tifa and keep the children and her company for a little while. They all, in their own quaint ways, take pains to reassure her that Cloud will come back “once the kid’s got his head screwed on straight!” as Cid had put it. She appreciates their sentiments -- except Reno’s, who apparently had thought being rowdier would take her mind off things -- but as the time since Cloud’s disappearance stretches, it’s hard to believe in those words anymore. Eventually, the reassurances stop, but the companionship doesn’t.
Sometimes, she seeks peaceful counsel in Aerith’s church. Its quiet serenity often lends a balm to her heart and a nudge in the right direction. Sometimes, she brings Denzel, or Marlene, or both. This time, it’s just Denzel accompanying her. Aerith’s church is empty today, and though the flowers are gone, the pond that has taken their place is still, pristine, and pure. Denzel runs ahead of Tifa, his shoes thudding against the wooden flooring, drowning out the sound of her own, slower, footsteps as she follows him. By the time she catches up to him, he’s standing in front of where the Buster Sword leans against a wall, its base surrounded by flowers that never wilt.
Tifa silently moves to stand beside him; she knows Denzel misses Cloud most of the two children.
“Cloud was going to teach me how to use a sword,” he says quietly, after a long moment of silence. “He promised to teach me how to fight.” Tifa is quite sure Cloud hasn’t said anything about teaching Denzel how to fight, but she’s not about to interrupt the boy. “He promised.” He hangs his head. “He’s not coming back, is he?”
Aerith would know where Cloud is, a part of her feels bitterly. Aerith always has a way of knowing things they don’t. Cloud sometimes mentions her name, softly, when he thinks Tifa can’t hear, and she always pretends not to hear the words that aren’t for her ears. But Tifa can’t feel jealous of the deceased flower girl; she knows Aerith holds a special place in his heart. The same way Aerith holds a special place in her heart. The same way Aerith holds a special place in all their hearts.
She’s not like Nanaki, who can hear the Lifestream when he listens hard enough in his waking moments. The best Tifa can do is remember her.
Tifa’s fingers lightly brush the red ribbon tied around her arm.
Cloud had mentioned honour, dreams, a legacy, in relation to the Buster Sword. But whenever Tifa looks at it, all she can think of is how it had put a heavy weight on Cloud’s shoulders more than anything. He had never told her the whole story behind it, just that people had died in passing down this legacy. She thinks that if the Buster Sword is a legacy, then it’s a pretty lousy one for bringing unhappiness to its inheritors. It’s a legacy she thinks shouldn’t continue, a legacy she refuses to pass on.
She just does what she can.
“Denzel,” she says quietly, squatting down beside him so she’s at eye level. Gently taking his shoulders, she turns him so that he’s facing her. None of her friends favour the sword, and her one experience with using one put her off using them completely. “You don’t need a sword to fight.” She gives him a sunny smile. “You’ve seen me, right?”
A pause, before a small nod. But there’s still that unhappy look in his face. She knows Denzel had been looking forward to learning how to use the sword. She hopes she can give him something else to look forward to instead.
“You know, Denzel,” she begins. “carrying a sword tells people, ‘stay away’. But how can you help people if they’re scared of you? People need a helping hand more than a sword these days.” There’s still so much rebuilding left to do, so many shattered lives to piece back together. The monsters that roam the wilderness are the least of peoples’ worries when the creatures mostly stay away from civilisation. “But if you need to fight to defend others, then if you’ve got what it takes in here,” and she gives Denzel a light tap on the chest with a closed fist, “your hands can be stronger than any steel.”
Denzel doesn’t look quite convinced, but Tifa knows he’ll come around in time and gives him a smile as they leave the church. “If you want to learn, I can teach you.”
The day ends with little incident, and after she tucks the children in, she curls up and lets sleep take her. She hears Aerith in her dreams that night. “Cloud’s gone. He’s where he needs to be.”
Tifa squashes the part of her that wants to tell the flower girl, “But I need him here, too,” because it’s not quite true anymore.
In the morning, she picks up the phone and turns down another delivery request. This time, she adds with a sense of finality in the pit of her stomach, “I’m sorry, but the Strife delivery service is no longer in business.”
She still misses him, sometimes.
Author’s Note: Wow! First time I’ve written for the FF7 fandom! I admit it’s been a long time since I’ve fully replayed the original game and am not quite up to speed on everything that happens in the Compilation, so I apologise for any mistakes! Why did Cloud disappear? This story is based off The Fifth Act by sinnatious (written with permission) so if you’ve read that, you’ll know! And if you haven’t, well, now’s a good time!
Thank you for reading!