Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tifa’s favorite part of being on the road was when they set up camp for the night. Surviving each day was a gamble; ending each day with her friends was the reward. More often than not, she handled the cooking while the others hunted down wild game or cleared the space for them to set up for the night. Camping in Cosmo Canyon was an alien experience. They’d taken on the arid conditions between Midgar and the Grasslands and the humid expanse of Corel, but the canyon was ancient and unforgiving. They’d roughed it one night before they’d arrived in Cosmo Canyon proper, and they would have to again on the way back to the airstrip. Although Tifa wasn’t thrilled about the whole thing, she knew she could at least look forward to the night sky. It was always more beautiful in the desert.

When she was younger, Tifa’s dad would take her out on clear nights and point out the constellations they could see from the village. He told her stories of sailors navigating by the stars when there was nothing but an endless ocean around them. She also learned how mountaineers closer to home would rely on them when they were unfortunate enough to be exposed to the elements after dark. She couldn’t remember many constellations anymore, but she had her favorites, and she’d almost developed a secret ritual of looking for them on the nights when stars were all they had for cover. 

She’d always associated the sight of Cassiopeia with her mother, taking comfort under the seated queen’s watchful eye. She could pick out a few of the zodiac signs, too. She was a Taurus, so that one was easy enough. Tifa could remember a stint in her preteen years when she’d cultivated a passing interest in astrology, and she’d do her best to interpret the syndicated horoscopes in the newspaper for Emilio and the other boys. She could hardly remember their faces anymore, much less their birthdays. 

Cloud was a Leo. She told herself his unruly hair always made it easy to remember, but that wasn’t the truth. The truth was she remembered because she wanted to. He never asked her for his horoscope— never asked her for anything. But she’d wanted to be ready just in case. 

Eventually, her friends drifted away like leaves in the eastbound winds, and she folded up those memories like the fragile and yellowed newspapers they’d come from. She moved on like they had, honing her body and mind and trimming away what no longer served her, including the stars in the paper and above the water tower.

“Uh, hello? Anyone in there?” Yuffie’s voice snatched Tifa out of her nostalgia spiral, which was probably for the best.

“Sorry,” she chirped. “Just thinking ahead about cooking later. What were you saying?”

She was walking next to Yuffie while Barret, Red, and Cait scouted out a spot to make camp up ahead. Cloud and Aerith brought up the rear. 

“I was saying we should spar! Battle Royale style, you know? Me against you, against Cloud? That’d be pretty fun, right? Maybe double up if Red wants to join in. Barret, probably not so much. He’s not really a melee guy. Then again, if Cait wants in…” she drifted off.

Aerith raised her hand. “I can referee!” 

“See!” Yuffie said, looking over her shoulder and then back to Tifa. Tifa was taken aback, but fortunately, she didn’t have to scramble for a polite non-answer. 

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cloud said. “Reputation’ll take a hit if I start beating up kids.”

Yuffie glanced over her shoulder again and squinted. Tifa knew what was coming. Her laugh had an edge to it as she taunted, “ Ooooohoho. I see. You could’ve just said you wanted Tifa for yourself, pal . No skin off my back!” She stretched her arms lazily overhead—an exaggerated display of nonchalance. “No, siree.” 

Tifa said nothing and kept walking, pretending Yuffie wasn’t looking her way. 

Cloud huffed in annoyance, once again failing to deny Yuffie’s accusations. Tifa noticed he had an awfully hard time doing that. Then again, it was probably only for her benefit anyway. He’d been especially nice to her after her lapse in judgment in Gongaga. If it were anyone else, she’d feel angry for being patronized. With Cloud, it just bummed her out.

 “Can’t do that either,” he dismissed, “Wouldn’t be fair if she’s gotta bring fists to a sword fight.”

Speaking of patronizing!

Tifa scoffed and turned around to face him. She clasped her hands behind her back and continued walking backward, trying not to relish the surprise on his face. She couldn’t help but smile anyway.

“Such a gentleman!” She giggled. “Hate to break it to ya, merc . But I think you’d be the one bringing a knife to a gunfight.” She made a show of flexing her right arm before turning back around, never missing a step.

Aerith whistled. “Ouch! You’d better back out now, Cloud, and save face while you still can! She’s gonna destroy you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well. There are worse ways to go.”

After a few more minutes of Yuffie’s trash-talking, Barret sent up a flare, signaling they’d staked out a spot for the night. By the time the four of them caught up, Barret was already clearing the site of dried brush and debris. 

Yuffie flopped onto a petrified log in front of the pile Tifa suspected would shortly become their campfire.

“So! What’s for dinner?” She looked at Tifa, and Tifa realized she wasn’t being rhetorical. 

She looked around the barren, dusty landscape and came up empty. 

“I dunno.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Any ideas, Red—Nanaki? Sorry.”

“It’s fine!” He bounded over, tail alight and swishing. He sniffed the air for a beat before panting excitedly. “I don’t think we’ll have any problems,” he said confidently.

Tifa turned back to Yuffie. “Well then, I guess we’re having whatever you guys bring back!” 

Yuffie whined, but Cloud nudged her shoulder, urging her to get up. “Come on, Yuffie. Let’s go unless you wanna eat a mouthful of buckshot for dinner again.” 

“ Bird shot, jackass,” Barret called over his shoulder. “Don’t act like that Zu wouldn’t have snatched your skinny ass up and fed you to her babies if I hadn’t lit her up.”

Cloud rolled his eyes as he and Yuffie followed behind Red. “Whatever you say, big man.” Despite his best efforts, Tifa still saw the way he smiled at riling Barret up. She laughed, earning her a glare from Barret. 

“Play nice, you two.” She said for the nth time over the past couple of weeks. 

Cloud didn’t turn back; he just raised his hand and waved an acknowledgment as he walked away. Barret grumbled something that she was pretty sure she wasn’t meant to hear. 

Once they were gone, Tifa surveyed their campsite again. 

“Alright, Miss sous-chef,” she addressed Aerith, hands on her hips. “Let’s get to it.”

By the time the hunting party returned, Tifa was ready and waiting. Aerith had gotten bored with prep about halfway through and ended up helping Barret and Cait assemble the rest of the campsite. It was just as well. Tifa didn’t usually want help in the kitchen, anyway.

She was trying to decide whether to stew or roast the drohdrohs they’d found. Red assured her they were near enough to chicken, but that remained to be seen. She decided roasting would be quicker.

“Man,” he said as Tifa made quick work quartering one of the birds, “you think you could make those steamed buns you told me about sometime?”

Tifa didn’t look up from her task, but she smiled to herself. It was bittersweet to remember those early Sector 8 days at Pop’s cart— made sweeter by Red’s newfound enthusiasm. 

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. “We don’t have anything for the dough or any of the garnishes, but even if we did, I’m still not sure what meat we used or how it was seasoned.”

“I’d never know the difference!” He argued. He was one plea away from putting his front paws on her worktop. 

“ I would!” she laughed, ruffling his spiky mane. “Maybe next time we make a supply run, I’ll see what I can do.” He began wagging his tail. “But no promises!”

“Mm-mm-mm.” Barret shook his head with a laugh. “ Pop’s Famous Sector 8 Steamed Buns. Damn, those were something else. Wedge talked about ‘em for days after that first time.”  He looked up at the fading twilight sky above them and stopped short.  The memory of Wedge was still raw after their encounter with the other members of Avalanche. 

But it would heal. It wouldn’t be pretty and probably leave an ugly scar, but it would heal like everything else. Like any other wound, it would heal or kill them from the inside out. 

“What are you talking about?” Cloud asked as he approached with two more birds. His voice startled her even though it shouldn’t have. It didn’t belong in that memory.

“Just more lessons from life on the ground floor,” she looked up and smiled. 

“Must’ve missed that one,” he said, recalling her crash course from his first days in Sector 7. He smirked knowingly, but something was off. “You need help with anything?”

Tifa realized too late he’d taken her answer as a dismissal. Oh, you just had to be there; I couldn’t possibly explain. You’d understand if— she cut off the voice that catastrophized their every interaction, especially since Gongaga.  

“If you want to start skewering these birds and throwing them on the fire, that’d be a big help.”

He stood a little taller at the word “help,” and she knew she’d nailed it. 

“Yeah, I got you.” He said, grabbing a skewer from the pan they’d been soaking in. He loaded up two of them, and as he walked toward the fire, his silhouette became a hollow void against the backdrop of the blaze. She forced her attention back to the task at hand. 

Yeah, Cloud. I know. 

That night, they’d welcomed the stars with full bellies. They’d all dispersed throughout the campsite, and Tifa reclined against the petrified log, absently scanning the sky and looking for anything to keep her from dwelling on the next leg of their journey. The phrase “going to Nibelheim” meant nothing and everything to her. There was no Nibelheim, yet she was one of the last people to remember that there ever had been, and the harder she tried not to think about it, the louder those conflicting thoughts became. 

She knew it was Cloud approaching without having to look.

“Thanks for cooking, as usual,” he said softly, like he didn’t want to break her concentration. He sat beside her, near enough for her to smell the smoke from the fire and the cheap mineral oil he liked to use to clean his sword. 

She hummed in appreciation. “Thanks for bringing back something for me to cook, as usual.”

“Any time.”

Tifa kept her eyes on the sky, happy to sit in comfortable silence. She felt Cloud’s eyes on her for a moment until he followed suit. 

“Anything good up there?” He asked in that same hushed tone. 

Aha! Found it. She thought, connecting the last celestial dots into a shape she knew.

“Who says I’m looking?”

Cloud shrugged. “You looked pretty focused. Just thought you might be.” 

She suppressed a smile, humoring him.

“Hm. See that star right above that cliff?”

“Uh…yeah, I think.”

“And then the two that are kind of above and off to the side? Like a V?”

“Yep.”

Tifa pointed out each of the other six stars that made up the constellation she’d spotted moments ago. “That’s Leo.”

“What, like the zodiac sign?”

She laughed. “Yep. Just like the zodiac sign.”

“Huh,” he sounded amused. “What’s mine?”

Tifa clasped her hands in her lap. “Your star sign? Why’d you expect me to know?”

“Weren’t you always the expert?” 

Tifa’s stomach flipped. She didn’t know what was more surprising: that he knew about that or that he’d asked so earnestly, without a hint of teasing. 

“I don’t know about that,” she laughed. “When’s your birthday again?” 

August 11th.

“August 11th.”

She pretended to consider and calculate for a moment. 

“Leo.”

She saw the corners of his mouth turn upward even as he kept his eyes on the stars. 

“Hell yeah. What’s yours? Is it up there?”

Tifa drew her knees to her chest and looked up again.

“Taurus. And no. Wrong time of year.”

“Which one is that?”

“The bull.”

“That tracks.”

She hit his arm even as she stifled a laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “Aren’t they pretty stubborn?”

“Yes, exactly! Are you saying that’s me?”

“When you’ve put your mind to something?” He chuckled. “Yeah, it is.”

He had a point. She still scowled at him on principle.

“It just means you get shit done,” he added. “That’s a good thing. Like…when you dragged me around the slums those first few days to help me find work. Even though I was kind of a dick about it, you already had it in your head that you were going to help me out, and you did.”

“Dragged you, huh? I don’t remember you saying no, most of the time.”

“Nope. Had to learn about life on the ground floor, somehow.” She caught the trace of sarcasm in his voice but wasn’t surprised. 

Tifa giggled. “Well, someone had to teach you.”

Cloud made a sound of agreement and leaned back against the log. Tifa turned to look at him again. She knew he could feel her eyes on her like she could always feel his. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and looked up again. Maybe it’s just easier to talk to the stars than each other. She ran her hands up and down her shins nervously. 

“So…my first job back in Midgar was at a food cart in Sector 8.” 

“Oh.”

Tifa wasn’t sure if that was a question, but she continued. 

“I used to have to sell a thousand steamed buns a day.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Mhm. But they were good. Like, really good. Pops, the guy who owned the cart, always used to say people liked them because they tasted like home, no matter where you were from.” 

“Pretty bold claim.”

“Yeah. He was right, though. People loved them. Anyway,” she continued, stretching her legs in front of her, “One day, this guy I’d never seen before showed up and ordered twenty-two buns to go. Not twenty,” she emphasized, holding up two fingers,  “twenty- two .” 

Cloud didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t looking at the stars anymore. 

“Take a wild guess who it was.” She watched him think it through, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding. 

“Sounds like Wedge.”

“Yep,” she giggled. “One for Biggs, one for Jessie, and twenty for him.”

Cloud chuckled. “And that’s how you got in with Avalanche, huh?”

She shrugged and propped her elbow on the log, resting her head on her fist. “It wasn’t quite that straightforward, but yeah, that’s more or less how it started.”

“Weird recruiting strategy.”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I told Red about them a while ago, and now he wants me to make them sometime, but I never knew the recipe. I was just in charge of selling them as quickly as I could throw them together. But I was thinking I might like to give it a shot at some point.”

She watched as he made the connection from their earlier exchange that evening. 

“And that’s what you guys were talking about earlier.”  

Tifa nodded, noting the hint of satisfaction in his voice as he realized why she’d told him the story.

“Just between us,” she leaned in, ensuring Red’s ears hadn’t picked up their conversation, but he was too busy with Yuffie and Aerith. “I think he was pretending to be too cool to ask before. I mentioned it a while ago, but this was the first time he’d brought it up.”

Cloud looked in Red’s direction and leaned in, too. “Damn. He’s gonna be devastated if he finds out you don’t think he’s cool anymore.”

“I think he’s plenty cool just how he is, thank you very much!” She lowered her voice again.  “Honestly, I don’t know how he kept the act going for so long. That had to be exhausting.”

“Maybe he just felt like he had to.”

“Well, I just hope he doesn’t feel like that anymore. Not with us, anyway.”

Cloud didn’t say anything to that and turned his attention to the roaring fire. She wondered if she’d said something wrong.

“Was it hard to sell a thousand a day?”

“What? Oh. It was pretty rough at first, but I picked it up soon enough,” she smiled. 

He shook his head and sighed. “Yeah, I’m not surprised.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “Like I said, once you’ve put your mind to something…”

She laughed. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he said bluntly. 

“I will!”

“Good.”

Tifa laughed, letting the chilly night breeze carry away the tension that’d clung to her for days. She thought he looked more relaxed, too.

They slipped into easy silence again, except for the crackling fire and their friends’ voices on the other side. 

“Are you feeling okay about tomorrow?” He asked quietly. 

Tifa didn’t want to think about what was on the other side of their flight the next day, but as the hours slipped by, it became more and more difficult to ignore.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine!” she said too loudly, too readily.

“Tifa.”

She looked down at her lap and sighed.

“I guess we don’t really have a choice, so it doesn’t matter.”

She risked a glance at him, and he was looking at her the way he had at her bedside days prior. She had to look away again just as quickly. He looked too much like the boy on the water tower that night all those years ago. Usually, that was a good and comforting thing, but now it was just a reminder of everything long gone and still to come. 

“Of course, it matters; what do you mean?”  He asked softly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Cid probably wouldn’t mind—“

She shook her head defiantly. 

“No. I’m not going to go and then not follow through. I need to see it for myself. I’ll be fine.” Cloud still looked unconvinced. “Thank you, though,” she added gently. 

He nodded. “Yeah. We’ll be okay. We won’t be alone this time.” 

Tifa didn’t know if he meant because they had each other or if he meant the rest of their group, but she appreciated the sentiment. 

“You’re right,” she said, stifling a yawn. 

“Getting tired?”

“Maybe a little”, she admitted. “Are you taking the first watch?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You need me to brew some coffee before I turn in?” 

He smiled and shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Well, you know where it is if you change your mind,” she said as she stood. She stretched and yawned again. 

He snorted, amused.“You better go, or you won’t make it to the tent.”

“I’m working on it,” she said over her shoulder as she headed in that direction. 

“G’night, Tifa.”

When he said her name like that, it was like a blanket that got a little warmer and softer each time he said it. It was a good thing, too, considering the chill she knew was just over the horizon.

Good night, Cloud.”

The following morning, as Mt. Nibel crawled into view of the Tiny Bronco ’s even tinier windows, Tifa began to wonder if she’d told Cloud the truth. As her heart sank in time with the plane’s declining altitude, she decided, come hell or high water, it didn’t matter. 

After all, she’d already put her mind to it.