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notimeliketoday · 6 days

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I'll just add some things and may contradict some along the way. I am a bit wary talking about this subject because I still remember my stupid ramblings about this triangle a long time ago. But now I'm also more sure of my observation about this topic after years and after reading other people's observations as well as watching their scenes again.

I'd say that aside from what you stated, Lucrecia's guilt is very much a factor of what drove her to push Vincent away. We'd also been shown she deeply regretted doing so.

"...I pushed you away but... now I realize.... I don't want to lose you."

I'll backtrack a bit. It's true that him being Grimoire's son is what caught her attention, but we are also shown that from the very beginning Lucrecia was uncomfortable of seeing Grimoire's *son*.

(I emphasize the *son* because eventually, there will be a separation between Vincent her bodyguard and Vincent the son of Grimoire.)

Let's recap her very first inner monologue:

"No. Why would they send... his son?" To Vincent's surprised "Excuse me?"

She wasn't happy to know her new bodyguard is the son of her departed mentor and colleague, a reminder of the guilt she felt for causing his death.

From their first meeting, Lucrecia associated her feelings of guilt towards Grimoire on *Vincent the son*.

"You had his eyes..... I didn't.... I didn't want to remember.... (I didn't want to face the truth)..."

I believe this refers to when she first met him and her feelings on it, with the rest describing how it changed eventually until the present.

But she tried to separate him from her own conflicted feelings of his father and the circumstances of his death and said guilt. It's why she pointedly got close to him despite her reservations.

She tried to look past the physical similarities and even brings up Vincent's duty as her bodyguard as a stark contrast to his scientist father just to bring the point home. She began associating some of the positive aspects of Grimoire she loved to Vincent her bodyguard who shares the same traits. The supportive confidant and the one who gave her the respect she craves the most. It's for this reason she began to feel affection for Vincent.

She came to love bodyguard!Vincent, her comfortable companion who filled her emotional needs. But she didn't like Vincent, Grimoire's son.

That she loved him in spite of, and not for, his connection to her departed mentor.

For a time it pacified her and I really believe she would've wanted it to remain that way. She kept her past with Grimoire a secret just to keep Vincent in the dark so as to enjoy his company without reserve.

Still, it wasn't enough. Before long, it finally caught up with her when he discovered the truth about his father's death. That was the catalyst of her pushing him away because she is seeing Grimoire's son at that moment. Now she gets reminded of her mistake and culpability.

It certainly made things easier that Hojo is there and a viable other option for her.

He was her partner to all other aspects, overshadowing what Vincent could ever offer her. He understood her passion in a way only Grimoire did, that Vincent never would be able to.

However it doesn't mean she stopped loving Vincent after her marriage to Hojo. It was just tempered down with her newfound relationship (that satisfied her for a time) and her frustration that Vincent opposed her involvement in the Jenova Project.

So when Hojo killed Vincent, he also killed the love Lucrecia harbored for him. It is the one part of this triangle people gloss over when speaking of the whole thing.

It was the wake up call for her to see the other side of Hojo she loathes. For her to begin regretting their marriage. For her to hate him for making her go through the pain of losing a love one once more. Her catalyst to fully reciprocating Vincent's love this time.

Immediately after, we've seen the hostilities between husband and wife and never would it be repaired at all until Sephiroth's birth ultimately separated them for good.

At that point, it no longer mattered to Lucrecia whose son Vincent is while also have some closure on Grimoire's ghost. She's finally embraced her love for him, and freed it from the ghost holding it captive, and did her best to save him in the only way she knew how. I don't think it was meant to be an experiment like Hojo claimed. She attempted to restore his body back to working condition but couldn't stop the decay from progressing. It was only when she recalled back when he pointed out her experimentation on Chaos that she was forced to resort to it out of desperation.

"Born of the Lifestream.... Bringing it all together... Stopping the imminent decay of tissue.... But instead.... Born was... the chaos that took him.... away from me."

She is talking on how Chaos took Vincent away. There are no longer any other mentions of Grimoire, the only nod we got being:

"I've done it..... Never again."

"Vincent, do you know? Your eyes are exactly like your father's?"

"The materia... I found.. We found together."

She was no longer clinging to the pain of losing Grimoire and so can now talk about him tangentially in relation to his son. That the lose she's now feeling is her losing Vincent this time around.

Her fragmented lines included: "Vincent..." and "I loved..."

It's why we see her reminiscing their time under the tree that no longer exist. Their one special spot.

That the only losses she mentions later on are her son and Vincent. She moved on from Grimoire already.

It's not simply her preferring Hojo that prevented her from reciprocating Vincent's feelings nor is it because she doesn't love him at all.

It is that when she finally realize the full depths of her love for him and isolated it from the ghost of her guilt, it was already too late to do something about it.

That is the tragedy of their ill-fated romance.

I've talked about the Nibelheim Doom Triangle many times, but I'm not sure I've ever actually put into words why I believe Lucrecia made the choice she did, at least not in a public forum. Given that Vincent has reentered the public consciousness with Rebirth, it's probably a good time.

We are not going to subscribe to the statement in the Ultimania that Lucrecia married Hojo out of pity because nobody in the company respected his work the same way nobody respected her thesis, because that's not only entirely out of character, but goes directly against what actually happened. Hojo was the lead assistant on Project S, like Gillian was on Project G; Gast selected him, his ideas, his theories, as being the best option after Project G failed. No one else was given this opportunity. After Sephiroth was born, Hojo was then moved (with Lucrecia and Hollander, but not Gillian, who had left the company) to work on Project 0—Shinra's single most important attempt at forcing humanity to progress as a species. Hojo was respected, and Lucrecia may be callow but she's never been the kind of woman who would marry someone out of pity. With that out of the way, we can get into my take on her decision.

I want to be explicitly clear: I don't believe it has anything to do with how attractive Vincent is versus Hojo, and I don't believe that it should. Asserting that Vincent's level of attractiveness should have been the key deciding factor in Lucrecia's decision does a disservice to her depth of character. Period. That isn't even addressing the fact that we're comparing a man who is eternally twenty-seven years old and was in peak physical condition at the time of his death to a man who is in his early sixties and has clearly not taken particularly good care of himself. We've never actually seen what Hojo looked like when he was young, since SE only ever uses one model for him in all modern iterations, so this is a moot point.

That said, Vincent's appearance was a mitigating factor in Lucrecia's decision—and it worked in Hojo's favor, not Vincent's.

We're almost twenty years out since the release of Dirge of Cerberus, so I feel like I can confidently state that Lucrecia was almost certainly in love with Grimoire Valentine. It was unspoken, unrequited, and doomed from the start, but the affection she had for that man was every bit as intense as the affection Vincent had for her—in fact, on the official relationship chart, Lucrecia's feelings for Grimoire are described using the same word as Vincent's feelings for Lucrecia. This is a repeating pattern, and that's part of the tragedy. Lucrecia adored Grimoire for his intellect, his drive, his passion; Vincent adored Lucrecia for the same reasons. Vincent refers to her as "the beautiful Lucrecia," yes, but he also describes her as the woman he respected most.

Knowing that Lucrecia loved Grimoire makes sense of how she was so torn between Vincent and Hojo.

Vincent looked like his father, he had his eyes, his nose, his brow. He probably had a fair number of his mannerisms, body language inherited and learned via his upbringing. They probably spoke almost the same way, their voices were similar, they had the same stories and the same sense of humor and the same idiosyncracies. But Vincent wasn't his father—he wasn't even a scientist, he didn't have that academic drive that drew Lucrecia to Grimoire in the first place. He was younger than Lucrecia by a few months, he couldn't be her guide or her teacher, and while he'd been assigned to be her protector, it wasn't the same. It could never be the same.

Hojo, meanwhile, looked nothing like Grimoire. His dark eyes and wide mouth and narrow shoulders were nothing like the man Lucrecia loved and lost through her own mistakes. But his drive, his passion, his determination—my god, it was just like him. Hojo's single-minded certainty, his confidence in his own comprehension, his intellectual unquenchable thirst to understand those things beyond his reach, it was all the same. His body language was different, his speech patterns were different, his research itself was different—but not, it turns out, too different, as Grimoire is indicated to be the first Shinra scientist to propose using foreign material on a child in utero in an attempt to produce something in-between man and god that could be communicated with on a human level. This theory, found amongst Grimoire's body of research after his death, may have actually inspired the direction of the Jenova Project (after working on adults in the Howling Fang failed to produce a functional result), and is directly responsible for the creation of Nero.

Vincent would never do that. Grimoire wrote it down, so we can assume that he would have, if he'd had the chance. Hojo did.

Lucrecia may have seen Grimoire in Vincent with her eyes, but she saw him in Hojo with her mind, and that's the part of him that she loved. That's the kind of man that she loved. That's the part of Hojo that she loved.

Before long, I can't imagine she was seeing him as an echo of Grimoire. Hojo was so different, but he was exactly what she wanted, exactly the kind of man—she thought—with whom she could spend the rest of her life. Working side by side as equals, two scientific minds ready to change the world together in ways that they never could alone.

Vincent, though? Vincent looks so much like his father, Lucrecia never stopped seeing his ghost. Every time she looked Vincent in the eye, she saw his father. Every time he spoke, every time he moved, every time he laughed or grimaced or sighed, she saw his father. Even at the very end, when she believed she'd failed to save him and left him in that tank for Hojo to find, she didn't see Vincent, she didn't see Chaos. She saw Grimoire.

"Did you know your eyes are just like your father's?"

Lucrecia chose Hojo because she had so much love left in her, and the echoes of Grimoire she saw physically in Vincent weren't enough for that love to find a home in him.

Lucrecia chose Hojo because he was alive, and she was tired of loving a ghost.

#ff7 #dirge of cerberus #lucrecia crescent #vincent valentine #professor hojo #vincrecia #vincent x lucrecia

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notimeliketoday · 6 days

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Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 53-72

“I think that was when I began to change. I trained my body and became stronger. I had goals and structure. It felt like…I had my whole life sorted out.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” said Barret. “And nothing mattered other than that, right?”

“Hmm. Sorry, that’s not it. Everything mattered to me then. I got rid of my picky habits instead.”

“Oh…”

“Master Zangan used to go to Nibelheim once every two months after that. Sometimes it would be for a long period of time, sometimes not. The Calisthenics Club was still running, you see, so he would also help teach there. Hearing him praise the grandmothers made me so happy because it felt like I was being praised too.”

※

“Hmm...”

Zangan peered over her notes and let out a sigh. The notes were filled with questions she had jotted down while doing her individual training. At the very end she wrote down characteristics of each and every individual in the Calisthenics Club: This person had a bad left leg, or this one couldn’t raise her shoulder, or this one couldn’t lift with her back. She wrote their strong and weak points, stamina, family structures, and any sensitive topics not to bring up. Every little thing she noticed she jotted down, as well as countermeasures, exercises, and forms for them to focus on.

“This is exactly what Zangan-Ryu is about, Tifa.”

He happily returned the notes to her.

“Now then, is your father home?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Well, I’d like to pay him a visit and offer my greetings, if that’s all right.”

“All right.”

She wasn’t sure what his intentions were and felt a twinge of anxiety. But ever since she started training with him, the relationship between him and her father had improved. Certainly there wouldn’t be any problems. Brian Lockhart welcomed Zangan.

At first there were glimpses of animosity in Brian’s manner towards him, perhaps from seeing his daughter look up to someone other than himself. But now that he recognized how Zangan had helped her to grow in a healthy way, both physically and mentally, his attitude towards him completely changed.

“Mr. Lockhart, there’s something I’d like your help with, and that’s why I’m here. Of course, it’s about Tifa.”

Both father and daughter froze.

“She’s remarkably talented, and she continues to train day in and day out with great willpower. There are only a few students I expected to be able to do this without guidance or, I should say, without any supervision. That’s where Tifa comes in.”

Zangan fixed his gaze on her. She grew even more anxious.

“We’ll start on Volume 5 tomorrow.”

The heat rose to her face. It was time. Volume 4 would complete her basic training, and then she would begin on techniques to be used in a real-life fight.

“Okay!”

“Mr. Lockhart, I was wondering if I could appoint you to be her sparring partner? I mean her partner for mock battles. Because previously, you see, there was this young man who, due to my inadequate tutelage, chose to spar with monsters in the wild and lost his life in a rather unfortunate way. I don’t want that tragedy to repeat itself.”

“Master Zangan,” said her father with a baffled expression, “is this something an amateur such as myself is even capable of doing?”

“Well, there’s lots of work for the both of you until you get used to it.”

“Lots…”

“Having said that, holding back tends to injure both parties, the one hitting and the one receiving those hits. I’ll have you wear those whatchamacallit on your body to protect yourself. You’ll be fine! You can substitute whatever you have at home.”

After hearing Zangan’s response, her father glanced over at Tifa. She met him with a hopeful gaze.

“All right, I’ll do it. What do you need me to do?”

“Papa, thank you!” Tifa happily threw her arms around her father’s neck. It had been a while since she had done that.

Zangan taught both father and daughter the basic punches and kicks as well as defensive movements that were shown in Volume 5, and then left the village.

Brian Lockhart, who had always been dextrous and an absolute perfectionist, created an even better training gear than what Zangan had proposed. Using his gear, the two of them would do their workouts, performing mock battles at home or occasionally on Mt. Nibel where people seldom ventured.

The next time Zangan returned was three days before Tifa’s fifteenth birthday. With her Sensei watching and her father as her sparring partner, she demonstrated all the moves she had learned from the fifth volume. He pointed out and remedied some of her personal interpretations or any unwanted habits.

“Well then, would you like to fight one last battle with me today?”

“Sensei, are you saying you’re going to be my sparring partner?”

“Yes. I won’t wear any armor, and I won’t use my arms or legs. I will simply dodge your attacks and judge accordingly.”

“Sensei,” said her father. “Please use the protective gear. I won’t have you getting injured.”

Zangan roared with laughter at that. He held onto his stomach, and after having a good laugh, lightly jumped and landed behind her where he beckoned with his hand as if to taunt her. He seemed like a completely different person from before; his jaw upturned, he stared her down with such arrogance.

“You naive little country girl. Come on! Need someone to play with?”

She couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. Her emotions bubbled up violently.

“Tifa, calm down—”

Before her father could finish speaking, she charged at Zangan and threw a right punch. This running-and-punching technique was not mentioned in the Book of Secrets. She heard the sound of contact as Zangan absorbed her punch in his large hand.

“Just a scratch,” he sneered at her, jerking down her clenched fist before releasing his grip. Tifa staggered back and fell flat on the ground.

“Have you forgotten your retreating footwork? Volume 4, Step 3-3.”

Tifa gritted her teeth and rose to her feet. This time she brought both fists up to guard her face and steadily inched closer while spacing herself. Using the footwork she learned from Volume 4, Step 3-2, she circled clockwise around Zangan.

“Oh? Looking much better. What will you do next?”

As if confronting her directly, Zangan rotated in his spot. He kept his guard position with both hands up. She could not find any weak spots.

“Ahhh!” There was no chance of victory, yet she rushed at him anyway, swinging her fists. But not a single punch landed on Zangan in the end.

Zangan bowed toward Tifa who stood still, breathing heavily. However, she did not return his bow. So many questions were jumbled up inside her head.

Her father invited Zangan to dinner, which he happily accepted. Zangan devoured the food her father cooked and the muffins Tifa baked. He reluctantly accepted renumeration from her father as well.

“But I won’t need any further payments. I don’t charge any of my other students, you see. May I donate this to the organization that I belong to?”

“The money’s yours to spend however you like, but I’m very curious. What kind of organization is it?”

“One that works daily for the future of our children. You could say we’re volunteers. We simply call ourselves a liaison group or a network. Our activities branch out in so many directions that we have not yet settled on a name.”

“Sensei, Papa...”

The two adults turned to Tifa.

“Sensei, you’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, won’t you? There isn’t time. I understand your liaison group is important to you, but I need to know why none of my punches landed on you. Were you able to guess my next moves? If so, how did you know?”

Zangan watched Tifa, amused.

“I could tell you, but the answer is simple and obvious. Think about it some more and you’ll understand. I’m sure you’ll regret it if I just tell you.”

“No, it’s fine. Just tell me.”

“Wait a minute!” cut in her father. “So provoking her by calling her a country bumpkin and whatnot was all part of your strategy?”

“Hahaha! That’s absolutely right! Her anger caused blood to rush to her head, which was sure to make her forget half of what she learned.”

“Hearing you say something like that, when you’re someone I respect… The first thing I felt was shock, then hurt, and then sadness. The anger came after.”

Her comment was followed by a look of discomfort on Zangan’s face. “It was a strategy that lacked dignity. Don’t you dare try to copy me.”

“I won’t, I promise. But I wonder how I wasn’t able to get in even a single hit.”

Zangan cleared his throat and straightened himself in his seat.

“Your eyes. I could see your next move from the look in your eyes.”

“Ohh...”

As Tifa sat dumbfounded, her father cooed with admiration next to her.

“Ah, I keep going easy on my students!” laughed Zangan.

She was frustrated for having chosen the shortcut to the answer, and it also irritated her that things turned out just as Zangan said.

“Tifa Lockhart, I’ll give you something nice to celebrate your birthday.”

He twisted around in his seat, and from behind his chair pulled out a cord from a leather backpack which was his traveling things. The cord appeared to be made of leather that was of a matching color.

“This cord may come in handy when traveling. You can come up with so many uses. Just by your imagination. Perhaps it can even turn into a useful weapon. Here, give me your hand. Your left is fine.”

Tifa watched her teacher’s face. He nodded confidently. She nervously held out her left hand. Zangan’s large fingers moved skillfully, wrapping the cord around her wrist, loosely twisting it into a double layer, and then tied it in a loop to complete a simple cord bracelet.

“At the moment I taunted you, caught your fist and dodged all of your attacks, you let your emotions consume you. Not only did you forget the fruit of your labors, but you forgot your manners too. Now it’s okay to be angry. Anger can be a powerful force at times. However you must control it. Tifa, do remember who your arch-enemy is?”

“Myself…”

“Formidable, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“When you feel like you’re about to lose, look at your wrist. Touch the cord. I want you to remember today’s lesson.”

Tifa stared at the leather strap around her wrist and nodded.

“It’s nothing elegant, but you’ll just have to live with it. With more practice, you’ll soon find it unnecessary, and then you can take it off your wrist and transfer it into your mind.”

The next morning, Tifa and her father saw Zangan to the exit as he departed on his journey.

“Tifa, do you remember our conversation about eye contact?”

“Of course I do.”

“Your speed is the best of the best. If you can break that habit, I might not even be able to handle you completely.”

“Really?!”

“Well, it’s up to you. Alright, I’ll give you a goal.”

Zangan looked up at the sky.

“In half a year, I’ll conduct a test. If you can land one hit on me with your fist, I will let you hold the Menkyo Kaiden*.”

Menkyo Kaiden is a Japanese term meaning “license of total transmission”. It is a certificate that is granted by the Ryu, or other organization meaning that the recipient has learned everything that the organization or Ryu can teach, and is licensed to pass on all aspects of its training.

“Menkyo Kaiden?”

It sounded thrilling, but they had no idea what it meant. Father and daughter exchanged glances.

“I will teach you everything from the Zangan-Ryu, and together we’ll figure out your hand-to-hand fighting style.”

“Wow…”

“Amazing, I know. But it won’t come easy. Be very diligent.”

“I will!” replied both father and daughter. Her father had answered with boyish enthusiasm, happy as if the words were meant for him. He scratched his face, embarrassed. Zangan and Tifa burst out laughing at that. Soon her father joined in too.

Aiming for her test in half a year, she trained rigorously. But when summer was over, the time the Lockhart family could spend together was greatly reduced.

Monsters appeared more often on Mt. Nibel, and an investigation team had to be organized. Tifa’s father, who was a member of the village advisory board, took the initiative in joining the team. And because of that, there was a dramatic decrease in the time he could spend helping her with mock battles.

The villagers reported the unusual mountain activity to Shinra Company, but were only told to keep reporting to them on the variety of monsters they saw. Amidst the growing anxiety, they kept following Shinra’s instructions.

Soon there was a sighting of a dragon-type monster which had never been identified in Nibelheim before. Its presence instilled a heightened sense of urgency in the villagers. The Nibelheim Council, consisting of the village chief and his three advisors, decided to organize a Neighborhood Watch separate from the investigation team.

The group was to set up camp near the mountain gate and be in position to intercept the monsters coming down from the mountains. Of course, there was no guarantee that monsters would even take that route, especially the bug-like creature called ‘Insect Chimera’ that was known to have existed for a long time there. Though rarely encountered, there was a possibility that these could come flying from the sky, so armed Neighborhood Watches scattered around the village, observing the sky.

The landscape of the village had completely changed. Villagers were on constant alert day and night. It was especially exhausting for those in the Neighborhood Watch.

On September 18th, they switched from a volunteer system to a duty system. Any healthy male or female no younger than twenty years old would be required to join unless they had a valid excuse.

The next day, on the 19th, the first team was confronted by a humanoid monster at the outskirts of the village. This monster, reportedly walking on two legs with a silhouette similar to their own, stimulated people’s imagination.

What the hell was going on in the mountains? The Shinra facility was definitely behind it. In spite of Chief Zonder’s persistent demands there had been no movement, so it was fair to believe Shinra must have had some idea as to what was going on. And yet no news came down to the village.

Their frustration, spurred by distrust in Shinra Company, was about to explode.

Tifa joined the soup kitchen. Her job was to make meals for the Neighborhood Watch using the makeshift kitchen that was installed beneath the water tower. The village women took turns volunteering. She recognized a few familiar, elderly faces from the Calisthenics Club among them.

Work ended for her in the afternoon, and she got home to find her father was out. He had left her a farewell letter saying he was going to the village office, and stayed in the mountains throughout the whole night. It was around breakfast time when he returned home. It didn’t look like he got much sleep either, and he appeared to have lost weight. How long could they go on like this? She heard that some families were even planning to migrate away from the village.

For some time, she stayed cooped up in her room holding Maru in her arms and staring into space. She had so much free time on her hands.

Maru started nibbling on the leather cord on her left wrist.

“Maru, don’t!”

She placed him down on the floor and checked on her bracelet. It was fine. It hadn’t become frayed.

“I should tell myself that too.”

She rose and took a deep breath.

“Book of Secrets, Volume 2, No. 1-1-1,” she declared, rolled up her sleeves, and then began reviewing from the Book of Secrets.

Her father returned home when she was midway through Volume 4. She heard his footsteps continue up the stairs until there was a knock at her door.

“I know you’re in there. Come out for a sec.”

She did as she was told, and opened to find her father clutching a large paper box which he nudged into her arms.

“You remember Grandma Margot, don’t you? These are her daughter Jasmine’s clothes from when Jasmine was younger.”

“She’s letting me have them?”

“Yeah, she said the size should fit you. Jasmine was my childhood friend. When I looked inside the box, nostalgia hit me and it made me dizzy. She was so full of life. When she was around, everything around her suddenly became bright.”

“Hmm. Alright, I’ll take a look then.”

“Yeah. If you find something you like, wear it for Margot to see. She’s been feeling a little emotional with everything going on.”

“Okay, I will. But Papa… are you getting enough sleep?”

“Oh, there’s one more thing. I’ll tell you the news and then you should go to bed. The day after tomorrow is the 22nd, and that’s when Shinra’s investigation party is coming. Seems like our report on the humanoid monsters got their attention. I bet Soldier will be coming too.”

The moment she heard the word “Soldier”, the few memories she had with Cloud Strife came flooding back. He never contacted her after they parted ways two years ago. Not knowing how to handle her growing feelings for him, she had tried to seal them away.

She realized her face had turned red, panicked, and then shut the door on her father.

“Tifa?!”

“Oh! I’m so sorry!”

She tossed and turned all night. When she counted them again, her memories with Cloud were so surprisingly few that others might find it hard to believe that they grew up as next-door neighbors. But because of that, each memory stood out more vividly to her. Something to look at over and over again and then gently put back so that the shape doesn’t change.

But there was one memory in particular from her “collection” that remained blurry and invisible. The incident she got into when she was eight years old.

“Beyond Mt. Nibel is the Land of the Dead” was an old saying in the village. Tifa, who was in great turmoil over her mother’s death, clung to those words as she went into the mountains. She wanted to see her mother.

Emilio and the others went with her but, on the way, as it became stormy, they sensed danger and went back down the mountain. Of course they tried to take Tifa back with them, but Cloud Strife showed up and lured her with him, and the two of them disappeared deep into the mountains. What happened after was that the two of them slipped and fell off the mountain. Cloud got away with only scraped knees, but Tifa struck her head and lost consciousness for a week.

Emilio and his friends who came down first made a report. It spread around the village and Cloud admitted it had happened, but never made it clear why he behaved the way he did. When asked, she heard he’d only answer, "Just because."

Tifa couldn’t remember anything, but she was aware that she had caused it so she apologized. Since it happened immediately following her mother’s death, everyone sympathized with her, but Cloud ended up getting all the blame. They dismissed the fact that Tifa was mostly unharmed when she regained consciousness. For them, the week that passed by slowly when she was lying unconscious was engraved in their minds. Everyone began to think of it as an incident, not an accident, so it must have made Cloud and Claudia Strife feel small. Not much had changed since then.

Tifa felt uncomfortable because up until then, their Gang of Four weren’t able to get close to Cloud, not even once. She never talked about it with him ever again. Since Cloud confessed to it, maybe things had happened just like Emilio said.

On the other hand, it also felt like Cloud was protecting her. Because of him, she managed to escape the blame. But there didn’t seem to be any reason for him to do that. She didn’t find his “just because” very convincing. She wondered if it was time to ask him—The next time they’d meet, she would ask. The opportunity might come sooner than later.

The following day, her father examined the cellphone that was on top of the table as he normally did, and then said to her with exhilaration, “Shinra’s already here.”

Whenever Shinra staff came to Nibelheim or Mt. Nibel the signal got stronger, so the villagers would be able to communicate with each other.

“I wonder if they’re going straight into the mountains.”

“No, they arrive tomorrow, and they’ll enter the mountains from the village. Zonder’s excited about throwing them a welcoming party. Maybe they’ll send some kind of advance team.”

When she finished her meal, she joined the morning soup kitchen. Many villagers already knew that Shinra was sending a full-blown investigation team. The taut thread of tension snapped, and the atmosphere relaxed.

After about three hours of preparing sandwiches for breakfast and lunch, the morning’s work was done. Next was making supper and dinner at 3pm. Until then, she had some spare time which she chose to spend at home.

She took a shower to get rid of the sweat from work, and then returning to her room, picked up her cellphone in her hand for the first time in a while. But she didn’t have anyone’s number who she wanted to talk to.

She suddenly noticed the box left on the floor, the one her father had brought. Looking inside, she saw many colorful clothes that were instant mood-boosters when worn.

“Hmm.”

She thought it would be fun. A dark brown vest and mini skirt caught her eye. It looked like something an active girl working in a farm would wear. After matching the outfit with a wide-brimmed hat and a pair of boots, she thought to herself that she looked pretty cute.

“I’ll go with this!” She felt brighter and lighter already.

Margot, who was the mother of the owner of those clothes, was there at the afternoon soup kitchen.

“Well, well, well...” Her voice broke with emotion as she drew closer. And then she said, “Let me give you a hug.”

“Huh?”

Margot suddenly took Tifa into her arms, and pressed her cheek against Tifa’s.

“I thought Jasmine had shown up. Well, well, well!”

Tifa didn’t know what to say. She didn’t expect the woman to be this happy. But it wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

“That girl hasn’t shown her face in years. Talk about being disobedient!”

Margot let Tifa go and promised to bring her more of Jasmine’s clothes. Seemed like she had more outfits like this one.

After a quick meeting, it was decided that meatball soup would be on the dinner menu. Tifa was placed in the group prepping the vegetables. As she was chopping various vegetables, she heard a voice next to her say, “Oh my, how cute!”

Glancing over she saw Claudia Strife.

“I got this outfit from Grandma Margot. They belonged to Jasmine.”

“I knew I saw those clothes before. I wonder how Jasmine’s doing?”

“How is Cloud doing?” asked Tifa. She was surprised at herself. Her heart was beating fast. But that was the first question that popped into her head the moment she saw Claudia’s face.

“Yeah, I think he’s doing okay.”

“Is Cloud already in the mountains?”

“Huh?”

“I heard that the people Shinra sent are from Soldier. Since our signals got stronger, they think they’re coming to the mountains. I thought maybe Cloud would be with them.”

Claudia stared at Tifa with a puzzled look, and then finally said, “I didn’t hear anything about that. But even if he was coming, that boy won’t say a word. Not because he wants to surprise me or anything, but he just can’t be bothered.” Claudia chuckled. “The only time he contacted me was right after he left when he sent a letter saying that he officially enlisted.

“Really?! So then...you don’t know if he made it to Soldier or not?”

“No. But, why do you mention Soldier?”

Tifa realized the reason why they couldn’t understand each other.

“Because Cloud told me he wanted to join Soldier… Was I wrong?”

“Oh? So he told you that, did he?”

Claudia repeatedly said “huh” as she chopped the vegetables. Afterwards, the two lined up to cook. There were times she noticed Claudia looked like she was about to say something to her but held her tongue. At least that’s what Tifa noticed. Maybe she wanted to talk about the disaster incident. But Tifa didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. That’s why she was relieved when Mark Banner called to her.

“Hey, Tifa!”

Mark was the youngest member of the Calisthenics Club, but he was still much older than her father and a bit of a show-off.

“Is that white cat with the red scarf yours?”

“Yeah, his name is Maru. He has a red cloth around his neck.”

“I saw him hanging around the mountain gate.” Mark Banner wiped the sweat off his face. “But if he goes in the mountains, just give up on him, you hear? Things are bad there now.”

With that said, he went away. Tifa interrupted Claudia and took off from work.

“Not in the mountains!” She heard Claudia shouting at her back as she ran.

Without turning around she answered, “Okay!”

※

“I went looking for Maru and ended up going past the mountain gate and into the mountains. I mean, I was worried about the monsters, but I thought I knew how to deal with them. If one of those insect-types tried to attack me, I’d beat them up… I guess that’s how I felt.”

“So cool!” said Aerith in astonishment.

“No, I wasn’t. It was just overconfidence. Looking back I was pretty naive because I was met with serious trouble. The insect-type wasn’t the one I was familiar with, but some kind of enormous, mutated creature.”

“That ain’t good! So then what happened?”

“A lady from Shinra saved me. She was wearing a black suit.”

“Black suit? So a Turk?” said Aerith, surprised.

“Yeah. Come to think of it, she must have been. But she didn’t tell me her name in the end.”

“So it wasn’t Soldier that came but Turks? That’s not what we heard back in Kalm.”

“Well, I’m not sure what her motives were, but she said they were looking for a guide from Nibelheim, so I volunteered. This was communicated to our village chief and then it was decided that I would be Sephiroth’s guide. If I hadn’t run into her, things probably would have turned out differently.”

“It’s good to remember that Shinra Company still utilizes children who are barely of age,” said Red XIII.

“Why?”

“Because they’re ignorant of the world and easy to indoctrinate.”

“I wish I could go back in time to that day and tell this to myself who beamed with pride when they chose me.”

“What would you have done if you knew?” Aerith quietly asked.

Tifa wondered to herself. Maybe she would still have taken the offer because she wanted to be even just a little closer to Cloud. But she continued walking without answering. After walking for a while she suddenly remembered and glanced at Aerith. She felt Barret’s and Red XIII’s eyes on her.

“What happened after was just as Cloud had described back at Kalm. That’s the end of my Nibelheim story.”

The other three nodded silently, and then Aerith’s gaze drifted away from her own. When she looked over her shoulder, Cloud was there.

“What were you talking about?”

“My tea parties with Emilio and the others.”

Cloud looked off to the distance, and then scowled.

Novel by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by pekotranslates Proofread by Eerie

#tifa lockhart #traces of two pasts #ff7r #ffvii

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notimeliketoday · 6 days

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Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 40-52

Disclaimer: Also, I started this for fun so that my friends who don't have access can read it. I'm just another fan like you. With that said, I do try to be as faithful to the original source material as possible, and for those of you who can read Japanese, please support the author by buying his book.

Not everyone agreed with Chief Zonder's decision. The elderly—a major force in the village—began to make noise. They seemed to take a liking to Zangan's longevity exercises, and regretted not being able to memorize what was taught to them. They wanted someone to check if their poses were correct, and wished to learn the remaining exercises he was supposed to have taught them.

The village chief paid a visit at dinnertime.

"Hey, Tifa..." he said with a sullen expression. "Will you teach the old folks how to do Zangan's exercises properly?"

"Why Tifa?" her father asked. She just knew he would ask.

"Because Zangan named her. Told me that if we ever needed someone to mentor us, Tifa would be qualified. Said that she had the most controlled form* out of everyone who gathered there that day.

Kata, which means “form” in Japanese, is the term used to describe specific sequences of motion that are used to practice technique and execution in martial arts

It pleased her knowing that someone spoke of her like that when not in her presence, but it also caused her to be slightly embarrassed.

"Zonder, don't get my family involved."

"Aw, c'mon! I'm already in big trouble as it is. The old folks just won't let it go!"

"Hmph!" Brian Lockhart snorted. He enjoyed seeing the village chief squirm. She couldn't tell whether or not they actually got along with each other.

"Tifa, what do you think?"

"I'd just be teaching the elderly people those exercises, right? If that's all there is, then I'd like to try."

"Tifa..." her father began, but he swallowed back his complaint. He knew that it wasn't good for her to have too much time on her hands. "Well, if you're gonna do it, then do it right."

While preparing breakfast, Tifa heard a knock at the door, and opened to a woman’s face she barely recognized. It was an elderly woman called "Mon Amie" who was an aunt of sorts to Chief Zonder. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight that it looked like her eyes were being pulled straight up!

"Good morning to you. It's been a long time, Tifa. I heard that Zonder told you all about it. How about 2 gil per hour?"

"Sorry?" She had not heard about any renumeration.

"Well, you are thirteen now. Not a little girl anymore, so that doesn't cut it for you, eh? Alright then, how about 4 gil?"

"No, I don't want any money."

"That won't do. We are taking this very seriously, and you will be properly paid for your work."

No matter how much Zangan trusted her, would she really be up to the task? But, being able to earn her own money sounded very appealing, as if a whole new world had opened up to her.

Mon Amie took Tifa's silence as her wanting to bargain for higher wages.

"6 gil."

"Alright. 6 gil it is then."

"Brian never did leave the village. He wanted to keep Thea all to himself." Mon Amie suddenly brought up her parents during their exercise routine at the public square.

"Really?" said Tifa, adjusting Mon Amie's arm posture. She needed to get her to straighten her back and push out her chest a bit more for the desired result.

"She was quite the popular one, that child."

It wasn’t very pleasant hearing her mother being called "that child", yet Tifa encouraged her. Listening to the elderly tell old stories was a part of her job. The responsibility she felt from receiving wages tempered her patience.

"You should leave the village," said Mon Amie suddenly. "Doesn't it sound like fun going around to different places with Master Zangan?"

"It sure does."

"Alright, you don't have to play along with me. No need for you to learn things like that. Just think about it carefully, okay? Something needs to change for women here in Nibelheim."

Tifa silently nodded as she propped up Mon Amie's arm.

"There weren't any women around in my day who held this kind of thinking. But that Strife girl”—she was speaking of Cloud's mother—"tried to leave. Not sure if it's because she hated it here, or if she dreamed of going to the big city."

Mon Amie abruptly altered her pose, ruining her base form.

"To the traditional Nibelheim women, she seemed pretty unconventional. We all refused to accept her ways, but secretly felt the same. Even though we scolded her, deep down inside we were cheering her on. We even felt jealous of her for carving out her own path. Perhaps she changed something in us, little by little.”

Tifa lifted up Mon Amie's knee. "Up high like this. Thank you."

She supported Mon Amie as the woman’s body rocked back and forth.

"But Claudia remained in the village, didn't she?" said Tifa.

"Well, that’s because she fell in love. You see, a man traveled here. Claudia was helping out at the inn at the time. She must have been taken in by the outside air he brought with him. And he was a pretty fellow. I’m sure you see it when you look at Cloud. That boy got the best of both his parents!”

“Right…”

“But, just like the wind, he just couldn’t keep still. Not sure if Cloud learned how to walk yet, but around that time he told her he would go to the mountains, but never came back. They found his belongings though. His body probably got eaten by monsters. You were lucky you didn’t meet the same fate.”

Tifa braced herself. Was she going to bring up that incident?

“Cloud egging you on to climb Mt. Nibel… Maybe that was in his blood.”

Mon Amie’s body began to sway. Tifa had stopped holding onto her causing her to lose her balance. She couldn’t regain her footing in time, and fell flat down on her backside.

“Alright then," said Tifa. "Now let’s use the opposite leg. Please lift up your knee.”

Tifa held out a helping hand to her, but Mon Amie refused and got up on her own.

“Quite strict for a pretty face.”

“That’s because I get paid 6 gil to be.”

Before long, she became more attentive. She noticed Mon Amie lifting up her other knee, but it was at the wrong height again. While Tifa helped her to adjust, Mon Amie said, “You really don’t remember anything? You know, about that accident you got into?”

She was eight years old when she got into that accident on Mt. Nibel. Cloud was with her. The villagers chose to believe the story based on Emilio and the others’ testimonies, and nothing else could be said about it. Tifa really couldn't remember what happened.

"No, unfortunately not..."

Whether the elderly came to her for exercising or just to chat, it was tougher than she had imagined. Her father laughed at her and said he wouldn't have anything to do with them, even for 100 gil.

They never listened and were set in their ways, even the ones who kept away and smiled modestly at her. They just had a different view on things, and sulked if nobody paid them attention.

The topics they discussed also surprised Tifa, and sometimes hurt her too. She disliked whenever they brought up how her body looked so grown. There would be someone who sensed her discomfort or resentment, and would try to change the subject, but then it would turn into whom she should be with and things of that nature.

So, all things considered, Tifa preferred hearing them going on about herself rather than her father’s failed romances, or whom her mother used to hang out with before she got married to him. To the elderly townsfolk, her father and others his age were still “the village youth”.

After her day finished and she was about to go to sleep, she thought to herself that maybe there would be a time when she would be the one telling someone else about what happened today, or about some news she heard from another person. Telling the same stories over and over again, everyday just like the next, until she, herself, became just a relic of an era in village history.

※

“They confused me at first, but I got used to being around them, and then it wasn’t so bad anymore. That feeling of wanting someone to talk to—Everyone has that,” explained Tifa.

“So that’s where you learned to entertain guests? From spending your time talking to old folks?” asked Barret.

“Possibly. Maybe that did me good. More and more of the elderly signed up, and they started calling their morning gatherings the ‘Calisthenics Club’.”

“It’s like that at Seventh Heaven too,” said Barret with some intensity.

Aerith urged him to talk.

“It used to be just a small shop owned by this one gramps, but when Tifa started working there, the business picked up. Men crowded the place. Know what I mean, Red?”

“What I’m more interested in is what happened to Zangan afterward? I can sort of imagine based on your fighting style, Tifa...” said Red XIII.

“You’re right. There was a little more that happened before I got to where I'm at.”

※

A month passed after the start of the Calisthenics Club. All morning Tifa would teach the exercises and set aside time for her reading and arithmetic. The afternoon she'd go to the mountains and work hard towards building up her strength and stamina, and then would return home before sunset so her father wouldn’t worry. At night she would examine Zangan's writings and practice her form, reviewing the materials over and over again so as to not overlook anything.

One day, she received a letter from Emilio. He wrote about the fast-paced lifestyle in the big city, and told her about everything he found perplexing: arguments he had had with people, things he ate, the social inequality, and their differences in moral values.

“But whenever I get discouraged, it’s you I think about, Tifa, and then I imagine that day when I’ll come and get you. I'll write to you sometimes and teach you about the city, so you won't be so confused when that time comes.”

Who do you think you are? That's how she honestly felt reading the letter.

Zangan appeared, acting as if nothing had happened. He knocked on the door just in time to greet her father and asked for his permission to call Tifa out, and then led her to the river where they first met.

“Master Zangan, please let me be your student. I want to be stronger.”

“That’s exactly the answer I was looking for, but what’s the matter, Tifa? I sense your impatience. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“That’s not it!” she replied, but felt self-conscious. “No… It’s because I got that letter from my friend.”

“What kind of letter?”

“I think it’s because I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to lose to anyone who left the village.”

“Hmm. My hand-to-hand combat techniques are not meant to be used to make you feel superior to others.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. But the answer to that can only be found through diligent study. All right. I will acknowledge you if you pass my test.”

“Test?”

“Show me everything you’ve learned from Volume 1. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Tifa performed a sequence of forms from the physical training method.

“One more time, from the beginning.”

“Okay.”

This time Zangan interrupted with instructions.

"Check the book to see the direction your palms should be facing."

Tifa crouched down over the book and flipped through the pages. The form was wrong from the very start. Should have been above not below.

“I was wrong.”

“Try again.”

When she extended both hands and slightly shifted the direction of her palms, she felt a different set of muscles tingling.

“Everything from the Book of Secrets must be obeyed. Don’t try to interpret it another way or decide that your way is better. While disciplining your body, you must learn to be faithful to your decisions. If I take you in as my student, you will become stronger. So, you must cultivate your mind to control that power. The greater and stronger the power to handle, the greater the responsibility of its owner. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The second time around, Zangan pointed out any minor mistakes she made. Each time she would have to go back and confirm with the Book of Secrets before advancing, which made things take twice as long. Fatigue built up in her arms and legs.

“Alright, now relax and close your eyes. Focus your attention and check the condition of your body. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“My upper back… I wouldn’t say it hurts but it feels like it’s burning...”

She slipped her right hand underneath her left armpit until it touched the lower part of her shoulder blade. Digging her fingers into it felt good.

“Hmph!” Zangan gave a satisfying nod. “That’s your shoulder blade. What you’re pressing into is the trapezius muscle. Surrounding it is your deltoid, infraspinatus, psoas minor and other muscles. The second volume will teach you how to train each one of those muscles on your back,” he said, while holding out a booklet to her. It was Volume 2.

“If you want to live your life with pride then pay close attention to your back. Squeeze your shoulder blades together, chest out. Walking through life with a beautiful posture is also part of your training.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s get started. Well then, onto Volume 2, No. 2-1-1, scapular push-ups.”

Zangan immediately prostrated himself on the ground, and lowered his chest. Tifa hastened to follow his example.

“All you're doing is supporting your whole body with your arms. Concentrate on your shoulder blades. Rotate them outwards—protract, retract, protract.”

It was her first time experiencing those movements. How was she supposed to move to protract her shoulder blades? She couldn’t picture it in her mind. Glancing over at Zangan she noticed he was rotating his shoulders outward, something her cat, Maru, often did.

“You look like a cat,” she said.

“Right. There’s a lot we can learn from cats.”

She focused her attention on her scapula, going up and down, until the repetition of movements were drilled into her body. Zangan rose and watched over Tifa for some time before clearing his throat.

“Good!”

The movements were subtle but still made her perspire.

“That’s because the muscles across your back are wider. Moving them increases the blood flow and raises your temperature, so that’s why you’re working up a sweat.”

After completing Volume 2, Tifa was sweating profusely. She felt unthinkable pain throughout her whole back.

“Alright, any questions? If you do, now’s your chance.”

She wanted to say, yes, but nothing came to mind at the moment.

“If not, then we’ll move onto Volume 3.”

“Huh?” she couldn’t help but shout. Her whole body was screaming in pain. Zangan ignored her and continued.

“Volume 3 is for chest and abs. We’re going to train your front body. The pectoralis major muscle is roughly divided into three parts: upper, middle and lower. There are several different ways to effectively train it, but I’ll teach you the basic concepts.”

“Alright…”

“At your age, your overall motor skills are complete, and in that regard, you excel. You haven’t had any special training, have you? If so, then you must have been born with this. Treasure it.”

“I will.”

She felt energy pour into her body. Perhaps listening to Zangan talk with a relaxed mind helped her to recover from fatigue.

“After a while, we’ll concentrate on building your muscles. But you will not be using any equipment except your body. We won’t be using barbells or dumbbells until you’re much older. Besides, our Zangan-ryu hardly finds them necessary. That is because I prescribe individual fighting styles that suit each of my students. You don’t need arms built like logs or a bulky chest. What you need is to build up a fighting style that will utilize those reflexes, that body, and your speed. Well, what do you want to do? Shall we call it a day?”

“No. Please go on.”

She didn’t want to disappoint the first person who had managed to earn her respect.

“Yes, that’s the spirit! Alright. But we’ll stop here for today. Let’s call this current level of fatigue your limit. Keep it in mind. You have a long way before you can try to challenge that limit to surpass it. Continuity is more important now than ever.”

On their way back, a realization came over Tifa regarding Zangan’s test. It didn't annoy her. If her father tried to make her work like that she’d probably stop talking to him for three days in a row. With those thoughts in mind, she walked her teacher back to the inn.

“Say hello to your father for me.”

As she stood in front of her house she could smell the scent of spices in the air. Spices that her mother liked to use in her best recipe. It was her father’s favorite dish, but since Tifa didn’t really like it, it was hardly ever served at the dining table.

She opened the door and said, “I’m home.”

“Welcome back.” Her father, dressed in an apron, peeked out at her from the kitchen.

“This smell… Huh? Is it mom’s?”

“I was really craving it... Oh, but I made something else for you.”

She was filled with remorse. She didn’t like the way he looked or the tone of voice he used when trying to gauge her mood, but it was all her fault for making it that way.

Novel by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by pekotranslates

Proofread by Eerie

#ff7r #tifa lockhart #traces of two pasts #ffvii

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notimeliketoday · 7 days

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Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 25-39

She spent her time alone, reading books, sewing, and cooking, with no one else to talk to except her father. It didn’t take long for Tifa to grow accustomed to this life - she even enjoyed it.

She never knew the world could be so peaceful, which made her realize that maybe this was what Cloud liked. Maybe he liked being by himself and being alone didn’t make him feel lonely, and who was she to decide that he was ever unhappy? She was ashamed of those arrogant thoughts.

All he did was refuse to do things that he didn’t want to do, or that he found too bothersome. Compared to him, she was the exact opposite. If she had the strength to not care what others thought, how different would things be? It opened endless possibilities.

“Tifa,” her father called to her. “Maru’s gone missing again. Would you go look for him?”

“What, again?”

If left alone, she was sure one of their neighbors would feed him, or he’d go and hunt birds or other small prey on his own. She wondered how her father would feel if she told him, “Don’t worry, he’ll come back on his own.” She pictured his expression changing. What kind of an owner wouldn’t go out looking for their missing cat? What would the neighbors think of her? And wouldn’t she regret it if something bad happened to him?

“Maru, where are you?!”

It wasn’t easy trying to be like Cloud.

Maru didn’t seem to be anywhere in the village, so she decided to search near the mountains.

As she walked, gazing at the clouds floating above, she suddenly found herself at Gunsler River. There was a cool breeze. She realized, once again, that she was distracted from her search, so she turned to leave... But, fearing the possibility that he had fallen into the river, she glanced back.

“Huh?”

Among the familiar sights, she saw a strange figure – either a young man or an elderly person – standing upright in the middle of the raging currents. His body was massive, his bare shoulders broad, and he had arms thicker than any she had ever seen in her village. His hair was an intense silver and tied back in a long mane. Cloud also grew out his back hair, but this man’s hair was much longer than his.

The man braced himself against the currents so as to not get swept away. She remembered Emilio had fallen into this predicament once. The villagers had to gather all the rope they could find, and send out a boat to go and save him. It was decided then and there that no children under ten would be allowed near Gunsler River without an adult tagging along. During certain seasons, even the adults found it difficult to stand in the river.

She recalled the terrifying image of Emilio crying out for help.

“Are you okay? I’ll call someone for help!”

After calling out to him, she started running toward the village.

“There’s no need! Come look!” She heard the man’s voice from the river.

Tifa stopped in her tracks, and turned around to find him standing with one leg suspended in the air. He stood on his left foot, while his right leg stretched up, the toes reaching above his head.

The muddy stream split away into pools as it beat against his leg. Even without trying it herself, she knew that posture was difficult to maintain.

Next, just as his right leg looked like it was about to swiftly come down, he swerved into a jump so high that it seemed to reach the limits of what she could see. He then dashed along the rocks that appeared along the river surface, and with one last leap landed in front of Tifa.

He held out his massive hand toward her.

“I’m Rosha Zangan. Come on, shake my hand!”

Tifa was compelled to return his handshake.

“Ow!”

Zangan held her hand in a tight grip. Were grownups supposed to be like this?

“It hurts!”

“My apologies.”

Zangan quickly released his grip but then immediately seized both of her arms.

“Hoho!”

Tifa froze in fear. Was she possibly in danger?

“Calves are pretty nice too.”

No, this couldn’t be good!

“Please stop!” She was finally able to raise her voice. That fierce cry of protest made Zangan recoil from her, and she managed to wrestle free and make her escape.

Note: This is the first time I’ve ever seen Zangan’s full name. I’m not sure if the transliteration is correct. In Japanese it is spelled ローシャ・ザンガン, with other possible variations of ローシャ being Rocher, Rocha, and Rosya.

Once she got home she took a shower, trying to wash all of it away. A moment of relief came, and then her father returned home. He was holding Maru in his arms.

“Zonder was giving him food at the town hall. Had to give the man a few choice words.”

“But I’m glad we found him.”

She had no intention of reporting the incident with Zangan to her father. If she told him, there would be only one outcome, and that was being forbidden to go to the river.

“Oh, Tifa, by the way… There’s a famous martial arts teacher staying in our village. I heard he traveled around the world, acquiring all sorts of knowledge, and wants to teach us exercises for health and longevity. Sounds shady, doesn’t he? Guess he wants to show us these so-called exercises in the square tomorrow. How about we go and have a look together?”

“Alright. Let’s go see.”

She was convinced this “teacher” was the suspicious man at the river.

※

Nibelheim became restless with the arrival of the traveler. It was a different kind of excitement than when they heard the news on the radio or from the daily papers. Nearly all of the villagers gathered at the public square in front of the town hall.

Unsurprisingly, the village chief was amongst the crowd, proudly introducing everybody to Rosha Zangan.

"To the citizens of Nibelheim, I know your mornings are busy, so let me not waste anymore of your time! First, we will start with Zangan School's longevity exercises. I, Rosha Zangan, staked my life at devoting myself to learning the martial arts, and one of the things that formed the basis of my training were these longevity exercises. After acquiring it, you must practice day in and day out, and before you know it, your life span will have increased. Come! Let us live our fullest until the day we die!"

"Damn right!" interrupted the village chief with a loud, booming laugh. A few people responded with fake laughter.

"Now then, spread out your arms. Try not to bump into anything around you. Make room for yourself and settle into your positions.”

The villagers began to stir sluggishly. Zangan watched their actions and nodded over and over again in approval.

“Good friends of Nibelheim, you must first do this. Point your hands in the air, fingers up toward the sky. Both arms pressed against your ears. Palms, facing forward. Straight up! Stretch everything up until you can feel the tips of your fingers burning! Up, so the angels in heaven can reach down and seize you by the wrist! Stretch all the way up, until your body feels itself floating. Take your time… Yes, that’s it. When you’ve reached as far as you can, stand on your tiptoes!”

Zangan smiled and looked over at Tifa whose arms frantically shot up in the air. She stretched her entire body upwards, and went on her tiptoes as she pictured herself being pulled upwards.

The adults around her lost their balance. They faltered in their steps as they tried to regain their footing and had to start over. But despite her wobbly pose, and to her great surprise, Tifa maintained her balance. Zangan nodded at her in approval.

“When I count to ten, loosen up!” warned Zangan.

“Eight…Nine...Ten!”

The villagers tried to relax. Tifa heard people around her begin to make excuses for not being able to do it properly.

“Come on! One more time! If your body is shaky, then so is your heart! You’re wobbling all over the place!”

“That’s right!” answered the village chief, followed immediately by laughter from the other villagers.

When the villagers kept repeating the same mistakes they did at the start, Zangan made his way up to the central platform while keeping his eye on Tifa. He probably wanted to move to where he could get a better view.

It made her nervous, and she began to sway. Zangan smirked.

“Next, raise your arms up just like before. Arms pressed to the side of your ears. Then raise your right leg and bend it in a 90° angle. Got it?”

Zangan nimbly guided the villagers by his example.

“Now freeze! If you think about trying not to wobble, you’ll start losing your balance. Try picturing yourself turning into a statue. Having a good imagination can help discipline your body.”

Their eyes met again, and she sensed his approval.

“Alright now you’re going to stretch yourself up again. Feel yourself floating up just like that, to a faraway town, and then back to the village again. You’re visiting your friends in a faraway place. Whoa, you just scared the daylights outta them!”

Some villagers who lost their balance laughed it off. Many ended up crouched over on the ground, but Tifa remained standing on only her left foot, her body as still as a rock.

“Now what’s next? Slowly spread your arms out wide, even height with your shoulders.”

Tifa followed Zangan’s instructions. When she spread her arms out wide, she found that it was easier to maintain her balance.

“Imagine yourself carrying a pole on your shoulders. Helps you keep your balance, doesn’t it? But you’ll start to feel it in your arms soon. Find out what your limit is. One, two, three…”

Zangan counted slowly. Just as he said, her arms began to ache. She wondered why she was even doing all this? She could stop if she wanted to.

The surprising answer was that it came from the Nibelheim stubbornness. She did not want Zangan, of all people, to think of her as weak.

“Wow, Tifa. I’m seeing a new side of you,” her father said in admiration. He was nearby, still crouched over. But she dismissed his words.

Her eyes followed Zangan. He was going around the public square observing some of the children, approaching each one and while he held up their arms… She saw him feeling their upper arms! Then, he crouched down and poked at their calves.

Tifa recalled what happened to her yesterday. So he thought her calves were also nice?

“Oh!” She gasped aloud, shocked at her own thoughts. The words “slave trade”, which she heard somewhere before, suddenly came to mind.

What if he was trying to trick the kids with strong, sturdy legs - the ones who looked like they’d be hard-working - into going with him so that he could sell them off somewhere? She had heard that there were even orphanages in the city, which housed small children who were sold at a high price into the slave market. What if Zangan came from one of those places?

Her arms started to feel heavy, the muscles screaming in agony.

“Discipline comes from having a good imagination,” shouted Zangan.

Her entire body began to quake. No amount of discipline could help her keep her balance, and she faltered.

“Ugh!”

The moment her right foot touched the ground, she heard his deep voice.

“Alright, that’s far enough. Now raise your left leg, and same as before, bend it at a 90° angle.”

Not willing to follow the instructions of a human trafficker, Tifa crouched down. Zangan took notice but he overlooked it, continuing to give out instructions and constant directions to everyone else.

Some who failed mid-pose attempted again midway through. Despite needing break after break, even Tifa’s father kept at it.

Looking at the current circumstances, she would have regretted not stopping herself this time. Yet there was a power flowing from the words Zangan spoke as he guided them. The power to move people, and one that could withstand hardship. His voice was a kind she had never heard before, different from anyone else from her village.

When the villagers wanted to get someone to do something they would “ask” or “request” them to do it, and if that didn’t work they would get upset.

However, Zangan was different. He led them or even encouraged them. He couldn’t possibly be a human trafficker. She had been deluded by an imagination gone wrong, and almost missed out on learning about this new world.

Tifa stood up. There was still time.

“Well then, think you can handle what’s coming next? It’ll hurt!”

“Have mercy on us!” cried the village chief in a pitiful tone. Laughter spread across the square. Zangan grinned and glanced over at Tifa. He no longer looked like a human trafficker in her eyes.

“Cross both arms over your chest, right hand touching your left shoulder. Left hand touching your right shoulder. As you’re doing so, bend both knees and lower your waist. Don’t stick your butt out. Easy there. You’ll feel it in your thighs. Easy… Easy…”

Focus. Pay attention. Take it easy. How many times have those words been repeated?

The movements made her conscious of every muscle in her body.

“Alright, we’ll stop here for today. If possible, I’d suggest doing this once every other day. But I don’t mind if anyone wants to try this daily. Don’t even think about rushing yourself and using medicine. Today was a tough lesson. So for those of you whose legs are feeling pain, and also those of you with no backbone…”

“Nobody like that here!” jested the village chief to which cheers erupted.

“I won’t abandon any of you because that is not who I am. There will be a technique that fits your needs. Offer yourselves up until you find it. First of all, you need willpower and imagination. Those of you who have both of these things and wish to nurture it, let us meet here again tomorrow. Make the most of your encounters, and I wish you a better life!”

※

“But we didn’t meet the next day.”

“What?” said Aerith, surprised. She had her arms spread wide while listening to Tifa tell her story. “But I wanted to learn how to do it too!”

“I’ll teach you later.”

“Yes!”

“So then what happened?” Barret seemed interested.

“Right. Well, that night there was a gathering for only the adults. They swarmed around Master Zangan wanting to hear his stories. That’s when he started to criticize Shinra, saying that Shinra Company’s mako supremacy was the cause of the war; that they were originally an arms dealer and hadn’t stopped their developments, and were just exploiting the war, using it to test out their latest products.”

“It’s all damn true! That ain’t criticism, he was just telling it like it is!”

“Yeah. Even my dad complained about the way Shinra handled things sometimes, and our village chief blamed them over every inconvenience, but they couldn’t just nod and agree to everything an outsider was saying. Especially not a village that lived off Shinra’s paycheck. What if he was from Shinra and was trying to get them to talk?”

Aerith’s eyes widened. “So Zangan was a spy?”

“That’s not it. But I’m sure that thought must have crossed everyone’s minds. As a result, they decided to give him just the right amount of polite hospitality until they could send him off. Later on when I put everyone’s stories together, that was the idea they had.”

※

Before the break of dawn, she heard clicking noises at her window. Someone must be trying to call to her from outside. She couldn’t figure out who it was. Who would do such a thing? She was on the second floor.

Oh, yeah. It couldn’t be anyone else but him. She got up from her bed and opened the curtains. Sure enough, it was Zangan, gesturing for her to open her window. Tifa did so, but was nervous about her father finding out.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.”

“I’m sure you must have heard from your father that I was asked to leave before the break of dawn. There’s nothing I can do.”

Tifa nodded absentmindedly.

“There is something I would like to clear up. I am not a human trafficker.”

“Huh?”

“You youngsters mistook me for one, while the older folks think I’m a spy. Did I hit the mark? You did give me the most vicious stare.”

“I’m sorry.”

Zangan laughed at her apology, and then said, “Tifa Lockhart, since the very moment we met, did you not feel my intense gaze? I’ll be direct. Will you be my pupil? You have the qualities and the capability. Your qualities being those flexible limb muscles and your firm body. Your capabilities being that spirit of yours. The body needs good imagination for discipline, and good imagination is borne from a sincere heart.”

“How can you know what’s inside my heart?”

“Hmph! Do you remember when we met at the river?”

She couldn’t exactly call their meeting wonderful.

“Before you came along, many of your neighbors passed by and saw me, but the only one concerned enough to call out to me was you, Tifa. You were the only one.”

At that moment, he actually wasn’t in any trouble or danger. Tifa had been mistaken, and it made her awkward to be praised for having a good heart or capabilities based on that.

“Ah, dawn is approaching. I must pass on to you this book of secrets.”

Zangan pulled out a thin book he had concealed and held it up to Tifa.

“I staked my life on compiling the methods of basic training for the Zangan School of Martial arts in this very book. In this first volume, I’ve written a 12-step process that will teach you techniques on how to move and train your body. I’ve also included procedures on how to put these methods of training into practice. I will send the second and third installments at an appropriate time. And when you become an adult, I’m sure you will be a splendid martial arts master.”

“Martial arts master.…”

“Well, I can't say whether or not you’ll become a martial artist, but it will make you stronger. If you grow stronger, you will be able to defeat your arch-enemy. Moreover, gaining the will and drive to make yourself stronger is perhaps the only way for you to defeat your arch-enemy.”

“My arch-enemy? Who would that be?”

“You, yourself. Your own weaknesses. Now you’re at an age where you have some knowledge of yourself. Let’s see… For example, what if you were to think to yourself, ‘I hate my father, and grownups, and my friends make me mad too. Why can’t they understand me? I’m special, so naturally they should know how I feel.’ You may begin to look down on everyone around you.”

“...”

“Before placing others beneath you, it’s important to know yourself first. The best way of training in hand-to-hand combat is to face yourself. Because how can one place value on someone else without even knowing oneself? Without having a reference point on which to form your judgement, your standards for evaluation may change depending on your feelings, mood, or even the weather. From that place of ambiguity, it’s easy to misjudge society, no? My teachings can serve as a reference point for you. That is, for you to confront your old enemy, which is yourself, and come to know who you are. That is, you must learn from the Zangan School of Martial Arts.”

“Alright…”

She didn’t really understand, and it seemed like Zangan was just talking out of excitement.

"Is it my fault or yours that you do not understand the meaning of my words? To make the right judgment you must come to know yourself well."

"Is that so..."

"Well, to put it simply, exercise is not just for the body but for the mind as well. The Zangan School of Martial Arts will do amazing things to your mind. That's the gist of it at least."

Zangan gave her a broad smile.

“I won’t force you. If you don’t need them, then simply burn those documents.”

“You want me to burn them?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Well, that’s because they’re secret after all.”

※

“Hey…” Barret drew closer. “So what was written in that book of secrets?”

“I can’t tell anyone, not even you, Barret. It’s a secret.”

“When you meet the master, why don’t you apply?” teased Aerith.

“Hmph! I can already picture you two giggling the moment he turns me down.”

Suddenly Red XIII growled, the low bellow of a beast.

“What’s the matter, Red?”

“Please let me hear the rest of the story. And, Barret, stop interrupting her.”

#tifa lockhart #traces of two pasts #aerith gainsborough #ff7r #barret wallace #red xiii

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notimeliketoday · 7 days

Text

Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 01-24

Hello, this is @o4o4p_ from twitter. To make things easier to follow for people, I decided to post the translations of the ToTP Tifa's parts that I did.

[UPDATED ON 11/01/22]

Episode 1-Traces of Tifa-

Written by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by Peko & Eerie

The wind that blew across the meadow caressed her hair and stirred up memories in Tifa Lockhart of her hometown. The winds that descended from the slopes of Mt Nibel toward the village used to always whip up her hair into a mess.

"Hey, Tifa, you’re used to this?" said Aerith, pointing her finger towards the sweeping meadows of the Grasslands.

It hadn't been long since they met, yet Aerith felt like an old friend.

Tifa turned her back against another strong gust of wind that sprung forth, billowing over the grass. They had an unexpectedly long journey ahead of them.

"Used to what–grassy fields?" Tifa turned to find Aerith walking beside her.

"No, I mean walking like how we're walking now. Through grassy fields or wilderness."

"Hmm, well I don't dislike walking. It's a form of training."

"Uh-huh, so you’re that type. I get it."

"But I do prefer hiking in the mountains because I get to see the changing landscapes."

"Same! I always longed to go on picnics, but I'm so over this!"

"Well, this feels like hiking to me. Picnicking is more about the picnic baskets and just having fun."

"I see... So Tifa, have you ever gone picnicking?"

"Yeah.” She recalled her childhood in the village. "At least something like it. But I used to call it something else."

"What?”

Embarrassment flooded back to her along with memories of the events.

“Tea parties.”

“Hmph!” Red XIII sauntered past them with an amused snort. From his blazing red fur to his flaming tail, his physical appearance was, to say the least, that of a beast. Yet, there was a great disparity between his outward appearance and his inner intellect. Something Tifa still wasn’t accustomed to yet.

“What were your tea parties like? I want to know!” Aerith's eyes lit up.

“Sure!”

But where exactly should she begin?

※

Nibelheim was a small village located at the foot of Mount Nibel. Its history began as a base for people seeking rare animals and plants in the mountain. It was a village consisted of just a few households which provided beds and meals for mountain climbers.

Before long, Shinra in search of a base for its cutting-edge research, away from any possible interference from the Republic of Junon, set its sight on this land.

They discovered mako energy there the following year, in 1960, and began building a facility that would become known as the Shinra Mansion. This was followed by the construction of the Nibel mako reactor, which brought in workers from all over the country. These projects were completed in 1968 – at that time, the village was at its peak activity.

After the completion of the facility, only those contracted by Shinra Company remained to manage the facility. Eventually, the mako reactor got so old that it was nearly deactivated. With no industry to speak of, the population of the village dwindled. The only source of income for the village was paid by Shinra for use of the land and management of its facilities. The village's economy was supported by the aging facilities, which were no longer in use.

Things could not continue this way. But even though that thought weighed on everyone's mind, the voices full of apprehension about the future were carried off by the winds that blew from Mt Nibel and disappeared without a trace.

※

“There were four kids in the village who were the same age as me. All of them were boys. We used to play together so often that our parents called us the ‘Gang of Four.’ They were the members of my tea party,” said Tifa.

“Hmm, but if we’re counting you and those four boys you were with,” Aerith asked, “shouldn’t there have been five?”

“Well, one of them was Cloud. I wish he would just turn us down. But most of the time he'd ignore us which led to so many fights. They thought he was really a strange kid, that he was dangerous.”

Yes, it was that young Cloud Strife who would march on ahead of them as if he was the one in charge.

※

Tifa was born into the Lockhart family in 1987. Her father’s name was Brian, and her mother’s name, Thea.

However, eight years later, Thea passed away from her illness and ever since then Tifa had been raised by her father. The things he wasn’t comfortable teaching her, the women of the village gladly stepped in to help. They taught her everything from sewing to cooking, or any other skill they felt a daughter should learn from her mother.

Theirs was a village steeped in the old traditions of the Republic. Men worked outside while women maintained the household. There was a tendency for the people to think that a woman’s happiness depended on the man she would spend her life with.

Emilio, Lester, Taylor and Tifa had been together since infancy. They were the eldest in their families, and all their mothers were close. The four of them grew up playing together. But, ever since Tifa’s mother passed away and her circumstances had changed, everyone began treating her as that “poor little girl.”

When she turned ten years old, she noticed that the way her friends looked at her felt different from before, their gazes lingering with a budding awareness of her as a possible future life partner. This was followed by a persistence in the boys to insinuate their feelings and compete with one another for her affection.

Despite the weariness she felt over their advances, their schemes to buy time alone with her, she found it difficult to turn them down because she knew it would hurt their feelings. So, even though she didn’t mean to hurt anyone, she pretended not to pick up on their romantic cues, and if any one of the boys made his intentions too obvious, she would dodge him with some vague reply.

It wasn’t long after that the boys started talking about leaving town. The boys in Nibelheim were incensed with this talk. A successful career was waiting for them at Shinra! They were going to get rich in Midgar!

Each one held onto his own separate dream, yet the message she heard was the same. There were promises to provide for her, to protect her… The pretty picture they painted of their future with her wasn’t any different. To those boys, she stood as a symbol that they had succeeded in life, as a victory trophy.

On her twelfth birthday, her father gifted her a new pair of wedge sandals, which she put on and went out for a stroll. The sandals were the latest fashion from Midgar, but they certainly were not suitable for her usual village strolls.

As she scrutinized each of her steps, the village chief, Zonder, called her out.

“Why, if it isn’t Tifa Lockhart! Happy birthday! Our cat just gave birth to a litter, so how about taking one as a birthday gift? I already talked to Brian. Come on over and see for yourself!”

She had mentioned to her father of her desire to have a cat so many times before, and now her dream would finally come true!

Tifa followed Zonder to his home where she peeked into a wooden crate at the slumbering kittens. For a long time, she stood there and studied each one before she finally made her choice.

“That one? We call him Maru. Well, he’s going to be yours so of course you can name him anything you like, but I hope you will keep the name.”

On her way home, the kitten nearly bolted from her arms. Her frantic movements when trying to keep it from jumping made her lose her balance, and unable to brace herself in those stylish, city sandals, she took an awkward tumble on the ground while shielding the kitten.

※

Dr. Sanku diagnosed her with a sprained right ankle.

“My sandals were broken, and then the area where I had grazed my ankle got so infected, I ended up in bed with a fever for a week. What made it even worse was finding out Maru went missing because my dad accidentally left the door open.”

“Yikes! When it rains, it sure does pour, doesn’t it? Wait, so you did end up keeping the name Maru.”

“My father involved the whole village in search of that lost kitten. Our village chief must have told everyone my cat’s name by then, so everywhere people went they would call out for “Maru”. I know it sounds awful, but the cat and its name were two completely innocent things, you know.”

Note: Some people have mentioned that Maru, transliterated to English, sounds like the word “mal” in French, which means bad/evil.

After her fever subsided, family friends came to visit. The joy she felt was short-lived, and by the third day, Tifa had had enough.

“It’s too much trouble with people coming in and out every day, and I don’t think I can finish all the snacks they brought either.”

She needed time to be alone.

“Don’t say that,” said her father.

“Then can I go outside? I want to help look for Maru too, and the doctor said I should try walking, remember?”

“All right. You can go the day after tomorrow.”

“What about tomorrow? Please?”

“I have to go to the mountains. We’re behind on repairs on that pathway to the mako reactor.”

“I can do my walking exercises on my own. I promise I won’t go anywhere outside the village.”

Her father brooded over the thought. Tifa had an idea of what was going through her father's head - he probably felt hurt by her words. The idea of her not needing his help no doubt irritated him.

“All right. Now listen to me…”

What ensued was a long lecture on the dos and don’ts, and every single precaution under the sun. Tifa listened without protest.

The next morning, at the exact moment after her father had left for the mountains, as if waiting on cue, a visitor called on her. It was Cloud’s mother, Claudia Strife.

“I’m really sorry for coming so early in the morning, but I wanted to bring him to you.”

There was a kitten nestled in Claudia’s arms. It was Maru.

“Oh, thank you! Where did you find him?”

“Cloud found it yesterday, over at the mountain gate. I told him to bring the cat over to you right away, but that boy wouldn’t listen! So, here I am instead.”

Tifa thanked Claudia, and then took Maru upstairs with her to her bedroom.

“Welcome home, Maru. Never thought Cloud even knew about you.”

Now that she had no need to search for Maru, going outside no longer seemed appealing. Although she did bring up the topic of walking practice in earnest, the pain still lingered.

Emilio came over to visit then.

“Come on, time for exercise!” he said while raising a basket up to his chest. “I brought you tea and some fruits.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s try going down to the waterfall. At least there we’d still be honest if we tell him we were inside town limits.”

“Did my dad say something to you?”

“Yeah, he asked me to escort you during your walking exercises. Said for me to make sure you don’t leave the village. Stuff like that.”

Emilio seemed uneasy. He must have thought there was something special behind her father’s request for his help.

As she left the house accompanied by Emilio, they bumped into Lester. In his arms was, as she had expected, a basket. The fleeting look of dissatisfaction that crossed his face did not escape her notice.

Even though it was the village's fountainhead, everyone simply called the place they were headed to "The Waterfall"; it served as an outlet for collected water in Nibelheim.

The boys escorted her down to the waterfall's basin and helped to support her as she lumbered on her injured leg. When they arrived at their spot, Tifa noticed that Taylor was already there, looking for a dry place for them.

It was now apparent that her father had called all three of her friends.

“Since it’s almost time for lunch,” said Lester, “I brought some sandwiches. We made the ham ourselves!”

Emilio and Lester cheered. Taylor’s family’s ham recipe always turned out delicious. Even Tifa, who had been feeling gloomy, couldn’t help expressing her delight.

When the four of them gathered, the conversation usually turned to Midgar, the city of the boys’ dreams. There was a school in Midgar, and students had to study hard. The kids in the slum learned reading and writing from volunteers who came from Midgar. Perhaps their schooling was on the same level as the slum kids.

The shortcut to getting into Shinra Company from the slums was through Soldier, and they wondered how likely it was for a Soldier to die. They thought that money was the solution to every problem for people on the Plate. There were some facts, myths, and misunderstandings in their discussions, but the looks on their faces were serious.

For Tifa, Midgar became, in its own way, a subject of great interest to her. She couldn’t help thinking about this faraway world, this big city, with wonder and excitement.

“If you go and live in Midgar, would you ever want to come back here?” said Tifa.

“If I can’t adapt to city life, then there’d be no other choice.”

“I don’t want people here looking at me like I’m some loser, so if that ever happens, I’ll probably move to another city.”

“But if none of us come back, you’ll be lonely, won’t you, Tifa?” “Who knows?” she said. “You might even forget about me.”

Tifa felt embarrassed the moment the words left her mouth. It sounded like she was sulking, and sure enough, Emilio and the others started trying to cheer her up. As they left the water basin, the boys started talking over each other.

“The picnic was fun! Let’s do it again sometime!”

“You call that a picnic? We need to go out farther for that.”

“You can have picnics nearby. Don’t get it mixed up with hiking.”

“How about a tea party?” Tifa chimed in. “Tea parties seem so elegant and lovely.”

She recalled a photo of herself sitting on her mother’s knee while her mother sat at an outdoor tea table set up on a meadow, sipping tea with some of her wealthier relatives during the Republic Era. Her mother’s grandparents may have been in the photo too.

“Tea party? What’s that?”

“Well, if Tifa wants to do one, then I’ll be happy to!”

“Me too!”

The “tea parties” continued until the numbers of parties became less frequent, and then one by one the boys all left town.

※

“The boys kept talking about Midgar so much that eventually I looked to Midgar as my rival. I wanted to wear the latest fashion that the girls there wore, so I asked someone who was good at needlework to help me make them. And it had to be fabrics that we couldn’t get from our general store. I even learned how to bake sweets. Up until then, I don’t think I had ever tried to get any boy’s attention.”

“Making Midgar your rival, eh? I like that about you Tifa.” It was Barret Wallace, who they hadn’t noticed was right behind them.

The spring when her friends said they would be leaving town had arrived. Their time together was coming to an end. This premonition of things to come made her unexpectedly emotional.

Late that night, she set her mind to baking a cake. She wavered on whether she should bake cookies, but a cake just seemed so much more appropriate for the occasion and would make this Spring memorable for them.

She quickly checked the kitchen pantry, jotting down all the missing ingredients, and then dashed out to the General store which was owned by Emilio's family.

As she stood in the front of the store, she felt someone’s gaze on her back. She turned and saw Cloud Strife. Their eyes met.

Usually when that happened, he would look away and run off somewhere, but today Cloud seemed different. She saw his mouth move.

He said something but Tifa couldn’t hear it. She tilted her head to the side. The motion caused Cloud to dash over toward her, and she instinctively prepared to flee.

He stopped just as he was about to bump into her, and blurted out, “Midnight. At the Water Tower.”

“Okay.”

When he heard her response, Cloud took off running as if he was trying to evade her. He didn’t have to do that, she thought, since she, herself, was frantically running away from him to get home.

The ingredients! She forgot to buy the ingredients! Her father watched her with a puzzled expression, but she pretended to be upset over something to escape any questioning, and went to her room where she could compose herself.

Maru was on top of the bed, and she picked him up and held him in her arms as she sank to the floor. Her heart was beating wildly. No, it wasn’t just because she had been running.

When was the last time they spoke to each other? Yes, that’s right. Maru went missing several times after his first breakout when Cloud found him and gave him shelter. It happened so many times after that that Tifa realized, if left alone, he would come back on his own after a few days. But, still, whenever he went missing, she went out looking for him. She wasn't allowed to go outside much, but there were monsters roaming those mountains…

When she was at the mountain gate, searching for Maru and calling out his name, she saw Cloud walking down. He noticed her too but refused to look at her.

"I saw Maru. Right where you're about to step in," Cloud said, as he brushed past her.

“Thanks.”

Cloud headed back toward the village without stopping, but finally turned around and said to her, “Don’t you feed him? I saw him eat a bird.”

“I do!”

In an act of fierce protest, she stormed into the mountains, and sure enough there was Maru with his mouth covered in blood.

“When was that?”

Maru was on her lap. She petted him, and he purred with eyes half-closed from bliss.

When they were younger, she and Cloud used to play together a lot. Their houses were right next to each other, and it was easy to go back and forth.

“Cloud has such a beautiful face,” her mother once complimented him at the dining table. Did that happen when she was seven, or was it eight? For some reason that compliment made her feel happy and a bit shy.

Her mother had given her a knowing wink, which didn't escape her father's notice - he scowled at them. This moment became one memory she had of her family life before her mother passed away.

When did Cloud start to drift away from everyone? Did something happen between him and the other boys? What was clear in her mind was that it must have had something to do with that disaster incident that happened because of her mother’s death. But he stopped coming over to play even before then.

“I wonder why…”

Cradling Maru in her arms, she went over to her window, where she spotted the water tower in the middle of the village. If they meet there, everyone might see them. Oh, so that’s why he wanted to meet her at midnight. By then everyone would be asleep.

What time was midnight again? Twelve o’ clock at night, right? Did Cloud really trust that she’d be able to understand him just like that?

“Cloud is…Well, never mind.”

There was no point in playing guessing games now.

“Hey, what do you think I should wear?”

Maru was completely disinterested. He jumped out of her arms and strolled towards the bed.

There was a knock on her door, and she heard her father’s voice.

“Tifa?”

She opened the door, and saw him standing in the hallway, blinking sleepily.

“I’m going to bed early tonight. The repairs on the rope bridge have been giving us some trouble lately.”

“Okay, I understand. Please get some rest.”

“Oh.” He looked uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?”

“You were in a bad mood earlier.”

"When you say things like that, of course it puts me in a bad mood," laughed Tifa.

“Alright, I see.”

Her father laughed too. He told her good night, and then went back down to his bedroom.

As she was choosing what outfit to wear, the realization came to her that this would be the first time she would sneak outside at midnight behind her father’s back, and with, of all people, Cloud Strife! This night was special. Her spirit soared. Sleep was the last thing on her mind.

After she was dressed, Tifa glanced out the window. It was almost time. However, unlike how she had imagined it, there were many windows still lit up. No sight of Cloud anywhere near the water tower. She turned off her lights and went out.

Maru tried to follow her out, so she led him back to her room and closed the door behind her.

Leaning in close, she listened at her father's bedroom door. He was snoring peacefully. She tip-toed downstairs, careful with each and every step. After passing through the living room, she opened the entrance door.

The moment she stepped outside, she took a deep breath. The sky was filled with stars, stars that looked like they were falling down around her.

Was Cloud waiting for her on that water tower, thinking of her with special emotions, emotions that were more than a friendship? Would he confess those feelings to her? If that were the case, how would she respond?

Did she even like him?

She held a hand up to her heart and thought it over. Yes, there was no mistaking it. She liked him. However, this "fondness" she had for him was different from just wanting to spend time alone with him.

Cloud has such a beautiful face. She recalled her mother's words, and how her mother went on to say, "Well, I think he's even more beautiful than your great hero, Sephiroth."

Her mother compared Cloud to a Soldier from Shinra Company – who the youth in those days touted as the great hero, Sephiroth – as a way of complimenting Cloud. Tifa remembered thinking in her head at that time, "Oh, is he?"

Yes, the reason why her heart was racing now was because Cloud was unreachable, a thing of beauty. Like the stars.

"Thanks, Mom." She felt less nervous; her footsteps became lighter. She sprinted toward the water tower.

Cloud was already there. He sat on the scaffold, swinging his legs to and fro. The last time she came to the water tower, they were still small kids. What tone of voice should she use to talk to him? Well, normal is best. Wait, how did she normally sound?

"Thanks for waiting!"

Did that sound too fake?

The things Cloud told her at the water tower were nothing out of the ordinary. He told her he was going to leave town when spring came. That he was different from everyone else. All the boys said the same thing to her in the end. But even so, she wasn't disappointed.

Was it due to some sort of spell cast on her the night of the stars falling down? Or was it perhaps the sight of Cloud seeming slightly enthusiastic that she found so endearing? That promise she suggested they make was just a simple idea.

"Hey, promise me something. When you become famous, and if I'm ever trapped or in trouble, promise you'll come and save me."

Just a simple idea, yet the moment they exchanged words, it became an irreplaceable promise. And it was that night that also made her see Cloud, whom she adored, as an ordinary boy. Tifa fell in love with Cloud. It was the kind of "love" where she wanted to be with him. That was how she felt.

Just as the winds from Mt. Nibel lost its bite, her tea party friends departed on their journey. Emilio showed up the night before to tell her that he promised to come back for her, and then hopped onto the truck that transported equipment to repair the facility and left the village, leaning out the window and waving goodbye the whole way.

Meanwhile, a helicopter came for Lester and Taylor. It was a privilege reserved for candidates who enlisted with Shinra Company.

Lester said his farewell speech to her vigorously, and then just as vigorously pulled her into an embrace. Meanwhile, Taylor fidgeted behind him, without saying a word. Time was almost up, and Tifa reached over to hug him instead. Taylor must have resented Lester, who he had seen hugging other girls who came to send him off.

When the weather turned warm, Cloud also left the village. She heard he had hitched a ride on a Shinra Army truck that came late at night. Due to some issues with his paperwork, his enlistment got delayed, and the helicopter that was supposed to come get him was engaged elsewhere, in battle.

They didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to one another, to make plans to meet each other again, or even just to hug.

Her predictions were correct. Tifa chuckled to herself. She smiled, and then the tears fell.

As Nibelheim became shrouded in silence, Tifa turned thirteen years old. Her father threw her a grand celebration. But not a single birthday card came from any of the boys who left the village. Perhaps they were so busy with pursuing their new life that they had forgotten her. She chased away her loneliness with those thoughts.

※

“Hey, Tifa.” It was Barret calling her, looking worried.

“Hm?”

“You went quiet all of a sudden. What's gotten into you?”

“Oh, sorry. It‘s just...all these memories are coming back to me. Now where was I?”

“About Midgar being your rival.”

“Okay, then next up is the fateful encounter with my Master.”

#traces of two pasts #ff7r #tifa lockhart #cloud strife #barret wallace #red xiii #aerith gainsborough

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