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phoenix-downer · 7 months

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Every Moment Matters

Every Moment Matters: ~2120 words. As Tifa grapples with her grief over Aerith's death, she imagines what she would say to her friend if she could talk to her one more time. But in her half-awake, half-asleep state, she begins to wonder if perhaps she really is speaking to her friend.

Story Info: Gen with a focus on Tifa and Aerith's friendship. Borrows elements from the FFVII Remake Continuity and set post FFVII-Remake, assuming the story hits the same overall plot points as the original. Tifa POV. Grief, Mourning, Angst, Dreams, Friendship.

Tifa had always wanted an older sister. Someone she could confide in and look up to. Someone who would understand what it was like to grow up in her town and family and who would laugh at her inside jokes. Someone who would always have her back no matter what, who she could always count on in a pinch. Of course, Tifa was an only child and an orphan now on top of that, as she didn’t have any blood relatives left. Her dreams of family were nothing more than the sad musings of a woman who had lost her home years ago.

And yet, Aerith was like that sister she’d always longed for. Older and confident, outgoing and bubbly to Tifa’s introverted, shy self. They complemented each other perfectly in their hobbled-together adoptive family. Even their fighting styles fit like a glove, Aerith’s sweeping magic doing damage from afar as Tifa rushed in for a flurry of physical blows.

And it wasn’t just that. Tifa had opened up to Aerith about things she hadn’t told anyone else before. She just instinctively knew that Aerith was safe, that Aerith was to be trusted. And so the things she kept locked deep inside came out more easily, and Aerith treated them with the utmost care and respect. Aerith had confided things to her too, about her mother and her past. About Zack. For someone with so much loss in her life, Aerith had a lot of joy, and she helped Tifa see the good in things too.

That didn’t mean their relationship was perfect. Far from it. Just like blood sisters, there were the rivalries and jealousies, the insecurities and uncertainties. Moments when Tifa couldn’t help but be hurt or frustrated or question whether Aerith thought she was just a pest or an annoyance or an obstacle. Instances when Tifa envied Aerith’s bond with Cloud and how easily she shared what was on her heart without hesitation.

But none of that mattered in the end. All that mattered was that they loved each other. Nothing puts life into such crystal clear perspective as death, and each tear that dripped down Tifa’s face was evidence of how much Aerith meant to her. Funny how it took Aerith dying for Tifa to fully realize just how deeply she cared for her friend.

She rolled over on her side and silently wept as she pulled the checkered blanket closer, shivering a little. Even with the glowing embers in the hotel room’s sole fireplace, it was still cold. But adding more firewood might wake the others, and she didn’t want to disturb them because it was still dark outside. Gentle snow fell in icy flakes, carpeting the world in white and muffling all noises outdoors while amplifying the sounds inside. But despite her best efforts, she couldn’t fully stop the tears. During the day she could distract herself, but at night there was no escaping her grief.

Aerith was so young. So healthy. It wasn’t fair. She had so much life ahead of her, so much she wanted to see and do. She lived each day to the fullest, inspiring them all to do the same. Every day was an adventure with her, and no moment was too small to treasure and appreciate. Aerith’s death made Tifa feel like she’d been robbed. Like all the future moments she should’ve had with Aerith had been yanked suddenly and violently out of her hands. In their place was a bloodied, mangled mess and an empty future that stretched out endlessly before her. The thought of living the rest of her life without Aerith made her feel like one of those waves back at Costa del Sol kept engulfing her and crushing her under its weight.

If only Tifa had stopped Aerith from running off on her own. If only Tifa had noticed Sephiroth before it was too late. If only Tifa were as good a white mage as Aerith was, then, maybe, she might’ve been able to heal her friend before it was too late.

If only, if only, if only. It didn’t matter how illogical Tifa’s guilt was. It persisted all the same, haunting her and tormenting her and never giving her a moment’s peace. Of course, in her more rational moments, Tifa knew that Aerith was always going to do whatever she wanted; she was stubborn and strong-willed, and that was one of the things Tifa loved about her. Sephiroth would’ve found some other time to kill Aerith if not at the Forbidden City; he was a super soldier and out for her blood. And some wounds just couldn’t be healed, even with the strongest of white magic.

Tifa knew all of these things, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to let go of the knife in her hand and kept stabbing herself in the heart with it instead. That was the only thing that felt close to atoning for Aerith’s death. For making up for her failure to save her friend.

Aerith was the important one. She was the last Cetra, the one who could save us all. And now she’s dead. Fresh tears welled up in Tifa’s eyes. I wish it were me instead. Aerith would live her life so much better than I would. Her life was so much more valuable than mine—

The moment she had that thought, she imagined Aerith scowling at her, hands on her hips and green eyes flashing.

“Tifa Lockhart, don’t you dare say that crap about yourself!” she could almost hear Aerith say, her tone scolding yet loving at the same time. “Your life is just as precious as mine, and just because I’m dead doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to live.” Aerith’s expression softened. “I want you to live, okay?”

But Tifa wasn’t sure she wanted to. Yet another person had been torn from her life, and she wished with all her heart that it had been her instead. Her mother, her father, Jessie, Biggs, Wedge, and now Aerith, too. What she wouldn’t give to have them all back. They deserved to live. She didn’t.

Why am I always the one who survives? Why does everyone I love always die? As her breath came out in warm puffs of steam, a dark thought entered her mind. Do I bring death to the people around me? Am I some kind of angel of death? Did my jealousy and envy kill Aerith?

“No,” came Aerith’s voice again, firm but gentle. “Sephiroth killed me, not you. And jealousy is only human. I was jealous of you too, you know.” She could almost picture Aerith’s rueful smile. “It all seems so silly in hindsight, but it is what it is. I’m not some perfect saint, so please don’t remember me that way. I want to be remembered as I was. Fully myself and fully flawed and fully human.”

A deep pang coursed through Tifa. It was all too easy to make a saint out of someone who had died young and tragically, but was that truly honoring the deceased’s memory? Or was it better to remember the person as they really were, flaws and all?

Still, it was hard not to worry that in some way her jealousy had led to Aerith’s death somehow. That she hadn’t made the most of the time she had with Aerith because of it. She glanced worriedly at Cloud, who was fast asleep on the bed next to hers. What if I lose Cloud too?

“You won’t. You bring life and healing, Tifa. Your name even means miracles and compassion. You’ll live up to your name.”

It doesn’t matter what my name is. I haven’t stopped a single person I love from dying, Tifa thought bitterly to her mental version of Aerith. I couldn’t stop you from dying, she admitted to her friend, trying to put into words all the guilt and shame she’d felt since Aerith’s death.

She could almost feel Aerith’s hand gently stroking her hair and resting a hand on her cheek in the same way she’d done for Aerith before running away sobbing. As if Aerith knew what Tifa had done for her and wanted to repay the heartfelt gesture in kind.

“My time on this Planet was through,” came Aerith’s voice at last, “but that wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could have done. Please, don’t blame yourself.”

This illusion of Aerith was much kinder to Tifa than Tifa was to herself. Tifa was starting to wonder if it really might be Aerith in some strange way. Or maybe her memories of the sister she wished she had were just that strong.

I wish I could believe that, she told Aerith, but no matter what I do, the guilt remains.

“I know. But there are people who still love you in the land of the living. If you can’t live for yourself, live for them for now until you can live for yourself again. And when the time is right, I’ll see you again in the Promised Land. This separation won’t last forever, Tifa. I promise.”

At this Aerith clasped her hands. A prayer was never too far from her lips, even in death. “Until then, please live your life with the people you love while you still can. Every moment matters, and I want you to make the most of each one you have left.”

She smiled at Tifa, a beautiful, bittersweet smile, and with that, she was gone. Only silence remained. Tifa’s heart already ached for her to return, but she was grateful she’d had these few moments with her. This brief conversation that defied all rational explanation.

A few final tears dripped down her cheeks, and at last her eyelids fluttered shut. She’d been flickering at the edge of consciousness this entire time, and sleep was overtaking her once more.

When Tifa awoke, she sat up and stretched. Light streamed through the windows, and Cloud and Barret and the others must be downstairs getting food because she had the room all to herself. Well, they did have a full day ahead of them, so a hearty breakfast was in order. She needed to get bundled up in the winter gear she’d gotten yesterday so she could join them, and—

She paused, her hand mid-way to grabbing her fuzzy red sweater. Aerith. Had she spoken to Aerith? She had faint, foggy memories of doing just that in the early hours of the morning.

But Aerith was dead. Talking to her would be impossible, right? Maybe it was all just in her head. And yet…it had felt so real. She couldn’t remember much of the details, just a few specific phrases and feelings.

She pulled the sweater over her head. What if Aerith were haunting them all like a ghost? A shiver went down Tifa’s spine. Tifa hated ghosts, and even the ghost of a beloved friend and sister-in-arms might be too much to handle. And yet…Aerith’s presence hadn’t made her feel scared or unnerved. Just safe and comforted.

She brushed a hand through her now-staticky hair, and her breath caught as she remembered a flickering impression, a moment when Aerith had gently stroked her hair and touched her cheek. Surely she hadn’t imagined that.

“Aerith, I wish you were still here with us in the physical realm,” Tifa said sadly as she pulled on her thick woolen socks. “I miss you so much. But whatever happened this morning…thank you.”

She could almost picture Aerith’s smiling face in her mind. As if her friend were telling her to finish getting ready and go join the others and live her life, one moment at a time. So she did just that. She finished getting ready and took the big wooden stairs covered in plush green carpet two at a time, wishing that Aerith were here to race her but happy that she knew Aerith well enough to know Aerith would want to race her.

There were so many nuances and quirks and tics and habits that made Aerith Aerith. Tears welled up in Tifa’s eyes again, but she didn’t try to hide them this time. The tears were just a sign of how much she loved Aerith. Little things like racing down stairs wouldn’t remind her of Aerith if Aerith hadn’t so thoroughly made herself at home in Tifa’s life that her absence was sorely felt and her presence was sorely missed.

And so long as Tifa didn’t forget Aerith, so long as she kept the sad memories and the happy ones alive, the silly ones and the serious ones, the funny ones and the heartwarming ones, a part of Aerith would live on in this world.

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A/N: This story is dedicated to all my readers who have lost a loved one. My heart goes out to you, and while nothing can ever make up for the loss, I hope you can find ways to honor your loved one and keep putting one foot in front of the other, one day, one hour, one moment at a time.

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