The snow fell softly down from the sky. It had been falling, off and on, for the last two days. Even before this latest snowfall the ground had been covered by a blanket of white, the trees branches sagging under it's burden. The sun had just set below the mountains, their snow capped peaks forming a long line to the west and now the sky was darkening. Nestled deep in a valley overshadowed by those mountains twinkling lights began to appear in the windows of the houses of Icicle Inn.
Outside of those houses, just east of where the mountain dropped steeply into the area the villagers used for snowboarding two figures could be seen, running through the snow, a woman and a small child. The child was ahead, and struggling to stay that way, in spite of the fact that the foot and a half of snow on the ground nearly came up to her waist. It was obvious to anyone who might have been watching that the woman, following behind, could have caught up at any time if she so chose.
"I'm gonna getcha!"
Karisa turned around and, seeing her mother right behind her, let out a shriek and redoubled her efforts to get away.
Tifa suddenly lunged forward, her arms reaching out and brushing the back of her daughters coat as she fell into the snow. Karisa shrieked once again and ran on.
Tifa pulled herself up and took off once again in pursuit. It didn't take her to catch up with her daughter again. This time she grabbed hold of the little girl, tackling her and rolling over and over in the snow, finally coming to a stop with Karisa on top of her.
"I got you!"
She lifted Karisa up above her, then pulled her close, rubbing her cheek against her daughters while the child laughed in delight. Abruptly Tifa stood up, placing Karisa back down on her feet, then crouched down, scooping up some snow and packing it into a ball.
"Snowball fight!" she announced. She brought her hand back and tossed the ball at her daughter, who was standing right beside her. It hit the little girls coat and bounced off.
Karisa bent down and picked up the remains. She lifted her own arm and brought it forward, but the structural integrity of the ball had been weakened when it struck her, and Karisa did not know how to repack it. It broke apart as her arm came forward, the pieces rising above her head and breaking up, showering the young girl with flecks of snow.
Tifa laughed.
"Okay, maybe you're not quite ready for that yet," she said. She cocked her head to one side. "Hey, I got an idea, let's make snow angels."
"What's that mommy?" Karisa questioned.
"Angels in the snow," Tifa replied. "Lie down on your back."
Karisa just stood there. Tifa looked at her, then stepped over to her, lifting her up and plopping her down in the snow on her back.
"Now move you arms back and forth," Tifa explained.
Karisa obediently lifted her arms up in the air and back down again.
"No no, silly," Tifa interjected. "Back and forth, not up and down."
Karisa just looked at her once more.
Tifa let out a very heavy pretend sigh.
"Like this," she said. She lifted her arms out, then let herself fall backwards into the snow. She moved her arms back and forth a few times, then hopped back up again. Coming over to Karisa she picked the young girl up so she could see. In the snow in front of them was the snow angel outline Tifa had made. Karisa looked it over for a moment then turned her head toward her mother, her face suddenly serious.
"Is Unca Reno an angel now?" she asked.
Tifa fell silent, the smile fading from her lips, feeling her throat go dry as a wave of emotion swept over her at that simple question. She wasn't sure she could answer it. She pulled Karisa closer to her, until she felt the warmth of her daughter's cheek pressed against her own. Reno had saved Karisa, not once, but twice. He had given his life for her. Was that enough to pay for his sins? Was that enough for him to find redemption? She didn't know, but she'd like to think that it was.
It was all over now. Reno had died three months ago, and Sci Co was no more now as well. Word had gotten out that they had a cure for Meteor Fever and had been covering it up all this time, for years. The public outcry had been such that not even a company as powerful as Sci Co could withstand it. There had been congressional hearing and charges of corruption that not even Sci Co's friends in high places could prevent. The company had collapsed surprisingly quickly with the President apprehended as he was trying to leave the country. The cure had been analyzed and the formula uncovered, and was even now starting to be distributed to area hospitals by the health department.
It was Reno who had broken it open, who had noticed the picture of Jonathan in the Meteor Fever hospital ward and had gotten the truth from Brent. He hadn't only saved Karisa, but hundreds of other children as well. He was a genuine hero, and she knew if he was alive now, he wouldn't give a damn at all.
Tifa turned her head to the side, so Karisa could not see the single tear that rolled down her cheek.
"I don't know honey," she said softly. "I hope so."
She took a deep breath. The air was crisp and cold and clean. There was no taint of pollutants here as there had been in Junon. The mountains in the distance that were even now fading into the darkness made an infinitely more picturesque backdrop than the high rises and factories of the city she had left. She could breathe here, could feel the life of the planet. For the first time in a long time, she was content.
Reno had been right about that too. He'd told her that packing up and leaving Junon would be an easy thing to do. She thought she'd had a lot invested in Junon be she hadn't, and he had known that. She had found an opening at a martial arts school a week after coming here and now had a steady job. It didn't pay quite as much as what she had been doing in Junon but her expenses here were a lot less. She'd get by. Reno had been right about that, had been right about just about everything.
It was swiftly getting dark, and Tifa could feel the chill deepening the air. She turned her head, looking at the soft lights glowing on the houses of the town in front of her. They'd been out here long enough.
She lifted her gloved hand and wiped the tear away, then turned to her daughter and smiled as best she could.
"C'mon, let's go inside. I'll make you some hot chocolate!"
Martha ran the iron smoothly along the fabric on the ironing board in front of her then paused for a moment, setting the iron down and lifting her head. Even from the bedroom she had heard the first knock on their front door. She had ignored it, hoping Arthur would get it. He was getting old, well, neither of them were spring chickens anymore, and his hearing wasn't what it used to be, but it must have been louder in the living room where he was, loud enough for him to hear, certainly.
Or maybe not. Now the knock had come a second time, yet she heard no motion from the room of Arthur getting up to get it, as she would have if that was in fact what he was doing. There was nothing wrong with her hearing.
"There's someone at the door," she announced.
"What?"
"Someone's at the door," she said again. She'd been living with the man for over forty years now, she knew she had spoken loud enough for him to hear.
She went back to her ironing. At sixty seven, the aches and pains had long ago started to settle in. She had a bad hip, and Arthur's eyesight as well as his hearing was starting to fade, and he'd had to retire last year because of his bad back. Both their jobs had been blue collar, and they'd had to struggle all their lives, though they had been happy. They were very independent minded people and took great pride in looking after themselves but she was beginning to wonder how much longer they'd be able to continue doing that. They both had pensions but even so it was difficult, which was the reason they'd had to sell their home a few months ago and move into this apartment. Not only money but upkeep had been a problem for them. Most of the maintenance here was taken care of by the landlord, but even so, she had a feeling even this wasn't going to last more than a few years. God, she didn't want to end up in some nursing home.
The knocking on the door came to her again.
"Arthur!"
"What?"
"Didn't you hear me before when I said there was someone at the door?"
"Oh, um, you mean you want me to get it?"
She sighed.
"Yes please," she said, trying very hard to be patient.
"All right, all right."
She was in the middle of doing something. The ironing wasn't going to do itself. Arthur was sitting in the living room reading the paper. The least he could do was answer the door.
She heard the creaking of the armchair as Arthur rose. They had had that chair for what, twenty years now? It was Arthur's favorite, and he wouldn't dream of being parted from it, even though she thought of the thing as a ratty eyesore and would be more than happy to see it go. She had been hoping to 'lose' it in the move but the man had kept an eagle eye on it throughout it's transportation here. Oh well, it was just one more of the many quirks that came with living with the man.
She heard the door open, but didn't really pay attention after that, concentrating on her ironing. She didn't have much left, and hadn't wanted to be interrupted. She finished up the last of the garments, then set the iron down again, pulling the plug. As she straightened up again she heard the front door close.
When she entered the living room Arthur was once more ensconced in his comfy chair, the paper spread out in front of him.
"Who was it?" she inquired.
"Who was what?"
"At the door?"
"Oh that, just someone looking for some girl, girl by the name of Lockhunt, Lockhurt..."
"Lockheart?"
"Yeah, that's it," Arthur concurred, not looking up from his paper.
"That was the girl who used to live here," Martha stated. "Don't you remember the landlord mentioning her?"
"Oh yeah," Arthur replied. The way he said it made Martha think he didn't remember at all.
"Not sure I care for this place," Arthur spoke up.
"Why do you say that?" his wife asked.
"Didn't like the look of the guy. Hair all spiky and everything. Looked like some punk. We didn't have people like that back in the neighborhood where we used to live."
Martha nodded slowly. That was true, but what could they do? Arthur continued to study his paper, as if the conversation was over. Martha waited a moment then spoke again.
"So what did you tell him?"
"About what?"
"About the Lockheart girl."
"Oh that," Arthur replied, the paper cracking as he shifted it on his lap. He glanced up at Martha and shrugged. "I told him I'd never heard of her."
AUTHORS NOTES: Well, its finaly completed, and nearly rivaling the Mind Slayers in length. Even though I was a little slow with some of the chapters I have to admit I enjoyed writing this story immensely and thought it turned out very well. There are some things I'd like to comment about however.
I tried to give this story as realisitic a setting as I could. This was no fantasy story. It takes place in Junon, but except for a few references to the people and places in FFVII it could just as well have taken place in New York City. This was obviously deliberate and I kind of liked the setting so you may see future stories that are similarly placed.
Obviously Reno's death was the most controversial part of the story. I'm sure a lot of you were hoping that Tifa and Reno would end up together at the end. Jen and I had planned right from the start of the story for Reno to die. The thing is, my feeling was, and the way Reno was portrayed, was that Tifa and Reno could NEVER have any kind of permanent relationship. Reno was a rogue and a womanizer, and that aspect of him wasn't going to change. I didn't think it believable for him to suddenly settle down and become an upstanding family man. Given that, the only way the story could proceed was for one of them to die (and yes, having Tifa die and leaving Karisa in Reno's care raised some very interesting possibilities but I decided not to go that way), for if they didn't Reno would inevitably have ended up hurting Tifa. In other words, Reno's dying was the best possible outcome for them. He could either go out a hero or stick around and end up two timing Tifa. I tried to give him the noblest ending I could though if you are a die hard Reno fan, I doubt that anything I could have written (bar keeping him alive, of course) would have satisfied you.
One other question that might be on your minds. Did Tifa dance or not? I left her standing there wavering about going on and never actually said specifically that she did. And of course, later on, after what happened to Reno, it didn't matter. Obviously I did this deliberately. In real life she only had two choices, she either did or didn't. In fiction, however, it's possible to leave a grey area. I decided to leave it up to you. If you want to believe she did dance, and there is a certain tragic irony to that considering what happened afterwards, you can. If you want to think she changed her mind, you can believe that too. The bottom line was, whether she actually danced or not was irrelevant to the story. The only reason that was in there was to make her realize just how strongly she felt about Reno, willing to do something like that for him.
Finally I'd like to thank Jen for her help on the story even though, due to time constaints of her own, she had to drop out after chapter three. I'd also like to thank Zelda for acting as a sounding board and friendly consultant for some of the chapters. As for a sequel, well, obviously what happened at the end leaves plenty of room for one. There are some very interesting possibilities inherent in a Cloud/Tifa reunion. Although I don't have any plans for a sequel at the moment, I certainly wouldn't rule one out.
Okay, enough of my babble. Thank you all for reading!
Frank