She stands and puts the flowers in a rinsed-out juice jar. She sets it next to the photo of the crew.
The camera pans slowly across polished glasses, a clean counter, and a framed photo of the old crew at Costa del Sol. Dust motes dance in the last sliver of daylight.
Tifa’s expression changes instantly. The grief folds away, hidden behind a warm, practiced smile. She turns.
The bar’s front door creaks open.
“Hungry?”
She looks at Marlene, who is now climbing onto a barstool, swinging her legs.
Tifa lifts a chipped ceramic mug to her lips. She doesn't drink. She just holds it there, staring at the unfinished housing complex across the street. A child's bicycle lies abandoned in a patch of dirt. Flash CG FF7 - Tifa -20 years old- english translation
She rolls up her left sleeve. A faint, silvery scar runs from her elbow to her wrist—not from combat, but from holding onto Cloud as he fell into the Planet’s core. She traces it with her right thumb.
(whispered, in Japanese, with English subtitles) “Two years. And I still see it. The Lifestream. His hand slipping from mine.”
“She is not waiting for a hero. She is building a home.” She stands and puts the flowers in a rinsed-out juice jar
“Maybe tonight. Maybe he’ll open the door and not just stand outside.”
“Good. I’m trying a new recipe.”
Tifa moves behind the counter. She pulls out ingredients—fresh vegetables, a knife. Her hands move with surgical precision, but her eyes drift to the window one last time. Dust motes dance in the last sliver of daylight
SEVENTH HEAVEN