Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Tomorrow ❯ Who Is She?! ( Chapter 2 )

Tomorrow

 

Disclaimer: Don't. Own.

 

She sat at the table; pen in hand, a strand of hair in her mouth, her eyes looking no farther then the piece of paper in front of her. Tifa waited silently for the slave girl—ex-slave, she reminded herself—to write something, her impatience bubbling just under the surface. God, she thought, even Marlene was never this shy!

 

Finally the snow-white piece of paper was passed to Tifa, and the raven-haired woman almost sighed in relief. She read the note that had been quietly scribbled on the blank piece of paper.

 

`My name's Anne. I was born in Midgar. Dunno who my mum was. My dad was someone I would rather not tell you about.'

 

Tifa sighed and shrugged. Looking at the child, she smiled at her. “That's okay if you don't want to talk about your dad now, but you are going to have to talk about him someday. Okay?” The girl nodded shyly as Cloud and Vincent walked in, Cloud gesturing wildly and Vincent staring at him with the `are-you-crazy?' look he reserved only for when Cloud was boring him-again.

 

The girl waved timidly to Vincent when he looked at her. The man nodded back, then turned again to Cloud to carry on the conversation.

 

“But we don't know if Sephiroth is dead,” Vincent said. “We only know that he disappeared after we fought him-for a while. I think that the things going on are because of him, not because he's dead.”

 

“Yeah, but I fought Sephiroth myself,” grumbled Cloud.

 

“And your fighting skills surpassed his by such a far margin that you're sure of success?” asked Vincent sarcastically.

 

“Um...” The three looked over at the girl. “He's...not dead.” She paused and looked down. “Sephiroth. He isn't...dead.”

 

“What?!” exclaimed Tifa. Cloud gasped, and Vincent looked faintly shocked. “How do you know?”

”I just...I don't want to...he beat me,” answered the girl quietly. She shrugged. “He was the one that...kept me as a slave before Vincent rescued me. Two of the other slave children that he kept, he treated...slightly better...always made fun of me. One night-the night Vincent rescued me-they were making fun of me again. Sephiroth...encouraged it, he thought it was funny, he said it increased everyone's mental capabilities. It was always me they picked on, never Rita, never Peter, so I don't see how it helped me...but anyway, he's not dead. That's my point. I know it.”

”That's insane,” growled Vincent. “I know Cloud didn't beat Sephiroth, but he can't be ordering around people just like that five months after they fought!”

 

“Yes, he can,” answered the girl. “He's still known in the wild parts around Midgar, and...kids get scared, when a guy that looks, acts, and sounds like Sephiroth tells you that you will do what he says-or else.”

 

“Yeah, but how do you know that it's him?” snapped Tifa. The girl looked ashamed, her head turned to the side.

 

“...Because he's my dad.”