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Final Fantasy 7. Tifa Lockhart: Journey to Midgar.	By : Nickamano Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 7306 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is created and owned by Squaresoft, now Square-Enix. Nothing here is owned by me. It was created for entertainment purposes, and I am not profiting financially from the creation and online presentation of this story.

Chapter List
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12. Crossing Continents.
The ocean ferry was really a cruise-liner, though it did sport a hold for vehicles, so maybe ‘hybrid’ of some kind would have been a more accurate term. The ship was big, tall and wide and was all white paint with polished chromium edging. Though at night it was illuminated with long lines of glowing orange lights like bunting. It was clean and tiny and spic and span. The vessel departed dead on time at midnight and Tifa had managed to procure herself a nice little single cabin, courtesy of her Bikini Contest Winner’s wish.

It was nice and peaceful in her cabin. Clean and tiny and spic and span. The cabin had plenty of home comforts and the bunk was wide with a well-padded mattress. There was also a comfortable armchair beside a couple of shelves stocked with an interesting selection of books, about two score of them in all. It also featured a well-positioned porthole giving her a nice, if small, view of the ocean and, as she woke with the dawning son, the bright cerulean sky filled her waking view. That colour inexplicably reminded her of Cloud’s brilliant blue eyes. Though whether that was the Cloud from her recent dreams or the Cloud of her memories she could no longer be certain. It had been over four years since she had last seen him.

She had her meals in the dining area with the other passengers which were always pleasant and tasty and gave her ideas for her own recipes which she jotted down in a little notebook she had brought along from Zangan’s cabin.

There was even a small enclosed training and fitness area in the top deck. The first day she had almost been evicted from the place after her first use of a heavy punching bag. She went in with some power, expecting the bag to take the punishment only it didn’t. The first time the chain, suspending the bag from the ceiling, broke with her first punch. One of the staff members, assuming a weak link in the chain, apologised and directed her to another bag. This second bag she accidentally put her very first open-finger jab right through the front and out the back, cascading the coarse sand contents all over the floor.

It was only her obvious heartfelt regret, giving assistance to the clean-up and the fact that she was so pretty, that the staff member gave her the benefit of the doubt and allowed her to keep using the equipment. From then on, she kept to athletic training, fitness training and forms, and stayed away from the combat-based equipment for the remainder of her two-week journey.

They made good time the first week and were well over half way across the ocean by the beginning of the second week. The weather was with them, calm seas, sunny and warm with a good Easterly wind that aided the engines with the use of a single great sail.

Tifa had been elated to find she didn’t suffer from sea sickness at all. Though the sea being as calm as it was, maybe it wasn’t a fair test? She was up on deck one warm sunny morning early in the second week, sitting on a deck chair at the edge of the, at that time unused, swimming pool. She was relaxing, reading a book on the traditional cuisine of the Midgar continent. A number of the dishes and ingredient combinations were familiar to her but there were some additional ideas she liked and intended to try out at some point. She jotted down the page numbers in her note book, intending to copy down the recipes later on.

She was wearing one of her usual vest-top and miniskirt combinations and though she had gone barefoot and, of course, gloveless she was still feeling too warm. Pretty much everyone else was wearing swimwear and she had a moment of regret that she had discarded her Costa Del Sol bikini, that was until she remembered how little it actually covered.

There was a little souvenir shop on the ferry’s deck somewhere near the stern and she thought she had glimpsed some clothing items there, maybe after lunch she would have a look and see what they had, she thought.

There was a group of lads around Tifa’s age gathered around the bow of the ship, four of five of them, leaning against the white painted railings and chatting amongst themselves. Many of them were looking her way. Looking her way then passing comments between them, grinning or laughing. One of them whistled loudly in her direction and then turned his back suddenly while the others fell about laughing.

Tifa ignored them as best she could though their constant background chatter, laughter and stares was distracting and frustrating. She knew one of them was going to come over to speak to her or to hassle her at some point soon, it would be like the fifth time already during this trip. And she still wasn’t used to it. All she seemed to be for them was an “attractive girl with a nice figure”. Or a “hot chick with a great bod”, or a “stacked babe” or a “cute slut with great tits”, or a “wannabe cum-slut”. Or just plain “tit-bitch”.

She found it as surprising and it was tiresome and infuriating. Was that all she was to younger guys? Was that all they could see? Were they struck blind and stupid, just because she was attractive and athletic and had large breasts? She might as well be a sex doll if that was all they cared about, with nothing inside her but hot air.

Zangan knew she was more than just her face and body, of that she had absolutely no doubts. And she thought so did Cloud. He’d known her before she grew up and got these big breasts, he knew the Tifa inside the body. Not like these walking cocks, standing around staring at her and passing comments back and forth.

“Are those boys bothering you miss?”

She glanced around to her left and saw a young Deck Officer, his job apparently being part Purser part Passenger Relations. He was standing close but not too close, he gave a professional bow of greeting as she looked up and caught his eye.

“Hmm? Oh, no not really. If they do, I can deal with them easily enough.”
“We’re having to keep an eye on them, the parents of one young lady has already made a complaint about them, I’m afraid.”
“Which young lady?” Tifa asked, suddenly concerned.
“Young Miss Fort. She’s on board with her parents. Short, orange hair...?”

Tifa nodded, the description adequate enough to click in her memory.

“I’ve seen them around. She’s really pretty. Have they been hassling her?”
“So her father has reported. Though without independent witnesses, there’s little we can do other than keep an eye on them for the time being.”
“Thank you for the warning. I’ll be keeping a closer eye on them myself from now on.”
“Well, we’re very sorry for any inconvenience they might cause you, Miss. Is there anything I can get for you? Anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable?”
“No, thank you very much. Actually, do you have newspapers on board?”
“Yes Miss, we have our own printers on board, the ‘Daily World News’ and ‘Shin-Ra Express’ are downloaded, printed and issued on a daily basis via the gift shop.”
“Thank you.” Tifa replied.
“This is a very nice ship you have.” She added with a thought.

He bowed again, acknowledging her compliment with a polite smile, and then left her to her book.

The gift shop afforded her not only the newspapers of the day but there was a little library to the rear, in a what should have been a store room. It was rather makeshift, dimly lit and a little on the dusty side and was mostly made up of left behind and lost-property books and magazines, and then shelves of old newspapers stacked up to the rear of the room. It was also a little labyrinthine with the number of shelves boxed into such a relatively small space. Tifa by-passed her initial idea of searching for a swimsuit or bathing suit and instead spent the morning trawling though newspapers over the previous year, searching for news on SOLDIER, specifically anything that might hint at Cloud and his graduation or progression through the ranks. However, she didn’t find anything, not even a hint. There was simply nothing to be discovered. The only interesting, and painful, report was a mention of the ‘Great Sephiroth’ having ‘fallen in battle’, though nothing was mentioned of the circumstances or of the destruction of Nibelheim or all of the civilian casualties, her father among them.

It was a disheartening and rather tedious search and, as soon as she started to feel the pangs of hunger, Tifa gave up and headed to the restaurant to have some lunch.

She spotted the Fort family at lunch. Tifa had taken a liking to the coffee and cakes section. It was a little mock tearoom named the ‘Blenheim’ and was apparently inspired by the traditional tearooms native to the Kalm area. Tiny little shops that could barely seat a score of customers at a time. Old-fashioned, quaint chintz décor, decorating little round tables that seated four if you all packed in tight enough. The tables featured little triple-tiered silver platers of tiny cream cakes, pastries, buns and scones of all kinds and varieties. They were invariably served with tea or coffee or hot chocolate, milk or a small number of carbonated drinks. The Fort family appeared to be trying the place out, possibly for the first time.

Tifa felt eyes on her from the moment she stepped into the main restaurant. She was used to being looked at, stared at sometimes. Some people were more polite, more reserved and respectful than others. Some, stared aghast. Some, often women, glowered with jealousy or ill-formed judgement. Some stared while all but dripping with an unflattering wanton lust. A few smiled politely and she tended to smile back if they were polite in their attempt to connect. However overall, she tried to maintain a casual distance, to keep to herself. Reading material helped. If she buried her face in a book or newspaper it tended to create a useful buffer and kept all but the most ardent of interested parties at bay.

The Fort’s were taking up one small corner of the tearoom. There was also an older couple present, who by their dialect and clothing might have come from Kalm itself and were probably either mildly amused or mildly offended by the ferry’s attempt to replicate its own traditional quaint decadence. And in a far corner sat an old woman with a cup of tea in a saucer working away with a pair of knitting needles and a ball of wool, which had rolled from her lap and onto the floor.

Tifa took a corner table which was flanked by two emerald, leafy, potted plants, noticing as she took her seat that someone had left a newspaper on one of the other chairs. She glanced over the headline which featured the usual Shin-Ra propaganda. Profit announcements, success of the latest Mako reactors, continued expansion throughout Wutai. She had already read that issue and scanning over the familiar content emblazoned across the front page made her face twist in a grimace, as though she’d tasted something that had gone off.

She felt eyes on her but this time, on glancing up, she saw it was the Fort girl, who was close to Tifa’s age, though certainly younger. She was a very pretty girl and sported an air of the lively, excitable type.

Tifa smiled at her and she smiled back and gave her a friendly little wave but then her father muttered something to her and the girl sulkily drew her attention back to their own table. Tifa watched the girl for another second or two. She must only be a year or two younger than Tifa but certainly, in the face, she looked younger still. She had straight, light peach coloured hair cut into a short bob with a full fringe that caught in the long lashes of her big golden eyes. She was wearing a one-piece swimsuit that was, at least at first glance, surprisingly demure. It was sleeveless with a high collar, though it ended like hot-pants at the very tops of her thighs. It was a bright almost dayglow orange with a few sky-blue stripes here and there. It was also utterly skin tight and in that sense left very little to the imagination. She was quite shapely underneath the shiny fabric, nothing close to Tifa’s own shapeliness but she had developed curves and there was some tone to her bared arms and legs. She wondered if the girl trained. Maybe she was a dancer, or maybe she was a student of martial arts. Could she even be one of Zangan’s students?

Tifa considered asking her. She had asked a few people on board if they were familiar with Zangan but no one she had asked so far had ever heard of him. And all the negative responses to her enquiries were beginning to bring her down. When she had thought about him earlier, she had pictured him as well known and well respected throughout Gaia, famous even.

And yet now she was starting to recognise that the planet was much bigger than her, actually rather protected upbringing, had allowed her to believe.

Her mind wandered as her eyes danced over the bell jar-covered tiered-display of little cakes and pastries. And she could see the waiter moving over to the Fort’s table. He would be coming to her next. She’d order a big glass of vanilla flavoured iced coffee, with cream.

And then after lunch, she’d spend an hour or two in the training room, burning off all those calories. She was missing the training regime she was used to. Fitness- and weight-training was one thing, and the martial forms was a big help but not being able to work on pads or punching bags or a wooden-man training dummy was torture for her. As was having to go slow and easy and completely avoid practicing the most athletic techniques in her repertoire, and it was starting to really frustrate her.

A loud scrape of a chair grabbed Tifa’s attention and she followed the cause of the sound to see the peach haired girl hop out of her pushed-back seat and bounce excitedly over to Tifa’s table.

“Hi! I’m Miki!” She sang. “Miki Fort, I’m here with my mom and pops.”

Her bright, gleeful, golden eyes were huge reflective pools of liveliness and boundless energy.

“Hi Miki. I’m Tifa.”
“It’s great to meet you, Tifa. It’s nice to have someone of a similar age to talk to. We’re from Rocket Town and are on our way to Junon to spend some time with my Aunt and Uncle. That’s old Junon, not new Junon.”

Tifa didn’t know what that meant but she was so taken aback by Miki’s over-excited blabber mouth that she didn’t think to ask.

“Are you here alone?” The peach haired girl asked.
“Yeah. I’m heading for Midgar.”
“Oh…”

Miki went all quiet, looked down and a little flush crept into her cheeks, the exuberance had abruptly fallen away, leaving behind a kind of subdued air. Then, with those huge golden eyes, bigger than ever, she gazed across at Tifa.

“Erm… Do you think we could maybe hang out sometimes? Not all the time… I mean, I’m sure you want your space, I just get so bored hanging with mom and pops all the time.”
“That would be nice, Miki. We can hang out, as long as your parents are okay with it.”
“Great! So, how old are you, Tifa? Where’re you from?”
“Sixteen, I’ll be seventeen in May. And I was born in Nibelheim. You heard of it?”
“No. I’ve heard of the Nibel mountains though, they’re south of Rocket Town, I think.”
“Well, Nibelheim’s just south of the mountain. Or, it was.”
“Was?”
“It burned down. Not long ago, my village, not the mountain.”
“Oh… I’m sorry Tifa.”

There was the briefest of silences but it seemed like Miki felt the need to fill them and it wasn’t long before she was off again.

“I’m almost fifteen. Just another month to go. I like singing. We have a band back home. We sometimes play for the guys in the inn. It’s a lot of fun but they’re all older, the audience I mean, so we have to play older music and I prefer modern stuff, but you have to keep the punters happy you know…. Have you ordered yet? This place is funny, but kinda cute. Are the cakes nice?”

She was on the verge of blowing Tifa’s mind with her verbal unstoppablity. And yet, at the same time she was fun, a breath of fresh air and she made Tifa feel like a bit of a kid again herself, as though the girl’s manic exuberance was rubbing off on her.

“Yeah, you should try them all. And then go straight to the training room afterwards, burn off all those calories…”

Miki laughed, not really realising Tifa had been serious.

“You’re really pretty Tifa, I bet you get chased around by boys all the time.”

The girl’s observation was offered in a straight mix of awkward embarrassment and wide-eyed look of being utterly impressed with the older teen.

“You’re very pretty too, I’m sure you get plenty of attention yourself.”
Tifa countered with a polite smile.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Well, kind of… He kinda disappeared on me, I'm out here looking for him.”
“Did he walk out on you, or something?”
“No... it’s complicated.” Tifa said with a little grimace.

Miki seemed to register that Tifa might not want to elaborate and quickly changed the subject.

Miki stayed at Tifa’s table and they ordered sweet treats and drinks, and chatted away already feeling a closeness. Miki was fun, energetic and interesting. Rather an opposing force to Tifa’s quiet, reserved fortitude, yet the two opposites attracted. And after lunch, ended by Miki’s parents calling to her and saying it was time to be going, the two teenagers promised to meet up again later for their evening meal and, with the older Fort’s permission, they arranged to hangout for a couple of hours in the evening.

Feeling the limb-shaking, heart-racing aftereffects of a sugar-rush following the inordinately sweet yet supremely tasty lunch, Tifa jogged over to the training room. Her mind caught up in the strange sensation of feeling weighed down by calories, she started with one of the running machines.

She began by breaking a sweat over ten mile running program, before moving over to some of the weight-training machinery, using a rowing-style machine to work on her arms, shoulders and abdominals, and then with a little reprogram, on her legs and buttocks.

She was onto a third machine, that worked on her inner thighs, calves and hips when quite out of the blue, Miki appeared again. She didn’t seem to notice Tifa as she went over to the jukebox and started up a light, rhythmic, pop sound that provided a reasonable beat to train to, and permeated the training room.

Though apparently and to Tifa’s momentary surprise, Miki wasn’t here to train. She was in fact here to dance. She took possession of a small square of space in one corner where the walls were made of floor to ceiling mirrors, indeed the West and South walls of the room were, while the North and East were clear glass. The mirrors were obviously designed to enable trainers to check their form and posture were correct. Miki, still dressed in her high-collar, high leg-line one-piece, started to dance to the music. She started to a simple swaying of her hips with a little cross-step routine and clicking her fingers, but after a couple of seconds she slipped into what appeared to Tifa to be an actual routine, and a rather athletic one too. The brunette teen found herself wondering if this was possibly an alternate method that the peach haired girl used to keep fit, rather than running, cycling and weight training machines. And pretty soon Miki wasn’t alone.

A young man had come in a couple of minutes after her and was standing just to the side of the corner Miki had claimed. He was watching her dance with a lopsided smile, lusty brown eyes and bare feet, one of which tapped in time to the music. He was dressed in loose-fitting, knee-length swimming trunks and nothing else, showing off a slender, well-formed musculature and a deep copper tan. His hair was dark brown, the swirling locks cascading in loose waves over his ears and his brow.

Tifa went back to her own toning and strengthening machine but she kept a close eye on Miki and her… Whatever he was.

Tifa recognised the lad as one of the little gang of annoying boys but he seemed to be a little more restrained and opting to behave himself. He was talking with Miki, who seemed to be explaining her dance moves to him, by example and verbally. After a few minutes she reached for him, apparently inviting him to join her and then they were dancing together a rough yet synchronised routine, that she was teaching him and he was picking up impressively quickly.

Tifa couldn’t work out if they were being flirty together or if their physical familiarity was a part of the dance. However, they were often close together and some moves appeared to require that they had their hands on each other. Tifa was mildly suspicious and yet at the same time she wasn’t seeing any hints of Miki being uncomfortable so she just watched in silence and then as she concluded her own training routine, she decided to leave them to it.

She took a quick stroll around the ship’s top deck and then took one last quick glance into the training room, but Miki and the boy still appeared to be practicing their dance routine and nothing appeared any different, so she headed back to her cabin.
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Final Fantasy 7. Tifa Lockhart: Journey to Midgar.