Title: Heritage
Words: 976
Summary: In a way, your family never really leave you.
A/N: Happy (belated) Birthday, Tifa Lockhart, and Happy Mother’s Day!

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She’s on her way downstairs when she sees someone inside Tifa and Shelke’s room. Curious, Marlene quietly pushes the room door further open about a quarter of an inch.

From where she stands, she sees the lone figure sitting on the bed. The latter’s face is turned away as she rests her head against her knees, arms wrapped round her legs. The eight-year-old hesitates a moment before treading carefully inside, not wishing to make a sound. Likely as not, she won’t really be noticed.

“Marlene?”

She jerks. Then she sighs and looks at the one on the bed, who probably spotted her the minute she set one foot inside. Without any more hesitation, Marlene walks up to her, putting her hand gently on the older girl’s forearm. “…are you okay?”

Tifa sits up and nods, though her smile is small. “I’m alright.”

Marlene looks at her for an instant. Then she climbs up onto Tifa’s bed, leaning against the young woman. Tifa herself sits against the pillows and curls one arm around the girl in a loose hug. They stay quiet for a while, neither one feeling up to much conversation.

Then Tifa’s voice emerges softly. “Is Shelke downstairs?”

“Yeah, with the others.”

Another pause of silence follows that confirmation.

“…what’s wrong, Tifa?”

Tifa is silent for a moment, then she says, “I was thinking about my mother.”

Marlene looks up at her guardian in surprise. She’s never really heard about Tifa’s family, even after all this time. “Your mom?”

Tifa nods, stroking Marlene’s brown hair gently. “When I was younger, everyone said I looked quite like her.”

“…did she do martial arts too?”

The older girl chuckles. “No, she didn’t. She was a very gentle woman. Ladylike, always neat and tidy.” Tifa pauses a bit before she laughs a little. “I only looked like her after all.”

Marlene smiles to hear her chuckle. “You’re tidy though. Sort of.”

“Thank you for that compliment,” says Tifa amusedly.

They lapse into silence again, this time in a more reminiscing mood. It’s so odd, how one moment Tifa had been brushing her hair in the mirror, and in the next, suddenly remembering her mother doing the same thing, years and years ago. In her mind’s eye, she can see her nine year old self in the kitchen again, laughing as she helped her mother clean up the floor after another baking disaster. Somehow, Mrs Lockhart’s cakes never turned out quite right. Probably one of the few traits her mother had inexplicably passed down since Tifa couldn’t quite get the hang of making baked goods either.

In the mix of longing and nostalgia, that ever-present edge of guilt, the questions of her saving her family’s lives if she’d done something different, lurks.

“…Daddy says he’ll tell me about my mom when I get older.”

Tifa looks at Marlene, seeing the calmness in her face as she continues. “He says she died when I was born.”

She says nothing else and Tifa can only hug her ward in silence, heart aching for the girl. As much as she misses her, Tifa had at least known her mother, what she looked like, who she was as a person. Marlene never could.

“…it’s not your fault, you know,” says Tifa after a few minutes of silence, suddenly realising what Marlene might be thinking. “Don’t ever think it is.”

“I know.” She looks up and squeezes Tifa’s wrist a little in reassurance. “Daddy said the same thing. He said, she wouldn’t want me to think it was my fault. She would have wanted to see me grow up and be happy.”

Tifa smiles, imagining Barret firmly insisting his daughter commit those words to memory. “Good.”

“…your mom would want that too.”

Marlene looks straight at her guardian, watching those red-brown eyes gaze back at her. With a wide, warm smile, Tifa leans in and gratefully kisses her on the forehead. She usually does it only at bedtime but this moment warrants it.

“You know,” says Tifa when she draws away, “I’m supposed to be taking care of you. Not the other way around.”

The girl grins to see Tifa’s expression. “But you do. A bit.”

Tifa stares at her for a moment before she pounces on her, poking and tickling her in the sides, in retaliation for that backhanded compliment. A giggling Marlene squirms around, trying to avoid the onslaught, before finally hopping off Tifa’s bed and running out.

“Coward!” calls out Tifa laughingly after her, though the only response is another giggle as Marlene makes her escape down the stairs. Smiling, Tifa gets to her feet and heads out the door.

Only to run right into Cloud, bumping straight into him and just missing a collision of noses.

“Nngh!”

“C, Cloud?”

Cloud winces, but smiles slightly at her. “Hi.”

“Sorry…! I was just going after Marlene.”

“I know.”

“You-” Tifa peers at him. “…did you hear us?”

Cloud’s blue eyes rest on her face for a moment before he nods. He looks towards the stairs as he says, “I was wondering where you two were. Then I heard you talking.” He looks back at her, sees the look in her eyes and his lips curl gently upwards. He can tell what she’s thinking – what that concerned look on her face is for – and takes her hand, linking his fingers in between hers.

“I would take Marlene’s advice.”

Tifa’s smile spreads across her face, relieved and glad to see the steadiness in his expression. She nods, tightening her grasp on his hand. “I’m planning to.”

As they start to head downstairs, hand in hand, a thought occurs to her and she chuckles lightly. Cloud gives her a quizzical expression and she grins slightly at him.

“I think I’ll try baking again.”

The sudden look of consternation on Cloud’s face makes her laugh harder.


End.

Comments: I keep forgetting that Seventh Heaven now just doesn't take in orphans, it's run by orphans too.

I wrote this right in the middle of my final university exams and... I don't regret it. XDD I just wish I could have put it up in time for Tifa's birthday but oh, well...