He truly didn't remember and she still couldn't decide if that was a bad thing or not. As often as they had their memories wiped, even between cycles for the losing team, she wasn't particularly alarmed or even surprised. Not having to remembering losing friends, watching them die, over and over? Not having to remember countless fights, endless wins and losses that didn't seem to matter in the end? She didn't run away from things but - she might not fight to get them back if she lost those memories. Forgetting her friends, her teammates, though...
She inched just a little close to him at his confirmation, now well within his shadow, eyes on his face, watching intently, that flicker of hope warring in her eyes. Home. He knew what her home was, what it felt like, smelled like, tasted like. All this time, fighting the likes of Kefka and Cloud of Darkness and it never crossed her mind that the man in front of her would lie to her. It wasn't in her to not trust him. His stipend had her wavering, had the doubt flickering through her. Of course she was Tifa. How could there be more than one of her?
Except -
Except she'd fought manikins that looked like her friends. It - had passed through her, when she was all alone in the darkness, surrounded by emptiness and feeling it's echo inside her that - that maybe manikins believed they were real too. Maybe, if they lived long enough, they started to remember too... Except all she had left to cling to, with her memories gone, was the surety of who she knew she was. If she didn't have that - what did she have? So she pushed the thought back and out of mind again, buried it and pulled in a deep breath. He had - very blue eyes. They were reassuring.
"You knew me during war. I - didn't recognize you but I know you knew me even if you said you didn't. You saved me. So I must be close enough to the same Tifa to count for something." The nail of her thumb picked for a second at the worn leather of his glove. A nervous habit from long ago. "Tell me something about where we're from?"
no subject
She inched just a little close to him at his confirmation, now well within his shadow, eyes on his face, watching intently, that flicker of hope warring in her eyes. Home. He knew what her home was, what it felt like, smelled like, tasted like. All this time, fighting the likes of Kefka and Cloud of Darkness and it never crossed her mind that the man in front of her would lie to her. It wasn't in her to not trust him. His stipend had her wavering, had the doubt flickering through her. Of course she was Tifa. How could there be more than one of her?
Except -
Except she'd fought manikins that looked like her friends. It - had passed through her, when she was all alone in the darkness, surrounded by emptiness and feeling it's echo inside her that - that maybe manikins believed they were real too. Maybe, if they lived long enough, they started to remember too... Except all she had left to cling to, with her memories gone, was the surety of who she knew she was. If she didn't have that - what did she have? So she pushed the thought back and out of mind again, buried it and pulled in a deep breath. He had - very blue eyes. They were reassuring.
"You knew me during war. I - didn't recognize you but I know you knew me even if you said you didn't. You saved me. So I must be close enough to the same Tifa to count for something." The nail of her thumb picked for a second at the worn leather of his glove. A nervous habit from long ago. "Tell me something about where we're from?"