Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 73-98
The first thing she saw when she awoke was a painted white ceiling. First, Tifa moved only her eyes. Next, she craned her neck to look at the interior of the room.
On the wall to the right hung a clock which read 3:15. But was it morning or afternoon? To her left was a white sheet used as a wall partition that obstructed her view. She turned to her right once more. Next to her head was a metal device emitting a low humming sound. Several tiny lights flickered. The number on the digital display indicated 72. The slim cable connected to the apparatus went up towards the ceiling, then back down, passed through a hook in the stand, and then disappeared underneath her blanket.
She tried moving the fingers on her right hand, but couldn’t apply enough pressure. When she brought her hand up above her face, a thin tube secured to her forearm with tape moved up along with it.
“Eugh!” It was meant as a cry of pain but the sound that escaped was almost guttural. Her throat ached. Had she lost her voice? Realization slammed her along with the pain.
I’m alive.
Yes, she should have been dead. She recalled the twisted face of the man everyone had called a hero.
She heard the sound of the door opening on the other side of the partition.
“May I come in?” came a soft, female voice as the partition slid open. Standing before her was a largely built woman with dark brown skin wearing a white lab coat.
“Hello. Nice to meet you. My name is Damini Orange, and this is my clinic. I’m sure you have many questions but your checkup comes first.”
The moment she finished speaking, Damini drew towards the apparatus by her bedside and fiddled with it.
“Can you tell me your name and age?”
“Tifa…”—she managed to squeeze out with difficulty—“Lockhart. Fifteen years old.”
“Correct. Are you feeling any pain?”
“My chest…No, everywhere hurts.”
“Alright. Now do you feel chest pain on the outside?—Inside? Where exactly does it hurt?”
“Outside. I don’t know, maybe inside too…”
“Noted. But we can’t give you anymore painkillers. If the pain worsens we’ll have to come up with some other way.”
Damini appeared to be around the same age as her father.
Oh… Papa… There was no question as to why tears gathered in the corner of her eyes.
Damini shook her head apologetically.
No, that’s not it. It wasn't the painkillers she wanted.
“Anyway I’m glad you woke up. Your data looks all clear. Now then, maybe I should explain the situation to you?”
Tifa gave a small nod.
“You received a laceration caused by some sort of sharp-edged object. Most likely a sword. Around this area of your chest, from here”—Damini pointed underneath her left collarbone and dragged her finger down and across towards the bottom of her right breast—“to here, the wound is very deep. The injury crushed a piece of your sternum, but didn’t puncture any of your lungs or internal organs. I suppose that’s some consolation. Now, compression fractures are usually common in the sternum, but your case is unusual. We replaced the missing bone with synthetic grafts, and right now it’s being reinforced with metal wire. This wire will stay on for the rest of your life. Well, that’s with today’s medical technology. Oh, but it won’t interfere with your daily life. Also, your chest still needs to be kept secured in place so we’re having you wear a corset. We’ll gradually loosen the pressure on it, but it may cause pain for some time.”
Damini nodded sympathetically.
“Right. The procedures completed so far were done by Dr. Shillong from Corel Town. You haven’t met him yet, but he’s an extraordinarily skilled doctor. I’m here for post-op general care and to do skin-grafting. Not only was it a huge laceration, but since there was a scar left from the operation, I made the judgement call. You’re a young girl after all. We felt the surgery had to be done right away while the wound hadn’t healed yet. Of course, we were worried you might get an infection, but there doesn’t seem to be any problems. Oh, yes. The transplanted tissues are the latest medical product. It may take about three to four years to assimilate with your natural skin, but you’re young so I imagine it might be shorter than that. The cause of the pain outside your chest is due to this transplant. It’s just like a burn, but don’t worry. It will go away in time. The color should also begin to look more like your surrounding skin. Do you have any questions?”
There was so much information coming at once that Tifa couldn’t quite grasp everything that was said.
“I know it’s a lot to take in right now. We’ll keep you here for about half a month, so there’s no need to rush. Just know this. You’re a survivor, and you’re gonna go on living. The past is in the past. I want you to think about the future as much as possible.”
“Doctor…” Her voice came out hoarse. “I feel like I’ve slept for so long. What day is it? Where am I?”
“This is the Sector 8 slums. Now is—”
She was stunned upon hearing the date. Damini wiped Tifa’s face with a moist gauze, and then circled around to her feet and lightly patted her ankle.
“Let’s work hard together!”
When she was alone, Tifa thought back to her burning hometown. So one whole month had passed since these eyes which had stung from the black smoke had gazed upon Nibelheim.
“One whole month…”
A month ago, driven by the flames, her father urged her to escape to the waterfall basin. He pushed Maru, whom he had been holding, into her arms and told her, “Stay here! There’s nothing that can burn here, so the fire won’t come this way. But if the wind changes, the smoke might. If that happens, lay down low and let it pass.”
“Papa, what about you?”
“Zonder was killed. I’m the only surviving advisor. I have to fulfill my duties.”
“No!”
“Don’t look like that. I have to rescue those who are injured.”
Her father rejected her pleas, and just as he stated, ran off toward the burning village, bringing over one injured person after another. But from what she could see these people did not appear to be alive. They were covered in so much soot that she couldn’t tell if they were people she even knew. Their hair and clothing had been burned away, and she couldn’t look directly at them.
It was then that Zangan appeared, carrying two people on each of his shoulders. He laid them on the ground, looked at Tifa, and then nodded before running off again.
Her father crouched over the bodies. The pitch-black figures wailed with grief. Their arms, as if seized by something, reached up into the air, but fell back to the ground like puppets whose strings were cut.
“Dammit! Damn it all!”
She had never heard her father curse before. His face, stained with soot and sweat, glistened in the fire. He looked at Tifa with bloodshot eyes.
“Sephiroth went into the mountains. I’ll go talk to him.”
Brian nodded emphatically, and then took off running toward the mountains. Go there for what? Talk to him about what? He’s gone mad!
“Papa!”
Tifa clutched Maru to her bosom and ran out of the waterfall basin. She saw her father’s back going toward the mountains.
“Papa, wait!”
She chased after him, but struggled to run with Maru in her arms. Her father kept receding into the distance. Once she reached the mountain gate, Maru jumped from her arms and meowed as if to scold her. Or perhaps, pleading with her not to go any further.
“Maru, I’m sorry.”
She crossed the mountain gate and went into the mountains. No matter how far she wandered, there was no sight of her father anywhere. Instead, she saw the carcasses of monsters scattered along the road, cut down by a single stroke of the blade. She thought of Sephiroth's long sword, the same one he had used to strike down the villagers.
“Papa!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. But there was no answer.
Finally, she reached the mako reactor. The entrance to the reactor was wide open.
“Papa?!”
An Insect Chimera suddenly appeared in front of her. She evaded the hulking creature’s flying attack. Without hesitation, she drove her fist up into its abdomen, sinking into and splitting open the soft flesh, staggering it to the ground. Tifa then jumped up, curled her knees to her chest, and then forcefully stretched out her legs to dive straight down on its abdomen, digging into its gut with the heels of her boots. The movements were rapid. She had chained together a set of forms she learned from the Book of Secrets.
But there was something else her training did not prepare her for. Her whole body, even her hair, was covered in the monster’s body fluids. The stench was horrible.
“Wah!” She panicked.
“Tifaaa!” Someone called for her. A man’s voice. It sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t tell who it was. It wasn’t her father.
“Papa! Papa!”
“Tifa?”
This time it was a woman's voice. Someone poked at her cheek.
“Who are you?!”
She turned around to find a monster with a human-like figure.
“No!”
The ground began to shake.
“Tifa, wake up! Calm down. It’s only a dream. Come on back.”
The gaping entranceway to the mako reactor disappeared.
So bright. She closed her eyes, then opened her eyes. Was it something that really happened or was it from her imagination?
“Good morning. You’re safe here.”
Her nightmare was over. There was Damini’s face in front of the dazzling lights. On the wall to her right was a window, and light seeped through from the other side of the curtains.
“Is it morning?”
“Seven o’ clock in the morning. The light source is coming from the slum’s sun though.”
“Huh?”
“There’s a huge lamp that lights up the Slums. You should go and take a look when you're able to go outside. Now then, it’s time for your checkup. Can you tell me your name and age? And for today, your birthplace as well.”
“Tifa Lockhart. Fifteen years old. Nibelheim.”
“Do you remember my name?”
“Dr. Damini Orange.”
“Correct. Are you feeling any pain?”
“Umm… There’s this throbbing pain on my chest. On my wrists and ankles too.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to put up with that. We’re planning to decrease your dosage of painkillers.”
Damini examined her face intently.
“I have a question for you. Do you remember the details of how you came to be here?”
“If it’s about the man who struck me with his sword, then yes. I won’t forget for the rest of my life.”
“I see…”
“It was Sephiroth. Sephiroth from Soldier. In the mako reactor, he turned his blade on me.”
Damini nodded absentmindedly. “As of now, can I ask you to keep that to yourself around here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to get myself involved in that incident.” Damini lowered her head apologetically. Seeing that made Tifa’s anger flare up.
“What do you mean, get you involved?”
“Shinra Company doesn’t know that you’re here. We’ve treated your injuries and looked after you. That’s already pushing it. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t want to hear anything about this incident. I can’t do anything that might make them think I’m working in opposition to them. Cooperation with Shinra Company is very important for us to provide the latest medical care in the Slums. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“Alright…”
She had tubes going through her body. What other option did she have?
“Doctor, when can I leave the hospital?”
Damini lowered her eyes, appearing uncomfortable with the question. Tifa wondered what other problems there might be.
“There are three conditions you need to meet before we can discharge you. One, the skin fusion must progress to level 3 or higher. Two, regain muscle strength to allow for minimal daily activities. Three, you will need to pay for all your medical expenses and hospitalization, which amounts to—”
Damini mentioned an absurd sum of money. A chill crept up Tifa’s spine.
“I- I don’t have any money…”
“Figures.” Damini silently gazed out the window. “You don’t have a place to live either, do you?”
Why was this happening? While she was lying unconscious, the world around her had changed so drastically and in an unimaginably horrible way.
“For now, let’s work on steps one and two, okay? Skin and muscle strength. Nourishment for the skin, and rehabilitation to help you regain muscle strength. My son, Rakesh, will assist you.”
It was three days later when she first met Rakesh face-to-face. Rakesh had inherited the same hair and skin tone as his mother. He had a handsome nose and pleasant voice.
“Hi there, Tifa. My name is Rakesh Orange. I’m here to help with your rehabilitation. My mom told you, right? Here, a present for you as a token of our friendship.”
Rakesh grabbed her wrist and shoved a soft rubber ball into her hand.
“In your spare time, squeeze this. It will help you to regain grip strength. But if you experience any pain, then skip it. Alright. Oh, and one more thing. Squeeze with one hand, and then the other.”
Rakesh brought his hands up next to his face and demonstrated for her. She burst out laughing.
“Hey, I like your smile. Now how about we do our best to help you get discharged as soon as possible?”
She replied yes, but perhaps her expression was gloomy. It did not escape Rakesh’s notice.
“You’re worried about the money, aren’t you? Heard about it from my mom. I think I can help with that. My mom lost her cushy life up top, but I was born and raised here in the slums. I know a thing or two about making a living here. Let’s just say that I know people,” said Rakesh proudly.
But unable to understand half of what was said, the uncertainty gnawing at Tifa didn’t go away.
“Come on. Just trust me.”
Well, she didn’t have any other choice.
They had switched her to a softer corset. Her bones hadn’t completely healed yet, but Rakesh had her start on her rehabilitation, targeting methods for regaining muscle strength that wouldn’t cause more strain on her injuries. They were to work on grip strength, walking and running ability, and stretching.
“The muscle loss was bound to happen. We'll just have to take our time helping you to restore it. You were inactive for so long that on the one hand, your nerves forgot how to take orders, and on the other, your muscles forgot how to move. Your body needs to learn all over again.”
Rakesh elevated Tifa’s ankles and calves to relieve the tension.
“Phew, it’s hot.”
Half a month had passed since Tifa started her rehabilitation. Rakesh wiped off beads of sweat from his brow. He had removed his jacket and was wearing only a short-sleeve t-shirt. The supple muscles of his arms protruding from his sleeves were beautiful.
Tifa looked down at her own wrist. The leather strap from Zangan was there but slightly darker than she had remembered it. Rakesh was also wearing something similar on his wrist.
“Rakesh, are you one of Master Zangan’s acquaintances?”
He gave her a stunned look, and then nodded his head again and again in understanding.
“Right. You haven’t been told how you came to be here, have you?”
And so, while helping her to raise and lower her legs, Rakesh started to talk.
“Yes, I’m one of Master Zangan’s students. You really don’t remember anything that happened after you got injured, do you?”
“No, not much. I mean, not at all, really.”
What Tifa could remember was Zangan's reproachful voice shouting for her to “Live!", Dr. Shillong’s grave expression, and the indistinct figures of the nurses who tended to her briskly going about their work. The memories were so fragmented that if someone were to tell her it was all a dream she would have believed it.
“At the first hospital, they finished treatment on your sternum, but your condition remained unstable. The doctor from Corel recommended you to be transferred to either Midgar or Junon because the hospitals there would have the medical equipment ready. They even got approval from Shinra Headquarters’ Science Division, but Master Zangan objected. After some heated discussions, you came here. I’m one of his students, and I guess he remembered that my mom runs this clinic in the slums. It must have been fate.”
“What heated discussions?”
“Well, the doctors working for Shinra Headquarters are top-notch. Zangan refusing to let them examine you must have made them think he was out of his mind.”
“But it’s Shinra…”
“Yeah, I know. Master Zangan said that you wouldn’t be happy about that, given the circumstances. Well, I won’t say ours is the best, but aren’t you happy to be here? If you say otherwise, I won’t have a leg to stand on.”
Rakesh looked at her triumphantly. Apparently he was making a joke.
“Okay, sure.”
“Let me give you one piece of advice. No matter how much you hate Shinra, it’s best not to tell anyone in Midgar about it. Nothing good will come of it. A slum tip for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else I need to know?”
“Way too much. Instead of hearing me yap on about it, you should experience it for yourself. Hey, come on, if you keep working hard you’ll be able to get out of here and do it sooner.”
Rakesh liked talking. While spending time with him, she was kept well informed about things related to the clinic. Rakesh’s father was a research doctor working for Shinra Company and he learned about physiotherapy from him. His father specialized in all aspects of biological muscle tissue, not of humans but of monsters.
“He kept saying that the basic construction of any living thing with bones and muscles are the same. Find that hard to believe, right? But he did take part in supervising an illustrated reference book of monsters. Got killed by one in the middle of his research though.” Having said that, Rakesh chuckled.
She felt uncomfortable hearing morbid jokes, but she learned to tolerate them as they were the staple among the seniors in the Calisthenics Club.
Once a week she had to go in for a chest x-ray fluoroscopy. Damini would examine the images on the monitor and make her decision, but Tifa couldn’t tell the difference when she looked at the comparison images. Was Damini nodding or shaking her head? Tifa would wait for her to make a decision as if she were praying every time.
“Hmm. Good. It’s going smoothly.”
On the last day of November, the corset was finally taken off.
“Breathe in as much as you can, until you start to feel pain. Easy… Easy…”
Zangan’s voice came to mind. Easy now… Easy…
No matter how hard she breathed in, she didn’t feel any pain.
“Excellent. Now, try to stretch your arms toward the ceiling. Take your time.”
She cautiously raised up her arms but there was no pain.
“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt!”
“Congratulations, Tifa.”
Damini patted her on the head as if she was a child. Tifa recoiled from her touch.
“Right. You want to wash your hair, don’t you?” asked Damini. She had read Tifa’s mind.
Normally, either she or Rakesh would wipe Tifa down with a towel, but that just wasn’t enough. There came a knock at the door. It was Rakesh. Tifa yanked the front of her gown shut.
“Come in!”
“How’d it go?!” asked Rakesh as he barged in.
“The results were okay!”
“You did it!” Rakesh threw her a thumbs up.
Tifa took over the shower room for a long time, washing her hair and her whole body until she was satisfied. But it didn’t make her feel as good as she thought it would. She had no idea how much money she needed to get out of the hospital and what to do after she left.
After washing herself clean, she put on the fresh undergarments and clothing that Damini had put out for her. The clothes were unremarkable, a large blouse and a mid-length skirt. Tifa put on the same ballet-type slippers she had worn during her rehabilitation. She was exhausted from just that. Her arms and legs felt so heavy. She sat down on the bed, and even just sitting was painful. She collapsed onto her side.
“It’s all gone.”
Gone were her favorite clothes, boots, hat, her mother’s photo, her father, and probably Maru too. Gone were her prized possessions, the Book of Secrets, the stairs she used to run up, the door she had accidentally closed when flustered, her piano, the scenery from her window, the Water Tower containing her memories. Gone, the muscles that had covered her whole body.
“There’s nothing left,” she said aloud before breaking down in tears.
The next morning, she received notice from Damini that the room needed to be vacated within one week.
“I’d love to absolve you of your payment, but we don’t have that luxury. We can split it into monthly payments.”
“Thank you,” said Tifa, but she didn’t even have the means to pay back even a single gil per month. She was completely lost over what to do.
Rakesh offered her a work prospect, and said that the rent was guaranteed to be cheap since she could live-in. She was happy about that, but the worries took over.
“What kind of work?”
“Can you cook?”
“A little bit, but I might not be up to par. I’ve lost all my muscles.”
“Here, I’ll let you borrow this.” Rakesh tossed a notebook onto the bed. “The Zangan-ryu Book of Secrets: Volume 1.”
Rakesh slowly performed the first set of forms.
“This all makes so much sense. You’ll build up muscle. But I think you know that already.”
Damini, who had been watching their exchange, stood up with a relieved look on her face. She placed a hand on Tifa’s shoulder.
“You know what they say. Education is something that no one can take away from you. I think they’re right about that,” she said, and then patted Tifa on the shoulder as if to give encouragement.
On December 4th, she took the ID card that Rakesh had prepared for her and left the clinic.
“It’s just a temporary card. The only places you can rent from are the Sector 8 slums. You can't use it to get work on the Plate, and you’ll need to get your own later. Use me as your personal guarantor for that. Oh, and I put your birthplace as Corel. I figured that if Shinra found out you were someone from Nibelheim, you’d be marked by them.”
“Thanks.”
This was the definition of immaculate service.
Tifa hadn’t been outside ever since she chased after her father who had run off to Mt. Nibel. Not only that, but it was her first time in the slums. She felt tired, anxious, and deeply agitated. Rakesh, who closely observed her, would run over with worry several times to stop her and have her take deep breaths.
“This is so embarrassing.”
“It’s alright. No big deal. Nobody cares. It’s the slums. Up you go—One more time.”
She took deep breaths and looked up. The town was under a ceiling consisting of neatly combined steel frames supported by giant pillars. Wherever the sunlight was blocked, the enormous sun lamps made up for it. There was even a whole city on top of this “ceiling” with several mako reactors scattered around. Compared to the reactors here, the one on top of Mt. Nibel looked like a miniature model.
Of course, she had some prior knowledge of Midgar. She had seen the video footage and photos, but it was still overwhelming. And the number of people! People were everywhere. Was Emilio, Lester, or Taylor among the crowd? And what about…Cloud? But even if they were, the chances of bumping into them again were slim.
“Every time Master Zangan comes here, he complains that it stinks. It's rude, you know, even if he is my master. It’s home to a lot of people.”
There certainly were a lot of smells—dust, sweat, iron and spices—but not so much that it could be considered stinky.
“Doesn’t smell that bad to me.”
“Yeah, it might be your first time walking around, but you’ve basically lived here for almost two months. You probably got used to it.”
“Does Master Zangan come often?”
“Not really. Maybe once every three or four months. He has many students here in the slums, so it’s not like he can come see me every time.”
Rakesh, perhaps unconsciously, fiddled with the leather bracelet on his wrist.
“What meaning does that have?”
“Ah, this?” He seemed taken by surprise by his own actions. “What do we call this? A charm—to keep me from temptation? Not that it really works. The slums are filled with so many vices… See that?”
Rakesh stopped abruptly and pointed halfway down the street to the entranceway into an alley.
“We’re turning over there. Remember your surroundings.”
Looking around, she noticed the front of a small shop with vegetables lined up for sale. Examining more closely, she saw meat and canned food. It was a general store, like the one Emilio’s family owned.
“Let’s go in further,” said Rakesh, wedging his way through the alleyway. She caught a whiff of the foul-smelling water.
“Most times, the alleyways smell bad. Wastewater from people’s homes gets flushed down here. But you’ll get used to it. Our bodies have an excellent system that kicks into gear called olfactory adaptation. Hey, look, there’s a cat. We have lots of cats here in the slums. Do you like cats?”
“Yeah.”
She was reminded of Maru who was always running away from home. She hoped he survived.
“Oh, right. About Sephiroth.” Rakesh stopped abruptly and turned to look at her. “One week ago, they made a public announcement that he’d been killed in battle, in Wutai. But his whereabouts were unknown. I wonder if they ever found his body.”
Good. He deserved to die after what he did. But she vacillated between reassurance and confusion. Now where was she supposed to direct her hatred and anger to?
“I got the gist of your story from what Master Zangan said, so I understand how you feel. But I'm hoping you can forget the past and make a fresh start.”
Tifa nodded absent-mindedly. That seemed to satisfy Rakesh, and he picked up the pace.
A man was sitting on a small chair in the alleyway. He didn’t strike her as young, but neither was he old. He had a weather-beaten face with deep wrinkles carved into his forehead, and his entire body was wrapped up in some sort of cloak.
“Tifa, this is ‘Gatekeeper’. Remember his face.”
“Gatekeeper, this is Tifa Lockhart. Please take care of her.”
“Hello. Pleased to meet you,” greeted Tifa, not quite understanding the situation.
The man Rakesh called “Gatekeeper” scowled angrily. Rakesh urged the confused Tifa onwards.
“Manson’s in charge around here. Oh, right. You’ll be working for Manson Group.”
“Who’s Manson?”
“The so-called local boss. I’ll be your go-between so you won’t ever have to meet him.”
“Someone scary?” asked Tifa, remembering Gatekeeper’s demeanor.
“Yeah, sometimes. But here in the slums, we have a number of people called bosses, each in charge of their own turf. Places like these are typically not as unsafe. Gotta remember that.”
Why couldn’t he tell her not to be scared?
“And we have arrived.”
They paused at an open space lined with large wooden crates. There were metal frames on the top and bottom of these crates. Post-and-beam framing was used to create surfaces of wooden boards. The wood was old and scratched. The red paint had lifted and was peeling off the steel parts, and the exposed area was rusting. There were about twenty similar crates placed around haphazardly.
“All of these containers were originally transported by truck. That’s why we call this place Container Alleyway. These are historic containers that were used for construction.”
Rakesh made a face that drew laughter, but quickly turned serious.
“It doesn’t look as bad on the inside as it does outside.”
On one of the walls facing the alleyway was a small door with a padlock, and from its hook dangled an antiquated lock. Rakesh produced a small key from his pocket, inserted it into the lock, and twisted the key. She heard a click as the lock came off. He handed it over to Tifa.
“If you’re uneasy, you can install one or two more, but it’ll be a pain to get in and out,” explained Rakesh as he opened the door and disappeared inside.
Tifa couldn’t get in the door easily without lowering her head. Making it first inside, Rakesh tugged on a cord dangling from the ceiling and the room lit up. The light from the naked bulb shined brightly.
“Rent will include electricity. Thanks to the mako reactor, our electricity bills are low.”
Tifa was only half-paying attention to what he said. Rakesh shut the door and twisted the ring on the padlock.
“If you’re worried, you can put the lock here instead. But, if you lose your key you’ll be trapped inside, so be extra careful.”
Once inside, she noticed that the walls and floors were arranged just like any normal house. On the wall opposite to the door was a vent and small window. A thin mattress and blanket was spread out on a simple metal framed bed. In place of what should be a pillow was a cushion.
There was also a monopod chair and small table set. Against the front, right-hand side wall were old cupboards stocked with tableware.
“It’s fully furnished. The trick to happy living is to not give a damn who used this stuff or who used to live here before you. Also, if you cook, make sure to keep the door and window open. For ventilation. But I don’t suggest it because it could be dangerous with these junkies around. Best for you to eat your meals at work.”
Tifa stared at Rakesh.
“We’ll talk about work later. Let’s see… You’ll find towels and stuff under the bed. Anyway, everything you might need is here. Any questions about the place?”
“Water… And what about the toilet and shower?”
“At the farthest end, there’s a shared water supply. The toilets and showers are all there. I promise it’s real filtered tap water. So, you take this here,”一He signaled to a water tank hanging on the wall一”and fill it with water and bring it back here to use. Don’t overfill or it gets heavy.”
“Um, excuse me…”
“Oh, the rent?”
“Yeah.”
“It's 15 gil a day.”
“Huh?”
“You can’t beat this price anywhere! Besides, if you keep on working hard, you’ll be raking in money in no time.”
The way Rakesh talked reminded her of what a human trafficker might say before kidnapping a child and transporting them to places to do intense labor. Traffickers were like the bogeyman in her childhood nightmares, on the same level as monsters and ghosts. The thought reminded her of the time she mistook Zangan for one when they first met. Zangan一That very same man had brought her and Rakesh together.
Her suspicions grew. Was it possible that this was all a misunderstanding, or was she in danger of being trafficked?
“Hey! Did you just give me a suspicious look? I should have worded it better. I’ll introduce you later, but it’s respectable work, okay? Don’t worry,” said Rakesh as they backed out of the container. He prompted Tifa to lock the door, and then they continued further down the clearing to check the location of the water supply, toilet and shower.
The container with the shower had the walls removed so the inside was exposed. There was a pipe chair nearby and a woman with a hunched back was sitting on it. Tifa guessed the woman to be in her forties. There was a counter in front of her, and on top of it sat a tin can filled with coins.
“This lady here is Water Guard.”
“It’s three gil per shower. Men also come to shower here so watch your back,” said “Water Guard.”
Um, what exactly was she supposed to watch out for?
“You can keep your clothes on, come in your undies, or a bathing suit, or even your birthday suit!”
“Okay…”
Was this woman making fun of her? The five showers did have boards separating them from each other, but there were no doors. This was going to be a serious problem. Maybe it was a sign to just forget about her sanitary life back in Nibelheim. Back to the alley and returning to the original street, she spotted the General Store crowded with customers. The shopkeeper was a young man in an apron, chatting with customers in a friendly manner.
What kind of work would they have her do? Did Manson have a temper? What if she couldn’t say no? She followed behind Rakesh’s footsteps, thinking of all the jobs she didn't want to do. The common sense of the slums and the sense of what was right and wrong was still unknown to her. She had no choice but to stick to him. Never did she imagine herself being so helpless.
※
“What are you thinking?” asked Red XIII who was lying on his stomach next to Tifa.
“I remembered when I first started living in the slums.”
“Oh? Very interesting.”
“It’s okay. Don’t mind me. Oh, look. Why don’t you join them? Go have some fun.”
In their line of sight, Cloud and Aerith were squaring off with a Chocobo.
“I’ll go if you want to be left alone. Otherwise, let me stay.”
“Alright, then stay.”
As they traveled along the Grasslands and Tifa told her friends about her life, she had stopped her story right before Sephiroth entered the picture. Anymore would be… too painful. There were still things she wasn't ready to talk about yet.
But, while she may have lost everything, luck was on her side. She had been blessed with encounters and connections, and now even missed them.
Novel by Kazushige Nojima
Translated by pekotranslates
Proofread by Eerie
