Directionless ships at sea might never find their way home. Finding the shoreline is no guarantee of safety. If the lighthouse has gone out, if there is no way to tell whether there are sharp rocks lying in wait to pierce the hull or if the waters are too shallow and they risk running aground, it can feel safer to wander endlessly in the dark of the ocean. Darkness, not knowing, there is comfort in that too.
Nibelheim does not feel like a place to roost or rest your wings. This is a quiet town, nestled at the foot of great craggy peaks and cold biting winds. It is a place of beginnings and endings, a place that lives only in their memory and a place that is not what it once was.
There was not enough space for him to stay within the town’s boundary without directly crossing paths with Tifa. He had made camp off the beaten road leading out of town, under a thicket of evergreens that would thin out the smoke of his campfire. A simple bivvy tent gave him additional protection from the elements and a place to sleep as the curtain of night fell and his breath began to mist into the air.
He did not spend the entirety of his time haunting childhood places. A majority of his daylight hours were spent hunting monsters. The hills were still rife with them, young drakes and wolf packs that had grown desperate enough for quarry that they lost their fear of humanity. At least he could do some good for the townspeople while he was here.
When he wanted to check on how Tifa was doing, he found creative vantage points along rooftops or glimpses caught between buildings.
How long did she plan on staying? What answers did she hope to find by living here? Simply watching her did not produce those answers that he wanted.
Tifa knows the mountains, all the small roads leading in and out of town, all the rocky ridges and narrow walking paths of Nibelheim better than the back of her own hand. She is here for other reasons beyond sightseeing. He wants to know that she is okay, that he can be there for her when the shadows grow too long, when the time is right. If the time is right. He made a promise, even if he is struck by unspoken bitterness every time he sees her crossing the rounded cobblestones of the town center. She had been there for him when he needed her most, but he had no such opportunity to do the same.
That wasn’t to say Cloud was completely free of his own demons. Gods know he’s had plenty of time alone in the dead of night to trap himself with them.
His chocobo strains against the leather lead wrapped around his fingers. Of course, there were occasions that left him no choice but to go into town and ensure that his mount was well fed and watered.
“I…” There is no answer that he can formulate that won’t somehow seem unhinged. Not a good look for him. The truth, then. Or at least as close to it as he can stand. “I went looking for you. After you left.” Without saying anything.
