Cloud x Tifa - Kick Drums and Red Wine (Final Fantasy VII)

Cloud x Tifa - Kick Drums and Red Wine

Sunlight was cleaving into the back of Cloud's neck as he emerged from the front gate of his supplier's warehouse in Junon, his boots greeting the asphalt of the road up front. It was a cold, crisp winter day, the kind of day where the sun shone so high and bright above the skyline that it was blinding.

Cloud withdrew his PHS from his side, glancing at the time. It was a little after four PM; he had plenty of time to finish the rest of his errands in town before making it home to Edge in time for dinner. And there was one really important errand that he needed to attend to - Tifa's gift.

Tomorrow was their first anniversary.

Cloud and Tifa had gotten married last year, December 12th, in the evening, at a quiet civic ceremony surrounded by only their closest friends and loved ones. Tifa had wanted to get married in the wintertime; it was her favorite season, and she'd prayed for snow. It had come down in a thick blanket of powder outside of the small church in Edge as they took their vows, and Cloud had watched Tifa's eyes widen with joy when she saw the fluffy stuff begin to gather on the window sill outside.

The moment had quickly skyrocketed to the top of his list of most cherished memories.

At the present moment, Cloud needed to find a gift for her to celebrate their first anniversary. It was bad enough that he had waited until the absolute last minute, but he was already really bad at this kind of stuff. Toeing at Fenrir's kickstand, Cloud turned over options of meaningful gifts for Tifa - jewelry, fragrances, flowers - but nothing really seemed quite right.

Cloud rode Fenrir a few blocks from the warehouse into Junon's business district, pulling the motorcycle into an angled parking space along the main thoroughfare. This part of the city was awash with retail shops and local entertainment, and Cloud leaned back on Fenrir's seat as he glanced up and down the block, trying to determine, without much luck, where to even begin.

Sighing at his ineptitude, Cloud swung his legs over Fenrir's seat, dropped the kickstand, and began to make his way along the cobblestone street, weaving his way around people who moved through the city about their own business. His eyes scanned across every business he passed - clothing stores, chocolatiers, department stores - but nothing jumped out at him enough for him to chance a stop inside. It all seemed too generic, boring, typical - Tifa was special and unique, and he wouldn't be satisfied until he could find something that was just as extraordinary as she was.

Cloud's frustration was wearing into him, creasing his brow as he crossed another block. He was considering doubling back and taking his chances at a jeweler he'd passed a few blocks back, when his eyes caught sight of a large wooden sign that was carved in the shape of a pair of semiquavers, hanging over a storefront that read Melodica Exotica.

Cloud felt a scraping at the back of his brain. Tifa loved music - she had a generous album collection, and Cloud often caught her doing her cleaning, her bookkeeping, or her restocking work with her earbuds in her ears, melodies from her PHS guiding the rhythm of her movements. And Cloud remembered her piano - the one in her room in Nibelheim, the one he had seen her play on only once, the one he had fiddled on once during their journey almost a decade ago when they'd returned to the town, only to find it a sanitized replica of their memories.

The jolt of memories painted a vivid image of his wife in his mind's eye, and he felt suddenly like part of her had slipped somewhere beside him, edging him on. Nodding inwardly to himself, he took a few strides across the street and entered the small shop.

The interior was small, the walls painted in dark purples and cramped with shelves. The center of the shop was splintered by rows of cases that were stacked with vinyls and CDs. Across the room, there was a small counter and register, with a young woman standing behind it. Overhead, the melody of a soft rock ballad that Cloud couldn't exactly place was playing in the shop's Muzak system.