A follow up ficlet to the Tifa drabble from my last post. Set a few years later.
Title: Untitled Author: silara Rating: PG Characters: Tifa, Tazuna, mentions of others. Warnings: None, unless you count minutiae innuendo by pervy old men. Summary: Tifa reminisces.
Tifa sat behind the bar as she polished a glass absentmindedly, her thoughts elsewhere. Her younger brother Haku was in the back, helping her earn money by washing dishes; she gave a small, sad smile at the thought.
It had been a handful of years since the death of their parents, and now the two were living in Wave Country. When the village had found out about what had happened to their parents, the siblings had been forced to flee the country, barely managing to catch a ship to the closest non-aligned country: Wave. They struggled to survive after that, Tifa being scarcely into her teens at the time.
The glass in her hands began to frost over at that thought, the temperature around her cooling considerably.
It wasn’t until they reached the village they currently lived in, that they found someone to take them in. He was an older man by the name of Zangan, and he ran the bar that they were working in. What most didn’t know, however, was that he was a powerful martial artist, and that during their spare time when the bar was closed, he taught the two orphans how to fight.
They still didn’t quite know how to use their ‘gift,’ though, as Zangan was not a shinobi by any means.
She finished with the glass, setting it with the other clean ones, and used the rag to clean up an alcohol spill. Looking over at one of her regular patrons, who was looking more than a little drunk, she said, “Perhaps you should head home, Tazuna-san.”
“I’m a super bridge builder!” the old man slurred indignantly. “I know my limits! ‘Sides, Kaiza needs some time alone with Tsunami, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, of course,” she said in fond exasperation, shaking her head slightly, even as she noted the suspicious looking men that had just entered the bar.