[ Tifa has never understood that particular power of hers, to speak things into being because other people believe them when she says them. But she does believe this. She has to. That's how she survives.

At least this one isn't sad. ]

I think maybe that's just life. It's always some kind of cage. You can't let that stop you from living, you know? Or else...what's the point of any of this?

[ She's maybe uncharacteristically melancholy. Or maybe honest. It's easy, to actually say what she thinks with him, not have to be the rock and the smile. She doesn't notice it, but she appreciates it. Like she's setting down a weight she doesn't realize she's carrying.

And she really does smile when he says that. It's one thing to think it herself, but to have him value it too -- things are weird between them. There's still...things she should ask him from home. But he's showed up for her. And that matters.

That question, though, makes her falter. She's glad for her hand on his leg, because this isn't something she's admitted to anyone. ]

I don't...know anymore. And that scares me. I used to think I just...wanted to get Seventh Heaven rebuilt as soon as possible. Help as many people who survived the plate...and I don't not want that I just...I've never had time to think about life outside Sector 7, or Nibelheim before that. I've always been trying to just keep above water. If I really could do anything with my life...I don't know. And I don't like not knowing.

[ She didn't mean to talk that much, and she looks back at him and her eyes widen slightly in embarrassment. ]

Or -- did you mean with...us?