[She remembers what Aerith had said to her the first night Tifa moved in, when they had talked about finding a happiness that they both deserved. Nodding, Tifa swirls the contents of her cup, watching the lights above ripple in the amber drink, before she sets it down. She had taken those words to heart too, for a while, but had allowed herself to give in, and she had hoped that Aerith wouldn't listen to those doubts echoing in the back of her mind... Tifa can't help but feel a little guilty—how can she sit back and be happy when Aerith wasn't?
She wants to help, if only Aerith would let her...]
Is it, though? You don't seem all that happy about it.
[She's doing the same thing Tifa would do—overworking, hardly eating, focusing on everything but the real issue. She can recognize it a mile away.]
You were happier back then, when he was staying with us.
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She wants to help, if only Aerith would let her...]
Is it, though? You don't seem all that happy about it.
[She's doing the same thing Tifa would do—overworking, hardly eating, focusing on everything but the real issue. She can recognize it a mile away.]
You were happier back then, when he was staying with us.