Serendipity
The bell above the door jingled softly as Tifa Lockhart opened her café for the day. Seventh Heaven was more than just a business—it was her refuge, her home. Nestled in the heart of Midgar’s Sector 7, it stood out among the concrete jungle as a haven of warmth and familiarity. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and buttery croissants filled the air as Tifa went about her morning routine, flipping chairs off tables and wiping down the counters.
Running the café had become second nature, a comforting rhythm that carried her through the chaos of daily life. Tifa was someone who found solace in hard work, someone who poured her heart into making her corner of the world a little brighter. Yet lately, she’d felt an itch she couldn’t scratch, a quiet longing for something beyond the comforting walls of her café.
It was that yearning that had led her to the ballet.
---
The first time Tifa had attended Dawn’s Bloom, she had gone out of curiosity, prompted by a friend’s recommendation. “You need to see it,” her friend had insisted, “Aerith Gainsborough is absolutely incredible.”
Tifa hadn’t known what to expect, but the moment Aerith stepped onto the stage, she was captivated. The ballerina moved like poetry in motion, her every step and gesture imbued with grace and emotion. The way she floated across the stage, her movements delicate yet powerful, had left Tifa breathless.
Aerith’s performance wasn’t just beautiful; it was transformative. There was something in the way she danced that felt deeply personal, as if she were baring her soul to the audience. Tifa had returned for every subsequent performance, always sitting in the same seat near the stage, her eyes glued to the ethereal figure who seemed to command the very air around her.
Yet, Tifa kept her admiration at a distance. It wasn’t just about Aerith’s beauty or talent; it was the way she made Tifa feel—like there was more to life than routines and responsibilities. Still, Tifa wasn’t the type to act on fleeting emotions, no matter how strong they were.
---
Aerith Gainsborough stood backstage, the lingering applause from her latest performance echoing in her mind. She clutched her ballet slippers in one hand, her chest still rising and falling from the exertion of the show. Performing always left her exhilarated, but tonight, a quiet uncertainty crept into her thoughts.
“Was it enough?” she whispered to herself, the question hanging in the air.
The life of a ballerina was a constant push and pull between passion and doubt. Aerith loved the stage, loved the freedom it gave her to express herself, but she couldn’t escape the pressures that came with it. Critics, directors, and even her own perfectionism often left her feeling like she was teetering on the edge of inadequacy.
Still, there was one thing that kept her grounded—the audience. She found solace in their reactions, in the way her art could move people. And among the sea of faces, there was one she couldn’t help but notice: a quiet woman with dark hair and warm eyes who always sat in the same seat.
Aerith had spotted her several times now, her presence steady and comforting, like a lighthouse in a storm. She wondered who this woman was, what had drawn her to the ballet time and time again. There was something about her that Aerith found intriguing, something that made her want to know more.
---
It was a quiet evening at Seventh Heaven when Aerith walked through the door. Tifa was behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine, when the familiar sound of the door chime drew her attention.
She looked up—and froze.
Aerithstood in the doorway, her pink coat dusted with light raindrops and her scarf loosely draped around her neck. She looked different without the stage lights, more approachable yet no less radiant.
“Hi,” Aerith said, her voice soft and melodic. “Am I too late for a coffee?”
Tifa snapped out of her daze, her heart pounding. “Not at all. Come in.”
Aerith smiled and stepped inside, her eyes sweeping over the cozy interior. The café was mostly empty, save for a couple seated by the window. Tifa watched as Aerith took in the mismatched chairs, the bookshelves filled with secondhand novels, and the string lights twinkling along the ceiling.
“This place is lovely,” Aerith said as she approached the counter.
“Thanks,” Tifa replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “What can I get you?”
Aerith tilted her head, considering. “What would you recommend for someone who just spent the last three hours dancing?”
Tifa chuckled softly, her nerves easing slightly. “Definitely something sweet. Maybe a caramel latte?”
“That sounds perfect.”
As Tifa prepared the drink, she couldn’t help sneaking glances at Aerith, who was now browsing a small stack of books near the counter. There was an ease to the way Aerith moved, a quiet confidence that was both intimidating and inviting.
When the latte was ready, Tifa set it down carefully. “Here you go.”
Aerith took a sip and sighed contentedly. “This might be the best thing I’ve had all day.”
Tifa felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”
They fell into a conversation that felt surprisingly natural. Aerith asked about the café, and Tifa shared the story of how she’d started it. Aerith talked about her passion for ballet, her voice lighting up as she described the thrill of performing. Tifa found herself captivated, not just by Aerith’s words but by the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke.
As the evening wore on, Aerith glanced at her watch and reluctantly stood. “I should probably head out. But… I think I’ll be back. This place feels like home.”
Tifa’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re welcome anytime.”
As the door closed behind Aerith, Tifa leaned against the counter, a small smile tugging at her lips. For the first time in a long while, she felt that spark of something new, something that made her look forward to tomorrow.