Final Fantasy VII Oneshots and Drabbles

Pandemic [Tifa/Reader]

It was declared a pandemic, the stigma. The news had reported just an hour ago that people in Wutai were starting to come down with the disease. True, it really started in Midgar, but with how it spread on opposite sides of the globe, it seemed to have started everywhere.

Social isolation didn't work. People who had absolutely no contact with people came down with the illness. People thought it was contracted from each other. That the wicked were the ones that became infected with the disease. But that was back when it was still called Midgar Pox. Now, it's a stigma. The wicked have it, but that's not really true.

The orphanage had an outbreak. It claimed the lives of far too many children. Their immune systems were weaker and couldn't fight it off. They were all laid to rest in a mass grave. Flowers from Aerith's church and house were planted around the grave in hopes that they would be reunited with their past family or each other before returning to the planet.

Tears fell down your face as you watched a child collapse on the floor and suffer a seizure. His body spasmed and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Black ooze seeped from his open wounds. As his body started to still, he wheezed for air. Your hand clutched onto his. You could feel his pulse weakening. It was going to be any second before he too returned to the planet.

--

"Researches have discovered that patients with a certain amount of proteins are more susceptible to a cytokine storm: where immune cells flood and attack the body to try and get rid of the virus."

"Please," you gasped out, trying to keep the dam from breaking. "Turn off the television. I can't take it anymore."

The television turned off. Shortly afterward, a ruby liquid in a shot glass was placed in front of you. You looked up to see Tifa's red eyes watching you. They weren't as strikingly red as Vincent's, but they were still there.

"Another one die?" she asked with caution.

"The orphanage is no longer." You slammed the liquid to the back of your throat. It stung and tasted like poison. You almost wish it was. "The orphans that are still around left out of fear. Now, the orphanage is just one huge fucking graveyard."

Tifa's eyes glanced towards the bandages covering your hand. The burst blisters were hidden from the world behind the slowly reddening white linens.

"I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"It's nothing you did."

Tifa placed a hand over yours. "It was nothing you did, either." You held your head down, refusing to meet her eyes. "Don't blame yourself, [Y/N]. All we can do is keep strong and carry on. A cure will be found."

"How do you know that?" You looked up at her with tears streaming down your face. She squeezed your hand and smiled softly at you.

"Cloud promised."