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Sunset,
Tifa is down by the river doing her best to untangle her messy hair. Before washing it up there was more blood, sweat and old rotten leaves than actual hair (fighting and running and sleeping next to campfires) and it took her and Yuffie almost an hour to get the worst gunk out.
Yuffie’s sitting a couple of meters away, leaned against an old oak. She’s been finished and all clean for ages, and now she’s idly pulling up handfuls of dry grass and mostly not looking at Tifa and mostly not thinking anything, really, and time passes slowly.
“Such a lovely sunset, ” Tifa says, which grabs Yuffie’s attention – and indeed it is. If your mind works like that you might even find the scenery romantic; the sky is painted deliciously pink and the lightest of blue and golden orange, and there is only the fiery meteor to mar its beauty
– but Yuffie’s not really watching the sky, not now when she has the opportunity to unguardedly observe Tifa for a few precious seconds
and then Tifa sighs and stands up and it is time to get back to the Highwind and all the troubles of the world again and Yuffie quickly follows, pushing herself up from the ground
and Tifa accidentally brushes her hand against Yuffie’s arm which sends all sorts of tingles through Yuffie
and then the moment has passed and Tifa runs ahead, teasingly calling Yuffie a slowpoke
not that she minds
’cause she can watch Tifa a little while longer this way.