A/N: This is a one-shot, although I may end up adding extra chapters they will be as drabbles. If I do add any they're likely to follow along the same vein as this one - Vinnie feeling glum, looking on his life with a bleak outlook, having some great atonement or something of the like - so yeah, that's about it... Enjoy? :)
The Great Atonement: By the Hero of the World.
In taking away that which we hold dear, we can insight a body to be more than he or she would be had they something to lose. We can achieve this to an equal degree by making so the things deemed as losable, and therefore weakening, are no longer losable, life for example. Make one an immortal, and loss of life shall not affect them. But as all things are and as everyone knows, everything comes at a cost, even Immortality. Immortality as a punishment is the most testing of all perhaps as there is much more that comes with this punishment than pure immortality. There is grieving to be done for the mortal, there is longing for an end, there is pressure and stress beyond that which the mind can cope with. The ability to die is not the only thing that is lost with immortality; the mind is also lost, choosing to forsake the body which will continue to live forever. Time loses all meaning and we cannot live amongst the living – those who value time so preciously – if time to us has no meaning. None know this more so than Vincent Valentine.
For 50 years he has not aged a day past 30. For 50 years he has mourned those he has lost. For 50 years he has refused to love another, fearing the day that they will leave him, either through incapability to cope with his seemingly eternal youth, or they themselves will simply age and die. Vincent is very aware of the effect he has on others, being an immortal is obviously very interesting, particularly in a society undisturbed by war, planetary collisions, military conspiracy and more. The simple fact that he cannot die would not surprise the youngest and most naive of children, but it would certainly interest them.
Naturally this 'affliction' allows Vincent the 'pleasures' often denied to other beings by fear of bad health – like smoking and drinking himself into a stupor without the after effects of lung cancer and the mother of all headaches, for example.
Letting out a sigh, Vincent removes the cigarette from his lips and blows a thin column of smoke out his open window. The streets of Kalm below him are brightly lit and music fills the air. The celebrations are justified he feels – Shinra's final penetration was all over the news anyway – but he couldn't find it in himself to join them. The years haven't been all that kind to him, but he would much rather sit in his home – a reasonable place for him to be – than wander aimlessly through the much quieter streets of the town in search of some unknown solace.
He can imagine that Midgar would be in the same state of euphoria and the 7th heaven would be jam-packet around now. Tifa would love the business, but she'd push herself to the limits to make the most of the people's sudden good-spirit. The bar wouldn't be closed for the next week he could bet; perhaps he would pay a visit after the screaming cheering hordes had left the place in relative peace. He only hoped he didn't run into Yuffie.
It wasn't really that he didn't enjoy the company of the young girl – correction, young woman – but he would find himself dragged into all kinds of trouble, usually requiring him to either hide with her in a closet holding his breath so they wouldn't be caught by cloud – or whoever the incorrigible ninja had pulled a trick on this time – or he would feel her wrath afterwards because he'd "grassed her up" as Denzel or Marlene would say.
Lifting the cigarette back to his lips, he takes a long drag and reaches for his glass of red wine. Blowing the smoke out the window, he swirls the liquid in the glass. Red wine, something he finds he can relate to, gets better the longer you leave it in the bottle. He would like to think he's a much better person than he was when he started this stupid immortality lark, the presence of his friends and a certain little ninja he doesn't feel exactly falls into that category are the reasons for this new outlook on life.
Well in reality, he thinks as he sips at the wine appreciatively, he hasn't really got a new outlook on life so much as some perspective, which he has to admit he's been forced into by everything that went on around him. This new perspective does not exclude the view that he's a killer with nothing but base animal instincts left, but it does at least incorporate the idea that he's probably not entirely to blame for Lucrecia's untimely demise. Yuffie wouldn't agree if he told her. She would argue that he's not at all to blame for Lucrecia's very well timed demise and that should Vincent continue to profess otherwise she would shove her shuriken so far up his backside he wouldn't be able to sit down for the next month and a half.
So naturally he didn't tell her, as much as time really didn't matter all that much to him, and a month and a half wasn't all that long in comparison to eternity, having a Shuriken shoved up one's backside for that exact length of time couldn't be the most comfortable of plans ever to have graced mankind with its presence.
He supposes that if Lucrecia had ever met Yuffie, she would hate the girl. Not because Lucrecia hated a lot of people or was nasty at all, but simply because Yuffie stole and played tricks and anyone foolish enough to stand too close to her would very soon find themselves swept up into some stupid plan of hers. That or they would have to check every single thing they owned in fear of having been robbed.
It troubled Vincent greatly to think that maybe one day he would have sided with Lucrecia without a second thought, being so utterly in love with her that he wouldn't even attempt to open his own eyes and see Yuffie for himself. Now though – and this was the troubling thing – he found he enjoyed Yuffie's company more than he could remember ever having enjoyed Lucrecia's. He wasn't in love with Yuffie, not by a long shot, he was old enough to be her grandfather, but she eased the pain. He got so worked up and annoyed at her stupidity and thievery – particularly when he was the victim of her predatory nature – that he entirely forgot about his angry face and uncaring silence. He could still remember the grin she wore when he first snapped at her about stealing his gun. The whole room had gone silent as his hand clamped shut around her wrist, tugging her back so they were nearly a foot away and he could tell her off – loudly – for his missing gun. Not an ounce of fear could be found in those plum-brown eyes of hers and he thought that maybe that's the reason he had shouted at her like that.
The stupid girl was always getting herself into trouble without a care in the world, even that time she nearly cut her entire leg off trying to steal materia from a dragon. There had been so much blood and the veins were hanging out like strings from a puppet and she had simply laughed. He couldn't find it in himself to shout at her then, only managing to find enough strength to wrap up the leg and carry her back to the WRO headquarters piggy-back style. It hadn't taken long for them to heal her leg, 3 hours around, working carefully and attentively so as not to leave a scar. He hadn't moved from his spot by the door in all that time.
His glass of wine finished, Vincent stood from his bed and went to leave the glass in the sink. He stubbed his cigarette out on the drainer – a habit he had retained from his days as a Turk – and reached for where his cloak was slung over one of the two kitchen chairs. Yuffie had insisted he get two so she could have somewhere to sit when she came to pester him.
He walks to his front door and leaves, not caring to lock the door as he closes it behind him – he'd catch and kill anyone stupid enough to try and steal from his home. Bypassing the night's excitement, he takes the road out of the town and heads for the hills, where the caves are. So, he may not be able to spend time with the living, rambunctious people he shares this planet with, and he may enjoy Yuffie's company much more than he ought and more than he enjoyed that of Lucrecia's, but he's allowed to love her, even if all he can love is her crystalline form.
The cave is just as blue as he remembers it, but the crystal has changed. It doesn't take him long to see the bit of paper tacked in front of Lucrecia's face and with a bound and a growl he rips it off.
Dearest Vamp-man,
I have taken the liberty of murdering your store of
materia and I hope you'll understand that I need it for a good cause.
Hope you're not too down my little goober,
Love Love, Yuffie xxxx
For a moment, all Vincent can do is stare at the paper, caught in a confusing mixture of anger – part for the unpleasant nick-names, part for the 'murdering' of his materia, and part for the fact that Yuffie actually had the gall to stick her little note to Lucrecia's face – but eventually he just lets the paper fall to his side, returning to his usual spot and rested his elbow on his bent knee. Even here in the luminescent, ethereal glow of the Mako crystal, he can find no peace. She always finds a way to get under his skin, ruining his great atonement...
A/N: Thoughts? prompts?
-Okami
