Bury Them.
"You are not an easy man to find."
Vincent looks up, reluctantly tearing his gaze from the surface of the Forbidden Lake. Tseng of the Turks stands not more than a few feet away, hands folded neatly behind his back, shoulders cutting a dramatic shape against the silver-blue moonlit night. He had heard the careless approach, of course, and stoically ignored it in the vain hope that he would left in peace.
"If you seek information-"
"No."
Vincent out-waits him, crimson eyes passive.
"I am here on behalf of Rufus Shinra, who wishes to extend his formal thanks for all you have done for the Corporation, and to apologise with sincerest regret for those transgressions made against your person."
The Turk bows from the waist, a gesture so antiquated it would have be ludicrous from almost any other human being. Vincent understands, however; the words, that is the Shin-Ra - we recognise our debt to you - but the bow, that is Tseng - thank-you, for saving my life. He feels a strange sort of pity for the Turk, for one so hopelessly deluded.
"Tseng… I have not acted out of loyalty to the Shin-Ra. Not once in my life." He pauses, as if breaking a harsh reality to a small child. "I did not help you and Elena because you are Turks."
"Your motives aside, the Corporation remains in your debt. We recognise this as a debt that cannot be repaid… as there is no way to undo what has been done."
Vincent moves swiftly to his feet, a blur of black and red, very suddenly very close to the Turk, who, to his credit, does not flinch in the slightest.
"You still fear Sephiroth, Tseng."
"You yourself know what it is to be betrayed by a lover."
The words are razor-sharp, a confrontation to match Vincent's own, and they have the desired effect. Vincent blinks, taking a half-unconscious half-step back. He lets the words slide over him; it is a subject he will not engage with - it is a subject not to be sullied with expression or worse, ridiculous comparison.
"You fear Sephiroth because you believe he is the undoing of Shin-Ra. You fear him as all fear him; as a threat to existence. But you, bringing me apologies for the Shin-Ra's transgressions, you forget that Sephiroth was created. And although you provided the opportunity and circumstance for his creation, the man truly responsible acted beyond your control."
"Hojo."
"Similarly my enemy has always been, and remains, Professor Hojo."
"You killed Hojo."
"As we killed Sephiroth? As Cloud Strife has killed him once again, and yet still you tremble at the name?"
"You… "
Tseng's vision blurs for a moment and his breath catches; a burning sensation crosses his chest, tracing the pale, precise scar from the Masamune. He remembers, an agonised night in this forest, the dark red sweep of a ragged cloak and gunshots. He remembers, the flash of an angular profile in the moonlight, Vincent's cold touch on his screaming skin and the same burn.
The same cold burn.
He stares at Vincent Valentine, one hand unconsciously clutching at the front of his shirt. He sees a familiarity in the half-hidden face, and when the other man speaks, - "Tseng," - the deep voice is so instantly recognizable that he closes his eyes and is ten years younger, strong and unscarred and in love with a silver-haired demi-God.
"Tseng. We will never bury them."
He chokes on the memory. Looks on Vincent Valentine with a new sense of wonder.
"Valentine… I hope… that you are wrong."