A/N: I know all of you were expecting another Naruto fic but... I'm sick to death of Naruto right now. Bold text is one of the demons talking, with the exception of Yuffie's text, italics is someone thinking.

Disclaimer: I don't own jack squat.

Letting Go


Time flowed differently for someone like Vincent Valentine. He literally had all the time in the world, and yet it slipped by either too fast or too slow. Each snowflake that fell outside his window sometimes fell in slow motion, his sharp gaze analyzing each one as it fell. People walking the streets below glided one by one down the sidewalk, footprints slowly filled by the steady snowfall. A peaceful scene like this was but one of many he had slowly grown accustomed to in the six months since Bahamut SIN had devastated the central monument in Edge. His breath fogged the glass in front of him, miniscule droplets condensing on the slick surface.

A light buzz in his pocket startled him from his reflections, still caught off guard every time his phone rang or received a text. I swear I'll never get used to these damn things. He took it out, holding it at a safe distance as he looked at the screen. Group Mtg at 7thH 5P 4all. Just by looking at it, he felt a headache threatening to form. I thought I barred you from ever calling my phone, Yuffie. Oh, wait this is... a text. I should have specified. He made a mental note to possibly bar any and all things coming to his phone from Yuffie, but then a text wasn't quite as bad as listening to her. I know it was you, too, only you could send something so poorly constructed as this message. I don't even know how to respond to this.

His loose black hair fell across his eyes as he shook his head. Though he didn't know what the meeting would be for, he would show up. It was something to do. Little by little, he found things to occupy his time. Ordinary, mundane things that others took for granted. Taking odd jobs for money, helping his old neighbor with her groceries, meeting up with the others on occasion when all of them were gathered here in Edge. This had been one of those times, everyone here for the holiday season. He was one of the three that still remained in Edge for the long term, mostly for lack of anywhere else he wanted to go. The rest was keeping an eye on Shinra.

He glanced at the analog clock across the room, the long hands boldly stating a quarter after three. Looking around his immaculate, under-furnished apartment, finding nothing to clean or fix, he was again at a loss for something to fill the time. Without being occupied, he knew it was all too easy to fall back into his guilty brooding. Despite all that he and the others had done, he still felt that he could have, should have done more to prevent all that he had unknowingly set into motion all those years ago.

The logical part of his mind told him that he couldn't have known what would become of Hojo's experiment, couldn't have known that someone like Sephiroth would have come of it. Nobody could have, it was an experiment after all. Still, he had known it could be dangerous, that it could result in any number of things. That, and he had genuinely cared for Lucrecia, and out of his real concern he should have done more to stop her, yet he had been unable to.

A minute ticked by on the clock, his reflections not helping him waste time until the meeting. Figuring at the very least he could help Tifa set up for the gathering, he left his apartment quickly, only pausing to put on his dark winter coat over his deep gray turtleneck sweater, slipping on heavy snow boots and stepping out into the sharp, awakening cold. It wasn't a very long walk to the new location of 7th Heaven, but he walked leisurely to make himself look less desperate for a change in scenery. Edge wasn't exactly scenic right now anyway, but it had made great strides in the years after Meteor. The geostigma issue had been cured but there was still much left to be done.

From the outside, the bar didn't look like much, just as beat up as everything else, only its sign showing its identity. He knew, though, that once inside, everything would be different. When he was actually inside, however, it wasn't the kind of different he had remembered. True, he had not come here in a good few months, but this was very odd.

Dirty glasses and plates were piling up in the sink, sometimes not even picked up from the outer tables. The floor looked unswept, the tables somewhat displaced. As for the woman who had previously kept everything spotless despite the nature of a bar environment, she looked worn and tired, almost haggard. Tifa went about her job trying to smile to her customers, tending to their needs, but her lackluster smile didn't reach her eyes and she was clearly already tired. Though the bar was only open now for lunch and closed later for the meeting, it was still only the middle of the day.

She noticed him standing there in the doorway eventually, uncertain of where to go, and put down the empty glass she should have picked up an hour ago. "You're early." Her tone was polite and she attempted a small smile, looking up at him with false cheer. She could fool the usual bar patron, but not him, though he covered up his suspicions with practiced grace.

"I had thought you may need help preparing for the meeting later."

As expected, she pushed off the offer with a fake laugh. "I'm alright, I just need to clean up, maybe cook a little, set everything up. It's nothing I can't manage." His ruby eyes seemed to pierce straight through the lie, penetrating her shield until she crumbled under his gaze. "Alright, maybe I do need a little help." She almost squirmed when his gaze grew sharper. "Fine, a lot of help! I could really use your help right now."

"It is not a problem, Tifa," he said, already anticipating her fears. "I am glad to be of help in any way I can." Not giving her any time to protest, he grabbed a plastic bin, removed his coat and hung it on a peg by the door, and began bussing the dirty tables. Tifa knew by now not to argue when he was driven and determined to do something, and she went back to serving her customers. He worked quickly and efficiently but once in a while, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, listlessly picking at dried food on a plate or rubbing the same spot on a table, blanking out. It was never long enough for others to seem concerned, but it raised a few warning flags in the back of his mind.

When the clock struck four-thirty, all of the patrons slowly cleared out and he approached her, staring long and hard as she gazed sightlessly at a chip on the counter. He cleared his throat, startling her. "It is nearly time for the meeting. Go take a break, I will cook."

She blinked, confused, leaning back nonchalantly. "Since when do you cook?"

"I learned. Please, go rest before everyone gets here."

"Do I really look that horrible?" she asked, looking somewhat worried.

Recognizing this as what Cid referred to as a female's never-a-right-answer statement, he avoided a direct answer. "I know how hard you work each day and it is best to rest while you are able to."

She almost gave a real smile, only somewhat faded by whatever plagued her. "As long as you're sure..."

"I promise not to set your kitchen afire," he said with a very subtle touch of humor, finally winning the barest smile from her. Once she retreated back into the private area of the bar, he set himself to work finding pots and pans for one of a few recipes he had once memorized during one of his streaks of free time last month. He gave himself a mental nod, knowing one of those was one of her favorites. Maybe this would help cheer her up. Maybe it would give him even a small slice of purpose.

As the bar served meals as well as drinks, the kitchen was stocked with most of what he needed. A few substitutes would be needed, but it would be just fine. Chopped vegetables, chicken, even a can of pineapple went into the mix as he set the mildly spicy curry to stew on a back burner. The clock edged past four-fifty as the first of the group came into the bar.

"Dammit Shera, nobody's even here yet! I told ya it's fashionable to be late around here, nobody ever fucking shows up early!" Cid rounded the corner to the kitchen with Shera at his side, a proprietary arm around her waist. "What the hell's this, Valentine? You tryin' to poison us all? When the hell did you get here?"

Vincent turned around, holding out the spoon to offer him a taste. "It is far from being poison, Highwind, have a taste." He smirked to himself, knowing his subtle challenge wouldn't register.

"Oh no, no no, I'm not gonna fall for that shit! You eat it first!"

Shera rolled her eyes, taking the spoon with a huff. "Don't be ridiculous, Cid, he wouldn't poison us." Blowing on the curry to cool it before tasting, she hummed with delight as she savored the bite. "Oh, this is delicious, I need this recipe! Go on, try it," she said, taking another spoonful for Cid.

He grumbled, grudgingly taking the offending object. "Down the hatch, I guess. Nothin' else, we're both gonna die together." His eyes widened, however, when he tasted the curry. "This aint half bad, Valentine. Where'd you learn to be cookin' stuff like this?"

Vincent leveled him a half-hearted glare. "I would redirect you to a cookbook if I were more certain you could read."

"What the- That's it, Valentine, you're fucking dead!" Shera barely managed to hold him back, restraining him until he calmed down to speak in words and sentences. "Yeah whatever, you'll make a fine wife someday! Fuck, I need a smoke." He tore away from Shera's grip, slamming the door as he went outside.

"Don't mind him," she stated, turning to face him. "He's been a little on edge lately with all the repair jobs he's taken on. It's been very stressful."

Vincent only nodded, turning back to stirring the curry. "I won't antagonize him further. The others will arrive soon, please feel free to relax."

"I can't relax when there's so much to be done! I'll set up the tables and plates. Where's Tifa?"

"Upstairs resting. If you could help set up, I will mind the stove."

"Ah... sure." She suspected something might be wrong with Tifa, but she kept it to herself. Halfway through the setup, most of the others arrived, precisely a minute late. Tifa also emerged from the back, Marlene following behind her, drawn to the wonderful smell in the kitchen. Her mood had improved a little, and she put on a believably cheerful face for the others, but he could still see the lack of sparkle in her eyes. The reason for this quickly made itself blatantly clear, at least to him.

"Wow, that smells great! Looks like everyone is... where's Cloud?"

Yuffie came in from the doorway, sending off another text in a flurry. "He has that delivery job, right? I'm sending him another text."

"Didn't he have the day off?" Shera asked, puzzled.

"He didn't even answer my first text, I'm not sure he's even by his phone. Maybe he has some other job going?"

Tifa chewed her lip nervously, her eyes dimming further. "I know he has today off, he told me last week. Well... maybe he's just late."

Finally Barret couldn't stay quiet any longer and he banged the surface of a nearby table with frustration. "If he's late he can't damn well complain he missed anything! We're starting without him!" He fell with a heavy huff into one of the chairs around the large table, arms crossed imperiously. "Well, what are you all waiting for?"

Vincent spoke quietly into the tense silence. "Dinner is almost finished, why don't we start on a salad while we wait?"

Shera picked up on his tactics immediately, shooing everyone to the table as he quickly cut up lettuce, cucumbers and carrots into an impromptu salad. As he watched the woman start up a lively conversation, he mentally sighed. You owe me, Cloud, but you better show up soon. I can't stall them forever. He glanced up at the clock again. Five-fifteen. The salad was finished quickly, and he took a bit of extra time getting the bowls, staring at Yuffie until she helped him grab several types of dressing for the table. By the time everyone had finished their salads, his curry was fully cooked, steaming and served over rice on their plates. They gave up the pretense of waiting for Cloud, beginning the meeting over food.

Red XIII, now known as his real name Nanaki, perched awkwardly on a chair, doing his best to eat neatly. He paused briefly in his repositioning to speak. "What is this meeting for, Tifa?"

She had recovered from her gloomy expression when she had seen what was for dinner, her eyes lighting up slightly. Now she seemed more relaxed, though Cloud's absence clearly bothered her. "As you know, the holidays are coming and I would love to decorate the place. I was hoping I could turn this meeting into a decorating party!"

Yuffie jumped from her seat with a cheer. "Yes, time to wreck the halls! I mean deck the halls!"

"With you, girl, it's all one in the same," Cid remarked. Everyone laughed as she returned to her chair sheepishly.

"Do you have enough decorations?" Shera asked.

"I should. Everything from last year is in the attic, so I'll need everyone's help getting everything ready."

From her seat between Barret and Tifa, Marlene raised her small hand. "Oh, can I decorate the tree? Please?"

Barret chuckled, lifting her to his lap. "I don't know, do you think you can reach the star this year?"

"You can help me reach, right?"

"You bet I will, sweetheart, let's do a great job for Tifa."

Nanaki licked off his plate neatly as he responded. "I'm not sure how much help I would be, but I'll do what I can."

"Oh, I know," Shera said, "You have a good eye, Nanaki, why don't you make sure we're hanging the decorations straight?"

"That sounds like something I could do."

With a frown, Yuffie grumbled at her phone. "Bad news, guys, he's not coming."

Cid sneered. "Did he give a damn reason, at least?"

"No, just that he's not coming."

"That figures," Tifa spat, throwing her napkin on the table. "Well screw him, we'll have a fun decorating party without him!" Everyone looked somewhat unnerved by her unusually foul language and thinly disguised fury, but they were tactful enough to not say anything about it.

Yuffie saved the awkward silence, jumping to her feet with her usual enthusiasm. "Yeah, forget him, let's get the stuff out of the attic!"

The group dispersed, taking the plates to the sink and splitting into teams to handle the decorating. Cid and Barret hauled down the heavy boxes, Tifa and Shera hanging the garlands high on the ceiling rafters. Nanaki helped with critiquing the placement of the hangings while Vincent retreated to the kitchen to wash dishes. As he ran the hot water into the sink, rolling up his long sleeves, he felt a small tug at the edge of his pant leg.

"Uncle Vince, can I help?" Marlene looked up at him with a winning smile.

"Um..." He was caught off guard by the nickname she had given him, but he picked her up and sat her on the counter nearby. "Alright. How about I wash and you dry?" He knew that despite her young age, she had helped Tifa do the same thing before.

"I'm the best at drying!" She took the first dish with care, wiping it down as she looked at him curiously. "Why are you sad, uncle Vince?"

He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm not sad, I'm worried."

She nodded knowingly. "It's because Cloud isn't here."

"Tifa misses him, I'm worried because she is worried." He found it easier to talk with Marlene. She wasn't complex, still being a child, but she had an underlying maturity about her that accepted things that may have confused other children. At first, he didn't think much of anything of the girl. She was just Barret's charge. After the battle with Sephiroth, during the time when everyone was figuring out what to do with themselves now that they weren't in constant mortal danger, the six year old had inexplicably taken to him. Marlene had shown him things that others took as ordinary and unnecessary to explain – a cell phone, a microwave, a modern computer – and took his explanation of living in a very secluded place until now with hardly a blink. In a sense, they understood each other.

"Cloud doesn't come here much anymore," she said quietly.

His brow raised at that. "Where does he go?"

"Tifa says he has a lot of deliveries to make." With a pout, she took another bowl to dry. "But he said he would come today! He promised! Tifa made this party so everyone could see him!"

"Oh," was all he could manage. What could he say? On the best of days he wasn't very sociable, and now he withdrew. How could Cloud leave his dysfunctional but loving family behind all the time? Wasn't this what he had always wanted? I understand how disconnected you feel. I know what it's like to feel that you are simply existing rather than living. I know how it feels to lose someone you love, someone you thought would be with you forever. We are different, though. You still have someone in this world waiting for you, and I don't. He spared a glance at Nanaki, still checking the décor. Almost. I will still meet up with you, my friend, until you too pass into the lifestream.

"Look, the tree is so pretty!"

He looked up where the artificial tree – still something of a curiosity to him – had been set up. It looked bare. "I'm sure you can make it look better." Waiting for his nod, she hopped down from the counter and ran to decorate the tree while he finished up. Even now, two years after Meteor, six months after the geostigma crisis, he had to be cautious of his claw hand scratching nearby objects. The rag he was using was currently clutched with it, held cautiously as he tried not to rip it. True, the old thing was the most ragged cloth he could find, but he didn't want to make it even worse. His human hand took the washed plates, once again using his claw to dry. If he were to be honest with himself, he still wasn't completely used to his altered body. Curse you, Hojo. You may have died by my bullet but you still left quite a scar.

The dishes were soon finished, and he quietly cleaned up anything else he had missed before while everyone boisterously untangled the lights. Even though last year they had rolled up the strings neatly and carefully, they had somehow become just as tangled as before. Yuffie was more tangled up than any of them, and Shera wrapped more lights around the ninja's shoulders and turned on the lights with a grin. Marlene was lifted to place the star on Yuffie's head, much to her displeasure. She laughed, though, and he couldn't help the small smile on his face. How could you pass up something like this? It isn't exciting, I know, but it is such a precious thing to have in your gaze. There is so much I would have given back then just to have moments like this. I never thought my sacrifices would ever bear fruit, yet here you aren't and here I am.

Marlene came over to drag him back to the group, and he joined with only a mild reluctance. He drew the line at signing early carols, but he did not retreat back into the kitchen. Tifa did her best to act like nothing was wrong, but he hadn't been a Turk back in the day for nothing. His main priority back then had been investigation, and he had been damned good at it – so good he literally got caught up in the Jenova project he was supposed to research. The signs she showed were subtle, nothing standing out significantly, but he read them clearly. Her hand lingered as she brushed hair behind her ear – missing someone, obviously Cloud. A longing glance out the window – regret, remorse. Twirling a cup of tea – a length of time, probably long. Putting too much sugar in her tea... bitterness. Cloud hadn't been here in a long time and she was bitter and remorseful about it.