R for language and material to come.

Disclaimer: Squaresoft is pretty. Too pretty. So pretty that I am not worthy. Not worthy, I say! Therefore I do not own any of their cool stuff, like the toys and the Materia and the people, and Vincent and the cities and the names… and Vincent. You know the drill.

Chapter 1

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The clerk stacked the parcels neatly atop of one another, marking the price tag on each of them. Swiftly, he noted the gil required and calculated the sum in his head, trusting his mathematical skills. There was no time to double check or consult his assistant, for neither was possible. The shop was packed, the air thick with recycled air and body heat of bustling customers. He could feel the sweat gathering under his arms and collar, the temperature seeming to rise with each new purchase that was brought to him. His ears rang with the hum of conversation, various opinions and choices being shouted across the small boutique. The sounds reverberated, multiplying them several times their actual volume. None of these details were any relief to his now-throbbing headache. Ceela had returned home early after her fever rose above a comfortable level. It was his own decision, but he was beginning to long for her assistance. The familiar assembly line formed by their teamwork had been reduced to a single middle-aged man working his ass off behind a slab of a counter.

"That'll be 650 gil, sir. It's discounted due to the weather", he spoke with his well-rehearsed, 'don't-I-sound-freakishly-cheery?' tone, then handed the brown-wrapped package to the customers awaiting arms.

Without a word of thanks, the man scooped up his recent purchase and disappeared from sight. The clerk stole a sigh, letting his aching shoulders slump as the heat pressed against him like a giant muffler. The voices seemed to prattle on eternally behind him.

"...Storm of the decade, I hear."

"Seven inches in the past two hours! It's unheard of!"

"...Sweet Shiva..."

"...Was bound to happen."

"It's a good thing, I think."

"Shut up and get in line!"

"...Gotta get these clothes home to my family."

"I ain't freezin'. No sir."

"The hell? You're wearing spandex! Not even Ifrit could run into this storm and survive, much less with spandex!"

And it continued on, and on and on. He yearned for these people to cease their bickering just buy the damned sweaters. He needed to leave before the snow reached the windows, or else he'd be camping out with the mannequins. He seized the lull to steal a glance outside. A torrent of frosted air spun the snow up and around in vicious whirlwinds, frosting the glass and wedging between the panes. He shivered despite the unbearable warmth within. Merely thinking about the trek home was painful enough. Those four blocks were beginning to seem like miles, now that he faced a rapidly darkening horizon. Leviathan, if he ever got out of here...

"Hey, there ... uh ...buddy? Y'ello?" An inquisitive voice called from the opposite side of the counter, reeling him in from his split-second retreat.

His eyes took a moment to adjust to a much less frequent type of customer. From the looks of the woman, no, girl, she had to be very nomadic. A quick sweep from head to toe only strengthened his assumption, noting the disheveled, oddly styled garments. Finally they settled on her eyes- correction, eye, for there appeared to be only one. If there was a second, he could not tell, for a loosely draped cloth obscured the right side of her face. It was very similar to an eye patch, he considered, only very curtain-y and lacking the patch effect. Its presence offered him a single grayish eye to meet, leaving him feeling slightly awkward. Still, at least there -was- an eye.

He found his usual tone and offered this girl the last of his smiles, "Forgive me. Did you find everything okay?"

Uncertainty melted from her face, disappearing like a fleeting thought. Two gloved hands pushed a bundle of thick sweaters and a scarf towards him.

"Yes, I did, thank you. No apology necessary." She hastily tucked a rather long pock of hair behind her frostbitten ear and away from her good eye. "Can you leave these unwrapped? I'd like to wear them out."

"No problem," he spoke as he separated the two sweaters and scarf. In no time, he had the final price all added up in his head. Damn, he was good at this.

"That' 576 gil, miss", he looked up, his weak smile still quirking tired lips.

However, her own mouth twisted into a frown. Oh, he had an idea as to what the problem was. She emptied a pouch at her waist, handing over what seemed to be all of her funds. "I have 200. What'll that get me?"

Already, he was beginning to pity this girl. He had no such liberty to give merchandise away, but the weather was horrendous. "The black scarf, miss..."

"I'll take it," came her instant reply. She counted out the proper fee and slid it across the counter with a sweep of her hand. Before the clerk could even collect it, she was already wrapping the meager strip of flannel around her neck. After a moment of staring at her blankly, he realized that this young woman was about venture out into the frigid cold armed with that single scarf. The rest of her attire appeared to have been thrown together in the dark, hardly strong enough to defend flesh against the deadly ice winds of the snowy plains. She scooped up whatever gil she had left and pulled her dismembered sleeves in a futile attempt to gain more protection. With a swift pivot, she turned her back towards him and began to weave her way through the remaining crowds, glimpses of tiny braids appearing with each movement.

The clerk opened his mouth to protest, "Wait! Maybe I can-!" The bell chimed as it bounced against the wooded doorframe, tinkling as it shut, marking her exit.

She was gone and the thick wool sweaters sat abandoned on the counter. Perhaps, he thought, the girl had a place at the inn. The moment the idea slipped into his head, the more assured of it he became. Yes, that seemed logical. The Inn was popular with tourists and visitors. In fact, it was most likely the dire reason people ventured into this quaint town. No thick-skulled, dim witted, muscled dolt would even think about wandering into that blizzard. The young woman seemed far too young to consider such a feat. He returned to his business.

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Chapter Two: In progress

Author Notes: Edits to come. Slow start, yeah, but this is my first. I'm not big on the idea of using complete canon casts. Original characters are more fun for me and make more of a case of the rest of you. To the supportively criticizing ones, please give me all the feedback you can offer. You'll get more of a character image in the next chapter. As for you prejudice haters, keep your flames to yourself and just bitch amongst each other. Thank ya. ^_^