"What shall I bless you with, friend?" she asked, gently placing a hand on each of his shoulders.

Unaccustomed to the touch, he struggled to keep from pulling away. "Survival."

"Wise. Then, Vincent, I bless you with the gift of survival."

.

Little affected the solid atmosphere of Cosmo Canyon. The constant rotation of new, studious faces had ceased years ago. Its current inhabitants had readily accepted a life of simplicity, happily relying on the planet to provide for them. In return, they cared immensely for the ground on which they lived. People tended to themselves, and often left others in peace, as peace served as the main goal for most of the natives. They cherished quietude and reflection as the purest paths to inner tranquility. Yet, one never felt overlooked when on that red plateau. The village had a way of making one feel protected without ever hearing another's voice. It did not need to ask what had brought its visitors. It had a way of simply knowing. And it knew why one man sat alone, staring into its legendary fire, a small black box in hand. He had come for peace of his own, and hoped that the same would be found for his counterpart.

Attaining peace meant quieting voices in memories that still haunted him. The woman he had left sleeping alone had silenced them not long ago, lifting the familiar weight from his chest. She had led him across the globe in the last two years, enlisting him to aid in evading Shinra as they hunted down a rogue Officer, then engaging the company in handing over what remained of Jenova. She had tied him to her, igniting a passion once thought long dead, and then forced him to abandon her to fight the Remnants. He had felt a darkness nearly overtake him as he mourned her, and allowed himself to release her into the lifestream. And he reassembled his beliefs when she sauntered back into his life, a phoenix from its ashes.

As the pair had settled into a life of regularity, the ethereal sounds of another's voice returned. They came softly, slowly at first, then increased in intensity until he slept only two hours at a time. Soon, images long burned into his mind accompanied them, leaving him to stare blankly out at the cityscape of Edge until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. She had a way of bringing him back to reality, but the process had grown more challenging. Violet eyes tried to hide a sad understanding of his distant stares, but he saw easily through the facade, eventually finding her in occasional trances of her own. The pair maneuvered conversations around the lapses. She found an easy distraction in the black box.

He remembered the day with crystal clarity. The apartment was quieter than usual when he walked in. A package had been delivered for him, and sat, unopened on the kitchen counter. It was a new pair of black leather gloves. Aria had teased him for not shopping in public, and quickly received a lesson on the importance of customization in such accessories.

"One cannot assume an item designed for the masses will fit perfectly on anyone."

"So you order them by...finger length?" she teased.

"The manufacturer does not sell in Edge," he had replied, attempting to shut down the topic. She had had one more jab left.

"Couldn't save money by just ordering...one?"

The silence that followed built tension, until he finally answered, "I've tried. It's not an option."

He remembered her laugh, and grinned himself. It faded as his mind backtracked to the original memory.

The apartment was filled with fresh air, a light breeze coming from the opened balcony door. He stepped toward it and stopped, watching Aria discover his stowed belongings. He grinned and shook his head at her curiosity, then left for the bedroom to change clothes. When he returned, she had opened the bottom compartment of the accessories case and now stood, frozen on the balcony. Had she left the white cape where it lay, he would have watched her try on his battle equipment all afternoon. But she did not. Instead, his eyes flashed wide as they fell upon the black box in her palm.

"Careful, Pandora."

Only when he finally blinked, did Vincent realize he had been staring into the Cosmo Flame for too long. His eyes burned as he held them shut. A face far softer than Aria's appeared, as it so often did, and he shook it away.

"Will you return to Midgar? To the ruins?" a comforting, familiar voice asked. Nanaki approached his side and sat, staring into the fire.

Vincent nodded once, his answer not one with which he was pleased.

"What do you think you will find?" Nanaki pressed. "Or perhaps I should ask, what do you hope to find?"

"Those questions do not warrant the same answer. I hope to find nothing. I hope to find all access to the headquarters blocked, and the building completely unoccupied." He paused, reflecting on a news broadcast he had heard earlier. The sixth in a series of disappearances took place at the former Shinra Headquarters in the remains of Midgar. According to one military search and rescue team member, civilians have been drawn to the condemned structure by abnormal sounds that seem to emanate from the building.

"But?" asked Nanaki, waiting for the man's prediction.

"But...I fear it will not be that easy."

Nanaki dropped his head slightly. "I can understand any resentment you may have for me. My words have led Aria to connect her sister's disappearance with Project G. And now you are pulled right back into Shinra's shadow."

Vincent shook his head and faced Nanaki. "Do not apologize. You have given her hope."

"Yes. But often, hope is the heaviest weight to bear."

An absence of sleep had led him to the fire, where he spent the remainder of the evening staring into the flames and watching faces of the past stare back at him. The sun rose lazily from beyond the canyon walls, lighting the village one structure at a time. He did not know that, as it poured into the room he had abandoned at the inn, it fell upon lavender eyes that had also stared the whole night through, mourning the loss of simplicity.

.

The door creaked timidly under a brassy hand. When he entered the silent room, his shoulders relaxed, only to tense again under Aria's unexpected gaze.

"You're up early," he noted, closing the door behind him.

She nodded, pushing herself slowly up on the bed. "Thinking."

He nodded once in understanding and sat on the far edge of the bed.

"I want to go to the old HQ. I want to know what's going on, why people are going missing. Regardless of my...family history...I think this needs to be brought directly to Rufus. He should have people patrolling, investigating, and he doesn't."

"It's likely they believe it's just a gang..."

"Like a gang of, say, terrorists? Gosh, that can't possibly be a threat, right?" she asked jokingly. He raised his eyebrows and conceded the point. She continued. "A little research can't hurt. Maybe...maybe that Restrictor guy was a nut. Someone who, I don't know, worked for the company once, knew who I was..." she trailed. He picked up for her.

"Maybe not."

She rubbed her eyes, and through that gesture, he noticed the slight slump of her shoulders, as if they carried a fresh weight. The unspoken agreement to cut the trip had already been made, but they both dragged their feet upon leaving the warm village. A handful of goodbyes prolonged the process minimally, and before long, the pair were crossing into Edge. The city did not welcome them home. A rare Spring downpour had slowed traffic in the area, and by the time they crossed the threshold of their flat, each had grown exhausted and agitated. The tension was relieved slightly by the appearance of a long garment bag draped across the dining table.

Dripping with rain, Aria looked to Vincent, who shook his head. She dropped her own bag to the floor and approached the table, running her fingers along the gold piping on the bag.

"This is a Garatzo bag."

The information did nothing to dispel Vincent's concern. The name was not familiar. As recognition settled in, Aria's shoulders dropped in relief.

"Reno. The Spring Gala. We agreed to go."

"You agreed to go," he corrected.

"Yes, I did." She unzipped the bag and pushed the black fabric apart, revealing a slender, floor-length gown made of black silk. Emerald accents streaked across the length of the dress, similar to the original color of her old motorcycle. The comparison made her grin.

"It's an opportunity to talk to...some old friends. Maybe rebuild some bridges, should we need them."

"At what cost?" Vincent questioned, his skepticism lingering in the air long after he left the room.

In under a minute, the master suite's shower was warming while Vincent peeled off his own wet clothing. Upon stepping into the water, his shoulders dropped in relaxation. He breathed deeply as the smell of city air left his hair for the drain, and relaxed into the cool tile wall, eyes closed in a rare, blissful thoughtlessness.

As he sank further into the soft darkness, the muscles in his lower back began to tense. Straightening his spine, he turned his back to the hot water, expecting the tension to ease. Instead, it slowly spread upward, the dull ache growing in intensity as it crept upward like vines, locking him into place. The familiarity of the ache send a wave of panic through him as he fought for control of his muscles. As he opened his eyes, his vision blurred, then gave way to a pure whiteness, blinding him.

The swing of the door pulled him back to reality, red eyes flashing open in hyperconsciousness. The scenery had changed from the shower wall to the seam of the wall's connection with the tub. The heat of the water told him he had not been out long.

"Did you just fall?"

Aria's voice contained both concern and amusement. He used the latter to his advantage.

"A less-than-graceful seating."

"Oh. A controlled fall."

"Yes."

"In the shower."

"Yes."

"Are you hurt?"

Yes. "No."

A single laugh signaled her departure, and the door closed behind her. He slid upright, hugging his knees into his chest, taking a series of deep breaths. The trip to Cosmo had not resulted in the rest he was hoping for, and this, he figured, was the price of exhaustion. The thought was not one of conclusion, but he settled for it.