Using the original 100-themes challenge list.

Disclaimer: I haven't done the 100 themes challenge. I've read plenty that never quite get to 100, but I hope to make it that far. This may get fluffy. I don't own a darn thing. Each chap will have 3-5 themes or so to cut down on chapter amounts, and each theme is just a small short. The themes themselves may be taken in either a vague or literal sense so it might be subtle.

Theme 1: Introduction

Damp, dark and silent, they traversed into the fetid bowels of the Shinra mansion. Abandoned for years, it held secrets terrifying and grotesque. The cold basement was dank and smelled of various things they tried not to name, rocks and bone fragments crunching under their feet. Upstairs, the unusual safe had been difficult to open and the following battle left them weary, but the key to the basement had been a curiosity they just couldn't pass up. With a rusted, metallic click, the stubborn lock opened, the door swinging out with no small effort.

Stagnant air wafted out, though it wasn't much worse than what circulated in the long hallway. Not all of them could fit in the small room, only Cloud, Tifa and Red intrigued enough to come closer. The others watched from the hallway, taking in the dour scene. Cobwebs hung limply, spanning the corners of every surface, unknown stains covering the walls. Several coffins lay in the room, silent, and yet there was something unusual about the center one. Claw marks covered the edges, as if someone- or something- had been trapped inside, buried alive. Tifa, ever adventurous and insatiably curious, moved to open the lid, the others readying their weapons.

The lid of the coffin was abnormally heavy, braced against its unwilling guest, but her strength held and the lid slid aside. They were all shocked to see not a corpse, but a completely whole body. When his eyes shot open, crimson and glowing, he showed he was still very much alive. Startled, everyone drew back, more than ready to face him as a foe. Tifa was nearest, and she was the first to see his expression, regretful and sad. She relaxed, the others following suit as they saw he was not their enemy, looking on in confusion that someone like him would be in a place like this.

His eyes darted to each of them, taking them in as he adjusted to being awake after thirty long years. The woman stood the closest, her stance rigid and fearless. There was something admirable about her bravery, how she looked at him with only a steady caution. She didn't know what he was capable of, what he even was, yet she faced him with a straight back and set jaw. A man, the blond, wasn't far behind her, only a trace of fear in his expression. Fear of the unknown, maybe. Beside him, a creature he hadn't seen the likes of since he had been put in here, one eye scarred and a tattoo on his shoulder. An experiment of Hojo.

Anger built inside him as they explained their situation, and he his. Anger at himself, at Hojo, even at Lucrecia. He remained outwardly passive, cool exterior giving little away, though it was clear to any of them that he was troubled by their story. Sephiroth, alive and bent on destroying everything, the mad experiment going horribly right. It didn't take him long to reach a decision, his deep voice cutting through the long silence. "Very well. I will come with you. I will end that which I should have ended those many years ago." Nodding, he looked at each of them. "I am Vincent Valentine. Let me know how I may be of service."

In the back, some had relaxed, though they didn't speak. Each of them were coming to their own conclusions of the mysterious undead man, uncertain as he began to rise from the coffin. He expected nothing but revenge from this association with them, and wouldn't demand any aid in return. His duty was his own. When he opened his eyes to move, though, they flicked further open in surprise as a hand outstretched to help him. Locking gazes with whoever was so bold, he met the eyes of the woman from before. Her warm, wine-red eyes looked at him with a genuine kindness as she smiled. "We will be more than glad to have you with us, Vincent."

Staring down at her offered hand, unsure what to think, he began to reach for it but thought better and withdrew. Settling on a grateful nod, he extricated himself from his long-time prison. Only she had noticed his hesitation, her smile only growing at his little slip. He did what he could to regain his composure, straightening as he leaped from the coffin, long cape fluttering behind him as he followed them out into the free world. "Now... where are we headed?"

Theme 2: Complicated

Vincent watched from afar, the blaze of the campfire barely reaching him with its glow. It glittered in the glowing red of his irises, wild and feral in his otherwise vacant expression. He perched on a rock nearly in the brush, watching the others laugh and converse without involving him. It was safe, not knowing them, not being involved any farther than he needed. They were better off to forget him once it was all over, to feel little when his goal was achieved. When he lived on as they aged and died, he could feel nothing, no pain, no remorse. He could be empty eternally.

She was watching him. It had been plain for minutes now, though she was subtle enough that none of the others noticed. Observant as he was, he had noticed, and now he watched her back, the small challenge intriguing him. The silent contest dragged on, broken only when she turned her attention to her other friends. Suddenly she rose, a stick of toasted marshmallows in one hand and a small pile of something else in the other, headed in his direction. He watched carefully, not sure what she was up to, the glowing light casting her long shadow his way as she approached.

Crouching nearby, she rummaged in the pile of things she brought along, taking out a couple graham crackers and a bar of chocolate. She put the chocolate on a graham, watching him with a grin as he watched her slide a hot marshmallow onto the chocolate. Placing the other graham on top, squishing the gooey mess enough to bite into, she handed it to him. "Here, try it, it's pretty good!"

He raised a brow curiously. "What is this?"

"Haven't you had one before?" Eyes widening, she looked nearly scandalized that he could have missed out on something this fantastic. "This is only the best campfire food you can find!" She took a bite of her own concoction, chocolate dribbling out of the sides as the hot marshmallow melted it. Chocolate ran down her chin but she was unperturbed, enjoying the delicious taste no matter how messy it was. "Go on, try it!"

It was endearing, he had to admit, to see her there with chocolate on her face, talking with her mouth full. He glanced at his own, carefully taking a bite. The hot marshmallow burned a little but it was delicious, though he jerked slightly when the graham cracker broke apart and crumbled over his lap. Crumbs scattered all over, but he found it didn't matter. It was delicious. "Not bad," he admitted.

"Not bad?" She laughed, licking her messy fingers. His gaze was drawn to her, watching as she picked bits of sticky marshmallow from her fingers, daintily eating every bite. "Admit it, this is the best you've ever had."

He blinked, not sure what to say. "It is the only time I have had it, so it must be so."

The corner of her mouth quirked, and she sat back on her knees. "That's close enough I guess. " Dusting off her lap, crumbs flying, she made to leave but was stopped by his curious look. "What?"

Reaching out, he found his hand drifting to her chin, wiping melted chocolate away from it with a gentle touch. Her eyes closed briefly, taking in the gesture before looking back at him, the strange moment passing by in a flash. Then she smiled, a simple, unquestioning smile, drawing back slowly as she returned to her seat by the fire. Only when she was seated did she look back at him, amusement flickering in her gaze.

He noticed then that someone else watched him from around the fire, the blond with the eerie blue mako eyes. An undefined emotion passed behind those eyes. Confusion, maybe, or perhaps wariness. Vincent's eyes never left their locked gaze, slightly piqued by the blond's audacity to stare. Smirking to himself, he finished off his s'more, savoring it as Cloud's brows furrowed. Perhaps it would be worth the trouble to know them. Just a little.

Theme 3: Making History

Home was a place he hadn't intended to come back to. When Yuffie had suggested that the group head to her hometown on the way to find the Temple of the Ancients, he had wanted to protest, but found he couldn't without seeming suspicious. The familiar landscape gave him painful nostalgia, even the dusty trails and precarious rope bridges. A hazy sunset met them as they arrived to the outskirts of Wutai, camping out one last time before heading into the city. Though they wanted to press on, it was still a long way, the city only a smudge in the distance, and travel after sunset was too dangerous.

They managed to find an old, abandoned house within these outskirts, aged but stable. It was better than they were used to finding out in the wilderness, and to Vincent's dread they decided to camp here. He didn't dare tell them what this place was. As they walked inside, he had to wonder. Was there anything left in here? What had become of this place after its occupants had moved on? To one side, Aerith was shooing away spiders, clearing out a corner for them as she shivered in the cool evening. Cid eyed the furniture, everything still eerily the way it had been suddenly left. "Damn this place is creepy. Like everyone just vanished into thin air."

Vincent snorted lightly, walking past them into the inner rooms. He tried hard to ignore how they watched after him as he moved unerringly, knowing all too well where things were. In the bedroom that had once belonged to his mother, he grabbed a heavy quilt, bringing it back to the group. Still silent, he took it outside, shaking away years of dust. Back inside, he held out the quilt to Aerith, who took it with her usual cheerful smile. His quiet voice cut through these halls for the first time in over thirty years. "It gets cold at night this time of year. There might be more blankets around here."

Aerith, her gaze always knowing a person despite how they hid, saw through him. In her usual fashion, though, she accepted him just as anyone else. "Thank you."

In that moment, though, Cloud walked up cautiously with a perplexed expression. "How did you know where to find that?"

Looking around, he noticed the same question in everyone's eyes, though they weren't quite as vocal about it as Cloud. Vincent only shrugged. "Most houses in Wutai are laid out like this. It wasn't difficult to guess where the main bedroom was."

Yuffie looked at him strangely, looking like she was about to question him, but his dark glare made her change her mind. "Ah yeah, farm houses don't have much to them!"

General chatter easily picked up as they scoured the house for more blankets. He found himself feeling strange as he watched them gather possessions that were once his, once his mother's. A dark blue quilt Tifa had found now rested around her own shoulders, taken from his old room. Swallowing heavily against the memories that flooded through him, he tried to hide himself, arms crossed and leaning against a wall. Unsure why, he suddenly didn't want them touching his things. He didn't want them using them. Shoving back the irrational thought, knowing they were simply making use of what they had, he made his way upstairs and onto an outer balcony.

Stars began to show in the clear sky, the tiny pricks appearing one by one. It was so painful, seeing the place like this, nothing changed but what nature had done in his absence. The once plowed fields grew wild with weeds, grass and trees, scatterings of flowering bushes here and there. The world was slowly erasing what was here, wiping away proof that he had once been a child. Taking a deep breath, he rested his hands lightly on the railing, not quite trusting it to bear his weight. He knew someone was behind him now, watching. It was her again. What did she want?

He tilted his head in her general direction before looking back at the sky, a signal that he didn't mind her presence. Tifa approached quietly, pulling the quilt around her tightly against the cool wind. She joined him at the balcony, leaning her side slightly against the rail, looking at him with an unreadable expression. When he turned to look at her she smiled a small, understanding smile. "You know this place, don't you?" At his bare nod, she continued. "This was your home."

Brow raising slightly at her guess, he felt it best to be honest now that he had been found out. Somehow he knew he could trust Tifa not to tell anyone else if asked. "Yes. It was once. How did you know?"

Her gaze turned a bit sad, though she smiled against her pain. "You had that same look on your face, it was the same way I felt when I saw Nibelheim." Shivering, she clutched the blanket closer. "Whose blanket was this?"

Looking down at it, he met her gaze uneasily. "Mine. You may keep it if you need it."

Tilting her head as she watched him, she looked like she was trying to figure something out. "Are there good memories here?"

"Yes. Good and bad. It is hard to confront them."

"I know." She shot him that understanding smile, the same one that managed to barely reach his heart with a warm brush every time. "You can make more, though, right? Good or bad, everything we do is a part of our history. It makes us who we are, even if it hurts." Looking up at the sky, she watched the stars as they made their nightly trek across the sky. "Let's think of something good to remember about this time. Something that you'll never forget."

Glancing at her, bold crimson eyes glowing in the night, he spoke softly. "I already won't."

Theme 4: Rivalry

Cloud was watching him again. He could feel the stare directed at the back of his head, burning into his skull as if to figure out what he was thinking. Truth be told, he hadn't done anything of note. He had done what any person would do in that situation. It had happened when they were wandering through the labyrinth that made up the Temple of the Ancients, discovering the secrets of the planet and Sephiroth. They had split up to cover more ground, searching high and low. Tifa never saw the monster come her way.

An enormous doorbull charged at her, horns angled to bear into her, the dog-like portion snarling fiercely. From his high vantage point, Vincent spotted it, leaping from the ledge to block its path. He felt the Galian Beast within him surge but he didn't dare transform, knowing that he wouldn't be able to control his actions. If Galian used beast flare, he would unintentionally heal his enemy. Instead he ran at it, distracting the creature as Tifa whirled to meet it with him. Her own limit burned, and he watched with appreciation as she charged forth, linking a set of hard hitting moves.

The battle wore on as he shot from a distance, summoning magic when he could. It was difficult with only two of them, but it was soon defeated. Tifa stood, panting and bleeding from a shoulder wound, exhausted but alright. Her eyes had lit up with the thrill of victory, nodding at him gratefully for the help. He had done his best, yet now here Cloud was, still glaring. Alone with him, the blond finally spoke.

"How could you let Tifa get hurt? Why didn't you tell her to run away?"

Vincent blinked, cool expression not faltering. "She is a warrior just as we are. Would you have me tell you to run away?"

His lips twisted in a frown. "That's different! Tifa is... she's my best friend. I don't want her to be in danger."

Leveling a calculated glare, his eyes burned into Cloud's. "She is a grown woman, she can make her own decisions. She is not obligated to be with us. The least you can do is accept her decision."

Cloud rose abruptly, walking off in a huff. "I never should have even brought her along. She should have just stayed safely in Kalm."

Vincent watched as Cloud walked away, annoyed. There had been something odd building between him and their leader, though he couldn't quite identify it. He felt a presence behind him, hiding away in one of the many caverns. Chuckling to himself, he turned to face Tifa. Her arms were clutching around her, the large gash bandaged up and healing, looking at him with gratitude. "I'm glad someone around here understands me," she said, sighing. "Even Aerith told me that I don't have to be here if I don't want to, that it isn't really my fight unless I make it mine. This is just as much my fight as anyone else!" Her voice had raised at that last part, and before she knew it she was yelling. "They have no right to tell me that I can't fight!"

Vincent only nodded, his calm voice soothing. "No. It is up to you what you do in this place, in this world. You are here because you feel you must be."

"Yes," she stated in a calmer tone. "And I will stay here. I will stay until we succeed or... No, we will do it. We have to." Lips pursing, jaw clenching, fists curled tight, she faced him, brows furrowed into a line. "It's just so frustrating. I keep getting told I shouldn't be here. I'm not some damsel in distress!"

Though she technically had been for a moment, he didn't dare tell her so. Aside from that, she was far from the typical do-nothing damsel. "Far from it. Had I thought so, I would not trust you to watch my back." Smirking slightly behind his cowl at her amused expression, he gave her one last approving glance before turning away. "I will trust you to guard my back, and perhaps I yours."

Theme 5: Unbreakable

Lodged in a cave deep in the snowy mountains, everyone huddled near the fire, a deafening silence pervading the gloomy atmosphere. In a brief moment of chaos, Aerith was dead. They had all been in great peril up until now, but Aerith was the first to truly die. It sent their morale into a plummet, all of them pushing forward because they didn't know what else to do. Cloud still wasn't talking, still horrified by how close he had come to killing the innocent young woman himself, overcome by the influence of Jenova in his mind. Despite reassurances from everyone that he had had no control over what Jenova was doing to him, he had withdrawn even farther from the comfort of his friends. He hadn't wanted to risk hurting any of them again.

Vincent tossed more logs onto the fire, unaffected by the cold that tried so hard to leech into his undead veins. The graying logs already in the fire crackled and split, their black coal cores breaking into pieces from his rough handling. He had been the first to recover enough to prepare for the long winter night, finding shelter and keeping everyone warm as their numbed senses sharpened. Cid kept watch near the mouth of the cave for monsters, silent to anyone who came near and quick to turn his attention back outside. "I just gotta do somethin', you know?" was all he had to say when questioned, and nobody bothered him after that.

"We have to keep going soon." It was Tifa's voice cutting through the silence, directed at Cloud. Caught off guard by the sudden break in the quiet, Vincent turned to watch what would happen. As expected, Cloud didn't respond. Tifa sighed, voice growing stronger in her frustration. "Cloud, come on, you have to have some idea of what to do next!" When he didn't even give away that he heard her, she groaned, chucking a small rock at the wall by his head. The blond didn't even flinch. "Cloud!"

A long silence followed, and finally Vincent aired his opinion. "We must go over what we know, and then our path should become clearer."

Her eyes met his as she shivered in the cold night air, and he noted with an odd sense of amusement that she had kept that ratty old comforter of his. Now she clung to it with a clear need, both from the cold and from worry. "What do you think, then?"

He watched her for a moment, noting the lilt of desperation in her voice, the need for some sense of direction, of purpose, but he had only words. "We now know what Sephiroth intends to do." Suddenly Cloud looked up at him, but he continued regardless. "He will summon Meteor so that the lifestream collects in high concentration at the site of impact. If he should be exposed to such a high amount of raw mako, he would be very powerful." Pausing, he inspected his clawed hand, musing thoughtfully about how powerful he himself could become. "Very powerful indeed."

"But how do we stop him?"

"How, indeed." He didn't have the answers, only an endless plethora of questions. What little he knew of Sephiroth wasn't enough. "I don't know."

From the corner Cloud suddenly shot up, his cold blue eyes burning with anger. "You don't know? I thought you knew everything about him."

Vincent only eyed him icily, his contempt soft but very clear. "I know even less than most of you, since I had died scarcely after he was born. I have only been analyzing what we have found out on our journey, since I have no personal experience to back my findings."

Temporarily mollified, Cloud sat back in his previous position. "I... I'm sorry. I just can't do this. You all expect me to be some kind of leader and I don't even know where to go from here. I might get all of us killed. I might kill you. I might play right into Sephiroth's game, I don't know. So much is at risk now, our friends, our families, ourselves. I can't choose when it... when people might die."

"There is always that," he bluntly agreed. "If we do nothing, though, all we know will end. Sephiroth will do as Jenova has done, denuding this planet and continuing onto the next one. Then that world, too, will be in a peril of our own design. Can you really do nothing when so much is at stake?"

From the other corner, Red lurked further into the fire, settling on his haunches so as to look at both of them. "She sacrificed herself for a reason, even if we don't yet know why. There has to be something we aren't seeing, but we'll never know unless we continue on the path that she cleared for us."

Suddenly Cid's loud voice cut through the pervasive quiet. "First thing we gotta do is get out of these damn mountains! I'm thinkin' we can all agree on that one!" His brusque statement made a couple wry grins fill the room, the heavy tension slowly lifting away. From his corner Vincent relaxed warily, somewhat amused by how the pilot always seemed to know what to say to prevent arguments from breaking out amongst them. Though their emotions were fragile, they were all joined together by one cause, persevering in spite of what they were driven into. Suddenly his own notions of simple revenge seemed a pathetic excuse to remain. Maybe now he had better reasons.