Chapter 2
It had been two weeks now. Two weeks since Chaos had found himself unceremoniously dumped in some dark alley. Much of that time had been spent fantasizing about what he would do if he ever got ahold of the owner of a certain overly cheerful, sing-songy voice. Yep, that's what kept him warm at night. Figuratively, at least. In reality, there wasn't much in the way of modern conveniences in the abandoned warehouse he had claimed as his lair. No heat. No furniture. That didn't bother him overmuch, though.
Chaos had visited Seventh Heaven – the bar where some of the old AVALANCHE members lived – but he hadn't gone in. In fact, he had been careful to ensure he was neither seen nor heard. He wasn't concerned with what had happened to his old host Vincent Valentine. Not at all… maybe just a little curious.
For the first week there was no word on Valentine's whereabouts… or his survival. The gang at Seventh Heaven was clearly concerned. Perhaps Vincent's human body had not endured the fall when they parted ways. That surprised him – Vincent had always struck him as a survivor – and Chaos found himself oddly bothered by this loss. Not that he missed his host, he told himself. After all, it wasn't as if they were friends or anything. Nonetheless, he found himself hanging out in the alley behind Seventh Heaven or perched on the roof by the skylight on a basis too frequent to really call coincidence. And, if he seemed to be listening a little too closely to the conversations therein, well, that wasn't entirely coincidence either. Not that he was concerned or cared, of course. Sure, he eavesdropped closely on incoming calls from Cloud as the blond swordsman scoured the area in search of clues to Vincent's fate, but it wasn't his fault he had good hearing.
Valentine might play the part of silent loner, but Chaos noted how many people came together to look for him when he disappeared. An awful lot of people for someone who claimed to have no friends. Not that he was one of those concerned parties. Definitely not.
His mind traveled back to his latest visit to Seventh Heaven.
Chaos crouched low to the surface of the roof to prevent his outline from showing along the skyline of the building. He had to work hard to be quiet enough to avoid detection by the Mako-enhanced hearing of the spikey blond.
Cloud had just pulled up in a small moving truck and greeted the dark-haired martial artist with a peck on the cheek.
"Where did the truck come from, Cloud?" she asked.
"Reeve. It's on loan from the WRO. I have something you… will want to see." Cloud had become more comfortable talking in the last year and was at his most relaxed with the dark-haired beauty that had so patiently coaxed him back to himself.
Chaos wondered if Cloud's acquisition had anything to do with Valentine. He could no longer see the couple from his vantage on the Seventh Heaven roof as they stepped into the back of the truck, but he heard the girl's gasp of pleasure.
"It's beautiful!"
"Happy birthday, Tifa."
"You remembered my birthday!"
Ugh, how sappy. Chaos restrained himself from groaning aloud for fear of being overheard.
The sandy-haired boy joined them then and the three of them managed to unload the van's bounty. Moonlight glinted off mahogany and ivory. A baby grand piano for the bar. Nothing to do with Valentine, then. Chaos remained silently watching the scene unfold as the three struggled to get the instrument maneuvered inside.
"No word on Vincent?" inquired Tifa.
"None, but I'll go out again in the morning and Yuffie still has her ear to the ground. I… even asked the Turks to let us know if they hear anything. Why don't you… give this a try and see how it sounds?"
The martial artist sat on the mahogany bench and played a melody from memory. It was sweet and somber at the same time, the notes rising and falling gently.
Chaos left before the song was finished.
Chaos shook his head at himself. He was not some sentimental fool to get lost in such memories.
Word of Valentine finally came in the second week following Omega's defeat. The girl-woman Shelke had located him at Lucrecia's crystal cave. It figured. His ex-host probably went there to torture himself some more.
Shelke and Valentine briefly returned to Seventh Heaven, and Chaos watched the reunion from a distance. It was all tears and hugs. Disgusting, really, if you asked him, but, of course, no one did. He took some comfort in the fact that Valentine seemed as uncomfortable with it as he would have been.
Vincent told the members of AVALANCHE that Chaos and Omega had both returned to the Lifestream. Ha, that joke was on him, then. That would teach his old host to go making assumptions and not even looking for his old pal Chaos.
Still, Chaos found himself unwilling to reveal himself to Valentine or the rest of the AVALANCHE crew. They probably wouldn't be too happy to see him anyway. Not that he cared whether they rejected him or not. Chaos was above such petty considerations as the fickle acceptance of mere humans.
He had taken to wearing a heavy cowl and cloak that concealed his face and the cartilage of his headdress, as well as his folded wings. With the colder weather, a cloak didn't stand out too much. He still looked odd enough that people crossed the street to avoid walking by him, but with rumors of his death somewhat exaggerated, Chaos believed it would be enough to keep his identity secret.
So, here he was. Squatting in some cold, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the now flourishing town of Edge. The cold didn't bother him much, but even he wasn't immune to hunger. That had been one of the downsides of residing within Vincent: the gunman did not eat enough.
Eating posed a bit of a problem for Chaos, since he had no money. He had considered wreaking random havoc on people and taking their food and gil as he found it. That would have been pretty easy, considering his strength and the relative defenselessness of the common people of Edge. When he had been on the verge of his first attack, however, a voice in his head halted him cold.
"You don't want to hurt people."
What? Why was there a voice in his head? He was used to being the voice in someone else's head. Turnabout was not fair play. Strangely, the voice sounded a bit like his own, but that was preposterous since he would never have such reservations.
Chaos let the rotund banker disappear around the corner without attacking. He would do it tomorrow. Yes, that was it. He just wasn't that hungry yet. And tomorrow he would probably eat the fat banker when he was done too. He wasn't picky about what he ate, just that there was plenty of it.
The following day had come and gone and Chaos had watched the banker head home and let him pass unhindered yet again. He told himself it had nothing to do with that infernal voice in his head. It just wasn't worth the effort to attack humans. Plus, he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Not yet. Not until he decided what he wanted to do about his former host.
So, here he sat in a cold warehouse eating rats. Yes, rats. There was an abundance of them. They were one of the few things that had seemed to flourish in the aftermath of Meteor, amid the demolished Midgar and the emerging Edge.
On the subject of rats, Chaos recalled a shared memory from his time with Vincent a year or so back.
Vincent, with Chaos along for the ride, was visiting Seventh Heaven. His typical perceptive nature picked up on Cloud's distress when Cloud joined him on the rooftop. The signs were subtle: a tension in the shoulders, a weight behind the eyes, a slight restlessness in the hands. Vincent didn't say anything, just waited quietly. Soon the source of Cloud's distress came pouring out in his usual halting way.
"Vincent… why do horrible things happen… to good people… to kids?"
Vincent didn't have a reply for this. He ducked his head into the collar of his mantle and waited silently for Cloud to continue.
"Before Aerith led Denzel to Tifa and me… he went through a lot of things. He told me… that after Meteorfall… when he was really starving… he thought about eating rats. People told him the rats were toxic from exposure to chemicals and pollution. Denzel… he considered eating them anyway... he thought maybe he wanted to die. He thought… maybe that was the only way out from the destruction and famine and sadness that was the aftermath of Meteorfall. I… I don't know what to say to him to help him past it all." This was quite a speech for the socially awkward and generally quiet swordsman. He clearly cared a lot for the adopted boy and was heartbroken at hearing how the boy had considered suicide.
"Hnn."
Cloud let out a deep sigh, releasing harbored tension. "Thanks for listening, Vincent. Now… I think I… understand how to help. I just… need to listen." The blond was quiet for a few minutes more before turning and descending the stairs to rejoin the family.
Chaos drowned out most of Vincent's conversations – unless it was something he could taunt his host about – but this one, for some reason, stayed with him.
Chaos didn't have to worry about toxins in his food. His constitution was considerably stronger than a human's – probably stronger even than a Mako-enhanced human's. He didn't care much for the taste of rats, that was true; however, taste was not a truly important factor to him. Nevertheless, it rankled to be here, alone, eating the refuse at the bottom of the food chain while AVALANCHE sat warm and cozy in Seventh Heaven.
Chaos rose with a frustrated grunt and headed out to walk the streets yet again. This had become a familiar pattern.
The sun had set, leaving a faint glow of light along the horizon. Streetlights had not been a huge priority in the push to build Edge, but they dotted a few street corners here and there. Steam rose up from the sewers through periodic vents staggered at the edges of the street.
Chaos found himself back in the alley where he had awakened after his trip to the Lifestream. He often found himself here. Perhaps it looked to an outsider like he came here to ponder his purpose and the reason for his return to the Planet. Chaos didn't think so, though. He came here to ponder all the ways he would subjugate humanity beneath his iron fists. Yes, that was it.
A sliver of reflection caught his eye in the darkest recess of the alley. Perhaps it was something of value left behind. Unlikely, but worth checking out. Besides, there wasn't anything else to occupy his curiosity at this time.
Not a thing of value after all. It was a body. Probably some poor sap had been mugged and murdered back here. It happened in Edge, even now that civilization was taking hold and the WRO was attempting to enforce laws for peace and order.
Chaos stepped closer and toed the body over onto its back with his boot. It was too dark to make out much beyond skin as pale as the moon. And hair that, where it was not caked with grime from the alley, shone silver as the light reflected from it. Chaos shuffled through the pockets of the body. Just in case.
The demon was startled when the man's lips parted and let out a sigh. Fumbling, he felt at the neck for a pulse. Ah, there it was. Weak, but steady. What was he thinking? What did it matter if the stiff had a pulse or not. He would be dead by morning. It wasn't Chaos' problem. Little did he care what happened to the riff-raff of humanity. He got up and turned away, back to the open street.
"You can't leave him." Stupid Inner Voice. Meddling, ignorant Inner Voice.
Chaos turned and looked at the body again. It looked small in the dim light – fragile, even. Chaos' wings tightened in agitation beneath his cloak. With a disgruntled shrug, he knelt and gathered the boy into his arms before heading back to the warehouse.
Inside the warehouse, Chaos glanced around. The furnishings were sparse indeed: concrete flooring, his sleeping mat, empty shipping crates, an old push broom, a bucket of water. No real place to lay a body – except his own mat. His eyes returned to his mat and blanket – obtained by less than honest means, but still his. Growling his irritation, he deposited the still-comatose teen on his mat.
Briefly, the eyelids slid open, revealing cyan eyes that refused to focus properly.
"Brother?" the dazed sounding figure asked. The eyes slid shut again without waiting for a reply.
"Hardly," Chaos grunted. "Besides, I'll probably eat you in the morning."
A/N: Welcome to Chapter 2! Thanks for reading. If you haven't read On the Way to a Smile: Case of Denzel, the subject of eating rats comes directly from that. There is also a OVA that you can watch of the Case of Denzel.
Standard disclaimer applies: Chaos & Kadaj is a work of fanfiction written purely for entertainment purposes and without intent to profit. All due credit for Final Fantasy VII belongs to its creators and Square Enix.
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