Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is property of Square-Enix. I write this for my own enjoyment, and intend no infrigement or profit.

Hero of the Day

"The window burns to light the way back home
A light that warms no matter where they've gone."

- Metallica, "Hero of the Day"

Part III

Yuffie blinked blearily. For a moment, she darted her eyes around the dark skyline, expecting to see the monolithic crimson rock spiraling towards the ground, to find nothing there. Her memory returned, and she smiled contently with a yawn, resting her eyes upon the blue fabric of the coat.

She blinked again. Blue fabric of the coat?

Gripping the heavy jacket in her hand, she studied it intensely. The coarse cloth on one arm held a red and black "Highwind" patch. Instantly realizing who it belonged to, the teenager struggled to think of a time when Cid had given her his much-beloved coat, coming up empty.

Taking in her surroundings, the first thing she immediately noticed was that it was still before dawn. The sun still loomed beneath the horizon as it lazily made its way up to the sky above, golden tendrils spearing into the darkness. The fire had gone out long ago, the burnt out pieces of scrap wood releasing thin silver streams of smoke unseen into the lightening sky. The three members of the Highwind crew had returned sometime after their spat, all three huddling near eachother and the fire for warmth.

A few yards away, her eyes fell upon the unmoving form of Cid. She rolled to her feet unsteadily, her hip protesting the moment, perhaps moreso than the last time she had awakened. She snorted to herself. "Hmph, and they say time heals all wounds," she muttered quietly.

"Do all ninjas talk to themselves?"

Her eyes darted over to the source of the rough voice. Cid laid on his side, a tiny smirk upon his lips. Quickly, it morphed into a fearsome snarl, his gloved hand swiftly moving to his injured side as he unexpectedly hissed in pain. It took all of Yuffie's training to not turn away in abject disgust as he methodically peeled the soaked through cotton scarf away from his wound; the wet sucking sound of peeling flesh painfully audible in the quiet morning. With an unreadable expression, he refolded the thick material so a clean section was showing, and reapplied it. She noticed his muscles tense for the first few seconds the scarf touched his gash. Soon, though, the impassive mask reappeared, and he sat up with merely a slight grunt of exertion.

She found watching him treating his abrasions oddly intriguing, in an almost sadistic way. He wasn't impatient or rough as he most often was around the others. Normally, Cid would take the route of beating the offending person or object into submission. To observe him being careful about anything was rare.

She ignored the dull pain in her left arm, useless waste of skin it now was, as she limped her way over to him. She held out the coat for him to take, the fabric hanging inches from his face. He, however, remained oblivious to it, gingerly wrapping the scarf around his waist. Several moments later, he momentarily raised his head, his nose inadvertently nudging the cloth. Startled, he jerked backwards, landing on his backside. "Geez, kid," he huffed, snatching the jacket from her slender fingers, "do ya mind not sneakin' up on me like that?" He shook his head, quickly muttering, "Waitaminute, nevermind, you're a damn ninja."

She wasn't sure if his statement was meant sarcastically or genuinely, but she smiled at it anyway. Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath. "Um…Cid…" she managed out.

He glanced up, locking his cool eyes with hers. "Yeah?"

Again, she tried to force the seditious words through her vocal cords, to no avail.

He knitted his brows. "What? What's yer problem?"

She chuckled nervously. "Um…yeah…I, uh…" she stammered.

His chiseled lips tugged downward into a frown. "What?"

She clenched her teeth together in frustration. "Thanks."

He blinked, surprised. "Huh?"

Before he could say any more, she turned on her heel and stalked towards the tilting remains of the ship, mentally kicking herself the entire way. It shouldn't have been so hard to say. It was one little word, 'thanks'. That was no reason for a mind to suddenly shut down, especially not hers. And it wasn't even anything of great importance. She was thanking him for a measly jacket.

Then again, she didn't have much experience in that field.

She froze in mid step, pondering the epiphany. Cid had been right. She hadn't thanked anyone before. She had never apologized either. She hadn't really believed that she had anything to be thankful about, but after their conversation the night before, she understood that her life could have indeed been much worse than it had been.

Possibly like his.

Shaking her head slowly, she climbed up the jagged slope of the Highwind hull. Having one arm numb made it a great deal harder than had she been in perfect health, and ten minutes later, she sat on the crest, regaining her strength. While breathing in and out slowly, she was careful to keep her mind clear of any stray thoughts. She was not ready to reach into the section of her mind that remained concealed by years of cobwebs and ambition.

"Kid, you okay?"

Snapping her head around, she laid eyes upon the mammoth leather boots that could only belong to Barret. Biting back a sigh, she nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just catching my breath, that's all."

Barret scoffed roughly. "Yeah, it's a bitch to climb, ain't it?" Massaging the back of his neck with his hand, he sat down next to her. "Wat'chu doin' up here, anyway?"

She paused. What was she up here for? Unsure, she spouted the first thing that came to mind. "I, uh, wanted to know how Spike - er, Cloud, was doing."

Barret's full lip twitched up in amusement. "'Spike'? Kid, you been spendin' too much time wit Cid."

The corner of her mouth curled up for an instant, disappearing as quickly as it came. Flashing a quick mischievous glance in his general direction, she cocked her head to the side. "You call him that too, you know."

He raised a thick eyebrow at her. "Jes what'chu tryin' ta say, brat?"

Her rose lips parted in an evil grin. "Nothing. Nothing at all." Straining her neck upwards to look him in the face, she asked, "So, how is Cloud doing?"

What mirth was in his eyes vaporized, replaced with the icy crystals of reality. "Still out." Harrumphing to himself, he shook his head, staring out blankly into the early morning sky. "What's the game plan?"

Yuffie furrowed her brows and gaped at him. "What makes you think he'd tell me? He doesn't trust me, and you know it."

He nodded slowly, his scarred face hardened with years of witnessing Life's cruel whims. For a moment, as he pondered his answer, she wondered how he had managed to get through it all. He had been burned far more times than she had. He - like her - had lost his home, his honor, and pride, when the Shinra came in and took what wasn't rightfully theirs. But he had lost more. Barret had lost his wife, his friends…his best friend, Dyne, whom had become a raving, blood-lusting maniac. He was forced to watch him die, able and yet unable to save him, and he probably blamed himself for it. It was just that much more blood slathered on his one remaining hand. To him, there was already so much there, a bit more wouldn't make a difference…

"He don't trust ya," he huffed, bringing her back to the present, "but you the only one left who can be on point. Ev'rybody else is gonna be doin' somethin'."

She nodded in appreciation for his tactical intellect. He was the original leader for a reason, obviously. Honestly, she began to wonder if she would be able to cut it as the leader, even as a temporary one. If and when a situation would arise that needed strategy, she was apprehensive of what she could possibly do. Shoving the thought away, she replied, "Do you trust me?"

He glanced over to her, shrugging ambiguously.

She rolled her eyes, getting to her feet. "Geez, thanks for the pick-me-up."

He smirked. "Ain't no problem, kid." He too stood, towering over her while still half bent over. "So," he started, "what's the word?"

She gathered her thoughts, attempting to form a plan. Trying three times and failing, she scrapped the whole idea and just decided to 'let the chips fall where they may'. "We're splitting into two teams," she stated, dead-pan. "Cid and a few others are going to go at their own pace. Everyone else is coming with me. My team is going to get to Kalm as fast as possible, and bring back supplies to Cid's group."

His dark lips tugged downward. "That's it? That's all ya got?" Sighing, he shook his head. "Kid, lemme ask ya somethin'. Cid's 'team'…how they gonna be able ta defend themselves if the shit hits the fan?"

Yuffie set her jaw, glaring at the larger man. "Cid says he doesn't want us to be lagging behind because of him. Also, he figures this way is quicker. I don't really like it either, but it's the only chance I think we have. If you have any better plans, by all means, tell me. You're more of a tactician than I am."

His gaze shifted to a far off place, his expression contemplative. "Hm…the ol' man's gotta point. Aight, we doin' it yo way. When we leavin'?"

She shrugged non-chalantly, giving Barret no outward clue of her amazement at herself. "Whenever everyone's ready to."

Barret blinked again. "Damn, kid…ya really got a lot ta learn 'bout bein' a leader."

The ninja shrugged again, hopping down to a lower level. "Fine. Then teach me." Before the larger man could reply, she had skipped her way down half the jagged slope with little trouble. As she made her way down to the charred earth below, she thought of the friends she had made, and the conditions they were now in. Cloud was unconscious, Tifa was injured, Barret was as coarse as ever, Red was unable to walk, Cait was destroyed, Vincent had mysteriously vanished, and Cid…

Her eyes made their way over to Cid's crouching form, gazing at the smoldering pile of burnt wood. His unruly blond hair was in various stages of disarray, clumps of it frozen in different positions. His dusty blue jacket was thrown over his shoulders, providing minimal protection from the wind in its tattered condition. The pilot didn't seem to notice, though, lost in thought.

He was injured, and yet he volunteered to help his comrade in arms for no other reason than to do it. If the other members of the Highwind crew were to come with her, that would leave only Tifa to defend them against anything that might come their way. She held no doubt that the shapely bartender could take care of herself and those around her, but guarding herself and two other injured people alone…?

"Yuffie!" Startled, she turned around, her ebony eyes falling upon Tifa. The buxom woman was waving her hand in the air, standing on a small cliff of steel rods, smiling brightly. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she twisted her body around, forcing a miniscule jovial grin.

Standing at the base, Yuffie stared above and shouted, "What's up?"

Stepping down a few levels, Tifa eyed her happily. "Good morning!" she declared.

"Um…good morning." Pausing for a moment to read the expression on her pale face, she frowned slightly. "So…um…" she began haltingly, "is there…anything I can do for you?"

Tifa hopped to the ground, shaking her head merrily.

Her face fell as the brunette's cheerful countenance sucked out whatever joy was left in her system, her radiant grin soaking it up like a sponge. "That's all you wanted to say? 'Good morning'?"

She nodded briskly, running a hand through the small tangles in her long, thick hair. "Well, someone here has to be in a good mood. Everyone else seems to be the walking dead."

Forcing down the comment that threatened to emerge, she instead sighed. "Yeah, well, it's going to be a long day. Everyone's just resting up, I guess."

Tifa nodded contently, walking towards the remains of the campfire. She watched her for a moment, shaking her head. Tifa was by no means stupid; in fact, she had a practical knowledge of the human body that she'd never heard of before, but if there was a weakness in the fighting master, it was her blind trust in others. In short, the woman was gullible in the extreme. When they had first met, she used that flaw at every possible chance. However, now, she disliked using it to her advantage, especially after all the kindness that had been shown to her. Still, sometimes lying to her was for her own good. At least, that was her justification.

"Heads up, kid."

Instinctively, she dove to the ground, rolling on her numb shoulder into a defensive crouch. Staring at her previous standing place, her eyes again fell upon the massive worn boots that covered the rebel's large feet. Blinking in confusion, she stood, her deep eyes following up his large muscled body, stopping at the figure lying limp over his shoulder. "Decided to bring Cloud down?"

He nodded curtly, an odd expression upon his face. "Yeah. The hell was that?"

She rose one eyebrow curiously. "What was what?"

He nodded slightly in her direction. "The duck 'n roll thing."

"Oh." Yuffie paused, half-heartedly trying to make up an excuse for her 'duck 'n roll thing'. "Well…"

"Habit?" he supplied for her. She nodded mutely. "Hmph. Aight then. You coo'?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied.

She studied their leader for a moment, slumped listlessly over Barret's shoulder. Her sharp eyes noted the absence small spines of steel in his back that were imbedded there the last time she laid eyes upon it. In its stead, each of the dozen wounds had been treated with a painstakingly careful touch. Tifa, probably. Thinking back upon her behavior a few minutes ago, she gained a new respect for the woman's inner strength. Anyone who could treat their loved ones wounds and still wake up happy had to have integrity. "So, we're all ready," Yuffie stated flatly.

He nodded in military-like fashion. "Spike here's the last one up there, so yeah."

"See? You do say it." He merely stared at her as if she were insane. Shaking her head, she sighed. "Alright. Get Red, and I'll talk to the Highwind crew."

"Wait," he said, taking a step forward. "They comin' wit us or not?"

She shrugged. "Not sure. I was going to ask them, actually."

The rebel frowned deeply. "They should."

She paused, taking a glimpse of the huddled members of the Highwind crew, redressing their gashes. "They don't have to come, you know."

"Kid," he sighed wearily, "ya their leader. Ya give orders. They do hafta come."

Her eyebrows shot upwards, almost amused. "Oh, they do?"

He nodded. "Animals smell blood, and Cid's group is bleedin' pretty bad. The more blood in one small area - meanin' Cid's group - the quicker the animals find 'em. They better off wit us." He glared at her, his eyes hard. "Don'chu think?"

She fell silent, nodding imperceptibly.

Barret snorted to himself. "I thought so. Well, ya better tell the crew. It's gonna be a long walk, and the more light, the better." She was too lost in thought to notice him walking off. She felt as if she were three inches tall. She tried to be the leader - failing miserably, at that - and he snapped her back like some rank amateur. Of course, she couldn't blame him; he knew more in the tactics field than she did, and she even admitted it. And, regardless of his demeanor, he was right on every point. He not only knew what to do, but he knew how and why, as well. Part of her was glad the middle-aged rebel was in her troupe. If something happened where she needed to make quick decisions, she could rely upon him.

The rest of her, however, was embarrassed, and even a little angry. She was not a child that needed to have her hand held through everything.

She shook her head, starting off towards the smoldering campfire. Now wasn't the time to throw a temper tantrum, she chastised herself harshly. She was a ninja; she had dealt with mistakes before. She'd lived with defeat, and rejection. She had taken her land's humiliating defeat in stride, and she could take a little brow-beating from some second-rate rebel.

From some second-rate rebel that saved the world, she amended grudgingly.

Her raven eyes wandered to Cid, whom hand just slung their unconscious leader over his shoulder, taking a slow drag off a cigarette he had lit from the tiny cinders. She had learned to think on her feet, compensating for mistakes she could afford to make. Now, though, those same mistakes carried a high a price tag. Far too high for her tastes.

Then again, a lot of prices were too high for her tastes. A wisp of a smirk passed her face. She'd managed to cheat her way out of many price tags in her career, and this time would be no different.

The darkness was complete. What moon had been shining the evening before was gone, as if the night had always reigned supreme.

She loved it.

The night was her element. She needed that absolute darkness to carry out her duties or missions, whatever they may have been. Despite her small stature and scrawny features, Yuffie was quite the thief, as her friends quickly learned. She had even been trained in the ways of assassination, though she never dared use it. She had some morals, after all.

"Hey, kid, where the hell are ya?" Barret questioned loudly, his booming voice echoing in the flat expanse.

"She is fifteen feet in front of you, Barret," Red replied, his voice tinged with annoyance. "You can't see in the dark?"

"No, that's why they call it the dark, ya snooty bastard!" he snapped harshly, stumbling over a rock.

"'Snooty'?" the feline guffawed. "I was merely inquiring over whether your eyes have adjusted to the darkness yet."

"Well, they haven't. Happy now?" he sneered, jogging up next to Yuffie. She cast a sidelong glance to him and smiled weakly. Unlike Barret, her eyes had long ago adjusted to the inky blackness that surrounded them as she scanned the area intently for anything that might pose a threat. No doubt, the fire-tailed creature laying over the rebel's shoulders had been able to see through the black velvet long before she ever had, luckily for the one holding him. "We been walkin' for 'bout - what? - fourteen hours now, we oughta be close."

"That'd make it about 9:30 or so," she stated. "Would any of the stores still be open?"

"After all the shit that went down? Couldn't tell ya," he answered bluntly.

"Let us hope so," Red said, sighing.

"Hmph. Amen ta that."

"Same here," she huffed. She brought her hand up to her face, rubbing her weary eyes for a second, and wondering how far along Cid and the others were. Almost against her will, she turned her gaze to the path she had trodden, willing their silhouettes to come into view, only to see the three from the Highwind trudging behind her tiredly. Sighing, she swiveled her neck around just in time to see another shadow creeping along in front of them. Stopping in mid step, she motioned brutally with her right arm to hold their position.

Barret's hulking form lurched to a halt, looking her way. "Ya see somethin'?"

"Shh!" she hissed quietly, pressing her finger to her lips. Squinting her deep eyes in concentration, she desperately tried to make out the forms. They were human, or at least humanoid, and from their slow and jerky movements, they didn't appear to be concerned with her group. Beyond that, however, it was impossible to tell, even for a ninja so acquainted with the night. Leaning her slender body over an inch, she whispered, "Red, you see better than I do in the dark, what do they look like?"

The scarlet quadruped pivoted his furred head, his amber eye focused upon the many straggling shadows. Several seconds passed in silence, Yuffie holding her breath in anticipation. The feline sniffed the air, his thin lips curling downward unnaturally. "Refugees," he muttered dully.

Her dark eyes widened. "From Midgar?"

A bark of laughter exploded from Barret's lips. "Hot damn! There were survivors!"

Red sniffed the air once more, turning his gaze from the darkness to Barret. "I wouldn't celebrate just yet, Barret. If people survived, they'd naturally head to the nearest towns."

The rebel frowned, sighing impatiently. "Yeah, I got that. Jes what's yo point?"

The feline stared into the night momentarily, his face contemplative. "Why?"

She knitted her brows, wondering where her four-legged companion was going with this. "What do you mean, 'why'? Where else can they go? They can't stay in a ruined city."

His golden eye shifted to her. "And why do you suppose that is?"

Her lips formed a thin frown, her deep eyes narrowing. If she could have crossed her arms, she would have. "Don't talk to me like I'm three. I have a brain, thank you."

"You haven't answered my question, yet," he retorted, unperturbed.

She grated her teeth together. She felt as if he were staring down at herwhich he was, since he was hoisted up on Barret's broad shoulders. Nothing flared her temper up more than someone underestimating her. With as much attitude as she could muster, she hissed, "Alright, then. You want an answer? I'll tell you one. The survivors obviously can't stay in a ruined city because it's too hazardous. They'd need food, shelter, su -" Her eyes widened, Red's insinuation dawning on her. "Supplies."

He nodded slightly. "They're not the first batch, and I doubt they'll be the last. Kalm is probably already overflowing with them. If there are any supplies left, they'll be extremely expensive."

"If it's money, we ain't gotta problem wit it," the dark man assured confidently. "I still got 'bout fifty-thousand stashed on me, and knowin' you -" he remarked, his eyes flitting over to Yuffie, "- ya probably got ev'rything else, anyway."

She scoffed in disgust. "I do not. …At least…not all of it…"

Barret merely snorted.

"He-hello? I-is anybody out there?" a disembodied voice simpered weakly.

She cast a quick glimpse to the others, nodding to herself. "I'll go," she whispered.

"Damn right ya better go, yo the leader," the large rebel chastised.

Her frown only became more pronounced. "Barret," she huffed, "shut up." She wasn't sure if the muscular soldier was either stunned into silence or just ignored her, and to be honest, she didn't care. He kept quiet, and that was more than enough for her. Taking a few soft steps forward, her eyes darted about the dark horizon and spotted at least three of the ragged shadows to her left, closing in on her position.

"He-hello?" the same voice squeaked quietly, its voice quivering with either fear or fatigue. Probably both, she told herself. "Wh-who's there?"

Holding her arm out wide in a gesture of peace, Yuffie continued to walk forward slowly. "Don't be afraid," she spoke calmly, her eyes moving from one shape to another, noticing that as she stepped closer, more and more of them appeared. Part of her wondered exactly how many refugees Red saw when she asked him to look.

"Who are you?" another voice piped up. It was deeper, more resonant than the original, but it was strained with weariness.

Satisfied that she was as close as she needed to be, she halted in the trampled grass, keeping her one palm up. "My name is Yuffie," she answered slowly. "I and my comrades are headed towards Kalm."

"Why?" the second snapped, sounding annoyed. "Where are they, and -"

"Karter," the first hushed. A shadow disengaged itself from the whole, becoming a small form all its own. "Excuse my friend, miss Yuffie, he's very protective of us. There aren't many of us left," the voice became tinged with sadness and regret.

She could identify with that. "I can understand your…uh, zeal, Mr. Karter"

"Karter," he replied curtly.

"Uh, right, Karter," she sputtered, clearing her throat. Turning her gaze to the lead shadow, the ninja took a deep breath. "I want to assure you," she began, "I mean you no harm. My friends and I, we were in a plane crash. Some of the others were injured. We need to get to Kalm and bring them supplies before they die."

"Is that the quiet explosion we heard last night?" the first voice, almost feminine in comparison to Karter's, questioned softly.

She chuckled to herself for a moment. "Quiet," she echoed. "That's not the word I would've used for it. But, yeah, I guess so."

For several seconds, the only sound that she could make out was the weak night winds that brought with it the stench of ash and death. Whether the smell was from the Highwind or Midgar, though, she couldn't know for sure. "…Come with us," the first voice stated. "My name is Castille, although everyone calls me Cas."

She grinned. "Alright…Cas."

"How many are with you?" Karter growled.

She cast a glare over her shoulder, minutely nodding her head to the ones behind her. "Including me, six."

"Come on, then," he commanded, "we don't wait for those who lag behind."

"Gotcha," she answered, turning to her comrades as they jogged up to her position. Barret was the first to arrive, and as he passed her to join the crowd of stragglers, she could've sworn she saw a tiny smirk upon his leathery face. Seconds later, the other three of the Highwind crew caught up with him, and she brought up the rear, content to meld into the crowd and not to lead it.

For many minutes she was lost in thought. How many of these people had survived the meteor's wrath? How many had lost family members? How many had lost everything they had owned? How many had lost limbs? The numbers, if anyone ever bothered to even count, would be staggering. Momentarily, she wondered if Reeve managed to survive in the slums. She also speculated if some areas were more protected than others, or if it was just blind luck that judged who lived and who died. Either way, the loss of the largest city in the planet would have amazing effects on the world she knew. Maybe it was for the better, but maybe -

"Hey, kid! Where the hell are ya?"

Her thin lip twitched upward. Barret. "I'm right here, Barret," she answered blandly, pondering if he'd let such an unacceptable answer slide.

"That don't help, brat!"

Like clockwork, she mused. She began working her way through the crowd towards Barret, figuring where he was from the sound of his voice and angle at which she was facing. Of course, the fact that Barret was at least a head taller than everyone else helped. Coming next to him, she matched his pace, pivoting to face the mammoth man. "So, what's up?"

He merely jutted his jaw out in a 'look over there' fashion. "Lights," he stated, as if that were the answer to everything.

Scowling, she broke away from the group and tried to get a clear view of these 'lights' that Barret mentioned. As she moved further away from them, her acute dark eyes quickly picked up several small dots of light on the horizon. Candles, perhaps? "Ya see 'em now?" the rebel barked, annoyed.

"Yeah," she replied. "Yeah, I see them."

Kalm.

To be continued…