04

Spire

The sun sank low in the west, dipping it's belly under the horizon and yawning itself further and further away from Edge with a certain breed of lethargy. Its rays had faded from white to orange over the span of 20 minutes, and now the rum-colored skies were finally beginning to go with it. Trim of purple and blue hung on the atmosphere, saying farewell to the citizens under it.

Tifa had long since retired to her room after her display in the kitchen in front of Vincent. She could recall the whole thing like a bad movie that refused to linger anywhere but in her mind. Tifa cringed and her thoughts mingled together. 'What was I doing…? Vincent probably thinks I'm a weak-hearted fool.' Blinking, she drew her feet up closer to her face and rested her chin on them. 'Maybe he's going to leave too.'

X

He watched the sunset through his room's single window and despite himself, sighed slightly. When he'd stepped out of Lucrecia's cavern today, away from her eternal prison, Vincent had believed the past was all now finally behind him. Turning, he dropped his crimson gaze to study his shoes.

"Everything…is still here."

Even now, in this room, in this house, Vincent could feel Lucrecia like she was standing right beside him. Vaguely, he took his right hand and lifted it to his forehead; he moved his fingers in small circles in an attempt to ease the tension, but try as he might, the sick throbbing of his heart did nothing but continue hastily onward. Chagrin bit down on him hard, and his lips parted, but only to leak his usual silence.

It seemed that not even Vincent could bleed away another drop for Lucrecia, and he shamed himself for it. Here in this room it hit him harder than anywhere else, and for the first time in his life, he understood why.

Tifa's breakdown had been the same as Lucrecia's. For two very different reasons they most definitely were, but Vincent connected them on a parallel because of their magnitude. Looking at Tifa cry was like watching Lucrecia cry, and to him, it was further evidence of his own hand in their sorrows.

Blame forked it's tongue in his face, and Vincent stared it down in acceptance. The hardened years of his grief flooded him over, and he found himself in a sea of problems that he had caused. Inescapable, he knew. Most recently, Tifa's example was the most damning to him. If he had not mentioned Cloud, she probably could have swallowed that portion of her life without incident.

But of course, leave it to the silent ghost with the sin on his breath to drag someone like Tifa down all over again. Vincent replaced his hand at his side and somewhere in his throat welled the dark that had overflowed on him his whole life. He resolved that this time he knew the right thing to do, for Tifa's sake at the least.

The farewell glints of the amber sun criss-crossed over his face, and for a long while, he did nothing. The pallor of his lips turned orange in the light, and in a fleeting moment, he was a demon of another color altogether. But unlike the monsters that dwelled in his heart, Vincent knew he could control this turn of his life just like Lucrecia had taught him to control Chaos. Without another thought left in his mind to change it, Vincent put the small guest room behind his heels, and without turning back or saying goodbye, left Tifa in her own chambers.

X

For a while she lamented on how poorly she thought of her own behavior. Tifa frowned upon remembrance of all the alcohol she had consumed over Vincent, and the embarrassment she felt when she knew he had seen this. It was just not so lady like for a woman of her ability and good graces to be drinking her days away over someone who was capable of ripping Shinra to shreds with a handgun—or at least that's what Tifa thought of herself.

She smiled sadly and played with her hair. Still it was nice to know that she had finally been able to cry about something to someone. After all the time and the fights that she and Cloud had been through, and the man had never even given her much of his own time in return. Tifa half thought that she shouldn't blame him because it was her own fault for being so attentive to him, but seeing Vincent again had opened up her darker side. The look in his eyes—that raw, intense gaze—seemed so truthful. Tifa couldn't help but know he had read straight through to her inner core and seen the withering that she had been through over Cloud.

Shivering somewhat, she pulled a stray, split end out of her dark brown mane and flicked it away. "That's what Cloud thought of me as, probably." She exhaled and fidgeted some more with the bed sheets, noticing for the first time in ages that she was not wearing the ring he had given her with his name on it. 'Serves him right.' She felt bitter over memories of Cloud, and with a ravishing sigh, she pulled herself to the edge of the bed and got up. 'I shouldn't waste time on him anymore. Vincent was right, and for that, I owe him.'

She made her way to the door and out into the hallway; the twilight had set in, and waves of blue were permeating the house through the various open windows. The whole place seemed aloof and airy, almost hauntingly nostalgic, in evening's wake. Tifa swept her hair behind her shoulders and folded her arms against her sides in a resting manner as she approached his room. Her eyes focused on the shadows dancing at the edge of the light, and she entered on a friendly note of "Hello!"

The room was still and unchanged since Vincent's untimely departure. Even the covers on the new bedspread seemed immaculate, and not even the window had been touched or opened. Tifa's eyes grew wide at the emptiness, and she stared in disbelief for a moment.

"He's…"

A part of her almost began to feel horridly self-conscious of her own appearance to him as a human, but she stopped herself from going further. Her lips set in a straight line and she turned on her heel towards the stairs. "No," came the half-whisper out of Tifa's throat. "He couldn't think that he…?"

She called after herself on the way down the stairs. "I'm going out for a moment, children. Lock the door behind me!" Each step she flew down made a thunking noise as it came it contact with her old boots. 'He can't be far.' She suppressed the solemn worry that had welled in her gut and swallowed dryly.

"Vincent Valentine!" she grabbed the door handle and threw it open. Neither the streets nor Seventh Heaven answered her back as she closed it behind her and looked on either side of her person. "Where are you?" She gritted her teeth together and frowned. Violet embers of the sunken sun littered the sky, and here and there, the city turned varying shades of pastel purple. A few dim streetlights clicked on, and Tifa started off at a fast walk down the cobblestone pathway to her right.

X

He walked for a little while after leaving Seventh Heaven and then stopped at a place he'd seen several times before. Sitting on the edge of the rubble of the fallen square fountain, Vincent leaned his head back and stared at the empty sky, searching it for an answer. The puree of scattered clouds did little to stir anything within him, and eventually he gave up altogether.

"Lucrecia…"

He'd seen it all with his own two eyes. Her beauty, her death, her ghost; he grimaced as the memories struck a chord over his heart, and silently he wondered if she was in a place near paradise or if he had been insane thinking about her for so long.

His longing eyes glazed against the fading world above, and he exhaled softly.

"I don't want to hurt anyone anymore."

Somewhere in the back of his head he swore he heard a voice answer him back.

X

Thanks again for my lovely reviewers! I wish I could give all of you happy authoress muffins of gratitude, but alas, that's not very online friendly, is it?

:D

Anyways, sorry for such an uneventful chapter. I'm really tired xD

But I won't give up on this one!

Vincent-chan's story must be told!