Nanaki snarled into the cavernous ceiling. His frustration bounced along the walls, echoing around him at the same frequency at which it was building inside his heart. He'd been calling Reeve for a half hour, and there was no doubt he was being ignored. How could Reeve do this, after all Nanaki had done and continued to do for him?! Reeve wouldn't have even known to send his blasted reinforcements to Yuffie without him, and this is the thanks he gets!

He paced, he grumbled, he growled.

He was now down to the last feasible option: if Reeve wouldn't help him, he would have to help himself. Midday tomorrow was better than staying here going stir-crazy, and if he ran more than he trotted he could shave hours off his trip.

He gingerly set his phone upon its charger so it could gain some power before beginning his preparations to depart.

Existing food stores had to be secured, and as time to hunt while travelling would be limited he needed to store some rations in his travelling pouch. Dried meat wasn't ideal, but it would suffice. He packed the meat underneath several layers of cloth, hoping to hide the smell from other predators, then gathered water into a few skins and hung them from the pouch along his sides. After a few more minutes of waiting, he slipped his phone into a pouch that secured around his neck and tucked the necklace underneath his mane.

Finally, Nanaki equipped his old travelling cloak. It wasn't one he wore often, since he typically wasn't bothered by environmental changes, but this cloak was special. Nanaki had made it from scraps of his grandfather Bugenhagen's clothing after his unfortunate passing during Sephiroth's crusade of destruction. At the time he had to stay focused and couldn't let himself feel sad, but upon returning to the Canyon Nanaki remembered sleeping with it for a at least a year, its familiar scent bringing comfort to his waves of grief. The musty scent enveloped him again and, for a few moments, it soothed his rage.

The calm allowed his former thoughts, of Vincent, of all his friends, to slip through. The finality of death for those he cared about wasn't something he was sure he'd ever come to terms with.
Look always to the eternal flow of time, which is far greater than the span of human life, he could hear his grandfather's words echo in his memories. He was meant to take comfort in forging ahead, in the ever-flowing river of time stopping for no single creature, eventually including himself, but…perhaps it was his stubborn nature, perhaps simply his naivety, but the thought of needing to continue ahead without his pack again, never seeing the people he cared about again, he couldn't take comfort in that.

With slow, deliberate steps he walked towards the edge of his home. From his vantage point overlooking most of Cosmo Canyon, he could see the gentle breeze rustling its way through tufts of grass and foliage many meters below. The wind held notes of distant rain, almost peppery in his nostrils from the density. Gooseflesh flared across his skin in silent anticipation.

He knew it was time to go.

Bugenhagen's scent became his aura, overpowering the horizon's rain, steeling his nerves.

Without another thought, he pounced from the top of the cliffside, bounding from rocky balcony to sturdy ancient boulder to reach the bottom of the Canyon with a level of grace only attainable by feline-folk. As soon as his claws gripped earth he began to sprint, speeding by lush new growth creeping into the Canyon from the plains beyond. If this growth continued, Nanaki mused, soon the Canyon would be a tropical paradise to rival Costa Del Sol. Scenery blurred around him. His thoughts continued. If the Canyon grew into a tropical climate, would Costa Del Sol become too hot to sustain its normal plant life?

He continued his bound over grassy hilltops, leaving the Canyon far behind him. Only now could he hear the sound of his breath overtaking his thoughts, the beat of his heart pounding against his eardrums. His heart…

No, this was louder. He gripped his claws into the delicate soil, tearing up the long grass as he grinded to a stop. He could hear his heart now, and although it pounded away it didn't sound with the force of a thousand war drums. It drowned out his thoughts and the jingling of his mane's decorations as he turned all around to search. Just as the sound came upon him, it began to fade. Remembering the only thing that followed such a pattern, Nanaki looked up. Sure enough, the shape of one of Reeve's helicopters was making its way towards the very direction he came from.

Nanaki felt relief and rage in equal measure.

As if on a cue, Nanaki's phone began to sound from within its pouch. He wriggled it free and checked the caller ID. What a surprise! It was Reeve. He swiped the 'answer' button with his nose.
Once the call connected, there was momentary silence before Reeve began with:

"Nanaki, I apologize for missing your call."

Calls, Nanaki mentally grumbled. There were several. "You must have been quite preoccupied," he said coldly, anger brushing against his lips like his tongue before biting into prey.

"I promise you'll forgive me once you hear why," Reeve said. The pace of his speech was quickened, the words rushing forth like water breaking through a dam.

That's quite a promise, Nanaki thought, biting back his urge to argue. As much as he trusted Reeve, he hated being ignored, hated being forced to sit idly by when he could help. There wasn't a reason he could think of right now that was good enough to justify it-not when a quick call switch to say "hey, call you back in a sec" could have been used to assuage his worry and frustration. Still, Reeve sounded awestruck; it was rare to hear him this shaken. And people rarely think clearly when surprised or under pressure. Nanaki remained silent, allowing Reeve to speak his peace.

"Vincent said the damnedest thing," Reeve blurted out. "I…had no time to clarify the details, but he may have information on a Return from the Lifestream."

A Return…

The word hung in the air, binding them to silence.

Nanaki felt the word slice into him, like pricks from thorny vines shredding his flesh as he ran through a forest. A thousand tiny cuts would stain his red fur crimson, but the stinging wounds wouldn't hit him until after he stopped to catch his breath, like now. Return ambushed him like a predator-the knowledge weighed heavy enough on his mind that it physically exhausted his muscles, and now that he'd stopped just a moment to rest it took its chance to strike.

"Who…" Nanaki breathlessly pleaded into the phone's mic. It was less of a word and more of a sound. Just as Reeve had been before him, Nanaki was mentally overwhelmed by images of long, silver hair, and destruction. This felt familiar. More familiar than the memory of Sephiroth from years past. Something important was trying to wedge itself back into the forefront of his mind.

"I don't know," Reeve readily admitted. "We were interrupted before I could get any more information," he paused, thoughtfully. "I suppose no bad news can still be considered good news, yes?"

Nanaki scoffed, which momentarily broke his tension. That was just the sort of thing Cait Sith would say. "You mean to imply that Vincent definitely would have told us if the worst had happened?"

"Without a doubt," Reeve said confidently. But was it confidence, or was he waiting for Nanaki to agree with him…?

Well, Nanaki thought, I suppose it wouldn't be logical to assume Vincent would leave a mortal threat be. Reeve, meanwhile, was attempting to convince himself of the same thing. Neither could think of many reasons why Vincent would choose to omit important information, but there was still a non-zero chance he would, if the gunman thought it necessary.

"Has the copter arrived?" Reeve suddenly asked, as if to distract them both.

"Yes," Nanaki remarked, flatly. "Though at this point I'll have to go back for it. I tried to call you to tell you to send one, but when you didn't pick up I decided it'd be faster to just find my own way rather than wait for you."

"Impulsive of you," Reeve stated. It was matter-of-fact with no hint of agitation.

"Better than loafing around and hoping for the best," Nanaki quipped. His frustration was creeping back, as well as his anxiety. He'd replayed his last conversation with Yuffie several times, searching for any detail that might be able to help, but without actually being with her, how much help could he really be? He paced in place as the memory of his friend screaming echoed in his mind for the millionth time.

"You got a new phone, didn't you?" Reeve continued, still calm.

"I don't see how that's relevant."
How in the world could Reeve have a normal conversation at a time like this?

"I don't have location data on your new device." Nanaki could hear Reeve typing in the background. "Just on your old one, which I'm assuming is put away at your home." More typing. "That's why the navigator missed you."

"Tracking," Nanaki stated. "So that's how you always find us in the nick of time."

"Nearly," was his response. "I'll have the navigator circle back to your location. It should take-"

Reeve's voice trailed away as Nanaki refocused his mental energies upon his memory. The feeling of being unable to grasp something was giving him the same anxiety he felt after several days of unsuccessful hunting. He'd nearly forgotten the pangs of despair from the complacency the Lifestream overabundance allowed him to feel. He hadn't had an unsuccessful hunt in months, which made him all the more unprepared for these new waves of uncertainty. Every time he started retracing his conversation with Yuffie, her final scream fogged up all the details and made his heart race.

"Nanaki," Reeve's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Should I let you go?"

"I'm trying to remember something I meant to tell you about Yuffie's circumstances during our first call," Nanaki admitted, frustration evident in his voice. "I almost had it."

"Could it really be so important if it was forgotten?" Reeve's tone didn't waver.

"I was trying to make the most sense out of the information that I had at the time," Nanaki insisted. "And I didn't have the clearest head when deciphering it."

"Have you tried going back to the beginning?"

Nanaki scoffed. "Of course," he said. It just keeps getting overshadowed by the end. He didn't say that part out loud, just hoped it was implied.

"Let me rephrase," Reeve replied, patiently. "Perhaps rumination is not the best way to recover this particular memory. I will ask you some questions on your perspective of the situation that you shouldn't need to think about, and maybe they will help shake the information you need loose."

"Okay." Nanaki sat on his haunches. Anything was better than the scream cut to silence his mind was playing on loop.

"You were speaking to Yuffie when she was attacked," Reeve began. "Why?"

"She called me because she was upset."

"Why was she upset?"

Nanaki paused briefly, considering his response. "There were a few reasons." He remembered being startled when he heard the springs of an old bed crash through the speaker as the ninja flopped onto it. He heard thunder. "She was staying in the mansion because of the storm. She mentioned being cold. And…" Remnants of Yuffie's voice played through Nanaki's mind, barely audible over the echo of her scream, but at least they could be heard now.
I know it was a shitty idea to come here, RED.

"She was upset that Vincent wasn't in the mansion," Nanaki finally said. "I tried to ask her why she thought he would be."

"What was her reasoning?" Reeve asked. He sounded genuinely curious.

"It…wasn't immediately clear," Nanaki hesitated again.
He's just…always been here, you know?
I get sent out to find him, I go here.
Whoosh he comes with his stupid cape.

She expected him to be there because he always was before. Before.

Say, Nan, do ya' think I've changed too?

You have changed, Yuffie. Everyone does. Everyone has to.
Our experiences shape and mold us to reflect them, and no one is immune to that.
Not me. Not even Vincent.

You're still the only one that answers my calls.

You're afraid of the rest of us changing. You don't want us to move on without you.

"Nanaki?" Reeve softly interjected. "You're not supposed to be lost in thought with this exercise," he said, in what Nanaki assumed to be a playful manner.

"Yuffie went to the mansion because she was trying to avoid Vincent," Nanaki decided. "At first I thought maybe she was just hoping her better instincts were wrong, but she isn't that kind of person."

"That doesn't sound like Yuffie," Reeve said. "She won't make you guess what she's thinking, she'll tell you. Loudly."

Nanaki shook his head. His jewelry sounded, but it was muffled over Reeve's speaker. "This wasn't a decision she consciously made. We spoke briefly about how uncomfortable she was with change, but we were interrupted."

"Interesting," Reeve said. "By what?"

"There was a loud crash. We thought it was just thunder, but then it happened again."

"Did you know at that point that Yuffie was in danger?" Reeve's voice was calm. Nanaki could hear him typing in the background.

Nanaki remembered his own words: tell me that was thunder.

"I wasn't immediately sure, but it didn't sound like thunder. I waited for Yuffie to respond, but she didn't…" He remembered whispering into the phone, threatening to call Reeve.

Don't go yet—

Don't go yet—

Don't go—

His friend's near-silent plea was beginning to overshadow the echo of her scream.

I didn't go. Nanaki told himself. I didn't mean to. He was sure she would understand. I tried to call you back. Nanaki didn't realize until that moment what a dumb idea that probably was, as if she would have been able to answer. His heart felt heavy.

Nanaki was a predator. He was a force to be reckoned with in the food chain. In the world of kill to eat, the world of escape or die, the world he was born to thrive in, there was no room for what-ifs, simply what is. Death was a companion he required to survive, and his instincts, now at war with his welling guilt, knew that such was also the case for whatever Yuffie had found herself ambushed by. If she hadn't survived, it would have been her own fault, not his. More accurately, she would have been a victim of the callous and chaotic cycle that eventually claims all living things. There's no fault in the cycle, it simply is.

But if instincts were all Nanaki lived by, he wouldn't have needed months to cope with Bugenhagen's death. He wouldn't have mourned the father he never got to know, the father he once despised, after learning of his sacrifice. He wouldn't have been overcome with blinding rage as Aerith's body fell limp from the end of Sephiroth's sword. He wouldn't feel anxiety churning in his stomach, or muscle tension with no release. Why was he given the capacity to think and feel when it only served to threaten his survival by making him reckless, or desperate?

It wasn't his own voice that answered him, but his grandfather's:

You already know why, Nanaki. The very things that bring you weakness can also bring you strength. To recognize the heights of triumph or joy, you must taste pain and defeat. To appreciate fullness, you must understand what it feels like to starve. Just as those who came before you, your time here is borrowed and will eventually need to be returned. To live is equally to die. The scent of Bugenhagen's cloak filled his nostrils and Nanaki suddenly felt surrounded by warmth. It was as if his grandfather had just given him a hug from the Lifestream, one Nanaki had been needing since the moment he realized he would never get another. The momentary respite from his anxiety would have allowed him the chance to cry if he didn't have more important matters to focus on. Thanks to Bugenhagen, his friend's last communication had finally shaken a realization loose.

"Yuffie told me whatever she was fighting was dead. She stressed, DEAD," Nanaki spoke quickly, theories racing through his mind. "I focused on the imminent threats, BIG, MUTATED, but we only knew of mortal wound recovery, not a physical return from the Lifestream. What if that's what Yuffie is facing? What if that's what Vincent faced- maybe that's how he knew it was possible." Nanaki barely stopped to breathe. "Yuffie is not incapable in combat, but she sounded overwhelmed- if she was up against something she'd fought and triumphed over before, I know she would be victorious again. She would know that."

Nanaki grew silent. His tail swished back and forth methodically. Both men could hear the beating of the helicopter's blades as it neared Nanaki's location.

"I'm speculating," Nanaki began.

"Speculation leads to hypothesis, which leads to discovery, which provides us truth," Reeve responded. "All of us are striving to understand the circumstances thrust upon our Planet, and every point of discovery gives us more knowledge."

"Before we found Vincent in the basement of the manor, we were cornered by a shapeshifting creature," Nanaki began again, this time more confidently. "It evolved its form based on the types of attacks used against it. I'd never seen anything like it."

"Shinra had its hands tied up in many crimes as you well know, the least of which included genetic experimentation on both the living and the dead," Reeve offered. "Before the SOLDIER program refined their 'techniques,' the most often result of Shinra's initial experiments was death. There were limited cases of survival, however. Vincent is one such example. The unfortunate creature you speak of may be another."

"We had to fight it as a group before," Nanaki stressed. "And if Cloud hadn't realized what it was doing, it would have gotten the better of us eventually." He remembered Barret's cussing echoing through the empty halls as his bullets bounced off the beast's hardened flesh like he'd thrown mere pebbles.

"Stop!" Cloud shouted; his normal even-tempered tone had been abandoned. "Use your materia instead." Nanaki remembered hanging behind Tifa and Cloud as they circled the giant beast. He wasn't as confident in materia use back then; it still wasn't his preference, not when he could use his claws and teeth instead. Barret was to his far right, Yuffie and Aerith were in front of the rest of the group, on the opposite side of the room. The vision of his comrades readying their magical spheres was painted across the backs of his eyelids as clearly as if he'd just witnessed it. Tifa and Barret were confident in Cloud's tactical expertise and followed his advice without hesitation- young Yuffie, though, she looked a bit more unsure… Nanaki saw her, just sixteen and gripping an ice materia so tightly it looked like her fingers were frosted over from lack of circulation. As the group let their respective spells fly and the monster screeched in pain, Nanaki could hear Aerith's voice cheering for them. She'd been playing support and sticking to the outskirts of the fight much like himself. Though unlike Nanaki, who had been relegated to the sidelines from being useless, it was a role she had chosen. The flames of long-forgotten anger lapped at his consciousness. In the moment, he watched Aerith lay a hand on Yuffie's shoulder, an encouraging and supportive gesture meant to reinforce her confidence in both her abilities and Cloud's plan.

What a nice gesture that was, he realized. He hadn't appreciated it until now. All this time he'd been using the memory as a weapon against himself, a reminder of a time when he wasn't good enough, a time when he was useless. He had a lot of memories like that. This must be how Vincent feels, Nanaki mused. It was the last thought he could muster before the beating blade of the helicopter became so loud he could no longer concentrate.

"Make sure someone reports as soon as the threat is neutralized," was the last thing he could hear Reeve say. Nanaki wriggled his phone back into his pouch as the vehicle neared him. As it got closer, he could see a small figure peeping at him from the open side. The vehicle continued to get bigger within his field of view as it neared the ground, but the figure remained comically small. He could see it doing something with its hands, but wasn't sure what until a voice boomed aloud, warring with the vehicle's overhead blade.

"WHO'S GOT TIME 'FER PAPERWORK?" The voice said, amplified by its megaphone, completing the puzzle. Reeve was not content being out of the field, it seemed. If he was antsy enough to bring out Cait Sith that validated Nanaki's own concerns, which was an undeniable comfort. One more ally in the fight to save another, one more body on the field to distract the foe, would always be welcome.