"...tendencies."
5: Fixation.
"You crazy homicidal freak."
Death Penalty pressed even harder against Tifa's temple. "It's a wise tongue that keeps silent when the head's in danger of being blown off."
"Vincent...you psycho you..." Tifa's brown eyes welled up with tears. "Vincent, this isn't you. C'mon, Valentine. I know you. You come into my bar about once a month. You sit in a corner and stew. You...you love Lucrecia. And even though you're a fantastic shot, you would never hurt anything unless you were in danger. Vincent...I know you, you would never..."
"Those who believe they know everything about a person are often unpleasantly surprised. You have no idea what I do in my spare time."
"Yeah? Neither do I. But unlike her, I probably don't care." Cloud's shadow appeared behind Tifa. "Put down the gun, man."
Vincent made no movement, but merely raised his eyebrows, his sightless orbs of eyes swiveling slowly to face the general direction of Cloud. "I have a...mission. I do not want to hurt you but I will do what I have to."
Cloud snorted. "What are you, a Turk again? I'm not falling for that crap. You pull that trigger, Vin, and I'll kill you. I won't even hesitate so much as a millisecond." The blonde man's eyes were narrowed. "You do not touch my friends, Vincent. Put down the gun. Whatever bizarre homicidal tendencies you have, you should know that if you shoot her, you're as good as dead. You can't be suicidal too."
Vincent smiled, and Tifa shuddered. It was unnatural, that smile...something sick and rooted in years of the twists and turns of psychological disorder. "Me? Not suicidal? Me?" His smile widened to a grin. "Oh Cloud, you almost make me laugh. What do you know about my tendencies? They fall in every possible way bloodstained tendencies can fall."
"You so much as touch her and I'll kill you so fast you won't have time to even think about your mission, not to mention complete it" said Cloud with a tensed jaw.
"The probabilities, however small, are worth the risk," said Vincent evenly.
Cloud's brow furrowed. "You're...obsessed. You're completely infatuated with this plan of yours. Willing to risk the life of yourself and your friends? What kind of fanatic are you?" he said, his voice more aghast than hateful.
"Obsession? Tendencies? Sometimes when we accuse others, the finger falls upon ourselves," pointed out Vincent. He suddenly shrugged. "I'll come back another day then. When the chances roll higher for me." Then he lowered the gun and simply walked away.
Cloud and Tifa watched Vincent disappear around the corner, swallowed up by the shadows and the moving mass of humanity that swamped Midgar. Tifa stared aghast at the spot Vincent had formally inhabited. "How...What in Hades got into him?" she said aloud to herself, more in shock than anything else.
"Bitterness," said Cloud calmly, "Can do wonders to people."
Tifa turned to look him, and her amber eyes narrowed. Slits. "I wouldn't be judging anyone if I were you, Cloud Strife. You who've committed the dirtiest, most perverse sin that this earth has. I'm surprised you haven't been struck down by lightning. You deserve some sort of ungodly punishment. "
Cloud took Tifa's head in both hands, kissing her sweetly on the lips. "Don't be bitter Tifa. Don't be jealous. It doesn't suit you. You're so beautiful...don't ever let those feelings make you ugly." Tifa's mouth opened and closed, like a asphyxiating fish, as she so often did after one of Cloud's bizarre comments. With nothing to say or do, she simply sighed, then sighed again, then wrapped her arms around Cloud's waist in a vain sort of effort to bring his soul closer to hers, and leaned her tired, worn head against his shoulder. "If this ever comes to some sane conclusion," she mumbled, "Cloud, let's go somewhere else. Let's leave Midgar and go somewhere peaceful and quiet where we'll be alone. Where we'll be happy and quiet and-"
"Clothes!" shouted Cloud, jerking upright with a snap of fingers.
"What?" asked Tifa, frazzled.
"Clothes!" he repeated. "Aeris needs clothes. She can't be her without...it wouldn't be right if she didn't have clothes. I'll get her clothes right now." "She can borrow some of mine," said Tifa, brow furrowed in confusion.
"No, no, she shouldn't wear your clothes, not that there's anything wrong with yours, it's just...she needs a dress. A pink one. Like the one she always wore. Wears. I've gotta go Tifa. I'll catch you later. Before dinner. Thanks lots Teef, you're the best, I gotta go now..."
And he ran off, lanky limbs flying, leaving Tifa alone in the middle of the dirty street.
"I swear to all the Gods in the sky," she said under her breath, watching him go, in a resigned, pained sort of tone. "If I find out he's only using me, I'll be the one who punishes him in some ungodly way."
Cry and
moan
A... dry place
call
to my
home
to find some place to rest
her
bones
Whilst the angels and devils
claim
her
own
Aeris rose from her bed, and gasped with shuddering internal horror to discover that this time, the bed she lay upon was no lake bed but one of dry earthly matters. Then, upon realizing that she was, indeed, alive, she began to cry. Because she had no idea why she was alive, if she really was alive, and because she missed the shivering sigh-like whispers of the lake of the ancients, her ancestors.
She got to her feet, pulling her robe about her like a personal shroud, denying her existence with all her soul, yet knowing with her gut it was true. But...why? ...how?
She opened the side door of the room, peering out into the mud sodden cobbled alley behind 7th Heaven. Usually it was home to a few stray drunks, but now it was mercifully alone save for Aeris' unintrusive figure standing on the stoop. Midgar. She remembered this place, faintly, stored somewhere in the back of her head. Her green eyes surveyed her surroundings, taking it all, every puddle and sour whiff of rotting garbage. This was new, it was original, it was, to her, truly real.
And then her eyes fell upon a scruffy ball of red-orange fur. Aeris took a few hesitant steps in its direction, then fell to her knees with a sob of a gasp. There, laying on the cold cold ground, was a fuzzy kitten of fiery ochre, the color of flame. But between its fuzzy nose and its sweet little tail with the crimson tuft upon it, the entirety of the feline's side was blown clear away, the wound quite clearly perpetrated by a gunshot. Aeris picked up the bleeding cat, finding that it's limp little body had no pulse, that it was cold and beyond repair. A tear fell from her eyes in sympathy, though the girl didn't no completely why she felt it's death so. Somehow, the cat reminded her of someone. And it reminded her that it was dead and she was alive and that life was so very fragile and it was so very easily destroyed and that was why it was beautiful. And maybe that was why she felt so ugly inside. So much...dirtiness...inside.
So she placed the cat in her lap, and closed it's glazed black button eyes and pet it, over and over again, and that was how Cloud found her.
"Aeris? Aeris. Hey, let's go."
Aeris blinked at Cloud. "Go...go where?"
"I'm gonna uh...I'm gonna take you shopping right now. Right now. c'mon, let's go."
She stroked a finger gently along the ruffled fur of the kitten. "But Cloud, look at the poor cat. Somebody shot it. It's so sad...it was only a baby..." she whispered softly.
Cloud didn't even bother to look down. "That's great Aeris, I mean, that's horrible. That's just...sick. Sick. But Aeris? We really need to go now. Shopping. We'll be right back, alright? We just need to go now."
"Now...but...why, I..."
"Aeris, please."
The flower girl rose to her feet, her robe clutched around her. "Alright Cloud, I'm coming now," she said, laying the kitten's crumpled body solemnly on the stoop. She had scarcely laid the cat's tiny skull on the pavement before Cloud grabbed roughly by her wrist and pulled her through the back of the house.
"Tifa! Back before dinner! Thanks again!" he yelled at her deadpan expression as he rushed out onto the twilight Midgar streets.
_________________________________________
"PINK, I told you pink," Cloud bawled in the face of the saleslady. "Pink. How hard is it to get that right?"
"But sir, this is pin-"
"It is not pink, it is magenta. I want something a light pink. More pastel, but not seethrough or anything like that. Pink, with a bow."
"Sir, I'm not quite sure we have something like that in stoc-"
"Well then get some in stock!" the man yelled in frustration. "Goddammit, the service here really sucks....huh? Whaddya want, Aeris?"
Aeris had tugged on the sleeve of her "guardian" face full of concern and bewilderment. "I don't need the same dress that I got before, Cloud. The one the lady got me is fine...I don't really mind-" She stopped when she saw the expression on Cloud's face. "...or pink is fine."
Cloud sat down, gently pulling Aeris down next to him as well. "Aeris, I'm sorry if I scared you. I just want...things to be like they were. Just like they were before, with you, and me. Just the same, that's all. You understand don't you?"
Aeris nodded mutely.
Cloud smiled, blue eyes innocent, and for a moment, Aeris believed the blue, the watery blue that reminded her of home. "Now sit here with the nice lady," he said to her, putting his hand on her shoulder lovingly. "And I'll be back with a surprise for ya." He grabbed his coat, stood up, and walked briskly out the door.
Just as he left, the saleswoman came back in, a pink dress with a bow in hand. "We had our resident tailor sew this up rush job for you," she said meekly. "We saw the sword that guy had. Whew. Why don't you put this on in the dressing room and see if this fits, hon?"
Aeris nodded, expressionless but for a quick nervous smile. "Alright, thank you very much."
The woman put her hands on her hips, shaking her head at the door. "Is your boyfriend always like that?" she asked. "He'd scare the hell out of me daily, if he were my man. I'd be scared that I'd wake up in the middle of night and find out he was trying to kill me for not being perfect or something. Hunh."
Aeris shook her head. "He's not, I mean, he is, I mean....I don't remember," she concluded softly.
The saleslady shrugged, and put the dress in Aeris' arms. "Well, whatever floats your boat. Dressing room's that way."
Looking rather lost, the girl nodded, smiled again, and entered the small room with the dress, pulling the curtain shut. She took off the dark brown dress Tifa had lent her, and studied herself in the mirror, hands flying automatically to her slim pale stomach. Intact. The skin was completely smooth, with nary a mark, nary a scar. She turned around, fingers feeling her spine. The same applied to the skin in that area. She pressed down on her stomach, remembering the sword, blades, remembering the the laugh, die, and Sephiroth's green eyes, drown. She remembered floating, she remembered her lake, return. And once again, the tears began to flow, unstemmed, so noticeable in the dry, dry air around her.
"What's taking her so long?" demanded Cloud through gritted teeth, standing outside the dressing room.
The saleswoman, safe behind her counter, only shrugged, with a "how the hell should I know" expression on her face.
Cloud tapped his foot against the room frenetically then abruptly stopped as the curtain opened.
There she stood, looking exactly as she had the last time he had seen her, pink dress, wan little face with the large green eyes. His breath stilled within him. "Aeris," he said with a grin. "You look great. Except your hair should be braided, can you braid hair?" he said with furrowed brow to the annoyed saleswoman, "Well, it doesn't matter just yet. You look absolutely wonderful. Oh, and I got you this basket, with flowers in it. It's a flowerbasket, for a flowergirl. Do you remember Aeris? Aeris?" He frowned. "Are you alright Aeris? Aren't you happy?"
"Oh yes," lied Aeris through her sheath of patted away tears, forcing a smile. "I'm fine." Her hand rested subconsciously on her stomach. Blades. "I'm just fine."