Vincent stepped into the welcoming peace of Nibelheim and was hard put to repress a shiver. He hated this town. He had hated it on sight when he'd been sent here as a Turk. It reminded him too much of the torture he had endured, and the childhood hometown that he could never quite remember. Thirty years ago it had given him the disturbing feeling that it was hiding something, as if the gaps in his memory were somehow here, under the surface. And now it hid the horrible deed that Sephiroth had done. Nibelheim was a town with a lot of past, and most of it shoved under the rug by Shinra. Could it really be called peaceful anymore?
So why was he here again? Vincent chuckled morosely under his breath. It always came back to Nibelheim. He had nowhere else to go. He hated it, but it was all he had left. The basement of the Shinra Mansion had been his home for thirty years; he had dropped out of the world, and now it held no spot for him. He would have to live here, but perhaps only until Lucrecia made a final decision.
The gate of the mansion was hanging open, creaking a little in a light wind. Vincent walked along the flagstone path between the iron posts and, almost as an afterthought, closed the gate behind him. If he was going to claim this place, he might as well try and make it looked lived in. That, at least, might keep the curious away.
He was just turning to continue up the path toward the small stone staircase when something made him stop in his tracks. The huge double doors had been forced open, and not gently either. It looked as if the intruder had foregone all attempts at picking the locks and had resorted to bashing his way in, regardless of any who might chance upon the damage done. And it had to have been a large intruder. The door was weighty, made solidly of wood. Feeling strangely violated, Vincent walked through the splintered doors and into the dim lobby of the building.
The sunlight streamed hazily through the grimy windows, shedding a dusky glow on everything. Vincent might even have felt a pang of nostalgia at seeing the old room had he not found the intruder still roaming around the foyer. Seemingly oblivious to his audience, a monster, like an undead creature with wings crunched up at its shoulder blades, was sniffing at the air, its serpentine tongue flicking out almost invisibly from time to time.
As quietly as he could, Vincent pulled the Death Penalty from its holster at his hip and cocked it, aiming carefully for the creature's left side, where the heart would hopefully be. The beast, however, as though sensing a sudden malice in the air, turned just as Vincent fired the weapon and took the bullet in its shoulder. With a piteous moan it moved to face him fully and began to approach.
It was injured, as if it had recently been in a fierce battle. Both of its shoulders now were bleeding from grievous wounds, its torso was laced with jagged claw marks, and there was a long cut along its ribs that had soaked its left side with blood. Vincent wondered how it was still standing, but then decided it would be best to put the thing out of its misery first and ask questions later. He aimed to fire again.
But the beast wasn't ready to die just yet. With a growl, it jumped forward, swinging a massive claw. Vincent was forced into a tactical retreat that made him suddenly aware of how small an area he had to fight in. He'd become used to fighting in the open with a group of people where he'd had the space and the time to ready his weapon. In this situation, the Death Penalty wouldn't have been his weapon of choice. He would've much rather been using something fast and lightweight. But there was nothing for it. Holstering his gun, he reached under his cape and pulled out the dagger Tifa and Aeris had bought him.
The creature advanced on him again and, without an opening, Vincent had to retreat once more. He skimmed around the room, as close to the wall as he could without becoming trapped, and waited for the opportunity to strike. In a few moments he got his wish as the beast swung at him clumsily, and then had to recover its balance. Moving quickly, Vincent lunged forward with the dagger, intent on slashing one of its jugulars. But the monster was too wary to take its eyes from him. In turning to keep him in sight, it managed to move its neck out of range of the killing thrust. The blade only scratched its throat, though it was enough to make some blood dribble out. Vincent cursed and leapt out of the creature's reach before it could strike him with a counterattack.
The monster followed him tirelessly, throwing out its arms and sometimes missing Vincent by mere inches. The gunman knew he couldn't keep up this game of cat and mouse forever. Perhaps he would have to rely on Chaos for this battle, or he would have to leave the mansion for now. He was just trying to decide whether going for his limit break was such a good idea in an enclosed space when he heard the sound of small running footsteps.
The creature evidently heard them, too, for it suddenly broke off its pursuit of Vincent to follow the new prey. Sniffing anxiously, it lumbered across the room, and there was suddenly someone screaming. Without hesitating, Vincent used this turn of events to his advantage and jumped onto the beast's broad shoulders.
The growl it gave was like a shout of rage and pain, and it swung around, trying to throw its unwelcome rider free. But Vincent was determined that this should be the end. He brandished the dagger and began to plunge it into the monster's shoulders and neck. With a roaring cry, the creature began to buck violently and Vincent lost his hold. With a grunt, he fell to the floor. He was worried for one second that he wouldn't be able to regain his feet before the thing came after him, but it seemed to have had all it could take. With a crouch that lowered it nearly to the ground, it propelled itself upward and outward through one of the many dirty skylights. The sound of shattering glass was omnipresent for a moment, and then silence descended.
Vincent stood and, after cleaning and sheathing the dagger, started walking toward the other intruder in his house. It wasn't obvious at first, but after a few steps he realized that what had originally looked like a pile of rags was in fact a quivering child huddled on the floor. As he approached, the child gave a pitiful wail and hunched into a tighter ball. He stopped walking.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he told the frightened youth. "You can get up."
The child gave no sign of wanting to move. Vincent sighed and crouched down beside the mass of dirty clothes and limbs. "You're all right. Get up."
The child raised a head of messy curls, revealing a pinched, pale face. She couldn't have been more than five or six, though she was slight even for that age with sallow cheeks and thin arms peeking out from a too big shirt. An orphan most likely, and who knew how long she'd been living alone in the mansion?
"Do you have parents in the town?" he asked her quietly. The way she continued to stare at him, silent and wary, made him wonder if she even understood him. "Can you speak?" he tried again.
She began to tremble and whispered something with quivering lips, but even with his enhanced hearing Vincent was unable to pick up what she'd said. He leaned in closer as she repeated it and she shied away, her voice becoming louder. "Go away, go away, go away!"
It was obvious she'd put some claim on the house. He sighed again and sat back, weary from the battle. "I am not going to go away," he told her. "I live here."
This seemed to surprise her. She gazed at him for a few seconds as if to challenge what he'd said. "I live here," she whispered, but whether she was restating her claim or just echoing him wasn't clear. "Who are you?"
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "I will not carry on a conversation with you if you're going to continue huddling on the floor."
The girl studied him again, judging his sincerity, before sitting up. "Tell me who you are," she persisted.
She was articulate for a youngster. "My name is Vincent," he told her.
"Vincent." A small pink tongue darted out of her mouth to lick at her chapped lips and she took a few moments to look him over. When she next spoke, it was in a decisive tone as if she was stating something absolute. "I'm not going back."
To the orphanage, Vincent assumed. "You want to stay here?"
She stared at him unblinkingly, not saying anything.
Vincent sighed. "Is there somewhere I can take you?"
The girl stiffened suddenly. "Don't take me back," she told him sternly.
"No, I won't take you back. But you can't stay here." What Vincent knew about children you could fit on the head of a pin. Would any of his friends know what to do? With a grunt, he lifted himself to his feet and dug his PHS out of his pocket.
The girl stood by his side. "What are you doing?" she asked.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, not really planning to say anything, but something caught his attention. The collar of her shirt had slipped down over one tiny shoulder and there were markings there on her arm that were not from dirt. Curious, he crouched down in front of her again and beckoned her to him. She hesitated.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he told her.
She paused a moment more, but the fact that he hadn't hurt her yet made her trust him a little. Slowly, she shuffled toward him. When she was close enough, Vincent gently took her arm in his flesh hand and pushed the sleeve up to her collarbone. The markings were clear enough now for Vincent to make them out, and what he saw made him tense up suddenly. It looked like an identification mark: I-AS. And there was no doubt in his mind where it had come from, where she had come from. He grabbed her tightly in his hands as if she was about to try to run and demanded, "Where did you come from?"
The girl squirmed in some fright. "Let go!" she pleaded. "You're hurting me!"
He realized that he was probably pinching her with his metal fingers and loosened his grip. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I need to know where you got those markings."
She stared back at him sullenly. Vincent sighed. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he told her. "I was just...surprised."
The girl continued staring at him. "You have red eyes," she observed suddenly.
"Do you know who gave you these marks?" Vincent persisted.
The girl's eyes filled unexpectedly with tears. "The monster was chasing me," she whispered shakily. "It wants to take me back."
Vincent leaned in closer to her, relaxing his grip further. "Back where?" he asked.
The girl shook her head and closed her eyes. Tears began to make tracks down her grubby cheeks.
Vincent watched her for a moment before deciding that he'd better cap this before it turned into a crying fit. "Do you have a name?" he asked her.
She looked up, her bottom lip still quivering. "Spearmint," she said.
Vincent frowned. "What?"
The girl frowned back at him in concentration. "X...X-spearmint one."
Experiment one. Vincent stood again and retrieved his discarded PHS.
Tifa plopped herself into a wooden chair in her nearly empty house, running a weary hand through her tousled hair. It had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet. Late afternoon was slowly drifting into early evening, gently touching the sky with the warning signs of sunset, and there was still so much to do.
That morning, she had put a down payment on a house in Kalm. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy staying with Aeris and Cloud at Elmyra's house, but she felt the need to move out on her own, start her own life. Again. This house had been for sale for a while, so the price had been lowered considerably from its first offer. After looking it over carefully, she had decided that it was just what she wanted and had paid in cash. She, Cloud, Aeris, and Elmyra had spent almost all afternoon lugging some extra furniture from Elmyra's place into Tifa's new home. Fortunately, the house wasn't far away, and Cloud had managed to carry most of the heavy stuff by himself, such as a table and dresser. Elmyra's spare fridge had taken all of their efforts, as had the old stove. Tifa didn't have the frame for a bed yet, but Elmyra had been able to spare a box-spring and a mattress, at least giving Tifa somewhere lay her head at night.
She was trying to decide if maybe everything else that had to be done could wait until tomorrow when there was a knock at her open door. Without waiting for an answer, Cloud leaned his head in and smiled at her.
"May I come in?"
"You may," Tifa answered.
Cloud entered and glanced over the virtually empty living room with a thoughtful expression. And then he started nodding. "This place has a lot of potential," he said. He pointed at a spot near the kitchen. "You could put a bar counter in right there."
Tifa smiled. "Yeah. That's one of the reasons I bought this place. It looked as if it might be able to help me start my life again. And I think this old, unwanted house needed me as much as I needed it."
Cloud smiled at her and looked ready to come and sit down beside her when his PHS began to ring. He dug into his shirt pocket and pulled it out, flipping it open in the same motion.
"Hello? Vincent! How're you doing? Good. So what's new? What?" He glanced around and settled himself down on a box. "A...monster? Okay. Huh, we fought one of those yesterday. I gave it quite a slice on the shoulder with my...what? Yeah, the left shoulder." He paused for a moment, listening. "Hmm, it might be the same one. And a girl?" His expression became serious. "You're sure? Okay, where are you? Right. I'll call Cait and see if he can get a helicopter to bring you and the girl to Kalm. Okay. Bye."
He flipped his PHS shut and then open again. Tifa leaned in toward him in some curious concern and he glanced at her before punching in some other numbers. "Hello, Cait? It's Cloud. Yeah, we're doing all right. Um, listen, do you know if Reeve can get us that helicopter again? Yeah, well, we need him to pick Vincent up at Nibelheim and bring him to Kalm. Yeah, actually I would prefer if you would come, too. Good. Thanks a lot, Cait. Yep, see you soon."
Tifa had stood from her chair and was now standing close to Cloud as if she'd been trying to hear the conversation through his other ear. When he flipped the PHS shut and put it back into his shirt pocket she gave him an expectant look. He just shrugged and headed for the door.
Tifa followed him doggedly as he headed for Elmyra's house. "What was that all about, Cloud? What did Vincent say about a monster?"
Cloud shook his head and shrugged again. "I'm not sure," he called over his shoulder. "And I know you're not going to like this, but I'm going let Vincent explain when he gets here."
Half an hour after the PHS call from Cloud, a helicopter landed outside of Nibelheim. Cait Sith was already aboard, bouncing excitedly at the door as he ushered the passengers in. "C'mon, c'mon! Cloud's tone sounded urgent, and it's already been thirty minutes! Hurry!"
Vincent climbed into the helicopter, a small girl in his arms with her own hands wrapped tightly around his neck. He sat down in one of the padded black seats and let go of the child, motioning that she should move over to the seat beside him. She shook her head stubbornly and remained where she was. Vincent didn't urge her again.
Cait looked at the girl in confusion. "Two passengers?" he muttered as the helicopter took off, piloted by a Shinra navigator. "Who's the girl?"
Vincent merely shrugged. The girl stared in curious interest at the stuffed moogle-and-cat standing before her.
"You mean you just picked her up off the street and brought her with you?" Cait demanded.
Vincent sighed. "Of course not," he said. "She is the reason I called Cloud."
"Vincent saved me," the girl said suddenly. "From the monster. He said I don't have to go back."
Cait raised his furry eyebrows and pushed at the crown that sat on his head. "I don't think I understand."
"You will," Vincent told him. "I'll explain everything when we reach Kalm."
That seemed to appease the small cat for the time being and he sat back for the remainder of the ride.
Tifa was the first to spot the craft landing outside of Kalm, calling to the others as she ran to the door. Vincent and Cait were just disembarking when the others joined her, and they all watched as Cait Sith approached, his moogle bouncing forward gaily, and Vincent followed with a dirty bundle in his arms.
At a signal from Cait Sith, the helicopter took off into the air, heading back to Midgar. Tifa glanced at it momentarily before turning back to observe the small procession. Cloud had said something about a girl over the PHS. Was that what Vincent held? If so, she had to be small.
Tifa's questions were addressed when the bundle moved suddenly to turn a white little face toward the house. It was hard to tell at first, but as they drew closer it seemed that the child was afraid. Was she an orphan, or some poor street urchin? Of all of the people in their group, Tifa thought Aeris the most likely to want to help those less fortunate than herself, not Vincent. And yet, at the moment she couldn't think of any other explanation. Better to wait and find out from Vincent himself why he'd brought the child.
As Vincent brushed past those who stood in the doorway the women cooed a bit over the girl, who for her part clutched at the gunslinger's shirt and buried her face deeper in its folds. It wasn't until they had all gathered in Elmyra's living room and had started talking amongst themselves and to Vincent that the girl finally gained the courage to peer around.
"What did the monster look like?"
"You said it had a slash wound on its left arm."
"Yes."
"Could it be the same one?"
"It had other wounds also, scratches along its ribs and another cut with a weapon."
"Well, we didn't give it those wounds."
"What does the girl have to do with the monster?"
"It was pursuing her."
"Pursuing her? Why?"
There was suddenly a pregnant pause. Vincent drew a breath. "I believe Hojo was trying to recapture her."
The room became silent. The girl began to struggle and, obligingly, Vincent placed her upright on the floor.
"You think Hojo is still alive?" Cloud asked seriously, his voice betraying no disbelief or doubt, only curiousity.
"If not, then the monster has a very long memory for its orders."
"And you're sure she's from Hojo?"
Vincent said nothing, but leaned down toward the girl. She seemed to flinch a little as he reached for her sleeve but she let him draw it upward until the black-inked tattoo was visible. There were a couple of gasps.
"Like the ones the monster had its arm!" Tifa exclaimed.
Vincent glanced at her sharply, as if another piece had fallen in to convince him further that it was Hojo.
"Did you see a mark on the monster?" Aeris asked him.
"No, but it was badly injured. The tattoo may have been covered in blood."
Silence reigned again for nearly a full minute until Elmyra took it upon herself to say, "Well, the child must be tired. Maybe we could give her a bath and find something else for her to wear. I think Marlene left a couple of dresses that had grown to small for her."
The others in the room stirred and Aeris nodded. "I'll take her upstairs. Tifa, would you help me?"
"Sure." They both took a step toward the girl but stopped when she flinched backward and took a defiantly fearful hold on a crease in Vincent's pants.
Aeris glanced into the stoic man's face. "Vincent, would you?"
He looked down at the girl. "Go with them. They're friends of mine. You'll be safe."
She stared up at him with, if not blind trust, a kind of tried faith that had had too many people turn against her suddenly, and let go of his pants. In a moment, she was being led upstairs.
"Poor child," Elmyra clucked, and then she turned to her remaining guests to ask, "Would anyone like some tea?"
It wasn't long before the girl was being led back down the stairs, clean and groomed and dressed in one of Marlene's discarded dresses. No longer looking the part of a street urchin, she looked like she could've been a girl of the town, except for the skinniness of her bones and the fierce wariness of her eyes. Once back on the main floor, she scampered over to where Vincent was sitting in an armchair and sat down beside his outstretched legs, putting one hand out to grasp at the material of his pants as if to convince herself that he wasn't about to disappear.
"She said she doesn't have a name," Aeris reported as if it was the first order of business. "Any suggestions?"
Everyone was thoughtful for a minute.
"What about Syra or Mirelle?" Elmyra said finally. "Those seem to be the most popular names at the moment."
Aeris turned to the girl. "What do you think? Syra or Mirelle, or do want some other choices?"
The girl said nothing for a few moments, and then, as if it had come to her, declared suddenly, "Syra."
"All right, Syra it is then," Tifa said.
Cloud still looked thoughtful. "It's not good enough for us to know that she came from Hojo if we don't know where Hojo is, or even if he is still alive."
"Well, does she know where she came from?" Cait Sith asked.
Syra was starting to droop against Vincent's shin. He noticed and replied for her. "She may not. I wasn't able to get an answer from her earlier."
"Well, it's no wonder." Elmyra walked into the room and picked the girl up into her arms. "Chased by a monster and then forced to trust a group of strangers. And who knows how long its been since she's eaten or slept in a bed. I think it's time someone thought of her for a few minutes. I'm taking her upstairs. Aeris, can she have your room?"
"Of course. I'll sleep on the floor of your room, Mom, if that's okay."
Elmyra nodded and started for the stairway, but she'd barely taken half a dozen steps before Syra was coming wide awake and stretching out her arms, her hands reaching toward where Vincent sat. Elmyra turned to him.
Vincent stood from his chair. "I'll take her." He stepped up to Elmyra and Syra clambered into his arms.
"Aeris' room is the one on the left," Elmyra told him. Vincent nodded and disappeared up the stairs with the girl comfortably settled in his arms, her face hidden in his shoulder.
"Poor thing," Elmyra mumbled. "He's pretty strongly imprinted on her."
"Maybe Vincent's the first person she's been able to trust," Tifa said quietly. The man was stoic and reserved and perhaps not the most friendly of their group, but he was soft-spoken and trustworthy, and for a child who had been in Hojo's keeping those two things would probably be just as important as any other. Maybe more so.
There was a moment or two of silence before Cloud stood from the couch. "Well, I don't think we're going to learn any more tonight."
Tifa nodded resignedly. "I'm going home to bed."
"That sounds like a good idea," Aeris said. "Good-night Tifa, good-night Cloud. You don't mind sleeping on the couch again, do you?"
Cloud shook his head. "It'll be fine. Thanks for putting up with me this long."
Elmyra smiled at him as she and her daughter headed for the stairway. "It's no problem, Cloud. We'll see you in the morning."
Once Aeris and her mother had gone upstairs, Tifa turned to Cloud. "You'll come and get me, won't you Cloud, before anything's decided tomorrow morning?"
"You bet." A small smile quirked at his lips and Tifa rejoiced to see it. He smiled so rarely now. "Will I get to see you in your pajamas?"
She leveled a glare at him. "You're a dirty man, Cloud Strife."
He chuckled suddenly, and there was mirth in the sound. "I'll see you tomorrow, Teef. Get some sleep."
"You, too."
Tifa turned and walked out of the house. As she strode across the square in the darkening evening, her boots thudding noisily in the silence, her mood followed the sun, sinking further and further down. Why couldn't the adventure just end? She wished with all of her heart that tonight she could sleep for the sake of sleeping, not for the sake of the adventure she would be facing tomorrow.
Vincent awoke in the night to unfamiliar surroundings, though he knew in a moment where he was. Cloud had provided him with a mattress from Elmyra's basement and there, on the floor of the living room, he'd fallen into a shallow slumber. Beside him, on the couch, Cloud snored softly, one hand dangling freely in the air. But Cloud's snoring wasn't what had awakened him.
The small sound came again from upstairs, a quiet whimper from behind a closed door, a sound of fear and helplessness. Moving softly, Vincent stood from the mattress and headed up the stairs. Already he felt a kind of responsibility toward the child, and he felt it his duty to make sure that she didn't wake the others if she was having a nightmare. Silently, he opened the door to Aeris' room and then closed it behind him.
His enhanced sight allowed him to see Syra, curled up in a fetal position, her tiny fists stuffed under her chin. She had kicked off her blankets and would likely wake soon from the chill. Doing his best not to stir her, he pulled the sheet up from the bottom of the bed and furled it up to her shoulders.
He hadn't made any noise, but perhaps the presence of someone else in the room was enough. She woke suddenly with a start and cowered away from him in terror as if he was the nightmare she'd been having come to life. She might've cried out if Vincent hadn't spoken first.
"Hush. It's me. Go back to sleep."
In a moment, Syra was kneeling on the bed and pushing herself into Vincent's arms. "He's here," she kept whispering fearfully. "Don't let him take me. He's here to take me back."
After a few seconds of trying in vain to get her to lie down again, Vincent allowed the child to burrow herself into his shirt. "There's no one here. No one is going to take you back. Now go back to sleep, Syra." They were going to need her help the next morning, and getting the information out of her would probably tax her mentally and emotionally. He tried to back out of her embrace, pulling gently at her arms. She gave a loud whimper of protest and tightened her grip.
"Don't go," she whispered. "He'll take me away."
Vincent sighed. Perhaps it would've been better if he'd let the child wake Aeris or her mother. They would've been better at this kind of thing. "All right, I won't go. Lie down and I'll stay here on the floor."
After a moment, she seemed to accept this. Releasing her hold on him, she lay back onto the bed and let Vincent tuck her into the blankets. In a few minutes, her breathing lengthened as she fell again into a deeper sleep, apparently completely assured of her safety with her protector in the room.
And Vincent, accepting his role as simply as she had bestowed it, sat down on the floor beside the bed to wait for morning.
So why was he here again? Vincent chuckled morosely under his breath. It always came back to Nibelheim. He had nowhere else to go. He hated it, but it was all he had left. The basement of the Shinra Mansion had been his home for thirty years; he had dropped out of the world, and now it held no spot for him. He would have to live here, but perhaps only until Lucrecia made a final decision.
The gate of the mansion was hanging open, creaking a little in a light wind. Vincent walked along the flagstone path between the iron posts and, almost as an afterthought, closed the gate behind him. If he was going to claim this place, he might as well try and make it looked lived in. That, at least, might keep the curious away.
He was just turning to continue up the path toward the small stone staircase when something made him stop in his tracks. The huge double doors had been forced open, and not gently either. It looked as if the intruder had foregone all attempts at picking the locks and had resorted to bashing his way in, regardless of any who might chance upon the damage done. And it had to have been a large intruder. The door was weighty, made solidly of wood. Feeling strangely violated, Vincent walked through the splintered doors and into the dim lobby of the building.
The sunlight streamed hazily through the grimy windows, shedding a dusky glow on everything. Vincent might even have felt a pang of nostalgia at seeing the old room had he not found the intruder still roaming around the foyer. Seemingly oblivious to his audience, a monster, like an undead creature with wings crunched up at its shoulder blades, was sniffing at the air, its serpentine tongue flicking out almost invisibly from time to time.
As quietly as he could, Vincent pulled the Death Penalty from its holster at his hip and cocked it, aiming carefully for the creature's left side, where the heart would hopefully be. The beast, however, as though sensing a sudden malice in the air, turned just as Vincent fired the weapon and took the bullet in its shoulder. With a piteous moan it moved to face him fully and began to approach.
It was injured, as if it had recently been in a fierce battle. Both of its shoulders now were bleeding from grievous wounds, its torso was laced with jagged claw marks, and there was a long cut along its ribs that had soaked its left side with blood. Vincent wondered how it was still standing, but then decided it would be best to put the thing out of its misery first and ask questions later. He aimed to fire again.
But the beast wasn't ready to die just yet. With a growl, it jumped forward, swinging a massive claw. Vincent was forced into a tactical retreat that made him suddenly aware of how small an area he had to fight in. He'd become used to fighting in the open with a group of people where he'd had the space and the time to ready his weapon. In this situation, the Death Penalty wouldn't have been his weapon of choice. He would've much rather been using something fast and lightweight. But there was nothing for it. Holstering his gun, he reached under his cape and pulled out the dagger Tifa and Aeris had bought him.
The creature advanced on him again and, without an opening, Vincent had to retreat once more. He skimmed around the room, as close to the wall as he could without becoming trapped, and waited for the opportunity to strike. In a few moments he got his wish as the beast swung at him clumsily, and then had to recover its balance. Moving quickly, Vincent lunged forward with the dagger, intent on slashing one of its jugulars. But the monster was too wary to take its eyes from him. In turning to keep him in sight, it managed to move its neck out of range of the killing thrust. The blade only scratched its throat, though it was enough to make some blood dribble out. Vincent cursed and leapt out of the creature's reach before it could strike him with a counterattack.
The monster followed him tirelessly, throwing out its arms and sometimes missing Vincent by mere inches. The gunman knew he couldn't keep up this game of cat and mouse forever. Perhaps he would have to rely on Chaos for this battle, or he would have to leave the mansion for now. He was just trying to decide whether going for his limit break was such a good idea in an enclosed space when he heard the sound of small running footsteps.
The creature evidently heard them, too, for it suddenly broke off its pursuit of Vincent to follow the new prey. Sniffing anxiously, it lumbered across the room, and there was suddenly someone screaming. Without hesitating, Vincent used this turn of events to his advantage and jumped onto the beast's broad shoulders.
The growl it gave was like a shout of rage and pain, and it swung around, trying to throw its unwelcome rider free. But Vincent was determined that this should be the end. He brandished the dagger and began to plunge it into the monster's shoulders and neck. With a roaring cry, the creature began to buck violently and Vincent lost his hold. With a grunt, he fell to the floor. He was worried for one second that he wouldn't be able to regain his feet before the thing came after him, but it seemed to have had all it could take. With a crouch that lowered it nearly to the ground, it propelled itself upward and outward through one of the many dirty skylights. The sound of shattering glass was omnipresent for a moment, and then silence descended.
Vincent stood and, after cleaning and sheathing the dagger, started walking toward the other intruder in his house. It wasn't obvious at first, but after a few steps he realized that what had originally looked like a pile of rags was in fact a quivering child huddled on the floor. As he approached, the child gave a pitiful wail and hunched into a tighter ball. He stopped walking.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he told the frightened youth. "You can get up."
The child gave no sign of wanting to move. Vincent sighed and crouched down beside the mass of dirty clothes and limbs. "You're all right. Get up."
The child raised a head of messy curls, revealing a pinched, pale face. She couldn't have been more than five or six, though she was slight even for that age with sallow cheeks and thin arms peeking out from a too big shirt. An orphan most likely, and who knew how long she'd been living alone in the mansion?
"Do you have parents in the town?" he asked her quietly. The way she continued to stare at him, silent and wary, made him wonder if she even understood him. "Can you speak?" he tried again.
She began to tremble and whispered something with quivering lips, but even with his enhanced hearing Vincent was unable to pick up what she'd said. He leaned in closer as she repeated it and she shied away, her voice becoming louder. "Go away, go away, go away!"
It was obvious she'd put some claim on the house. He sighed again and sat back, weary from the battle. "I am not going to go away," he told her. "I live here."
This seemed to surprise her. She gazed at him for a few seconds as if to challenge what he'd said. "I live here," she whispered, but whether she was restating her claim or just echoing him wasn't clear. "Who are you?"
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "I will not carry on a conversation with you if you're going to continue huddling on the floor."
The girl studied him again, judging his sincerity, before sitting up. "Tell me who you are," she persisted.
She was articulate for a youngster. "My name is Vincent," he told her.
"Vincent." A small pink tongue darted out of her mouth to lick at her chapped lips and she took a few moments to look him over. When she next spoke, it was in a decisive tone as if she was stating something absolute. "I'm not going back."
To the orphanage, Vincent assumed. "You want to stay here?"
She stared at him unblinkingly, not saying anything.
Vincent sighed. "Is there somewhere I can take you?"
The girl stiffened suddenly. "Don't take me back," she told him sternly.
"No, I won't take you back. But you can't stay here." What Vincent knew about children you could fit on the head of a pin. Would any of his friends know what to do? With a grunt, he lifted himself to his feet and dug his PHS out of his pocket.
The girl stood by his side. "What are you doing?" she asked.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, not really planning to say anything, but something caught his attention. The collar of her shirt had slipped down over one tiny shoulder and there were markings there on her arm that were not from dirt. Curious, he crouched down in front of her again and beckoned her to him. She hesitated.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he told her.
She paused a moment more, but the fact that he hadn't hurt her yet made her trust him a little. Slowly, she shuffled toward him. When she was close enough, Vincent gently took her arm in his flesh hand and pushed the sleeve up to her collarbone. The markings were clear enough now for Vincent to make them out, and what he saw made him tense up suddenly. It looked like an identification mark: I-AS. And there was no doubt in his mind where it had come from, where she had come from. He grabbed her tightly in his hands as if she was about to try to run and demanded, "Where did you come from?"
The girl squirmed in some fright. "Let go!" she pleaded. "You're hurting me!"
He realized that he was probably pinching her with his metal fingers and loosened his grip. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I need to know where you got those markings."
She stared back at him sullenly. Vincent sighed. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he told her. "I was just...surprised."
The girl continued staring at him. "You have red eyes," she observed suddenly.
"Do you know who gave you these marks?" Vincent persisted.
The girl's eyes filled unexpectedly with tears. "The monster was chasing me," she whispered shakily. "It wants to take me back."
Vincent leaned in closer to her, relaxing his grip further. "Back where?" he asked.
The girl shook her head and closed her eyes. Tears began to make tracks down her grubby cheeks.
Vincent watched her for a moment before deciding that he'd better cap this before it turned into a crying fit. "Do you have a name?" he asked her.
She looked up, her bottom lip still quivering. "Spearmint," she said.
Vincent frowned. "What?"
The girl frowned back at him in concentration. "X...X-spearmint one."
Experiment one. Vincent stood again and retrieved his discarded PHS.
Tifa plopped herself into a wooden chair in her nearly empty house, running a weary hand through her tousled hair. It had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet. Late afternoon was slowly drifting into early evening, gently touching the sky with the warning signs of sunset, and there was still so much to do.
That morning, she had put a down payment on a house in Kalm. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy staying with Aeris and Cloud at Elmyra's house, but she felt the need to move out on her own, start her own life. Again. This house had been for sale for a while, so the price had been lowered considerably from its first offer. After looking it over carefully, she had decided that it was just what she wanted and had paid in cash. She, Cloud, Aeris, and Elmyra had spent almost all afternoon lugging some extra furniture from Elmyra's place into Tifa's new home. Fortunately, the house wasn't far away, and Cloud had managed to carry most of the heavy stuff by himself, such as a table and dresser. Elmyra's spare fridge had taken all of their efforts, as had the old stove. Tifa didn't have the frame for a bed yet, but Elmyra had been able to spare a box-spring and a mattress, at least giving Tifa somewhere lay her head at night.
She was trying to decide if maybe everything else that had to be done could wait until tomorrow when there was a knock at her open door. Without waiting for an answer, Cloud leaned his head in and smiled at her.
"May I come in?"
"You may," Tifa answered.
Cloud entered and glanced over the virtually empty living room with a thoughtful expression. And then he started nodding. "This place has a lot of potential," he said. He pointed at a spot near the kitchen. "You could put a bar counter in right there."
Tifa smiled. "Yeah. That's one of the reasons I bought this place. It looked as if it might be able to help me start my life again. And I think this old, unwanted house needed me as much as I needed it."
Cloud smiled at her and looked ready to come and sit down beside her when his PHS began to ring. He dug into his shirt pocket and pulled it out, flipping it open in the same motion.
"Hello? Vincent! How're you doing? Good. So what's new? What?" He glanced around and settled himself down on a box. "A...monster? Okay. Huh, we fought one of those yesterday. I gave it quite a slice on the shoulder with my...what? Yeah, the left shoulder." He paused for a moment, listening. "Hmm, it might be the same one. And a girl?" His expression became serious. "You're sure? Okay, where are you? Right. I'll call Cait and see if he can get a helicopter to bring you and the girl to Kalm. Okay. Bye."
He flipped his PHS shut and then open again. Tifa leaned in toward him in some curious concern and he glanced at her before punching in some other numbers. "Hello, Cait? It's Cloud. Yeah, we're doing all right. Um, listen, do you know if Reeve can get us that helicopter again? Yeah, well, we need him to pick Vincent up at Nibelheim and bring him to Kalm. Yeah, actually I would prefer if you would come, too. Good. Thanks a lot, Cait. Yep, see you soon."
Tifa had stood from her chair and was now standing close to Cloud as if she'd been trying to hear the conversation through his other ear. When he flipped the PHS shut and put it back into his shirt pocket she gave him an expectant look. He just shrugged and headed for the door.
Tifa followed him doggedly as he headed for Elmyra's house. "What was that all about, Cloud? What did Vincent say about a monster?"
Cloud shook his head and shrugged again. "I'm not sure," he called over his shoulder. "And I know you're not going to like this, but I'm going let Vincent explain when he gets here."
Half an hour after the PHS call from Cloud, a helicopter landed outside of Nibelheim. Cait Sith was already aboard, bouncing excitedly at the door as he ushered the passengers in. "C'mon, c'mon! Cloud's tone sounded urgent, and it's already been thirty minutes! Hurry!"
Vincent climbed into the helicopter, a small girl in his arms with her own hands wrapped tightly around his neck. He sat down in one of the padded black seats and let go of the child, motioning that she should move over to the seat beside him. She shook her head stubbornly and remained where she was. Vincent didn't urge her again.
Cait looked at the girl in confusion. "Two passengers?" he muttered as the helicopter took off, piloted by a Shinra navigator. "Who's the girl?"
Vincent merely shrugged. The girl stared in curious interest at the stuffed moogle-and-cat standing before her.
"You mean you just picked her up off the street and brought her with you?" Cait demanded.
Vincent sighed. "Of course not," he said. "She is the reason I called Cloud."
"Vincent saved me," the girl said suddenly. "From the monster. He said I don't have to go back."
Cait raised his furry eyebrows and pushed at the crown that sat on his head. "I don't think I understand."
"You will," Vincent told him. "I'll explain everything when we reach Kalm."
That seemed to appease the small cat for the time being and he sat back for the remainder of the ride.
Tifa was the first to spot the craft landing outside of Kalm, calling to the others as she ran to the door. Vincent and Cait were just disembarking when the others joined her, and they all watched as Cait Sith approached, his moogle bouncing forward gaily, and Vincent followed with a dirty bundle in his arms.
At a signal from Cait Sith, the helicopter took off into the air, heading back to Midgar. Tifa glanced at it momentarily before turning back to observe the small procession. Cloud had said something about a girl over the PHS. Was that what Vincent held? If so, she had to be small.
Tifa's questions were addressed when the bundle moved suddenly to turn a white little face toward the house. It was hard to tell at first, but as they drew closer it seemed that the child was afraid. Was she an orphan, or some poor street urchin? Of all of the people in their group, Tifa thought Aeris the most likely to want to help those less fortunate than herself, not Vincent. And yet, at the moment she couldn't think of any other explanation. Better to wait and find out from Vincent himself why he'd brought the child.
As Vincent brushed past those who stood in the doorway the women cooed a bit over the girl, who for her part clutched at the gunslinger's shirt and buried her face deeper in its folds. It wasn't until they had all gathered in Elmyra's living room and had started talking amongst themselves and to Vincent that the girl finally gained the courage to peer around.
"What did the monster look like?"
"You said it had a slash wound on its left arm."
"Yes."
"Could it be the same one?"
"It had other wounds also, scratches along its ribs and another cut with a weapon."
"Well, we didn't give it those wounds."
"What does the girl have to do with the monster?"
"It was pursuing her."
"Pursuing her? Why?"
There was suddenly a pregnant pause. Vincent drew a breath. "I believe Hojo was trying to recapture her."
The room became silent. The girl began to struggle and, obligingly, Vincent placed her upright on the floor.
"You think Hojo is still alive?" Cloud asked seriously, his voice betraying no disbelief or doubt, only curiousity.
"If not, then the monster has a very long memory for its orders."
"And you're sure she's from Hojo?"
Vincent said nothing, but leaned down toward the girl. She seemed to flinch a little as he reached for her sleeve but she let him draw it upward until the black-inked tattoo was visible. There were a couple of gasps.
"Like the ones the monster had its arm!" Tifa exclaimed.
Vincent glanced at her sharply, as if another piece had fallen in to convince him further that it was Hojo.
"Did you see a mark on the monster?" Aeris asked him.
"No, but it was badly injured. The tattoo may have been covered in blood."
Silence reigned again for nearly a full minute until Elmyra took it upon herself to say, "Well, the child must be tired. Maybe we could give her a bath and find something else for her to wear. I think Marlene left a couple of dresses that had grown to small for her."
The others in the room stirred and Aeris nodded. "I'll take her upstairs. Tifa, would you help me?"
"Sure." They both took a step toward the girl but stopped when she flinched backward and took a defiantly fearful hold on a crease in Vincent's pants.
Aeris glanced into the stoic man's face. "Vincent, would you?"
He looked down at the girl. "Go with them. They're friends of mine. You'll be safe."
She stared up at him with, if not blind trust, a kind of tried faith that had had too many people turn against her suddenly, and let go of his pants. In a moment, she was being led upstairs.
"Poor child," Elmyra clucked, and then she turned to her remaining guests to ask, "Would anyone like some tea?"
It wasn't long before the girl was being led back down the stairs, clean and groomed and dressed in one of Marlene's discarded dresses. No longer looking the part of a street urchin, she looked like she could've been a girl of the town, except for the skinniness of her bones and the fierce wariness of her eyes. Once back on the main floor, she scampered over to where Vincent was sitting in an armchair and sat down beside his outstretched legs, putting one hand out to grasp at the material of his pants as if to convince herself that he wasn't about to disappear.
"She said she doesn't have a name," Aeris reported as if it was the first order of business. "Any suggestions?"
Everyone was thoughtful for a minute.
"What about Syra or Mirelle?" Elmyra said finally. "Those seem to be the most popular names at the moment."
Aeris turned to the girl. "What do you think? Syra or Mirelle, or do want some other choices?"
The girl said nothing for a few moments, and then, as if it had come to her, declared suddenly, "Syra."
"All right, Syra it is then," Tifa said.
Cloud still looked thoughtful. "It's not good enough for us to know that she came from Hojo if we don't know where Hojo is, or even if he is still alive."
"Well, does she know where she came from?" Cait Sith asked.
Syra was starting to droop against Vincent's shin. He noticed and replied for her. "She may not. I wasn't able to get an answer from her earlier."
"Well, it's no wonder." Elmyra walked into the room and picked the girl up into her arms. "Chased by a monster and then forced to trust a group of strangers. And who knows how long its been since she's eaten or slept in a bed. I think it's time someone thought of her for a few minutes. I'm taking her upstairs. Aeris, can she have your room?"
"Of course. I'll sleep on the floor of your room, Mom, if that's okay."
Elmyra nodded and started for the stairway, but she'd barely taken half a dozen steps before Syra was coming wide awake and stretching out her arms, her hands reaching toward where Vincent sat. Elmyra turned to him.
Vincent stood from his chair. "I'll take her." He stepped up to Elmyra and Syra clambered into his arms.
"Aeris' room is the one on the left," Elmyra told him. Vincent nodded and disappeared up the stairs with the girl comfortably settled in his arms, her face hidden in his shoulder.
"Poor thing," Elmyra mumbled. "He's pretty strongly imprinted on her."
"Maybe Vincent's the first person she's been able to trust," Tifa said quietly. The man was stoic and reserved and perhaps not the most friendly of their group, but he was soft-spoken and trustworthy, and for a child who had been in Hojo's keeping those two things would probably be just as important as any other. Maybe more so.
There was a moment or two of silence before Cloud stood from the couch. "Well, I don't think we're going to learn any more tonight."
Tifa nodded resignedly. "I'm going home to bed."
"That sounds like a good idea," Aeris said. "Good-night Tifa, good-night Cloud. You don't mind sleeping on the couch again, do you?"
Cloud shook his head. "It'll be fine. Thanks for putting up with me this long."
Elmyra smiled at him as she and her daughter headed for the stairway. "It's no problem, Cloud. We'll see you in the morning."
Once Aeris and her mother had gone upstairs, Tifa turned to Cloud. "You'll come and get me, won't you Cloud, before anything's decided tomorrow morning?"
"You bet." A small smile quirked at his lips and Tifa rejoiced to see it. He smiled so rarely now. "Will I get to see you in your pajamas?"
She leveled a glare at him. "You're a dirty man, Cloud Strife."
He chuckled suddenly, and there was mirth in the sound. "I'll see you tomorrow, Teef. Get some sleep."
"You, too."
Tifa turned and walked out of the house. As she strode across the square in the darkening evening, her boots thudding noisily in the silence, her mood followed the sun, sinking further and further down. Why couldn't the adventure just end? She wished with all of her heart that tonight she could sleep for the sake of sleeping, not for the sake of the adventure she would be facing tomorrow.
Vincent awoke in the night to unfamiliar surroundings, though he knew in a moment where he was. Cloud had provided him with a mattress from Elmyra's basement and there, on the floor of the living room, he'd fallen into a shallow slumber. Beside him, on the couch, Cloud snored softly, one hand dangling freely in the air. But Cloud's snoring wasn't what had awakened him.
The small sound came again from upstairs, a quiet whimper from behind a closed door, a sound of fear and helplessness. Moving softly, Vincent stood from the mattress and headed up the stairs. Already he felt a kind of responsibility toward the child, and he felt it his duty to make sure that she didn't wake the others if she was having a nightmare. Silently, he opened the door to Aeris' room and then closed it behind him.
His enhanced sight allowed him to see Syra, curled up in a fetal position, her tiny fists stuffed under her chin. She had kicked off her blankets and would likely wake soon from the chill. Doing his best not to stir her, he pulled the sheet up from the bottom of the bed and furled it up to her shoulders.
He hadn't made any noise, but perhaps the presence of someone else in the room was enough. She woke suddenly with a start and cowered away from him in terror as if he was the nightmare she'd been having come to life. She might've cried out if Vincent hadn't spoken first.
"Hush. It's me. Go back to sleep."
In a moment, Syra was kneeling on the bed and pushing herself into Vincent's arms. "He's here," she kept whispering fearfully. "Don't let him take me. He's here to take me back."
After a few seconds of trying in vain to get her to lie down again, Vincent allowed the child to burrow herself into his shirt. "There's no one here. No one is going to take you back. Now go back to sleep, Syra." They were going to need her help the next morning, and getting the information out of her would probably tax her mentally and emotionally. He tried to back out of her embrace, pulling gently at her arms. She gave a loud whimper of protest and tightened her grip.
"Don't go," she whispered. "He'll take me away."
Vincent sighed. Perhaps it would've been better if he'd let the child wake Aeris or her mother. They would've been better at this kind of thing. "All right, I won't go. Lie down and I'll stay here on the floor."
After a moment, she seemed to accept this. Releasing her hold on him, she lay back onto the bed and let Vincent tuck her into the blankets. In a few minutes, her breathing lengthened as she fell again into a deeper sleep, apparently completely assured of her safety with her protector in the room.
And Vincent, accepting his role as simply as she had bestowed it, sat down on the floor beside the bed to wait for morning.