Red roses mean love

By kimetara

Multi-part

AN: Hey all, sorry about the longer wait for an update; been busy trying to get my driver's permit and settling in at fictionised.net (it's a new fanfic site - go look!  lol, the forums are the best).  Yep.  One year anniversary of this fic...wow...  Well, R&R please!

Chapter Fourteen

          "So," Tifa started as they walked down the gangplank.  "How's everybody been?"

          "Pretty good," Nanaki replied lazily.  "You?"

          "I've been alright," Tifa smiled.  "How about you Vincent?"

          "I'm fine."

          "You sure?" she asked lightly.

          "Yes."  Inwardly Tifa frowned, then bit her lip.  It was none of her business, it was none of her business...yes it was dangit, she cared about Vincent!  But that didn't mean he had to tell her...

          The short walk to Gongaga was fairly quiet.  None of them were good at idle chatter – that had been Yuffie, Cait Sith, and Aeris' job.  Besides, Tifa didn't feel like talking at the moment.

          At first, it seemed Gongaga hadn't changed – it still held that quiet, mournful aura.  But as they grew closer, sounds of construction and people talking livened up the atmosphere.  The group stopped in shock at the sight that met their eyes.

          There were construction workers everywhere!  Rebuilding old houses, talking to the residents, widening the circle inside the think forest.  In the distance, they could see similar movement around the old reactor, although it was too far to tell what they were doing.

          And in the center of it all, chatting with a few residents and giving out orders, was...Reeve.  He looked just like before, blue suit, goatee and all.

          "Reeve?" Tifa gasped, before hurrying forward, Vincent and Nanaki following.  "Reeve!  Hey!"

          The ex-Shinra employee turned and swept over the crowd quizzically, before grinning and waving.  "Hello!"

          Tifa, Vincent, and Nanaki finally managed to make it through the bustling rush, and she grinned brilliantly at him.  "Wow, what's going on here?"

          "We're rebuilding," Reeve explained quickly.  "With Midgar a ruin, many people need new places to live.  This," he gestured towards the little village, "would house the people in the slums, especially if we manage to turn that reactor site into a housing area."

          "I see."  Tifa sighed.  "The survival count wasn't high then."

          "No.  I'm sorry," he replied gently, before glancing around her.  "Hullo Vincent, Nanaki.  Doing well?"

          "Very," Nanaki answered cheerfully.  "How's the reconstruction coming?"

          "Pretty good so far.  We're only about 35% done, but all of the residents have been wonderful," he smiled at the elderly couple he'd been talking to.  The old man nodded.

          "We're happy to help.  I wonder though..." he glanced over all of them, "perhaps you've heard of a SOLDIER named Zack?  Now that Shinra's fallen, we've been expecting him to come home, but..."

          Zack.  *These are Zack's parents,* Tifa realized.  What could she say?  The only thing she knew about him was that she once led him up Mt. Nibel...

          "He won't be coming home," Vincent spoke quietly.  Tifa's gaze shot up, then glanced hurriedly at the old couple.  She had figured he had died in Sephiroth's attack, but...

          The man's shoulders slumped, and the woman nodded, silently beginning to weep.  They both suddenly appeared so much older...  "We thought as much.  Please...if you know...how did he...?"

          "He died of bullet wounds while doing his duty."  Vincent laid it plain, bare – no sympathy, no grief, no judgment.  Just a fact.

          "I see."  He placed an arm around his crying wife.  "Thank you.  We'll be going now..."  The two turned around and shuffled away.  Reeve turned to Vincent and lifted an eyebrow.

          "How do you know about him?"

          Vincent didn't reply.

          Tifa was frowning.  "Don't you think that was a rather...harsh way of replying?"

          "It's the truth."

          "But..." she shrugged helplessly.  "Would it have been so bad to let them think he was still alive?"

          Vincent lifted his gaze to some faraway point in the distance.  "Death is needed for closure.  Better to feel pain and heal than wait for a false hope."  Abruptly, he turned around and walked away.

          Tifa restrained herself from following, instead turning her attention to Reeve.  True, perhaps, but they were so old...they couldn't have many years left in them.  Would it have been wrong to let them live the remainder of their years dreaming...?  Who's to say they would heal before they died?

          Reeve's voice broke her thoughts before she could answer herself.  "So, what're you guys doing here?"  Tifa blinked back into the tangible world.

          "Ah...well, we're..." she trailed off, then motioned to the pot she was carrying.  Reeve's eyes lit up.

          "Flowers!  Amazing, I've never seen this kind.  We'll have to replant it right away," he decided, taking the plant from her.  "Flowers are so rare nowadays..." he sighed.

          Tifa nodded shyly.  "Yes, that's what I thought too.  We were going to plant a few around the cemetery..." she hesitated.  Reeve frowned, then shook his head.

          "Not of this kind.  It has too much life to go in a cemetery.  It'll be wonderful around the houses though."

          "That's fine too," Tifa agreed thoughtfully.  "I know a flower that might work well in the cemetery.  It's back on the Highwind-"

          "The Highwind!" Reeve interrupted.  "You've brought the Highwind?  Is Cid here?  Or any of the others?"

          "Yes, yes, and no," Nanaki replied.  "The Highwind is right past the outskirts of this village."

          "Amazing!" Reeve grinned.  "I'm going to go pay Cid a visit, alright?  You guys make yourselves comfortable; Mr. Farol up there will provide you with a place to rest."  He waved up towards the northeastern corner and hurried off, plant tucked in his arm.  Tifa smiled fondly.  That was Reeve – always busy doing something.

          "Perhaps we should go look for Vincent?" Nanaki suggested after a moment.  She shook her head.

          "He'll be back when he wants to be," she told him, then brushed a strand of hair back.  "Well Nanaki, why don't we take a look around?"

          "Fine with me."

          11:49.  Almost midnight.

          Tifa sat on the doorstep of Mr. Farol's house, waiting.  She'd been waiting since Nanaki and she had decided to turn in at 9:30, her thoughts drifting away on nothingness.  Distance.

          She felt more than heard Vincent's fluid approach, by some instinct knowing he was there.  Slowly, she withdrew from the emptiness.

          "You should be asleep."  His voice carried the slightest hint of reproach.

          "So should you," she retorted quietly.  Tifa didn't rise from the step, and so Vincent sat down beside her.

          It wasn't the first time this had happened.  Ever since the argument in Wutai, Tifa had developed a habit of making sure he was safely in bed before she slept.  The first time, he had been wandering past 3 am, and was shocked to see her sitting on the outskirts of Costa Del Sol.

*****

          "Vincent!  Where have you been?"

          "What concern is it to you?"

          "What are you talking about?  You're part of the team, of course it concerns me!"

          "Don't look out for me."

          "Can't help it.  I'll stay and wait up for you every night if I have to."  And she'd grinned cheerfully at him and motioned to the door, waiting for him to enter before following him inside.

*****

          The next night, he had gone out again, although this time he returned at 1.  Sure enough, she was waiting.

          Vincent's walks no longer went past midnight.  One in the morning, if absolutely necessary.  The responsibility of someone waiting for him cut them short.  In the beginning the restriction had been faintly irritating, but as time passed he grew to welcome the knowledge.  Some time afterward they had developed the habit for talks, if Tifa felt the need.  He rarely spoke of himself.

          "What's troubling you?" he asked her, his voice calm.  Calm, and strangely soothing to Tifa's ears.

          "Well..." she hesitated, then continued.  "Do you have...trouble...with your transformations?"

          "Why do you ask?"

          She paused.  "...do you?"

          Vincent didn't reply.  He merely watched her, waiting.

          So, this is what it came down to.  Which one gave in first.  Tifa knew she'd never win in a battle of wills against Vincent – the man had a liquid steel core.  But she wouldn't lose either.

          "Nevermind."  Tifa stood up abruptly.  "Good night, Vincent."  And for the first time in almost half a year, she left him on the doorstep.

          Inside her room, Tifa began to feel the slight stirrings of guilt.  He had done so much for her and she just left him there...but it hurt, being left out like that.  She had thought of Vincent as her best friend, and, well, assumed he felt the same way.  Stupid of her, really.

          Or was she being stupid now?  Even if he did think of her as a good friend, that didn't mean he'd reveal something confidential to her.  Vincent was a very private person...and she had always wanted him to open up to her.  Sometimes it seemed he was, and sometimes...she had to wonder whether he ever told her anything that held personal meaning to him, or just things that really didn't mean anything.  Tidbits thrown out to keep her happy.  The thought brought a tinge of indignation and embarrassment.

          Tifa fell asleep wondering what tomorrow would bring.  She had a sinking feeling it would be...awkward.