The beginnings and endings of life
Mind and soul, heart and body…
All come into conflict.

Genesis
Vengeance
by Jess Angel

6ii

Tifa slowly and quietly reentered the Weapons Shop.

Her brow furrowed in confusion.

Why was she creeping around anyway?

She mentally shrugged off any insecurity and walked towards the nearest weapons on display. Against a corner wall leaned intricately carved staffs. The brunette carefully began to reach for one resting between two others.

"Where have you been?"

The jumbling knocks of wood against wood resounded as a startled Tifa struggled to save the unbalanced rods.

Ah, maybe that was why.

Tifa quickly realigned the staffs and whirled around to face an armed-crossed Vincent. The brunette attempted to give him a smile. Despite his posture, his tone sounded casual enough. So… he wasn't angry. "I saw Reno. He was outside… Elena too. I just thought I'd drop off Reeve's food, that's all." She slowly progressed towards him.

Vincent uncrossed his arms. "…You should have told me."

Maybe he was only a little angry?

Well… now that she really looked at him he seemed - pouty. It was rather adorable really… Not that she thought he was adorable. Adorable - just wasn't a word one associated with Vincent.

Tifa's smile widened. However, the nickname that came to mind, 'Vincent the Pouting King', was adorable. Vincent didn't seem at all amused, and she doubted he would be if he found out the reason behind her suddenly growing smile.

…Maybe he was more than a little angry?

Okay, she'd admit. She wasn't quite an expert on the man just yet. For a second, Tifa seriously thought there should be a class dedicated to the gunman called 'Interpreting Vincent Valentine 101'. She guessed the only logical explanation for his response was Cloud must've been rubbing off on him. Tifa was about to start the 'I don't need a babysitter' speech again, but softened when she realized that this was Vincent. This was Vincent, and she had been completely rude by abandoning him….

Wait.

She had abandoned him.

She had abandoned him.

Perhaps her skills were improving after all.

"I'm sorry, Vincent." She felt horrible. "I'll tell you next time. …I'll remember. Promise." Tifa touched his shoulder. "Forgive me?" Her eyes pleaded.

He was silent… "There's no need to apologize."

She was confused. "But-"

"It wasn't my place." His eyes lowered. "Where you go is your business."

What? Tifa's hand slipped from his shoulder. What was he talking about? "Vincent, you make it sound as if you're intruding in on my life." Her voice grew soft. "You're not."

What had happened? How had the mood changed so suddenly? And how had he so easily turned this on himself? Yes, his words had stung her, but Tifa could tell that they weren't directly aimed at her.

Why was he hurting himself?

Tifa's mind struggled to find a way to cheer him, to make this better. …She felt her mouth creep up into a grin. "You just looked so enraptured with those guns. You weren't paying me any attention!" She mocked annoyance, giving him a friendly shove on the arm.

Vincent did a slow double take.

What now? Tifa raised her eyebrows in question.

"…Jealous?"

She ignored the blush that threatened to rise. "Ha ha. Very funny." Wishing away the traitorous pink, the brunette silently berated herself…. It's not like it's true.

As they exited the store, Tifa thought aloud, "Cloud should've been done by now."

Vincent nodded to himself in agreement. "You want to find him."

Taking hold of his arm, she replied, "Don't you?"

He looked down at the young woman whose hand lay in the crook of his arm. "Yes… I… I think it would be best."

"Uh huh." She grinned up at him. "And of course, Vincent Valentine knows what's 'best' for Little Miss Lockheart."

She felt the tense muscles in his arm relax.

"Naturally."

Outside, the evening sky was considerably darker - almost black. Still, in the heart of a cloudless night, the moon continued to radiate its white light. And the two AVALANCHE members proceeded to make their way to the gym.


While they walked, the couple took pleasure in one another's company as well as the calm of the evening. Tifa had just begun to tell Vincent a tale that dated back to a time long ago - her early childhood. It was one of the few precious and happy memories during her upbringing in Nibelheim that she wished to share…

"I remember wanting to be a chocobo for Halloween so badly." Tifa smiled in recollection. "I must've been about five or six. …When my dad found out they didn't have any chocobo costumes, he made me my very own."

They continued their steady pace.

"It turned out pretty good too… but there was one vital element missing." The brunette grinned, "And guess who I went to for that missing 'chocobo' piece?" She answered for him, "Cloud."

"Keep in mind, this was before I knew my dad had made a mask to go with the outfit." She held back a laugh. "I basically asked Cloud if he could make my hair look like his." She released a few chuckles. "Poor guy. …But y'know, to me, it was the perfect finishing touch for my ensemble as 'Tifa the Little Chocobo'." She rolled her eyes slightly to the right.

Vincent was powerless to stop the short laugh that followed her little admission.

"Exactly." And Tifa couldn't help but like the deep, yet warm timbre of it.

It was a rare occurrence, his laugh, one that she wouldn't mind hearing repeated more often. The brunette favored him with a sideways smile. "Any embarrassing stories you want to let me in on?"

Before that moment, Vincent had never felt more inclined to smile back… so quickly too. …He almost did.


Suddenly, the rest of the world was tuned out when a familiar sound caught Vincent's attention.


It burned the air with its speed, cutting the atmosphere. His enhanced hearing would be able to pick up that deadly whistle - that quiet discharge, anywhere. It was a sound impossible for the average human to hear. A next-to-silent death.

A bullet.

One shot.

They had to be good…

Snipers.

"Vincent?"

He placed a hand in front of her, communicating a halt.

"Vincent, what's wrong?" Her eyes turned to look before her.

Even though they had been so close to one another, Tifa hadn't seen that Cloud was outside. He was only yards away, the dim glow of streetlights sweeping the road between them. Yet, this - this wasn't right. Something was wrong with this picture. Something was very wrong. It was written on the swordsman's face.

It was spilt on his shirt.

The blond stood still, eyes widened. A look of surprise was painted across his features, as he looked forward… straight at - seemingly through - his friends. His body slightly tilted towards them, the fight for balance manifesting itself.

Cloud touched his heart and raised his hand to see…

Tifa gasped.

His fingers bled.

"Oh my God… Cloud!" Tifa cried as her childhood friend fell to his knees.

Death Penalty was cocked and ready. Vincent held her back and scanned the area. He couldn't allow Tifa to foolishly charge out to him. "Get down," he firmly commanded, pulling her low as he slightly crouched. He listened for another trigger… none.

Vincent's mind and eyes worked at a furious pace.

The shot had been fired from a height… a building.

On the left.

His eyes darted up the two-story structure.

There.

Only one.

The shadow quickly retreated from the edge of the rooftop, and crimson orbs swept around the vicinity. There was an alley. Vincent immediately spied the fire escape leading to the top. He could follow. Vincent looked at the brunette. "Go. See to him."

The raven-haired man relinquished his grasp from Tifa and advanced towards the deserted passageway. But before he could proceed any further, the former Turk's nimble steps ceased… A thought stopped him cold.

This was planned.


The rumors…

What rumors?

…unfamiliar personnel…

None… matched… our registered workers.

…there have been sightings…

…in different parts of the city.

Spies?

For who?

I'm sure it'll blow over soon.

…cold, Tif?

Goodnight, Mr. Strife.


Vincent's grip on his gun tightened.

He turned.

He couldn't leave an unprepared Tifa and wounded Cloud. He would not take that chance. If this was planned, someone was probably watching. Whoever they were, they were probably prepared. They were ready. Maybe, waiting.

Vincent took out his PHS - Reno and Elena were nearby.

The PHS returned back beneath the folds of his red cloak, forgotten. Vincent hurried to his fallen comrade and the kneeling woman at his side.


Tifa's bare hands pressed firmly against Cloud's chest. The wound seeped stark red through his shirt and onto her skin. She struggled in vain to keep the life's fluid inside his agonizingly still body.

"Tifa?"

She continued to concentrate on exerting pressure on the injury. "Cloud, don't speak." She felt the sharp sting of tears at the weak sound of his voice. "Y- you need to save your energy."

Vincent came to kneel at the blond's other side, reaching to feel the pulse under the swordsman's neck.

"Vincent, am I doing this right?" Tifa's voice wavered, the emotion still thick - no matter how hard she tried.

"You're doing fine, Tifa."

"No," Cloud interjected.

They both looked at him.

…He needed to speak.

Now more than ever.

"Cloud, please," her voice quietly begged. "Save your strength."

"No," he repeated and tried to shake his head. "I never…"

"I never told you, Tif…" He swallowed, focusing hard on the glistening ruby eyes above him, "How beautiful and amazing you are."

"Shh, it's okay." Her lips pressed together.

It wasn't. "I'm not gonna… leave this world… without telling you that."

"Cloud. That's good enough."

No, it wasn't.

He wanted to tell her again. "You're amazing, Tifa… Always were." A strangely peaceful smile found its way to his lips. "And beautiful." The wounded man managed slow and steady breaths. "I only wish," he could keep going.

Tifa pressed harder.

"Wish… I had… told you soon-"

"Cloud, stop. Don't say anything else." Her vision glazed. "You're going to be fine Cloud, just fine." Her voice was shaking. There was too much blood.

It was too close to his heart.

Tifa couldn't see. It was too blurry.

But she refused to let them fall….

They did anyway.

"You'll see." Tifa tried to nod. She absolutely refused to believe the worst. She didn't want the truth. She wiped angrily at the wetness on her cheeks, the back of her hand slick with tears. "Then, you'll have all the time in the world… You'll be fine, Cloud."

His voice was soft. "I know."

She couldn't take this. She couldn't take this any longer. God, how could he be so calm? He- he was so calm. Why couldn't she be? Tifa finally fell against his bleeding chest, clutching his body to hers. The restricted sobs choked free.

Cloud turned half-lidded eyes up to where Vincent knelt, on his right. His blue eyes moved down to the young woman in his arms. Maybe it was better this way. "Vincent," he reached out a hand.

The older man instantly took it, "Cloud." His red eyes welled with a sadness that warmed the swordsman's heart.

Cloud inhaled as he felt a sharp pain within him. "You're a good man. Live and take care…" The pressure increased around Vincent's hand. "Please, tell everyone… I…" The dark-haired man gave him a firm nod. "Take care of yourself." Cloud's eyes drifted down and then up again, "Promise." Vincent followed his gaze…

"I will." He looked back at the blond, his metal claw reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Thank you for everything."

The swordsman looked deeper into the other man's eyes and smiled faintly. "No, thank you. My friend." Then Cloud let go, turning back to the woman sobbing on his chest… on his heart.

Tifa wearily pulled back, searching her childhood friend's face.

He smiled again, this time up at her. This was how he wanted to die. Slowly, Cloud placed a hand on his chest, "You're in here. Always."

Tifa could taste the tears on her lips. With purpose, she raised a hand to her own heart and willed her voice to work. "And you're in here… always."

Cloud raised a hand to her tear-streaked face, "Always." His fingers swept down her skin in one smooth motion, pausing for the briefest moment at her feel. His hand then ran past her cheek… and plummeted to the unforgiving ground.

Mako blue closed to the world, sealing Cloud Strife in an endless slumber.

"Cloud… Cloud!" She shook him gently, "Cloud, no! No, no, no- don't go-"

"Please… please, don't leave." Her sobs devastated the air. "Don't leave… don't leave me… not yet." Her arms enveloped him, and she rocked back and forth. "God, please no," her fingers ran through his blond locks. "No…"

Tifa's cries finally drowned into the quiet. When a hand warmed her shoulder, she stood unable to speak. Slowly, she drew Vincent into a hug. Then they parted, and without a word, the gunman bent down, scooping his dead friend from the unworthy soil.

Together, they walked away, leaving the hellish memory behind.


Author's Note: That's the death I warned you about back in chapter one, and I can't believe I actually wrote it. Oh, beloved Cloud…. I love both Vincent and Cloud to let you know. I hope this doesn't seem too much of an easy way out. Many of you seemed to be enjoying the possibly forming love triangle, just as I was. It was thanks to my cousin and several of you that Cloud became a greater part of this story. Don't worry. -Hands out Cloud plush dolls- He lives on in our hearts… and other fan fictions.

I really hope the recent turn of events doesn't deter any of you from continuing reading. This is where the 'action' plot comes more into play. I'm used to dealing with emotional aspects, so bear with me as this unfolds. It's not going to be the most thrilling or cleverest of plots to exist, but it's what I'm writing.

Lovely readers, you keep this story alive. Thank you.