DISCLAIMER; Blahblahblah I don't own Vincent, Tifa, or any other character associated with Final Fantasy VII. They all belong to the wonderful Square(Enix) and I lay no claim to said characters. I'm only borrowing them for this ficlet. Hee.
In your
eyes I see a darkness that torments you,
And in
your head where it dwells.
I'd
give you my hand, if you'd reach out and grab it.
Let's
walk away from this hell.
--The-Juliana
Theory; Into the Dark
CHAPTER 1; Wanderings
He looked neither out of place nor welcomed as he walked through the slums of Neo-Midgar, head hung low and gaze fixated on the ground beneath his feet. How he knew where he was going was a mystery to the curious people he passed and the scurrying children that squealed before they nearly tumbled into him though, as if he some sort of shield about him, they easily dodged.
And stared after the man's crimson coloured back, their eyes left wide with wonderment and sheer curiosity as he seemed to fade into the shadows of the slums.
--The new Seventh Heaven was surprisingly slow for such a usually busy day, but it left the hostess with a lighter heart. The sooner her customers left the quicker she would be able to go and check on the orphans just a building away; she had thought of letting them live in the bar, but there had been such little living space for all of them that she had gotten the building next door and used that as their home.
She stayed there with them, as well.
With a small tilt of her head, Tifa glanced towards the door as the small 'jingle' of the bell rang through the quiet bar. No one was there, unless one of the men had just left but…she scanned her eyes over the occupants of her little bar, counting them one by one…they were all accounted for.
But as she went to take a glance at the bar, and check on the patrons sitting at the counter, she felt her body stiffen and her heart skip a beat. Her wine-red gaze fell to the rather still frame of an odd looking man; his head hung low and face hidden behind long ebony locks. There was something rather familiar about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was almost like she should know him from somewhere, as if she knew him and had the name on the tip of her tongue.
Yet she didn't let that bother her as she moved to stand before him and dawned the best smile she could, hands moving to reside on the counter between the two of them. "Welcome to Seventh Heaven, what is it I can get you?"
"Hm." It was a soft breath of thought.
"…sir?"
If he had raised his head she would have seen the small smirk of amusement that graced his lips, though it disappeared as soon as it had appeared. It was quite something to hear an annoyed tone grace her usually calm voice.
"Perhaps…" He raised his gaze briefly, eyes falling to the calm face of the young woman waiting for his order. She hadn't changed much, appearance wise. She was still the petite person he had met so long ago, though her long chocolate brown locks seemed to have been cut short as so they fell inches above her waist.
A slight huff of air slipped past her parted lips and she looked about ready to just give up and walk away. She had no time for these hard-type customers, as there were others to attend to. "Listen," she started, kneeling a little and hoped to be eye level with this guy, "you're either going to order something or—" But her words were cut off as she found her gaze locked with that of cold crimson eyes set on a pale face.
"V-Vince…Vincent?"
He inwardly let the amusement sink in from her almost outcry of shock, though she did a good job of keeping her voice as low as she had. That whispered cry that he had heard only a few times before. He had almost begun to miss is, after leaving her and the other's company.
Almost…
And a smile graced her lips as she straightened herself up, her eyes shining with a childlike glee. "Oh, geez, Vincent. It's been so long…" The smile grew. "It's really good to see you. I've missed you!"
"Missed me?" he repeated, looking up at her curiously before returning his gaze to the polished wood surface. He had not expected that response from her…but, Tifa was full of surprises, though not as much as that odd little ninja that had accompanied them. He had always wondered where she gathered all that energy from and wondered if it was possible to just…drain it.
"You're the only who I haven't seen since you up and disappeared after meteor."
She got no reply and it was as if he was waiting for her to ask a question. An inevitable question that he knew would slip past her lips.
"How have you been?"
It was easy to read her… Glancing up at her once again he shrugged his shoulders and took a swift glance around the slowly emptying bar; aside from him there were only two others there, one at the bar and the other at a table. He then looked back at her, crimson eyes studying her smiling face. "I have been… well."
As well as Vincent Valentine could be, she guessed and chuckled.
"Well, it's good to see you again." He took note that she had turned her back to him and was busy cleaning something. A glass, probably. "Maybe… You could stay awhile, after I close up, and we could catch up?"
"…perhaps."
Tifa chuckled, peeking over her shoulder at the man of little words and smiled again. That was the closest thing to a 'yes' that she would be getting out of him.
Slipping to the stool just one away from his, Tifa rested her arms against the clean surface of the counter and studied that objects that lay on the wall behind it. Her wine-red gaze slipped along the wall and her head turned, her eyes falling onto his still frame; she noticed that he was still wearing the crimson coloured cloak and the clothing beneath it. The only thing he was missing was the bandana, which surprised her a bit but it gave his hair more freedom to move about and fall into his face.
"So," she said, breaking the silence that had blanketed over the bar, "if you don't mind me asking…" A pause in her words as she looked back to what lay behind the bar. "What have you been up to since you left?"
No response but the sound of his shifting body on the stool, his clawed hand coming to reside on the countertop as carefully as possible; he didn't want to scratch the surface.
"Mmm, gonna play the quiet game with me again."
'The quiet game' was a definition she gave to the questions, and silence she got for answers, or just a plain conversation whenever she tried to talk with him. It seemed to actually amuse her instead of upset her, though he knew that, back then, she had been almost tempted to just give up and go talk to a brick wall instead.
"Perhaps," he said, speaking up a few minutes after her words had settled in the bar. "Or perhaps I will not."
"I guess it all depends on what I ask you, doesn't it?"
A swift nod of the head was the response she received and it made her grin a bit. Well, then, she would just ask all the question she could and hope that at least half of them would be answered.
"Are you going to answer my first question or just leave it hanging it the air, Vincent?" Her grin grew a little. "I'm just trying to make friendly conversation with a friend."
Vincent glanced over at her, through the corner of his eyes and pondered for a moment. It wouldn't hurt to give her an answer, a rather blunt answer. "I have been wandering, is all."
"Mmm," she breathed, glancing over at the bar door and then back at him. "What brings you to—"
"…what about yourself, Tifa." It was more a demand than a question and it surprised the young woman. She hadn't thought of him to be the type to ask how others have been or what they have been up too but—she grinned to herself—he was probably asking so it would stall her from asking her own questions.
He was smart, she would give him that, but one little question would not stop her from asking him all that she had.
"I've been living here, in Neo-Midgar, helping Reeve with the restoration of it." She shrugged lightly. "I've been running the new Seventh Heaven for a few months, probably around three or so. You've seen the building next door, right?" He nodded to her question, not moving nor looking up. "Well that's where I live, as well as the orphans I take care of. Marlene is there, too."
Marlene…? Oh, right, the daughter of that big man—what was his name again?—Barret.
"Orphans?"
"Mmhmm." She breathed out, leaning back in the stool and cracked her neck. "Meteor left a lot of orphans in Midgar and, well, I've been taking care of the ones that have either stumbled in here or that I've run across. I mean… I can't just leave them out there, can I?" She raised her gaze and peered at him, exploring him for an answer but he gave none. She frowned a bit and glanced over to the door. "It wouldn't be right of me to leave them alone, out in the slums. I… I want them to grow up without having to worry about becoming part of any of those horrible things that reside here."
A shake of the head dismissed that thought and she looked back over at him, a grin now on her lips. "But what brings you here? I'm sure you didn't come all the way out here to see me."
Vincent caught the joking tone to that and he inwardly chuckled at it. What an interesting sense of humor this woman had. "As I have said," he begun, shifting and standing, "I am wandering."
"So, you're only passing through…?"
"Yes."
A frown graced her face and she 'hmph'ed beneath her breath at him as she crossed her arms beneath her chest. He took no notice of his, except for the 'hmph' and it probably meant that she was upset with that answer. Well, she would just have to deal with it; he didn't want to stay in Midgar for long, only until he figured out where he would go to next.
Perhaps back to Nibelheim and to the mansion. It was the only other place he could think of and, in a twisted way, it was his home. Perhaps somewhere else. He did not know, nor was now the correct time for such decisions.
"I am sorry." His voice was soft and almost lost as he moved to the door, his human hand reaching out to grasp the knob and open it. But in one fluid motion there was a hand pressed against the crack between both doors and a very serious woman was standing in front of him; her wine colored gaze bore into his face with a strong intensity, but he did not meet it with his own blank stare he, instead, let his eyes fall to the space just between the two of them.
Her shoes were different…
"Did you hear me?"
At those words he did look at her, meeting that strong gaze and fighter intent of persuasion. He blinked a bit, hiding the confusion that bubbled up. If she had been saying something he hadn't heard it.
"Oooh," she muttered, a frown appearing. "You weren't listening!"
"Sorry."
"Yeah, yeah." With her freehand she waved dismissively to him. Really, she didn't care to repeat her words; she had always had to repeat every now and then to Yuffie, who was usually too busy thinking over which materia piece to steal and paid the martial artist no heed when they were in conversation. "I said that you should stay awhile. There's room over in the house next door and I'm sure the childroom would like it if there was an older male around and, well, it would be ni…"
But she was cut off as he raised a brow and emitted a slightly curious look. "Why is Cloud not there?" He had always thought that the blond leader of the group would have stayed with the young brunette after everything was over because it was more than obvious that there was something between the two, even if it was yet to be spoken of.
"H..he…" She paused, looking stunned and hurt at the same time. "He isn't here. He left a few months ago to, I don't know, do something. Look for something, I think. Maybe Aerith." She shook her head, swallowing back the fear and sadness, her gaze falling from him as she slipped away, moving to a small picture of Junon that was hanging on the wall. She made it look as if it was uneven and moved to fix it, her breath hitched for more than a minute.
"It… doesn't matter though," she said, not looking at him. "I was just hoping for your company is all. We could catch up with what's been going on or, well, try to have a nice conversation."
If by 'nice conversation' she meant his small nods or short lived responses to her questions. And he gave off a small shrug of his shoulders, his crimson gaze on the knob of the door. Maybe he could amuse her for the time being.
After all… It couldn't hurt, right?
…
AN: To be brutally honest? I had no idea that this had the same name as another fic on her so, uh, I changed the name a tad. Thank you, The Highwaywoman, for telling me. I really didn't mean for it to have the same name as another. Eh heh. And thank you for the review, too. :D
And this somehow turned out to be a 5 page chapter. Read and review, lovlies!
