By one in the morning, the man had successfully navigated through Sectors 7 and 6, and found the exit to Midgar in Sector 5. As I said, even in the slums a biting wind could tunnel its way in, and I was freezing, my body long past numb. He seemed immune to the cold and my own discomfort, but still I managed to keep up with his long stride. I think moving was what kept me awake.

Of course, that didn't nullify the fact that I was exhausted. My eyes were drooping, and I wasn't sure if my legs were even there, much less walking. But they were. As he inserted a keycard into the slot that would open the door, I watched him in a sort of drunken fascination; my mind nearly shot. He was so tall, dark, and… handsome. That obsolete cliché twisted my frozen lips into a sort of half smile, and a strange bark of laughter erupted from them.

The assassin looked at me, almost as though he thought I was crazy. So what if I was. Who wouldn't be after what had happened?

"Move." He ordered once the doors had opened, giving me a small nudge. If I had thought the sheltered slums were cold, it was nothing compared to the open plains. A thick blanket of snow and ice lay as far as the eye could see in the dark of night, and the chill factor from the wind brought the temperature below zero. The numb in my limbs transformed into a deep ache within me. I could feel the bite of the ice carried in the air stream.

The exit closed behind us, and my captor continued walking in the direction of Kalm. I could barely stand the thought of walking all that way almost naked as I was. My eyelids were heavy with fatigue, and my body was swollen. I forced one step. Then another.

Sleep. What a magnificent gift. My mind was wandering to strange things. Like Cloud. How odd was that? His outline was almost visible to me: his blond hair and azure eyes. Just as always. His blissful touch, caressing my skin… cupping my face…

"Don't fall asleep." Who was that? That deep voice? That wasn't Cloud. But… perhaps…

"Cloud," I whispered through heavy lips. There he was, moving towards me. I tried to step forward, only to find my feet captured. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. "Don't…" I felt a drop on my face, different from all the other pain. Who was crying?

"Stay awake." There was that tone again. What was so special about staying awake? I could do whatever I pleased. If I wanted to… to…

"Cloud!" I cried out, louder this time. His image was fading. He was walking away. I reached out to him, and my hand came into contact with something…soft. And warm. I cupped it, savoring its feel. Cloud.

I think it was I who was crying. And I began sobbing.

"I thought you were gone." I murmured through tears. And there was that voice again.

"No." No. Not gone. With ever last drop of willpower, and every single ounce of strength I had, I pushed myself free and forward into Cloud's arms.

Staring up into his strange blood-colored eyes, it never crossed my mind that Cloud's eyes were crystal blue.

Smiling, I whispered, "I'm going to sleep now."

And I did.

---

My fingers were outlining the box again for the trillionth time. Except the shapes were different. They had changed. Had I been in my right mind, I most likely would have jumped up from my slumber in fear that my mother's gift had been altered, but I didn't. I continued tracing.

I could hear many sounds, but my dozing intellect couldn't place them. Snapping. Moaning. Thumping. Whispering. My eyes stayed closed. Just a little longer. Just a bit more sleep…

Then something on the box pricked my finger. It hurt like hell, and I knew it had pierced the skin. Still, I was in no hurry to wake. Flexing the fingers of my other hand, my lids fluttered as I took in my surroundings. Snapping fire. Moaning wind. My thumping heart. Whispering…? The licking pain in my hand reminded me of why I had awoken.

With hooded eyes, I twisted my head to the right and saw that man lying not too close to me, but not so far away. It wasn't my box that I was feeling, it was his golden claw and I had pricked my finger on one of his sharp digits.

I didn't remember how we had gotten here. I could barely recall exiting Midgar. But I was warm.

And the whispering? It was his breath. His inhale and exhale, repetitive yet different each time. This man certainly was an odd one. If he was supposed to kill me, then why did he keep me alive? Certainly, there was no need for a hostage or any sort of leverage in his line of work. Murder and collect your dues. Leave no witnesses. But here I was.

Yes, definitely odd.

I rose up on my elbows, vaguely away of the tingling itch in my swollen skin. The place of our dwelling was a rather large cavity in the side of some rock, with a thin opening that served as an entrance. The gunman had built a fire out of who-knows-what, but it was still going. I wondered what time it was or even what day it could possibly be.

I sat even straighter and a black cloak slid off me. It was his. Glancing over at him again, I noticed he had taken off his shirt as well, and it was on me. What kind of assassin was he?

The gun. The revolver. Here he was, sleeping, leaving his hostage a perfect opportunity to turn the tides against him. I wasn't much of a tide turner, but I knew what it felt like to be the victim. Silently, I crept over to him on my hands and knees and hovered over his still form, watching for any signs of movement. He was still.

Perusing his body, I saw the hilt of the weapon glinting in its holster on his belt. I did my best to avoid his naked torso, which was riddled with muscles like smooth stones, and I reached out with my fingers to lightly take hold of the firearm. The light of the fire caught two letter scratched into the metal. VV. Initials? No matter. I moved meticulously slow.

However he was lightning fast.

A quick, sharp pain in my back let me realize how swift he really was; I was under him, my back to the ground with his revolver once again pressed into my temple. A horribly ironic sense of Déjà vu washed over me. It was that maniac girl again, taking over my body and doing ridiculous things like trying to fool a natural-born killer, and then running away when the going gets tough, leaving the real Tifa to deal with it.

"You certainly are a strange one." He said. I guess he wasn't going to kill me. More irony. I had just been thinking the same thing about him moments before.

I smiled innocently up at him. He shook his head, his black hair swaying. I hadn't noticed how dark it was before. I also couldn't help but realize what a situation we were in. Me, clad in his shirt, underneath him; he, clad in no shirt, perched above me. And, yes, he was muscular. In fact, my stomach was fluttering for some damn reason.

"I have a question." He said, his gun still at my head. I didn't say anything. "Who's Cloud?"

Well, whatever I was expecting, that certainly wasn't it. That cold sense of dread chilled my blood. How did he know?

Ignoring the gun, ignoring his face, ignoring the fact that he was in control of the circumstances, I arose, and crawled out from under him. I could feel his surprise radiating in the room. And then his anger.

His cold claw grabbed me from behind, twisting me around to face him. I was irritated as well. What right had he to pry into my life? None. So, Maniac Girl assumed control, and I moved to hit him. He released his claw for a moment to catch my wrist. Was I a weak thing or what? I thought he would hit me with his other hand, he undoubtedly moved to do so, but stopped.

"What is your name?" It was a question, but also a command to tell him. I quailed, and my ire extinguished under the force of his own.

"T-Tifa." He seemed satisfied. Backing away, he released me and I fell backwards onto my ass. I gathered up what little courage I had to inquire, "And yours?"

He paused, examining my face as though deciding whether to tell me or not. I drove on.

"I know it starts with a V. You might as well tell me, I'll figure it out anyways." I turned my nose up indignantly, feeling a lot like an old friend of mine named Yuffie. The silence went on until I was sure he wasn't going to answer. Then…

"Vincent." Although I would have never been able to guess that particular name, it suited him. He just looked like a Vincent. "Now, who is Cloud?"

He couldn't drop it.

"He was just an old love." I snapped, turning away and raking a hand through my nightmare hair. "How do you know about him anyway?"

"It's kind of hard not to when you were screaming his name into my face." I looked at him sharply. He was lying; he had to be. But… how else could he know? What else had I said? "Just an old love?"

"It doesn't matter." I went back to my hair, facing the wall. He was mocking me, almost as though he thought love were silly. The very idea crushed my heart. I could care less what this man considered love to be, but if I ever had such feelings…

I removed Vincent's shirt and held it out to him. This man had way too many deaths over his head for me to want to get involved with anything that had his essence upon it. That and his bare torso was driving me insane. He didn't reach to take it.

"Keep it. We're staying here for a few more days." A few more days?

"How long was I asleep?" The very suggestion of being out and defenseless with this man was unsettling.

"All yesterday and today. Dawn won't be for another couple of hours, so you might as well go back to sleep." He wasn't meaning anything, but I was still suspicious.

"No." I retorted. "I'm not voluntarily going to just doze off while you- you-!" He raised one eyebrow, not smiling.

"I really could care less about you." His words came out a little louder than I think he intended. I must say, they stung a bit like his slaps.

"How would I know?" I shot back, but he didn't reply. As much as I wanted him to, I knew he wouldn't. I threw his shirt at him, but it dropped between us.

While I attempted to unknot my long russet tresses, I surveyed him out of the corner of my eye. He tended to the fire via a fire materia, which was nothing out of the ordinary, but still… I wondered if he would come after me if I tried to escape.

Of course he would. My inner voice said, he could kill you because of what you know.

I got up and went to sit across from him. He didn't even look at me.

"You got to ask me something personal, and now it's my turn," I said squarely. His frosty gaze met mine.

"This isn't a negotiation." He said. "And you are not in any position to ask anything."

"What happened to your arm?" I disregarded his last comment. He stiffened.

"The result of bad choices." He answered.

"That's too vague." I countered, feeling more like Yuffie every passing second.

"What? And you're answer wasn't?" He looked back at the fire.

"What does it matter?" I said under my breath, watching the flame tongues lick up. "He lied." If Vincent heard me, he didn't respond.

---

The night terrors were relentless, and same with the snowstorm. I knew Vincent was aggravated because I couldn't travel well in the snow, and every day was setting him further and further behind, but I didn't care. He didn't seem about to kill me.

But I couldn't sleep.

Soon, I was frightened at the very prospect of closing my eyes from being haunted by the nightmares. Every horrific thing imaginable waited for me in the blackness of sleep. I never said anything to Vincent, more to protect my reputation than anything, but I had a growing feeling that he knew.

I grew angry at everything, almost on the verge of tears. I could do nothing right; everything Vincent said or didn't say was enough to drive me over the edge. And I couldn't take it anymore.

It was dark, and the raging blizzard outside seemed at its climax, while I fiddled with a fire materia inside our cave. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stay focused, and I couldn't get the embers to relight as Vincent had so successfully done during our entire stay here. After the twentieth effort, he rose and took the red orb from my hands. He seemed calm, but I could tell he was aggravated. That's what too much time with one person does to you, as I was equally annoyed with him.

"Fine!" I snarled. "Since you're so much better at it, you don't need me!" I was worn out, I was hungry, I was thirsty for something other than snow water (preferably a bottle hot sake), and I was furious. Without another word, I strode to the entrance and out into the snow. Remember that breakdown I mentioned? Well, here it was.

Of course, the moment I got out there I regretted it, but my pride was not about to let me turn back. Just keep walking, I told myself, and weeping ensued with a sense of self-loathing. I was no good, I should just die. No one cared, no one at all.

"Tifa!" Vincent was yelling at me. He was mad now, maybe he would kill me. I didn't turn back, but continued trudging along blindly. "Tifa!" He sounded closer, and turning around, I saw that he was running towards me. On second thought, I preferred freezing to death over his rage. And I bolted too.

He's always been faster, though, so he caught up and grabbed my arm in no time. I tried to jerk away. He's always been stronger too. The floodgates within me broke loose, and all my pent up feelings came out in a rush. The stress at the bar. The trauma of the kidnapping episode. The resurface of Cloud's memory. I collapsed at his feet, his hand still hold my arm up.

"Just let me die, Vincent!" I wailed, sobbing hysterically. I hadn't acted like that in years, but I didn't care. "Please, I want to die!"

"Why?" A simple question that held no emotion.

"I don't deserve to live! I-I killed him." I covered my face, unaware of the cold and the depth of the snow. "I killed Cloud. He's dead. Dead."

Emotions can sometimes have more effect on a person than alcohol. My mother once told me that, and I never quite understood what she meant, until now. I was almost delirious with my own feelings of hatred and sorrow, spewing words that had no meaning at this assassin. I cried even harder. I truly wanted to pass away from this earth, and Vincent wasn't letting me. He was being one selfish son of a bitch.

With a rush of adrenaline, I pulled his gun from its resting place and put it next to my temple as he had done so many times when intimidating me. Only this time it was a threat to him. Closing my eyes, I gritted my teeth with determination. This was the only way.

"Stop this!" Vincent shouted, striking me hard across the face. It hurt more than a sting. I dropped the gun in surprise, and he did nothing to catch it. Instead, he whisked me up and carried me back to the opening in the rock, paying no attention to my pleading and weeping. I did not fight; I was too shattered to move. He was the one in control.

"Please." I whispered brokenly into his chest. "Please. Vincent." He stared ahead. I quit sobbing, but let the tears run silently down my face as I watched him. Why was I still alive?

His face blurred. I was going to lose him to the night terrors after all.

---

His kiss was sweet and longing.

"Good morning, Tifa." I smiled in my sleep, before opening my eyes to his face. He was grinning down upon me like a young child. How I loved that smile.

"You sleep late." He said, pulling back to allow me room to get up. The thin sheet slid down my bare body as I did so.

"I was dreaming." I replied, searching the floor for my nightshirt.

"About what?" He asked, watching me dress.

"About you, Cloud. I always dream about you." He smiled and laid a light kiss on my lips.

"I hope so." He joked. I laughed. "You won't forget me, will you?"

"Of course not, silly." I pulled my pants past my hips. "Am I too fat?"

"No!" Cloud caught me in his arms. "See? You fit perfectly." He kissed my neck.

"I should go home before your mother gets back." I said, pushing out of his embrace. He twisted his face.

"She's coming back today isn't she?" I nodded. "We need to get a secret place, where we can be with each other without having to worry about parents."

"Ha. I wish such a place existed." I said. "Oh, yeah. Its called adulthood."

"No, seriously." Cloud thought for a second. "The Shinra Mansion could work."

"Forget it, Cloud." I kissed his nose. "You'll just have to survive."

"I don't think I can." He grinned.

I smiled in return.

The sun turned dark, and the room distorted.

It was raining, pouting buckets of water from the sky. Someone up there was in desperate pain, weeping great soggy tears.

Where was he?

"Cloud?" I shouted, thoroughly soaked and cold. Not just physical, but a spiritual frostiness. "Cloud!"

Here.

I followed my sense love, out of the town and into the mountain pass. I was scared of the night and the rain. Where was he? I wasn't crying, but I think my heart was. I imagine a woman's pain for a lost love is one of the greatest forces ever.

His silhouette loomed from the shadows; I saw his blond hair, his indigo eyes. Relief tingled slowly through my limbs, and I walked towards him. Cloud. He watched me for a moment, the life from him gone. He gave me a small smile, turning away from me.

And the rain took him.

---

I slept for another two days straight, and by the time I awoke, the storm had passed. Vincent didn't say anything about our prior experience, but it was heavy upon both our minds. He only spoke once in the first hour of my waking, and that was to tell me we would leave tomorrow. After my dream memory of Cloud I realized just how different the two men were. Vincent was nothing like Cloud had been. And Cloud had been nothing like Vincent was.

Either way, I would not miss this cave. I needed to bathe terribly, and couldn't wait to get to Kalm where showers could be found. Just thinking about it made me want to wash off even more. The snow seemed awfully inviting, although freezing as well. Vincent was working with the fire again.

"I'm going outside." He looked up sharply, almost mistrustfully. "I'm not going to go crazy; I just want to… clean up."

"You're not going alone." He said, and my mouth dropped open.

"Yes, I am." I replied. "I don't need you to supervise me while I'm washing, thank you."

"There's no water." He answered, working with the fire once again.

"I'll use snow. Do you mind if I use your cloak?" I picked it up without waiting for a response and strode to the entrance with him right behind me. Turning on my heel, I faced him equally. "Listen. I'm not going to go find your gun and commit suicide, I just want to clean up, and that requires a little clothing removal, which you, assassin or not, do not need to see. Do you understand?"

"Now you listen." He retorted, "As I have previously mentioned, I have no interest in you or your body. The only thing I care about is that you don't try another escape attempt, because that just makes my job a lot harder than it needs to be. So I am coming out with you, not to ogle your body, but to keep you from doing what you are renowned for doing. Do you understand me?"

"If I'm making your job so hard, then why don't you kill me?" I laid one hand lightly on my hip and smirked. His face remained stoic, and he made no effort to respond.

I turned on my heel and allowed him to follow me outside without another word.

The man was impossible.

---

That evening I opened up my bag again and pulled out the small box, dimly conscious of Vincent watching me. I didn't want to speak to him at the moment. I knew allowing him to "keep me from what I'm renown for doing" was a mistake. But still, it was too late for regrets.

I cupped the box in my lap, and traced the latch. Sometimes the curiosity became overwhelming. Sometimes I wished that I had just opened the damn thing when Cloud and I were together. But I knew I would regret it. Waiting was so much more satisfying. And of course, there was my fear that the box was a trap. Would my own mother do that to me? I had no answer. There wasn't one.

"Eat." Vincent said, handing me a loaf of bread and an energy bar. My rations. I noticed he ate nothing himself. He never ate anything. And he didn't meet my eyes either.

At least he had a little decency.

The silence lasted, and tension filled its place so thickly, the air seemed heavy with it. I wanted to say something, but it wasn't my place—my mouth did open once or twice, but words failed. He was the one who should be apologizing. My stomach felt as though it might reject any food I would put into it, so I put my food to the side, and lay down with my back to my captor. The box remained before me, so I watched it without really seeing it.

"Don't force me to make you eat." Vincent said.

"I'm not hungry." I said back. I didn't feel like sleeping either in case those nightmares decided to return, even though I hadn't had one since that night, and food with warmth often did that to me.

"Yes, you are." He contradicted, and I curled up into a ball. How would he know? He had no emotions. I heard him move behind me, and he dropped my food before my face. I closed my eyes, trying block out everything. Such an ancient trick that one was, I remember playing childish games with it. Seeing how long it took to be completely unaware.

Like when Mom and Dad are fighting. All that insult hurling and physical abuse. I was particularly good at drifting away to a world where that little blond haired boy awaited me. He was always smiling kindly at me. My friends always teased that smile, saying there were no brains to that boy, and I laughed right along with them. Peer pressure is a dangerous thing. They always scoffed at the girl who would one day love him. Funny how that girl was me.

I loved him.

And here I was, once again, unable to leave the cave. My mind was trapped with this man. I was too tense to think of anything else, he was standing right behind me, and I would like to see someone else try it, if they believe it to be easy. Also, Cloud had long since faded from my fantasy world. I couldn't see his smiling face. Only that lesser smirk he had given me that last time I saw him.

I preferred Vincent to that.

"You're crying." The gun wielder stated. My lids opened quickly and I raised a trembling hand to my face. I guess I had managed to lose myself, and now silver tears wetted my cheeks. I was embarrassed that he would see me cry again. What an opinion he must have of me, capturing a crybaby for a hostage. I had never let so many tears fall before, this cave or this man or both were wearing on my nerves. Stress. That's all it was.

"I'm not." I said, rising up and discreetly wiping my face. I knew he saw through my lie, but made no comment. I favored that.

"Eat." He said and left. I glared at his back and stuffed my victuals into my bag along with my box. Best to save them for later, when I really needed them. Feeling compelled to say something to Vincent, anything at all; I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"There's only one reason I'm staying with you." I spoke loudly and plainly. He ceased his walking with his back to me, but didn't turn.

"Because you can't get away?" He scoffed. His sarcasm was thick, yet it wasn't enough to evoke my anger. By now, I had come to learn that the only way to best a clear head and a sharp wit was with a clearer head and sharper wit. Whether that was profoundness was in some philosophy manuscript or not, it should have been.

"I will stop you, Vincent." I said through gritted teeth. "You will not kill Barret."

I have excelled in divulging my mind in past times, and continued to do so, but only to make a fool of myself in front of this man. The cave rang with his wintry laughter that didn't seem human. I considered calling him 'Monster' again, but the memory of his threat in the bar was still fresh in my mind. He truly meant what he said, and only a fool would make the same folly twice. I was no fool.

Without my even realizing it, he was suddenly in my face, a small smirk playing on his lips behind that large collar of his. Staring fiercely back I wondered what he saw. Was I able to be the stonehearted person he was with no emotion but determination? He was squaring me up, and I was thankful my posture was already as straight as it could possible be. Still, being a whole head short than he, I had to lean back to watch his eyes.

We stood like statues for two minutes, my mind counting each second and trying to hold my body in its position. Vincent didn't seem to be having quite as rough a time as I. He barely blinked.

"We're leaving early." He said quietly, almost… it was certainly odd. "Go to sleep."

I doubted neither he nor I slept a wink.

---

There was little that I did to this chapter—a spelling error here, a grammatical mistake there—nothing too major although I won't guarantee it's as perfect as perfect could possibly be. It never will be. Hope you enjoy it as much as the first time you read it (unless this is your first time), and leave a comment if you're compelled to do so (consider this your compelling comment); criticism is as appreciated, but flames will be used to make udon noodles: the ultimate motivator.