Of Farewells and Rainbowed Heartstrings

"And you can try to save the world/ well baby that's fine/ but is it such a hateful crime to start with me?"
– Start With Me, Del Amitri

Vincent sat on his bed, back against the wall, one arm propped on a bent knee. He was waiting for the day to burn; Tifa was banging stuff around downstairs and he knew better than to share a room with her at the moment. Cloud was taking his sweet time, and Vincent hoped Denzel would not be accompanying him home. The house felt like a bomb was about to go off, and Vincent wanted nothing to do with any of it.

He reached over and picked up Marlene's moogle doll without looking at it; he laid it gently in his clawed palm before gazing down on it. Marlene, as always, had managed to get to the heart of him, with her sweet innocence and determined kindness. He heard a metallic bang from the kitchen and cringed. Tifa was also kind and sweet, although that temperamental streak in her was deadly. Vincent thanked whatever being might be watching down over them that he was not Cloud Strife.

Vincent slowly closed his sharpened, armored fingers over the middle of the doll, taking care not to puncture the fabric. It had been so long since he'd used the limb for anything other than combat; he knew he needed to learn to use it again. He dropped the doll into his lap, leaning his head against the hard wall. He stared at the ceiling and tried to reconcile his thoughts. He had a home, friends, was even admired. People who cared about him and people who he cared for in turn. And he was going to get up and leave it behind for a spark of hope, something he'd never thought he'd ever enjoy again? Was he truly prepared to embark on another journey, when he'd just begun to find peace?

There was a knock on the door. He sighed, and called a greeting, fully expecting a thorough harassment treatment from Tifa. He was surprised, though, when Cloud opened the door.

Vincent raised an eyebrow at him as Cloud swung the lone chair backwards, slinging his arms across the back with a sigh. "Escaping her wrath?" Vincent inquired sardonically.

Cloud shook his head. "As soon as I came in, she went out back, without a word. I know what's going on in her mind; I'm just not sure how to deal with it yet." He met Vincent's gaze. "But I didn't come for more advice."

"I wasn't going to offer any," Vincent tried not to smile.

"I was wondering when you were leaving." Cloud didn't lower his gaze.

"What makes you think I'm leaving?"

Cloud scratched the back of his head. "You, walk away from that chance, when it's right at your feet? I don't believe it."

"Of course I intend to restore her," Vincent told him. "I'm headed to Mideel in the morning, as soon as I can say good–bye to Marlene and Denzel." He raised an eyebrow at Cloud again. "As long as things don't fall apart without me."

Cloud granted him a slight smile. "I'm still trying my best. I'm just not sure if it's good enough anymore." He stood, giving Vincent a piercing glance. "No giving up, huh? Guess it's my turn to make things right for her, instead of the other way around." His boots echoed against the walls as he strode to the door, giving Vincent one more look before exiting. "Have you forgiven yourself, or is this you just trying, at least? Either way, it's good to see it." One corner of his mouth curved upward again. "I think I can hold down the fort until you bring her back, Vincent." The door scraped as it shut behind him.

Vincent smiled to himself. So like Strife, to throw it into that light for him. He rose and crossed the room to the window, sliding back one of the curtains. It cast light on his pale skin, brightening the room a notch. People were beginning to recover from the terror Deepground had inflicted, returning to the streets, opening up stores and shops again. A young girl near Marlene's age skipped down the street, a yellow flower in her dark brown hair, and Vincent saw that phantom image of Lucrecia again, except this time, his heart didn't clutch or flutter. Warmth spread through his chest. And then the girl was gone.

So this is the life I helped recover from darkness, he thought to himself, tapping his fingers against the wooden sill. I think it's time I tried to recover from my own. He retrieved the locket from an inner pocket, holding it up to glimmer in the light. One step at a time.

The next morning, dressed in crimson cloak and bandana, Vincent said his goodbyes. Denzel stared at him with jaded eyes as he crouched in front the young boy, not sure what to say. He laid a hand on his shoulder. "Take care of Marlene while I'm gone. I'm counting on you."

His eyes shifted to the girl, clutching her new stuffed chocobo, her eyes glued to the floor. "Marlene." She raised her gaze haltingly. He waited until she was looking him in the eyes. He took that moment to memorize her features, unsure of how long he would be gone, wanting to remember this version of her. Something to drive him back here, no matter what happened. Just to see how she'd grow; how the highlights in her hair would fade, how those luminous eyes would begin to fit her slender face, how her pointed chin would blend into the rest of her features. He knew this was her worst nightmare; how many times had she said goodbye to the people she loved and trusted, never knowing if they would come back? "I'll see you again." She nodded, her gaze dropping back to the floor. This was the closest thing Vincent felt to heartbreak since the day Lucrecia rejected him. "And I'll miss you while I'm gone." He slid her moogle out from his cloak, pressing it into her hands. She lifted her chin again, eyes shining, and shook her head.

"Keep him." She lifted the Chocobo, just a little. "I'll keep Choco to remember you, you get Moogle." Vincent smiled, putting the doll back, and Marlene threw herself at him. Startled, he drew one side of his cloak around her as she pressed herself into his chest. "Just don't forget me, okay?"

Vincent nodded. "I won't ever forget you." He met her eyes again. "I will see you again." She nodded, pulling away.

Vincent came to his feet. Tifa reached forward, giving his arm a light squeeze. "Call us if you need anything."

Cloud nodded to him. "Good luck."

With a final nod and a sweep of his cloak, Vincent strode out onto the streets of Edge, off to the plains of Kalm and the chocobo that waited for him.

The plains were flat and grassy, the winds stirring the elongated fronds gently. Vincent's chocobo sprinted across them with ease, headed toward the ferries that ran to Mideel off the coast. It felt good to be alone, nothing but air and distance and the feel of the chocobo's muscular strides underneath him, that solitary freedom, except this time, it was different. There were strings attached to him now, strings that kept him in Edge, just as there was a cord attaching him to Mideel and the girl that was there. If it had been any other time in his life, those connections would have been constricting; he felt comfort in them now, though, facing something he never had before.

He rode into the small, fledgling town that sprung up around the W.R.O.'s pride and joy transportation system. It was beginning to look like a tourist's nightmare; too many gift shops and cheap materia stands. Fortunately, Vincent knew where to go. He dismounted his chocobo, giving it a pat before boarding the ship with a nod to the W.R.O. guard. Adjusting the black leather sack slung between his shoulder blades, he paid his fare and quickly ascended the stairs to the upper level, where other people were less likely to bother him, or rather, he thought with a ironic smile, he was less likely to bother other people. He settled himself into one of the hard chairs bolted to the floor, and pulled out a novel to read, unperturbed by the long ride.

But halfway through the journey, a young boy burst through the door at the top of the stairs, dragging a moogle doll twin to Marlene's, except for its yellow pom–pom compared to her red one. He was hell–bent on escaping from someone, and he gave Vincent, the lone person in the tiny enclosed level, a desperate, pleading look. Vincent raised an eyebrow at him a half–second before the door slammed open again, three bigger boys hot on the tail of the first. They didn't even give Vincent a glance before quickly cornering the boy, shoving him and pulling on the stuffed plaything. When their intentions became clear, Vincent rose and strode over to the boys, oblivious to his presence. He tapped one foot, hard enough to make the armored boots clang against the floor, and they turned around, fear in their young eyes. Vincent stared down at them grimly, arms crossed, before casually sweeping aside the right flank of his cloak, revealing Cerberus, loaded and holstered. The bullies took one look at it and fled like Bahamut was on their heels.

The younger boy pulled himself from where he was crouched in the corner, wiping blood from his nose and tucking his toy behind him. "Thank you," he muttered, before trying to dart past Vincent, who had lowered himself to the boy's eye level. He shot out a hand and caught the boy. The child clutched his toy reflexively, before realizing he was doing just what the other boys had been teasing him for, and in front of a tough adult, too.

But Vincent knew what the boy was thinking, and lifted the left side of his cloak, revealing a deep pocket with a red pom–pom poking out. "It's all right, kid," he told him, one eyebrow raised again. "I've got one, too."

The boy gave him wide eyes before cracking into a face–splitting grin. He giggled and ran off, back the way he came. Vincent retrieved his book before tucking it back into its pocket, and went out onto the observation deck facing south. He could see Mideel in the distance, a bright green spot against the much darker green of the jungle, wooden platforms and jutting spires floating above the exposed Lifestream. He imagined a red cable, stretching all the way back to Edge before splitting off into three separate threads, and a yellow one reeling in as he got closer and closer to Mideel. Against the cloudless sky and ocean and the smudge of approaching jungle, it wove a vivid pattern.

Vincent wanted to see that rainbow that had become his life reflected through Lucrecia, magnified by her crystal–clarity like a prism. He wanted to learn to see her without the taint of the Shin–Ra mansion, the dark presence of Jenova and Gast and Hojo. Because with her yellow ribbon, red shoes, and blue ruffles, she looked just like the scene before him: vast and untouchable.

And I am nothing if not a conqueror of the impossible. Vincent smiled to himself.