Chapter Dos
Disclaimer: Most of this story is property of Square Enix. The only things that aren't are my original character, Harper, and the plot for this fan fiction. In no way do I claim ownership of Square Enix's work.
Chapter Two:
Going inside after his conversation with Cloud, Vincent rammed into cid, who was walking in his no-time-to-lose! way. No one knew why he was always in such a hurry. Vincent quickly recovered and was halfway down the hall before the old pilot realized what had happened.
"Hey!" he wasn't using his inside voice, by far. "Vincent, when'd you wake up?"
Vincent came to an abrupt halt. "Just a while ago. Cid, I don't have time—"
"Man, I was wonderin' when you'd come to!"
At that, Vincent frowned. "How long was I asleep?"
"Near three days. I was hopin' you'd… hey!"
It was worse than he first thought. When he first woke, he thought that Kadaj, Loz and Yazoo only had a few hours' head start… but now he found out that they really had three days? It felt like death all over again.
After briefly wondering how in Gaia's name he'd pull off finding her again, Vincent turned and dashed to his room to snatch clean clothes before heading to the bathroom, still double-timing everything.
He was in and out of the shower in no time. Almost at a total run, Vincent rushed through the living-room, wet hair sending water flying, and was out the front door before he was even half way finished buckling on his cape. As soon as he was outside, wings erupted from his back, already ready to fly. Fly he did, in a frenzy with no direction.
Those in the house barely knew what had happened.
Vincent didn't really know where to start, so he let himself fly aimlessly while his thoughts worked furiously at narrowing down places Kadaj could be going. "We have come to dispose of our sister" didn't give him much to work with. Somehow, he ended up in Nibelheim that night. It had been years since Vincent had been in the mansion called by the townspeople "Shinra Estate," and the degree of disrepair it was in shocked him. Yes at the same time, it came as no surprise. Nibel-folk, while grateful for the benefits of drinking the planet dry, never enjoyed having the Shinra around, thus—why bother with the up-keep of the mansion? Still, its dilapidated state shocked Vincent, no matter how much sense it made.
Thirty years of nightmarish dreams claimed again his twenty-nine year-old mind. Vincent hardly feared anything, but the sudden onslaught from the past drove him to forget why he was there. But above everything rose the shame, as strong as ever; but it was shoved to one of the many dark corners of Valentine's mind. Present was more important than the past.
The past was dead and every one from it—usually. He laughed to himself as he tried one of the remaining steps on the winding staircase. It snapped.
Searching the mansion was easy. Everything was where it had been thirty years ago, if in terrible condition. Downstairs, in the west wing, was the piano…out of tune. In the basement, everything was the same. Nothing had been touched by human hands since he had left with Cloud and the others a year and a half ago.
He entered the side room on his way back upstairs. It was still littered with skulls and coffins; his was still in the centre of the room. Vincent wanted so much to simply crawl back in and sleep forever. Why? He knew not. But, greater than that simple want was the inexplicable need to move on…
…To where?
Finally, the futility of his search hit him. Last time, he had been left a lead; now Vincent had nothing to go off of, start from. His clue before had been Costa del Sol, and from there every other lead had been luck, or the Planet's intervention. It had seemed natural enough.
Standing there in the basement of the Shinra Mansion, starring at his coffin—yet not seeing it—Vincent Valentine counted himself a fool. But his resolve was undeterred. A fool he may be, but no one would ever be able to say he gave up—not in this; not in anything.
Even after three days of sleep, Vincent's body was tired and needed still more sleep before he could return to his normal mode of insomnia. His mind was racing: he didn't need sleep. The mansion had been searched. Harper wasn't there. He could look somewhere else.
It took him about two minutes to leave Nibelheim.
On the dawn of the next day, Chaos set down on the cliff edge above the Forgotten Capitol at Vincent's direction. This is where they had been, perhaps they were there now. If they were, he was in no condition to pick a fight. The flight to the northern continent had given Vincent's mind time to slow down, and catch up in tiredness to his body. He wasn't going into the Capitol until he had at least some sleep, and Bone Village was cheap.
It was the same crew of people stationed there as the last time Vincent was there. He had been with Cloud, looking for the key to Midgar. They had found it, had gone back; he found Hojo…and put an end to him. Not long after that battle, Vincent began wondering how long the psychotic scientist would stay dead. All of Vincent's other enemies seemed to be rearing their heads after being dead for years. It seemed no one stayed dead in this world, or any other.
He rented a room and slept deeply for four hours. He woke fully rested and made his way down to the Forgotten Capitol through the Sleeping Forest hoping he didn't actually have to play the Lunar Harp to not get lot in the maze the forest could generate. Needless to say, he hadn't been paying much attention when he had gone through the Forest the first time.
Just like the mansion in Nibelheim, the Forgotten Capitol was undisturbed but for the wears of time. The knowledge of the Ancients, or Cetra, was still contained in the many dwellings on the road to oblivion, but was finally starting to fade. Who knew what that meant for those who had left their knowledge behind. Had they been there all those long years?
Inside the under-ground part of the city was much the same, but for the few signs of life left by Kadaj, Loz and Yazoo. This was still their base, that was for sure. Another thing that was sure was that while this might still be the bas of operations for the three men, they were not there at the moment.
It only took a moment of thought for Vincent to decide whether or not he should stay and wait. The answer was "no." If they weren't there after three days (somehow he figured they could travel much faster than they did three months ago), they weren't coming back…with Harper, at least.
A thorough sweep of the city revealed the expected: living quarter which revealed little or nothing about its occupant, research—mostly about Sephiroth and Jenova, whose whereabouts were presently unknown; and maps. Lots of maps detailing what seemed trivial things: electrical maps of nearly every city great or small; ventilation maps, oceanic maps—even a complete map of the northern crater.
Other than that, the material included histories of cities, the world, obituaries, news articles dating ten years back to present. Scientific research on Shinra's experiments, Junon's submarine deployment, artillery manufacture, and list of employed, deceased, and retired Soldiers, Turks, instructors and even janitors…everything from what seemed important, to what seemed stupid (such as cleaning schedules for bathrooms) was there.
Copies of the many maps held penciled-in names of battles, or locations of different items (such as the sunken submarine, Gelika), and illegible handwriting identical to that found in a journal in one of the lived-in rooms.
Vincent found all these things, but none of it helped him, only vexed him more. Particularly their interest in the ocean floor and Gelika…and the arrow that pointed the empty space of the cargo hold of the sub. The only thing he could think of while he looked at that arrow was that the cargo hold—somewhat ironically—held the worst of the menagerie of creatures in the sub. Other than that, there was only the fact that material had once been found there…but nothing made sense. Materia wouldn't grow except in the natural Mako fountains, or when manufactured by Shinra; so rendering materia hunting out of the picture. There was nothing else, so Vincent put that mystery aside and continued rummaging through the papers littering the centre pedestal.
Nothing was found there to help him in his search for Harper.