Penance

©®™ Lt. Commander Richie

((Disclaimer:Hullo! All civil suits, lawsuits and copyright infringement suits are to be routed through to me by means of my mother's Lawyer! But there should be none, since I'm just, to borrow a term, a Writer on Whee.))

Chapter 5

"You sure she ain't yer kid, Valentine?" Cid asked, his arms crossed and cigarette sticking out of his mouth as he leaned against the outside wall of the Seventh Heaven Bar watching Mira run around in circles with her arms out to her sides. Her freshly-cut hair, devoid of frizzy ends and burnt edges on the shorter locks, flew about her face merrily as her red ribbon held it back.

"Positive." The scarlet gunman gave a slight nod from his vantage point sitting on top of a crate, his gauntlet resting on top of his bent left leg and the other leg hanging over the edge of the crate. Mira stopped and waved at the two of them, before running over to a ball game being played by a few other Orphans on the other side of the currently empty street. Vincent had since reclaimed his cloak, his face now well-hidden behind its collar once again. The two watched in silence as Mira asked the oldest girl, one with hair in a ponytail and carrying a stuffed Moogle, if she could play. Apparently the answer was less than satisfactory, and Mira began to cry. Cid started forward to give the girl with the Moogle a piece of his mind, but Vincent held out his claw to stop him.

"You'll only teach them words of a less-than-satisfactory nature." Vincent said, lowering his arm and using it to push himself off the crate he was using as a seat. Across the street, Mira had sat down on the ground and was wiping at her eyes, still lightly sobbing.

"You're just like those guys that tried to take us, right? Your eyes glow. You can't play with us!" The girl with the Moogle said, looking down at the tiny girl at her feet. Mira's sobs grew louder, punctured by a hiccup here or there.

"I'm- I'm not like them!" Mira tried to scream, but her voice came out hoarse from all her crying. The girl with the Moogle began to back away, clutching the stuffed toy to her. Mira started as a hand was put on her tiny shoulder, but she still jumped to her feet and threw her arms around Vincent's neck, sobbing. He smelled comforting to the six-year-old, like eggs and bacon.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his human hand on the back of Mira's head. She nodded, still hiccuping lightly. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No. B-but, she said I can't play 'cause I look like the kidnappers! The ones that took Kyra!" Mira wailed, and hugged tighter. Vincent gently pried the tiny girl off him and stood, looking down at the girl with the Moogle and her friends. One of the boys, one with frizzy brown hair with a blue streak in the front, was holding a ratty, well-beaten-on old Blitzball. Mira clung gently to his right leg now, and with his human hand Vincent swept part of his cloak around her as an almost protective barrier.

"Is this true?" The scarlet gunman asked of the surrounding children, all of whom looked as though they simply wanted to run in different directions. Finally, after a few moments, another girl spoke up. In a simple and worn pink dress with a faded yellow apron over it, she looked like she was taking a break from helping her parents with a store somewhere in the Slums.

"Yes. Her eyes were glowing, so Jessie didn't want her to play. I don't care if she has glowing eyes, or even if she has snakes for hair or something, she's just a little girl. She can't hurt us with just glowing eyes." The girl in pink nodded, giving a respectful bow to Vincent. She had long brown hair, tied back with a large yellow bow.

"Aeriiiiiith!" The girl with the Moogle, Jessie, whined. Vincent started, and across the street, Cid jumped at the girl's name. "Why d'you always have to be so nice to people?"

"Your name is Aerith?" Vincent asked the girl in the dress. She flushed pink, but nodded quickly and hung her head down so her blush wasn't visible.

"Yes sir," She began, bowing respectfully again. "My mom named me after the girl that helped her give birth to me. I live in the Slums, see, and we don't have a very good Hospital..." She trailed off, rising from her bow. Vincent nodded, uncovering the now-calm form of Mira. She had released his leg, and was now running the Fire Materia hanging from his gun through her hands.

"Forget this! If that SOLDIER wannabe wants to play, then let's let her! Teams are uneven anyway." The boy with the Blitzball yelled, holding the beaten up old ball in the air above his head. Mira grinned, and stuck her tongue out at Jessie. The Orphans all began splitting back into teams, and the frizzy-haired boy with the blue streak came up and thrust the ball at Vincent.

"Will you be our Referee? If you're not it, two people have to sit out so one can be Ref and still have fair teams." The boy asked, and Vincent wordlessly took the proffered ball. The boy assumed a position in front of Jesse, who had tied her Moogle's arms to her hoodie's ties, and both of the apparent team Captains held up one hand.

"Play." Vincent stated, and threw the beat up ball into the midst of the warring teams. He backed up silently to the other side of the street, still watching the game as he had so wordlessly promised. With a small jump the gunslinger had once again situated himself onto the crate much as he had several minutes before, watching the game progress.
"Where's Vincent?" Nanaki asked, from his seat on the floor. The large red lion had curled up next to the radiator, and was quite content as to not move. The people around him, however, were not as lethargic.

"'S outside." Cid said, sitting himself down without a word more. Even his Cigarette was gone, a new feature for the normally chain-smoking pilot.

"What's the matter?" The lion asked, stretching his forelegs out and flexing his claws experimentally. Cid sighed and put both elbows on the table, propping his head up with his hands.

"That kid." The pilot answered vaguely, all of his body slumping forward. Nanaki padded over and set his paws on the table, the only one that housed anyone in the deserted Seventh Heaven, peering at the somewhat-depressed Cid.

"Which kid, Mira? What's wrong with her? Vincent is with her, right?" Nanaki asked, concerned. Cid shook his head into the table, where it now sat, making various noises as he did so.

"Not her, yeh dumbass cat. Aerith. Dunno why it bothers me s'much, though. Jus' an eight-year-old inna pink dress tha' stood up fer Vincent's kid." Cid mumbled.

"Mira isn't Vincent's child. But... You say you heard a girl named Aerith stand up for her? Interesting. Be that as it may, it's only coincidence." Nanaki rumbled, taking his paws off the table and making his way back towards the radiator. "A disturbing one, but one none the less." The lion muttered under his breath, curling up with his stomach to the radiator once more.

"C'mon, Mr. Vins'nt! Please?" Mira begged, jumping up and down to get a better view over the side of the crate her object of attention was perched upon. Next to her was Aerith, also with a pleading look on her face. Vincent sighed lightly, almost so that the children couldn't hear it.

"What do you want me to do? Weren't you playing Blitzball?" Vincent asked, looking down at the two girls. Aerith shrugged and Mira stopped jumping, sitting down so she could display a large bruise and several scrapes on her knee through a new hole in her torn black dress.

"Jason wants to play Evil Scientist, just to put a Band-Aid on my knee! I don' wanna, will you tell him no?" Mira asked. Vincent stiffened, jumping down from the crate so suddenly that the two almost didn't see anything other than a flutter of red.

"You will do so yourself." Vincent said, taking Mira by one hand with his own human hand, hauling her to her feet and slowly walking across the street.

"Why?" Mira asked, looking up at Vincent with baleful eyes. He looked down for a moment, and then back to the group of children that had been playing Blitzball.

"You're not in trouble, if that's what you're wondering." Vincent said, as they broke through the ring of children to where the boy with the blue streak in his hair, Jason, was standing with his arms above his head and cackling manically. It was only a child's game, but for some reason it still gave the gunman shivers. The boy was wearing a white coat that was much too long for him, his arms swallowed by the sleeves and the rest bunched around his feet.

"Yees..." Jason began, his voice a high-pitched mockery of an old movie Mad Scientist. "Steep eento my leeair! I vill feex you!" The boy continued, brandishing a large Band-Aid in one cloth-draped hand. Vincent gently nudged Mira forward, nodding to her when she looked up at him with a questioning look in her large eyes.

"No." The six-year-old said in what she hoped was a forceful voice. Jason paused for a moment, then brandished the Band-Aid with more fervor.

"You have to!" Jason said, his accent forgotten as he attempted to force Mira to play.

"No I don't!" Mira snapped, pulling both hands to her chest and shuffling behind Vincent's legs.

"I'm bigger than you!" The boy commanded, angry at the six-year old. It was then that Vincent decided to intervene, sinking down to the boy's level with his golden claw in front of him.

"And I am bigger than you. If Mira doesn't want to play, you shouldn't force her." He commanded. Jason dropped the Band-Aid and let his arms fall to his sides, nodding dumbly. A few of the other boys in the group were straining to see the gauntleted left hand; they were moving other, less enthusiastic parts of the crowd out of the way to get a better view.

"Figures one freak would stand up for another." Jessie muttered, crossing her arms and turning away with her nose snubbed in the air. Mira began to sniffle softly while grabbing handfuls of Vincent's cloak with white-knuckled fists. Stiffly, Vincent stood and turned to Mira. He then reached down and picked up the sniffling girl, holding her close with her face buried in the loose folds of his collar. The six-year-old calmed visibly, returning the embrace as the gunslinger began to walk back across the street.

"Let's make a rule." Vincent said to the still slightly-distraught girl. Mira nodded frantically, her right hand making a fist around one of the buckles on his coat.

"M- m'kay." Mira agreed shakily, nodding into Vincent's collar. She didn't want to let go, her current best friend was that cloak and the scent was calming; it smelled like what she thought a family should smell, togetherness and happiness over bacon and eggs.

"Let's not play with the other Orphans, alright? It's much too troublesome." He asked, and Mira nodded frantically, squeezing the front of Vincent's cloak like she never wanted to let go.

Various things have been fixed. Cid's accent has been re-instated.