Penance
©®™ Lt. Commander Richie
Disclaimer: Nomura-sama ain't got nothin' on me. Probably doesn't even know I exist to write. Which brings me to an important note: why bother with a disclaimer of there's nothing to fear?
Dedicated to: My constant reviewers. At least THEY review! Seriously! It's like you guys don't care that I could use motivation? Well, actually... I don't need motivation. But still. My hits are OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAAAND, but I only have a little over a hundred reviews! I mean, really.
I think I lost two of my most constant reviewers... My Whee is going fast. I think I may need motivation.
Chapter 17
"Blade, blade, block," Tifa watched, dishrag in one hand and plate in the other with a single Water Materia in her lap, as Yuffie slowly but deftly marched her way through a Kunoichi's technique. "Block, block, blade, block." The Ninja had a small metal-supported fan in one hand, blades out at the ends as she twirled and parried with it. The fan dance had an air of grace to it that wasn't usually seen in the woman. The red cloak lay in a heap at the base of a Wutainese Maple's skeleton, its leaves crinkled and dry. The tree was long dead, shriveled roots catching on the fabric of the ancient garment at its feet.
"Block, parry, block, blade." The routine got faster, the beautifully-painted and bladed fan whipping through the air with uncanny accuracy.
"The hell's she doing?" Tifa jumped as Cid came up behind her, teeth clenched on a cigarette. The martial artist shushed him with a look, watching as Yuffie went through the last few steps in her routine.
"Blade, blade, block, blade, block, parry, snap shut." The bladed fan snapped closed with an audible clicking sound, and with the flip of a small switch the wicked-looking blades at the end retracted into the metal ribs. With a shrug that belied the danger the weapon posed, Yuffie shoved the bladed fan into one of her back pockets and bent down to rummage through her bag. "Now, if I had my senbon umbrella I could show you some real damage. Thing is I didn't bring it 'cause the lock's broken and it randomly opens up, and I don't need to be blamed for turning Spike into any more of a Junonese Quillbeast than he already is."
"Good thing." Tifa halfheartedly agreed, absentmindedly scrubbing at the clean plate in her hand. "I certainly hope he doesn't fall off that roof. Or through it."
"Eh, stop worryin' Tifa. I was up there too, an' yeh ain't got nothin' to fear for Cloud if'n that roof could take my weight." Cid reassured, grinning and swiping a thumb across his nose. The martial artist nodded, standing up and tossing the Water Materia to Yuffie. The Kunoichi laughed and caught it in one hand, tossing it to the other before stowing it in her bag with the rest of her Materia.
"Alright. Barret and Reeve went to town to get more food, they should be back by dinner. You really shouldn't have made that stew the other night." Tifa chided, a light smile tugging at her lips. One hand went to her hips, the other poking Cid in the chest.
"Eh? Why not?" The pilot asked, perplexed.
"Because! You used all the vegetables, and the kids need vegetables!" Yuffie laughed again, pulling a few scrolls from her bag and replacing them with the fan out of her pocket.
"You know, Teef, I think they'd disagree. 'Cept Mira, though. She'd probably do anything if you or Spike told her to." She snapped one scroll open and then, shoving the other into her belt pouch, began taking measured steps towards the ShinRa mansion.
"Yeah, either you two or the vampire, at least." Cid agreed, and was promptly met with a shove to the chest by Tifa and a whack on the side of the arm by Yuffie's scroll. The Kunoichi bit her lip and took another few measured steps.
"Stop it." Tifa snapped, grabbing the front of Cid's collar and bringing his head down to her level. It wasn't very far, but the pilot still had to stoop to keep from hurting himself.
"Stop wha'?" He asked around his cigarette, and with her free hand the martial artist holding him captive took and threw the offending item away. "'Ey! I was smokin' that!"
"I'm sure you were, Cid, but now's not the time. You know, every time you call Vincent a vampire, Yuffie gets upset." Tifa asserted, and the pilot shrugged.
"What's yer point? If'n the kid wants ter act like 'im, she can go boot ol' musty outta 'is coffin." Tifa was not amused. She flung one hand back, like she was going to smack the older man much like she had hit Cloud, but paused and bit her lip. Cid cringed, expecting an impact, but none came.
"Apologize." The martial artist said, watching over Cid's shoulder as Yuffie's steps lost their vigor as she listened in on the conversation. "Apologize and mean it."
"I ain't doin' nothin'!" The pilot protested, yanking his shirt free of Tifa's grip and straightening his back with a few pops. "Kid knows I'm jus' pullin' 'er leg." Behind him, Yuffie finally reached the wall of the Mansion and was looking in both directions down the stone wall and angling her scroll to match the angles of the walls.
"It's alright, Tifa." The Kunoichi called, rolling the scroll shut and shoving it into one of her pockets. "I need to get to work anyway." In a few flickered movements, she had scaled the wall and reopened the scroll, rolling it down the wall so that the cylinder of wood tied to the end of the cloth touched the grassy ground. Yuffie attached the scroll to the roof with a small length of rope, and then jumped down to the ground. She did a flip and landed in a crouch, getting to her feet in an instant and banging on the wall. There was no discernible rattling or noise or movement, but the Ninja felt something out of the ordinary; with a flick of both hands she spattered blood on the scroll from one thumb and then smeared it through the scribbled ink writing. The scroll folded itself into the wall, and the wall began to gleam dully as though it was reinforced with metal.
Her work done, the Kunoichi sat down next to the wooden cylinder on the ground, picking it up and turning it around in one hand several times. Tifa shoved Cid in Yuffie's direction, fixing him with a stern look. The pilot finally acquiesced, throwing his hands up in the air above his head with a groan and walking towards the young Ninja at the foot of the Mansion's wall.
"'Ey, kid, you ain't lookin' so hot." He said, standing above the Kunoichi and casting a shadow over her in the barely-there filtered light from the sun behind the thick clouds.
"I'm okay." Yuffie insisted, chucking the wooden piece of her old scroll bodily away from herself into the tall grass in the woods. She tucked one knee up to her chest, draping her same side arm over it and resting her chin on her wrist.
"No, yeh ain't." Cid insisted, puling a new cigarette from the pack tucked under the strap of his goggles, sticking it in his mouth and lighting it with a lighter from one pocket. He put the lighter away, exhaling a puff of smoke from one side of his mouth before pulling the cigarette out and shaking off excess ashes. "If'n yer fine, then Rufus ShinRa's footin' the WRO."
"I'm alright, okay?" Yuffie said, pushing to her feet and crossing her arms. "Nothing's wrong with me, old man!" Cid put the cigarette back in his mouth, frowning all the while.
"Don' call me 'Old man', kid." He insisted, crossing his arms and looking down at the slightly distraught Ninja before him. "I ain't nearly as old as ol' tall, dark an' mopey."
It was sudden, her movement, faster than the pilot could properly see. One second Yuffie was several feet away, arms crossed as she regarded the older man with anger and just a little hurt in her eyes. The next she was right there, next to him, arms around his middle as she hugged him tightly and cried. Cid cautiously put his arms around the Ninja's shoulders, not quite sure what to do.
"I- I should be beating y-you into a," Yuffie sobbed, her words coming out choked. "A bloody pulp, fo- for saying all that stuff a- about Vinnie..." Tears stained the pilot's shirt as the Kunoichi cried, large drops spattering like blood across his once-clean blue shirt.
"But yeh won't?" Cid asked, and Yuffie frantically nodded into his chest. "S'okay, kid. Yeh can beat on me when yer feelin' better."
Mira's scream was glass-shattering, but even though the object of her fear was the puddle of rusty blue surrounding her feet she stood rooted to the spot. Tears streamed down the six-year-old's face, falling onto the carpet and turning the blue a brighter shade. Marlene quickly turned off the lights, taking Mira by the hand and leading the hysterical girl from the room. As soon as the blue blood under her feet was gone, the smaller girl visibly calmed; though she was still badly shaken, her crying slowed.
"Are you okay?" Marlene asked, and Mira shook her head. She settled herself into a corner, tucking her knees up to her face and gripping them tightly.
"No. I don' wanna go back in there!" The six-year-old exclaimed, fresh tears flowing down her face as she looked up at the older girl. Marlene smiled in what she hoped would be a comforting way, putting her hands on her knees and leaning down over Mira's huddled form.
"You don't have to. I'll go." Mira's nearly-vacant and scared gaze only focused on a small grass stain on Marlene's white skirt, nodding numbly without really hearing. Marlene hurried back into the room with the monster's abused skeleton, leaving the six-year-old to her own devices. Fresh tears still flowed down the petite girl's face, as shaking fingers drew themselves from her knees and reached into her only pocket, withdrawing the darkly-glowing orb of Summon the Dead Materia.
"I'm alone." Mira whispered, holding the orb in both cupped hands in front of her chest. "Mr. Vins'nt said he would help me, but he isn't here. I miss him." More tears fell onto the Materia, making it flash brighter. The smallest ghost of a comforting touch, like that of a parent's hug, enveloped the small girl. The six-year-old knew there was no one there, but it didn't stop her from looking up into the seemingly deserted hallway. Her blue glowing Mako eyes surprisingly met a pair mirroring her own, but only for a second. The next moment, they were gone.
"Mumma?" Mira asked, surprised. The petite girl looked down at the lightly glowing Summon the Dead Materia in her hands in wonderment, before hugging it tightly to her chest. "Mumma." She asserted, smiling. A cry of indignation filtered from the room housing the old mangled skeleton of the blue-blooded monster, making the six-year-old clutch her piece of Materia tighter. Inside, Marlene was at her last little wit's end. None of the clues gave a clue as to where the last clue would be, and in anger the older girl threw the crumpled piece of paper to the ground. It fluttered lightly in a cool gust from the long-outdated ventilation system, flipping over several times until it became lodged under one of the monster's skeletal arms. Marlene watched its path, becoming curious as she noted yet another piece of paper lodged under the arm. It was stained, like the monster's flesh had decayed on top of it. Cautiously she reached for both pieces of paper, withdrawing the smaller, more stained piece first. In a somewhat tidy, somewhat scribbled and sprawling script, two words were written.
"Basement key?" The older girl said aloud, looking at the oddly-shaped and disgustingly stained piece of paper with a querying eye. A rotting piece of string was looped through a hole at the end of the paper, a clean cut from a razor edge just next to the large knot. "It's better than nothing." She decided, stepping around the spine of the monster's skeleton and towards the door. The girl turned off the lights and closed the door behind herself, walking slowly over to Mira's huddled form in the corner. The six-year-old looked up at Marlene's arrival, smiling widely even though she had tear tracks down her face. In both hands was clasped her Summon the Dead Materia, the girl's tiny fingers white from holding it so hard.
"Did you do it?" Mira asked, not bothering to push her red ribbon from her forehead. Marlene sighed and held up the stained piece of old paper, shaking her head.
"No, but I found this. I think it was in the safe once." The older girl said, and Mira cringed at a light blue faded stain on the paper. Noticing this, Marlene tucked the tag into her pocket and reached out a hand to the six-year-old. "Come on! Let's see what's at the end!"
Mira shook her head, not wanting to let go of the Materia in her hands. "I thought you didn't wanna find treasure!" The little girl said, making Marlene smile.
"I thought you did! C'mon, what would Junon Jones do?" The older girl asked, her smile growing wider as she held out both hands to help Mira up from her corner. The six-year-old finally let go of her Summon with one hand, stowing the precious piece of solid Lifestream in her solitary pocket. She grabbed both of Marlene's hands, and together the two made their way back out of the hallway. Mira turned her head to Marlene, looking up at the older girl with wide glowing blue Mako eyes.
"You don't even know who Junon Jones is." The six-year-old accused shortly, and Marlene turned and stuck her tongue out.
"Yes I do. He looked for Materia during the Wutai War, remember?" She asked, smiling. Mira stuck her tongue out as well, reaching into her pocket and fingering the Materia there. As far as the petite girl was concerned right then, everything was right in the world.
"Cloud?" Tifa called, shielding her eyes from the noontime sun. A shadowed figure on the roof stood up, jumping both stories and landing in a crouch in front of the martial artist. Cloud had a pair of sunglasses on and a hammer hanging from his belt, an empty coffee can in one hand.
"Yeah?" The swordsman asked, setting the coffee can that was one full of nails on the ground and straightening to his feet.
"Do you know where Vincent could be?" Tifa asked, taking her hand from her forehead and clasping it in the other. "I'm getting worried; what if something happened to him? Yuffie is already having a depressive breakdown, and if this goes on Mira will catch on..."
Cloud put a gloved hand to Tifa's mouth, stemming the stream of babble. He smiled warmly, or at least as warmly as he could without agitating the bruise on his face, and pulled the martial artist into a hug.
"Wherever he is, Vincent is fine. He's the most capable out of all of us." He said, and Tifa nodded into his shoulder.
"I'm just worried, is all. Vincent may be capable, but he left Yuffie and Mira behind. Mira is asking questions already, I don't know how to tell her that he just left." They both paused for a moment, neither saying anything. "This is ironic." Tifa finally finished, sighing.
"Why?" Cloud asked, stepping away from the martial artist and leaning against the side of the mansion. She did the same, crossing her arms and fixing the swordsman with a mocking glare.
"I never have to explain your unexplained leave-takings to Marlene and Denzel because nothing ever goes wrong, but as soon as Vincent leaves, even though he's always gone, everything goes wrong." She chuckled a bit at the morose subject, closing her eyes and sighing.
"Tifa." Cloud said after a few minutes, head shooting up as he turned to the martial artist next to him.
"Hmm?" She asked, looking up.
"I think I know where Vincent is." The swordsman said, shoving himself from the wall and to his feet. Tifa jumped as well, uncrossing her arms.
"Where?" She asked, but suddenly spun into an attack pose as she heard an ear-splitting scream. A small blur ran past, the red ribbon flying out of her wildly-whipping hair as she whipped by at Second Class speed. The scream was monosyllabic, but it conveyed easily enough that the six-year-old was distressed.
"Mira!" Cloud yelled, following after the petite girl that should not have been capable of the speeds that she was exhibiting. Tifa followed closely after, hoping that the little girl would not hurt herself. In passing she stooped to pick up the six-year-old's ribbon, clutching the knotted, looped and frayed piece of silk tightly.
"It's dark down there." Mira stated, peering down the spiraling stairs into the basement. Marlene held her hand, pulling her towards the top step.
"You can see! Your eyes glow, so I can see too." She said, smiling in the darkness. It was true, Mira could see every corner and cranny of the stairwell without really seeing them; it was pitch black but she still saw the steps like there were lights. The six-year-old cautiously descended the stairs, leading the completely dark-blinded Marlene down the stone stairwell. Eventually it leveled out, bleeding into a hallway with cobwebs in every corner. The walls were nondescript and cold stone, pockmarked with scratches inches deep and several feet long that came in threes. Even in the dim light filtering from the cracked and sputtering, nearly burnt-out bulbs above, Marlene was the first to see the glint of a key protruding from the wall.
It was burnished brass, rusting lightly and wedged sharply into a very rusted and very old wooden door. At a feathery touch from the older girl, who held steadily onto the upper portion of Mira's arm with white knuckles, the door swung open with a rusted squeak. The room beyond was dusty and old, the footprints of those who had come and gone etched into the dust. Mira broke free of Marlene's grip, putting one tiny foot into the large and pointed boot-print she knew to be Vincent's. The six-year-old amused herself in this way, trying in vain to find his next print amid the jumble of other prints on the ground. She abandoned her original venture, taking long strides so as to match the sneaker prints she figured to be Yuffie's.
"Maybe this was a bad idea." Marlene held back, staying in the light and afraid to go in the dark. Mira spun around in place several times, taking in the entire room.
"What would Junon Jones do?" The six-year-old asked, sitting herself down on the steps up to a large wooden box. She rested one elbow in a hand, poking herself on the top of the head with the free hand much like a certain yellow bear.
"I don't know!" Marlene was getting scared; the darkness in the passage was getting deeper and deeper, and as soon as all the lightbulbs dimmed all the way, all the creepy-crawlies in the mansion would come out to eat them both. "I don't care! I wanna go back up where the light is!"
"If you wanna go, then go." Mira stopped her machinations, crossing her arms and turning slightly away from the other girl. Something shining on the ground distracted the tiny girl, and she got up to look at it. Marlene took this chance to run for the stairs like Sephiroth himself was behind her, nearly screaming as she bolted out into the library and stood in front of one of the windows to look out into the sunlight, so as to assure herself it was still there. Mira picked up the chain at the end of the platform topped by the long wooden box, pulling it from the ground and holding it in front of her face. Green glass leaves attached to the chain at intervals, and at the bottom a small circle of glass flowers topped a wire cage shaped like a lily. Inside the cage was a tiny golden bell with a single rune on it, and as it rang it instilled a sense of comforting power over the six-year-old.
"Aerith's Heal Bell!" The petite girl exclaimed, recognizing the trinket as one of Aerith Zeit's most prized possessions. "Why's it here?" She wondered aloud, before carefully stowing the chain in her single pocket with her Summon the Dead Materia. Mira's attentions quickly turned to the largest object in the room, the long and tall box on the platform just behind her. Not quite sure as to what would be in it, the little girl pried her tiny fingers under the lid that was at her shoulder level and pushed upwards with as much strength as she could muster. The lid went flying backwards, skittering across the underground room and smashing into the wall in a blast of splinters. Looking down, Mira shrieked in surprise. Vincent lay in the box, surrounded by faded and decaying velvet cushions and his neck bare without his cloak. His arms crossed each other, the golden claw resting over his heart and his gloved one crossed underneath. His eyes were closed, giving the impression of deep sleep. The six-year-old visibly calmed when she realized who it was, but it only lasted a moment. Her brow furrowed, and she looked from the remains of the box's lid to the sleeping man in front of her and back. He should have woken up, right?
"Mr. Vins'nt, wake up!" The little girl called, taking both hands and shaking the gunman's claw. He made no move, the claw falling back into place over his heart. Beginning to become frantic, Mira slid one hand under the claw onto his heart and the other to his neck in a crude approximation of searching for someone's pulse. When she found none, however, was when the six-year-old began to worry. Tears began streaming down her cheeks as she clasped one of her tiny hands into his larger clawed one, the other hand fumbling in her pocket for Aerith's Heal Bell.
"Please, don't sleep!" Mira cried, tiny fingers clasping around the chain and leaves of the Heal Bell and pulling it out. A single note rang true as she pulled it out, the old armband Marlene had wrapped around the little girl's finger that had been caught in the box falling away and resting it across Vincent's opposite arm. The barely-there bruise faded into nothingness as the last of the bell's notes faded, but Vincent didn't wake up. "Don't sleep! Don't sleep like Mumma!"
No reaction was garnered, and finally the six-year-old realized her fears; even though he was there, even though he wasn't in the Lifestream, Vincent would not wake up. Just like her mother, and she was alone. And so she screamed, the Heal Bell clutched tightly in one fist as she ran out the door of the underground chamber and up the stairs with all the strength she had left.
Yeah, wow that's long. I think it may be the longest yet. Well, I got caught up in plot and one thing led to another, and I kept writing, and writing, and writing, and I look down and it's six pages long. There's just something about plot that's just so much fun!
Plot is like tomato soup. The recipie varies from cook to cook, but it's always better when it isn't from a can.
-Sniffle- Almost to the end of a storyarc... Yuffie gets to pound on Vincent next.
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