9: Lachesis Bobs and Weaves
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The lab coats just wouldn't take a hint. She punched, kicked and kneed them out of existence all she could, but they remained. For such flimsy things, they were tough as the common cold. A veritable oxymoron. But she found her mind meandering upon them at each and every turn. They looked too sneaky for their own good. Shinra sneaky. It was all too clear that they were up to something here in town. As to what it was, Tifa had yet to figure it out. And with rebuilding the mansion, she wasn't sure she'd have time to snoop around, either. She came to an impasse. And it visibly interfered with her work.
Vincent stood by with that penetrating gaze shooting out of his face.
Cid was off actually doing the job he'd been called to do. Relaying a prior meeting with those exact same scientists to his friends, he proclaimed washing his hands of them. And with that the end of that, the grump went about his business.
"I share your sentiments," Vincent announced.
Her own thought bubble popped, plunging her back to earth. She smiled warmly and shook her head through her haze. "Excuse me?"
"Those men. They stink of Shinra."
"I would've thought all of Shinra was gone, for good. We don't need any Hojo wannabes showing up, especially this late to a party that's been over for about three years." Tifa sighed, flailing an arm as she turned towards the mansion.
Vincent looked away.
"Maybe it's Drana," he said.
"What?"
"She's not your typical woman," her companion went on to say. He raised his left arm, twisting it slightly. "You don't remember? She brought me back. After decades of living in fear of myself..."
"Vincent…" The woman's shoulders slouched in recollection.
That one fateful day felt like yesterday when she took the time to recall it. It was the direct aftermath of Weapon's return and instant disappearance in Junon. The main players had vanished, leaving Cloud and Tifa baffled over what to do next. In the midst, no one had seen a conscious Vincent until days later, weak but insisting he could get around on his own. Bereft of that ominous claw, the gunman now seemed a little less sinister and a tad more sickly, yet... vibrant at the same time.
There was no one more perplexing than him.
"Actually, you neglected to mention Drana was the reason you don't... look like a ghast anymore," his companion remarked.
Vincent only blinked in return.
"She's a very special woman," he'd finally answered. "Even more…"
"You know something, don't you? Why haven't you told the rest of us?"
"I promised her... and... Sephiroth."
"Oy, don't get me started on Sephiroth," Tifa grunted, continuing her trek back inside the bustling shell of a mansion. Before reaching the doorless threshold, she looked back. Vincent hadn't made a move.
That man is so slow, she thought.
Finally, as if on cue, he motioned towards her. She giggled under her breath, then made her way inside.
"Tifa, get over here!" Cid called from nowhere. "We got a situation."
"What is it?" she asked, searching for his form amongst rubble and worker.
"Somebody spotted a kid running around in here."
"Oh, this is no place for a kid. Alright, leave it to me." The woman gamely cracked her knuckles and proceeded to survey the site. She'd been with enough children to know how they liked to hide, and in a place like this, no less. Swift and compact as mice, thinking they'll find a cool item or two. She and her childhood friends had been the exact same way, except for Cloud.
Tifa set about asking the workers in each area, which quickly led her to the old parlor below the mezzanine. At once, she came to stand next to the piano draped in black. With all the noises of work, the squeakings of a child would be easy to miss. But the woman's ears were keen. She threw one side of the piano's tarp into the air.
Nothing.
Too easy.
"Hmm..." Tifa grimaced playfully. "Alright, you... Come out, come out, wherever you are."
"Do I get a prize?"
The child entered the parlor forlornly from around a corner.
A dark shadow loomed behind him.
"Aw... You just got lucky."
Vincent's smirk was faint as he the boy towards Tifa.
"You look familiar," she said, kneeling. "In any case, this place is still too dangerous for kids."
"I just wanted some materia," he mumbled.
Vincent rolled his eyes. "Dare we have another Yuffie in the works?"
"Heavens forbid. But that's not the point. The point is, there's no materia in here, kiddie. Whatever gave you that idea?"
The blond-haired child kicked at the rotten wood beneath his feet, a particularly dismissive look on his cherubic face. Silence seemed to muster more of an audience from the adults than anything else. He sighed and huffed and tried every other display of frustrated defeat. But they continued to stare. At last, the boy flushed.
"M, me and some friends wanted to see the Ancient lady," he confessed. "We thought if we gave her some materia... she'd be our friend and come around more."
"Ancient lady?" Tifa glanced blankly at both Vincent and the boy.
"I think he's talking about Drana."
"Yeah, that's her name!"
A slight uneasiness pervaded Tifa and Vincent. The boy, on the other hand, only brightened with clenched fists. Between the three of them, only the man knew the 'absolute' truth. And what the kid said wasn't far from it. Thus, he twinged.
"So you guys'll let me have some materia, right?"
"Um, sorry, this house was picked clean ages ago, honest," Tifa said, gesturing to the exit. "Now run along."
"Aw man…"
"Tifa," Vincent whispered.
Initially, she only nodded. Then she breathed, "Welp, Drana… Looks like you got some unexpected followers."
---
I stole one of Sephiroth's books.
The things he read were strange. They weren't about joy or adventure, but science and combat and other things too far out of my understanding. There was even a book or two, though basic, about the Lifestream. The words of people and their experiences. I took one of those without looking back, sitting on the bedroom floor and flipping through it, skimming, taking into mind what I'd definitely read later.
A thought attacked me.
I'd never really held a book like this. Ever.
In Icicle, I touched not a single book. My memories of home were sharp and clear. It would've taken a miracle to forget all the finer details of my life back out on the tundra. I knew I looked so uneducated. But at the time, I doubted that I cared. As long as I was still welcome, such a thing was trivial. I lived in simple happiness; but now was the time to grow. Certain circumstances demanded it. Always demanding.
"Hum…" I sighed. "Well, while I'm learning to talk directly to the Planet, I guess I can use books as a little middleman."
I flipped back to the beginning. The Flow of Life, by Bugenhagen. I quirked an eyebrow at the author's name. On the inside of the book's cover, there was a short biography about the man. One of the Planet's greatest advocates of the philosophy of Spirit Energy.
I nodded respectfully.
Lifestream. The blood and spirit of the Planet.
"Where everything is given Spirit Energy before they're born and where they return to when they die. A never-ending cycle. Huh." I stared down at the hardwood floor. Some of what this book said was the exact same thing Sephiroth would tell me, or what Aerith whispered before she went away. Spirits, energies, birth, life and death, rebirth, even a most imprecise blurb about Weapons. Of course, there was nothing on me, at least nothing I would've recognized to imply something about me.
Click.
"Huh… Sephiroth!" I shouted.
Silence. Then the sound of softest footfalls.
He appeared at the door, shirtless. There was a thin sheen to his skin; the man had to have been exercising but he didn't sound winded one bit.
"Do you… Do you still have that disc?" I asked.
His currently human eyes fluttered at my question. "Disc?"
"The one about... me. And, and all that stuff."
"That disc."
"Yes?"
"I thought you wanted that buried," he told me.
"I-I know but... I actually want to know things now. Is... is that alright?"
"I'm not the one you should be asking."
He looked towards the chest of drawers next to the closet. Its bottommost drawer punched out noisily, and in a flurry of fabric, a small square of plastic flew out, arcing over the bed and falling at my knees. Sometimes, I could only grin at his needless display of power. True, it saved muscle power, but chosen over an action as simple as walking over to the drawers and pulling the disc out by hand I saw as kind of lazy.
"The mind is all that truly counts," he offered succinctly. "When the body dies, its mind and will are what remain, forever after. A body is just something to play in, and with, while your mind gets stronger for what lies beyond the Lifestream. You know me; I plan to have a good time."
"... right." I picked up the case and turned it over in my hands. Such an unassuming object for all it held on its shiny underbelly. "Oh shoot! We don't have a computer... Why don't we have a computer?"
"Do you want one? Intend to use it on a regular basis?"
"Other than looking at this disc, not really..."
"Then there's no reason to waste gil on one of those," Sephiroth said.
"Maybe you're right..." I huffed in defeat. "Maybe there's another way…"
"What are you doing with my books?" he queried.
"Oh... Heh, just reading. Thought I'd get a head start on... getting my mind stronger. Like you said."
"Good. Finally. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
He switched around and went back to the living room. I waved him off then stared intensely at the disc in my hands. What else could be done? I couldn't take it apart. Reading a disc as is would have been impossible. I wasn't a machine. I pondered going to town. But knowing Sephiroth, he'd stop me before I even stepped foot off the porch. That fear, again.
I rolled my eyes. "You're more trouble than you're worth, you know tha- Lucrecia…!"
She was with me. The author of this disc.
If only she talked like Aerith did.
But she preferred silence, only content to be near Sephiroth, seldom sending pangs through me when she wanted to be nearer, still. There was little reason in trying to get her to talk. She was a spirit of pain. And she needed an eternity of healing that I didn't want to interfere with. So that path was hopeless. But with good reason. Lucrecia needed her rest. She needed her son.
"Sephiroth!" I shouted. "Have you been to town recently?"
"Why?" he called back.
"We should go to town. How about tonight? Before the store closes and I could get some special things for dinner. What d'ya say?"
"We don't go to town unless it's absolutely necessary, you know that."
I pouted towards the living room.
"Well, I can still go by myself," I said, carelessly flipping through pages. "I'll be sure to bring you something good-"
"Oh no you don't."
I gasped up at the shadow towering over me. His shadow, his figure. He smirked darkly, resting a hand on my head and stroking my hair.
"My dear… Against better judgment, I occasionally let you go to town on your own. You do know that to ensure your absolute safety, either you stay home or I accompany you at all times. It's as simple as that." His hand became heavy. I exhaled and threw him off, on the verge of exhaustion from his condescending tone.
"Well, then come with me," I told him. "It's not like I want to do this often. Didn't you hear what I said? Special. Special things for dinner. Don't we deserve it once in a while? Huh? Don't make me beg."
"I like hearing you beg."
"I don't know why I bother..."
--
It was an hour or so past dusk. So, the majority of Nibelheim was nice and shady for visiting. And then I entered into its limits, with Sephiroth floating behind me like a black ghost. We stuck mostly to the shadows up until the water tower, where a flock of beige-suited folks roved on by us, on their way to the lively sounding inn. I was tempted to drift away and try to join in but my companion kept an ever vigilant hold on me. Sephiroth's vice grip was highly controlled; his fingers could feel nonexistent, but in reality, they were there and only allowed so much freedom.
The general store was close to closing so we had to hurry.
We leapt inside the store's doorway a bit too hastily during our rush. Sephiroth had managed to get so far under my heels that my body pitched forward into the green grocer boxes at the front of the store.
"Ahh!"
"Careful."
He had set me on my feet long before I realized he stopped me from falling. I nodded my thanks, and then looked up to the clerk. She stood there by the counter, a look of subtle shock on her round face. I smiled nervously, though like usual, it was near perfectly hidden beneath my hood.
"Sorry," I laughed. "Y-you're still open, right? We, er I, just wanna grab some stuff..."
"... help yerself." She smiled and walked round to the back of the counter.
I gathered what I could: a couple of vegetables here that I didn't have in my patch, a spice or two, and finally a roll of bread. Sephiroth lingered at the entrance, arms crossed and watching me with all the severity of a prowling killer. My face grew slightly cold when I glanced at him, but I fixed my focus back on the things in my arms. With this and what we had at home, a special meal was definitely in order, regardless of its pretenses. Steadily, I approached the clerk at the counter and settled everything on its top.
"Nice night, ain't it?" she asked. I nodded. "Right, well, that'll be six hundred and forty-six gil."
"Here you go." I watched the woman slip everything into a bag and hand it over. Smiling broadly, I took the bag and went back towards Sephiroth.
He inexplicably jostled a foot forward, which made me giggle. Then I stopped.
A red-haired man a full foot shorter than Sephiroth had bumped into and clumsily moved from behind the other. His lightly creased, bespectacled face twisted into a brief apology.
"Just wanted to buy a drink, sorry," he said. His eyes then immediately riveted themselves on the both of us.
I saw a deadly flash of green. I had to have been the only one who noticed, however.
The man was wearing a lab coat, a detail unimportant to me but sounded lots of silent alarms in my darker half. "Um, what's wrong, Se-"
"Nothing," he voiced urgently. "Let's go." Sephiroth grabbed my arm and yanked me out the door with him, knocking the man to the side. I nodded my apology, to which he dimly grinned. And then we were gone into the evening.