Chapter 1: A chance visit (Rewrite May 2013)
Two years later.
He reached his destination at sun down, travel worn, and pessimistic. He admonished himself, for the journey on the road from Midgar had taken him far longer than it should have, meaning he had no choice but to rest in the town of Kalm. He had already considered crossing the marshes, though the late hour and the darkness that accompanied it made such a journey treacherous.
He would have to rest here for the night.
Trudging the valley path towards the town in the distance, the reality of where he was dawned on him. The rusted welcome sign and his honed sense of direction confirmed that this town was indeed Kalm, though in reality little had changed over the decades; towns that lived in the shadow of Midgar never seemed to evolve.
Kalm was a quiet and peaceful town, such as its namesake. Amber lights were beginning to flicker on in the windows of the houses, though a wolf howled in the woods at his back. He would need to hurry to safety.
His pace slowed as he entered the town, footsteps made heavy by weariness. Several people bustled about the small square. A few shops remained open with owners stood outside, chatting in the setting sunlight. Slate rooftops glittered and the whitewash gleamed. He was attracting a few wary glances from the townsfolk, though he barely noticed it. He was used to such treatment, and never lingered in one place for too long.
The stillness of the town square was disrupted as the front door to the local tavern was opened into the night, releasing a swell of laughter and raised voices, a cacophony of chinking glassware and scraping chairs. It was only then that he remembered.
That must be Tifa Lockheart's bar.
Giving it no further thought he entered the nearest inn, a compact and quiet establishment, by no means the worst, but not commonly chosen by tourists. This would suit him perfectly.
He paid the young clerk at the desk for a room for the night, and followed her silently to the door.
"Here we are- room 13! You're not suspicious are you?" She said with a laugh, indicating to the faintly tarnished silver plaque on the door.
"No. I am not. This will do, thank you." He stepped inside and closed the door promptly. He appraised his surroundings; clean, simple, all the amenities he would need to put him on until morning.
Pulling off his red travelling cloak and tossing it over the back of a worn-wooden chair, he sank down onto the freshly made bed, legs relieved of their burden of carrying him. Now all that was left to do was find a place to eat; the clerk had mentioned, during her introductory and apparently mandatory chatter, that Tifa's tavern across town served good home cooked food.
This he knew already, of course. Nanaki had informed him of her relocation here with Cloud a year or so before, yet he had never made a special trip to visit. In fact there were very few members of Avalanche that were often graced with his presence. Avalanche had been a means of reaching Hojo back then, a way to exact revenge and somehow atone. He did not owe them anything, nor they him. Yet they had literally been to the ends of the world together—even beyond—and that had to count for something.
He sometimes felt a little guilt for not appearing to care about their wellbeing, or for not visiting, especially where Tifa was concerned. She had always made a special effort to not smother him with her concerns, and to keep their interactions meaningful and minimal. He did not find her presence invasive, as he did with certain other members of their party.
He wondered how she was getting along, if she was happy now, with Cloud. The poor girl was deluded, anyone could see.
With a sigh, he acquiesced. He would stop by, for an hour at least, just to see how she was doing. He could afford her that much courtesy.
-0-
Tifa looked up as the bell above the Tavern door tinkled, announcing the entrance of yet another patron. Tonight had turned out busier than usual! She smiled at them warmly, before her expression shifted to surprise. A flash of red had caught her eye in the background, bringing to mind someone she had not had cause to think about for well over a year. Was that..?
It couldn't be—not after this long. Why would he suddenly be here? She hurried to the door and peered out into the quiet square. He was nowhere to be seen.
"Vincent…" she muttered to herself, scanning the street for any sign, perhaps for another flash of his red cloak that had just a few moments before given his presence away.
No. It must have been someone else. Many travellers wore cloaks in these parts. Yet she could have been so sure…
"You alright Tifa?" Alexandra came up behind her, wiping her hands on her apron.
"I saw... I thought I saw someone I knew… that's all." with a heavy sigh, she re-entered the bar, closing the door behind her.
-0-
Tifa stood behind the bar, laughing with one of her customers as she served up drinks. In the small lantern-lit tavern, her hair gleamed copper and chocolate.
He had slipped inside unnoticed moments ago and had established himself in a vacant winged armchair by the dormant fireplace. For a moment, he could observe her privately. His drink order was taken by a barmaid named Alexandra. She returned momentarily with the ordered whisky.
Tifa finished serving her customer, alloweing her eyes to wander over the inhabitants of the bar. His head lowered, he waited for the moment when she would undoubtedly notice him, though as that moment came he was surprised to note there was genuine happiness in her expression.
"Vincent? Is that you?" She had crossed over to his table, her face near-glowing with the full force of her smile. "How long were you planning on sitting here without saying hello to me?"
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, shifting his drink from one hand to the other. "It is good to see you, Tifa."
"So what brings you to Kalm, Vincent?" Her tone sounded, if he could trust his judgement, hopeful.
"I was heading to Condor, though I encountered some trouble on the road. I needed to stop here for the night."
She nodded, and we chatted idly for a moment, until her barmaid happened to pass by collecting glasses.
"Oh, Alex—Vincent is a friend, visiting Kalm. He doesn't pay for anything, got it?" She called over her shoulder. He shifted a little in his seat again. This was not what he had intended; it might be more difficult to leave here than he had anticipated.
Got it." The red-head nodded curtly, returning to her place behind the bar.
"I have to get back to work, Vincent, but I would love to catch up some more when things wind down." She stared at him earnestly, weakening any resolve he had been trying to build. "Stick around, won't you?"
How could he refuse?
He wiled over an hour sipping at his constantly-replenished glass of whisky and watching her work. Though she bantered with her male patrons with practised ease, he noted that her positive demeanour was not quite so believable—even forced. Smiles seemed strained, her posture suggested exhaustion and even injury, and she looked thin; that legendary Tifa Lockheart figure faded away.
Something was wrong; too many signs that pointed down dark pathways. Signs that he had seen before.
-0-
Rewrite May 2013
JJ 3