Chapter 5
Departing Flights and Fireside Chats
Tifa scowled and cursed her luck at the small selection of food left at the buffet, choosing a cheese souffle and coffee for lack of anything else appetizing. She settled into a seat overlooking the beach, sipping her coffee as she looked out of the window. A smile broke as she recalled her evening stroll on the sandy shore with the usually aloof Vincent Valentine.
"I see you're a latecomer to breakfast as well, Tifa," Reeve claimed the chair next to her, chasing away an image of her dance partner before she could dwell on the fact that Vincent was in her thoughts.
"Morning, Reeve. I hope your ship has coffee ready. This stuff doesn't cut it for me," she yawned at the last word, politely shielding her gaping mouth from view with her cup.
"Don't worry. The galley crew keeps it brewed fresh the entire flight. And I much prefer the flavor to this dark water," Reeve complained, peering into his mug. "Where's Denzel? I promised him a tour of the ship's engine room once we board."
"Oh, you just missed them. Barret took the kids out to the water before we head off." She looked out of the window and pointed to a group in the water. "Ugh—she's soaked," Tifa sighed in irritation.
Reeve chuckled as he ate his eggs, nodding his head as he watched the kids jump in the water while Barret fussed at them. "Looks like something I would have done when I was a kid. It's hard to resist the temptation." Tifa chuckled silently over her souffle, and he raised his brows at her laughter.
"I'm sorry, Reeve," Tifa giggled sweetly as she looked up at him. "For some reason, I pictured a ten-year-old with a beard and a cat puppet on his arm." She tried to drink her coffee through her smile and giggles as Reeve held his hand to his chest in mock offense.
"Good morning, Commissioner," a man greeted as he approached their table from the buffet. Tifa immediately noticed his mako-infused eyes and larger-than-average frame common among former SOLDIERs. He carried two trays of food while a woman with thin blonde hair waited patiently behind him. Reeve returned the greeting and pointed to the empty chairs at the table in invitation. Tifa couldn't place where she had seen the SOLDIER before, but he seemed familiar.
Tifa caught a full view of the woman before she grabbed a seat, shocked to see that she was pregnant and skinny. Dark circles rimmed her watery eyes, and her gaunt cheeks were almost devoid of color. The woman reminded Tifa of the slums, where starving mothers were a common sight in the shadier areas, begging for money and scraps of food from any charitable person. She shuddered as she recalled the unhappy times and wondered at the woman's condition. Her appearance wasn't brought on by poverty. She was sick from something else.
Reeve remembered his manners and introduced the couple. "Tifa, you recall Luxiere? He's recently been promoted to Captain and team leader over one of our security teams. And this is his lovely wife, Liza."
Luxiere nodded at Tifa and sipped his coffee. His wife gave a polite 'Nice to meet you,' and Tifa offered her a friendly smile and 'Hi' in response. As Liza picked at her banana muffin, Tifa spotted her hands shaking. The effort to eat seemed to exhaust her.
"I'm going to get another cup. Would anyone else like something while I'm up?" Reeve asked as he rose to stand next to his chair. When Tifa shook her head, he pushed his chair in and said, "Excuse me a moment," as he turned to walk away.
"Tifa Lockhart? Is that right?" Luxiere stared at her with a smug gleam in his eyes.
"Yes," Tifa said almost curtly at his arrogant tone and took a bite of her souffle.
"I remember you," he continued. "Last year at Kunsel's birthday. You were the one wearing that green dress, right?" he asked and motioned at his chest, hands making a V-shape below his collar.
Tifa reddened, glancing at Liza, who looked away in embarrassment as her husband's face spread in a lecherous grin. Yes, she remembered the dress. She had worn it because it made her feel more mature and loved how it hugged her curves but concealed far more than the outfits she wore when she was younger. Luxiere laughed at her muted shame.
Unconcerned with either woman's discomfort, he leaned forward and folded his arms on the table. "So, I've always wondered," he started, and Tifa glanced back up. He continued his question as Reeve returned to the table. "What really happened in Nibelheim?"
Tifa sucked in a breath, too stunned at the inconsiderate question to respond. Luxiere didn't balk even as Reeve cleared his throat. His smirk only spread further across his face, and Tifa guessed he enjoyed being a prick.
"Liza," Reeve thankfully disrupted the uncomfortable conversation. "I've had a private cabin prepared for you on the ship for our return. Please feel free to get settled in whenever you're ready. We'll be leaving around noon." He smiled at her.
"Thank you, Commissioner," she said weakly. "Lux, can we go?" Her voice sounded small as she pled with him.
Luxiere huffed, slowly rising from his chair, and placed an arm around his wife's shoulders as he guided her away. He grinned over his shoulder at Tifa before they exited the lounge.
Tifa felt relieved at his departure, recalling his boorish behavior from Kunsel's party. He was not well-liked among the former SOLDIERs Cloud had managed to befriend.
"I apologize for that, Tifa," Reeve interrupted her thoughts. "Luxiere has always been rather ill-mannered. I hope you aren't too upset by his insensitivity. He would go much further if not for his arrogance."
"It's fine, Reeve. That wasn't your fault," she assured him. "So, Liza? Is she ok? I noticed—I mean—is she pregnant?" Tifa hoped her question didn't appear intrusive; she was genuinely concerned for the young woman.
"Ah, right. That's ok, Tifa," he smiled grimly. "Yes, Liza is pregnant."
"She seemed like she wasn't feeling well. I hope she makes it through the flight ok."
"That's why I offered a private cabin. Pregnancy is particularly hard on women carrying babies of SOLDIERs," he explained.
"But I thought SOLDIERs couldn't have children." It had been well-known that SOLDIERs were sterile. She had never heard of one that had produced a child. "I guess that's not true?"
"Well, that's what we had all believed. No SOLDIER in the three-plus decades since the inception of the program had impregnated a single woman," Reeve explained. "This is a recent development, a new issue that's come up over the last few months. We're currently treating five mothers impregnated by former SOLDIERs."
"And are they all sick like Liza?" Tifa asked with concern.
"To varying degrees—yes, unfortunately." His tone turned more solemn as he continued, "And we've already lost two mothers. Most—well—their bodies just aren't strong enough to carry to term."
"Oh gods, that's terrible," she said somberly, a hand to her chest. "Is there any treatment?"
"Currently, the only treatment our scientists have found are mako injections."
"What? But that—"
Reeve held up a hand to her to placate her. "Yes, I know. But it's the only thing we know to do now. They're given low doses, which have allowed doctors to give them other necessary treatments that lessen their complications. Without it, their bodies don't respond to anything. But it's a top priority for us," he assured her and then gulped down a mouth full of eggs.
With breakfast complete, Tifa excused herself and returned to her room to pack. She worried over Reeve's revelations. Mako treatments? Are they serious?
She recalled the effects on Cloud from mako poisoning. He had suffered from it twice, catatonic and slow to regain control of his mind. What would be the effects on mothers? And their babies? An image of Sephiroth invaded her mind. Hang on, slow down. They're not injecting them with Jenova cells.
She jumped at a bang on the door.
"Tifa!" a little girl's voice shouted. "Tifa, open the door! I'm cold!"
She opened the door and dodged a very wet Marlene, who shot past her with a backpack slung over her shoulder.
"Hey, little shark! Did you have fun at the beach?" She asked as Marlene slammed the door to the bathroom.
"Yeah!" Marlene yelled and then started the shower.
"Hey, Teef. Marlene come in here?" Barret stood at the door, scanning the room for his daughter.
"Yeah, she's in the bathroom. Where's Denzel?"
"He's back in my room hittin' the shower. You mind gettin' Marlene on the ship when y'all ready?"
"Yeah, no problem."
"Thanks, Teef." As he closed the door, Tifa returned to her packing, stuffing as much as possible into a single suitcase. She paused again at a softer knock. When Tifa opened the door, Shera walked in and kissed her cheek.
She helped Tifa place her make-up and hair products into a suitcase as she cleared her throat. "So—" Shera gradually began. "You and Vincent—that dance was—wow."
Tifa blushed as she positioned the luggage near the door. "You were very handsome together." Shera winked at her and raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"This is so awkward," Tifa mumbled in embarrassment.
"Oh, get over it. From what I could see, the both of you thoroughly enjoyed yourselves," Shera gently teased.
Tifa abandoned her denial and huffed. "I did," she confessed with a slight smile. "I think he did, too. But—Cloud was—I don't know. I think it bothered him."
"Tifa," Shera grabbed her shoulders, turning Tifa to look at her. "Don't you think you and Cloud need a fresh start? Without each other?"
"Shera, come on. We've been through this." Tifa said with exasperation. "He still occasionally disappears—and then doesn't sleep sometimes."
"Honey, eventually you have to let Cloud solve these issues for himself. The two of you will never move on if you're clinging to each other—plus—I don't want to upset you. But it appeared like you were fighting. And—I noticed you snapping at him a few times. If you've reached that level of unhappiness, you need to—"
"Shera—" Tifa didn't want to hear this again. Every discussion about Cloud ended up with everything Tifa needed to do.
"No—now let me finish," Shera interjected. "You two mean so much to each other. To all of us. At some point—you've got to move on. Haven't you tried dating yet?"
At Tifa's glare, Shera threw up her hands in a pacifying gesture and continued, "Oh honey, now maybe you should. Who knows—maybe you'll find Mister Right on one of those dating apps. Oh, what's the one all the kids like nowadays? Umm—there's Love on the Edge, uh—Calamity Soulmates—and what is that new one? Oh! Chocobo Farmers Mingle. And Meteor Meetup!"
"Oh Shera, be serious," Tifa couldn't help but laugh at the last one. "Meatier Meetup?" She struck a bodybuilder pose, teasing Shera for the suggestion.
"Not Meatier. Gutter-brain—it's MeteOR." Shera laughed at her. "And I am serious, Tifa. Start dating. Get out there and socialize a bit. I think you'll enjoy life more if you have something to do other than run a bar and fold Cloud's socks."
Tifa scowled with a hand on her hip but soon after devolved into laughter at Shera's summary of her life. Am I really that boring?
"That's better—more laughter. I need to go," Shera said as Marlene came out of the bathroom. "Hey, little bug! It's time to head out. Can I have a hug?"
Marlene hugged her as another knock interrupted Tifa's packing. Cloud came through the adjoining room door and asked if Tifa was ready.
"Yeah, I'm just finishing up."
"And I'm leaving now," Shera said. Tifa helped Marlene adjust her backpack over her shoulders as she closed the door.
"You don't have any more bags, do you?" Cloud asked a little impatiently at the door.
"No, that's it. I'll grab that one if you take this," Tifa offered, and they wrangled their bags and kids and left the hotel.
Vincent slept in his cabin until the sound of Cid's enraged bellowing traveled through the ceiling and interrupted his dreams. He threw an arm over his head in the darkness of his shrouded bed.
'Gotdammit, Ensign! I said to find the fuckin' helmsman an hour ago! An' if he shows up drunk, I'm gonna throw his ass overboard once we're airborne!'
The irate captain stomped away, scattering dust over Vincent's face as the ceiling above shuddered. He sputtered and coughed, wiping his face as he sat up and tossed the curtains aside. Vincent leaned forward on his elbows, fighting an urge to tear through the ceiling and hunt Cid down on his own ship.
He took a calming breath and realized his thoughts were clear of his usual morning musings. It occurred to him that this marked the first time in many years he woke from a sleep that didn't follow unbidden dreams of Lucrecia or some calamitous nightmare. He knew the cause. The previous evening was the first he had held a different woman since meeting the former ShinRa scientist. And to his surprise, he felt relieved.
He showered and chuckled to himself as thoughts of a dark-haired beauty washed over him with the water. What is this new crush? Maybe he should seek a temporary companion to rid himself of these thoughts. Daydreaming about one of the only close friends he could claim was no replacement for his usual misery.
He could hear movement outside, and Reeve's voice echoed through the walls. He knew the commissioner would travel aboard the WRO ship anchored near The Shera, so it was odd to hear him aboard so close to departure. Vincent left his cabin and searched the vessel for his whereabouts.
"Vincent, there you are," Reeve called from the passenger lounge.
Nanaki had curled up on the couch by an open window, sleeping contentedly in the morning breeze. Reeve casually sipped a cup of coffee, waiting for Vincent to respond. "Morning, Reeve. What brings you here?"
"Well, I want to restate my last offer to you. We're in much need of assistance with our Intelligence Department. I had hoped you had given the proposal more consideration, as you said you might." Reeve waited patiently for Vincent's response.
Vincent had given it much thought over the last few months but still needed to make a trip to the canyon. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, tucking his chin into his chest as though reconsidering. He craved more responsibilities for himself, as he had been feeling less valuable as the world moved on from survival mode.
"Ahem—" Reeve grew nervous at Vincent's lack of response. "We will be short-staffed soon enough when Yuffie's royal duties become her foremost obligation. She's assured me she will work with the WRO full-time, but I believe her motivation lies with proving to her father she can do both. He prefers that she take on her responsibilities to Wutai, but he's also cognizant of needing eyes on the inside—"
Vincent let Reeve drone on while he contemplated what the commitment would entail. Office work? Reports? Field exercises? Freedom would be hard to give up, but Reeve's offer was an enticing alternative to his growing boredom. He only wanted to ensure the timing was right.
"—and now that we're seeing SOLDIER-related pregnancies, I'm needing a team to gather the research in the old ShinRa archives so that we—"
"Weren't they sterile?"
"Yes, well they were—before," Reeve answered. "There's much to discuss, Vincent. I think we're going to need to travel into the Deepground labs to obtain whatever we may have missed and then—try to find whatever—if anything—is left of ShinRa's archives in the old building, as well as a small collection team to the mansion in Nibelheim. I'll need someone to lead these teams."
"I thought you'd already extracted everything from their databases."
"Yes, well—not everything. We've only ever collected the information we needed when we were collecting it. ShinRa had an enormous amount of data on many topics," Reeve sounded exasperated. "We've never had the storage space before, to be honest. Our initial concerns were to get an economy and food supplies running again."
"And now you're desperate." Vincent hoped his words didn't sound like an accusation. He knew the WRO had been working hard on many different aspects of the world's recovery. And unfortunately, it relied heavily on funds from the president of the company that had caused its near destruction.
"We are," Reeve admitted, appearing not in the slightest offended at Vincent's remark. "I would like you to head our intel unit. As well as lead the collection teams for this data. We don't have a lot of time. The pregnancies—have significant complications—"
"I'll work independently," Vincent felt a surge of guilt—responsibility to help, recalling a single memory of Lucrecia's suffering and wondered if the current pregnancies were similar. "I don't mind taking a team, but—I don't want the headache of running a department, Reeve."
"Agreed," Reeve said without hesitation. "I suppose I'll find another to run it. Right now, it's Yuffie, but we'll see how long that lasts with all her responsibilities."
"I have to do something first," Vincent said as Reeve appeared to be satisfied the conversation was over. "I'm traveling to the canyon with Nanaki."
"Ah, not a problem. So, I can expect you—?"
"A week or so," Vincent offered.
"Perfect. I should be going, then. I would hate to be left behind," Reeve chuckled as he shook Vincent's hand. "Thank you, Vincent. We need you."
Vincent said nothing as the commissioner waved to Nanaki and left the passenger cabins.
"I hope you know what you're getting into," Nanaki said as he stretched on the couch.
"What do you mean?" Vincent glanced sideways at the red beast.
"Won't this technically make Yuffie your boss?" Nanaki smiled at him, opening his eye to catch Vincent's reaction.
"Hmph," Vincent managed to say as Nanaki began to chuckle.
He headed to the ship's deck just as The Shera took flight. The ship trembled as it began to hover, forcing his hands on the railing to steady himself. As they rose higher, he could see the others on the deck of the WRO ship. Barret played tag with Marlene, whose high-pitched squeal carried through the air. Cloud and Denzel leaned against the railing in silence, watching the other two dart back and forth.
Toward the front of the ship, he spied Tifa and thought her a pretty picture as her long hair caught in the breeze. Shielding her eyes against the sun with an arm, she looked up to him and waved. A pair of sandals dangled from her hand, reminding him of her bare feet covered in sand. Vincent held up his right hand and smiled as she noticed, excitedly waving both hands to him in response.
Nanaki sped up as he loped toward the city gate of Cosmo Canyon to catch up to Vincent. His two-legged friend had exited the ship before him, not prolonging the goodbye to Cid as Nanaki thanked the pilot for his hospitality. He envied Vincent for his ability to socialize in such an aloof manner without offending.
"I'm going to check-in at the inn," Vincent said once they had passed the guards at the gate.
"Would you like something to eat? There is plenty brought out near the bonfire," Nanaki offered.
"Was hoping for more privacy." Vincent stared ahead and continued without glancing at Nanaki, who cautiously moved past the crowds gathering for the evening feast. Along the pathways, they passed many villagers who avoided Vincent with apparent apprehension, quickly turning their heads if his eyes met theirs and giving him wide passage. The man's appearance still frightened people. Perhaps he liked the hostile reaction as their fear ensured he would not be bothered.
"I will find a suitable place," he promised Vincent as the man entered the Starlet Pub and climbed the stairs to the Shildra Inn.
Nanaki left him to it and sought out the elders. With everything Vincent had revealed during their flight—Nanaki needed help with his lingering questions. He could offer Vincent theories, but Nanaki had never seriously studied beyond his grandfather's teachings.
When Nanaki returned, he led Vincent to the clifftop outside Bugenhagen's Planetarium. The tower sat empty; its resident had passed years earlier. Around a small fire in front of the building sat two old men. Elder Bughe cradled a jug of moonshine in his lap, sitting cross-legged and staring at the flames rising into the night. Elder Hargo had settled next to him, a book and quill laid beside him in the dirt.
"I will leave you to discuss, Vincent," Nanaki turned to leave.
"No, it's fine. Stay—the conversation will interest you."
Elder Hargo held out his hand, inviting Vincent and Nanaki to sit by the fire. Nanaki waited patiently as Vincent sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the elders as though assessing their knowledge. Although he did not always understand Vincent's penchant for silence, he came to know that it was the man's way to choose his words carefully.
"You know me?" Vincent abruptly asked, looking Hargo in the eye and briefly glancing toward Bughe. "And my fate?" Nanaki realized Vincent did not want to explain himself or the experiments that had changed him.
Hargo nodded in response. Bughe offered no reaction as he took a sip from his jug and stared at him. With glazed eyes, the elder appeared already intoxicated. Nanaki wondered if his inebriation had reached a level that forfeited his ability to converse.
"I've read interesting research about the Lifestream. Like to know the truth if I can," Vincent said after another long silence.
"Ah, I see. And how can we help you on your pilgrimage?" Hargo asked, placing his book and pen in his lap.
"The Lifestream has all the answers," Bughe slurred slightly. "I thought your group was familiar with it."
"And how does it work for someone immortal?" Hargo and Bughe glanced at each other in confusion, then back to Vincent as if waiting for him to explain his question. "What does the Lifestream do with someone corrupted?"
"Immortality is not possible, I think," Hargo replied after another long silence.
Bughe shook his head in disagreement and countered the argument, "Hm—A chocobo is immortal to a fly."
Hargo scoffed, challenging Bughe's suggestion. The elders faced each other and began debating immortality and the myths of the Lifestream between themselves. Bughe drank from his moonshine jug every few words, offering a sip to those around the fire while continuing his deliberation with Hargo. The two seemed to forget Vincent and Nanaki were present as they lost themselves in discussing the possibility and meaning of eternal life.
"I suppose immortality is relative. Certainly, Nanaki's tribe seems immortal to the average chocobo," Hargo conceded after a few minutes. "Are you sure you don't misunderstand your condition?" he questioned Vincent, waving Bughe's bottle away.
Vincent remained silent as he lowered his chin, and a half-smile flitted across his face. "That has—crossed my mind."
"Aha!" Bughe spat out as he motioned toward Vincent. "So, you look for death," Bughe began to laugh. He had become steadily drunker as the conversation continued. "Oh, to be a young man for a lifetime or many—but then—aha, be old just as long—but dead is still forever."
"The Lifestream—" Vincent began again, ignoring Bughe. "It didn't absorb Sephiroth when he was thrown into it."
"You wish to be released from your fate?" Hargo assumed. "And you're afraid that, like him, your corrupted cells will be rejected by the Lifestream?"
"Your constant companion—it returned to the planet? But you still bear the corruption. You feel it?" Bughe began hiccoughing through a drunken smile when Vincent's gaze turned to his at the mention of constant companion.
Nanaki assumed the elders referred to the tainted cells injected into Vincent many years ago and held the demon Chaos. The demon that had been awakened in Vincent and returned to the planet after it destroyed the Omega weapon. He recalled Vincent's physical transformations into Chaos during brutal battles. His friend struggled with controlling the demon before that final battle with Omega over the ruins of Midgar. It had only been a few years, but the image was still vivid.
"It can appear wherever the corrupt cells exist. They are like a conduit." Hargo surmised as he looked to Bughe. The two began to speak to each other again instead of Vincent. "But it doesn't absorb into the Lifestream."
"It is not that the Lifestream rejects corruption. On the contrary, it accumulates—hic—which triggers an end to the cycle when abundant—hic," Bughe hiccoughed as he struggled to contribute. His focus faltered for a moment, and he blew into his bottle, finding the whistling sound amusing. "Hmm, see—booze can talk."
"This corruption—remnants of it still cling to you. But not to your spirit, dear boy. It only resided in your body alongside your spirit." Hargo said with a wave of his hand as if to imply the body was not important.
"Like dormant cells!" Bughe shouted and lifted the nearly empty bottle into the air. Vincent turned his head away from the two, and Nanaki worried for him, finding the mention of remnant unwelcome.
"Your spirit may have been trapped by the demon, but it's released you. Yes, your body trapped it for a time as well. A human body must have seemed like an odd shelter. I imagine it resented the confines and struggled for freedom." Nanaki glanced at Vincent for his reactions, but he appeared to no longer be listening. "Hmm," Hargo continued. "Have you tried to call it back?"
"I wonder if it would answer—hic—hic. Would you call your time together pleasant?" Bughe chuckled at himself, oblivious to Vincent's stony glare.
"A spirit wants a place to reside and will remain with its body if it is alive. But who's to say a spirit won't reject a living body? It can become lost."
"Yes, yes, or even accidentally pulled by the Lifestream. Hahaha! Be careful not to—hic—fall into a pool! It will suck the spirit right out!" Bughe cackled and hiccoughed uncontrollably before taking a deep breath.
"Have you tried this?" Hargo asked with concern. "You wouldn't be the first to leap into the Lifestream, but I imagine a spirit could easily become confused at this sort of death."
"My booze is a con—hic—fused spirit." Bughe held the bottle toward Vincent.
Vincent continued to ignore Bughe's self-amused antics. "So—people who fall in with a corruption in their body," he asked, looking at Hargo. "What happens to them?"
"Why do you ask this?" Hargo asked him curiously. "If not for yourself?"
"ShinRa archives. Research they were conducting. Scientists injected victims with tainted Lifestream." Vincent's disgust was apparent as he revealed his discovery. "Their bodies aged quickly, some so fast they were like the walking dead. Tossed a few of the bodies into the exposed Lifestream to see what would happen."
"And what became of them?" Nanaki asked, looking from Vincent to Hargo.
"Unknown." Vincent shrugged and shook his head.
"The only thing that could have happened was they joined with the Lifestream. The river would have latched on to their spirits. That's what it does with spirit energy." Hargo offered.
"Yes, but as an added corruption," Bughe pointed to Hargo and nodded.
"It's believed that confused spirits can linger in the Lifestream and become corrupted. But, to fall in with corruption already clinging—well—" Elder Hargo slowly shrugged as if reluctant to further contemplate aloud.
Vincent stood suddenly and thanked them for the fireside chat. "I think I'll go now," he said as he began to descend the stairs. Nanaki quickly followed him as the elders continued their deliberation by the fire.
They stopped on the stairs, and Nanaki looked up to Vincent, hoping to see any hint of his thoughts. But Vincent's face wore its usual apathetic expression. "Were they helpful?" Nanaki wondered aloud. "They had much to say, although you asked few questions."
"Sometimes it's better to let people start talking. Might learn things you didn't know or didn't know you wanted to know," Vincent smiled down at him. "A strategy I learned as a Turk—in my previous life."
"They talked broadly about the Lifestream," Nanaki pointed out.
"True, but I wanted to hear about the corruption. That's what I came here to ask about," Vincent clarified as they continued their descent down the staircase.
"Did you get your answer?" He asked as Vincent slowed near the bonfire in the main section of town. Bughe had seemed useless, and Nanaki wasn't sure Vincent learned anything to help himself.
"I'm not sure," Vincent replied, watching the young women and men dance in a drunken trance around the bonfire. "But it was part of the research a scientist was working in Nibelheim. It wasn't a priority for them, so it was never fully investigated."
Nanaki felt alarmed at all they had heard and why Vincent would be wondering about these topics. He surmised that Vincent had begun to consider the many long years they would endure after the passing of their friends. The upcoming loss seemed like it would be unbearable. But was Vincent considering death?
As if sensing Nanaki's worry, Vincent turned to face him. "Don't worry. It has nothing to do with me," he said with a hint of a smile. "The Chaos gene was something entirely different. Besides," he added and turned from Nanaki, walking away from the bonfire. "Not the suicide type."
"But you're considering death," Nanaki's worry was evident in his voice as he followed close behind Vincent. He recalled the catatonic state Cloud languished following his tumble into the Lifestream. He thought of Sephiroth. His body soaked in the Lifestream for five years before he awakened and nearly destroyed the planet. Neither had been absorbed like other living creatures on Gaia. The elders did not offer concrete answers as that was their way. They study, research, and discuss. Each must find his own answer. There was no one to ask. The ones who knew were already gone, and he couldn't speak to the dead.
"I'm considering life," Vincent clarified. "Better to be part of it than stuck on the outside for an eternity—Or relative eternity," he added with a smile.
"So, you do want to live?" Nanaki asked to assure himself.
"Told you not to worry," Vincent said irritably as he walked toward the pub.
He ordered a glass of whiskey, claiming a barstool in a corner at the Starlet Pub. Nanaki stood outside the entrance, watching revelers get carried away in the music. The creature seemed to have less anxiety about his long life than he had a couple of years before when Nanaki had confessed to Vincent his concern about outliving their friends. Perhaps the beast had grown to accept that he would say goodbye to everyone and continue to live for centuries, same as Vincent.
The looming solitude had begun to sadden Vincent the more it crossed his mind. Things had settled down. Fewer distractions meant time for brooding. Everyone else was moving on, creating a life out of the ruins. No time left for them to wait around for something to happen; their lives were so short. Vincent had already begun to feel trapped in time with nothing to do.
He hadn't intended to worry his furry friend. Vincent had no intention to end his life. His curiosity started with discovering a volume of ShinRa research detailing the results of injecting tainted Lifestream into living specimens—a series of documented failures.
Vincent's mouth lifted in a smug smile. He was a failure. Cloud, too.
He swallowed his whiskey and ordered another. A pair of young women squeezed past Nanaki at the door and giggled their way to the bar, taking up seats to his left. They scanned the tables and whispered to each other as they stared at a group of young men playing cards. One noticed and patted the seat next to him in invitation. The girls gave each other a quick grin, joining the game and claiming ignorance at the rules with batting eyelashes.
Vincent rolled his eyes behind half-closed lids. He found the bar pick-up routine repulsive.
Tifa must be weary of drunken patrons who hoped to get lucky with an attractive bartender. They probably bought drinks for her with each shot ordered. She'd be too polite to decline. She probably watered it down or swapped it with tea. He downed the whiskey in his glass as he realized he was thinking of her again. This may be a problem.
The card game ended, and one of the young ladies rose from the table to leave, with a man following close behind. As she left the pub, she shot an apologetic glance at her friend, who was emphatically refusing attention from the male at her side. Vincent heard a pathetic 'Aww, come on—'. She vigorously shook her head and returned to the bar. The young man watched her walk away with indifference, shrugged, and left alone.
After ordering a fruity cocktail, the young lady eyed Vincent as though considering his worth. She rolled a shoulder forward and stared at Vincent through lowered lids. She scooted her barstool closer to him and placed her chin in her hand.
"Can I buy you a drink?" She bit her lower lip, leaning closer to him and twirling a lock of hair on her finger.
He had always been a little slow on the uptake with these ploys of seduction. Vincent knew it to be a helpful tool, particularly for some of his less inhibited colleagues from his days as a Turk. He hadn't been part of that game since his fateful assignment in Nibelheim. He laughed at himself internally, thinking this could be the start of his new life. Take his advice to Tifa and learn to move on with a random hookup and a night that wouldn't matter to him.
"Whiskey."
She smiled and nodded to the bartender as he set her cocktail on the counter. "For the gentleman?" She inclined her head toward Vincent and laid her gil on the bar.
Vincent wondered how one so young appeared so comfortable with this kind of exchange. It wasn't that he was innocent or hadn't lived as a young man in a big city once, but his interactions with women never seemed natural. He was more naive than he'd like to admit.
He accepted the whiskey with a nod and sipped the drink as she began to talk. How did I get into this situation? Her life in Corel bores her, so she and a friend get away as often as they can. Must be drunk accepting drinks from unknown women like some horny frat brat. Her ex-boyfriend is a truck driver and gone all the time. What am I supposed to say? Deciding to visit the canyon for the feast was her friend's idea. Should I sit here—nod—drink? That's what friends are for, right? Tifa would find it hysterical if she knew. Her friend wanted a quick pick-up, no strings attached. She must get this all the time from her customers. So, here she was, sitting at a bar next to a guy who wouldn't participate in the conversation.
"Oh—uh," he chuckled to himself and noticed Nanaki looking at him, likely wondering at this new development. It was rare that Vincent would talk to anyone he didn't know, especially a woman. "Sorry, lost in thought."
"You look like a deep thinker," she giggled and touched his arm. He recoiled in response, but she didn't seem to notice. "You seem sweet."
He snickered to himself, tucking his chin into his collar. "Not sure that's accurate," he said in a low, husky tone and cast her a courteous glance.
"Sweet and seductive with that voice," she whispered. "You—uh—wanna get out of here?" She tilted her head toward the exit.
That was quick. Vincent wasn't sure he had conveyed any interest, other than politely letting her drone on about her uninteresting life. He laid gil on the bar and stood as she did the same. She glanced over her shoulder and walked toward the exit, thinking he followed. At her retreat, he wondered if he should politely decline or simply walk away to avoid an awkward scene. He chose the latter and mounted the stairs to the inn. He continued past the hotel reception to the hallway leading to his room, relieved at the privacy. But, before he made it to his door, he felt a presence at his back and realized the girl had invited herself along.
"What are you doing?" He nearly snarled.
Taken aback at his tone, she stammered. "Oh—I thought." Her mouth pulled in a nervous smile.
"You thought wrong," he growled as a yellow hue flashed in his eyes. She jumped back in surprise, quickly fleeing through the hallway and down the stairs.
Vincent stepped into his room and looked at himself in the mirror near the door. Why scare her? She had reminded him a bit of Lucrecia. Talkative. Sweet. Pretty. Same flirtatious personality. He had never known how to respond appropriately.
He removed his cape and sat on the bed, shucking off each boot with the opposite foot. He placed his guns and gauntlet on the nightstand and laid back into the pillows. Hopefully, sleep will take him soon. Must be closing time for Tifa.
Nanaki waited in front of the pub the following day. Vincent was leaving, and Nanaki didn't know when his taciturn friend would return. Should he worry about the fireside chat? Let their companions know Vincent questioned life and death? Likely, Cloud would stay silent. Barret and Cid would think it was Vincent's business. Yuffie would plan a party or other intervention likely to annoy him. Tifa would worry and try to reason with him, telling Vincent how much everyone cares and needs him in their lives.
Vincent wouldn't like Nanaki's interference. Perhaps he should trust his assurance that his questioning had nothing to do with ending his life. Trust that he wanted to live again.
As the sun rose over the canyon, Vincent appeared through the doorway and smirked at Nanaki. "Afraid I would leave without a kiss?"
Vincent chuckled when Nanaki turned his head downward in confusion.
"What do you mean?" Nanaki knew Vincent wasn't affectionate. He had never witnessed Vincent so much as hug anyone.
"Hahaha!" Vincent walked past him as he laughed, sidestepping and descending the stairs toward the city gate so quickly Nanaki had to run to catch up.
"Gullible as always," Vincent said, briefly glancing back at Nanaki.
"Where will you go now?" Nanaki hoped he concealed his worry but couldn't deny his anxiety over Vincent's departure.
"Look for something to do. Find a normal life, maybe.," he replied, looking back at Cosmo Canyon and its buildings nestled into the mountainside. "Thing is, I wonder if I can."
Nanaki felt relieved at the answer. "You'll never know if you don't try." He hoped Vincent could easily slip into the daily routines of a bustling city. Nanaki glanced at his friend, noticed a smile had spread across his face.
"What are you thinking that has you smiling in such a way?"
"It's the thought of a normal life again," Vincent replied. "I received an invitation to dinner. Think I'll start with that." Vincent smirked again, patted Nanaki on the head, and sprang into the canyon to begin his journey.