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Chapter XVIII – The Best Medicine

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Dawn broke over the horizon of Junon, the sky streaked with cotton candy clouds that were set alight by a deep amaranth. A lone cargo ship sailed from the port, the first vessel to do so that morn. Waves lapped at its hull while the bow gently parted the water, the waking sun setting a reflection of soft pinks upon its surface. It was on this ship's deck that Vincent stood, his arms folded as he watched the city of Junon become smaller and smaller. However, it seemed no matter how far the ship sailed, huge billows of black smoke could still be seen rising high into the air from the shore.

A reminder of the previous night's inferno.

Spray hissed up the sides of the boat, carried by a crisp, yet gentle, breeze that swept at the tattered ends of the gunslinger's cloak. Vincent paid no heed however, too rapt in his own thoughts.

Despite the complications the WRO had regarding most of their Materia, they were finally able to combat last night's blaze due to quick thinking on Reeve's part. The leader of the World Regenesis Organisation had given quick orders to evacuate the area before instructing for the pressure of the city's water feature to be lowered. Lacking substantial power, the huge torrents of water that had arched over the apartment strip crashed down like a waterfall over the inferno, finally extinguishing all flames. It did not come without sacrifice however, as WRO efforts were then focused on dealing with the resulting water damage.

Throughout this, their party had been evacuated with the rest of the populous down to the fishing village below where many people remained in the street, straining their necks to look up at the billowing plumes of smoke that was the aftermath. It was then that their party decided to retire to the inn, however Tifa was retained by medics who insisted on overnight supervision. Barret responded with his own insistence of staying by her side, while Vincent, Red XIII and Cait Sith continued to the inn with Denzel and Marlene in tow after the tumultuous events of the night.

Yet despite sleep quickly gracing his comrades, sleep did not grace Vincent.

He was greatly troubled by his increasing lack of control, specifically his most recent lapse as a result of catching Tifa off-guard, and he had contemplated events long into the night. And here he was, still pondering into the early hours as he watched the rolling waves and pink shimmers dance across the surface of the sea.

He had joined in his comrades' quest to heal the planet by dispatching monsters, but it was more a guise for his own personal pursuit for answers.

And he had yet to draw a single one.

A small and weak cough to his right alerted him of Tifa's presence and he quelled his surprise, having been too deep in thought to have noticed her earlier. The fighter leaned with her arms crossed over the deck's metal railing while she looked out towards the horizon. The cold breeze teased her hair while her chest rose and fell rather quickly. Vincent could tell that she was having a little difficulty breathing. He turned towards her slightly.

"I'm... alright." Vincent blinked. Tifa simply gave him a mischievous look, her russet eyes glimmering in the pink dawn as she breathed out, "I could tell... what you were going to say."

The gunslinger tucked his chin into his cowl.

"... Do not exert yourself."

Tifa nodded when a strange expression fell over her features. Vincent turned to her in question and was about to speak when Tifa suddenly inhaled sharply, pain passing over her face before she gave a great and noisy sneeze.

Vincent just stared.

Rummaging in her front utility pocket with a grimace, Tifa pulled out the torn right corner piece of her duster. Shaking it out to rid of dirt from the previous night, she used it to gently wipe at her nose. Soot had peppered from her nostrils, a result and reminder of her literal trial by fire. Vincent had to suppress his amusement as Tifa turned back to him with soot smeared across her face.

"The medics warned... me of this," she managed between laboured breaths. "Soot fr-m the... fi..." The fighter began to cough as her voice started to break, pain flaring up her throat. Vincent quickly scoured the area behind him before motioning for her to follow, guiding her towards the middle of the ship. Finding a small deckhouse towards the stern, he lead the fighter inside and towards one of the benches. Tifa graced him with a small smile as she pocketed her torn duster piece and sat down, heat creeping back into her arms at the respite from the crisp sea wind. She attempted to speak, but the effort only caused her to break into another coughing fit. She didn't miss Vincent's brows furrowing slightly, his expression almost austere.

"Do not force your words. Silence can speak for you." Tifa raised an elegant brow in response while she blinked rapidly, eyes watering. The man reached inside his cloak and Tifa watched, curiosity piqued. However, the urge to rub at her eyes was too overwhelming and she quickly wiped away excess water from her lashes. When she pulled back her arm, her vision was met with a bright neon.

Vincent held out a Hi-Potion, waiting patiently for her to take the crystal green bottle as the fighter looked up in surprise. Tifa stared for a moment more before her stunned expression melted into one of mixed amusement and gratitude. She took the medicine from him, her fingers brushing lightly with his own. Carefully opening the bottle, she took a hesitant sip of the concoction. A second later and she was drinking with haste; she didn't realise just how thirsty she was. Vincent turned to look out of the circular window behind him, the pinkish light catching the flecks of gold in his eyes and setting them to burn.

Tifa swiftly drank the last drop of the rather astringent drink before nesting the empty bottle beside her. Swallowing, she found her throat pleasantly cooler and chary of forcing her voice, she spoke with gentle words, "You always seem to... have one of those handy. Thanks."

Vincent glanced over his shoulder before returning to look out of the window. "You should rest. It is still early." He changed the subject.

"Yeah, well..." Tifa stretched, arching her arms to join at her lower back. "I've had enough rest. Slept when we... first entered Junon and besides, those beds in the... WRO trucks aren't the most comfortable... just ask Barret." Vincent turned to face her, the fighter's occasional struggle for breath not going unnoticed. His eyes softened slightly.

"How are you, Tifa?" She responded to his sudden question with a blink.

"I already told you... I'm fine. Well, still wondering why... Barret insisted on taking the... first ship out of Junon. Everyone's still exhausted from... last night."

"... That's not what I meant." Tifa's brow knitted at his cryptic words but when Vincent's eyes came to rest upon her upper left shoulder, she suddenly understood. Quickly raising her hand she covered the already hidden scar further as if it would deter his gaze.

'I should have known,' Tifa thought. 'When most people ask, 'how are you,' it's just a greeting. But when Vincent asks, it's in the truest sense of the question.' She looked over the gunslinger's shoulder and out of the window he seemed so absorbed in before, avoiding his piercing red eyes as she considered her wound from years past.

'How do I tell him? Especially after Cloud- ...' Tifa couldn't finish her own thought; she fell silent.

Vincent observed her carefully. A cumbersome presence that towed rime across his skull joined the anguished words spoken through sutured, dead lips.

'An-nother wou-nnd fes-terrs.'

His eyes hardened in response to Death Gigas' words. Pushing the hulking creature back towards the recesses of his mind, the gunslinger was about to turn back to the window when suddenly the demon shifted; violent and wild, the monster slammed against Vincent's mental resistance which caused him to physically lash his head to the side. His claw jerked to his face, the talons twitching like the crooked legs of an insect.

'Igg-nor-rance bea-rrs a hea-vvy toll, an-nd the wi-ise muss-t pay it.'

Only then did the abomination recede, all anger and resistance absent as was its presence. Vincent took a steady breath through his nose and swiftly drew his claw within the confines of his cloak. He was vaguely aware of Tifa now standing but not even her rigid call pulled him from the depths of his thoughts. He turned back to the window with a stiff turn just as two sets of guffawing floated on the sound of swelling waters.

"The sea's most favourable, she is! We'll be tiding up to Costa del Sol in no time!" The voice held a gravelled tone like that of a seasoned sailor.

"Good 'nough fer me. After last night, I need a drink!" Barret's signature boom was almost as loud as the crashing waves.

"The night matters not, matey, any time's a good time for drinking!" Another round of boisterous laughter drifted along with the silvery backwash of the ship before the captain headed port side while Barret finally trudged into the deckhouse, pretending not to have stumbled at a particularly steep rock of the vessel. Tifa finally ripped her concerned eyes from Vincent's back to look at her old friend and blinked at the bowl of soup cupped in his left hand.

"Whaddid I tell ya 'bout wanderin', girl?" Before Tifa could say anything, Barret thrust the wooden tableware into her hands. "Cap'n made this jus' for ya on his own lil' stove. Better get something good down ya." Tifa reluctantly sat back down and carefully balanced the bowl in her lap, casting a glance over the contents of creamy seafood chowder before attempting to address Barret again. This time she was interrupted by the man shrugging off his puffy white vest and placing the garment around her shoulders.

"You should wrap up warmer, real chilly out there. Early mornin' an' all that-"

"Barret." Tifa finally managed, her voice a firm cadence. This caught the gun-armed man's attention. She made to nod towards Vincent but was stunned to find that he seemed to have vanished into thin air.

"He stepped out while you were fussin' with yer bowl. Go on, it ain't gonna eat itself." Tifa couldn't help but shake her head, secretly squashing her concern for the crimson caped man though it didn't last long; the feeling was obstinate. She fiddled with the wooden spoon dug deep in her soup. A giant but gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. "You need ta stop worryin', Tif'. After last night, let us do the worryin' for ya." Tifa paused in her idle toying, suddenly remembering a strange incident.

"Barret," she began, her voice elsewhere as her mind focused on recalling the memory. "When I woke up in Junon inn... it was the strangest thing. The clock there was ticking... but the hands weren't moving. Even the pendulum... was still swinging..."

A deep throated chuckle brought her back from her recollection and suddenly feeling self-concious of her recount, Tifa elbowed Barret in the side. This just served to make her old friend break into a belly laugh as deep as the surrounding water.

"H-hey," Barret finally managed to breathe, wiping tears from his eyes. "Ya know, tha's jes' tha' same thang I noticed, too." Tifa straightened up and turned to her friend while he leaned back with a huge grin on his face. "I went ta check up on ya yesterday but you were sound asleep, so I pulled up a chair an' waited for the innkeeper wit' Marlene. Noticed the clock while I was waitin' and she kept going," here, Barret put on a mock high voice, "'Daddy! Tha' place is haunted! There's a ghost in tha' clock!'"

Tifa burst into wheezy laughter at Barret's impression, and the man himself had to fight off chuckles as he continued.

"S-So here's me tryin' ta tell 'er that there's no ghosts, when this creepy noise starts comin' from it. 'Whoo-OOO-ooo!'" Barret raised his trunk-like arms and waved them while imitating the sound, making Tifa hold her sides. "Marlene runs out all frightened, and stupid ass Cait Sith comes out from behind tha' clock shouting after 'er sayin' it's jes' him. Damn cat must'a snuck in behind us!"

Tifa was now doubled over in laughter. Barret paused to laugh himself, the deep sound quivering through the bench they were both sitting on. "W-When the innkeeper finally came back, I let 'er know 'bout ya an' that we were staying later. When I asked her 'bout tha stupid clock, she tells me the washer behind the hands is stuck and she hasn't got round ta gettin' it fixed yet!" Barret's could barely hold his amusement, his mountainous shoulders quaking. "S-Stupid damn thing got Marlene so spooked she clung onta Red for the rest of tha' evenin'!"

Both Tifa and Barret erupted in laughter, Barret's a boisterous bellow while Tifa's became a wheezy chortle from the strain. As the fighter spluttered for air she fell heavily against Barret's side just as a strong wave tipped the ship.

"WHOOOAAA!" The deck listed and Barret toppled along with it, sending both fighter and ex-AVALANCHE leader rolling straight out of the deckhouse. Vincent, who had been standing outside, turned his head slightly at the sudden commotion to catch the pair tumble helplessly onto deck. Barret was sprawled out in an unceremonious display while Tifa lay limp next to him, her friend's puffy jacket cocooned around her face and shoulders. Barret was the first to recover, sitting up with a bolt when he caught sight of the woman shaking next to him.

"Tif'! You okay, girl?!" Barret quickly grabbed the end of his jacket and tugged the garment away from her face, expecting the worst. What met him was something he was completely unprepared for.

Tifa was in silent hysterics.

Clutching her abdomen, she shook with laughter under a soft pink sky while the ship seemed to rock along with her merriment. Vincent stared for a moment longer, and after ensuring she was unharmed, turned his attention back to other matters. Barret couldn't help but grin mightily at the sight, beginning to chuckle himself. Despite Tifa being unable to actually laugh, her wheezy imitation was infectious nonetheless.

'Haven't seen Tif' laugh like this in ferever. Guess laughter IS the best medicine.'

"Whit's up with you two? You'd think ya'd been up drinkin' bevvys intae the wee hoors!" Barret turned to find Cait Sith trotting up to them, the sea breeze teasing his whiskers and little red cape.

"We ain't been drinkin'," Barret said as he began to gently help Tifa to her feet. "Yet..." he muttered under his breath as he shrugged back into his vest. The cat puppet shot him a feline grin that told the huge man he'd heard. Tifa took a few deep breaths, finally recovering from her laughing bout. She motioned to Barret and after taking his nod as understanding, moved back towards the deckhouse. Barret watched her leave before turning his attention back to Cait Sith. "How're tha' kids?"

"They be fine, still snoozin' next tae Red and oor bags in tha' captain's cabin. Still beat after ye decided tae get the early boat." Barret nodded, ignoring the cat's minor jibe and instead roughly scratching at his growing stubble.

"We have a survivor." Barret looked back on hearing Tifa's breathless voice and his jaw hung slack at the bowl of slightly spilled seafood chowder in her hands. "Empty Potion bottle... got caught between the gaps... of the bench," she explained with a hint of a smile. "Stopped it from tipping over."

"... Right," Barret brushed off, still trying to remember when she had set the bowl down in the first place. "Well, go an' eat it before ya spill anymore of it."

"I didn't spill it... you did." Tifa stirred the remaining soup with her wooden spoon and began to eat the comfortably warm dish while she watched Barret become vexed.

"Awright! First gettin' tha early boat and now a bowl of damn soup! Anything ELSE people wanna blame me fer!?"

"Barret." Vincent's cool intonation turned not only Barret's, but all heads towards him. The gunslinger stood with his eyes dangerously narrowed towards starboard. "Access to the lower decks is restricted by captain's orders, correct?"

"Yeah," Barret said as he trudged over to Vincent's side. "One a tha' conditions fer us being on this ship. Had ta stay top deck or in the captain's cabin round to tha' left." Barret huffed through his nose while his eyes narrowed at the gunslinger. "Why?"

Vincent tucked his chin into his cowl as he straightened, his hand coming to rest on the grip of his revolver; his eyes not once moving. Barret turned to where his gaze was fixated.

The sight made the gun-armed man stiffen.

Two men were busy carrying a large crate between them, slowly shuffling down metal stairs to what no doubt lead to the ship's cargo hold. The act itself was not what caused alarm, but rather, their uniform. Armour of blood red, their helmets bore three, hard-set circular lenses set deep within their steel plating. On their upper left arm, a badge of familiar insignia. A notorious set of characters set within a red and white diamond logo, however it had a black image of what appeared to be a meteor painted over the top.

"No f***in' way. Hell no. HELL NO." Barret's arm whirred loudly as it changed into his signature gatling gun and he held Myrna close as his lips curled into a snarl. "Shinra are DEAD!"

"Keep yer voice doon!" Cait Sith snapped as he hopped to Barret's side, Tifa quickly following suit. "Nae use lettin' them know we've caught on tae them!"

"I don't... it can't be..." Tifa narrowed her eyes at the two infantrymen, as if they were both just an illusion and that they would disappear on closer inspection. "The logo's slightly different... but I'd recognise it anywhere. I can't really believe it... but it's definitely Shinra." The fighter set down her half-eaten bowl and nudged it away with her foot before raising her fists and balling them so tight that their leather coverings crunched loudly.

"Noo let's keep a level head aboot all this," Cait Sith said as he patted the air with both white gloved hands. "It looks like Shinra alright, but we shouldn't go runnin' in. All heck would break loose!"

"Agreed." Vincent swiftly removed his hand from the triple-barrelled revolver at his hip. "I will assess the situation. I suggest you all remain here until I return with information. Also let Nanaki know of their presence."

Barret gave Vincent a stern look and stared hard at the man before finally saying, "... Alright. I don't like it, but I ain't no fool. Jes' don't make me have ta save yer ass later." Vincent nodded and began to walk away as Barret shifted his gun back into a prosthetic hand.

"Now hold on a minute," Tifa swiftly stepped in front of Vincent's path, effectively bringing the gunslinger to a halt. "You're not going alone... I'm going with you." Vincent regarded Tifa with careful appraise, taking special note of the way her chest heaved as she fought to draw breath.

"Tifa, you are in no fit condition." The fighter narrowed her eyes at this and straightened up, the pink rays of dawn setting a shimmer of fire to her russet eyes.

"I could say the same thing... about you." Vincent remained silent. The two of them continued to stare at each other while Barret and Cait Sith just watched, not quite understanding the rather strange exchange.

"Well noo," Cait Sith said, first to break the tense atmosphere, "there's only one thing tae it then!" The robot hopped up onto the ship's railing with cat-like grace before jumping up and swinging himself onto Vincent's shoulder. "I'll jes' have to join Vinnie here instead, won't I?" Vincent snapped his head towards the small puppet and blinked in surprise at the small cat now sharing his shoulder.

The crimson caped man narrowed his red eyes slightly, almost grumbling out, "That will not be necessary, Cait Sith."

"Well yer stuck wit' me, like it or not! It's the only thing that'll keep this young missy here from worryin'!" Vincent glanced over to Tifa at the cat's gesture and Tifa turned away with her arms crossed.

"Listen Tifa," Barret began, a rare fatherly tone. "We all gotta watch each other's backs. I ain't gonna be responsible fer more people gettin' hurt. As much as I hate tha' Shinra..." Here, Barret grit his teeth. "Cait Sith's right. We gotta play this all careful like. So I'd prefer it if you sat this one out." Tifa remained quiet, staring distantly at the two Shinra infantrymen disappearing down the steel steps leading towards the cargo hold.

"Yeowza!" Cait Sith suddenly cried out, "That's a mighty fine bruise ya got thair, Vinnie! Where'd ya get that from?!" Barret and Tifa both turned their attention towards the gunslinger who was now staring hard at the small cat perched on his right, the small puppet quickly drawing back from peering down the man's cowl. Vincent remained silent and glanced towards Tifa, who was struck with realisation and looked away in slight embarrassment; they both knew where the bruise had come from, but neither were willing to tell.

"... Anyway," Barret began, deciding to ignore the subject given Vincent's response – or lack thereof. "Let's leave it to them ta get more info, Tif', an' then we can go kick some ass. But right now, how 'bout ya come with me so we can go get Red?"

"Fine." The snippy response was followed by the fighter spinning on her heel and marching towards the captain's cabin. Barret scratched the back of his trunk-like neck as he watched her go.

"Well, shit. Pissed her off now. Hope y'all happy, 'cuz now I gotta go deal with it." The hulk of a man bent down and scooped up the half-eaten bowl of soup that Tifa had placed on the floor. "Hard enough gettin' that gal' to eat anything as it is..." he grumbled to himself. Straightening up, he jabbed his index finger towards Vincent and Cait Sith. "I give ya both fifteen minutes. You better be back by then, or I'll personally kick both yer asses."

"Done," Vincent replied before briskly striding towards the cargo hold, Cait Sith clinging to the man's shoulder while saying, "I dinnae remember ye bein' soo tall!" Barret raised a bushy brow as he watched the odd duo go, taking slight amusement in the way the cat's tail curled around the top of Vincent's back. Once they were out of earshot, Barret couldn't help but think out loud.

"... A bruise, huh?"

He stood for a moment in thought before beginning in the direction the fighter was last seen. It didn't take long for Barret to track down Tifa. The young woman stood outside of the captain's cabin, taking a keen interest in the soft pink horizon rather than Barret's presence. The gun-armed man sighed heavily as he swept a hand over his cornrow styled hair.

"They're still sleeping." Barret was almost given a start by her sudden voice. He nodded and held out the bowl of almost forgotten seafood chowder towards her. A moment passed before she took it without a word, continuing to look out at the horizon as the sea lapped up the boat sides. The sound of rolling waves and the rustle of Tifa's duster the only sound shared between them.

Some time passed before Barret sighed, "Look, don't be blamin' me. I ain't exactly happy 'bout it either-"

"It's not that, Barret." She turned to her old friend with a slightly knitted brow. Barret raised his own brow in question, but the fighter turned away again to stare out at the sea.

'How do I tell him about Vincent?' she thought. The man's behaviour greatly concerned her, especially earlier back in the deckhouse. She knew that pushing him with questions would only make him withdraw further into his infamously aloof shell, and that addressing Barret with such concerns would most likely cause a commotion. One that she was sure not only herself, but Vincent would also like to avoid.

"Well," Barret began, "whatever it is, you know you can talk to me 'bout it, yeah?"

"... Yeah." Tifa took in a deep breath, forcing air into her lungs though painful as it was in her current condition. She swallowed against the irritation in her throat, still feeling the effects of being exposed to smoke. "... Thanks."

"For what?" Barret rubbed his nose with a steely prosthetic index. "I'm pissed too fer not bein' able to lay the smackdown on those braindead, candy ass Shinra... &^#$!" Barret stomped his foot heavily into the deck, causing the floor to vibrate so much even Tifa could feel it. "They've bin' dead fer three years, so how the HELL we just saw some of their stupid ass mooks, I don't even-!"

"Barret." She tried to hide her smirk at watching her old friend become worked up. It brought her back to fond memories of times past. The man turned to her and began to calm down, recognising the look she shot him. "I'm worried... about it too. But... you're right. I'm sure Vincent and Cait Sith... will find out more for us... to go on."

"They betta. I'm gonna call Reeve when they git back an' tell him I'm opening up a can of whoop ass!" Tifa grinned at this.

"Tell him... I'm going to open one too." Barret gave a hearty laugh, landing a huge hand on Tifa's shoulder.

"You bet. That's if them two get back in one piece, if ya know what I mean. Vince didn't exactly look too happy 'bout Cait Sith joinin' him." Barret grinned at the implication, as did Tifa, but her grin quickly fell when she was bitterly reminded of Vincent's increasingly strange demeanour. Barret looked at her in concern as she looked away to stare at the contents of her bowl.

"Hey, I didn't mean nothin' by it..."

"It's alright, Barret." The man in question didn't look entirely convinced. He sighed through his nose, turning towards the sea and placing his huge hands onto the railing as he leaned against it.

"... Tell yer what." Barret's serious tone immediately caught Tifa's attention. "If you start eatin' more of that soup, I'll tell ya why I got tha' early boat out of Junon." Tifa's brow furrowed at him in question, but this time it was Barret who continued to stare out towards the horizon. Deciding to go along with Barret's suggestion, she slowly picked up the wooden spoon and dug it into the chowder, beginning to eat. Despite it being significantly cooler, it was still pleasantly tasty. Barret glanced over to her before nodding and returning his gaze to pink waters.

"Well, rememba' the man we first met when enterin' Junon? Told us 'bout tha' new constructions and stuff?" Tifa nodded. "Well, when you went to tha' inn, me and him got talkin'. Turns out it was Priscilla's father." Tifa blinked, stunned.

"Priscilla?" Tifa quickly recalled the name, remembering the young girl who had almost drown when they first entered Junon three years ago. Cloud had performed CPR on her and saved her life. Tifa felt a stab at recalling her childhood friend, but she quickly pushed it aside. "I remember. The girl... with the dolphin." Barret chuckled.

"Yeah, called 'Mr. Dolphin.'" He shook his head. "Anyway, while y'all got bored an' wandered off, or went ta sleep in yer case, he started tellin' me how she left Junon jes' a few days ago. Pursuin' her dream of bein' an actress." Tifa nodded, unable to see where Barret was going with this, but remaining patient nevertheless. "Now, bet yer wonderin' why I'm tellin' ya this."

"... You could say that," Tifa replied as she put another spoonful of soup in her mouth.

"Well," Barret continued, "I told 'im 'bout us savin' her and he finally recognised us. Guess it has bin' a while. We got talkin'. Ya know, bout things... People." Tifa raised a brow at Barret's wording. "He mentioned something that Priscilla had seen jes' before she left. She swore she saw someone familiar." Barret finally turned to look at her.

"Spiky haired guy. On a motorbike."

Tifa stopped; her spoon left hovering halfway to her mouth.

"Now," Barret began hurriedly, "before ya ask me why I didn't tell ya, it's cause it ain't for definite. I didn't wanna build yer hopes up. So I didn't tell you, an' I didn't tell anyone else either." Barret watched the fighter carefully as she slowly placed the spoon back in the wooden bowl, staring distantly into it. "... I don't want ya gettin' hurt even more, Tif'."

"When."

"Huh?" Barret moved away from the railing and stood to full height, turning towards her.

"When did she see him?" Barret paused, looking up slightly.

"'Bout... three days ago. Like I say, she thinks she saw 'im. Dunno how long it's been now since he's bin'-"

"Week, four days," Tifa quickly replied. Barret frowned, staring hard at the fighter. He carefully reached out and took the bowl of soup from her, Tifa letting it go without resistance. He was pleased to find that she had eaten almost all of it. The fighter now moved her gaze to stare blankly at the horizon. The same position Barret had found her in.

He sighed. "... I'm gonna go wake up Red an' explain everything. If ya need me, I'll just be in here." He lay a hand on her shoulder and gave it a brief, gentle squeeze before Tifa listened to him trudge towards the cabin door behind her. It gave a slow creak as it slowly opened before clicking shut once more.

Tifa crossed her arms over the metal railing, feeling the cold seep into her skin. A refreshing contrast to the extreme heat she had felt from the night before. However, she didn't really take notice. Her mind was caught in a myriad of thoughts and her heart a whirlwind of emotions.

Despite the chaos of her mind, only one thought was predominant over all others as she stared out over the bright shimmers that danced across the sea. A cluster of clouds lit up by a soft amaranth slowly wandered past and she watched them idly drift by over a pink sun.

'Cloud...'