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Chapter XX – Rosa Blanca del Sol
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The promontory was the first thing that came into sight, proudly rising amidst the azure waters of the Western Continent. It was only when the air turned warm and the sea turned crystal that the small resort town nestled in the side of the peninsula became visible. Striped parasols of many colours lined the golden sand and, from the distance of their approach, appeared like a field of polythene flowers. Waves rolled merrily on the beach and beckoned their ship in with whispering surf; a siren of deep blue.
They had finally arrived at Costa del Sol.
Despite the havoc on deck from scrambled sailors ordered to search the cargo hold, spirits among the party were as high as the sun and as clear as the sea... as was Cait Sith's singing.
"Good moornin', good moornin'~ We've danced tha' whole night through~ Good moornin', good moornin' tae you~"
"Dayum, do you ever stop singing?!" Barret glared at the small puppet by his feet. "Every mornin' I swear..."
"It ain't my fault ye dinnae appreciate mah creative flair."
"Flair?!" Barret scoffed, "How bout I track down some Contain Materia an' cast tha' real Flare on yer ass!" Cait Sith responded by hopping back and whipping out his megaphone, Marvelous Cheer, before pointing it at the hulking giant.
"Ye cannae take me doon tha' easily, ya huge, bearded bull!"
"B-bull?! Com'ere ya scrawny lil' piece'a catnip!" Barret and Cait Sith's commotion added to the overall chaos on board the J.S. Blue Narciss, while chaos of a different breed blighted the mind of a certain gunslinger who stood by the ship's railings. A voice that promised abyssal torment assaulted him with an echoed accompaniment of slimy, contorted worms.
'I WILL END THEIR DISGUSTING EFFERVESCENCE.'
Vincent's claw was taken hold by a power beyond comprehension and golden, knifelike fingers slowly began to enclose around the metal railing they had been resting on. Alarmed, he fought back with all of his willpower. After a few seconds of futile struggling, Chaos finally relinquished his hold but not without leaving him a lingering mental image; a mouth bared with nothing but elongated, frightening canines. Vincent wrenched his claw from the railing and quickly drew the appendage within the confines of his cloak, staring blankly at the five narrow indentations now left behind in the half-crushed metal.
He quickly glanced behind him towards Barret and Cait Sith, finding the bickering duo none the wiser of his struggle only seconds before. Vincent closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, slightly tasting the briny air as he turned away from the railing. Warm currents of zephyr teased the tattered ends of his cape as surf lapped and curled up the ship's sides. While he was not normally one to agree with any of his demons, he found that this time he did agree somewhat with Chaos' words.
He found nothing to be jovial about, especially given recent events, and his teammates' unfounded enthusiasm and playful banter only served to annoy the gunslinger. And it would seem his demons as well, given the irritated twitching he felt through the talons of his left hand. He flexed the claw within his cloak, gravely aware that he'd not even felt a fraction of Chaos' true power. His mind wandered, and so did he as he moved towards the middle of the deck and away from the evidence of his decaying restraint.
'For how much longer will I hold control? No more can I ignore the fact that I am progressively worsening.' His thoughts turned to the cargo hold and the damage he had caused as a result of Death Gigas. Not only did the monstrosity effortlessly tear through reinforced steel, but he also indirectly endangered Cait Sith by alerting Shinra soldiers of their position.
And that was his greatest concern.
He knew it was only a matter of time before he endangered the others; not indirectly, but directly at that. He had already put Barret, Tifa and Nanaki in danger when Galian Beast sundered his psyche and fought the King Behemoth they had encountered outside of Kalm. Ironically, the beast had most likely saved them given the grim tide of battle before his forced appearance. But the demon was still a risk Vincent was unwilling to take.
As he watched more soldiers rush past, he overheard a snippet of urgent, hushed tones. "They dunno what the heck's down there, but some've been saying it's a monster!"
"What?! I ain't goin' down there! We ain't being paid to deal with that kinda stuff!" Regardless of the words exchanged between them, the trio of infantrymen hurried towards the cargo hold, their standard issue combat boots thundering past Vincent's own top boots of plated gold. The gunslinger watched them go with a dark, bitter sense of amusement: little did they know that they had just passed the monster they so desperately sought.
As Costa del Sol grew even bigger on the horizon, Vincent observed the final approach towards the resort town as he turned his mind to other matters. His decision to return to Nibelheim was not one to be taken lightly; he would require supplies, especially after handing his last remaining Potion to Tifa, and he made a mental note to locate the nearest vendor before seeking out the town's exit. The main problem, however, was that Vincent was not familiar with Costa del Sol. In fact, far from it.
Suddenly a voice chimed in his head, one that he hadn't heard in thirty-three years.
'You've never been to Costa del Sol?! You should go, you look like you could use some sun, Vincent.'
Vincent froze. Why? Why did he think about her now?
'… Lucrecia.'
Before he had a chance to be claimed by memories and past sin, laughter erupted from the ship's port side. Vincent turned towards the noise, as did Cait Sith and Barret, to find a flustered looking Tifa Lockhart marching out of the captain's cabin and making a direct beeline in their direction. The cat puppet and gun-armed man finally stopped their bickering, frozen with barely contained terror as they watched the angry fighter storm towards them. Vincent turned to Tifa as she took a moment to catch her breath, sensing that she was about to address him as well.
"Why didn't anyone tell me... I had soot on my face?!"
A fresh burst of laughter erupted from the cabin's doorway at Tifa's breathless exclamation; Nanaki, Denzel and Marlene absolutely succumbed with mirth. Vincent blinked and folded his arms, tucking his chin into his cowl. Barret attempted to hastily defend himself while Cait Sith hid his own laughter behind a gloved hand, though his shaking whiskers betrayed him. This only served to fluster the fighter further. Vincent recalled watching her smear black across her cheeks after she wiped her nose previously. He thought it of no importance to mention; he assumed Tifa had known, given she told him of being informed about her condition earlier by medics.
However, this certainly didn't seem to be the case as he now watched the fighter chase a sheepish Barret and hysteric Cait Sith about deck amidst the laughter of Nanaki and the children. After observing for a few moments, Vincent decided to make himself scarce before Chaos grew even more irritated, but not before secretly adding the small stab of guilt he felt for neglecting to inform Tifa to his never-ending list of regrets.
"""
~ o0o ~
"""
Voices hissed and spat vehemently in his head as he stepped out of the shadow of the ship's hangar and into the sun, his crimson eyes constricting painfully at the harsh light. Vincent physically recoiled at its unexpected strength, ducking his head away with a flinch as he paused mid-stride.
He had never known the sun to be this strong.
"You folk have a good journey now," the captain wished them as they stepped off the ship. "Sorry 'bout all the commotion earlier. Nothing to worry about, you 'ave my word." As he spoke, the now known Shinra infantrymen busied themselves with moving equipment from the ship's hangar come cargo hold, carefully preparing steel freight containers to be unloaded onto the harbour. Their whole job was a farce; Vincent knew the majority of the containers to be empty. The gunslinger watched with hard vigilance as they continued 'unloading' the docked ship.
"Yeah, thanks fer tha' ride on such short notice," Barret said with a nod, but the inflection of suspicion to his words was unmistakable. Gil exchanged hands before they were shaken and after general, (or from Barret's side rather sarcastic) pleasantries, their party finally left the ship, and Shinra SIN, behind. The children ran on ahead excitedly, tugging Cait Sith between them with the very picture of child-like jubilance. Tifa followed, trying to be discreet in rubbing black powder from her cheeks with a balled fist. She paused in thought and turned to look over her shoulder towards Barret and Vincent.
"Tell me... what you found later. I need to watch Denzel and Marlene... before they get lost." With that, she quickly followed after the party's two small charges as they ran off towards the direction of the beach. Breathless huffing from beside his leg made Vincent look down to find Nanaki panting noisily, the fire-dog's long tongue left to dangle from the side of his jaw.
"If you think the sun is bad, my friend, then try having fur." Vincent was secretly taken aback by the quadruped's words, unaware that Red had seen his reaction to the searing elements. He gave a single blink of his crimson eyes in response as Nanaki padded by, his fiery tail only adding to the sweltering heat.
A refreshing breeze lazily passed to the cawing of gulls overhead, and Barret and Vincent were left to stand alone at the harbour.
"Ya know," Barret began after a few seconds of near awkward silence, "this place hasn't changed all tha' much." He walked over to the side and gripped the quay's railings with both hefty hands, staring out towards the golden sand. "Water's a helluva lot more clear though. Before, you could just about see tha' bottom, but now it's like looking through crystal."
"... Hmph." Vincent crossed his arms. Frankly, he didn't care. He had more pressing matters to attend to rather than hear the discussion of Costa del Sol's climate. Despite his thoughts, he did wonder at the sudden shift of heat only moments before they reached the peninsula. The air had been relatively cool until then, and despite his better judgement he had retreated below deck to escape the blazing sun.
"Take it you ain't tha' sort to enjoy that kinda stuff," Barret commented with a flippant wave. "Well, betta' get used to it. Things change, however small. I learnt that tha' hard way." The man paused before muttering under his breath, "Turns out the same applies ta' lil' girls, too..."
Vincent narrowed his eyes slightly at Barret's words; there was a surprising amount of wisdom behind the man's rugged exterior. He walked over to join the ex-AVALANCHE leader, reaching inside his red mantle as he did so. Grasping what he was searching for, he pulled out the intended item and tossed it towards Barret. The gun-armed man snatched it mid-air with a burly fist.
"Reeve is still expecting a call from you."
"... Yeah?" Barret replied with surprising nonchalance, staring at his returned PHS in his palm. "Well, he's gonna have ta wait."
Vincent's brow knitted slightly. Barret's behaviour was unusual. He stared for a moment before asking, "Do you not wish for my report?"
It was here that Barret finally turned to look at Vincent, and it struck the gunslinger just how tired the man really was; his burnt umber eyes lacking their usual alertness.
"Ya know what? I think I've heard enough from Cait Sith. Between Marlene, tha' dumbass Shinra, you, and Tifa? ... I'm taking a break fer a few days." Barret pushed himself up from the railing, his left bicep flexing along with the flaming skull tattoo that inked it. "Now don't get me wrong, I'm still gonna hear ya out whether ya like it or not. You ain't gettin' away with shit on my watch."
Now there was the Barret that Vincent was more familiar to.
"But right now? I'm havin' me some downtime." Barret turned and trudged away, but not before speaking back over his shoulder. "I don't take you for a drinkin' man, Vincent. But whenever you're ready, I'll be in tha' bar."
The hulking man continued in the direction of the nearest beer, pocketing his PHS into his green cargo pants as he did so. As the gunslinger watched him leave, Vincent couldn't help but feel slightly perplexed at Barret's words. He easily understood the man's well-placed concerns towards Shinra, and especially towards himself. He had also overheard of Marlene's plight towards her father from Cait Sith.
But Tifa?
He turned towards the direction he last saw the fighter depart in. It was no secret that she hurt over Cloud's disappearance. Yet for Barret to voice his concerns so openly, Vincent felt that perhaps the situation was more serious than he initially thought. Barret and Tifa were very close, any member of their party could see that. So to ignore the gun-armed man's insinuation towards her emotional state, or perhaps even physical, was foolish at best. Vincent did not pretend to know Tifa well; after all, they had simply been comrades sharing a common goal during Meteorfall. But being as such required even a modicum of knowledge of the other. And Vincent knew well enough, even after three years of distance, that Tifa was a mistress of masks.
He crossed his arms in thought, causing intense rays of light to catch his gauntlet and reflect a blinding glare into his eyes. Stunned, he quickly lowered his arms again while blinking the sting from both red irises.
He was beginning to dislike the sun.
Spinning on his heel, he made his way in the direction he last saw Tifa while voices spat and howled in his head.
The resort town bustled with activity and Vincent found that he longed for a retreat to the countryside he had become so accustomed to roaming. Though he quickly lost his way amongst the numerous villas, it did not take long for him to locate the remainder of the party. Laughter rang out amid the distinctive yelps of Red XIII, and Vincent hurried his pace towards the sound. Approaching the coast, he finally caught visual of the woman he was searching for. Tifa perched on a small group of stone steps that lead on to the beach, leaning back with a small yet sympathetic smile as Denzel and Marlene laughed by her side. The two youngsters held on to wafer-thin ice cream cones, yet half of Marlene's chilled treat was missing.
On further inspection, Vincent found the absent portion to be on Nanaki's nose.
The fire-dog desperately pawed at his snout while stretching out his long pink tongue to reach the frozen cream that rested innocently on his muzzle. Marlene laughed harder at the sight while Denzel tried to hide his own mirth, but his chuckles radiated through his shoulders.
"Yae were tha' one complainin' of bein' tae hot! Is that now tae cald fer ya?" Cait Sith japed from Red's spiked mane.
"My nose is... more sensitive than yours! It feels like it's going to freeze!"
Vincent resisted shaking his head as he approached the group. Cait Sith was the first to notice him, the silly grin immediately falling from the feline's face at the sight. The cat puppet tucked himself further into Nanaki's mane as he drew closer. Tifa noticed this and looked over her shoulder to where Cait Sith's sight was trained. On spotting him her face fell into one of shock which she quickly covered up with a weak smile, but the emotion remained clear in her russet eyes. Vincent became instantly suspicious. Surely his arrival wasn't that unusual.
"Vincent! Glad you decided... to join us." At her exclamation, Nanaki, Denzel and Marlene all turned around. The fire-dog completely stopped his attempts in reaching the ice cream on his nose and stared in surprise at the gunman. Marlene also stared, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Denzel looked up at him with an awe that secretly took the gunslinger off-guard.
"Whoa," the boy finally managed to utter.
"Tifa, I wish to speak with you." Vincent wasted no time in addressing the fighter, choosing to instead ignore the others. His sudden request caught Tifa by surprise, and she blinked before rising to her feet. He was inwardly grateful that she seemed to understand the unspoken need for privacy.
"Alright, sure." She turned towards Red XIII. "Nanaki, would you mind...?"
"Not in the slightest, Tifa," the fire-dog nodded, now licking ice-cream from his paws, his nose finally free from the frozen confectionary. Cait Sith gave her a brief thumbs up, providing extra assurance that they would both look after the children. Justly reassured, she motioned to Vincent with a quick wave of her hand and began to lead them away to a more secluded location. The gunslinger followed suit with a curl of his crimson cape.
Moving away from the beach and the hustle and bustle of tourists, Tifa kept close to the cobblestoned promenade that looked out upon the crystal blue waters of Costa del Sol. The walkway was surprisingly empty, with the majority of crowds on the sand or in the heart of the resort town itself. As they walked, Tifa occasionally glanced towards him from the corner of her eye. Between that and the suffocating heat, Vincent felt his patience being truly tested. After the fourth inquisitive glance, he finally broke the tense silence with a curt snap.
"Is there a problem?" Tifa stopped walking and Vincent stopped with her. She gave a quick sweep of their surroundings and, ensuring the promenade was indeed empty, swiftly moved under the shade of a nearby palm tree planted next to a building. The gunslinger followed with piqued curiosity.
"Have you looked in a mirror?" The question caught Vincent by surprise, but the only outward indication he gave was a blink of his blood red eyes.
"I can't say that I have." He crossed his arms with care this time, thankful for the respite from the harsh sun and that it didn't reflect off his gauntlet like before.
Tifa hesitated before finally speaking. "Your eyes. They look like they're burning... in the sun."
Vincent's brow knitted ever so slightly. He now understood the reactions of his comrades when he approached them, though he did not see reason as to why Barret neglected to mention his 'condition' earlier. However, given the man's most recent behaviour, he felt that perhaps he should not be so surprised.
"I was not aware," he droned, looking over Tifa's shoulder and across the ocean. He cared little for his appearance; like any lost and time forgotten relic. The fighter appeared concerned and moved restlessly, as if she wanted to say something else. He turned his sharp red eyes back upon her, in which Tifa almost shuffled awkwardly on her feet before she decided to change the subject.
"So, how can I help?" It was here when she looked up at him that he found he was not the only one apparently affected by the sun. Strong light caught her eyes and he couldn't help but stare as they were turned a glimmering russet. He compared the sight to looking through a wine glass filled to the brim with deep Rosé. After a moment's pause, she shot him a rather puzzled look. He quickly averted his gaze.
"Barret appears to be acting in an unusual manner."
This snapped Tifa to attention, and Vincent only now oddly noticed that the black smear of soot had finally left her cheeks. "Barret?" she questioned. "He seemed fine when we... left the ship."
"Perhaps he was. Yet having spoken to him moments earlier, he no longer leaves that impression."
"... I'm not sure I understand, Vincent." Tifa tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as an unsettled countenance joined her struggled breaths. Concern bubbled within the gunslinger at the sight, though he promptly qwelled it.
"He would not hear of my findings despite making an earlier request to do so." 'Though I believe demand is a more appropriate term,' Vincent added mentally. "He advised that he would be, 'in the bar,' should I wish to seek his prescence at a later hour."
Of all of the reactions Vincent expected, he did not foresee Tifa looking relieved. "Oh, is that all?" she breathed out, her shoulders visibly relaxing along with her brow. "Barret sometimes does this. It's usually when he's... under a lot of pressure. He just needs... some time." She turned her head to look out from their sequestered refuge, no doubt towards where she knew her long time friend to be located. "Still, I'll go see him later... to check up on him."
Vincent tucked his chin into his cowl, making a half-nod. He did not question Tifa's judgement when it came to matters regarding the gun-armed ex-AVALANCHE leader. "Very well," he said, and began to cross the shade of the palm tree to retrace his steps back down the promenade.
"Hey, wait-!" Vincent paused mid-stride, cooly looking back over his shoulder. He did as she asked while Tifa hacked into her fist at the sudden outburst, her body still recovering from her dangerous dance with Junon flames. "Are you... going to tell me... what happened?"
The gunman studied her carefully before finally replying, "If you wish." So he returned to her side and began to explain about his and Cait Sith's encounter with the Shinra soldiers, informing her of the mostly empty freight containers while leaving out any particulars of his demonic relapse. Tifa raised her hand to her chin in thought, a troubled crease to her brow as she listened.
"Mako?!" she cried out once he'd finished. "Barret definitely needs to... know about this." She had already started briskly walking back towards the promenade, taking the same steps Vincent had only moments earlier. The gunslinger followed, inwardly surprised at Tifa's spry movement. He suppressed a flinch as he stepped out of the palm tree's shade and back into the unforgiving sun. Something in his skull snapped fiercely while another hissed loudly in agitation. "I'll find him now, Vincent," she spoke as he caught up and fell into step by her side. "But I still think... you'll need to speak to him... yourself."
Vincent remained silent. He knew Tifa to be right, but that didn't make the prospect of speaking with Barret any easier. The man was predictable in his temper, but less so in the actions that resulted. A breeze picked up across the parched cobblestones, and a torrid wind swept both Vincent's cape and Tifa's duster out behind them. Vincent clenched his jaw, the additional heat only adding to his discomfort. Tifa however almost choked as the zephyr caught the back of her throat. She stopped and began to hack into her hand, a coarse and painful cacophany. Vincent immediately reached into the folds of his cloak, only to grasp at... thin air. He silently admonished himself, forgetting that he had yet to acquire provisions.
"I-it's... o-kay," she managed between laboured breaths, knowing what he reached for. "I'll get a... dr-nk fr-m... bar." Vincent stared before he slowly lowered his hand, making a mental note to restock on supplies – specifically Potions.
"Do not push yourself," he said as he redirected his concerned gaze.
Tifa nodded, brushing water from her eyes. She gently massaged her throat with svelte fingers as she spoke, "I won't. But yo-u shou-ldn't... eith-er." She continued onwards and, after a slight pause from Vincent, so did he, both of them finally rejoining society by way of the promenade. Reaching the main area of the resort town, Tifa wasted no time in quickly crossing the centre square with hurried strides. The fighter was completely focused on locating Barret and sensing this, Vincent ceased following. She glanced behind her when she no longer heard his footsteps and gave a brief nod; an unspoken agreement that they would part ways.
"Can you manage?" His sudden question was answered with a simple smile and a wave of the fighter's hand as she walked on, her steps never faltering. Vincent continued to watch Tifa's back as she carried on her way, until eventually disappearing within the crowd of tourists. He stood in the middle of the plaza for a few moments, preoccupied with his concern towards Tifa's condition. Deciding to take her word, or rather her actions, that she could manage on her own, he pushed the matter to one side and began to seek out the nearest shop vendor. The square teemed with tourists and Vincent began to weave through the masses of people as the sun slowly climbed higher and higher as the day went on. With the slow inclining path of the sun, his demons became more restless with the growing torridity, and the gunslinger took to any available shade he could find in hopes of qwelling their irritation.
Thankfully, he found the vendor within a relatively short amount of time. Situated between Costa del Sol's inn and a line of villas, a rather rickety looking yellow van was parked next to a small wooden table lined with goods and souvenirs. A blue and white striped awning was attached to the top of the vehicle and hung over the displayed items to provide blessed shelter from the oppresive heat. It was then to the gunslinger's chagrin that he realised he had passed the vendor once before, not recognising the store due to its deceiving appearance.
"Well, hey there!" a rather plump man greeted as he approached. The storekeeper suddenly froze and seemed to pale slightly when Vincent swiftly moved into the shade of the overhang, but he quickly put on a genuine, albeit shaky, smile. "N-name's Butch. What can I do for ya?"
While accustomed to being regarded with fear or hostility, Vincent was not used to such a prominent reaction and his brow furrowed slightly at the man. Before he could contemplate further, he suddenly recalled Tifa's previous comment on his eyes. Choosing to ignore the shopkeep, he quickly picked out two Potions and a Hi-Potion from amid the miscellanea. After picking up a few other odd items, some after a moment of consideration, he reaching into his cloak and grabbed a handful of Gil. Dropping the required amount of coin onto the table, he glanced up sharply.
"Where may I find the exit?" The shopkeep, or Butch, was completely taken by surprise by the question and gave a hearty chuckle while pulling at his bushy brown mustache with thumb and forefinger.
"Heh. I'm used to tourists asking for directions, but never for the exit! It's over there by that really big villa, just pass under the bridge." Vincent looked in the direction Butch pointed and inclined his head in appreciation. Picking up his purchases and storing them within the folds of his cloak, the gunman briskly left the makeshift store and walked back out into the scorching sun. Moving through the throng of tourists, Vincent quickened his stride towards the exit. While he knew Barret wished to hear his account on events within the ship's cargo hold, he could no longer prolong his own personal search for answers. While he did not wish to abscond from the group in such a manner, he felt that it was his only option to avoid stirring up confrontation. With Tifa unknowingly relaying his report to Barret on his behalf, he felt that this would be his most opportune moment.
A quick flicker of red caught the corner of his eye and he paused mid-stride. Turning towards the brief glint, he found himself staring at a villa window which, at current length, held a faded image of his reflection. His brow furrowed slightly as he once more recalled Tifa's words. Staring hard, Vincent slowly stepped forward and closed the distance, his image becoming more solid with each step.
What he saw in the glass made him freeze.
Eyes ablaze with molten fire stared back at him, the severe sunlight causing them to glow a deep and bloody red. He hurriedly drew back from the pane while mocking laughter abound in his head. Spinning on his heel, Vincent briskly made for the bridge and the town's exit, his cape billowing behind him.
"""
~ o0o ~
"""
Tifa's fist connected with a dull crunch and the twelfth Beachplug fell to the ground, its sepia coral shell cracked under the force of her fists. Suddenly pivoting on one heel she threw out her foot as she spun around, delivering a brutal spinning hook kick into another of the beasts as it tried to sneak up behind her. She gasped for breath as the monster fell to the sand, its three blue tinted tentacles flailing wildly as it dropped.
'Thirteen,' Tifa counted in her head. Her chest heaved as she wiped perspiration from her brow, pain flaring in her lungs. She had been advised by medics back in Junon not to overexert herself, but she needed to let off steam. And Tifa knew of only one way to do so. Her leather gloves crunched loudly as she balled her fists tighter, her Premium Hearts voicing their willingness to fight. The mild smoke inhalation she suffered from greatly affected her stamina, though after three years of little fighting, Tifa wasn't sure what her own limits were anymore. The thought frustrated her more than her current condition, and she quickly began to search the coast outside of Costa del Sol for more creatures to beat up. In the distance she spotted another Beachplug and her mind wandered as she approached the creature.
She had located Barret back in Costa del Sol with relative ease. He was in the bar aptly named 'Bar del Sol', exactly like he told Vincent he would be. Yet when she approached him, she could tell he was in no mood for talking. In all the years she had known him, Barret would occasionally fall into one of these spells, so it didn't concern her too much. However, what did concern her was how little interest he showed in the Shinra activity Vincent had reported. She relayed the information briefly, to which Barret replied that Cait Sith had already informed him of the Mako shipments. After that, she decided not to pry the man further and instead left the resort town to deal with her own stress in a different way.
Just as she reached her next target, the Beachplug suddenly spun towards her and reared up, catching the fighter by surprise. In a split second, Tifa realised that the creature had known of her approach and lain in ambush. Just as she raised her fists in defence it struck, fixing its beady yellow eyes on her lithe form as it lashed out with an ice coated tentacle. The spindly limb hit her left forearm with little force, but the magic it held seared up her arm with a painful, frigid jolt. She grit her teeth in pain as she retaliated with a straight punch, knocking away the second and third tentacle that came her way before she brought up her knee and smashed it square in the face.
'Fourteen,' she finished, watching as the squid-like monster fell to the sand just as its brethren did before it. Pulling out the Cure Materia from the front pouch of her duster, she held it close to the frostbitten burn that crept up her left forearm with spiked fingers. The emerald bauble chimed and glimmered before dancing ribbons of light wrapped around her arm and began to close the small fissure-like cracks of ice in her skin. She sighed in relief and was about to pocket the Materia when suddenly the orb pulsated, sending a wave of glittering sparkles into the air and a tremor of power through her arm. Tifa looked at the green sphere in surprise before smiling, recognising the Materia to have grown stronger.
Returning the bauble to its resting place in her pocket, Tifa turned around and began to walk down the length of the coast, back towards Costa del Sol. She strolled slowly by the surf that lazed up the shore, taking time to regain the breath she had lost when a familiar red-clad figure caught her eye. Glancing up, Tifa's brows rose in surprise.
It was Vincent.
The gunman strode across the lush fields near the resort town, his cape trailing behind him in a billow of crimson. Given the distance, it seemed that he had yet to notice her and curiosity piqued, Tifa diverted from her path down the beach to make her way towards the gunslinger. Before she could ponder on her friend's unexpected appearance, she suddenly noticed a stray Beachplug creeping up behind the man as she approached.
"Vi-c-n... !" Her quick bark snatched the words in her throat and forced them out as a series of faint notes as she wheezed against the strain in her lungs. Pushing through her pain barrier, Tifa broke out into a sprint towards the crimson caped man. Just as Vincent abruptly spun around and whipped out his gun, Tifa leapt into the air and threw out her foot in a grand jump kick. The gunslinger blinked when the monster he had his gun muzzle trained on suddenly disappeared, Tifa Lockhart's foot suddenly flying into view. The fighter's chest heaved when she came to rest, bent over with hands on knees as she held her boot planted firmly over the fallen creature.
'… Fifteen.'
Vincent slowly lowered Cerberus with an incredulous air.
"Tifa?" he finally managed, fixing her with a stern gaze. "What are you doing here?" His question almost sounded admonishing and sensing this, Tifa straightened her back, turning to him while wiping sweat from her furrowed brow.
"I could ask you... the same thing," she managed to breathe out. The fighter watched him carefully as he turned away while holstering his gun with skilled efficiency.
'His eyes aren't glowing anymore,' Tifa noted. 'Guess it really was from the sun.' Despite her thoughts, she was still unsure. Nothing was ever straight forward when it came to Vincent Valentine. Even now she was trying to deduce why he was wandering outside of Costa del Sol, and she had a feeling that if she asked, she simply wouldn't get an answer. In the end, she figured it was best not asking. '… You really are a question to the world, aren't you, Vincent?'
"You should not wander alone in your current state." His sudden voice snapped the fighter from her thoughts and Tifa balled her fists tighter, a bubble of indignation swelling in her chest. She didn't need this right now. Between Barret and her strong, yet begrudgingly so, longing for Cloud, Tifa was in no mood to be reprimanded.
"I can look after myself, Vincent," she snapped, pointedly knocking her boot into the fallen Beachplug as it began to dissipate into sparkling wisps of green essence. Vincent gave her a hard stare and after a moment she sighed, annoyance melting from her features as she looked across the field and towards the ocean. She almost instantly regretted her sharp words; after all, Vincent only spoke out of concern.
"... I can see that," the gunslinger eventually replied, tucking his chin further into his cowl. A brisk yet pleasantly warm wind swept across the field and tickled the grass, brushing aside Tifa's chocolate coloured locks as it did with Vincent's ebony strands. The two stood in silence for a few moments before Tifa spun on her heel and began to walk back to Costa del Sol. When she realised Vincent didn't follow she paused, turning back towards him.
"Aren't you coming?" The gunman remained silent. Turning towards the mountains in the distance, Vincent almost seemed to hesitate before he began to walk away. Greatly puzzled, Tifa was about to ask where he was going when a thought suddenly occurred to her. Suppressing a grin, she called at his retreating back, "You said I shouldn't be... wandering alone... right?" Vincent came to a complete standstill. "Besides, you still need to... speak with Barret." With that, Tifa began to walk back to town. As she did, she kept an ear trained behind her.
When she could hear the grass behind her crunching under gold-plated boots, she could no longer keep the grin from her face.
"""
~ o0o ~
"""
It didn't take long for the pair to return to Costa del Sol and its sweltering heat, much to the gunslinger's chagrin. Their return was for the most part silent, both parties engrossed in their own thoughts. The sun beat down a merry welcome and as they walked, Tifa occasionally glanced over her shoulder to ensure that the gunslinger was still indeed following. Her mind was preoccupied with trying to figure out why Vincent was outside of Costa del Sol to begin with.
If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that he was about to leave.
She quickly shook the notion from her head, though the worry had already wormed its way inside her and gave way to insecurity; one that had manifested due to her childhood friend's disappearance. She knew Vincent had a tendency to wander, even during Meteorfall three years ago. It certainly wasn't uncommon and the man had never failed to return so far. Yet this time, something didn't feel right. And it was the same with Barret's current behaviour. Was it instinct, or even woman's intuition? She didn't know. However, what Tifa did know was that she was going to keep a close eye on the pair of them.
She held back a sigh as they passed under the sunbaked bridge that lead into the resort town, feeling at a loss. She couldn't very well force Vincent to speak with her old friend, especially when he was in no mood to even converse with her right now. As she tried to think on what to do, all she could think about was how much she could really use shower right about now. Suddenly, past advice that had once been forgotten rang out in her head.
'Here's the key to the villa, I got another one cut for you. Just in case you ever need to go somewhere, you'll always have a place here.'
Tifa stopped walking, realisation bringing her to a complete halt. Suddenly rummaging in the front pouch of her duster, she moved aside her set of keys for Seventh Heaven and her Restorative Materia, as well as her torn duster piece. Just as disappointment began to pool heavily in her chest, her fingers suddenly brushed with a piece of jagged metal. Quickly grasping it, she pulled out the long forgotten key that had rested at the bottom of her utility pouch.
"... Is something wrong, Tifa?" Vincent asked, coming to stand by her side. His eyes, once more a molten glare, settled on the lone golden key that Tifa held up in the sunlight. She looked over to him and blinked in surprise before returning her own gaze back to the glittering instrument.
"No, no. Everything's fine... I just... remembered something." Vincent gave her a long stare, his eyes slightly narrowed, but said no more on the matter. Tifa hesitated, uncertainty briefly crossing her features before she turned back to the gunman. "Vincent... do you mind coming with me?" The man in question blinked before tucking his chin into his cowl. After a few seconds of silence, Tifa was about to question him when he gave a curt nod. She returned the gesture with an added half smile before beginning to climb the stairs that lead up to the top of the bridge.
She preyed to whatever deity kind enough to listen that she was right. During the last days of Meteorfall, Cloud had returned to Costa del Sol and purchased the huge villa here named 'Shinra Villa' by the locals, due to the fact the building used to belong to Shinra's president. And Tifa figured that if Cloud really did take the ferry over to Costa del Sol about three days ago, then maybe he stopped by the villa and left some clues.
Or better yet, that he was still here.
She swallowed uneasily as she reached the top of the stairs, grateful that Vincent agreed to join her. As much as she hoped that Cloud really was still here, she was unsure how she would confront him after all this time. She had asked Vincent to join her for moral support more than anything else and though she felt guilty for not telling him this, she also felt her own admitted selfishness would not go down well with the gunslinger. She gripped the key tighter when she reached the front door situated just to the right of the bridge. She idly glanced at the plaque that hung outside, the cursive font reading, 'Villa Cloud.'
Breathing deeply, Tifa grabbed the golden key and pushed it into the lock. Turning the mechanism, the bolt shifted with a loud click and with baited breath, the fighter pushed open the door.
"L-look! I don't have a key and I know you kicked me out before, but my friend owns this place I swear!"
The two women, one on the bed and one by the door, stared at each other in surprise. Seconds passed like minutes before the words stuck in Tifa's throat finally became dislodged. They came out in one giant blurt of disbelief.
"Yuffie?!"
