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Chapter XXIV – High Anxiety

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Rolling hills, precipitous paths and steep inclines... It was times such as these where Nanaki was glad to be a quadruped. He recognised all too well that there were occasions in one's life where you just had to sit back and count your blessings. After all, he had no boots for stones to fall trapped in. No clothing to weigh him down nor cold wind able to breach the warmth of his fur coat.

But what he wasn't so grateful at the moment for, was his enhanced hearing.

"Whhhhhhy?!"

Yuffie's wail somehow rose above the mighty roar of the nearby waterfall and Nanaki had to flatten his ears from the lamentation.

The ninja's moans had been growing alongside the crash of falling water as the party had made their way up the winding narrow path that lead to this point. Now, they stood on a rather footworn wooden bridge that served as the only crossing between both Costa del Sol's and Corel's mountain range, all the while Yuffie desperately reached out her green smeared hands towards the clear water thundering down from a nearby mountain peak... to no avail.

"So... close...!" she strained out, kneeling precariously at the bridge's edge, "I... I can't go on like this..." The ninja finally admitted defeat by flopping onto her back with arms spread wide, staring up at the sun and the flecks of rainbow that danced across her eyes as light filtered through the makeshift lens of the waterfall's spray.

That was, until her vision was suddenly obscured by a curious, lone ochre coloured eye.

"Aaah! Dog breath!" Yuffie sprang upright and Red deigned to give a brief huff through his nose.

"You humans don't exactly have pleasant smelling breaths yourselves..." Water droplets began to latch onto his fur from the thundering falls and the fire-dog shook out his spiked mane, causing rainbow shimmers to scatter like small diamonds much to the horror of a recoiling Yuffie.

"AAAAH! Yeah, but at least we don't smell of wet dog!" she cried over raised arms.

A soft voice suddenly spoke up, "Well, you were trying to get some water anyway, weren't you?"

Nanaki turned around as Yuffie cautiously peered over her raised arms to find Tifa saunter over, her duster hanging rigid with hardened soil. Mud clung to her arms and legs like moss to a tree, thick and resilient.

"You look like you could use some yourself, but at least you aren't so vocal about it," Red dryly remarked, pointedly looking at the rambunctious ninja. Yuffie guffawed at the pair.

"Can you blame me? I mean, look at me!" She waved her arms up and down to emphasise her marker soaked skin. "I look like that big green comic book character! What's it? Bulk?"

Tifa simply shook her head, hiding her amusement behind a slightly upturned lip. After Yuffie had tried passing off a green coloured billiard ball as Materia, Tifa had no qualms about smearing the offending marker pen ink all over the ninja's face. When Yuffie attempted to rub it off with her hands earlier that day, the colour only spread like a contagion. "Well, I'm sure Denzel would know," Tifa continued to answer the teen's earlier question. "He loves reading comics." On mentioning the boy, Tifa turned around and looked past the chipped posts of the bridge in search of the orphan she knew to be trailing behind. His behaviour had been increasingly worrying the further they walked from Costa del Sol and the fighter figured she would give him some space rather than push him for now.

She knew Denzel to be more delicate than he let on and, if anything, it only served to remind her of Cloud. Pain stabbed in her gut and twisted like a knife at the recollection and rather than lingering on the remnants of a smile in her mind's eye, she quickly moved her gaze to look ahead instead. Red didn't miss the reaction given by the flick of his ear as it rotated towards her, but otherwise he gave nothing away. The small, sharp intake of breath the woman had gave had been near inaudible, but not to the fire-dog's ears.

'We all hide our pain, but for how much longer can you conceal yours, Tifa?' Nanaki fell into deep rumination regarding the fighter – knowing all too well that her namesake was not only apt for her physical skills in battle, but also for her emotional aptitude.

For Tifa was also a fighter of the heart.

But what made her so resilient? Was it a common trait amongst humans? In that case, would he himself be classed as resilient, too? Even knowing he was certainly far from being considered human? Red XIII wasn't sure - and not for the first time that day. More and more he caught himself contemplating his own nature since they'd begun their journey, and more and more he'd been yearning for an answer to his existential meditations. Yet if there was something he knew for definite at that moment, it was that Tifa was pushing herself.

He once more chose to paw at the dried streak of mud that had smeared across the top of his nose, the offending earth debilitating his sense of smell. "We have a long walk ahead of us," he began, sniffling through the aroma of soil. "Perhaps we should return to Costa del Sol to refreshen-"

"No." Tifa's curt response caused the lion-like dog's brow to shoot up in surprise and even Yuffie stopped half-way in rising to her feet. "We keep going."

Yuffie openly gaped. "But Tif'-"

"We keep going." Her words were final.

Red XIII peered at her carefully from behind a spike of mane that strayed loose from his mohawk. Yuffie's stance stiffened into one of a more serious nature, her back straight and expression unsettling in the solemnity rarely seen on the ninja's face.

The air around them grew taut and stretched out into a long, awkward silence.

"'Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken.'"

Vincent's sudden words permeated the air and Tifa was indeed startled to find the gunslinger calmly crossing the bridge towards them, his long, easy strides accompanied by his tattered cape billowing in ripples of fabric behind him. Tifa immediately noticed his gauntlet was held close to his chest under the folds of his cloak and she couldn't help but fall disconcerted at the oddity of the stance, let alone his sudden bout of poetry.

"Gawd," Yuffie rolled her eyes, all evidence of gravity purged from her posture though a faint red tinged her cheeks, "and I was supposed to be the melodramatic one!"

"I think you'll find the word you're looking for is, 'uneducated,'" Red spoke up, but any ill-intent found in his words was washed away by the glimmer of mirth in his eye. This had the 'desired' effect on Yuffie as the ninja launched into one of her infamous tirades about how she, 'knew lots of important stuff he didn't', and how, 'poetry was stupid.'

"YO!" Barret's boom almost rattled the very mountain pass. "Y'all waitin' fer a written invatation or sumthin'!?" the ex-AVALANCHE leader bellowed from across the bridge as he shouted back to those lingering by the falls. Yuffie immediately snapped her mouth shut before bounding towards the gun-armed man who waved from the other side of the gap, prepared to unleash a lengthy, well thought out response that Tifa surmised would most likely amount to, 'No, you.'

As Barret and Yuffie began to exchange words, Red XIII heard more than saw Cait Sith join the verbal fray while Marlene giggled and waved jovially to him from beside her father's leg. The fire-dog shook his head, his tassels chiming with the child's laughter as he watched them continue their trek down the trodden path. He made to follow but paused with paw raised, turning to shoot both Tifa and Vincent a quizzical look.

"Go on," Tifa half-smiled. "I'll wait for Denzel."

Red turned his lone eye to focus on Vincent and, when the crimson-cloaked man nodded in response, Nanaki returned the gesture before padding ahead, following the sheer bulk of Barret and the accented hollers of Cait Sith. Tifa felt the exchange had been one of those unspoken agreements Vincent and Red tended to share so well and she quickly shrugged it off, watching the fire-dog's burning tail disappear down the winding trail after the others.

Turning to face her present company, she now found Vincent staring up at the cascading waterfall before them. The gushing streams caught the sun from its position behind her, causing an entire spectrum of colours to burst forth from the crystal-clear spray and dance across her eyes like a shattered kaleidoscope. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the gunslinger bathed in rainbow while her mind recalled his earlier utterance. She couldn't pretend her heart hadn't fluttered at his words; after all, it was always attractive to hear a man speak in verse. She was certain that was a given and any woman would agree – including Yuffie, despite her apparent, outspoken opinion on the matter.

… She also couldn't pretend that Vincent didn't have just the right voice for it. Husky, low and smooth like an aged malt, he'd rolled the words off his tongue as easily as he did shooting his gun. But Tifa kept that particular thought to herself.

"Is it a habit of yours to interrupt with prose?" she finally asked, facing the falls to join his lingering gaze.

"Only in the right circumstances," he smoothly replied, once again surprising the fighter with his small leniency towards humour. His crimson gaze never budged from the tumbling waters. Silence stretched out between them, but unlike the one Tifa experienced before, this one was a comfortable stillness only found between friends. A grave expression settled over his brow and Tifa noticed the slight change of demeanour from the corner of her russet coloured eye. Questions lay at the tip of her tongue but she decided to keep them there rather than break the tranquility. Unbeknownst to the fighter, Vincent's mind was stirred with troubled memories of a woman who lay encased in crystal, situated atop another, far grandiose waterfall on the Western Continent.

A woman who, like him, was lost in time.

A woman he'd failed.

'To think of all the good we can do! The progress in science! It's just amazing, isn't it, Vincent?'

"It's just... magnificent, isn't it?" Tifa asked rhetorically, breaking the precious calm. Pulled from his distant recollection with a barely concealed start, Vincent snapped his gaze to her and blinked at the colours dancing across her shoulders from the water's spray. "It's so clear. I guess the work we're doing is really paying off." He observed for a moment before he realised she was talking about the waterfall. He stood stunned for a few seconds more before a small, bitter smile played unbidden on his lips like an old ghost played on his mind, but both were hidden from the woman next to him.

He tucked his chin deep into his cowl before grunting in response. "... Hmph."

Tifa blessed him with a small smile of her own at his answer but it promptly fell when her gaze did upon his hidden gauntlet. "Are you hurt?" she immediately asked, straightening up to face him. Vincent bristled and curled his claw in tighter, but not from Tifa's words. His talons slowly dug into his ribs and Vincent fought whatever it was that had taken hold, using all of his willpower not to flinch in pain.

His skull seared with the cruel, cold fingers of ice as scarlet eyes bore into him, bloodied and sore.

'To ble-eed is to li-ive.'

"Oh, that reminds me..." Tifa began to ruffle deep inside her duster pocket while Death Gigas watched from the pit of darkness within Vincent's head. The gunslinger stepped back as discreetly as possible in concern for her safety, though the act was made pointless when the fighter herself closed the distance between them. "Here," she said as she pulled a slim bottle from her pocket. The sun caught the curved glass and Vincent had to blink past the gleams of light to recognise the crystal blue liquid that lay inside. "I bought this earlier. For your jaw," Tifa explained, holding out the Potion towards him.

The hulking demon, who'd watched the interaction with interest at that point, suddenly turned away with a groan that sounded suspiciously close to humourous. Vincent held back a soft sigh. "Tifa," he began with a gentle rumble. "It is not necessary-"

"I know," she brushed him off, "but neither was it when you were giving me Potions before. So here." Vincent wanted to argue that it had been completely necessary since she'd been suffering from smoke inhalation at the time, but the defiant gleam in her russet eyes left no room for debate. She held the medicine outstretched and steady as he contemplated his answer to the roar of water.

"Vincent... let someone look after you for once."

This gained a rare raised brow from the gunslinger, the irony of her speaking such words not lost on him. He was about to bring attention to this when, with a boldness he should have expected from the woman by now, Tifa reached out and took his right hand, pressing the bottle firmly into his leather covered palm. The words hung in his throat.

"You think I haven't noticed?" she began softly as her fingers lingered over his own.

Vincent froze, his blood suddenly arctic.

Just what had she noticed, exactly? His slipping grip on control? His near assault on Denzel? His sudden, painful and unexpected 'episodes'? His mind raced with nauseating speed. Despite his cognitive processes suffering a Mako reactor-like meltdown, the thought of how long it'd been since he'd had any real human contact still made itself prominent. He couldn't remember the last time someone had physically reached out to him.

His mind was sent for another tailspin when Tifa squeezed his fingers around the glass bottle in his hand.

"I... don't want to push you." Here she hesitated, the side of her lips giving a self-conscious twitch. "But you're being very distant. More so than usual. And I just... I just want to make sure you're alright." She looked up at him through her lashes and Vincent could only stare back at her over the material fortress that was his cowl. She gave a meek shake of her head. "I haven't forgotten what you've done for me. Helping me back in Edge." Tifa paused, the incident with the violent thug still embarrassing to recall. Yet while it brought forth the agonising memory of her broken shoulder, it also came with the recollection of her encounter with Vincent after three long years.

For that, she supposed it was worth remembering for.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm just trying to return the favour." Her gloved thumb gave a concerned brush across his knuckles before she slowly withdrew her hand and tucked a fine lock of chocolate hair behind her ear. "It's not much, but I had to pay you back somehow."

Vincent swallowed and finally found his tongue. "... You owe me no debt."

Tifa quirked a smile. "Apart from my gratitude, maybe not."

A beat passed before the cloaked man hummed low in acceptance of her answer.

The conversation had not been one Vincent had anticipated in the slightest, if at all, and while he was pre-occupied with the lingering phantom of her fingers wrapped around his, Tifa stared at his face – or what little she could see of it over his cowl and under his bandanna. Suddenly she blurted out, "Can I have a look?" When Vincent awarded her with a dazed blink, she glanced to the side with a slight dash of bashfulness. "Your jaw, I mean."

Once again, words escaped the gunslinger. He could feel Death Gigas rumble in the recess of his mind and he understood the monstrosity's amusement: Tifa wanted to see what simply wasn't there. While fragile, his body was able to repair itself at a far greater rate due to the demons that dwelt within him. He certainly wasn't impervious to injuries or wounds and would suffer them as well as the next, but in terms of recovery he far surpassed his fellow man.

Oh, how he envied them. How he longed to be human.

Spiked wings unfurled in his skull and smothered his brain in endless void. His thoughts were choked with the echo of cracked words split and rended from this realm.

'WHY DESPAIR? THIS IS TRUE GREATNESS.'

Vincent revolted, the overwhelming urge to lash out his claw and rip a certain muscle from one's chest sending him to the verge of panic. He lashed his head to the side to re-enforce his mental barriers while Chaos sneered at him as he screwed his eyes shut. Wicked, sharp talons twitched and seized wildly under his cloak. Tifa straightened in alarm, yet despite her fear she took a rigid step towards him. Something in his mind screamed and spat and Vincent instantly recoiled.

"Tifa- !" Her cautious advance was abruptly brought to an end when Vincent's claw whipped out to block her path on reflex, revealing the wicked appendage from its hiding place and the coating of blood that drenched its gold plating. The fighter instinctively reacted by whipping up her fists in defence, right before her gaze landed with stupor on his gauntlet. Her mouth hung open and she stared at him wide-eyed, her shock so great she felt like she might as well have been physically hit.

"Vincent," she choked out. "Is that your... ?"

The gunman remained illy silent, swiftly drawing the appendage back within the folds of his mantle. Tifa knew the answer then and it didn't sit well with her. Vincent was a gunslinger. He excelled in firearms. He certainly wasn't inclined to close combat and she'd never known him to ever be so, though the blood staining his talons now told her otherwise.

And it wasn't his.

He remained steadfast in avoiding her gaze, taking another step back as he busied himself with tucking away the Potion bottle she'd handed him earlier. Once it was safely resting with its two brethren in the inner pockets of his cape, along with the Hi-Potion he'd also purchased earlier in Costa del Sol among other things, he turned away to gaze back up at the waterfall. A frown knit heavily on her brow as Tifa contemplated reaching out to him, but she ultimately decided to hold true to her earlier words. She didn't want to push him.

She looked past his shoulder and back towards paths just walked, her mind buzzing with questions and thoughts about not only one bedevilling man, but now two. She held back the anxiety that threatened to break from her chest in a hefty sigh and turned her attention across the bridge. When Tifa realised Denzel still hadn't rounded the corner, her expression immediately fell into that of a troubled mother's. It wasn't odd for the boy to linger and Tifa usually offered him any space he might need, trustful of Denzel not to fall too far behind, but he never took this long to catch up. She briskly passed Vincent, though not before offering a squeeze of reassurance to his upper arm through his cape. The man tensed as slim fingers traced across his mantle, though he gave no other indication of his surprise or mental turmoil.

"Denzel...?" Tifa called out, brushing her hand along the fissures in the rockface as she followed the crag wall. Stones crunched and ground under the shuffle of sneakers and she caught herself right before she bumped into her charge. The sight that met her lifted her brows.

She found the orphan practically hugging the mountainside, his eyes wide as he stared down at the river running beneath the bridge and through the valley far below.

"T-Tifa..." he barely sputtered, "I'm- I- I can't... I don't like... h-hei-"

"Hey, it's okay." Tifa reached out and combed her fingers through his wavy hair as quickly as she'd comforted him. The shame in his voice tugged at her heartstrings and reminded her what it was like to be a child again. All the uncertainty. The insecurities. The constant need for approval.

Hiding your fears because you were never taught otherwise.

But Tifa wanted to teach Denzel otherwise.

"I don't like heights much either," she murmured. "But that's okay. How about we walk over together?" Tifa smiled and held out her gloved hand. Denzel looked at the outstretched appendage with dubiousness, but slowly moved his own from the rockface he'd been gripping to take it. Tifa's smile grew and she gently tugged him away from the stone walls, coaxing the boy towards the waterfall. He shakily complied, practically hanging onto Tifa's mucky calf as she moved away and slowly carried them both towards the bridge hand in hand. The orphan desperately tried to avoid looking down, but in doing so caught sight of something else that made him freeze. Or rather, someone.

Denzel stared hard at Vincent's back with wary eyes, watching as the man stood close to the bridge side and observed the tumbling waters of the nearby fall. Immediately self-conscious, he tried to let go of Tifa's hand but the fright from earlier still held fresh in his mind and coursed through his frayed nerves. Barret had told him before they left Edge they were on a quest to hunt down monsters. Now, Denzel couldn't help but wonder: Was Vincent one of them?

'Is that why I shouldn't annoy him? Do the others know? … What do I do?'' The possibility of Vincent turning on Marlene much the same way he did him dawned on the orphan. He couldn't shake the thought or image from his head. He wanted to protect her. To prove he was brave enough. And Vincent kinda looked like a monster. He had a big claw and red eyes... His gaze flicked to the side of the bridge.

'Maybe I could just push him off the edge-'

Denzel's mind seized to a halt. He blinked in shock at his own thoughts and gave his head a sharp shake, sending wavy locks to grow even more tousled as he leaned further into Tifa's leg. The fighter caught the odd action and gently squeezed his hand, a concerned frown marring her features. He was obviously scared. An idea suddenly occurred to her.

Tifa hesitated for a moment before she finally spoke. "You know... I fell off a mountain once."

Denzel immediately snapped his gaze up to her with awe. "Really?"

"Mm hmm," she hummed. "I was about Marlene's age. Well, maybe a little older. I was looking for someone who... went to the Lifestream. I thought they were past Mt. Nibel, so I went to go find them. Turns out, Cloud saw me leave and decided to follow me."

While discreetly listening before, the mention of Nibelheim's infamous mountain most certainly earned the rest of Vincent's ear. Denzel scrunched up his nose in confusion. "Why did you think they were past a mountain? That's kinda dumb." The boy only realised what he'd said after the words left his mouth and he snapped his gaze down to his feet, only to stop dead in his tracks. He caught sight of the drop flickering out from between the bridge planks and wavered, throwing himself onto Tifa's mud-caked calf, but the fighter held strong to his hand and gently guided him on.

"Well," she continued softly, "people used to say no one living could pass it. So, I thought maybe those who weren't with us anymore could. It made sense to me at the time. I was young so believing things like that didn't seem odd to me." If Tifa took offense to his words, she didn't show it. "Guess you're brighter than I am, huh, Denzel?" She shot him a crooked smile and the boy was steeped in guilt, avoiding her eyes and instead watching the way her hair brushed against her leather vest as she walked.

The fighter continued. "I was almost at the top of the mountain before Cloud caught up with me, but by then it was too late..." here, she gave a brief exhale; a shadow of a laugh. "I missed my step, and then..." Tifa looked into the distance as the memory played behind her eyes.

Denzel peered up at her with his own pupils grown wide and gripped her hand tighter. Vincent turned his head slightly.

"What happened?" he asked eagerly.

"Well... I don't remember much after falling. I was in a coma for seven days afterwards."

"Whoa..." Denzel gaped at the fighter and Tifa smiled. Her plan on distracting him from the drop below was working like a charm. "What happened to Cloud?" the boy asked.

"Cloud?" she repeated. "He was on crutches for a few days. Apparently he kept trying to visit me. Even tried bringing me soup everyday after I woke up, but my Papa was so mad... he kept turning him away." Tifa smiled down at the boy, her own grin surprising her. Vincent watched with interest, noting down the insight into Tifa's past as he looked to the mountain peaks with worldly respect.

"But why? He tried to help you, didn't he?" Denzel wrinkled his nose.

"Well, he thought Cloud lead me there." Tifa looked ahead, hiding a smile knowing they'd almost reached their destination. "He didn't know he was actually trying to stop me. And Cloud never told him the truth, in case my Papa got angry and blamed me. Me and Cloud weren't actually that close back then, but we used to always find trouble when we were together. I guess I tended to stay safer when I was alone." Here, Tifa turned to grin down at Denzel. "But where's the fun in that?"

A rare smile across Denzel's face, before he looked up through his messy locks in question. "So... who were you looking for?"

Tifa's own smile fell. It was a few moments before she finally replied. "My Mama."

Denzel grew silent.

Vincent fully turned to regard the martial artist, watching her back carefully as she continued to lead the young boy across the final stretch of the bridge. His quiet esteem for the mountains extended to the woman before him and he finally moved from the mighty waterfall and its encompassing roar to shadow her.

"Here we are!" Tifa cheerfully announced, releasing Denzel's hand and masking her pain with a proud smile. The boy in question blinked up at her before he snapped his head to and fro to look around in complete surprise.

"... You did well, Denzel."

The boy tossed his head back with wide eyes as Vincent strode up behind Tifa, the crimson-cloaked man watching both orphan and fighter near jump at his presence. Denzel quickly narrowed his eyes and took a few shaky steps back, shooting him a steely look through his azure gaze. Vincent returned it with his own of blood-red; both man and boy studying each other intently. Tifa immediately grew suspicious not to mention alarmed and instinctively stepped in front of the boy, breaking each other's line of sight. Vincent and Tifa regarded each other with immoveable obduracy.

"Hey, Denzel!" Marlene suddenly called from somewhere down the mountain path. "Come look at the pretty flowers!"

Denzel spun round to catch sight of his best friend waving to him with a fully outstretched arm, her smile clear as day in her voice. "Y-yeah! Okay!" he called back with a nod despite knowing she couldn't see it. He turned to Tifa, silently asking for permission. Sensing this, the fighter tore her eyes from the man before her to wave the boy away. Denzel hesitated, his gaze flicking between the two adults. Finally, he turned to jog down the trail and join the beckoning girl.

When Tifa continued to remain stationary rather than follow after him, Vincent cautiously moved to stand next to her shoulder.

"... Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

She turned and shot him an expression the gunslinger couldn't quite decipher. "Yeah," she breathed. "Are you?" They both held each other's gaze, each searching for something neither were willing to give. Tifa finally broke away with a brief shake of her head, briskly turning to follow after Denzel and Marlene as the pair raced each other down the mountain path. Vincent remained where he stood, his mind caught in the turbulence of his troubles. He pushed his cape aside and turned to peer down paths just walked, past the waterfall and the wooden bridge with its worn posts and frayed ropes. He could just make out the great field that was the peripheral of Costa del Sol, the storm of white dots that were dandelion seeds passing by like a bizarre bout of summer snow.

… Vincent had a suspicion he'd angered her.

Though she recounted part of her past with resolve, it was clear it pained her in doing so. In deciding to question her welfare he was prepared to be brushed off as per usual from the fighter, but he was not prepared for the emotion she met him with. Her russet eyes burned with something akin to accusation. Though he knew not of what, he willingly took the blame. Just another burden to add to his shoulders. Vincent unholstered Cerberus and focused on the descending trail ahead, ignoring the small, secret part of him that clawed at his mind and cried for absolution. He didn't deserve it.

He finally took after her, revolver drawn to seek the blood of his enemies. He remedied his guilt with bullets.

Just another sin.

As the rocky trail began to curve and slope, his vision was encompassed with a myriad of yellow on green. His ears were met with the playful cries of two children who'd ran ahead of him earlier. As he approached, he beheld the plain before him with respectable wonder. Daffodils swayed in great waves below him, their pastel yellows and sunny golds swathing the field in colour. It was only when his name was called did he realise the sight had brought him to a standstill.

"Thair he is! Come on, Vinnie!"

He turned to see Cait Sith leap up and down from Nanaki's head, the furry duo having evidently waited at the bottom of the path for him. He inclined his head, tucking his chin within the depths of his cowl as his gold-plated boots continued their clink against gravel and stone. His approach afforded him better sight of the party and he passed his gaze over each in turn. Yuffie was sitting by a nearby river, furiously scrubbing marker pen from her arms and face. Tifa was by her side with a rare and genuine smile, peeling away layers of mud and grime from her arms and legs with a wash of fresh water. Barret stood by one of two rock pillars outside a nearby cave entrance, arms folded with a mighty grin as he watched his daughter fish through the plant petals to hold up a carefully plucked daffodil. She proceeded to tuck the flower down the front of Denzel's button up shirt, much to the boy's discomfited protests. The flower head poked out from the top of his buttons and sat proudly against his chest.

Vincent turned his gaze back to the two before him only to find Cait Sith seeking out his hidden claw while Red XIII eyed his withdrawn gun with interest. His talons involuntary twitched under his cloak and the gunslinger curled his claw tighter to his ribs. "Are you anticipating battle?" Red suddenly asked. Vincent wasted no time in responding.

"Always."

Nanaki nodded sagely. "Yes. Too easy is it to forget ourselves in presence of the Planet's bounty." He turned his head with a jingle of his mane chimes, looking over the plenteous plants and their sunlit petals. Vincent followed his gaze, reflective of the Planet's recovery. Flowers were as rare as gems many years ago and just as valuable. People had fought and even spilt blood over them, their properties for herbal medicine invaluable to those who couldn't afford Shinra's manufactured product. To find someone who practised the art and science of herbalism was rarer still; something Vincent knew all too well. His mind touched over an old memory from another lifetime. Soft hands. The sweet smell of chamomile.

'Mother...'

Cait Sith glanced between the gunslinger and fire-dog before swiftly breaking the atmos. "Soo... shood'a give you two a moment?"

Red gave an unexpected snort. "A moment is never enough for us, is it, Vincent?" Nanaki grinned up at him, a set of sharply pointed canines accenting his humour. Vincent gave a brisk nod in agreement, a rare warmth of friendship shared between them. Cait Sith shook his head from atop Red's own and shrugged with both white gloved hands, though a grin teased at his muzzle.

"How about we scout the perimeter?" Nanaki suggested, not missing the twitch of Vincent's index finger over his gun trigger. The crimson-cloaked man focused on something in the distance and the lion-like dog followed his gaze, only to find Tifa and Yuffie now engaged in some sort of water fight given the splashes they threw each others way. Vincent pulled Red XIII from his observations with a brief hum in agreement.

"Move on ahead. I will accompany you shortly."

The quadruped watched with a careful eye before responding. "Very well." Nanaki turned with a flick of his tail, a wave of embers passing over his slender back as he slunk away to begin his patrol. Cait Sith kept watch over his black-furred shoulder as Vincent began to walk towards an unoccupied and more cloistered part of the river. The small cat puppet turned back round and leaned down to peer over Red's crown using both outstretched arms for purchase.

"Ah guess yae worried too?" he voiced.

Nanaki's eye flicked up before his gaze returned to the surrounding fringes of the field. "It would appear anxieties are running high," he mused. Cait Sith leaned back to contemplate Red XIII's words, crossing his arms as his white-tipped tail flicked back and forth from under his cape. As the pair headed off on their scouting route, Vincent just reached his chosen section of the river. The gunman paused before holstering Cerberus, turning to pass a quick glance over his shoulder. Satisfied he wasn't observed by any unwelcome eyes, he carefully lowered himself to kneel by the water's edge.

His image slowly emerged from the turquoise depths and he stared hard at his reflection, the flowing water distorting his vision with its steady currents. He softly exhaled through his nose and closed his eyes, taking a rare moment to listen to the bubbling flow before him. Finally, he pulled his bloodied claw from the confines of his cloak. The shimmer of its gold plating had now been lost to dried blood, the appendage crusted over with the liquid of veins. A cracked and dirty red spread across the metal, giving his gauntlet the appearance of onset rust.

Vincent turned his claw over, brows furrowing under his bandanna as he regarded the knife-like talons encasing his left hand. A memory flashed behind his eyes and he suddenly thrust the claw into the water in anger, the resulting splash violently throwing ripples into the flow. He held his arm in up to his elbow, muscles fighting against the relatively strong current as he desperately submerged the appendage as he did the memory. He wanted to drown it.

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about what lay beneath the metal.

Two yellow eyes seared the back of his mind with malevolence as he slowly surfaced the appendage as well as his self-control. His gauntlet re-emerged with a flash of light, its surface cleansed of blood and once more gleaming a lustered gold. Vincent regarded the burnished plating just long enough to ensure all traces of violence were gone before he rose from the riverside. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply through his nose in hopes of bringing order to his thoughts. As he once more surveyed the area, he took note of a cavern that lay across the running waters of the river, the cave set into an opposing mountain range. He idly wondered what secrets lay within, but felt it best not to continue down that path of thought.

Some secrets were best kept just that.

He turned away with a whorl of crimson, his tattered cape trailing after his form as he strode back towards the field and through the sea of yellow daffodils.

It did not take long for the gunslinger to catch up with Red XIII and Cait Sith, the pair lingering on the outskirts of grassland. It appeared they'd ran into little conflict in the short span of his absence, but Vincent kept true to his word and joined the furry duo on their patrol route. The canine and feline each looked upon Vincent's now revealed claw in surprise, but said little more on the matter. Banter was exchanged for a few minutes, mainly from Cait Sith himself, before they finally encountered any from of hostility. A few scarce Beachplugs made themselves known but fell quickly to Vincent's gun and Nanaki's claws as they engaged combat, the squid-like creatures making a swift retreat as Red snapped at their tentacled heels.

It wasn't long before Barret's boom alerted the trio they were once more on the move and as they returned to the Planet's bounty of sunny flowers, they were all greeted by a much cleaner and much wetter-looking Tifa and Yuffie.

"Whit happened tae you two?" Cait Sith laughed, "Yer both lookin' a bit drenched, thair!" The fighter and ninja each turned to each other, the former giving Yuffie an accusing lift of an elegant brow while the latter shot Tifa a truly mischievous grin. The small cat puppet looked between the two women before deciding to mutter a, "Yae knoo whit? Nae'er mind..."

"So, where have YOU guys been?" Yuffie changed the subject with an accusing tilt to her hips. When Cait Sith tapped his little black nose, the ninja huffed and turned away with a limp dance of ribbons from her wet headband.

Tifa decided to take a different route of questioning. "Ready to go?" she instead asked with a quirk of her lips. Nanaki nodded and began to move ahead while Yuffie gawked at the fistfighter for ignoring her question. Tifa's eyes settled on Vincent's now visible and gleaming claw, but when she turned questioning russets to the gunslinger, the man simply turned away to avoid her gaze. Tifa shook her head, giving a barely audible sigh of exasperation. "Come on, Red," Tifa reached down and lightly brushed her hand across the mane running along his neck. "Let's clean your nose, first."

The fire-dog blinked. "Ah, yes. I'd grown so accustomed to the smell of soil, I'd actually forgotten!" he grinned up at the fighter and they both began to walk through the flowers and back towards the river, Cait Sith admonishing Red's forgetfulness the entire way. Vincent watched them go in deep thought, now overhearing Tifa talk fondly of the abundant daffodils that surrounded them.

It was a moment before he realised Yuffie had moved to stand next to him.

"Hey, Vinnie?" The trepidation in her voice finally coaxed his gaze from the retreating fighter to focus on the ninja in question. Her chestnut-coloured irises searched out his own, the concern they held secretly taking the gunslinger aback. It was a far cry from the look of mischief usually found in her eyes. "I think Tifa's mad at something," she continued. "I've never seen her like this before."

Vincent held back a sigh. "... I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to ask regarding the matter, Yuffie."

"Oh, yeah? That cause she's mad at you?"

Vincent snapped his gaze back to the ninja's own. The look on her face told him he'd given her all the answers she needed. She smirked before tapping her forehead with a slim index finger, eyes raised in thought. "Tifa said she loves daffodils. Wouldn't stop talking 'bout the stupid things since we got here. Why don't you go give her one or something? It'd be like a peace offering!" Yuffie grinned before grabbing the ends of Vincent's cape and ducking under the fabric at his back, the gunslinger barely able to form a word of protest before she danced away with a giant grin, heading towards the impatient bellows of Barret and the laughter of his daughter in the distance. "You were always good at pissing people off, Vincent!" she called back before spinning her way through the flowers with her usual carefree grin.

Though her parting words hit a little too close to home, Vincent couldn't help but feel a bubble of amusement at her antics. He looked over the swathes of sunny bulbs before him in thought, the flowers gently swaying to a melody only they could hear. That, or they laughed at his expense.

'Daffodils... Hmph.'

He spun on his heel to join Barret before the man grew even further impatient.

The entire party finally rejoined at the entrance of the cave Barret had taken to standing by earlier, their brief break officially over with the ex-AVALANCHE leader's stern call. Once everyone was accounted for, he lead the team into the short cavern that acted as a direct passage through the mountainside. In a minute or two, their motley crew stood at the bottom of a steep and rocky incline, the trail littered with loose rocks and unsecured stones. Odd shoots of grass and weathered trees bordered the climb in thick growths, clinging to the harsh terrain with stubborn roots. The low sun glimmered down from the crest with intense rays, almost blinding them with its intensity as it concealed whatever lay over the top in a wash of gold.

The sight took their breath away with its beauty.

"Well, can't stand around here gawkin'!" Barret exclaimed before giving a gruff grunt as he began to climb the steep slope. "Let's move, people!" The gun-armed man forced his sheer bulk up the trail, his heavy boots rattling the unsteady rocks as he heaved himself up the incline. Tifa followed, her leg muscles straining with the effort as she ascended the near vertical path. Nanaki bounded up after them, Marlene and Cait Sith on his back while Yuffie followed with a lot less grace, scrabbling up after the quadruped amidst falling stones with accusations of how he was a, 'no-good cheating, lion-dog... thing!'

Denzel watched them go with a nervous grimace before he shook himself and balled his fists. Stepping up the first few rocks, he began to carefully ascend the slope for himself. His loose footing immediately became evident as gravel and stones began to shift under the soles of his sneakers. His determination began to falter, but he pressed on. Soon, the orphan was stretching out his hands to grip small boulders ahead of him to aid his climb, his muscles and lungs protesting at the effort. Suddenly, a boulder he used as a literal stepping stone dislodged from its dirt depression and he slid back with the tumbling rock, his hands scrabbling for purchase amongst the small rock slide.

His sudden fall was abruptly stopped when his foot caught with a broad shoulder.

Denzel looked behind him in shock as he was slowly pushed back up, his hands once more finding purchase against the incredibly steep trail. He turned to meet the blood-red eyes of Vincent Valentine, the man offering himself as footing for the orphan. Denzel's words caught in his throat as Vincent gently pushed him back up with a nudge of his shoulder. The gunman appeared to hesitate before he finally spoke.

"... Stay close to the others."

Denzel understood the hidden meaning behind the sombre tone and nodded shakily, withdrawing his unlaced sneaker from the right side of Vincent's cloak to place back onto the trail. The gunslinger tucked his chin into his cowl, remaining close behind the boy as he continued his climb. Vincent carried himself up the trail behind him with easy strides, his long legs and height working to his advantage. Occasionally Denzel would once more slip under the tide of loose pebbles, but Vincent was always quick to offer him footing in way of a study shoulder, the pair continuing their climb to the summit.

It wasn't long before the two finally met the rest of the party at the peak, Denzel quickly re-joining the others as Vincent consciously followed behind, the right side of his mantle covered in footprints and gravel. As the group caught their breath and moved on, they followed the winding trail that lead into the blinding sun; that lead into Corel.

They travelled in single file across the narrow mountain path, a fast approaching sunset framing their figures in melting orange. Playful banter echoed across the burning peaks and surrounding valleys as a gun-armed man, a fighter, a fire-dog, a small cat, two children, a ninja and a gunslinger continued their long journey over the mountains; their silhouettes bathed in the brilliance of an auburn sun.