Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ A Beautiful Lie ❯ Hello, Goodbye ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Square Enix owns all rights to the Final Fantasy VII epic, including locations, plot, and characters. I claim no part of their ideas. All characters not originally in the video game or animated movies are my creations.

 

Author's Note: I don't really know where this is headed. I do know that once I've got a story in my head I have to put it in words. And Vincent has always been a hidden fascination of mine. Seeing as how I've never played the game (though I have an almost scary amount of knowledge on it) I've never had the guts to post a fic about it. This isn't my first attempt, though I hope it's significantly better then my previous one. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is don't take it too seriously. I'm just another silly fan girl trying to live vicariously in a different world.

 

This really is sort of a spur of the moment thing. I've been suffering with severe writers block lately, and maybe this will help it pass. Just don't expect frequent updates. I've got to finish my other stories and start the ones that I haven't.

 

Dedications: To my ever lovely Deedlets. He's no papi chulo, but he still makes you squeal uncontrollable every time he comes on screen. Just take deep breaths and we won't need to make a trip to the ER. Love ya girl! ^_~

 

 

 

Chapter One

Hello, Goodbye

 

It was around one when Reina heard the soft knock on her door. She frowned and leaned back in her chair.

 

“Distractions, distractions.” She muttered to herself as she eyed the paper in front of her. The makings of the drawing were rough and hasty. Mere outlines of what she visioned the finished piece to be. The fervor at she's started with hadn't waned in the hours that she'd been sitting there. Unfortunately, her hand and her mind's eye had too different ways of seeing things. The discarded pieces of newsprint and the much more expensive bristol thrown around the room were evidence of that. She'd just gotten the profile right and was beginning to make definition to the figures facial features when she was interrupted by the person at the door.

 

“I'll be right there.” She sighed, giving the drawing one last frustrated look before pushing back from the table and standing up. There was a kink in her lower back that she worked at with her hand as she headed out of the messy room to the front door.

 

It had been raining all morning, giving the town of Kalm a dreary and depressing ambience. Whenever the rain did cease, which was never more then half an hour or so, a heavy fog would obscure the streets and building fronts. It swallowed sound and light. Reina hated days like that, when everything seemed a little haunted.

 

She made her way down the hall. Through the fan shaped window on the door she could make out a crop of dark, disheveled hair. Whoever it was, they were a stranger.

 

“State your business.” She spoke, pushing her own hair out of her eyes. Her bangs were getting too long and she figured it was time go see about another cut.

 

“I saw the sign in the window.” The stranger replied. From the tenor she could tell it was a male, the voice indistinct but weighty.

 

“OK. Just give me a second to find the key.” She glanced at the coat hanger nearby despite the fact that she already knew it wasn't hanging where it should be.

 

“I'm always losing the damn thing.” She added, more for her own benefit then his. It hadn't been her idea to install the new lock but her close friend's, Lanice. She never did approve the idea of having her live in the house by herself. Lanice came from an old fashioned family, with even more old fashioned ideas. In her world, a lady didn't move out of her childhood home until she had the right security. Or in other words a husband. Reina sometimes questioned whether or not she really believed in such archaic ideas, after all she was best friends with her (and she'd never considered herself the most modest of persons.) Then again, Lanice did marry right out of grade school, so she supposed she believed in them enough.

 

Either way, after enough bickering over the issue, she finally caved in. Now in addition to the dead bolt that was already in place, another was added. But one which only opened with a key. Outside or in. After it was put in place, Reina turned to her friend and promptly declared that if she died of a house fire and she couldn't escape because she wasn't able to get the door open, she would remain here in spirit form just to be a pain in her rear. Only it wasn't said as nicely.

 

“Oh honey, you already are pain in my rear,” was the response she got. “You're dinner's in the oven. Wash the plate this time before you bring it back. Do you know how hard it is to clean porcelain with three day old lasagna on it?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” She continued to sulk as she closed the door on her, making a point to use only the old lock. She got five steps away from the door when she heard her friend demand that she used both. The only thing that made her turn around and comply was the fact that Lanice had cursed. That happened on the rarest of occasions. Most of which involved her being mad, usually with her.

 

Since that day the key had been a constant problem. Routine was never the norm for her, and since she never made a habit of hanging the key someplace where it could be easily found she was constantly forgetting where she last put it. She couldn't even count how many times she'd been late simple because she couldn't get out of her house.

 

Her pockets came up empty when she searched them so she retraced her steps to the back room. The work table was key free, as was the floor when she started shifting the discarded papers around. Cursing under her breath she headed to the kitchen, hoping that it was on the counter with the remains of breakfast that she'd picked up earlier.

 

Upon first look the kitchen also seemed to be keyless. But noticing the mess that had built up over the past few days she figured it couldn't hurt to tidy things up a little. Probably wouldn't look good to a possible tenant to see what an actual slob she was. It only took a few seconds to grab up the old bags and empty take-out containers.

 

The rain had started up again and she hurried past the window above the sink to the trash can. As she lifted up the lid she noticed something sticking out behind it. Tossing the trash, she bent over to retrieve it.

 

“Damn cat.” She muttered as she glared at the chewed up plastic ring. “This is the second time this week.” It was her own fault really. Anything left on the counter was fair game to Mitten, her tabby. Sighing she returned to the front door.

 

“Sorry about that. I can never seem to keep track of my key. Genetic fault I guess.” She stated as she slid it into the bottom lock and turned. “Both my parents would lose their heads if they weren't attached to their necks. I guess they passed that trait on to me.

 

“Also, I have a cat who thinks it the best thing since sliced bread. He's always getting his fat paws on it.” She reached for the second lock. “I hope that doesn't bother you, the cat and all. He's not that big of a pain. Just don't leave your keys lying ar-”

 

She opened the door finally and seeing the man standing before her caused her to stop mid word.

 

“Oh.” She uttered without thinking about it. The key fell from her hand and landed on the wooden floor with a metallic clink that could barely be heard over the downpour.

 

The first thing that she noticed was his height. Which was ridiculous when considering all the other things that were unusual about him. But at a messily 5'2 it was easy to feel dwarfed by others. It was after she got over that shock that she saw his eyes, and the cape, and hand. If it could be called that. Taking a step back, partly out of surprise and partly out of intimidation, she returned her gaze back to his face and said the first thing that came to mind.

 

“You're... wet.”

 

He glanced down at himself as if he hadn't realized it before she mentioned it. “I didn't expect rain.”

 

He was looking at her with those strange eyes. She'd seen glowing eyes before by those infused with Mako, but never any in crimson. It was unnerving. Especially with half his face obscured by the equally red cloth.

 

“Who the hell wears a cape?” Realizing she'd spoken out loud she cleared her throat, her cheeks and ears heating up with embarrassment.

 

“Um. The room right?” She shook her head, mentally kicking herself. Her big mouth always got her in trouble. And being rude was definitely not the way to find someone to rent the room. In an attempt to make up for what she'd said she opened the door wider and stepped to the side.

 

“Why don't you come in. I'll get you a towel or something to dry off and then we can talk.”

 

“Thank you.” He nodded his head slightly and walked past her into the hallway. She watched him for a few seconds before grabbing the dropped key and closing the door behind her. She made no attempt to lock it, instead she stuck the key in her front pocket. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in her own house with a man who looked as if he could crush her throat with that claw if he felt so inclined.

 

“I'll get that towel. Just give me a second.” Reluctantly she turned her back to him and headed up the stairs while chanting, “I need the money” to herself quietly. The guy, whoever he was, gave her the creeps. But she needed someone to rent the extra room in her house. Her finances had been tight the past couple of months. People were more interested in repairing their lives then enriching them with art. She understood completely, but it was hurting her in the long run.

 

Her farther always said she needed some kind of hustle. Something extra to fall back on during hard times. Too bad she was such a hard head.

 

She reaching the landing she turned left into her bathroom, and pulled a towel off the rack without turning on the light. The last person to come look at the room had been six weeks ago. Six agonizing weeks of eating packaged noodles and leaving the lights off at night simply because she couldn't afford to pay. The fall season was quickly coming to an end and she was going to need the heat. Winters in Kalm weren't forgiving.

 

If she didn't find a tenant soon her only option was to move back home. With her parents. The thought almost made her shudder.

 

She descended the stairs, expecting to see the dark haired stranger standing at the landing where she'd left him. But he wasn't.

 

“Great, didn't even give me a chance to really run him off.” Frowning, she gave the towel draped over her arm a disappointed glare before throwing it over the banister. With a defeated sigh she started back to her work room, fully intent on finishing the drawing that would probably never grace the walls of anyones home let alone a gallery. Three steps down the hall she heard an unfamiliar noise over the pounding rain. It only lasted for a moment, but the tone echoed in her head for a few seconds. She stood there thoroughly confused until she realized where the noise came from. The piano in the living room.

 

“Hey mister, you still here?” She called out as she grabbed the towel and headed back towards the door. “I thought you ran out on me.”

 

He was standing by the living room grand, the fingers of his right hand still lingering over the keys.

 

“Oy, be careful with that!” He looked up at her, face placid and ashen in the light from a nearby window. “It's a heirloom or something. My folks would boil me if it got damaged.”

 

“Sorry.” Again with that hushed voice. He drew back his hand and stood staring at her. Oh yeah, the guy really gave her the creeps.

 

“Don't worry about it. I'm just jumpy about this room. I don't really use it much. Most of the stuff in here is several generations old, and worth more then I've earned my entire life.” She moved into the room and held out the towel for him to take. “I'm Reina, by the way.”

 

“Vincent.” He ran the towel over his face and she was glad. His eyes were no longer on her. She guessed that was the reason he weirded her out so much. They were so unusual.

 

“It's nice to meet you.” She took the towel back from him after he got finished passing it over his hair, leaving it more tousled then before. “I take it that you just arrived here. Haven't seen you around before.”

 

He just nodded. She raised on eyebrow and crossed her arms. Wasn't much of a talker. “Well, the room is in the back. I can give you a tour of the place if you like.”

 

He inclined his head and she backed out of the room, waiting for him to follow before she turned her back to him. The whole exchanged was uncomfortable, and she didn't like how he trailed behind her a few steps. Out of sight and eerily quiet. She kept glancing back to make sure he was in fact still there.

 

“The kitchens right here,” she explained while pausing in front of the doorway. “I don't cook much, so I don't really spend too much time in here. You'd pretty much have free reign if you do.”

 

They continued down the hall, passing by a side table covered with framed photos. She caught their profiles in the mirror hanging above it. The light was poor, so their faces were obscured in shadows. It just made her look sickly, accentuating the area around her too wide nose and the hollows below her cheek bones. He, on the other hand, looked like an antiquated figure thrown into a time not of his own. The lack of light didn't make him seem washed out and anemic. Instead, there was a certain elegance about him that the darkness enhanced. For a second he lifted his head high enough the reveal his full face, and their eyes meet in the glass. She looked away, embarrassed again, but this time for being caught staring. Everything about him was intense, including his stare. He would make a great model she thought. Something Gothic, with oils.

 

When they reached the end of the hall she stopped in front of the closed door. “It's already furnished. I can have the stuff moved into storage if you don't need it.”

 

“That won't be necessary.”

 

“Hmm.” She nodded and opened the door, moving to side so that he could walk in. A moment later she'd flipped up the light switch, flooding the room with artificial yellow light.

 

“This is it. The bathroom is next to the stairs. If you decide to take the room, you'll have to share mine though. The plumbing's old and I've been having some problems with it lately. Especially since the whole Meteor bit. Foundations off, or something.” When he didn't respond she went on. “Being the only one here I really haven't found the need to fix it.

 

He nodded. Again. And she sighed and crossed her arms, again, while watching him inspect the room. Finally he turned to back to her.

 

“Where is your bathroom?”

 

“Upstairs,” she answered and unfolded her arms. “Come on, I'll show you.” They exited and she pointed to the room across the hall.

 

“That's my work area. Excuse the mess, but when inspiration hits I don't stop to pick up after myself.” That wasn't exactly the truth. She made a mess pretty much in every area of the house, for the exception of the den and, thank God, the bathroom. “I spend most of my time in there. But I'm quiet.”

 

After closing the door she went back down the hall again and up the stairs to the bathroom. Muffin was laying in the sink when she entered and she shook her head as she hung up the towel she'd still been caring

 

“That's the one I warned you about. He's made of sticky hate. He's the slayer of all things shinny, like keys, and anything that's worn on your feet.” She smiled, despite knowing there were few things more annoying then a person who laughed at their own jokes, but she was hopping to see some flicker of emotion on his stoic face. Then she realized he hadn't even been listening. Instead he was standing at the top of the stairs with his attention focused on her bedroom door.

 

“Hey, pal, the bathroom's over here.”

 

He glanced at her, then the bathroom. “I've seen all I need.” Then he went back down the stairs, leaving her there, very befuddled and a little ticked off.

 

“Um, OK.” She went after him, realizing that he'd gone down with barely a creak out of the old wood whereas she came pounding down with a sound akin to that of an avalanche.

 

“So does this mean you're not going to take the room, because I really-”

 

“Need the money.” He finished for her. She stood there with her mouth hanging open before she collected herself.

 

“You heard that?” He nodded. She winched. “Look, mister. I may not be the politest and reserved of people. But I'll stay out of your business and give you your space. That being said, I don't expect you'll find the same courtesy with anyone else in this town. They don't like new faces. Especially one's like yours. No offense.” And then she held her breath. If he hadn't left before he was sure to now.

 

“How much is the rent?”

 

She exhaled and fell back, using the railing on the stairs to control her fall as she sat down. “250 gil. 300 during the winter. This house gets wicked cold. That includes utilities but not food. Like I said, I don't cook much. Usually bum off of friends or eat out.”

 

“Are there any rules I should know about?”

 

She shrugged and pushed her hair out of her face. “A few. They're all written up with the lease. I can go get it for you and you can look it over.” Another nod. She got up and ran to the back room. It took her about a minute to produce the stapled papers in the chaotic state that the area was in. But she did and returned to the hallway.

 

“There's a sheet in the back, could you fill that out for me? It's just a way for me to contact you and a space for references.” She handed him the papers and a pen that she'd miraculously thought of before she leaving the work room. After he finished with the form, she folded it up and stuck it in her pocket.

 

“That's it I guess. No last minute questions?” This time he didn't nod. He shook his head 'no.'

 

“Well, I'll see you to the door.” She said good bye and waited until he'd made it off her porch before closing it after him.

 

The first thing she did after searching again for a key, was to pick up her phone.

 

“Lanice. You'll never believe what just happened.”

 

She heard several voices in the background before her friend answered. “What, you made your own dinner?”

 

“You wish.” She smiled. “No, actually I was planning on coming over this evening. What's on the menu?”

 

“Liver and onions.”

 

“Oh gross, I'll pass.” She sat down on her bed. “I had a guy come look at the room just now.”

 

“Really? Who?”

 

“I don't know. He's from out of town.”

 

There was a pause on the other end. “Well, did you get his name?”

 

“Of course I did, I'm not that forgetful.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“V something or the other. I don't remember.”

 

“Reina!”

 

“Calm down, he wrote it down. And before you ask, yes I gave him the lease papers to look over.” She fished the paper out of her pocket.

 

“Vincent Valentine.”

 

“What was he like. He didn't look like he'd rape and then murder you did he?”

 

“Well, actually...”

 

“Seriously, Rei,” Lanice sighed, “Do not rent the room out to just any Joe Shmoe. He could be anyone. You just don't know.”

 

“I know I need the money.”

 

“I'd rather have you alive and miserable while staying with your parents then in mortal danger with some ragging lunatic. You can't trust everybody.”

 

“Yeah. I know.” She heard the jingle of a bell and Muffin appeared on the bed. “Hey you bad ass cat. Come 'ere you little stinker.”

 

“Are you listening to me?”

 

“Yes, I heard you. I have his references. I'll call them this evening.”

 

“Fine. I'm going to call down to the inn and see if he's staying there. Maybe Clint can shed some light on the guy. You said Valentine, right?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Call me later.”

 

“Yes, mother.”

 

“Har har, smart mouth. Bye.”

 

She hung up the phone and laid back on the bed, absentmindedly petting the cat as she looked over the slanted writing on the paper in her hand.

 

“Lockheart and Highwind.” She murmured. The names sounded familiar, but she couldn't place the faces or circumstances in which she heard them. After awhile she got up and when back downstairs. There was a drawing to be finished, even if only to insure her sanity.