Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Chronicles of Valentine ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

Chronicles of Valentine: Chapter Four

 

>>December 25, 2003<<

 

I wasn't there when Reeve died.

 

He had sent me on some mission, something trivial that really wasn't important in the long scheme of things. But my Turk instincts had been getting restless clinging so close to home and recognized that I was going stir-crazy. The beast had been easy to kill, easy to take down, but it had served its purpose. Once I reloaded my weapon and washed the blood from my claw, I was ready to return to polite society.

 

That was when my cellphone rang and I answered it. Cid was on the phone. He had bad news for me, subdued for once and using my whole name. Reeve was in the hospital, he told me, he had a stress-induced heart attack.

 

I had seen the signs. I knew that he was getting ill, losing sleep, not getting enough to eat or getting enough rest. But he ignored my subtle suggestions to rest, to give some of his subordinates some of the burden. He was certain he was strong enough to handle it, that he was still young and spry.

 

Maybe I didn't try hard enough. Maybe it was partly my fault. Maybe I should have ignored Reeve's protests and forced him to take a vacation, to rest. Maybe I should have shot Rufus ShinRa when I had the chance since it was partly his blame, too. There were a lot of maybes that I considered on my quick journey back to Junon. And quick it was. I didn't think I had ever moved that fast, even in my quickest of forms.

 

For once, even the demons living inside of me were subdued.

 

But by the time I arrived, it was too late.

 

His body was too weak, the doctors said. There was nothing they could do. It was the second one he had suffered.

 

What kind of lover was I that I hadn't even known there had been a first. Reeve never told me. Was it because I told him that I had nothing to offer him? Did he not want to worry me? Did he think I wouldn't care? There was no way for me to know.

 

When I heard the news, I didn't know what to think. I stopped and I stared at the doctors in disbelief, and then I turned and headed the door. To somewhere. Anywhere. I found the roof and there I hid while the others came, Cloud and the rest of the gang.

 

It was December 21st when I learned of Reeve's death.

 

I sat on the roof for the next twenty-four hours, never moving. I searched deep inside of myself, waiting for the crushing pain that I knew should have been inevitable. But all I felt was an emptiness, a hollowness. I felt numb; I was numb. There was nothing to be felt.

 

Except guilt. I should have felt sorrow, felt something. But like I had said, I had nothing to offer Reeve. Not even grief.

 

I felt his absence from his life, I recognized it in the next moves I made as I watched all the arrangements from the shadows. Cloud and Cid took care of most of them; no one asked my opinion. I didn't expect them to.

 

If there was anything he wanted to say, or had meant to say, I wouldn't know and never would. It was far too late.

 

You couldn't bring people back from the dead. Not even with a Life. Or a Phoenix Down. Sometimes it was too late for the magic to work. Sometimes there wasn't anything left to save. And sometimes, no matter how much one wished it, the body simply couldn't handle a revival. It rejected the magic.

 

There were times I wished my own had been so thoughtful those decades ago when Hojo worked his own sort of demonic magic to return my life to me.

 

The funeral was held several days later on the afternoon of [Yule]. Why we couldn't wait until a more suitable day, I didn't ask. It wasn't my place. Perhaps Reeve would have wanted it that way. [Yule] had always been his favorite holiday. I never even knew why.

 

Maybe it had something to do with the smiles of children. The ones he could never have. I wondered if Reeve ever felt unfulfilled. What his last thoughts were. If he regretted never having children or devoting his life to ShinRa and then the WRO. If he regretted what he shared with me.

 

There were a lot of people at the funeral, even Rufus ShinRa himself with his entourage of Turks. All of Reeve's acquaintances, and mine as well, were there. Cloud and Tifa, daughter in her arms, Cid and Shera with their own little one. Denzel was holding Cloud's hand, squeezing tightly as if recalling the deaths of his own parents. Nanaki and Barret and Marlene and Elmyra, arms still carrying the pink ribbons of memory. Yuffie looking solemn and quiet, Cait Sith held in her hands limp and lifeless without his master.

 

Blurs of black greeted my eyes, everyone dressed to mourn. Tears sparkled in many eyes, though few fell. I stood in the back, watching them all, listening to the overseer say a few words. Watched as Cloud spoke and a few others.

 

No one offered me any condolences. I didn't expect any. I didn't think anyone even knew about us.

 

And as for me, I was still trying to decide if it hurt. If the emptiness was pain or just the lack thereof.

 

I watched as they lowered his remains into the ground, the shell of a great man who was now returned to the planet. I watched my friends drop flowers and trinkets into his grave, to join the shovelfuls of dirt landing with steady thumps atop the casket. I watched the gloomy sky above, beginning to drop a few snowflakes down on the gathered crowd.

 

It was there that I realized I would have to do this, watch each and every one of my friends die while I remained behind. I looked at them, at each one, and counted how many more funerals I would be attending. Ten.

 

It was morbid and probably a little wrong of me to take count then and there, but it was it was also reality. For all of my life, I was soon going to be surrounded by death.

 

As a Turk I had reveled in it, bathed in it. Death was my life, it was my work. And now, it was my greatest enemy, it was the greatest thief in my life.

 

It was the one thing that would bring me true loneliness. The thought was even more sobering than before.

 

I waited until everyone had gone, turning their backs on the slowly filling grave and heading back towards the warmth of the sanctuary where they would talk quietly over warm cider and baked goods. My breath hit the air in whitish puffs, snowflakes dropping down into my dark hair. The wind stirred, blowing my unbound hair around me and sending a brief chill down my back. I burrowed into the big, black coat I had procured for the funeral alone.

 

The last mourner gone, I stepped forward, to the edge of the grave. Dropping the flowers I had been holding down into the grave, I said my final goodbyes to the man I had spent the last four years with.

 

I had no words to offer him. Yet, I lingered. Looking up at the snow-speckled sky. Reeve loved the snow because it covered everything in a film of white, healing. As if the world was being born anew.

 

Such a silly idea.

 

I felt the eyes on me before I even turned and stepping back a few feet from the grave so that the diggers could finish their work, I didn't even acknowledge the visitor. I knew it was Cloud who had been watching me silently. I knew he would be the only one to talk to me. I let my gaze follow the movements of the workers as Cloud's boots crunched across the ground and he drew to a halt behind me.

 

“Did you love him?”

 

Were it anyone else, I would have become angry over the blatant query. It was disrespect to the dead. But it was Cloud, the only one who knew me, what I had suffered, and how I thought. He was the closest to understanding me, and a part of what I was trying to overcome. For him to ask the question was entirely expected.

 

“I was fond of him,” I answered, not knowing how else to explain the feelings I had for Reeve.

 

They weren't bubbly and chipper, filling me with giddy delight. But there was a pleasant warmth there. A calm and peace that was always present. A feeling like home.

 

Cloud shifted behind me and then moved forward, to my side. “Why fake flowers?”

 

A smile twitched at my lips. “He once told me that he didn't like real flowers.” I paused as the memory washed over me, Reeve's voice repeating itself in my mind. “He said that while they were beautiful, they reminded him all too much of how everything was slowly wilting away inside. He preferred something more lasting.”

 

I felt the full stare of those mako blue eyes watching me. “I'm sorry, Vincent.”

 

I closed my eyes and then turned away from the grave, looking him directly in the eye. “Did everyone know?”

 

He nodded, burying his hands in the pockets of his rather light coat. The mako helped keep him warm; I knew this from experience. “Yes, but because it was you, no one wanted to say anything. Yuffie was the first to figure it out.”

 

“No surprise there.”

 

Cloud shrugged off-handedly, spikes drooping in the chill as snowflakes made their home in the blond hair. “And even if Tifa wanted to say something, I made sure she stayed quiet. I know how you value your privacy.”

 

I made a non-committal sound in my throat. “Thank you, Strife.”

 

“After all this time and you still can't call me Cloud?” He hunched his shoulders and tilted his head back, his breath making a white puff in the cold. A flake settled his lashes, but before I could answer, he continued. “What are you going to do now, Vincent?”

 

I looked up, too, watching the snow fall in increasing clumps. “I haven't decided,” I murmured, thinking of the empty apartment awaiting me. “Perhaps head to Cosmo Canyon.”

 

“You're not going to take over the WRO?” He asked me that, yet it was clear that he already knew the answer and was merely asking for the sake of it.

 

I snorted, shooting him a look from the corner of my eyes. “Why would I do such a foolish thing? Reeve has others that are more than capable of handling it.”

 

One hand dove into my pocket, reaching for the pack of cigarettes and pulling out one. For nostalgia sake. I pushed it between my lips, other hand digging for my pilfered lighter.

 

I watched Cloud watch me. “You were only in it for him anyways,” he commented, almost thoughtfully, tracing my movements.

 

There was a flick as I breathed in the first rush of nicotine, blowing the smoke into the sky to join the snow. I wondered when Cloud had gotten so perceptive.

 

“Not originally.”

 

“No, not originally,” he agreed.

 

There was a moment of companionable silence before Cloud smiled, just barely. He turned away from me, eyes catching sight of Tifa waiting for him. She lifted a hand to wave, their daughter in her other arm. Denzel stood at her side, dancing from foot to foot. It was a sign that it was time for him to go.

 

He took his hands out of his pockets, giving her a brief wave to let her know he was coming. “Try not to disappear, eh, Vincent?”

 

“Is that an order?” I couldn't help the joke, because it certainly sounded like one. The cigarette burned in my fingers, but I didn't take another drag.

 

He shook his head at me, a trace of amusement in his tone. “Yeah, that's an order.”

 

I watched as he started moving, tromping around the graves towards where Tifa was waiting on the other side of the fence. “See you.”

 

“Goodbye... Cloud.”

 

He paused, turning to look back at me before shaking his head and keeping going. I watched him walk the entire length of the graveyard before turning back towards what was left of my lover. I dropped the cigarette, grinding the tiny flame beneath my heel.

 

“I'll be there when you get home,” I murmured, barely loud enough for the wind to carry my voice, and then I turned and left as well.

 

There was nothing remaining for me here.

 

>>March 15, 2008<<

 

I abandoned the WRO after Reeve's death. There was no more reason for me to stay and I had no desire to become bodyguard for the next pencil-pusher to fill Reeve's spot. I packed up my meager belongings, locked up the apartment, and wandered for a few weeks with no destination in mind.

 

On my second circuit throughout the entire planet, I finally found a place to remain for a time. I stopped at Cosmo Canyon where Nanaki's company proved to be the most beneficial. He didn't pry into my affairs, he didn't ask questions I couldn't answer. He was a good conversationalist and best of all, he kept Tifa off my back.

 

We often sat in front of the fire in Bugenhagen's house, Nanaki curled up on the rug before the hearth, tail nearly always in the flames. I sat in a nearby chair, cup of tea steaming next to me and barely touched. It was the best place for conversation, or as some cases would have it, the lack there of.

 

It was one such night when Nanaki brought up the topic that had haunted me, though I hadn't spoken of it to anyone. It must have been the same for him.

 

“I am going to outlive everyone, Vincent.”

 

My heart skipped a beat as I sipped at my tea. I couldn't help but correct him. “Not everyone,” I said quietly into the cup, breath rippling the amber liquid.

 

Nanaki lifted his head, golden eyes taking in my unaging face, devoid of all lines. “It will be just you and me before long,” he amended, laying his maw against his crossed paws. “You and me in this vast world.”

 

“Cloud will last longer than the others,” I added, staring into the flickering orange flames trapped within the hearth. Though they were powerful, they too would eventually die. I envied them. “And then it will be me alone.”

 

“You don't know that for sure.”

 

I raised my free hand, my gaze falling on my palm. I traced the lifeline barely visible in the firelight, a line that indicated I should have already died, or so Yuffie told me according to Wutaiian tradition. I found that particularly ironic.

 

I studied the veins in my hand, barely able to hear the pulsing of my own heart. I studied everything that claimed I was alive.

 

“I can feel it,” I murmured without glancing at Nanaki. “I wonder how long this body of mine will make me suffer.”

 

I felt his eyes on me, watching and evaluating, filled with compassion. “Vincent...” But he could offer no condolences.

 

There was a moment of silence. I pondered the fragrance of my tea. I tucked my hand back out of sight. I fingered cut hair, a test to see if it would grow back or not. I was still waiting on the results.

 

“Is it really living?” I asked, out of nowhere.

 

It was a question that had long since haunted me. I was once dead, now alive. I had demons inhabiting my body. I could not die, it seemed. Was I really alive?

 

“If there is no death, what point is there in living?”

 

“All things must eventually come to an end,” Nanaki stated and it sounded as if he were quoting something. “That is what Grandfather once told me. Even the planets and the stars, which exist for millenia, eventually lose their inner drive and cease to exist. So will you one day.”

 

I closed my eyes, laying my head against the back of the chair. “To anyone else, that would be a morbid and terrible thing. To me, it sounds like hope.”

 

Nanaki chuckled. “Well, you have always been different.”

 

“I wonder if I will see the world end,” I mused to myself, not really intending for him to answer.

 

There was a pause. I heard his tail swish back and forth, in and out of the fire. “It is living, Vincent, if you find a reason.”

 

A sharp bark of sardonic laughter escaped me before I could stop it. “A reason? If only it were that simple.”

 

He made a non-commital sound in his throat, which coming from him, sounded more like a growl. “Did you feel the passing of these years you shared with Reeve, however few they were?”

 

I was quiet as I considered his words. I knew what Nanaki was implying. I never loved Reeve, but I was happy. I was content for a short while in his presence. For a man like me, that was good enough.

 

“It is getting late,” I answered, rising to my feet and stretching, causing bones to creak and pop. The tea found its way to a tray on the table that I would retrieve in the morning. “I'm heading to bed.”

 

Not that I ever slept.

 

I could feel those golden eyes watching me. “Good night, Vincent. Pleasant dreams.”

 

'If only,' I thought internally. “The same to you, Nanaki.”

 

If only.

 

>> May 23, 2004 <<

 

Human lives were even more fragile than one would think, even for the supposed heroes of the world. With our greater strength, our greater stamina, it was simply shocking to see what could lay each one of us down.

 

A construction accident spelled the end for Barret. Crushed under mountains and mountains of stone and wood and debris. It took them thirteen hours to simply dig him out, because there were none on site who could use materia effectively but the one buried. By the time they got to him, it was too late.

 

But I heard that he died a hero, pushing some poor fellow out of the way. It sounded like a Barret-thing to do.

 

He was buried next to Reeve, in the special graveyard designated for us heroes, if we so choose. Something Reeve had put together, just outside of Kalm, the only place of peace we had ever known during the struggles. From there, Cloud and Tifa could tend the graves and keep watch on them.

Everyone had given up on Midgar. Even the most determined.

 

I felt his death only in the grief of those around me. He and I were never the closest of friends, but I did attend his funeral. I watched the sorrow of my other companions, I counted funerals again.

 

Nine, now.

 

Nine more times to watch my friends fall.

 

And still I watched my own life pass me by without any sign of it ending.

 

I spent my days at Cosmo Canyon, trading philosophy with Nanaki and staring quietly at the stars through Bugenhagen's large telescope. I wandered. I destroyed random monsters and I continued to exist, living vicariously through the lives of my friends.

 

Cid and Shera were working towards a second child; he was in the midst of designing a whole new airship. Something slimmer and faster, something he could leave his legacy in. I didn't blame him.

 

Nanaki continued the search for remnants of his clan. He didn't want to be alone forever. Loneliness was a terrible, gnawing thing that ate at you, made you a lesser person. And for all his canine qualities, Nanaki was just as human as the rest of us.

 

Cloud and Tifa were happy, the latter pregnant for the second time. He hoped for a boy. Tifa just wanted another healthy baby. It was that kind of optimism that showed you just how good of a person Tifa was.

 

And Yuffie, believe it or not, was currently being courted by a whole bevy of admirers. Her father had somehow crafted leash and chain that would keep her close to home and was teaching her all the ways of Wutai. I suspected that his increasing age had inspired him to finally do so.

 

She would make a fine lady one day, and a fine leader of Wutai. Not that she didn't still disappear on occasion, only to return with some rare and unusual materia. I hoarded mine jealousy, refusing to let her even touch them. The others, though, still in love with peace, had handed most of theirs over.

 

That was fine for them. But I was going to live for a long time. I didn't know what I would have to protect myself against. I couldn't die, but that didn't mean I wanted to experience the pain of being slashed or bitten or torn in off.

 

I still wandered, having no place to call my home.

 

In my journeys, I stopped by Nibelheim, walked the shadowed and ghost-filled halls. Remembered and sought to forget the tortures impressed on me. I looked at the ground and saw remnants of bloodstains. I heard mako gurgle in its tank.

 

I walked over scraps of journals and notes of a madman's deranged scribbles. I found few data on the experimentations on my person. Most of it was probably in the ShinRa main laboratory anyways, which was the one destroyed entirely by Diamond Weapon. Not that I was morbidly curious. I didn't expect there to be a cure. I couldn't just alter my DNA back to the way it was.

 

I would forever be like this.

 

I took small satisfaction in watching the mansion burn, the firelight reflecting on my eyes as I stood just beyond the fence and shot Fire after Fire into the towering structure. Of all strengths from a fully-powered elemental, I let the place burn.

 

Let my nightmares rest in fiery torment.

 

I hoped somewhere Hojo was screaming in anger as I destroyed most of his life's work, all the information needed to create another Sephiroth. I hoped that wherever that bastard was, he was furious. That he felt even a tiny inkling of what he had done to so many others.

 

And then I burned Nibelheim. It was a ghost town anyways, with no one living there. Nothing but a lie. Just bare shadows of a place that once was. Even the ShinRa actors had long since departed, leaving empty rooms and empty houses.

 

No one complained about my acts of arson. I doubted anyone would. Not even Cloud and Tifa had something to say, though I had the feeling Cloud wished he could have watched it burn, too.

 

After Nibelheim, I continued to wander, stopping at Cosmo Canyon to check in occasionally and assuage Tifa's worries. She was the one usually concerned for my health and well-being, often trying to convince me to join gatherings. I declined most of the time, never one for mindless celebrations of nothing. Occasionally, when feeling particularly nostalgic, I would attend.

 

I would stand back and watch them move on with their lives, leaving their stamp on the world. I would watch as they aged, as they survived and lived. I wondered if it was possible for me to do the same. Sometimes, I would catch Cloud's eye and understanding passed between us.

 

That was the difference between he and I.

 

Cloud pretended. I didn't bother to.

 

In this manner, time blurred together and before I knew it, I was attending another funeral. Sooner than all of us would have expected.

 

 

a/n: Whew. On a roll.