Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Chronicles of Valentine ❯ Chapter Five ( Chapter 5 )

a/n: Timeline's going to speed up again. Be prepared.

 

Chronicles of Valentine

--September 17, 2004--

 

I was exploring the Ancient Forest south of Cosmo Canyon when my phone rang, somehow managing to catch one of the thin moments where I had reception. I knew that sound, my cell only making noise when it carried bad news. No one ever called me just to chat, since I wasn't the type for it.

 

Before I even answered, I morbidly wondered which friend I had lost this time. I expected to hear that more of the Turks had been lost. After all, both Rude and Elena were taken out in a bombing last spring, not long after Barret's accident. Protecting the President to the very end. They were probably content with their deaths.

 

I had gone to their funeral, had attended as a former Turk and had watched as Reno and Tseng remained stoic. As Rufus watched with something akin to grief on his face. The Turks were all he had left after all. His family and his company and his friends. The loss might have affected him. I wouldn't know. I didn't stick around to ask him to talk about his feelings.

 

I flipped open the phone and held it to my ear, the person on the other end taking that as a cue to speak. I recognized, in an instant, the voice pouring through the speaker, thick with grief.

 

“Vince.”

 

I inclined my head, idly fitting a new clip into one of my guns. Out of sheer boredom I had emptied an entire series of rounds into the local bestiary. But I didn't want to be caught by anything without ammunition.

 

“Who was it?” I asked in a clipped tone, a part of me relieved to hear Cid's voice. Because that meant it wasn't his funeral I was about to attend.

 

It was callous and cold of me to think that way, perhaps, but it was the truth. I felt Reeve's absence of my life. I barely noticed Barret's. I had mourned his death as the loss of a comrade, as the world lost a good man. But it was an inevitability that I could more easily accept than Reeve's sudden departure from the living world.

 

Perhaps it was because part of me had grown complacent, had grown to accept the relationship I had with Reeve. Had maybe even wanted it, secretly hoped deep down that it would last and form something beyond my scope. That could even be why Reeve was taken so soon. My punishment for daring to think optimistically.

 

Some god out there was laughing cruelly, I was certain of it.

 

There was a moment of silence, followed by a low curse. “Damn, Vince. Don't go askin' it like that to anyone else. They won't get it.” I heard a harsh sigh, and imagined Cid was running fingers through his hair, getting them caught on his goggles. It was a habit of his. “Especially Cloud.”

 

Without having to ask, I knew in an instant the identity.

 

The gun found its way to its holster in one smooth motion and I dropped down from the giant boulder I had scaled, landing in the midst of the unpaved road. “Tifa, then.”

 

Cid cursed again, but whether it was directed towards me or whatever circumstance had stolen Tifa's vibrant life from this world, I wasn't sure. I never claimed to fully understand the mind behind a man like Captain Cid Highwind.

 

He went on to explain exactly what had happened as I made my way towards Cosmo Canyon, where Cid - or one of his affiliates - planned on picking up both Nanaki and I. As I listened, commenting when appropriately, I examined my own feelings on that matter.

 

Tifa is... was a kind person. And I thought, on some level, that she might have wanted to help fix me, the same way she had always empathized for Cloud. A perpetual optimistic with a heart of warm of gold, that described Tifa. She was a fierce fighter, and would kill to protect her friends, but even that didn't cover the gentleness that was her nature.

 

I believed that if she had been just a bit more tainted, just a bit more unkind, I might have gotten to know her a little bit better. But as it were, she reminded me too much of Lucrecia. As such, I avoided being around her too much, and the gatherings that she always seemed to arrange. I preferred my solitude to her mothering, to her attempts to help me find peace.

 

She simply didn't understand that it was something I had to find on my own, if it even existed. But that sort of conclusion was an utter impossibility so long as I could not die. What purpose was there in a life that never ended? What point was there in living?

 

It was an inner battle she could not help me with. And part of her might have been disappointed by that. Because there was nothing more that Tifa wanted than to see those she cared about - even if only platonic - happy.

 

Her loss would be one that everyone felt, across the entire world, I was certain.

 

Amidst the cursing and the occasional interruption of shouted commands to his subordinates, I gleaned the basics of what had happened from Cid. She had died of complications during childbirth, bringing her young daughter in the world. I was relieved to know that her child had at least survived. Because I knew it would make Tifa happy, even if she did have to leave Cloud behind.

 

“How's Cloud?” I asked, interrupting Cid's babble. Sometimes, it was better to be rude than listen to him ramble which eventually degenerated into meaningless curse words. Over the years, I had grown adept at knowing when to intervene and when to wait patiently for him to run out of steam.

 

There was a pause in the conversation. “He's... I dunno. Y'know the kid. He still don't talk about anything.”

 

I had to shake my head at that. All these years and Cid still called them 'kids'. Yuffie and Tifa and Cloud... all of them were kids to him. And I suppose he had a point.

 

“And the babe?”

 

“Healthy as an ox.” Cid grunted, and I heard the familiar flick of lighter to cigarette.

 

Shera would fuss if she knew, but since the Captain had given up of his own free will, I wouldn't tell. He probably needed it at the moment, Tifa's passing a reminder of his own mortality. Was it so morbid of me to wish that I had that same fear? Instead, I wallowed in the realization that I had one less companion, that an eventual loneliness was looming ever closer. And for a brief moment, I wished that I had attended that last get-together that Tifa had put together.

 

“And damn if she isn't pretty, Vince. Makes me wish I had managed to have a little girl.”

 

I did chuckle at that. Most father's would have been proud of managing to brood three sons, not that Cid wasn't. But I could hear the paternal longing in Cid's voice - not something that I ever really expected to hear. I supposed the idea of a daughter, blinking up at him cutely and calling him 'daddy' was in the appeal. Considering I was never going to have any children of my own, I didn't entirely understand.

 

Running a hand through my hair which had regrown as I suspected it would, I redirected the conversation. “When is the funeral?”

 

“In a few days. We wanted ta make sure ya could make it.”

 

That had to have been Cid's urging. Or perhaps Cloud's. I would expect something like that of Tifa but since the funeral was for her... Or maybe I was just underestimating my companions and their affections for me. Perhaps I was the only one who treated them so coldly and the rest was just my futile hope.

 

I inclined my head, though Cid couldn't see it, glancing at the landscape around me. Cosmo Canyon was just over the next two ridges. I would be there in only a few hours.

 

“Thanks, Cid. I'll express my condolences when I see Cloud in person.”

 

“He'll be glad to hear them,” Cid returned, and I could tell that even he was upset by Tifa's death. She had been like a mothering figure to all of us, a stable presence in our lives. “See ya then, Vin.”

 

I shook my head at his nickname for me, having never managed to convince him to use my whole name every time. “Goodbye, Highwind,” I replied, and promptly ended the call.

 

Tucking the phone carefully back into my pocket, I released the heavy sigh I had been holding. Another life taken by the cruelties of mortality. I had the weighty thought that I wished I suffered from it as well. But I kept such hopes to himself. I had the feeling that they would be unwelcome to my friends, who wanted just a few more moments with their loved ones.

 

I attended Tifa's funeral, standing in the back of a huge press of people. No matter how much Cloud had wanted to keep it private, there were simply too many who loved the vivacious barmaid. He couldn't keep them all away. And as such, the procession was packed. The cemetery was surrounded by the public, all wanting to say their goodbyes to Tifa.

 

She had been a giving person, and many in the crowd reflected that. Each had a story to tell of how she had helped them in some way. Advice. A free meal. A place to stay for the night. Help in finding a job. Whatever they needed, she had always selflessly provided it. And I wasn't surprised in the slightest to hear it.

 

She was that kind of person, who had never been able to turn away someone in need. She thought she could fix anyone if she just gave them a little affection, a helping hand. I know she thought the same of me. I wondered if it upset her, to have died without being able to “fix” me as she had wanted.

 

I watched Cloud as well, watched as he clutched onto one child's hand and held the other in his arms. Quiet. Never crying, solemn in the face of their mother's death. As if the babe knew that one life had been given for another and knew to be respectful of that.

 

And in Cloud's face, I couldn't see anything. He was carefully blank, though eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Trying to be strong for the sake of... well, everything, most likely. Cloud always did have a problem expressing himself sanely.

 

I wondered if he faced the same problem as myself. I knew that he cared for Tifa, he never would have married her if he didn't. But did he love her? Was he like me? Did he hold affection for his wife, but couldn't find it in him to love?

 

I knew he was grieving. I could see it in every tremble of his fingers and every time he chewed on his bottom lip. But was it the heart-clenching, nauseating grief of losing someone you truly loved? That I didn't know. And I wasn't so callous as to ask.

 

I left before the procession was finished, unable to abide by the crowds and crowds of people striving to make their final offerings. The press was too much for my comfort, and it was safer to simply wait until the surges of strangers had stopped. I watched from afar and waited until late evening, when the last stragglers departed. Only then did I say my own goodbye, standing over Tifa's grave.

 

Loving wife and mother. Friend to all.

 

That was what her gravestone said. And I couldn't help but smile a bit at the sight. Yes, friend to all. Even self-enclosed, once-dead monsters raised from a coffin and brought to the world of the living again. I thought, in that moment, that we had considered Aeris our hope all those years ago against Sephiroth. But now, I began to think that maybe we hadn't seen what was right before our eyes.

 

I wondered if Tifa ever thought she was only second-best. That she strove to be so kind and giving because she wanted to be needed the way we had all looked to Aeris. I wondered if she ever looked at Cloud and knew what he was thinking, knew that she couldn't an innocent flower-girl from the slums. I wondered if she ever cursed her lot in life.

 

And then I realized I was just projecting my own dissatisfactions and resolved to stop wondering.

 

I crouched, brushed my fingers over the carved words of Tifa's headstone, and then set my own gift over the recently filled dirt. In one of the few clear spots I could find and right next to a few folded sheets of paper, bright colors peeking from the sides.

 

I rose to my feet, tucked my hands in my pockets, and looked down. My murmured 'sleep well' was carried away on the wind. And then I was gone, leaving the mourning to those who actually carried Tifa in their heart.

 

--January 3, 2031--

 

I was there this time. There when one of my friends succumbed to the pull of inevitably and allowed death to claim them. Not that Cid didn't go down kicking and screaming, only giving in to lung cancer when it was clear his body wasn't going to take anything else. All those years of smoking cigarettes had finally caught up to him. And I didn't have the heart to say I told you so.

 

I had received the news six months earlier, Cid calling me to tell me himself of the diagnosis. But I believed in Cid's strength, in his determination. He was a member of AVALANCHE after all. He was like the rest of us. Strong. But he was also mortal, and sometimes, I think I forgot that.

 

Or maybe I wanted to believe he was unbeatable because he was one of the few in the world I actually did care for. Cid was my platonic friend, the one man I never saw in a sexual manner. I could rely on him and trust him. I could talk to him.

 

Ashamedly, I admit that I ran when I was first told. I stayed away for all those months, not wanting to see my best friend wasting away. I didn't want to see how weak he had become because it hurt too much. It was striking, just how much I felt Cid's oncoming death but had only been able to feel numb at Reeve's. The many kinds of grief.

 

I regained my senses after a scathing phone call from Shera. She had been upset, her children had been upset, but she had bothered to take the time to call me. To tell me that her husband would have liked it if I was there. And I couldn't deny her. I couldn't deny him.

 

I left my temporary campsite in the wide and empty fields outside the Chocobo Ranch and made my way back to Junon. He had been moved there after the illness had progressed so far that hospitalization was necessary. I felt guilty that it had taken me that long to stop being so afraid. He had even made sure that none of the doctors around him wore the coats that I so hated.

 

I was there for the last week of his life, a dark and silent presence in his hospital room. We talked and it was just like old times, he goading me and I not rising to the bait. I played cards with him, endured his constant cursing, and watched him enjoy the rest of his life. He never once lamented his fate, never once cursed kami or grew angry. I admired him for that strength.

 

I remembered one such conversation. It was late at night and Cid was suffering from insomnia due to all the medicine they were pumping into his body in hopes of extending his life just a bit longer. I suspected any day now that he was simply going to tell them to stop. It wasn't worth the pain and the discomfort. He'd rather die happy and coherent.

 

“Yanno, Vince,” he began, puffing away on his cigarette. He was already dying, he had claimed, so let him enjoy his burst of nicotine. It wasn't as if they could do any worse. “I worry about you sometimes.”

 

I paused in the midst of channel surfing, trying to find something the both of us could enjoy and mock thoroughly. Perhaps an old horror movie. “Why is that?” I wondered aloud, glancing once at him from the corner of my eyes before continuing in clicking the remote.

 

He shifted on the bed, making a face when pain spiked through his chest, only to subside again. If he breathed in too deeply, too suddenly, it often caused him to hurt like that. I pretended not to notice, knowing just how much Cid didn't like weakness being thrust in his face. Even now, he was sensitive about his age. Though I suspected he was happier dying of cancer than of something like old age.

 

Cid looked at me, normally bright blue eyes dull with fatigue and failing health. “You've never moved on. Not like the rest 'o us.” He took another puff of his cigarette. “And the last time you were happy, Reeve was still alive.”

 

I stiffened, television pausing on some sort of cooking show. Honestly, who cooked at two in the morning. The mundane thought passed through my mind and I realized I was stalling. I knew what Cid was getting at, and I was afraid to face it.

 

“Is that so?” I asked, and the chill in my voice made even me blink in surprise. I didn't want to be like that towards Cid.

 

He recognized it, but like he usually did, he ignored it. “Yeah. That's so.” After a final puff, he ground out the cigarette, only half-smoked. “I don't know what all Hojo did to ya, and I ain't gonna ask 'cause that's a man's business. But I don't like seein' ya like this, either.”

 

I sighed, and finally gave up my channel-surfing, leaving it on some infomercial as I laid down the remote and turned to Cid. The look in his eyes was both wary and hopeful, full of concern for me. I couldn't find it in me to be angry.

 

“I haven't aged, Cid,” I said, having been keeping to familiarities. I didn't want to play the formal game while he was on his deathbed. “And I don't think I ever will.”

 

He peered at me. “Ya sayin' yer immortal?”

 

I shrugged, not liking the topic at all. I looked past him, towards the window where curtains were parted to reveal the vastness of a black sky. Only broken by the lights of the rest of Junon and the faint sparkle of the moon over the ocean's waves. It should have been a tranquil scene. To me it stank far too much of death, just like this hospital room.

 

“Probably,” I admitted. “So all that moving on everyone has embraced, I don't find it possible.” I didn't know why it was easy to admit this to Cid. Probably because I knew he wouldn't spill the secret. Nor would he badger me about it. “I'm still stuck at twenty-seven, still locked in Hojo's basement and I don't think I'll ever break free.”

 

I hated myself for the slightly wistful tone my voice had taken. And I know Cid noticed it, because for a second there, his face slackened with sympathy. Something I never wanted to get from him. Not that or pity. I just wanted an uncomplicated friendship.

 

I looked away from him, the sudden urge to flee rising again. I couldn't bear sympathy and pity. My circumstances were of my own making. If I hadn't been so foolish then. If I had been better prepared as a Turk should have been. If I had protected Lucrecia. This life, this body, it was my penance. I didn't deserve that mercy.

 

“Then, it's time to move on, isn't it?” Cid asked, his rough voice finally shifting through the thick quiet that had gathered between us. “You're not in that place anymore, Vince. Ya burnt it down. It doesn't exist. You should try to live.”

 

I frowned, feeling something squirm uncomfortably inside of me. “I can't live when I exist like this,” I said. “Living is for those who actually have death to fear.”

 

“You don't know that you can't die.”

 

He had a point. Why did Cid pick now to be so reasonable? Where was the man who had once jumped onto a runaway train with a half-assed plan in mind and managed to stop it on pure luck alone? Where did this logic come from?

 

I rolled my eyes. “Are you saying I should test it?”

 

He gave me a look that he normally reserved for his children and I couldn't help but feel just a bit offended. “Don't be stupid, Vince. I'm just saying. Stop locking yourself up or you'll never live for anything.”

 

“You sound like Tifa,” I muttered, wondering if Cid thought he should take her place since the brunette was no longer there to try and convince me of hope.

 

“Well, she was right,” he retorted in that usual, no-nonsense Highwind tone that left little room for argument. Even thin and balding, with hair a silver-grey, he still commanded respect. And I was hard-pressed not to listen.

 

I shifted position in a chair that was no longer comfortable, wishing for a cigarette of my own. This conversation was too heavy for the both of us. He didn't need to spend his final days worrying about me. And I didn't want to spend his final days discussing something like this.

 

Cid sighed, and it sounded raspy. Wheezing. Too close to weak for my comfort. “I can't worry about ya after I'm gone is all, Vince. And someone needs to.”

 

I wanted to snort derisively. I refrained because it was Cid. “Like someone to come home to?” I questioned, unable to keep the trace of bitterness from my voice. It was sarcastic, and I honestly didn't expect him to agree to something so bathetic.

 

“Yeah,” he responded to my utmost surprise. “Exactly that. I see ya alone, Vince, and it ain't a happy sight. I don't want that for my best buddy.”

 

The warmth that broke into my chest at being called his closest friend very nearly shattered the ice I had been carefully crafting to protect myself. The anger I was cautiously cultivating sputtered and died. I exhaled loudly and picked up the remote again, calmly returning to my channel surfing and looking for something a bit more interesting. Maybe late-night/early-morning cartoons.

 

Silence descended, but it was more comfortable this time. I waited until I finally selected a show and settled back in my chair before responding.

 

“Thank you,” I said to him softly, but when I turned to look, Cid had fallen asleep. I instantly quieted, not wanting to disturb him.

 

I rose to my feet, tucked his blankets around him and frowned at the sound of his labored breathing. He had grown quite pale as well. And I knew, just then, that it wasn't long before he was destined to leave Gaia and return to the Life Stream. For the first time, I didn't envy someone for their death.

 

A sound in the doorway distracted me and I looked to see Shera standing there, worry etched into her lined features. I politely excused myself and left her to oversee her husband, my own mind a turmoil of thoughts. Cid had given me much to think about. So I headed to the cafeteria for a cup of warm tea to bury myself in consideration.

 

In the morning, Cid was gone, just as I had suspected.

 

I stood there as Shera wept, even though she had known it was coming. As his children lamented their father's passing, and his grand-children cried. I was a silent presence in the background, mourning the loss of my best friend. I couldn't offer them comfort because I had none to give. But I could share their grief.

 

I felt Cid's absence more strongly. He was the nearest thing I had to a best friend, to family, if I wanted to be honest with myself. Cloud was someone who understood me. Nanaki was a suitable conversationalist. The others were mere associates. But Cid was an actual friend.

 

Suffering the funeral in silence, I held onto the pain Cid's death had caused me. I nearly cherished the ache, convinced that it was all the proof I needed to show I really was alive. I still could feel, despite what Hojo had done for me and my heart that Lucrecia still owned. It was as if I had lost a sibling.

 

Afterwards, shuffling along after the crowd, I later attended the wake. Simply because I knew Cid would have wanted me to. I made my way to Shera after most of the others had offered their words. Only then did I give my condolences, finding them the honest truth.

 

To my surprise, she returned them.

 

Her hand sat gentle on mine, soft and wrinkling with oncoming age. Brown eyes looked up at me, filled with grief, but also understanding. “You loved him, too,” she told me, and there wasn't a trace of bitterness or jealousy in her tone. “In your own way, Vincent.”

 

And for her words, I had nothing to say, nothing to return. It was true, and even I knew it. Cid was very dear to my heart.

 

Then and there, I made myself a promise. I would watch over Shera, even if from afar. If she and her children needed anything, I would do my best to support them. They were the most important existences to Cid, and the most I could do to repay him was protect that.

 

I offered Shera a small smile for her kind words and kissed her hand. After that, I excused myself from the wake, unwanting to hear the condolences of the others. And though I felt the heavy gaze of bright blue eyes, I didn't stop to speak to Cloud. I wanted to finish the rest of my grieving in peace.

 

I wandered out of the wake and the gathered people, all who had come to say farewell to the famed Captain Highwind, and headed to the outskirts of Rocket Town. I stood in the shadows of the rusting remnants of the ShinRa No. 26's resting place. I let the cold wind whip around me, making me shiver, and I thought about dreams. Not just mine, but Cid's and everyone else's.

 

I lifted my hand, free of that unattractive claw which I only kept when wandering the monster-filled landscape, and brushed scarred fingers over the metal. Flakes of rust flittered down, before being caught in the wind and carried away. The iron was freezing cold to my touch, consequence of the bitter winter temperatures. A dream made real, that was what this rotting monument said to me.

 

I thought that it was kind of nice that Cid had been able to live his dream, to journey to space and fly amongst the stars. I thought about how I really didn't have any dreams or aspirations or goals. Which was a painful reminder that I really was just existing. And I considered doing something about that, for the sake of a dying man's last hope.

 

It was there that I said my goodbyes. For though Cid was buried in Kalm, the wake had been several days later in Rocket Town. And his body might have been in the earth, and his soul returned to the Lifestream, but I honestly believed that what really mattered of him was here. With the remnant of his dream.

 

“Thank you,” I said, and left it at that. I knew that Cid wouldn't have wanted to hear long lines of prose. Pansy, mushy shit, he usually called it. And even that thought was enough to bring a small, grieving smile to my lips.

 

This was one loss I wasn't going to easily shake off.

 

--August 12, 2035--

 

I no longer counted the time in years. I started to number them by deaths. By the loss of my companions, of those that I had once risked life and limb alongside to save our world. Not just once, but twice.

 

The numbers were dwindling with each decade, leaving me suffering in an increasing loneliness. Another funeral came, stealing upon us without warning, making me wonder if any of us would die of natural causes. I supposed, however, that the best karma could do was give us a death we would be proud of.

 

Except myself.

 

On a warm day, at the last lingering traces of summer and the opening chords of fall, I stood at yet another funeral. I counted them in my head. I felt the numbness inside spread just a bit further, sinking into my joints.

 

Materia-hunting. I supposed it was a death that would make Yuffie proud. Even more so since the little gem she had died to obtain, had emerged unscathed and was now on prominent display in Wutai. I had stopped to see it, staring intently at the crimson sphere. A summon materia. An incredibly rare summon materia.

 

I could just see the ecstasy in her face, the pride blossoming from every pore. Her family had certainly been pleased. Her children - yes, Yuffie had children. I couldn't believe it either - stared at the small gem with glowing gazes and sparkling expressions. Tear stains marked their young faces, but they were proud, and that was all that mattered. They loved their mother, they missed her, but she had left them a legacy. They would never forget her, and neither would the world.

 

The words of the man presiding over the funeral washed over me. Here, in Wutai, a place that was bittersweet to me, I still stood at the back of the crowd. Somehow, I felt it wasn't my place to stand with the others. A silent shadow in the background, lingering to offer my condolences and say my final goodbyes, but otherwise invisible. That was my purpose. And what could I offer to the bereaved but apathy? In many ways, I envied those companions of mine that I had lost. Because they had seen the end of their lives and I could only wonder if I ever would.

 

A wind whipped through the proceedings, tugging at the folds of my long coat and flicking my hair around my face. It smelled and tasted clean, bringing with it the crisp freshness of oncoming autumn. It was a perfectly beautiful day. I hunched my shoulders against the chill anyways and watched as everyone said their final goodbyes. Most were strangers to me. Everyone but the lingering remains of those of us who helped to save the world.

 

As always, I waited until everyone had cleared the area, returning to their families and homes, before I stepped forward. One gloved hand emerged from my pocket, a fully-powered materia dancing on my fingers. I watched the small globe roll around my palm, catching the sunlight with brilliant sparkles, before lifting my gaze to the etched stones in front of me.

 

Unlike the others, Yuffie hadn't been buried, but entombed in the family shrine like the rest of her family. Like Godo before her when he had fallen to a heart attack and her own mother, who had fallen in the middle of war.

 

I flicked the materia back and forth in my fingers, and then placed it carefully amongst the other vases and offerings. It glinted a deep jade. I wouldn't miss it, and it was the type of thing that Yuffie would have loved to steal from me were she still among the living. I thought it would make her laugh if she knew I was now freely giving it to her.

 

I was so certain she would enjoy my gift.

 

With that finished, I had every intention of leaving again, though my destination was still unclear. Perhaps back to Cosmo Canyon. Or even returning to my own wandering until another such occasion came again. Until another funeral.

 

I felt Cloud's presence behind me before he even spoke. The weight of those blue eyes on my back had always carried a certain energy that I could always sense. There was something within Cloud, something that seemed to resonate between us, that made it impossible for me to not recognize him.

 

“You always stand in the back,” he asked softly, and I knew he was curiously watching the lines of my shoulders. “Why?”

 

I didn't really have an answer for that which would make sense to Cloud. I just knew that I didn't belong up there with the rest of the mourners. Not with those who actually cared. Especially when I couldn't find the crack of the ice over my heart to even feel grief. I simply felt empty with each new passing, the loneliness filling in every new hole.

 

Cloud didn't take my lack of answer offensively, barreling forward with that same determination I had seen him use against everything in his path. “Where have you been since...?”

 

“Since Tifa's funeral?” I finished for him, turning to face the blond.

 

He was standing with arms shoved deep into his pockets, nearly buried in an over-sized jacket. Shorter spikes still managed to stick up straight from his head. And he didn't look a day over thirty thanks to the materia. The last vestiges of the young boy he had seemed at twenty-one had matured into the man he was now. He no longer seemed so delicate and frail, incapable of lifting that monstrous sword.

 

He tilted his head to the head. “Yes.”

 

I shrugged dismissively, feet crunching over the ground as I moved to his side. “Cosmo Canyon mostly,” I answered, and unconsciously, we began to move together, heading out of the area housing the Kisaragi family shrine. “But now that Nanaki has found Lycana...”

 

I trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. After all, I'd had no real destination in mind. I could easily pick up and move, making my existence nomadic once more. I had no real attachments to any place, every one I once knew either dead or soon to be so.

 

My fingers suddenly itched for a cigarette, though I resisted the impulse. I wanted that rush of nicotine to remind me that I was still alive, to remind me of the time I spent with Reeve. When I had been a real person and not just a living corpse, like my current condition.

 

“Come home with me.”

 

The statement took me by complete surprise. I blinked, looking at him. Certainly it was possible. His children had grown, married, moved out of the house, leaving their father to the loneliness of his large and empty home. His wife was gone, and just like myself, his friends were all dying around him. He would live long after they were gone, possibly even longer than some of his grandchildren.

 

He paused just outside the gate, turning to look up at me. “We're outliving them all, Vincent,” Cloud continued, his voice nostalgic and his blue eyes unnaturally bright, nearly glimmering with the hint of mako. I wondered if he brought it to the surface on purpose. “Soon it will be just you, me, and Nanaki.”

 

“And then me alone,” I added, but it was said so quietly, I wasn't sure if he noticed. I buried my lower face in the collar of my coat as I watched Cloud, obviously searching for the words he wanted.

 

The wind kicked up, shoving fallen petals in our faces, but neither of us moved. “I'm tired of being alone. I miss Tifa. I miss... warmth. And I'm tired of denying who I am.”

 

I understood perfectly. But I asked all the same. “And who are you?”

 

I wanted to know if he realized as much as he thought he did. If he knew just what he was getting himself into.

 

His eyes met mine, so big and bright, and very nearly like the youth I had met those many years ago, looking down at me as I woke from my endless sleep. “A man in love with his greatest enemy,” he nearly whispered, stepping closer and lowering his tone even further. His gaze fell to the safety of the leaf-covered ground. “A man who married a woman he didn't love so she would be happy. A man who... who...”

 

I understood completely. I knew what he was trying to say. And I was comforted and assured by that. Cloud knew what he was after all. Maybe we were more alike than I had thought.

 

“A man who can never see beyond the past he won't let go of,” I finished for him quietly, my words dropping heavy between us.

 

Cloud nodded slowly. “Yes,” he answered simply. “A past I can't and won't ever forget.”

 

The air between us felt very heavy, rift with expectations. I asked myself if I was ready for this, for another relationship. To give myself to something that had an expiration date. If I wanted to face that pain again. Losing Reeve still echoed in me, though it had been more than thirty years ago. I could still remember him so clearly. Remember the feeling of home being with him had evoked in me.

 

I thought of Cid, and what he had said to me. How I needed to try living and not existing. How I deserved to find happiness and should take it when it come, rather than warily making my exit. How he was probably worrying about me even now, in his own gruff and stubborn way.

 

A man's dying wish.

 

I thought that I would have that cigarette after all, and reached into my pocket for one. I lifted the stick to my lips, digging around for matches. I heard a snick, the smell of sulfur filled the air, and then Cloud was offering to light it for me. Something unreadable in his gaze. I tilted my head in thanks and watched the tip flare orange.

 

I breathed deep of the nicotine and wished the effects were more lasting. Beside me, Cloud watched and I had an impulse. Wordlessly, I tapped out the pack and handed him one of my stock. He took it with an inclination of his head and lit it himself. I hadn't even known he smoked. I said as much.

 

He shrugged, tapping off excess ashes with efficient and practiced motions. “I don't,” he said, bringing the cigarette to his lips and despite myself, I couldn't help but watch the motion. Cloud was an attractive man. “But Zack did. And there are still remnants of him lingering inside of me.”

 

I think that I understood.

 

I let the cigarette smoke surround us before turning to look at Cloud, glad for the absence of others around us. The grounds were pretty much deserted at this point, everyone having gone inside for the wake and the last celebration that would serve as Yuffie's final goodbye. That was the Wutaiian way, after all.

 

“Cloud,” I began, catching his eyes with his own. “What do you want out of this?”

 

It sounded callous on second thought, but it was what needed to be ask. Cloud didn't often get something that was too subtle, and I thought that it was better this way anyways. I didn't want to waste time trying to figure something out when I was the only one who actually had forever.

 

Blue eyes met me evenly, so deep I could drown in them. “To not be alone anymore,” he said simply. “And to be understood without the weight of expectations. You're the only one who can do both.”

 

I dropped my cigarette to the dirt and ground a heel over it to quench the flame. “Shared comfort?” I stated by way of question.

 

He nodded, stepping nearer and closing the distance between us. He hadn't managed to gain any height, not that I expected he would, and I was forced to shift my head downwards. I watched as he puffed one last time on the cigarette, then flicked it away, the butt landing in a small puddle of water from the prior night's rain.

 

“If you want to call it that,” he said, and the air between us suddenly became very heavy.

 

I was intensely aware of his closeness, of the light scent of his cologne and the brightness of his eyes. I was reminded that the last time I had touched another human in that manner was Reeve, more than thirty years ago. And I craved that contact, craved the feeling of running my hand over another's warm skin. I wanted to touch Cloud's, touch the fragility that bore strength.

 

I tipped my head to the side, proud of my restraint. “And no expectations?”

 

He paused, seeming to consider this. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, shoulders hunching against the brief flash of chill wind. “Does it ever go away?”

 

Confused by the change from answer to query, I blinked. “What?”

 

“The pain, the loneliness, the... regret,” he clarified, and I could tell that they were all emotions weighing heavily on his heart. Cloud was a man who lived in his guilt, much like himself. Which was probably why I understood him so well.

 

I thought about it, searching my own emotions. “No,” I finally replied quietly, thinking of the burdens I still bore, even all these years later. “It never does. But it gets lighter... easier to bear.”

 

“Is that so?” he asked, looking up at me, and there was something like a wanting in his gaze. A desire that he fully intended to pursue.

 

I admit that my stomach tightened in anticipation at the sight. “So I have come to learn.”

 

And then he was kissing me, pressing those lips against mine and shoving his body up to mine with voracity. His fingers tangled in my hair and he held my head close, refusing to end the kiss, not that I was particularly inclined either. I opened my mouth to his voracious hunger, letting him plunder me with his incessant tongue, letting him grind against me.

 

I let the vitality that Cloud still carried wash over me, his overwhelming sense of life. Unlike myself, Cloud hadn't given in. He still embraced living, still clung to every beat of his heart. He didn't just exist, he lived, in every meaning of the word. And while the past was still heavy in his heart, and his own failures still clung to the back of his mind, he didn't let them rule his present.

 

I think I envied him for that freedom.

 

I curled my arm around Cloud's waist, dragged him closer to my body, and dove into his taste. I sampled what I would soon have near to me everyday, if I accepted Cloud's offer. And in the back of my mind, I knew that I wouldn't be turning him down. Turning this down. If there was one person on this planet who could understand, it was Cloud. I would be a fool to say no.

 

The kiss ended with the both of us flushed and faintly breathless, a hungry sort of desire sparked to life. Like me, Cloud had also been without a lover's touch for quite some time. Or at least, I assumed so. I couldn't be certain he hadn't had flings between now and Tifa's passing.

 

With a grin threatening to break his lips, Cloud looked up at me. “I take it that's a yes?” he questioned mildly, raising one brow.

 

I didn't answer with words. I kissed him instead. Cloud was a man of action after all. He would understand that far better than anything I could say.

 

And so it began.

 

* * *

 

a/n: Again, sorry for the length of time between updates. I only work on this story sporadically, so it doesn't receive as much attention as my other fics. But I have a fondness for it, so it will be finished. I do hope you enjoyed!