Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ What's Left of Me ❯ Heroes Need Saving, Too ( Chapter 1 )

What's Left of Me

Chapter One

 

A/N: Well, here's my newest story! Hope y'all enjoy it! The time frame is after Sephiroth's defeat at the end of the game and before the movie. Some things are not canonal, and I apologize if the characters seem OOC.

 

Disclaimer: FF 7 is property of Square Enix. I just use it for my pleasure.

 

************************************

Tifa sighed as she set down the glass she had been cleaning. She looked around the empty bar. Another sigh escaped her lips. Another night alone, she thought.

 

Cloud was gone again, and Marlene was sleeping soundly in her room upstairs.

 

She tossed her dish rag on the counter, taking her key out. She glanced at the door, and was surprised to see it open. “I'm sorry,” she started, “we're clo—“ She stopped when she realized who it was. “Vincent?”

 

His crimson eyes traveled around the empty room before resting on her. “Am I intruding?” he asked softly.

 

Tifa shook her head quickly. “No,” she said brightly. “Not at all. I'm always glad to see my friends.” She watched him walk slowly toward her, his crimson eyes slowly traveling around the room, as if scanning for any signs of other life. “Can I get you anything?”

 

His crimson eyes locked with hers as he sat at the bar. He seemed to be searching for something, and when he found it he looked away. “Something strong,” he said finally. He let his hand rest on the counter and stared at it.

 

Tifa stared at him a moment. He was acting more stranger than usual. She turned away slowly, wondering what was on his mind. She lifted a bottle of whiskey from under the bar, pouring him a shot. She turned back to him, holding out the glass to him.

 

“You sure, Vincent?” she asked softly, her eyes worried. “I know you don't normally drink.”

 

Again his eyes met hers. He was silent, his gaze calculating. After a moment, though, his eyes softened, and he looked away. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, lacking its tough edge. “Can I talk to you?” he asked.

 

She set the glass down, resting her elbow on the bar. “Sure,” she said softly. She was slightly surprised. Since when did he want to talk?

 

“Tifa,” he sighed, “have you ever felt alone?”

 

She glanced around the empty bar, then thought of Cloud. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Plenty of times.”

 

“And have you ever lost someone you cared about?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

 

She stiffened, thinking of Aeris. “Yes,” she said. She and Aeris had become friends, and it hurt her more than she thought it would when Aeris was taken.

 

Vincent looked up at her, reading her face. “Tifa,” he said quietly.

 

She met his crimson gaze.

 

“Does it ever go away?” he asked.

 

Confusion crossed her dark eyes.

 

“The pain,” he said at her look.

 

She gave a little smile. “Cloud once asked me the same thing,” she said softly, a hint of sadness in her voice.

 

Vincent's eyes were still locked with hers, begging for an answer. “What did you tell him?”

 

“Only if you let it, Vince,” she said, touching his hand. “Only if you let it.”

 

His eyes shifted to her hand on his. “Only if I let it?” he mumbled. He again looked at Tifa. “Then I shall try.”

 

Tifa nodded, removing her hand as he stood. “Are you going so soon?” she asked, trying to hide the sadness. She was surprised that she wanted him to stay. Maybe Cloud's long absences were finally getting to her.

 

He nodded, his eyes trained on hers. He heard the hurt in her voice, but he couldn't stay tonight. He had some things to come to terms with. This night was the one when he tried to avoid people at all costs. It was the anniversary of her death, and it always hit him hard, sweeping him away from everyone.

 

“Well, let me know how things go, okay?” she said, trying to sound upbeat.

 

He nodded once more, his eyes shifting to the door. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

 

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “For what?”

 

He turned away from her, walking to the door. He paused before he opened it. “Hope,” he said quietly.

 

She tilted her head, even more confused.

 

“Goodbye, Tifa,” he said softly, before disappearing into the darkness.

 

She stared after him, speechless. For the first time in a long time, she was worried about him. Whatever was on his mind had him separated from the world. She could tell when she looked into his eyes. He had never been a man of many words, but his eyes were always a portal into his soul.

 

When he stepped into her bar tonight, the first thing she noticed was the blank look in his crimson eyes. And the pain. Even if he had not said anything, she would have known; he was hurting. And he was either too proud or too scared to let anyone notice. But, she thought, he opened up to me tonight. Perhaps he is letting us in a little at a time. She glanced at the door. Maybe he is realizing that even heroes need saving.