Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Fragments ❯ Chapter Five ( Chapter 5 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Chapter 5



"No, wait!! Please, mister, don't kill me!" cried the clerk from behind the counter. He hid his face from behind a shield of hands, and the other loyal patrons of the grocery store in Nibelheim looked up in surprise.

Pulling a black leather wallet out of his pocket, a very irritated Vincent Valentine shook his head, his lustrous black hair falling over his eyes, as if sympathizing with his inky mood. "I am afraid you misunderstood," he said coolly, raising the wallet for all to see. "I was merely extracting my wallet to pay for the groceries." Lord, he was getting tired of the way people cowered in front of him like terrorized mice under the watchful eye of a barn owl. But the only people who hadn't been intimidated by him were forever out of his life. "I have no weapon." *At least,* he thought wryly, *not in plain view.*

The clerk's shoulders relaxed slightly, and he muttered an apology as he took the money from his customer's human hand. Vincent picked up the paper bag of food and walked out, trying to ignore the dozens of pairs of frightened eyes that were glued to his metallic arm.

As he travelled solemnly up the path to the Shin-ra mansion, his mind unavoidably took a fabricated path of its own, journeying back to the last time he had been in Nibelheim. What he wouldn't give to be able to forget those days-- those *years*. But to forget his torture and grief would mean to forget Lucrecia, and that was something he could never bring himself to do.

Continuing down "Memory Lane", he recalled the moment when a pair of Mako-blue eyes had brought him out of his self-condemning reverie. He had been loath to visitors, even though this Cloud Strife fellow had managed to break the code to the safe, defeat Lost Number, and find the locked dungeon that Professor Hojo had delighted in sealing him in. In truth, he really had wanted the young man to 'let him sleep'.

But Cloud's strange connection with Lucrecia's son Sephiroth had intrigued him, until at last his curiosity claimed him, and he agreed to join the group. The youngest of the adventurers, a ninja by the name of Yuffie Kisaragi, had insisted that Vincent travel with her, which was quite surprising to the dark gunslinger; upon hearing the tear-jerking story of his past, the girl had let out a very emphasized "Boooring!"

So Vincent was dragged along with her, at first finding her annoying beyond reason. Her endless chatter, her wisecracks about Vincent's appearance, and her constant whining when she experienced the slightest discomfort-- for instance, a rock in her shoe-- made him wonder why the schizophrenic young ninja had requested his company in the first place. Yet over time, her talkative personality became enjoyable; her sarcasm endearing. He supposed she enjoyed his companionship as well. If his health ever dropped below acceptable standards in battle, Yuffie was the first to put her Restore materia to use. Vincent soon grew to look forward to the end of each battle, when he was rewarded with a hard slap on the back from Yuffie for a job well done.

He shook his head harshly, forcing himself out of his fond recollections. If he had wanted to pollute the girl with his noxious influence, he would have stayed. But that would have been unfair to both Yuffie *and* Rufus. He had been given a second chance to lead a wholesome life. Who was Vincent to take that away from him?

He kicked the double doors of the mansion inward and went inside. He never bothered to lock it; who would be foolish enough to venture inside in the first place? Every man, woman, and child in Nibelheim knew that the mysterious visitor had taken up residence in the gloomy manor. They were all too intimidated by Vincent to go inside.

After putting away the groceries he had purchased, he walked upstairs to one of the dilapidated bedrooms and threw off his boots. Ever since he had been imprisoned in that God-forsaken coffin in the mansion's underground dungeon, he had developed an incurable case of claustrophobia. He hated to admit he possessed phobias like any normal human, but he preferred a bedroom if given the choice.

Vincent brushed his unruly hair out of his eyes and pulled a folded piece of paper out of the pocket in his black pants. He sat down on the moth-eaten bedspread and unfolded the paper, sighing to himself.

It was a weather-beaten photograph of Vincent and the seven other saviors of the Planet. It had been taken in Junon, and he vividly remembered the smell of fish as Cid Highwind forced his friends to pose for the camera. Cait Sith expressed his severe discomfort, complaining that fishy odor would seep into the fur on his moogle.



"Can't we go inside to take the picture, Cid?" he whined.

But Barret Wallace just laughed boisterously and slapped the robotic cat on the back with his gun-arm, nearly knocking him off the stuffed animal. "A little seafood fragrance never hurt nobody, cat!"

"We all need to take showers, anyway," said Tifa, trying to look on the positive side as usual.

Aeris smiled mysteriously. "I don't care if I smell like a chocobo stable, as long as we find Sephiroth soon." They had all been confused by this remark, and now Vincent knew why the girl had been so adamant on finding him. He had to admit, he missed the poor, brave girl.

"Yuffie, would you mind readjusting your foot?" asked Red XIII politely. "You are standing on my tail."

The dark-haired girl blushed and moved her sneaker, allowing the lion-like creature to extract his tail. "Whoops! Sorry, Nanaki." She grinned. "But you know I wasn't hurting you. I can't be that heavy."

Cid laughed from his place at the tripod. "That's fer #%$& sure, brat. You're so scrawny, if you were standing on a tonberry, the most you could do is tickle it."

"Shut up, Cid!" she shouted angrily, raising her shuriken threateningly. "I'm sick of you calling me 'Brat' all the time! I have a name, you know!"

"Sure you do," said Barret, stifling a chuckle. "It's Pest."

Vincent flinched, waiting for the young ninja to explode. She never did. Surprised, he looked over at Yuffie. He was shocked to see her staring down at the ground, her lower lip trembling. A single tear fell down her cheek. Vincent Valentine was the sole witness of something none of the others had seen before: Yuffie Kisaragi was crying.

"Yuffie," he said in an attempt to comfort her, "They are only joking with you."

She sniffed. "Yeah, well, I'm tired of it, Vinnie. I don't even know why I'm with you guys, if all you do is insult me."

"That's not true, Yuffie," he replied softly. He lifted her chin up with his human hand, forcing her to look up at him. "Have I ever insulted you?"

She blinked, then slowly shook her head. "No, you never have, Vincent."

"Then do not jump to conclusions," he said, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Though the others may tease you, we all really care about you."

"Even you?" she asked, her slate gray eyes wide. Of course, just like everyone else, Yuffie found the notion that Vincent could actually have affections for someone quite hard to believe.

He sighed. "Yes, Yuffie. Even me."

"You're such a gentleman, Vinnie!" she said, grinning.

"Hey, uh, could we hurry this up, Cid?" asked Cloud, looking up at the darkening sky. "It looks like it's gonna start raining pretty soon."

"Greeeaat," moaned Cait Sith, shaking his head. "A *soaking wet* moogle that smells like fish."

"All right, all right," Cid growled, looking into the camera. "Aeris, could you move your head to the left a little? No, my left. That's it, thanks. ^&$#, Vince, lower your head a bit! You're too tall to fit in the picture! Okay, there. Brat, stop starin' at Vincent and look at the camera!"

"Bite me, Cid!"

"Sorry, that's Vampire Boy's job," he said, smirking. "Yeah, yeah, you can stop glarin' at me like that, Vince. You're givin' me the creeps." He knelt down next to Red, holding the remote. "All right, everyone. Pretend you're not miserable!"

The group smiled. Except for Vampire Boy.

"1, 2, 3!" He pushed the button and the camera flashed. Everyone got up and stretched, groaning. The first of many raindrops began to fall from the bruised and swollen sky.

"That only took 'bout a million years," said Barret irritably.

"Hey Cid, don't put away the camera yet!"

The scruffy pilot turned around to see Yuffie smiling amicably up at him. "What is it now, kid?"

"Hey, 'Kid' instead of 'Brat' this time!" she said, trying not to let her anger show. "You're slowly improving! Anyway, I was wondering if you'd take a picture of me and my bestest buddy--"

Everyone looked up, expecting her to say Aeris or Tifa.

"--Vincent Valentine!"

Surprised gasps issued from the group, and Vincent looked up sharply.

"Riiight," said Cid, puffing on his cigarette. "Hurry up and get in front of the camera."

"Come on, Vinnie!" she cried, dragging him by his claw into position. He stared at her, bewildered, as she grinned into the camera. "I don't expect you to smile, but try to look happy on the inside."

"All right, 1, 2, 3," said Cid, pressing the button. The camera flashed once.



Vincent looked up from the photograph in his hand to the frame resting on top of the fireplace mantle. It held a picture of himself and a teenaged materia hunter, who was smiling warmly. Her small, dainty hand was intertwined in Vincent's pale, callused one. Both were soaking wet from falling rain, and yet despite the cold, they both looked happy. One was just "happy on the inside".

He stood up and lifted the frame from the mantle, looking at it closely. Yuffie looked so pleased that she had gotten her gloomy companion to pose with her. He sighed remorsefully, knowing that this meager photograph was the closest Vincent would ever get to seeing his young friend again.

Suddenly his head began to ache terribly, and he almost dropped the picture. The inescapable presence in the back of his mind began to overpower him. The presence of a hideous, raging gargoyle Vincent had come to call simply Chaos.

*RETURN...*

Vincent shook his head in disbelief. "Did you speak, demon?" he asked to the air, unsettled by the sound of fear in his own voice.

*...GO BACK TO HER...*

"No!" he shouted, fighting the pounding in his skull. "I can never go back!"

*DO NOT FIGHT HER...*

He collapsed to the floor, clutching the picture to his chest tightly. "Never..." he whispered weakly. He watched helplessly as his human hand morphed into a black, scaly appendage with clawed digits. It still clung tenaciously to the photograph. Searing pain blinded him briefly as two clawed, leathery wings sprouted from his back, destroying his shirt and cape and ripping deep tears in the wallpaper. Suddenly he shook his head, harnessing all his self-control. "You will not win this time," he said fiercely through clenched teeth. Slowly, his claw changed back into the pale, familiar hand he knew, and his wings drew together and folded back down, disappearing into his back.

He wiped beads of perspiration from his brow and dropped his arm to his side wearily. He stood up weakly and placed the photograph back on the mantle. Finally he groaned in pain, collapsing on his bed. The last thing he saw was the impression of broad, sweeping gouges made by clawmarks in the ceiling.