Thanks to Apollyon for pointing out the error in chapter 2. I always knew there was a reason I hate physics, and now we all know what that is. I suck at it. I doff my invisible hat to him/her for correcting me on this matter, but will not change it owing to the fact that I am a lazy bastard.
Sorry this chapter is late, I'm busy with finals and my internet connection is going on and off like a light-switch controlled by a small child on a sugar rush.
Anyways, rejoice my peoples, for it is "new chapter time"!
Chapter VI: A Sore Area
Vincent awoke to the sound of pots and pans clattering against the floor, and the very distressing smell of smoke. His eyes snapped open and he leapt to his feet, expecting the worst. Sephiroth's cat protested at this, mostly due to the fact that it was using Vincent as a pillow.
"How does anyone manage to get anything done in this god accursed atrocity of a kitchen!" He heard a female voice shout, which sounded worryingly like Yuffie. "How am I supposed to cook this, huh? It's all runny!"
This distressed Vincent to no end, as some fundamental law inside him said 'food is not to be wasted', as you could never be to sure when or where your next meal was going to come from. The food you wasted today may be the food you needed tomorrow, as it were. Starvation was never to be sneezed at, lest it decided to rear its ugly head.
He sauntered into the kitchen with his silent, practiced movements, and stared with equally silent horror at what he saw.
Yuffie was attempting to cook. 'Attempting' being the keyword here, as not a whole lot other than smoke and cursing was being accomplished. And while Vincent was indeed receiving a small education in cursing, he wasn't entirely interested in the versatile use of the word 'Fuck'. Cid had long since mastered this, and flaunted his mastery at every possible moment.
"What are you doing?" He asked, as if he didn't know. He vaguely hoped that what Yuffie was trying to do was choke everyone in the apartment with smoke, instead of cooking something.
The shinobi squeaked slightly in shock, and craned her neck around to stare at the gunsman.
"Vinnie!" She gasped, still surprised. "What the hell are you doing awake!"
"Wondering what you're doing." He answered, repeating his previous question. He walked further into Sephiroth's kitchen, prepared to be amazed and horrified at whatever Yuffie had concocted.
Sure enough, in the pan that Yuffie was using there lay a charred, immovable thing. Vincent He gave it a poke with his claw, and was amazed when something yellow oozed out. Hesitating slightly, he tasted it.
His eyes went wide.
"You managed to burn an egg this badly?" He said incredulously, flabbergasted that anyone could burn anything that badly with conventional being.
"It's not like its very easy!" Yuffie retorted indignantly.
Vincent didn't bother answering. He merely pried the pan away from Yuffie, and began washing it with iron wool.
"H, hey!" The shinobi complain loudly. "That's my breakfast!"
"Yuffie, that would have made you sick. Even animals would turn away from that." Vincent informed. He scraped the offending thing off the pan, and set it back on the burner. "Just sit down and... Drink some juice or something. Don't try to cook anything." He said this softly, rummaging through Sephiroth's fridge for various things. He pulled forth eggs, a few vegetables, and what he hoped was a very... foreign cheese (of which he took one sniff before throwing out a window, where it subsequently killed a rat silly enough to eat it).
He laid them out before him, and began cutting and mixing the ingredients together, obviously some sort of recipe formulating itself inside his mind.
Several minutes later, he was coughing in the midst of a black smoke.
"How in the name of the nine hells did I manage that!" He cursed loudly, letting just a little of his anger loose.
Like Yuffie, he had managed to burn whatever it was he had originally attempted to cook through some sort of fluke. Things had gone from runny to charcoal in what seemed like a heartbeat.
Never one to miss an opportunity, Yuffie sidled up behind Vincent, and had to jump up and clamour above Vincent's shoulder to witness the scale of Vincent's failure.
"Wow Vincent," She began, her eyes full of mocking innocence. "How in the world did that happen? No matter, how about you just put that away and have some juice with me, hmm?" From seemingly out of nowhere, she produced a carton of orange juice and pressed it at Vincent's trembling hand.
They both sat down by the table, Vincent glaring hatefully at the pan. His began to tap his claws against the table in succession, creating a steady 'ticktick' sound. Eventually, he spoke again.
"Do you think he remembers?" Vincent asked, not specifying who 'he' was. Yuffie hardly needed him to specify, though.
"No. I don't think he would be able to be so happy, or sane, if did. Maybe killing Jenova did something to him."
Vincent shook his head slowly.
"The Jenova cells inside both Cloud, myself and others exposed to them haven't deteriorated. I looked into the matter shortly after escaping the crater, thinking to find out something about my... Modifications. All I found out, though, was that the cells of Jenova were still alive and kicking inside of me, as well as everyone else. I'm just wondering how Sephiroth managed to come back."
"Well, he did manage to survive being killed once, when he got mangled by Cloud the first time. Or maybe he's a clone. Who knows?" The shinobi answered, taking a sip of juice.
"We should." Vincent said with sudden firmness. "There has to be a reason why he's back, Yuffie. Dead people just don't rise from the grave like that. If they did, then where's Aeris? I'd think she'd be the first on the list of reincarnation, yes?"
Yuffie considered this, still somewhat shaken by the fact that this was, indeed, Sephiroth. Or a clone. Or a horrible, horrible coincidence. But an idea had formed in her mind as Vincent spoke, and it was an altogether unpleasant one
"Maybe... Maybe it wasn't the planet who remade him? Maybe it was something, someone else?"
Vincent's eye narrowed, the implications of this notion catching his full attention.
"Someone else? Who'd do that? How would they get their hands on the ShinRa research anyway? Reeve has a hold on those and he isn't about to let them go for anything. He knows what they could lead to." Vincent said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe... Maybe some sort of terrorist group – one that isn't us – uncovered something in the ruins of Midgar?"
"Naw, they wouldn't remake him just to let 'im loose."
"Then... Maybe Hojo had a bigger following than we thought?" Even as he said this, Vincent was struck by a horrible thought.
Lucrecia.
The two were so engrossed in their conversation that neither had heard Sephiroth walk into the room.
"Ah, perhaps I could provide some assistance in this matter?" He said shyly, as if he was disturbing something important.
Both Vincent and Yuffie looked at him with shocked horror.
The dagger was a work of art in its own right, the handle forged with such detail and skill that whoever had made it had managed to make it look like a pair of intertwining serpents formed the handle, while the blade emerged from between them. The heads of the snakes twisted outwards, forming a hilt of sorts. The blade was almost translucent, shimmering oddly in the light with a series of strange runes being revealed inside the blade when just exposed to light in a certain way. It was a beautiful thing to behold, if you took care not to think of its purpose.
The Singer did no such thing.
When the dagger was plunged the back of a person cloaked in a raggedy grey thing, the Singer grinned smugly.
"Gotcha, ya bastard! That's for sneaking up on me!" He muttered, laughing softly.
The cloaked person whirled around as he let go of the handle, fixing him with a pair of piercing green eyes. The stranger looked like the complete opposite of the Singer. His cloak was little more something that may once have been an impressive looking, but was now so worn and ragged that it barely managed to perform its most basic functions of keeping the wearer warm and keeping him clothed. Combined with the dishevelled appearance and the snowy, unkempt hair the wearer seemed to be little more than a common beggar, but the mud stains and tall boots hinted that this person travelled. A lot.
But what really caught attention was a pair of strange tattoos on the Vagrant's cheeks. One was a pair of teardrops, the other a six-pointed starburst.
"For the love of... Was that really necessary!" The Vagrant demanded, reaching behind him and extracting the dagger from their back. He threw the thing on street, mysteriously free of blood. "Normal people just say 'Hi'!" He shouted.
The Singer grinned.
"That wouldn't be as much fun, now would it? 'Sides, I've gotta start training my sneaking skills more. People are starting to notice me."
"They wouldn't if you stopped singing those god-awful songs. Seriously, where do you get them all?"
"They come to me in my sleep." The Singer boasted, with a huge grin. "Anyway, what're you doing here? I thought Scion wasn't interested in this place."
The stranger, who wore a wide brimmed hat, pushed it upwards slightly to shoot the Singer a withering glare with his glowing embers of eyes.
"He isn't. Syrion and I are merely here to monitor whatshisname. Silly name, starts with an 'S'."
"Oh, him." The Singer said with a snarl. "I thought we were done with him."
"Yeah, him." The Vagrant answered. "And we are. There are simply some... Other things we failed to take into consideration. AVALANCHE's reaction to him, for one. Scion was adamant that if things looked as if they would start prying into the matter, we were to stop them."
"Huh, dunno what he wanted with that freak of nature anyway."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time." The Vagrant said reproachfully.
"Yeah, I get ideas like that too. Usually after drowning myself in booze, though."
"Oh, shut it. Scion knows what he's doing."
"Bah. If there was a scale for measuring sanity Scion so would only pop up 'sane' because he fell through the other side." The Singer snarled. "I mean, really! This place gives me the creeps, even without that freak running around."
"You just hate him because he has a better outlook on life than you do."
"I'm not sure I like what you're insinuating. I happen to be an optimist."
"Yeah, optimistic about everyone being such huge bastards that they can easily be manipulated."
"Is there anything else to be optimistic about?"
"Er, ah," Yuffie hemmed, unused to being caught in the act. (It didn't matter what the act was. In the far reaches of her mind, she recalled an incident in which Aeris had remarked on how funny her doodle of Cid was, and how she had been unable to say anything other than "Ah, erm, eh, t, thanks.")
Vincent was used to being caught in the act, or at he least had been trained to think quickly. And as ever, he showed the tact and subtlety of a large hammer.
"Yes, yes you could."
Yuffie stared at the two.
"V, Vinnie!" She hissed. "We can't ask him! He's not supposed to know what we're spying on him!"
Now both swordsman and assassin stared at the young shinobi, who had just realized what she had said. A moment of silence, and then...
"Crap."
Vincent sighed. Sephiroth smiled nervously.
"Er, yeah." Sephiroth said hesitantly. "So, what exactly would you like to know? I don't know all the details myself, but you'll have excuse me for that. And would you mind feeding my cat? He's hungry. There's some tuna in the fridge."
Vincent stood up and made his way to the fridge. While he rummaged through the fridge, Sephiroth tried to explain to Yuffie.
"Alright." He sighed deeply. "First of all; I remember. Everything."
Yuffie took note of the pained look on his face.
"Even...?" She made a slight stabbing motion.
Sephiroth blanched instantly, and covered his face with his hands.
"Yes." He moaned out, starting to sob.
Behind them, Vincent had found a can of tuna, and found himself unable to open it and hold it at the same time, owing to his claw. It kept slipping out of his grasp. Finally, in exasperation, he jammed a digit into the top and cut a hole in. The fishy smell wafted across the room, and instantly the cat was circling Vincent like a vulture over a soon-to-be-corpse.
"So you also remember dieing? Twice?" Vincent said while putting the can of tuna down, where it was promptly devoured by the feline.
"I didn't really die the first time, y'know." Sephiroth said reproachfully. "I was crystallized in material, which kept me in stasis and healed me. Somehow. I remember Cloud killing me though."
Yuffie and Vincent exchanged looks.
"So you remember us...?"
Sephiroth nodded.
"Everything."
Tense silence reigned for a moment, broken only by the sound of Mr Snuggles feasting on his fishy meal, the bell tinkling softly.
"But, how is it that you're still alive?" Vincent question.
Sephiroth seemed to think long and hard about this for a moment, before sighing.
"That's just the thing. I don't know. All I know is that one moment I was dieing, the next..." He gestured around himself. "I was here, like I had never been anywhere else. I can't remember anything in-between."
"Nothing? You have no idea how it happened?"
The swordsman fidgeted in his chair uncomfortably.
"Not really, no. But... Sometimes, when I sleep..." It was clear that dragging up these memories profoundly disturbed Sephiroth. "I can see someone watching me, someone I've never seen before. I can barely see his face. He's blindfolded, and grey. Like he had smeared his face with clay or something. And behind him, there is nothing but darkness."
Vincent and Yuffie were listening intently, and looked at him expectantly when he stopped talking.
"And then?" Vincent asked, demanding an answer.
Sephiroth shrugged.
"And then I wake up. He isn't a pleasant person, I can tell. He doesn't like me, I think."
Vincent settled back into his chair, thoughtful. Yuffie continued to look at Sephiroth expectantly, as if staring at him long enough would somehow make him recall something else.
With so much happening, not even Vincent noticed that the cat had silently vanished. The bell never made a sound.
But this was a minor detail.