A/N: Since this fic's set after Advent Children, there are spoilers, so be warned. For those of you who are familiar with my other fanfic, you'll know that Yazoo is my favourite character. This fic is centralised around a Yazoo/Tifa pairing. I don't know what you'd call that (Tifoo, Yazifa etc. all sound stupid), plus it's a rare coupling. Please read anyway, and let me know what you think.
Note: The SHM are results of experiments in this fic rather than being Sephiroth's will. This is the only AU aspect of the fic :)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything – it's all Square Enix's. If I did though, I would've made Yazoo the star of the movie.
Kuro to Gin
Black and Silver
Chapter 1: Aid
The wind was chilly and biting, and there was a silence that felt as though it ought not to be there. Tonight was certainly no night to be sitting out on an empty stretch of road, so in her defence, Tifa Lockheart wasn't expecting to trip over someone's outstretched leg. She caught herself before she fell to the ground, and turning around, found someone on the ground, looking as though he was merely resting. However, as she leaned in a little closer, she realised that was not the case.
His sprawled body was a mixture of torn leather and dried blood, and there was a smell around him that was similar to that of something burning. Tifa dropped to her knees immediately, taking the man's hand and bringing her face close to his. She pushed back the strands of the greyish fringe, looking into dim eyes.
"Hang on there," she said, "I'm going to get help."
She took out her cell phone and pressed keys frantically. Tifa growled lowly as she brought the phone to her ear. She should have guessed that Vincent's phone was off. Next was Yuffie's number, which Tifa dialled whilst eyeing the stranger lying next to her.
The slight movement of the stranger's chest meant that he was breathing at least, and Tifa sighed quietly with relief. She studied his face absently. Under the dark smudges of grey and dull red, Tifa suspected the man was remarkably handsome. Despite lying on the ground helplessly, there was something about him that was graceful and elegant. His torn and tattered clothes hinted that his hands once wore tight gloves, and strapped round his shoulders and crossing over the chest was the remains of what looked like a gun holster.
Tifa jumped as Yuffie answered loudly, "Yeah, Tifa? What's up? Have you bought too much stuff, and need help lugging it all back or something?"
"…Well, not really." Tifa looked over at her abandoned shopping bags, and then at the pair of eyes that were now watching her hazily. "I need you to get Vincent down here for me, just outside the drug store. There's a man…h-he's really hurt, attacked o-or something. I haven't a clue to what I should do…"
"Okay, I'll get him down there to have a look."
Whilst waiting, Tifa had taken a rather feeble approach in comforting the stranger, who she was now propping up against a lamppost and patting his shoulder softly. In the instance she did though, the stranger, through gritted teeth and with a low voice, muttered, "Get off me."
Tifa did so, knowing all too well that injured men with a potential amount of ego were bound to be spiteful to a helping hand. Vincent would be able to help her once he arrived – he was level headed in all situations, he'd know whether to take the man to the hospital or back to 7th Heaven…
The man shifted uncomfortably, and by instinct, Tifa made to place a reassuring hand on his arm, but she withdrew just in time. The stranger's head moved slightly, and the long hair that hid his face from Tifa swayed limply. The tresses were a dull grey in colour. Tifa would've thought he was an old man if it wasn't for the exposure of smooth skin through his torn leather uniform. There was the faint sound of something metallic contacting the pavement, and Tifa beckoned for Vincent to come over.
"He's here, Vincent…I thought perhaps the hospital, but I've got the children's dinner to do as well as the bar, so I then wondered if it would be better if we brought him back with us, he doesn't seem to talk much, I think maybe…"
"Tifa, you shouldn't worry yourself so much." His voice, as ever, was low and composed, speaking with no patronising tone. "We'll take him back, and work it out from there."
His red gaze rested on the stranger, and though he rarely showed emotion, Tifa was sure she saw Vincent's eyes narrow somewhat. It could have been the trick of the light, bathed in the orange light of the streetlamp, but as Vincent spoke again, he seemed a lot more firm with her. "…Do you know this man, Tifa?"
Tifa blinked. "...Not as far as I know."
Vincent reached out with his good hand, tilting the stranger's head so that it was illuminated by the light. And Tifa saw what Vincent was getting at, for now, clearly lit up and staring at her furiously, were a pair of bright green, slitted eyes. She had seen those very eyes before, two years ago, embedded in the harsh face of Sephiroth, and two weeks ago, where a burly man had burst in on Aerith's church. Vincent was watching her.
"I…" she started. "…Cloud said that they were all – "
" – dead," Vincent completed with a knowing nod. Tifa suddenly noticed how cold it was, and bit her lower lip. Eyeing her companion, who was waiting for her answer patiently, she murmured, "We can't just leave him, I couldn't do something like that…but Cloud…if he's okay with it…"
Vincent stared at her square in the eye. "Ultimately, it is your decision, not his. You spend more time at 7th Heaven and with the children."
"Everything the three did," Tifa said, casting a glance at the clone sitting against the lamppost lifelessly, "do you think they can just forget it all, and learn from it? They hurt people, kidnapped children…"
"It's your choice, Tifa."
Cloud was still staring. He had done so for the past fifteen minutes, gazing down at the sleeping form of the clone. As peaceful and serene he looked now, Cloud knew all to well how deadly one of Kadaj's henchmen could get when they were awake. He rubbed the side of his head tiredly. He had spent a lot of his day running his delivery service, and on coming back home, he was not prepared for an anxious Tifa to show someone very unexpected sleeping in his bed. Cloud was undoubtedly very annoyed, but a part of him, like Tifa, knew that if he was to show the same coldness Kadaj and his brothers had done, it would only lead to another fight. And enough people had been hurt.
Cloud's stomach lurched unwillingly as he recalled Kadaj's last moments. An all too eager youngster who was merely looking for someone for compassion. Cloud tore his eyes away from his bed and its occupant, making for the door, wallowing once again in his guilt for another death.
When he arrived back downstairs, noticing Marlene and Denzel out the corner of his eye, he joined Tifa in the bar. He could see she was nervous for his answer. Sat on one of the barstools was Yuffie, who had helped herself to a drink and was now eyeing Cloud with forced patience.
"I…" Cloud started. He frowned as Yuffie leaned forwards even more, her elbow banging against her glass that was threatening to tip over. "…So long as he doesn't cause trouble…"
Yuffie grinned. "See, Tifa? If Cloud's fine with it, no worries. He can help us with the decorating, you know, the more the merrier. That's why I'm here."
"You didn't come here for the decorating," Tifa smiled, her eyes moving in the direction of a red caped figure standing at the back of the bar motionlessly. She turned back to Cloud whilst drying up several plates. "At first, I was worried about what he might do, but he's hurt, he's…lost everything, really."
"Tifa, you're just too kind," Yuffie nodded her head for emphasis. "Refill, please."
Tifa took Yuffie's glass, and absently refilling it, she muttered to Cloud, "It's not like he's Kadaj or Sephiroth."
"I know," Cloud responded vaguely. "I wouldn't put it past him to be dangerous though. The last time I saw him, he had a gun, but now…"
"Vincent got there first, he took the gun away." Yuffie spoke proudly, as if she was the one who had retrieved the weapon. Her dark grey eyes made a movement towards Vincent, but it was so slight, only Tifa noticed it.
Tifa had really taken to taking care of the injured man. As soon as she had closed the bar, she took up the already prepared meal to Cloud's room. She was certain that after a sufficient amount of rest and having his wounds tended to, he would wake up and be more open. Indeed, as she pushed the door open with her back and brought in the neatly arranged tray of food, the stranger's eyes were wide open, watching her in a similar fashion to how Vincent's eyes always stared.
"I hope you slept well," Tifa started, setting the tray down, "you were quite battered when we found you."
"…Where's Loz?"
"Who?" Tifa said blankly. Then, faint recollections of the muscular man in the church flashed in her mind. Of course this clone would be worried about his brother. But Tifa…she had only found him, there was no sign of this Loz…
She opened her mouth to say something that was meant to be reassuring, but she faltered as the green eyes fixed their gaze on her piercingly, searching her. "…I'm Tifa," she chose to say after a few moments. "We're…already looking for Loz. Here, you should eat something. Perhaps you could tell me what happened over these last two weeks. What shall I call you?"
"…Yazoo." He spoke grudgingly but softly, a low gentle tone that Tifa assumed was his natural voice. In fact, she noted, the anger etched on his face was a close match to that of Sephiroth's, only less…genuine. And the hair, some of which was now showing its proper silver colour, was just as ethereal and sleek like the General's.
Tifa sat on the edge of the bed with evident hesitance, reaching for the tray of food. No sooner than she did though, did Yazoo's hand reach out weakly, and with effort he must have been saving up until now, he swiped at the tray. The plate, fork and a tidily folded napkin crashed onto the floor. Tifa leapt onto her feet, suddenly afraid. She could hear the sounds of chairs scraping downstairs, and seconds later, a low rumbling growing louder and louder could only suggest people were running up the stairs.
The door flung open, swinging on its hinges dangerously. Yuffie was the first in, followed by Cloud.
"Tifa, are you okay?" Cloud asked. His azure gaze travelled from her to the mess on the floor, and then to Yazoo, who was now forcing himself to sit up. Yuffie stuck her nose up in contempt, shaking her head.
"She was only trying to help, you ought to be grateful you're getting a second chance after everything you've done…"
"Yuffie that's enough." Vincent (who Tifa hadn't noticed because he was only just about visible in the hallway) spoke firmly. Tifa looked nervously from Cloud to Yazoo. The two were staring at each other with mutual discomfort, and with the awkwardness intensifying, Tifa began to wonder if this was a good idea. She caught Vincent's eye, and felt a small amount of reassurance on noticing that he seemed relatively unworried. She bent down, clearing up the tray slowly, feeling Yazoo's eyes on her. Vincent and Yuffie joined her, picking up the pieces of the shattered plate.
A/N: Gah, 1st chapters are always so hard to write. I hope it wasn't too painful to read – I obviously can't have YazooxTifa straight away, so please be patient and review!