Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction

By Kraven Ergeist

A/N: A friend expressed an interest in the idea of a Tifa/Vincent fic, so I decided to give it a shot.

xxxxx

Tifa had always loved the night air. Ever since she was a little girl, she could remember sneaking out against her parent's wishes, just to take in a few moments of the night sky. Some of her fondest memories could trace their roots back to evenings spent locked under the stars. As a young child, she could remember seeing a shooting star for the very first time, and gazing up in awe. When she was thirteen, she received her first kiss form a boy named Jak when she was growing up in Nibelheim. And when the quiet blonde boy named Cloud called her out that night announce that he was going to go off to try to make something of himself, she could remember making him promise to live up that ideal, to save her like a hero should.

Of course, the night also brought back memories of a time when her entire world fell apart.

Tifa shivered and tightened her vest around her shoulders. She had moved on since then. Cloud had moved on. Sitting there, beneath the water tower, reminded her of times long forgotten. Nibelheim wasn't the same as it had been back then. She wondered, as she had when the thought first came to her, if it had been a good idea to move back to her old town, to leave Midgar, to leave her friends, to leave Cloud…

She shook her head, coming to the same old conclusion. It hadn't worked out. Staying there would have only made things difficult.

Of course, staying here in Nibelheim wasn't helping either. Here, her memories pervaded even more strongly than in Midgar. But at least here, they were mostly happy memories. Memories of an innocent childhood, and not one of learning just what Cloud had come to be.

She shivered again.

"Welcome back," came a deep resonating voice.

Tifa turned and saw a familiar face - a man cloaked in rouge, his ebony hair dancing in the wind as his red eyes gleamed fiercely by moonlight. His icy stare and golden claw might have terrified any of the night's travelers, but Tifa was more than familiar with the man's ghostly ways.

"Vincent," she smiled, hiding her discomfort at the night's cold chill. "What are you doing here?"

Vincent nodded towards the Shinra Mansion. "This is where I live."

Tifa stifled a surprised look. "After all this time?"

Vincent only shrugged, nonchalantly. "I have nowhere else to go."

Tifa frowned, looking away. "Oh…I see…"

The man stepped over to her and sat down next to her. "So what brings you here, Tifa?"

Tifa shrugged. "Trouble in paradise, I guess. Not that Midgar could be defined as Paradise."

Vincent nodded. "I am sorry."

Tifa frowned. "It's not your fault, Vincent. It's just me, being an idiot…as usual…"

Her voiced died off, and she shivered again. Vincent casually deposited his coat over her shoulders.

"Here," he intoned. "You're going to freeze."

Tifa's eyes widened at the gesture, but hugged the coat close to her, soaking in its warmth. It smelled of old cedar and winter frost. It weighed on her like an eternity that time forgot.

"Thank you…"

Vincent hummed her welcome, and sat back to enjoy the starlight.

"Vincent?" Tifa asked, after a long contemplation of the night's starlight. "How…how long have you been…living here…?"

If the question stirred the man at all, he didn't show it. "I've always lived here."

Tifa shook her head. "That's not what I meant."

Vincent paused for a moment. His usual shroud of secrecy seemed to falter.

"Ever since I lost sight of her…" Vincent sighed. "That was at least a decade ago."

Tifa didn't need to ask who he meant. She could remember the pain clearly visible in his eyes as the Mako-twisted Lucretia told her story to them once upon a time.

"Since then, I haven't really been keeping track of time," Vincent went on. "And time, it seems, hasn't been keeping track of me."

Tifa nodded, despite herself. Having known the man for years, she could see no differences in him now from when they first met in the cellar of the Shinra building.

"What about you?" Vincent asked, changing the subject. "This was your home, wasn't it?"

Tifa nodded, biting her lip. She could tell that if she kept this topic up, her tears just might betray her sadness.

"So tell me about it," Vincent asked. "I've only seen the Mako reactor and the Shinra building."

Tifa shook her head. "There's nothing to tell. We live. We breathe. We laugh. We weep. And we die. There's nothing spectacular about it."

Vincent caught her eyes, concern evident in his voice. "Tifa…are you alright?"

Tifa turned her head away. He didn't need to see these tears.

"Tifa…"

His voiced carried emotion over the night air, echoing through her like a fire song. A dark arm touched her shoulder, and felt it shake.

"Tifa…"

"Don't," she commanded, getting to her feet. "I'm alright…please…"

Vincent didn't let go. He stood up with her, and watched her shy away.

"I don't think you understand, Tifa," he said, his tone unchanged. "I have seen a life of sadness, and have walked the path of despair. That is not a path I'm willing to let you wander down…"

Tifa felt him pull her closer, her eyes turning to meet his. She faltered under his sinful gaze, and tears emptied down the sides of her face, like bad memories running rampant.

"…No matter what…" Vincent said, and when his other arm came up to hold her, he brought her into a tight embrace that took her breath away.

For a man so cold, he felt surprisingly warm.

"Vincent…" she breathed, not believing the man she had once thought emotionless had demonstrated such care. He was holding her like something he treasured, something that he never wanted to let go. Tifa caught her cheeks coloring. "What…what are you…?"

"Long ago," Vincent breathed, "You woke me from a deep, dark slumber. I had thought that all there was left to do in this world was to linger and die. Living and fighting alongside you…made me remember what my life was supposed to be…" Vincent leaned back to gaze at her face, stroking back a stray lock of hair. "I was hoping you could remind me what truly living is like…"

Tifa stared back at his moonlit face, and saw the same charred past that haunted her eyes. She saw the same fear, the same hurt, and the same burning need for someone who understood.

She needed no further invitation.

His lips tasted like winter rain.

xxxxx

That seemed like an appropriate place to stop. I was wondering how far I should take this, and it just came to a point where all that was needed was said and done.

Hope you enjoy it, Carrie!