A/N: I really enjoyed the character of Shelke from DoC. This is just a drabble sort of thing I decided to write for her. She and Vincent might be a little OOC. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please R&R!

Disclaimer: As if I owned anything by the mighty Square. 0o

To Live On

She held perfectly still, her sapphire eyes closely watching the small butterfly that had landed lightly on a flower petal, its small wings quivering slightly. A long time ago, in almost another life, Shelke had done the same thing once. Back when she had been young and innocent. Though her body still was youthful, somewhat childlike, her mind was not. At least, not in most ways. Intellectually, Shelke was far beyond that of her nine year old body, but emotionally and human relation wise, well, that was a different story. That was why now one of the formor top members of Deepground was laying on her belly in the grass, observing a butterfly, trying to make up for lost time and experiences.

"Shelke?"

The male voice startled her and she jumped, scaring off the butterfly. Her sapphire eyes flashed amber as she sat up to scowl at the man behind her. "Why must you insist upon sneaking up on me, Vincent Valentine?" she demanded, her voice the cold, detached, impersonal one she had used for so long instead of the warmer version she had developed lately.

If he noticed her irritation, he ignored it in the way only he could do. "I thought that a fighter of your caliber would have sensed me no matter how silent I may move."

She gave a little sigh, running slim pale fingers through her short hair, deciding it was better to let her annoyance go. As if sensing her anger draining away, Vincent came closer, kneeling down in the grass beside her. "Tifa thought you had run off. She wanted me to look for you."

"Ah." Shelke was hardly listening, her attention now focused on a small ladybug crawling on a leaf. "She seems to be under the impression that I am still a child, no matter what I do to try and convince her otherwise." Cautiously she moved her fingers in the bug's path, allowing it to crawl onto her skin.

The dark haired man watched her quietly for a moment, crimson eyes revealing nothing of what he thought. "She's used to little girls who don't think like adults," he said at last. "Like Marlene. Tifa isn't quite sure how to deal with you."

"Then she shouldn't bother," Shelke returned calmly, fighting the strange, almost foreign urge to giggle from the tickling feeling of the insect's feet. "I'm not her responsibility. I can look after myself perfectly fine. And Marlene isn't much of a child either," she added. Having been living at Seventh Heaven since the events at Midgar, Shelke had found herself in Marlene's company often, and considered the girl far less tiresome and more mature than some others she had known in her time. Like Yuffie.

Vincent had to refrain from rolling his eyes, knowing full well who the girl was thinking of. "Marlene is nine years old, Shelke. The same age you were when you were seperated from Shalua. She's still a child, just like Denzel is."

"Old children," Shelke murmured, her attention mostly on the bug that was still working its way steadily up her arm. "The events of these past years have made them mature faster than others."

He found it fascinating, to hear a girl like her talk about the maturity of other children- not that Vincent really thought of Shelke as a child. She was a wierd mixture of all stages of human development. Some days she reminded him of a tiresome little girl who thought she knew it all. Other times the cinnimon haired girl seemed like an old woman who had seen so much and done so much that she was unimpressed by most things around her, detached from life.

"What do you think of them, since Tifa seems to try and force their company on you?"

She paused, looking up at him briefly with her endless sky blue eyes. "Their company isn't so tiresome," she replied. "But since you ask. . ." Gently, Shelke returned the ladybug to its leaf before turning her full attention to the dark haired man. "Marlene is young, innocent in many ways, but she isn't stupid or ignorent of the way the world works. She has had her share of troubles and tragedies, what with her birth parents' deaths and the events of Meteor. She's capable, and a genuinely sweet person. I can get alone with her reasonably well."

"And Denzel?" Vincent prompted her.

She snorted, such an ulike-Shelke action that Vincent was tempted to laugh. "Denzel is a ten year old boy, a typical one, despite the fact that he's had to fend for himself and survive on his own for a long time. And the way he hero-worship's Cloud! I don't know how the man can stand it!" Then the girl's eyes clouded, and she sighed. "However. . . they have the benefit of being allowed to be children, allowed to be weak, to be innocent."

He didn't respond, did not chastise her for the crystalline tear that slid down her pale cheek. It had been a long time indeed since Shelke the Transparent had been allowed to weep, for her to allow her feelings out, to show weakness. It was the first time she had done so since Vincent had known her. Cautiously, as if dealing with a skittish animal, he extended his hand, catching the drop on his fingertips.

"I don't know what to do with myself," she admitted to him, her sapphire eyes blinking up at him. "I'm not a child, but neither am I an adult. I've lost too many years to make up. I. . . I don't belong in this world. I should just allow myself to return to the lifestream."

"You are not the only one who has lost time, Shelke," Vincent said quietly. "Cloud spent most of his adolescent years inside a tube of mako, being experimented on. I myself. . . I lost so many years in my own hell, only to lock myself away in a coffin for thirty years. But we did not give in, even though there are times we wanted to more than anything. We made a new path for ourselves, and lived on."

Frustrated, Shelke shook her head, slapping her palm against the ground. "You do not understand, Vincent Valentine. What do I have to live for, in this horrible twisted life? I lost Shalua. She was the only one who cared for me, who loved me unconditionally, the only one I had left."

"Marlene and Denzel lost their birth parents, Barrett his wife, and Tifa her father. Cloud lost Aerith to Sephiroth's sword. I lost Lucrecia. Yet we continue to live." His crimson eyes probed hers, unjudging, understanding. "We live because we came to understand something: they would not want us to die when they sacrificed themselves so we might live. It would be a horrible In other words, Shelke, we live for them."

For a moment, Shelke stared speechlessly at him, looking for the first time since he had met her, like the nine year old child she appeared to be physically. Her bottom lip trembled, and she looked away, blinking furiously to stop the tears. How unusal, she mussed inwardly, wiping away the mositure that had escaped her control. So strange for me to be so. . . so sentimental. . . The girl looked up at her companion again, her eyes watching the way his crimson cloak fluttered in the breeze before turning her eyes to his.

"In what way does Cloud live his life for his Aerith? How. . ." she hesitated, then boldly continued, "how do you live for Lucrecia?"

Vincent pondered her question for a moment, knowing what it was she really wanted to ask. "By enjoying our lives, by not wasting them. Cloud tries his best to fulfill Aerith's wishes and dreams by protecting the Planet, and by carrying her love of life and growing things with him. I've made sure that Lucrecia's life's work has been saved and protected, and I seek to protect the world she loved. That is how we honor their lives, their sacrifices. How do you plan on honoring Shalua's?"

It was a weighted question. What would Shalua had wanted her younger sister to do with her life? Since being reunited with Shalua, Shelke hadn't had much time to get reaquainted with her, and was not certain what the elder Rui would have considered a worthwhile life. Then she recalled the way Shalua had passionately helped the WRO in protecting the Planet, the way she had furiously seached her computer for knowledge to aid them. Shalua had always believed that knowledge had a power of its own. . .

"I suppose the only thing I can do," she said slowly, watching Vincent closely for his reaction, "is to continue doing what I do best. Diving into the network. Recovering lost knowledge and using it to protect the Planet seems like something Shalua would approve of, don't you think?"

He inclined his dark head slightly. "I think she would be very pleased with such a life, if you too find it appealing." A crooked smile twitched his lips, his gloved fingers plucking the slender stem of a pale pink flower. "As long as you don't isolate yourself from the world again, that is." As if for a small child, Vincent tucked the bloom behind her ear.

She giggled. Shelke, giggling. It was astounding. A boy from the village had done that for her once when she had been six, and she recalled having been quite flattered. "I shall keep that in mind," she told him seriously.

"See that you do," he returned with equal somberness. "Now, I believe we should return to Seventh Heaven before Tifa comes after both of us herself, don't you agree?" He rose effortlessly, and almost without thinking held his hand out to her, the way he would have done for Marlene. For a moment he thought Shelke might be insulted at being treated like a child, but she beamed, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet. Maybe. . . maybe living on wouldn't be so bad after all.