The old man was hiding now, hidden behind the chords that she pressed into the air. Tifa was not too hopeful to think that he was always like he was now. She knew that the man and the monster were never too far from each other.

But he was there, the young man. The one that was off duty without a tie. She couldn't help but see a little Reno in him, though quiet. She suspected that Vincent Valentine was always quiet.

"There, now you try."

He could only play the piano with someone else as his left hand. There was a story behind that, she was certain, but Tifa wasn't the one to ask it. She was there to be the baseline.

She gave Reeve piano lessons too, but they played duets when Reeve wasn't playing alone. The difference with Vincent was that he needed to be part of the same song. While the old man that he was gave out sarcastic comments, the young man that played treble drank in the surroundings.

Tifa was embarrassed to admit she just liked watching, waiting to see if the young man would come out again. She liked to believe in the bit of innocence that was still hanging on to them.

For the young man lingered in the middle of the clef, sneakily airbrushing a kiss into her hair, like he forgot who he was for a minute.

She had to wonder what the old man would say about that.