author's note: hey, guys! a slightly longer yuffentine. originally, i hadn't intended to make this very long - my apologies if it seems rushed! please leave comments/critique.

Never would she venture to say that he was her prince charming, come to rescue her from the atrocities in the world. For one, she was far too strong to need rescuing; for two, he was the one attacked by demonic dragons and put to sleep with pin-pricking guilt. By that logic, she would be his royal knight in shining armor - one who threw aside a sword in favor of a shurikan.

With a pat on her mount's head, she leapt off, grasping onto her shurikan as she did so. They were here. Before them, the cave stood, wide and toothy, crystals sharp and hungry looking. Yuffie's lips quirked upwards at the sight as a shiver went down her spine, caressing her bones in a terrifying way. This was what she had been training for, but the feigned confidence that tugged her mouth couldn't rid the fear within.

But she was the great rose. No one was quicker than she. No one could beat her. Those that had tried had lost materia and found themselves to be rather sore the next day.

She walked forward, peering her head this way and that in hopes to catch sight of the enemy before it caught sight of her. This opponent was different than those fools with heavy pockets and no brains. This opponent was tormented and veiled the friend that lingered within. Fingers clenched onto her weapon again, feeling the weight and finding comfort in her old friend, the thing she sharpened and held onto for years.

Would she be strong enough to use it on this day?

In her thoughts she hadn't noticed the soft glow that had begun to pulse from the walls, a keening noise further on. A child? Her vision shifted and wavered; tanned fingers rubbed her eyes and, with a few blinks, they were normal again. Her heart pounded beneath guarding ribs as she eased closer, closer, searching and hoping to get this over with.

What she found halted her footsteps, made her heart splutter and pause before speeding up, racing faster than the chocobo she left outside, safe.

"Vincent, don't let her hurt out baby!" A woman with brown hair cradled a delicate, porcelain infant to her chest, one that blubbered and sobbed, its tears falling fast. Yuffie's eyes darted towards the large crystal. The large, empty crystal - how could it be?

With a strong push, she leapt out of the way and towards a wall, raising her shurikan in defense as another kick hit, pushing her back. She blinked again. And once more, eyes filling with despair each time, because before her stood a male in Turk uniform, hair short and eyes bright.

Vincent.

She dodged again, using her speed as well as she could in the small space; but he was just as fast. Each roll was met, each feigning turn was seen; her tan skin grew littered with a sticky liquid that shone in the crystal's soft light. And she was at a loss, because a knight in shining armor should not be seeing her damsel in distress with a child; should not be seeing him with a woman she had only snuck glances at in pictures that he kept hidden in his mansion.

Her next dodge was slow, her mind still coiling around the possibilities presented before her. The kick hid her gut, throwing her against the glowing wall. As it shattered, dying blue shards fell around her, drawing delicate scratches along her arms and legs.

For all that it didn't seem real, it hurt more than anything before. Pushing herself onto nimble feet, she sprinted towards the woman and child in the center of the room. This isn't real; this isn't Vince. Because Vincent Valentine had long hair that he refused to let her braid and wore an awful amount of red, and no matter how often she made him angry, he had never raised a finger to her.

Because she was a knight and a princess, and he was the damsel in distress, and they didn't ever fight and weren't ever supposed to fight. It was wrong; the wrong that made children shudder and sob, the wrong that tore at the lifestream and made it quiver up there, made Aerith inhale sharply and search for Zack. It was wrong and yet everything she sensed - her senses acute, as all ninja should be - wove tales of reality that she couldn't believe.

The blue that had died on those shards seemed to be glowing on her skin, within her veins, marking the pathway towards her heart. A scream tore free of her throat. Angry. Despairing. Her hold on her shurikan tightened and she wished she hadn't decided to come here old fashioned, without materia at her waist to use in a situation like this.

Yuffie had thought it would be easy. Vincent had made such progress, and all that had been left was for her to yell a battle cry and grasp his shiny claw, tugging him from that wretched place.

A twist of her lithe body and she narrowly avoided another attack, eyes on the woman and child. They seemed helpless. Kind. Frightened of the beast that came in and threatened their lives - but they aren't alive. She repeated that, over and over, relying on every memory that lingered in her mind and battled her senses, her now. The mantra coated her skull and fell to her heart, and that soft pounding organ pulsed the strength she needed.

Shurikan cut through the space where flesh should have been. Pulsating light broke instead; the forms faded into wails and blue essence that urged the blue within her on. Her limbs were pained, weak, strained from more than hefting her weapon.

But before her, the image of Vincent in his suit wavered, shifted, and she blinked several times because she couldn't lift her hand to rub her eyes. The knight had grown weary, and the dragon had been poisonous, but the man before her was no longer in distress.

Her eyes met with those brilliant crimson ones, the ones that slithered into her most peaceful dreams and haunted her, ones that made her heart stutter. The cause of this mission, regal and royal princess knight come to save him.

And in the soft glow of the cave, in the glow of the crystal his once love was within, she knew he was saved. Saved from those terrible demons that lingered within; he was awake from the guilt of love that pained him for years.

And in the soft glow of the cave, a tall man far older than his visage gazed down at a girl who was fading quicker than the quiet illusion just moments before, and her armor seemed dull and mixed with purple, and he fell to his knees. A soft thump of limb against hard ground. His arms encircled the girl and pulled her close, a reckless knight that galloped across plains to come to him.

Vincent held her close, gloved hand against her cheek, and cried when she didn't grin at him, and cried when she didn't say his name.