Title: More Like Complementary
Pairing: Aerith/Vincent
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Theme/Lyric Code: T.06 (opposites)
Genre: General; probably AU, as Aerith didn't die and different stuff happens.
Rating: G
Warning: As far as explicit content, none. As far as not sticking to canon, beware.
Summary: They were different to the point of completion rather than contradiction.
Other: For the 40-mixed challenge on LiveJournal. Lame and uninspired. Got the urge to write but seemed to have forgotten the talent. (premiered 02/23/07 at 607am.)
Aerith Gainsborough and Vincent Valentine.
On the surface, they were day and night, white and black, sunny and overcast.
Even their names sounded different from one another. Hers sounded the way she was — optimistic, cheerful, a little playful. His sounded the way he was — tragic, lovelorn, mysterious.
Everyone was surprised that day — several weeks after she'd been saved from death — when she got kidnapped by Hojo again, and Vincent swore that if the scientist gave her even a bruise from simply grabbing her too hard, he would shoot him in the head without a second thought. It was clear that she had become precious to him, though how it had come to that was still a mystery to them. He'd gone off alone that night (when they'd decided to rest and would head out the next morning), putting miles between himself and the others before sunrise because he needed to rescue the girl who had found a place in his heart.
Hojo hadn't hurt her in any way, but Vincent ended his life regardless; it was a death that had been promised to him by the ex-Turk the second he'd pulled the trigger and put an end to Vincent's own life as he'd known it. Not only that, but more recently, Hojo had dared to abduct the one Vincent had sworn to himself he would protect; she was his second chance and he couldn't blow it this time.
By the time Cloud and the others had caught up with Vincent, Aerith was already safe and one of the dangers in her life had been destroyed. That was when the girl had realized there was someone with whom she actually had something in common with, one similarity (among others which she had yet to discover) hidden beneath the obvious differences.
They really weren't so different from each other after all.
A/N: Still moving stuff here from the writing journal.