Side Notes and Sinking Thoughts

Nine thirty was my bedtime. No, I'm serious. I'm a seventeen year old girl and my mother made me go to bed at nine thirty. Over-protective was an understatement for her. Well, in some aspects, I guess. She never let me have sugar, an allowance, internet access, and video games. In today's society, everyone would be dropping their jaws at a life without those beautiful, beautiful things. I would too, and I still do, even now. My mother's over protectiveness sprouted from the day my father was sent back to our home village of Wutai in Japan to help rule and be the head of defense. It was funny to think that my father was in enemy of the country my mother and I lived in, for he was fighting during the time of World War II. Yes, my father was that old. His youth had left him like I ditched my mother's rules when I turned thirteen.

He died when I was three, not from the battling, well; I guess you could blame the gun powder as a cause for his lung cancer. We were still living in Japan at that time and my mother had never left his side until he withered away into a dead war veteran. Me, being the three year old that I was, had sobbed my eyes out until they were as red as cherries while my mother locked herself away in her room for days on end. The Kisaragi Japanese family line was a small one and our only living relative was my mother's mother who was a whopping ninety-eight and couldn't make it to the funeral, let alone the house we lived in to help my mother.

I had lain in my bed, holding my woolly chocobo until its head popped off. This ended up not helping at all for my tears only re-sprung at the image of a decapitated chocobo in my bed.

But that's irrelevant and I'm known to get off topic.

My mother stumbled out of her bedroom door, her limbs shaking sporadically and suddenly, she fell to the floor in a heap of shaking muscle. Sobbing, I screamed her name and asked her what was wrong. I was so confused, so I called an ambulance in my three year old voice and saved my mother. The doctor said she had been diagnosed with Epilepsy and would be prone to seizures for the rest of her life. No one was there to look out for her except for me, and I was entirely too young. The doctor had put my mother on strong medication and he said he'd hope for the best. I wonder if he's still hoping.

After my mother's episode she had taken my hand and never let go. Her eyes were always on me in some way or another and she'd constantly look me up and over, brushing my bangs out of my eyes and looking deep, deep, deep into them, and only when I was older did I realize I have my father's eyes. She'd grasp my hand when we went out for groceries and go to the playground and when I started kindergarten she was more hesitant to let me go than I was afraid of being the new kid.

By the time I was ten, my hand was mentally broken by my mother's protection.

We moved to the States after my first year of kindergarten and my mom put me in the international children's program at my local elementary school. I had been so confused when they taught me about letters instead of Kanji and that we should read right to left instead of left to right. I cried constantly at the tender age of seven and it took me years to fully grasp the English language.

I think it was the beginning of ninth grade when I became fully fluent, to the best degree that I could be. Even now I sometimes feel myself at a loss for words when trying to describe something simply because I keep thinking of the Japanese word for it and I never make the connection.

My mom's medication seemed to be working fine and she'd have no attacks or seizures for awhile. Every once and awhile tremors would run through her spine and body, and I'd get worried, but she'd reassure she'd be fine and she'd just go lie down.

We adjusted to the western lifestyle of the States and when I learned I didn't have to wear a uniform to school, I almost passed out in excitement. If there was one thing I was proud of (besides my cat like reflexes and my ability to watch movies non-stop all day, once without snacks.) it was my sense of fashion.

And then one day I had been a good little girl (for the first and only time of my life) in my 1st grade internationality class and my wonderful amazing god-like jesus teacher gave me the thing that would change my life forever.

There, in my hands, after successfully knowing that the color of my hair was not kuro but was indeed very, very black, was a small fun-sized pack of Nerds.

I had opened the pink package with such a rush that half of the container burst onto the floor without me getting to touch it.

My (amazing) teacher frowned and patted my head reassuringly and handed me a new one.

Haha! Score! Now I have two!

I lifted the miniature pink turd-like pieces into my mouth and was thoroughly convinced I saw my daddy smiling at me because I was in heaven.

I devoured the one and a half boxes into my mouth and immediately asked for more. Startled, my teacher laughed and said I had to answer more questions to get more candy. (That bitch!) And so I did and became the genius I am today.

And I also loved candy. Everyday my teacher used the bathroom (2:15 on the dot) I would grab my two other classmates (Tseng, a Chinese boy with a dot on his head I used to poke, and Barrett, some black kid from Africa) we would raid the candy chest, but not that much so she didn't notice. Due to our success, the two boys who usually did nothing while I snuck the candy underneath my shirt, had nicknamed me "The Great Ninja Yuffie."

My mom would notice my hyperactivity when I came home from school and one day she found my stash underneath my bed and promptly slapped me straight across the face. No candy for me, it rotted my teeth and now I was going to have to go to the dentist to get new ones.

Now that had scared the shit out of me…..but only for awhile.

The great-ninja-ness continued on and on (and STILL continues, goddammit!) until I had discovered the world of late night movies, internet, and video games through my sleepovers with my small amount of friends in middle school. My friend from back then, Aerith (sweet girl, but we don't talk much now), had given me a DVD of a movie we stayed up watching the night before and the classic "Legend of Zelda" from her brother. (I had seen it on the shelf and begged for it because I liked the color green.)

My mother never, ever let me play video games, computer games, or anything with flashing lights because she was afraid she'd get an attack. I agreed with her wholeheartedly, and I didn't want my mother to have another attack ever again, but at that moment, I had been so deprived of means of fun at my house, that I was so ecstatic when I got those two cases.

When I got home I realized that I only had a DVD played and not a Nintendo 64 because my mother obviously hated me. So I watched the movie and ignored my homework until nine thirty when my mother told me to go to bed but I would just come back down an hour later and plug the DVD into my small television in my room.

I returned to Aerith's house and her older brother, Zack, asked if I liked the game. I complained of my lack of the 64 and then the best thing that ever happened to me happened and he gave me the console.

I know what you're thinking.

I am the luckiest bitch alive.

The console still sits underneath the living room television for hope that my children will ask what it is and begin to play it and everything will go according to plan. But Vincent- oh wait you don't know him yet. Don't worry he'll come in later.

So night after middle school night I would finish my homework and "go to bed" at nine thirty, secretly on the verge of bursting from excitement about my adventuress with Link and Zelda. Mother would go to bed around 10:30 and then I'd play my games with a blanket over the T.V. screen, the console, and my head so no light would escape my room. With Zelda on mute, I'd play until my eyes burned.

Game after borrowed game, Zack would laugh at my growing obsession until I promptly beat him at every Zelda game that was out. Then, speechless and going off to college, he handed me his entire Nintendo 64 collection and I had nearly burst into tears. Hugging him the hardest I could, I thanked him over and over again and went home early, skipped dinner (I was 'studying') and played all night. Good thing it was a Friday.

This habit never died. It still hasn't died. I still wake up in the middle of night, hitch my crying, crimson(gorgeous)-eyed baby on my hip and let him watch me kick some ass in Modern Warfare until Vincent sneakily shuts off my Xbox(the bastard) and tells me to come back to bed. And that me shooting the heads off of people wasn't good for the baby.

And…I'm off topic again. Onward, to the future!

My name is and always will be Yuffie Kisaragi except when it isn't and it's Yuffie Valentine.

I guess you could call this story "The Story of Why My Name Changed" but it doesn't really lead up to that. It leads up to me meeting this guy who's like no guy you'll ever meet. Sorry ladies, but he's one of a kind and he's all mine and we have BABIES. Well, a baby. But in reality, this is much bigger than how my name changed, but the story is much shorter.

It all started with the carpet.

I was up in my room with dark blue walls and a blue comforter and a white carpet and band posters covering every inch of my walls. My bed was pushed into the corner with my tiny (tiny, tiny, oh so tiny) television on the opposite wall from where my bed frame was. Two of my big fluffy pillows, one blue, and one white, were gone from my bed and were at the end of my bed on the floor. One for my back and one for my butt. I leaned against the pillow and the back of my bed like every other single day of my life and pressed the "start" button on my Playstation 3 controller.

With the game paused, currently it was the PS2 version of "Drakenguard," I leaned over and grabbed my huge glass of Coke and ice (the can stolen from my school's vending machine) with the goal to take a long, thirst quenching sip. Unfortunately, my elbow had pressed on the "start" button again and my game became un-paused. To my horror, Caim (the main character) was then being slashed to death by medieval soldiers. My hand jerked back and promptly tipped my glass over, letting the sugary liquid leak from the cup and all over my favorite video game of all freaking time, Final Fantasy X.

I nearly died.

"Tidus, noooo!" I screamed in all of my nerdiness horror and discarded my controller to rescue the poor disk. I had been playing it a week ago and had forgotten to return it to its home (its case) so it lay unprotected and vulnerable to all of the harsh surroundings, including my mother fucking Coke.

But the damage was already done and my game was ruined. Shit. That had cost me like fifteen bucks.

Turning to the now ruined carpet, I yelled, "Fuck you carpet."

Well, I didn't yell, because my mother would kill me if she heard me say anything remotely similar to the eff-bomb, let alone any curse word.

Wiping the game on my white tee-shirt (which was really stupid because now I had this huge stain on my stomach) I didn't even try to test it out on my PS3. (incase remnants of Coke still lived and then ruined my CONSOLE) Sighing, I mourned my dead game.

And then I remembered I had fifteen dollars.

"Wooooooooooooohooooooooooooooo!" I chanted and pumped my fist in the air. I ran to my wallet and pulled out a ten dollar bill and took the next five minutes pulling out five dollars in quarters. I don't waste anything.

Sticking my money in a plastic bag, I shoved it into my pocket and was about to head out to Gamestop when I remembered I had a mother.

"Right," I muttered and sat back down on my floor, arms crossed, and for once didn't want to play video games.

Let me make this clear, I know. Call me anything you want. I will accept it. I am a nerd. I am a geek. I know. I KNOW. I don't care because these things make me happy like pot makes normal kids my age happy. And even my own mother would want me playing "Sacrilegious, holographic akuma no shigoto."(aka video games) than smoking weed.

So instead, I did my homework. As a junior, I myself was surprised at how I managed to go through the school year with A-B honor roll while going to bed a 2 a.m on a regular basis. I mostly just did work during lunch or on the bus or in situations like this. I was generally bright and school was never really a problem with me. I just read what was on the board and comprehended it to the best of my ability.

So I worked through my Calculus homework with the help of Marvin the graphic calculator and read my chapters and did my Chemistry worksheets in the span of two hours. Dinner came and I ate in silence after the routinely "How was your day, Yuffie?" "Fine." And "What did you do?" "Nothing." To which I got sneaky because my days were sometimes actually great and I generally do things on days that I live. I really am a ninja.

After dinner I was bored and called Tifa (my friend that I had met this year, she's a new girl from Virginia and was in the same homeroom as me. We ate lunch together and she was closer to me than 8/9ths of the student body.) and blabbed to her about how bored I was and she said she was bored too. And then we became un-bored by talking about homophones like "bored" and "board."

After we hung up I said goodnight to my mother. At about nine forty-five I slipped into bed with my clothes still on and stared at my clock. Its bright red letter s stared straight back at me and refused to move. It seemed that it was nine forty-five for an hour but eventually my mother went to bed and the house was dark.

Now this was the fun part.

Normally, I didn't sneak out much. I loved my mother very much despite everything she does and I feel that betraying her in this type of way was sorta mean. But this was Final Fantasy X on the line and I felt as if it was worthy of me sneaking out of my house on a Friday night to go to GameStop. And GameStop was only ten minutes away. I would be back in thirty minutes, tops.

I slipped on my orange sneakers and changed my shirt from my white, Coke-soaked one (which I threw in the hamper) to a dark green one with a black smiley face on it. Partnered with regular jean shorts, I looked like my normal self. I combed back my short black hair, parting it to the side and letting my bangs fall over my forehead.

Deeming myself presentably, I took a deep breath and slowly turned the doorknob to my bedroom door. It silently turned and I pressed on the wood of the door, opening it a sliver, just enough for me to slip out. Looking down the hall, I saw my mother's door was closed and no light shown from it, so I tip toed down the creaky steps of our large house, and barely picked up my feet when I reached the tiled floors of our kitchen which led to the front door. Turning off the security alarm, wincing at the loud beeps the buttons made, I made my way out the front door in a quick and swift movement. Prancing to my little blue car, I slid inside and patted myself on the back before starting the ignition.

Praying to god my mom didn't hear the car engine turn on, I pulled out of our driveway and drove down the road of our nice little neighborhood.

Getting on the main road, I drove to the familiar strip mall (in middle school I thought this was where all the strippers went) and parked my car in front of the familiar game store which I think of as my second home.

As I pulled open the door to the almost completely empty GameStop I heard the little jingle of a bell above my head. I began to make my way to the used game rack in the back of the store, shooting my eyes for a moment to the cashier.

When I ask almost completely empty, I meant this place was being occupied by the sexiest man to ever grace my virgin eyes. I almost peed when I saw him. Almost.

I only got one good look before my pride got to me and video games sucked me back into their realm. But I knew I'd get to look at him again. I'd have to check out and he may even look me in the eye. From what I saw of him in that once glace I knew that it was just downright sexy gel oozing off of him. He had black, black hair (I was a sucker for the dark ones) was definitely taller than me (I was a sucker for the tall ones) and his face was so angular and pale. (I was a sucker for the handsome ones.)

"Hello, welcome to GameStop."

His voice was butterflies in a daisy field, finding the end of the rainbow, and getting an A on your final exam. It was rough and deep and everything you could think of in a man. He was pure man. He had no ounce of boy left in him and he just used that voice to talk to me. Lil ole' me. I felt so honored.

"Hi, I'm Yuffie! The Great Ninja Yuffie!" What the fuck was coming out of my mouth.

I looked over to him to see his eyes widen and he blinked three times. He let out a low chuckle (hopefully he was laughing WITH me) and I joined him, awkwardly, and scratched the back of my head.

"I-I mean, I'm Yuffie," I said. Smooth Yuffie, smooth.

The sex god nodded and opened his mouth. "Are you looking for anything specific….Yuffie?"

He said my name.

I melted then and there. At least, my brain did. But then I gained my cool back. Because I'm Yuffie Kisaragi, and not even the most attractive of men catch me off guard.

"Yeah, actually. You see, I was playing Drakenguard when I got thirsty and spilt Coke all over my copy of Final Fantasy X, and it's like, my favorite game ever. And I need a new copy. Gimme the cheapest one you got!"

I stopped.

"…Please."

"Sounds tragic," He said and his lips upturned in a small smile. I grinned back at him and turned my head back to the rack.

"Yeah, it sorta was. I shoulda held a funeral or something. Cause, yah know, I put the fun in funeral," I said, totally blabbering and saying things that shouldn't have been said.

All he did was laugh. I took that as a good sign and sighed when I couldn't find a used version of my beloved game.

"Well, we have two copies, one used and one new. The only real difference is like two bucks but we've tested the used one so it should work fine," He said and I walked over to the cashier desk, setting my hands on the counter.

"Used is fine," I said and started bringing my wallet out.

He silently began to bring the game out of a slide out compartment in the counter when I noticed this wasn't the usual cashier, Reno. I guess I was too taken over by his looks when I first entered to notice.

"Hey, you're new here, artcha?" I asked while he scanned my game and racked up my purchase.

"Yeah, started two weeks ago. Only on the weekends though," He muttered and then looked me straight in the eye with piercing red eyes.

"$13.50," He said and I was lost in his gaze. I just stood there and watched him look at me, and imagined myself falling deeper and deeper into his red orbs until he cleared his throat and shook my bagged purchase.

"Oh, haha, I'm sorry, I zoned out," I said, my face going red.

"Your eyes are pretty," he said and I smiled.

"Thanks! They're my dad's!" I proclaimed with pride. He smirked and once again shook the bag.

"Don't forget the whole reason you came here," he said, still smirking. I smiled and took the bag from him, looking inside like it was a Christmas present. I looked up at him and smiled.

"I don't believe I got your name," I asked boldly. If there was one thing I was, it was bold. It was the Kisaragi way. Do not be scared of something that poses no threat. And this guy didn't seem that threatening. Just dangerous, but in a hot way!

"Vincent," He said.

I nodded and twirled my bag around my finger. "Well, I'll see ya around, Vincent!"

"Have a nice night," he said like a good like cashier and I left the store with a blush up to my ears.

I got into my car surprisingly fast and by the time I gripped the steering wheel, I couldn't remember if I had walked or ran out of the shop. I was flustered and my hands were shaking and my mind didn't know how to put the car in drive. The radio seemed louder than usual and my hands didn't function enough to turn it down.

I wasn't good with boys. Ever. I was socially awkward in practically all situations, but it's not me who's the awkward one. I have no shame in my game addictions and proudly announce that I am, in fact, a gamer, something that has made all of the boys in class foam at the mouth and all of the girls turn away in shame. But when someone comes up to me and asks me what my hobbies are and I reply:

"RPGs and FPSs, blogging, books, music, Photoshop, and anime," they generally get the wrong idea and think I'm a freak on a stick. But that's usually the popular girls, like Scarlet and Lucrecia. And I could give a rat's ass about them.

Guys usually are pleasantly surprised to find a (hot) girl like me plays video games, let alone first and third person shooters (FPS and 3PS respectively). They try asking me really simple questions but when I reply with all of my Achievements and kill counts which are better than 90% of the boys that have asked (I'm not cocky, it's just the truth.) they tend to get a bit intimidated.

I do have friends, though.

I have Tifa. I guess I could consider her my best friend. I talk to her more than any other girl in our school. Then there's Cloud, the cutie who has the biggest crush on her. He sits with us at lunch and I have Chemistry with him. And Shelke, the sophomore in advanced classes and the shortest girl I know. Tseng still hangs out with me sometimes and we've become close throughout the years, and we kinda had this thing going on in freshmen year then I realized how horribly, horribly wrong that relationship could have gone and ended it after a month.

And there's my boyfriend list! A massive total at one!

Barrett had grown up and had gotten all "gangsta" and joined the baggy pants crowd. Once I walked up to him and asked him to tell me what the African word for "ninja" was (come on! I was trying to rekindle old flames) and he told me to "Stop bein' a stereotypical white ass and go da hell away."

So he was kinda out of the picture.

But now look at me! Take a good hard look! I, Yuffie, had just successfully flirted with someone. Not JUST someone, but a HOT someone. Who liked my eyes. My eyes. No one elses. My daddy's eyes.

I stared at myself in the rearview mirror and looked into my own grey orbs. I sighed. How did he find these things great?

Who cares! My brain told me. Backing out, I let out a huge breath of air. I sure don't.

And when I got home to my soft, blue bed, and curled up and pulled the covers over my head and traced the patterns on my penguin pajama bottoms. Happiness ran through my veins and my breath was fast and my face was still red. I hadn't brushed my teeth but I didn't care.

"Oh-Oh my gawd..," I sniffled, grabbing for more tissues by my side and rubbed them against my eyes. My tears were flowing down my cheeks and onto my carpet (with a huge Coke stain on it) without stop. I blew my nose into the damp tissue and let out a tiny sob.

My heart shattered with every moment that passed by and I strained to keep my eyes open, even though my eyes were already blurred by my ever present flow of tears.

"He…he wasn't real…," I murmured and dabbed at my eyes again. He never existed, all along. I went through all of that struggle and adventures with him to find out that he actually didn't exist.

"Tidus…you're a real bastard…if you were my boyfriend I would dump your imaginary ass."

I had seen the ending to this game millions of times, over and over again, on YouTube and the television. It got to her EVERY TIME. I couldn't even imagine how Yuna felt….knowing that the love of her life was actually her IMAGINARY FRIEND sort of.

Stop lying to yourself, you've cried during video games too.

After I had re-bought my game from Mr. Hottie, I had went to bed (shocker) and woken up, slid out of bed, grabbed my butt and back pillows, and prepared myself for some Sin-fighting-tasticness. I ended up beating the game again before Sunday night, which is a new record for me. I even did some stuff that weekend too. I went to play mini-golf with Tifa and Cloud for like an hour and then I went home again but all that matters is that I do, no matter how small, have a social life.

So while the credits rolling and I shut my PS3 down, I wiped my eyes one last time and threw my tissue box on my shelf with anger. Why do all good things (games) have to come to an end!

"Yuffie….is everything alright?" My mother called from the kitchen downstairs after the tissue box made a definite SLAM into my bookshelf. I cleared my mucus filled throat and ran downstairs with my red eyes.

"Oh mother, my life is coming to an end!" I exclaimed, dramatically entering the kitchen and using a towel on the counter to blow my nose in. I could hear my mother cringe before she turned around.

"Oh dear! What happened!" She exclaimed when she saw my tear streaked face. She left whatever was cooking on the stove to come and grab my face and looked into my eyes. I know she was trying to look for my father in me.

"I just…got dumped….," I said and slumped down, my arms hanging by my sides. My mother gasped.

"You had a boyfriend!" She said innocently and excitedly, holding her hand to her to mouth. I grimly nodded.

"He said I was too beautiful…and amazing for him. I'm crushed, mother. I don't know how to go on. But in all actuality, I do have to admit, he was completely right in every way, but still, I'm crushed," I said in a deep, sad voice. My mom lowered her hands.

"Yuffie….! I hate when you do that! Got me all worried for nothing!" She exclaimed and turned away from me and went back to cooking. I snickered.

"What disturbs me is that you can make yourself cry on will...," she said quietly and I laughed louder.

"Don't worry mama, I just read a really sad book and used my emotions to play a joke on you!" I lied.

"I don't know where I went wrong…," she said and I grabbed the keys from off a bowl in the counter.

"I'm going out, kay? I'll be back before….," I checked my watch. 6:03. Bad timing. "I'll be back in an hour. If not, imagine me saying that again," I grinned.

"You're going out looking like that? And an hour before dinner? Where are you going to go, anyway?" My mother said, looking at me with concerned eyes.

And walked over to her and wrapped my arm around her shoulder.

"Mother, mother, no one will care what I look like. And I'll be back in less than an hour, and I'm going to Neverland, duh," I said and quickly moved to open the front door. My mother sighed.

"Be safe."

"I will. Love you mama," I said and blew her a kiss.

She smiled. "I love you, Yuffie."

I pulled into the GameStop parking lot with a grin on my face and still red eyes. I took a deep breath in through my nose and checked my reflection in the mirror. Sexy? No really. Pretty? Nope. Decent? Sure! Maybe he'll think I have Pink Eye, that'd be cool.

I sauntered into the store and tried to keep my smile down. He said he was working on weekends, and its 6:15 p.m. on a Sunday. That's still very much weekend to me. It took all the strength I had to not look directly at the cashier.

"Hello. Welcome to GameStop."

It was liquid silk; lion's giving birth, singing in the shower, the sun setting and winning the lottery all at once. It was gravel yet smooth and so, so, so very-

"Hi!" I turned and waved, my eyes closed in my classic happy face. I opened them to meet Vincent's gaze along with an agitated customer waiting to be rung up.

"You're back fast," He spoke quietly, as if he didn't want to disturb the already quiet store. He stayed glued to his spot and just looked at me and I hoped he didn't notice my eyes. Especially after he said they were pretty.

"Already re-beat it, for the third time," I said confidently, mentally patting myself on the back. That better impress him.

"Ah, you've got me beat. My record's only twice," He said, smirking softly. His eyes twinkled with amusement and I smiled.

"Ahem!" The customer said. The man tapped his fingers angrily on the counter.

"My apologizes, sir. How may I help you, today?" His voice was now boring and robotic, like he was programmed to say these things. I wondered how rigorous the GameStop training was.

"I'd like to buy some goddamn games for my goddamn nephew! The little bastard's turnin' 13 and I gotta get him somethin' he better enjoy, not some crappy kiddie game!" The gruff customer exclaimed, his shaggy blonde hair flopping to the side and a pack of cigarettes coming out of his pockets.

Vincent straightened up at the man's words. "What is your nephew interested in, sir?"

The man growled and his hands seemed to itch for the Marlboro's in his pocket. "What erry' other kid his age likes, shootin' games. With those guns. Hell! I don't know! In my day, we worked in the fields all day! And stop callin' me sir, the names Cid Highwind, but that's Mr. Highwind to ya!"

My eyes widened. This guy's got nerve.

Vincent didn't seem impressed and shifted his eyes to look at the rack of games behind him. "Well, most of our games with those….attributes…are rated M…for mature."

"I know what the letter M means, ya dumbass!" Vincent raised his eyebrows.

"Mr. Highwind, if you keep addressing me like that, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Cid sighed and slammed his fists down on the counter.

"Sorry," He muttered. "Can ya just get me something so I can leave?"

Even though it wasn't my place, I decided to help out the obviously distressed Vincent. "I know!" I said.

Cid turned to me. "No one asked you!"

"But I asked me! Get him Portal! It's rated T, for teen, which your nephew seems to be, him being 13 and all. It's a really fun puzzle platform game. It'll test hit wits instead of how fax he can press the X button," I said and grabbed the specific game from off the shelf. (I had been eyeing it earlier.)

Cid just grunted when I presented it to him. "How much it cost?"

I told him the price and he seemed to not burst out into a cursing rage, so I took this as a good sign. He swiped the game from my hands and gave it to Vincent. "I'll take it," He mumbled and reached in his pocket, pushing his cigarettes aside.

Vincent, who had been silent this entire time(I can tell he's the quiet type…I always had a thing for the quiet ones.) scanned the game and bagged it, telling Cid the price again and swiped the man's credit card. I smiled in triumph and did a small happy dance from my place by the use game rack.

"Wooohooo! Thank you, mister!" I said happily and he just grunted.

"Have a good day, Mr. Highwind," Vincent said and turned back to the computer screen on the counter.

"Thank ya," Cid said very, very quietly and left the store, immediately bringing a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it directly outside of the store.

Vincent turned to me.

"That was impressive," he told me, looking me over again. I wondered if I looked hot. I was in my usual sneakers, black shorts and a thick sleeved tank.

"I guess that's just what I am, totally and utterly impressive," I smirked and crouched down to the lower level of the shelf. I hope he wasn't checking out my ass.

He chuckled lightly but didn't say anything else and turned back to his work. I sighed in frustration.

"So Vinny," Nickname is achieved, "what new ya got?"

He kept his eyes on the screen. "Depends. What console are you looking for?"

"Doesn't matter, really. I have a PS3, 360, and an old Gamecube (all that I had saved up for at my job as an usher at a restaurant called "7th Heaven.") in my room, even though they don't make anything for the Gamecube anymore, to my disappointment," I frowned.

"No Wii?"

My eyes narrowed. "Wii's are for," I stopped myself, "…wussies."

He was lucky he was hot.

He let out a fast and low laugh. "I totally agree. But don't tell anyone I said that."

I nodded and grinned to my ears. I slowly walked over to the counter and just stood there, waiting for him to finally look up from his computer. I made no sound while he typed away at the keyboarded, heavily focused on whatever graphs or sale marketing there was displayed in the screen.

I took this time to look at him, intensely.

His black hair was actually really long, most of it pushed back behind his black tee-shirt and his bangs being sprayed all over his face. His facial features were almost feminine in way; sorta soft yet had potential to be very rough and manly. His eyes were deep, deep red and endless, so it seemed. He wore a black GameStop tee-shirt and his lower half was hidden by the large desk in front of us.

Smirking at the fact that he still didn't notice me waiting, I slowly and quietly said, "Boo."

He almost jumped and looked at me, his voice a devoid of emotion. I giggled awkwardly and went to scratch the back of my head. "Scare ya?"

"Hmm. They call you a ninja for a reason," He said and I flushed. He remembered! It was kind of sad to think that this boy, no, man knew more about me than most of my school.

"If you don't mind me asking, why exactly were you out here so late on Friday?"

I laughed. "You see, I was being a ninja!" I probably sounded really stupid right now. "My mom...she has a problem with her senses and bright lights upset her. So she doesn't like me playing video games. But I adore them, and they give me something to do besides getting out and getting in trouble. So I have this huge collection back at my room, and my mom doesn't know. And I had to wait until she went out to sneak out to get here. I hate lying to her, but all in all, it's sorta worth it," I said. I hope that didn't sound that mean.

"Hmmm..," Vincent hummed. "That does sound very similar to being a ninja. Or just sneaking out like a normal teenager."

I looked at him. "But the thing is, I'm not normal."

Vincent's eyes glowed and in that moment I felt him stare so deeply into my eyes that I couldn't feel the floor from underneath my feet. Then, I wanted to know him. I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to know why those red eyes glowed and why he worked at GameStop and why he was still talking to me.

"So," I said, "do ya have Twilight Princess in stock?"

He cleared him throat and looked down. "One copy for Gamecube. It's used and is around thirty."

I growled. Thirty bucks for a used game? I knew I was getting ripped off.

"Twenty."

"We don't barter here, miss," He said and lightly smiled at me.

"You know my name!"

"Thirty or nothing," He stood firmly. Damn, he was a good employee.

"Fiiiiiiiiinnnneeee," I whined and brought out my wallet. "I was gonna go get some McDonald's with the money I would have afterwards, but now I cannnn'ttttt," I wonder if that made me sound like a fatass.

I passed him the twenty, five, and five dollars in coins. Always gotta have the coins.

He took them (with a lot of surprise at the massive collection of coins) and put them into the cash register. He handed me the Zelda game without a bag because I didn't really need one. I took it into my grasp and winked at him.

"Thanks, Vincent!" I said and began to walk away when he called after me.

"See ya around, Yuffie."