From the moment they set foot in the new world, Fang knew something was up with Vanille. The rest of the gang never seemed to notice it, but they didn't know her like Fang knew her. Vanille's smile might be as bright as always and her laughter as natural and contagious, but Fang could still see the pain hidden behind the cheerful front.

Time passed, and they all began to settle down in their new world. Fang started bartending at a local bar and Vanille got a job at a kindergarten. Fang liked her job and Vanille seemed to like hers, too, but their shifts rarely aligned. Fang would often get home at three in the morning, and when she woke up Vanille would have already left for work. They were both free on Sundays and would often spend the whole day in bed, but the other six days of the week they rarely had time to be together at all. Fang hated being apart from Vanille, especially when the distress in her eyes only seemed to grow over time. She'd decided not to push Vanille, to wait until she was ready to talk about it, but it was slowly breaking her heart. They all carried invisible wounds from the time before the world shift, and the fact that Vanille seemed to think she couldn't talk to her about whatever it was that was bothering her hurt Fang more than any physical injury ever could. I understand that you don't want to flaunt your wounds to just everyone, Fang would often think, but I don't understand why you're hiding them from me.

After two months in the new world, Vanille's silence was starting to drive Fang insane. I should change shifts, she thought, walking home from work. Maybe I'll figure out what's up with her if we spend more time together.

It was Friday night – or early Saturday morning, Fang wasn't sure – and she'd escaped from the bar early to get home to Vanille. A fire alarm had gone off in the building next door, so she'd taken the opportunity to sneak away in the tumult. Her boss would be furious with her, but Fang didn't care. She was the only person in the world who could make drinks from both the era before the transgression war and the old world's final years. Her boss might get mad, but he would never fire her. Being the oldest hag on the planet has its perks, she thought, grinning a little to herself. She might have spent a lot of time in crystal stasis, but she was still sixteen centuries old. On the outside, she looked like any other twenty-one year-old, but on the inside… Sometimes, she just felt so tired. The others could never fully understand it. They were old, but not as old as her and Vanille. Is that what's hurting you, Vanille? Fang thought. Are you tired, too?

It was well past midnight when Fang went up the stairs to the apartment. She unlocked the door quietly, thinking Vanille was already asleep. Then, she heard the unmistakable sound of Vanille sobbing.

"Vanille!" Fang yelled, rushing towards the source of the sound. She found Vanille on the floor in the corner of the living room, leaning against the wall while hugging her knees close to her chest. She'd hidden her face in the soft fabric of her pink pajama pants, her whole body trembling. If she'd noticed Fang's arrival, she didn't show it.

Fang hurried to her side, kneeling next to her. "Vanille?" This close, Fang could hear a muffled cacophony of sound coming from Vanille's ears. She was wearing earplugs, the music turned up on full volume. In her left ear she had a plug from Fang's black set, connected to her ipod. In her other ear she was wearing a plug from her own pair, connected to the stereo on the bookshelf. Fang carefully pulled the plugs out of her ears. Vanille opened her eyes, staring at her in surprise. Her eyes were rimmed with red, making the beautiful green color of her irises seem even greener than usual.

"Fang?" she said, her voice weak and trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be home until later." She tried to wipe the tears away from her cheeks, but new tears kept falling from her eyes.

"Well, here I am," Fang said. "What's going on?" The earplugs were still blasting music, one pair playing death metal while the other played some sort of classical symphony. The way the two songs clashed together made Fang's head hurt so she turned off the stereo and pressed the pause button on the ipod.

"Nothing," Vanille said, fixing her gaze on the floor. "I'm just tired."

"Oh, don't you try that with me, missy," Fang snapped. Vanille flinched from the harsh tone in her voice, and Fang immediately felt guilty. "I know something's bothering you," she continued in a softer voice. "We've gone down this road before and it never ends well. If you think you're protecting me by not talking to me, you're dead wrong." She leaned her forehead against Vanille's and sighed. "Seeing you suffer in silence hurts me, Vanille." Fang's voice broke when she said her lover's name, exposing the fear and worry she was trying so hard to hide.

Another loud sob escaped from Vanille's lips. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry, I didn't want to worry you, I'm sorry."

Fang sighed again. "It's alright." She placed a hand on Vanille's head and began to stroke her hair. "Just tell me what's bothering you and we'll solve it together."

Vanille nodded and took a deep breath. "It's… It's the voices," she said. "The voices of the dead."

Fang pulled back, staring at Vanille in shock. "You still hear them?"

"No," Vanille quickly said. "They're all gone. I can't hear them anymore. The world is silent, now." She gave Fang a sad smile. "There's a void in me where the voices used to be. I'm fine when I'm with the kids at work, and I'm fine when I'm with you. It's the time in between that's… Not so fine."

That's why she listened to two different songs at once, Fang realized. She needs the noise and the chaos. She pulled Vanille into her arms, holding her tight. "I'll change shifts. I'll be with you as much as I can. We'll fix this. Together."

Vanille burrowed her nose in the crook of Fang's neck. "I'm sorry for not telling you," she sobbed, clinging to Fang.

Fang pulled back so she could kiss Vanille on the forehead. "It's okay," she murmured before kissing the tears away from her cheeks. "Everything will be okay." When Fang had kissed away every single trace of Vanille's tears, she finally kissed her on the lips. By then, Vanille had already stopped crying.


When Vanille woke up the next morning, the silence was already less unbearable. Fang tended to have that effect on her, always making her problems seem a lot less threatening. I should have told her earlier, she thought, looking at the woman sleeping next to her. I see that now. She kissed Fang softly on the cheek before sliding out of bed. She paused for a moment in the bedroom doorway, turning around to look at the sleeping woman. Fang's wild mane of dark brown hair was like a messy halo around her head, framing her serene face. Vanille smiled, savoring the view. Her fierce, loyal warrior woman never looked that peaceful when she was awake. There was always a wrinkle between her eyebrows and a weariness in her eyes, even when smiled or laughed. Vanille knew Fang was tired, which was why she hadn't wanted to bother her with her problems. It had been a bad decision, she could see that now. She'd tried to hide her pain before, both when they'd all been l'Cie fighting for their lives on Pulse and when she'd first started to hear the voices of the dead. They'd been down that road so many times before, and Fang was right; it never ended well. We'll face our problems together from now on, she thought. As long as we're together, everything will be okay.

At work, the sound of playing children was enough to keep Vanille calm, but as soon as she left the kindergarten the silence was nagging at her again. It's better this way, she thought, walking home. The dead are being reborn. They are at peace now.

Sometimes she felt guilty about missing the voices, though wasn't as bad as all the guilt she'd felt in the old world. The sins were still hers to carry, but she did think she'd atoned for most of them when she helped the dead into the new world. Instead of letting the silence swallow her, she put on her headphones and started playing Stravinsky's Rite of Spring on full volume. The symphony wasn't as chaotic as the voices of the dead, but it was enough to repress the silence until she got home.

When Vanille arrived at the apartment, the door was unlocked. "Fang?" she shouted. "Are you home?"

Fang met her in the hallway with a mischievous grin on her lips. "Yeah. I took the day off. I've got a surprise for you." She took Vanille's hand and pulled her with her, heading towards the bedroom.

"I'm changing my shifts, but you'll still get home earlier than me most of the days," Fang said. "I thought this little fella' could be my substitute for those hours. If you don't like him, we'll return him, but I really think he'll be of help when you're alone. He doesn't shut up. Ever."

Vanille gasped, barely believing her own eyes. On the bed sat a corgi puppy, wagging his tail. When the dog realized he was being paid attention to, he immediately started yapping with excitement. Vanille rushed to the bed, holding out her hand so the dog could give it a sniff. The dog gave her a lick instead, first on the hand then on her chin, all while yapping and wagging his tail.

"He whines a lot, especially when he feels lonely, but if you pat him on the head for a while it's all good again," Fang said, suddenly a little flustered. "He kind of reminded me of you. Do you want to keep him?"

"Of course," Vanille said, giggling. "You know I've always wanted a pet. What are we going to name him?"

"Well…" Fang said, scratching her head. "I thought we could maybe name him Bhakti."

Vanille smiled, remembering their brave little robot from the old world. "Perfect."

She knew she would always have a void inside her where the voices used to be, but voids could be filled. As long as she had Fang and Fang's love, she knew she would be fine. They'd promised long ago to be together forever, and it was a promise Vanille intended to keep.

As long as we're together, everything will be okay.