fill you in
AN: Written for skippydeedooda on LJ, who asked for reasons why Vincent and Yuffie love each other. I am four months late; apologies. But I figure better late than never, or something equally cliche-ish, right?
So it's sort of like this: Vincent Valentine is such a complete, total loser that he basically redefines the state of loser-hood. He is such a complete, total loser that Yuffie Kisaragi would rather eat her own eyeballs than be seen in public with him.
"My own eyeballs," she repeats for emphasis.
His eyes flicker once in her direction, pinpricks of crimson--weirdly pretty and utterly blank. Which is basically Vinnie in a nutshell, thinks Yuffie: weirdly pretty and utterly blank. He's like a void inside, blank and empty; he's like a coloring book, full of picture outlines waiting to be made beautiful by enterprising crayons, waiting to be colored in shades of magenta and turquoise and electric yellow, sunshine and rainbows and happily-ever-afters. He's like a clean blackboard, a new notebook, he's like a white wall, or snow not yet trampled by any footsteps, he's like everything Yuffie's ever imagined potential to be.
Also: loser.
"The magnitude of your loser-dom amazes me sometimes," she continues, and reaches over the table to steal all the curly fries off his plate. As she had ordered those curly fries in the first place, he does not argue. Yuffie looks thoughtful at this, and proceeds to attempt stealing his orange slices. This does not turn out so well. There is a moment of discrete struggle, Yuffie scowls, Vincent looks bored, and it ends with him about to impale her hand with a plastic spork.
"I yield, I yield!" Yuffie squawks, and snatches her hand back. She holds it close to her chest, and casts baleful looks at Vincent. "You big losing meanie."
Vincent eats his oranges and returns her stare.
Yuffie concludes, "Let's go to the Tanabata festival together," and beams.
-
It's also sort of like this: Yuffie Kisaragi breaks Vincent's brain. He doesn't really try to follow her reasoning anymore; he accepts that there is none. There are no whys or hows; a lot of things with Yuffie just are.
-
"I thought you'd rather eat your own eyeballs than be seen in public with me," he says.
"Yes," she agrees solemnly. "You see what a sacrifice I'm making for you? What a good friend I am to you, Vinnie, agreeing to go to the Tanabata Festival with you, even though I would rather eat my own eyeballs. And you wouldn't even share your orange with me."
"I--" he frowns a little, colored in blue confusion. "I never asked you, Yuffie, to--"
"Aw, Vinnie," simpers Yuffie, still smiling that terribly saccharine smile. "You don't have to ask. What are friends for?"
-
Yuffie doesn't tell Vincent this, but she thinks he's actually sort of charming in that dorky old-fashioned way. For all his broodiness and his constant air of gloomy-doomy-doom, he still opens doors for her and stands when she enters a room and walks on the outside edge of sidewalks. She sort of loves him for that kind of chivalry.
He is in the end, even with the insanity and four monsters in his head and tendency to over-angst about his angsty past--even with all that, Vincent Valentine is still something of a gentleman.
-
"But--" says Vincent, and stops. He knows how this will turn out: he'll try to argue, she'll make no sense, eventually, she'll exhaust him into agreement. It is better to acknowledge defeat with some dignity. "All right," he says. And "Thank you," with a rather poor attempt at sincerity.
"You're welcome," she says. Yuffie sighs, and looks at him with affection. "You know, Vincent," she says, "It's all right that you're made of so much fail." He lets her reach across the table and pat his hand. "For such a huge loser, I still like you anyway."
That, for all of Yuffie's extravagant bullshitting, is true. Whatever and however he is, angsty or weird or old or sleeping in a coffin or having random tendencies to turn into Chaos--she still likes him anyway.
"Thank you," he says again, with great irony. But it is easier to sound sincere this time.
-
Some things are about Lucretia, and some things are about his Turk days, and some things are about all the monsters in his head. Some things are about the loneliness of eternity and some things are about the imminent destruction of the world via giant meteor.
But some things aren't, and Vincent realizes that he has forgotten this. Some things are not about anything; like Yuffie, they just are. The sun is golden and oranges still taste sweet and tangy and Yuffie has somehow manipulated him into going to a Tanabata festival.
Oh, thinks Vincent. Oh.
-
"--Of course," Yuffie is saying. "Of course, if it rains--"
"It won't rain," Vincent says quietly, but he sounds certain. There is something very clear in his eyes, and they're the most fascinating shade of red--
when Yuffie had been younger, had still lived with Godo in Wutai; she used to draw on the walls in the house. "I'm just making them prettier," she'd explain, while Godo shook his head in despair at the explosion of color on all the walls. There was something about the whiteness, the blankness of the walls that Yuffie couldn't leave alone; she said, "I'm just making them prettier. I'm making them better, see?" which was actually sort of true and Godo never could bring himself to repaint the walls blank and white again--
Vincent says again, in that low certain voice, "It won't rain."
"No," agrees Yuffie, struck breathless. She smiles, not that terrible simpering smile; but awkward, crooked, true. "You're right. It's won't rain," she whispers, laughing a little. "Orihime's definitely meeting her cow herder this year."
Tanabata is a Japanese festival during the summer (more about it here). I figure Wutai would having something equivalent to it. Plus, Vincent in a yukata. You can't say "no" to that.
Reviews would be love. :D