A/N: Yuffie and Vincent in the KH-verse. Yeah, that's it.
Breathing underwater was the hardest adjustment when Yuffie visited Atlantica. Common sense told her that she should be drowning but King Mickey's magic had her taking oxygen from the blue expanse as if she were gilled. If she started thinking about it, her lungs would seize up and her heart would accelerate until she got the hang of it again.
Fortunately, she could push it out of her mind when she practiced swimming. (That was the easy part.) Her arms, skinny as they were, held years of training in the stringy muscles. Kicking her fins was fine. She could kick; she regularly kicked Cid when he took out a cigarette.
And okay, maybe he kicked back and won but…no one cared about that.
Breathing was the hardest part, till Vincent arrived a few minutes later and became the first gothic merman. The achievement was lost on Yuffie; all she could see was how shirtless Merman Vincent was. Shirtless, wet and shirtless and wet. And somewhat uncomfortable—okay, extremely uncomfortable. But that just paired with his extreme…yumminess.
If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that he blushed as he folded his arm and claw over his chest. The yards of black hair floated behind and a little above his head, like a silky rain cloud. Why did he obscure his neck so often? That was a beautiful neck. The triangular hollow on his throat seemed just the right size for her mouth—were they floating over a hot spring? Heat was overtaking her like Heartless on Sora.
"Yuffie," he said, face weary. "It's this way."
"O-okay."
Do not picture him naked, she instructed herself. Do not, do not, do not picture him nak-oh crap.
"Yuffie?"
"Naked."
"…?"
Well, that was awkward. What did she do now?
…
She did the only thing any sane girl would do: she jumped him.
-End