Tradition
They met like this often. But when he finally returned, something changed. He held her just like he had never allowed himself to before. YUFFENTINE

A/N: So I had the idea for this story out of the blue. I do have a longer plot for it (you can kind of see me setting up for it) however it may be a oneshot, depending on the reception. Tell me your thoughts, read and review!

Disclaimer: Me no own Final Fantasy.

They weren't sure what finally solidified the glue between each other, between AVALANCHE. After the first time they saved the world? Cloud would disappear for days on end, no one ever knew where Vincent was, and Tifa would desperately try to keep tabs on everyone. Unsuccessfully. After the second time? It seemed just the same. Maybe when it was finally the third time, when Deepground almost destroyed everything. When all their friends banded together, for what they hoped would be the final time.

And when Vincent Valentine returned, everything seemed perfect. But like always in their lives, the delicate balance of peace was always shaken. It's unearthly, how complex human feelings can become. And that's when the peace was gone.

Was it a tradition? Maybe. Did he want to be here? He didn't know. Did he want her to smile…? He guessed.

Maybe it was because he was a gentleman. Maybe it was because they were friends. Maybe we were friends before, Vincent mused. When Aerith left. What are we now?

When the beautiful flower girl passed, the air on the Highwind could have been sliced in half. No on dare spoke. They didn't eat dinner together as the airship travelled to their next destination. As they all gathered, together they tossed pristine white roses off the edge. Was it necessary, since they had all mourned in the lake? No. But as the flowers free fell, petals plucked off by the wind and floating in the sky, one by one each of them wandered away. Tears in their eyes.

Vincent couldn't help but glance at the ninja, who still stood with him, and Cloud after everyone exited. It seemed appropriate and expected that the three of them would remain. It had been the three of them fighting, and it had been the three of them gaping in horror as Sephiroth's sword impaled Aerith cleanly.

But Yuffie had been like her little sister, who, in that sickeningly silent moment, really saw the light leave Aerith's eyes. Just like her mother's, Vincent had come to find out. And she was the first to flee the scene.

It was amazingly different how Yuffie left, compared to before. She didn't scream, she didn't cry out in heart wrenching pain, and she didn't run, slipping on the ground as she went.

With as much grace as the flower girl, Yuffie silently exited the room. No sounds of her sniffing in boogers or a suppressed sob in her throat. Vincent followed quickly after, leaving the blonde leader staring out the window with an unreadable expression upon his face.

And this started their "tradition." He knew not what compelled him to follow the ninja down the corridors of the Highwind. But standing on the other side of her door, hearing the soft sobs… something drew him in. As he laid his eyes on the form in front of him, he sighed softly, shutting the door behind him. She knew he was there, and usually she would be jumping everywhere, wondering what he wanted. But she sat at the head of her bed, knees up to her chin, small hands covering her face, and Vincent suddenly yearned to reach out to her.

Not that he did, though. As he sat next, but never close to her, Yuffie's sobs quieted. When Vincent closed the gap between them, placing his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, Yuffie cradled her body closer to her knees.

And that was it. Whether it was hours or minutes or days, neither of them could tell. Sooner or later though, Vincent rubbed her back ever so slightly, indicating his leave.

And he left.

Maybe if Vincent had known it would turn into a tradition, he would never have approached her that night. Maybe he would have never closed the gap between them and comforted the first person he had in over thirty years. He doubted so, but really, who knew?

Every so often, no matter what crisis or journey, sometimes Vincent would find himself standing outside of Yuffie's room for longer than necessary on his journey back to the room he shared with Cloud. Despite her bright grin and her childish ways, Yuffie hid pain inside her like a sponge. Vincent knew this. And he knew, of all people, that if gripped too tightly, the pain would explode. Perhaps that was why, in both a metaphorical and technical sense, he never, ever held the ninja. Never held her in that intimate way, not even in a friendly comforting way.

And on the rare nights he heard her sobs, he would venture into her room. It happened over and over and over again. Sometimes they would speak. Sometimes she would simply hide her face in her hands and he would rub her back. And at the end, unaware of the time, he would rub her back, and stride out of her room as if he had never been there.

When Vincent returned to Tifa's bar in Edge, Shelke close by, Yuffie had never felt more relief or hurt in her life. Relief he was safe, hurt that he had left. Relief that he was here to stay, hurt that it had been Shelke everyone decided to send to retrieve him. As everyone rushed over to clap him on his back or smother him in hugs and love, Yuffie found herself rooted to the spot with a twisted smile on her face. She felt his crimson hot stare on her, past the seemingly endless body parts of their friends around him. But that was that.

"Is everyone done crushing Vincent yet?" Cloud asked simply, staring with emphasis on Tifa and Barret. The two blushed and backed away from the gunman. "Good." Cloud's eyes curved with laughter in them.

"Are you staying?" Tifa asked him. "You better be…" she added for good measure. Against the wall, Cid crossed his arms and chuckled.

Vincent hadn't the need to ponder her questions like he usually would have. "Yes."

And the bar erupted into cheer again. As Cid yelled for shots for everyone, Vincent had no chance to wander over to the ninja to talk to her. Yuffie still stood in her same spot, eyes never leaving the gunman.

"We're glad you're home, Vincent." Reeve told him, snapping Vincent out of his thoughts (which revolved around the ninja, for some strange reason).

"Thank you, Reeve." Vincent nodded back to him as Reeve clapped him hard on the back.

The party that followed seemed to last for years. Even Rufus and the Turks showed up, seemingly relieved their somewhat rogue underground military unit had been wiped out. Sometime during the night, drunken Cid, Barret, Reno and Elena had been dancing, well mostly Reno and Barret. At the end of the night, Tifa realized the dreaded chore of room arrangements. "Well, where does everyone want to sleep?" she asked vaguely.

"I wanna sleep with YOU, toots!" Reno slurred, wiggling his fire-red eyebrows as well as he could. He was met by a seething look from Cloud, to which Reno simply giggled.

Everyone ignored the poor bartender, so she took it to herself to arrange rooms.

The second floor of the bar had a total of five rooms. How troublesome, she sighed inwardly.

"Mind if I borrow Vince for a sec?" she asked Cloud, Cid and Barret sweetly, who were busy rattling on about something with Vincent. The three suddenly seemed immensely annoyed (and drunk) at Tifa but muttered something about, "Yeah, just take him all for yourself." Vincent chuckled. He didn't really think his friends would have ever been that worried or even missed him.

"Come back soon!" Cid slurred, pointing a shining digit at Tifa. She took a double take. When did Cid put on Vincent's gauntlet?

Vincent turned to Tifa and looked at her questioningly.

"You are staying here, right?" she asked seriously. Vincent nodded. "For how long?"

The gunman thought about this for a moment. "As long as it takes for all of us to figure out what we're going to do. Prior to his intoxication, Cloud told me everyone had been planning on staying together in some way so as to re-establish AVALANCHE within the WRO." Vincent informed her. "Said he couldn't stand delivering things anymore."

Tifa nodded. "We have five rooms. Well, Marlene and Denzel share the only room with two beds," she started to explain gently. "Cloud and I share a bed, obviously. Barret started staying with us a couple months ago and working up here while traveling to Corel for the oil. Nanaki, being as odd as he is," she pursed her lips at this. "comes and goes, usually staying in Barret's room since he doesn't sleep on a bed. Cid and Shera live here and back in Rocket Town when he has extensive work for the space program, but right now are staying here."

Vincent drunk in this knowledge, not really knowing where she was going. "So then I'm taking the last room? Just show me where it is, and I promise I'll keep it clean for you."

Shaking her head, Tifa explained: "Yuffie told me today, before we knew you were coming back, she wanted to stay too."

Vincent furrowed his brow. That was not appropriate at all, to be sharing a room with her. "Then I'll room with Barret, if he's okay with it."

Tifa let out a hearty laugh. "You know he takes up that bed all by himself, don't you," looking over her shoulder at the large man. "Yuffie won't mind sharing, but I just wanted to run that by you."

"Sure." Vincent had already promised to stay, right? Cloud and the rest of AVALANCHE had seem so excited for the re-establishment of AVALANCHE as a somewhat "black-ops" unit of the WRO. Not that they had gone into much detail when they were all intoxicated, but the promise of AVALANCHE banding together once more as a specialty unit seemed more rewarding than oil or personal deliveries. Perhaps if they stayed together like this, they could prevent danger before it was too late. Not that they were sick of being thrown together to save the world. After the first or second time, it gets kind of addicting.

Tifa let out a breath. "Good!" she giggled. "Your room is the last on the right. Barret and Nanaki's is across the hall." Patting his arm, she walked away suddenly when she noticed Rude comparing biceps with Barret and it seemed like they would fight.

Talking about rooms and sharing one with Yuffie brought his earlier focus to the ninja again. He looked for her, noting her presence at a small round table with Nanaki, Rufus and Tseng. The latter three were clearly having some sort of discussion while Yuffie looked completely and utterly bored. As soon as she noticed his gaze locked on her, she looked down, a look of sorrow on her face.

Before Vincent could go to her, the shattering of a glass distracted him.

"Reno!" Tifa seethed. "Come on, now!"

Reno laughed awkwardly. "I… uh, sorry Tifa…"

Barret swung in, laughing apparently as loud as he could. "OH TIFA, DON'T GET SO WORKED UP!"

Vincent shook his head and looked back to the table, where Yuffie no longer sat. Scanning the bar, he saw no sign of her. Deciding to finally find her, he turned on his heel and proceeded up the stairs to the second floor. Shadow danced in the narrow hallway - the thought of how Barret even fit up here vaguely crossed his mind - and he soon reached the last door on the right.

And like time and time again, Vincent stood on the other side of a door that separated him and the small ninja. Past the noise and clattering of glasses and drinks and people screaming, he heard soft sniffing from the other side of the door he stood behind.

He hesitated, as he took the first step towards the door. For a second he froze. He had no idea why. But before he could ponder it more, he pushed the door open softly and was faced with the same image he had seen so many times in the past.

A soft breeze from the window caused the white curtains to flutter innocently. That was the first thing he noticed about the room.

"Yuffie?" he found his voice, looking at the crying figure. She had changed from her regular ninja attire to moogle and chocobo print pajamas, but left her headband on. When she didn't respond, he shut the door behind him, and sat next to her, stretching out his legs, gloved hands in his lap. When his shoulder brushed hers, Yuffie pulled herself closer in her arms, not responding.

Vincent looked upon this figure. He had seen it before. For various reasons. They were few and far between, but this tradition was somehow changing.

And he watched it change before his eyes when he wrapped his arm around Yuffie and brought her close to his body.

She stiffened, but Vincent made no move to release her. "What's wrong?" he asked gently, bringing a hand up to pull the knot that held her headband in place.

With that, a sob escaped her delicate throat and suddenly they were a lot closer than they were before. Vincent turned to her, a stab of white-hot sadness poking his belly with every sob that wracked out of her small frame. Both of his arms encircled her as she burrowed her head into his chest so closely he could feel her tears seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Y - you - le - left!" she choked out, fists clenching his shirt. Guilt invaded his body as he desperately squeezed her tighter. The pain that had built up in the ninja finally seeped out; her mother's death, her father's rejection, Aerith's death, her battle with her feelings for Vincent… and then him leaving. Finally the sponge that was Yuffie Kisaragi cried out the tears it had hidden for years.

For a long time they stayed that way, and they somehow found themselves laying together on the plush green blanket, holding each other in that intimate way that Vincent Valentine had never allowed himself to.

"You left and I thought you were never coming back."

It seemed childish enough to scoff at. But Vincent, he knew what she was feeling. He knew how betrayed and left behind she felt. And just like before, just like with their tradition, minutes or hours passed, and Yuffie fell asleep in his arms. But this time, he did not leave, he didn't gracefully walk out and shut the door behind him. Yuffie had fallen asleep in his arms - and in their bed. He vaguely wondered if Tifa had planned this.

He was aware of people shuffling out, most likely the Turks with a promise to return tomorrow to talk business. He was aware of everyone returning to their rooms. When the door to their room opened silently and Tifa poked her head in, she seemed to be unsurprised at the scene before her. Vincent caught her eye and crimson bore into wine, and in that instant Tifa understood. She understood her best friend Yuffie, and from the look in Vincent's eyes, she understood the war he waged with himself. Tifa placed the gauntlet she had finally gotten off of Cid's arm, and, shutting the door behind her, she left them.

Yuffie's grey eyes suddenly snapped open, and her left hand pressed into his back as if checking if he were real. When Vincent looked down at her, she relaxed. "I heard the door…" she muttered hoarsely. "I thought you… left." her voice cracked on the last word, and she sighed and buried her head back into his chest.

Vincent wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulling her to him. Why was he holding her? Why was he holding her like this?

"I'm not going anywhere."

It came just above a whisper, and the rumbling from Yuffie's body could only have been snoring. The war with himself raged on even as he spoke out his silent promise. He knew not exactly how he felt, but whatever was causing his arms to keep holding on, whatever was causing him to promise the ninja of his reprieve in her arms… he knew not if it was right. Only that it was true.

A/N: Remember, whether this is a oneshot or a full chaptered story depends on the reception! Please read and review, tell me your thoughts and if you want more! If I go on, it kind of like a new chapter of the ff7 world I guess, and explores the romance between Yuffie and Vincent more. Tell me what you think!

-realestboo