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Small Wish
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Somewhere within the WRO's living quarters in Junon, the barracks to be exact, one slender foot slid into view from behind a partially opened door followed by it's twin. Within the narrow hallways, a shadow formed against a wall before joining with another shadow, then another and another and another and another.
It was morning, but it was still dark outside—the sun having not yet risen from behind those Junon mountaintops. And yet, one lone entity—this shadow, to be precise—was on the move before all others with the moon dimly lending it' s light.
Slowly, yet steadily, this shadow moved down one corridor and then another before finally rounding a corner. At a brief rest, the shadow appeared to be trembling just the slightest bit.
Damn these floors are cold. Reeve should install some carpet in here!
But the thoughts were set aside and the shadow moved on. Finally, it paused outside a door, not unlike the one the shadow first began at. Just as one dark hand enclosed the doorknob, the door itself flew open and there was a resounding thunk not even a moment later.
"Oww!" came a cry from the shadow as it slid down to the cold tiles of the floor.
"What are you up to?" came a voice that just seemed to somehow blend with the surrounding darkness. It sounded so deep and smooth, with just a touch of roughness, almost like it had not been used in some time.
A very long time, mused the shadow.
"Um, if I tell you, will you remove your gun from my head?" the shadow replied wryly.
There was a distinct clicking sound that followed immediately after and the shadow took a gulp of air. Some movement could be heard and then, all of a sudden, a bright yellow light lit a narrow path in the hall from the now open door. This momentarily blinded what was once a shadow and what could now be seen as a young woman wearing a simple gray t-shirt and dark sweat shorts—her sleepwear, apparently. She had a hand up to shield her eyes from the light and another hand rubbing at her smarting temple.
"Gawd, Vince, couldn't you have been more—I don't know—gentle? That really hurt!" she complained with a pout and a blinking glare in the man's direction—her eyes were still adjusting to the light.
Vince, or rather, Vincent Valentine, merely gave a humph in reply as he turned away from her. He walked further into the room, designated to him temporarily by WRO's commissioner, Reeve Tuesti.
Finally, he stated plainly as he turned to her once more, "You were sneaking around."
The woman crossed her arms, straightening her back, more than a little put out by the whole thing. "And that's reason enough for you to blow my head off?"
Vincent sighed. "What is it, Yuffie? Or should I ask instead, 'why were you sneaking around in the dead of night?'"
Yuffie dropped her arms and then walked further into the room, taking a quick glance around. The only signs that it was lived in at all was the familiar red cowl, draped on the back of a desk chair, and two gold, plated boots lined next to aforementioned chair. Then she noticed something and couldn't help pointing it out.
"Hey! You're not wearing your claw-thingy! Wow, so this is what your left hand looks like...." She had moved closer and was crouching down near his hand, inspecting it with acute fascination.
Vincent, taken aback at her sudden approach into his personal space, stepped away from her. In doing so, he took his hand with him—not-so-subtly hiding it from her view. He was sure she'd start poking at it.
"Aww," she pouted, standing up straight again. "It's not like there's anything wrong with it. It looks like a perfectly fine hand to me. Why do you hide it behind that gauntlet anyway? You should really—"
"Yuffie...," Vincent cut her off, giving her a pointed look.
Yuffie just smiled, almost innocently. Vincent continued to look at her with narrow eyes, obscured slightly by his long hair. The crimson bandanna he wore constantly across his forehead just made those equally crimson eyes a little more menacing then he intended.
As much as Yuffie wanted to, being so scrutinized by that gaze, she didn't flinch. Instead, she laughed. It wasn't a loud laugh though, as she was thoroughly aware that there were others living here and still lost in their dreams.
"Vincent, Vincent, Vincenty, Vincent." The desk chair was near and unoccupied, so she promptly made herself comfortable. Lifting her legs, she crossed them beneath her and just continued to grin up at him.
"Yuffie," Vincent replied cordially, allowing the added 'y' part of his name slide this one time. Just this once.
"How's it going, Vince?" she asked. "Get a good night's rest?"
Though the slight movement was hidden by his headband, she knew he raised a brow in question. She withheld a giggle.
There was suspicion is his eyes, but Vincent decided to play along with her for now. "...I'm good. And I was sleeping—though, lightly," he added that last part with a particular look in his eyes as he regarded her.
Yuffie shifted in the chair a little, not missing how he lightly emphasized the was. "Ha-ha, I see...."
There was silence. Well, there was always silence where Vincent Valentine was concerned.
"So...," Yuffie began, but going nowhere. Her small voice was quickly lost to the silence.
Vincent watched her and waited quietly. But, after a long while, nothing happened. He found his patience gradually degrading.
"...Is there a reason for this—unexpected visit?" he asked a moment later.
Yuffie nearly rolled off the chair, quite startled to hear him speaking so suddenly after all that silence. Quickly righting herself, with a just hint of a flush on her cheeks at her own folly, she shook her head.
"No. No reason, really." A familiar grin seemed to light her face. "Just wanted to see how my good, dear, ol', pal Vincent was doing!"
Vincent found an empty space along the wall and placed himself there. It was going to be a while, it seemed. Arms crossed over his chest and he continued to look at her.
"I thought we established this already."
"Oh, did we now?" she said in an off-hand manner, a finger reaching up to lightly scratch at her chin.
He tilted his dark head in affirmative without a sound.
"Well...," she began again. Then she decided to take a moment to become enthralled with her hands. Her eyes widened. "Crap!"
Next thing he knew, she was on her feet and running out the door. There was a muffled sound of triumph and then she was back again, seating herself in the chair once again.
"I must have dropped this when you decided to club me with your gun," she said a bit too cheerfully. "Just so you know, it's gonna bruise. You owe me cookies, Mister."
She gave him a look that told him there was no way he was getting out of this. He sighed. He would relent. Not because he was feeling the slightest bit guilty for his actions; he thought they were entirely justified. But, because, he did think he owed her that much. In truth, he owed her quite a bit, but he wasn't going to tell her that.
At his nod, another smile lit her face and she almost cackled in glee. She had to ask. "Will they be handmade?"
His reply was instant. "Don't push your luck."
"Damn."
His eyes flicked to her face briefly to consider her reaction, but found her smiling at him almost ridiculously. There was a small tilt to his mouth.
Again, there was silence. But it was a comforting one. A friendly kind of silence.
This time, it was broken by Yuffie clearing her throat.
"Uh, I lied earlier. ...I came here to give you something," she said.
Finally. Here it comes, he thought. His gaze was searching, but she had turned her face down, looking at something in her hands. She was holding what looked to be a piece of paper, from his angle. But on closer inspection, he found that it was actually an envelope she held.
She climb out of the chair and tiptoed towards him. Why she tiptoed, he could not phantom in the slightest. But it did amuse him to some degree.
Deciding to just get the process done and over with, Yuffie thrust the envelope onto his chest, and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Next thing they both knew, she was standing in the doorway of his room.
"No!" she whispered-screamed at him when she saw him look curiously at the envelope and flipping it over.
He had just gotten a finger beneath a fold, ready to tear an opening, when she stopped him. He looked up at her questioningly.
Yuffie sighed with an inward groan, running a hand through short, dark locks. "Don't open it just yet," she said. She fingered the hem of her shirt tentatively, her pale feet shuffling. "I...I know you're leaving tomorrow." Here, she suddenly smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "I mean, today. I know you're leaving today!"
Vincent gave the envelope a once over before raising his eyes to meet hers. "And what does that have to do with this?" he asked, indicating the envelope now in his possession.
Before a blush could come unbidden to her cheeks, Yuffie huffed with hands on hips. "Well, can't a friend give another friend a parting gift?"
He looked back at the envelope. "A...gift?"
An amused smile came to her lips. "Yeah. Haven't you ever received a gift a before?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.
There had been a time.
"Once; a long time ago," he said after a beat, his thoughts taking him back briefly to a time long past.
Unaware of his internal trip down memory lane, Yuffie came to stand beside him and took the hand that held the envelope into her own. She gave it a brief squeeze, gaining his attention once again, and smiled brightly up at him.
"Well, you'll be receiving a lot more of them now," she whispered, as though it were a secret for just the two of them.
She let go of his hand, once again finding her way back to his door. "It's a surprise, Vince. So don't open it just yet. But," she paused briefly, the happiness in her voice taking a melancholic tone.
Her back was facing him, so he couldn't see her face. And though her head was tilted to the side, it was hidden by her hair. "If you ever find yourself lonely out there, wherever you may be, take a good look at my gift—know that you are not alone."
Her voice sounded like it was breaking toward the end and there was a small sound that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle, but he said nothing about it. And then she was gone. Back to her room, most likely.
Vincent stared at the envelope in his hand, not knowing what to make of it and Yuffie's parting words. After a while of just looking at it, Vincent finally took a look outside his window. To his surprise, he found that the sun was steadily making itself known to the world, it's rays giving the lightening sky a purple hue. Turning away, Vincent found his cowl, slightly creased in places where Yuffie had accidentally sat on it.
Well, maybe not accidentally. She had made it quite clear during his time here that she wasn't very fond of the tattered mess. Some prime examples would be: first, stealing it and then hanging it out her window. Second, she even went so far as to threaten putting a torch to the poor piece of cloth and scattering it's ashes in the port of Junon.
And he just had it dry cleaned the day before....
He gave a small shrug. Wrinkled or not, he was still leaving the WRO headquarters this very day. He donned it and slid the envelope into one of it's many hidden pockets.
He'd do as the young woman wished and open it later.
• • •
One week later,
Edge: 7th Heaven
Yuffie sat on a barstool, elbows propped on the bar counter and chin resting on her hands, a tall glass set before her. Through a thin, yet pretty colored, straw , she took long sips of Tifa Lockhart's latest concoction. Tifa stood back behind the counter, studying the younger woman's face for her reaction with a small, amused smile.
Finally, Yuffie sat up, back straight, her face completely unreadable. Tifa frowned.
"It's not bad, i-is it?" Tifa cleared the nervousness from her throat, mentally chiding herself lightly.
On Yuffie's brief—untimely—visits to her and Cloud's home-slash-bar, Tifa had taken to using the young Lady of Wutai for taste testing her new menus in secret. Normally, she would asked Cloud to do this for her, but he's never given her the answers she was looking for. With Yuffie, she was able to experiment with her home brew and get an honest opinion in return. Cloud would just grunt and say it's good.
She stomped the urge to roll her eyes and waited. Sometimes, waiting was pure torture in itself.
Yuffie dragged the moment out with a thoughtful "hmm" and a click of her tongue.
Finally, she said, "Well, I don't know what to say, Tifa dear." She plucked the straw from the glass and gave it a lick.
"Yes...?" Tifa was getting a little antsy now, shifting her weight from side to side—subtly.
Yuffie gave her a look. "Honestly, Tifa, I don't know why you like to torture yourself like this." She beamed at the older woman. "It's fine, Tifster. In fact," she said while placing the straw back in the cup and taking another sip, "it's delicious! Can I have another?"
A big whoosh of hot air left Tifa's lungs and she lightly smacked Yuffie with the hand towel she had been holding on to the entire time. "Because you were teasing me, no!" she said, smiling smugly at Yuffie's whine. "But it was good, huh?" She asked for reassurance.
Yuffie made an exaggerated sound. "Yes, Miss Lockhart, it was! Geez, I don't know why you ask me every single time. Anything you make is great and your drinks always sell well once they're out on the menu!"
Tifa laughed. "Well, I'm glad you think so. Thank you."
Yuffie grinned. "No prob. Just glad to be of service! Speaking of service, of an entirely different kind, isn't Cloud s'posed to be back here soon?" she asked, eying the clock on the wall at the end of the counter. It read a little past 1:00 PM.
Tifa gave it a look also. "Yeah, he is. He has an hour of break before heading out again."
As soon as she said that, they heard an all too familiar roar out on the streets and it was getting louder by the second. The women smiled at each other before making their way toward the entrance. Yuffie beat Tifa outside and spotted Cloud astride the monstrous bike that was Fenrir.
"Cloud! Hi; welcome home!" bellowed Yuffie while waving both arms above her head. Then her eyes grew round when he showed no signs of slowing down or stopping and heading straight for her. "Whoa buddy. Okay, um, you can slow down now, Cloud. CLOUD!" she screeched, covering her eyes as he neared ever closer.
This was it. She was a goner. Plowed into oblivion by her own friend, no less!
Mere seconds ticked by and still she waited for the moment when her spirit would be carted off into the Lifestream.
Nothing happened.
Quiet laughter caused her to open her eyes, though hesitantly, as she still feared for her life. When they were fully open, she found Tifa shaking her head at Cloud—who appeared to be having a wonderful time by himself—doubled over his, now parked, bike. It took her a moment to process what just happened. And when she did, she was one very unhappy ninja.
Her eyes took a quick glance to the ground and found a pebble conveniently close to her foot. With a gleeful smile, she flicked the pebble up and into the air with the toe of her shoe. She squealed in triumph when it found it's target—right, smack dab in the middle of Cloud's forehead.
"Yuffie!" was his indignant yelp.
Tifa allowed herself to laugh at this. Between gasping breaths, she said, "You had it coming."
Cloud rubbed at the red spot marring his forehead as he climbed off his bike, all the while muttering to himself, "Should've just run her over...."
Yuffie glared at him through laughing eyes. "Hey! I heard that."
He just grunted in reply before retrieving something tied to the back of his bike. "For that, I'm not giving this to you," he said, waving a thin package, effectively seizing her immediate attention.
"Okay! But I'll only apologize if you do it first!" With puffed cheeks, she turned her nose to the air with her arms crossed in mock anger.
Cloud peered at Tifa over the top of his sunglasses. She shrugged. "You did almost run her over," she said with a smile.
"And I greeted you so warmly, too," Yuffie added in quickly.
The man rolled his eyes, but walked the little distance over to Yuffie and grabbing her hand, placed the package in it. "Alright. I'm sorry. There. We happy now?" he turned to Tifa.
But it wasn't her who replied.
"For now," said Yuffie. "It all depends."
Tifa grinned.
Cloud lifted a blond brow. "On what?"
Yuffie stepped around him, wrapping her arms around the package. "Oh—I don't know—stuff?"
With a grin she hurried back inside to the bar to open the unexpected delivery. She took a questioning look at the front of the package. There was only her name on the label and no return address.
Who could have sent this?
Hoping to get an answer from Mister Delivery Boy himself, she poked her head out the door again.
"By the way, who's it from?"
At this, a mysterious smile crept across Cloud's lips before quickly disappearing. "Let's just say 'An Old Friend?'"
Yuffie blinked. "Uh, okay? It's not some creepy weirdo, is it?" she asked, glaring at the package as though it contained something utterly perverse.
Seeing her face, Cloud chuckled. "I guess it depends on how you see it, I suppose." Then his face turned serious. "But, I would never have delivered it to you, if I knew it would bring you harm in any way." He smiled slightly. "Rest assured, Yuffie. The package is safe to open. I have complete confidence in the sender."
Unsure, but trusting Cloud's judgment, Yuffie gave the package another look before giving him a measured smile and closing the door behind her. Well, not before yelling a quick "I'll be upstairs!" to them.
Tifa smiled, but her eyes showed a little worry for her friend. "Are you sure, Cloud? Who sent it?"
Cloud retrieved his own personal bag from his bike before turning to her with the barest hints of a smile. "There's nothing to worry about. And I can't say myself. But, if it's any consolation, I would place my life in the person's hand."
In truth, his words only made her worry more, but she had complete trust in Cloud. Together, they walked into the bar, side by side.
Upstairs, sitting cross-legged on Marlene's bed, Yuffie was trying to muffle a pleased giggled around the flat of a big cookie. In her hands was a letter, well, a card—a postcard, actually. And on that postcard was a picture of a beautiful scene overlooking the great waters of Junon at sunset.
To Yuffie,
I'm never alone. Thank you for the gift.
Sincerely,
Vincent
At the bottom left corner was an added message:
PS – I hope you enjoy the cookie.
The cookie itself had already been broken in half when she had opened the package, but it's plastic wrapping kept it from falling apart on her.
Deciding to enjoy the rest of the cookie laying on her stomach while admiring the familiar scenery, Yuffie smiled.
No problem, Vincent. No problem at all....
• • •
Somewhere near the small town that was Cosmo Canyon, a man stood on a cliff, facing the slow setting sun. But he wasn't looking at the sunset.
A small smile tilted his lips as carmine eyes took in the happy expressions of the friends he made in the past three years. There they were, their smiling faces immortalized on a flimsy piece of photo paper that was already wearing at the corners and edges. He flipped it over.
To my dear friend Vincent,
Never say you're alone again. We're always
with you no matter where you go. We won't
ever let you walk away from us. At least, not a
second time and not so easily. If you do,
I'll be more than happy to track you down
and beat the crap outta ya! And I'll do it with
a smile. You can't escape this great ninja!
Come see us again!
Yours truly,
Yuffie "The Greatest Ninja In The Universe" Kisaragi
PS – And for the last time, get rid of that damn rag!
A smirk twisted his lips at the corners. Leave it to Yuffie to keep things interesting.
Tucking his gift into the folds of his "damn rag," Vincent turned to follow a familiar path that would take him into Cosmo Canyon.
[ e n d ]
[ a u t h o r ' s n o t e ]
It's been so, so long since I've last attempted to write a FF7 fic. I've always wanted to write a one-shot dealing with Yuffie and Vincent. Nothing in a romantic light, really. Just a little something dealing with the growing friendship between the two—maybe even hinting at something more in the future (though maybe not this time). When I wrote this, I wasn't really thinking of a way to properly fit it into the FF7 timeline. I just began writing and couldn't stop.
If you're bent on having a specific date though, let's say that the start of this takes place a couple weeks after they found Vincent alive and well at the end of Dirge of Cerberus. And then somehow he and Yuffie ended up at the Junon headquarters afterward (for official business and stuff), while everyone went their separate ways. And the picture was taken during Vincent's "Welcome Back" party.
Oh yeah, the title has little to do with the actual story—I suck at naming things. I guess you could say it's "Yuffie's and everyone's small wish that they want Vincent to move on and find his place in the world again." Or something to that effect....
By the way, I LOVE reading stories of these two as a pairing; big Yuffentine fan since I was, what, 13—14? Literally a decade ago. Damn, I feel old now.... BUT, I also love reading general fics of these two as merely friends. I wish to see more stories like this. And if you know any good ones, LET ME KNOW! I'd love to check them out.
Well, I hope you all enjoyed this small piece and would love to read those reviews! I'm not good with responding though; I'm pretty damn bad at it, honestly. So don't take it to heart if you never hear from me.
Thanks for reading,
Jae
