The Man Behind the Cloak

Chapter Two: The Ninja and the Professor


Yes, I'm not dead. Surprising isn't it? In the end I chose not to let Yuffie hang there. I decided to put up a second chapter and maybe...a third. This one is through Vincent's view point. Oh god it's going to be hard to put Vincent in character! I'm gonna have to think in a silent, brooding way. Weelll here we goo….


Ninja Brat. That's what most of AVALANCHE call Yuffie, the youngest member of this mismatch group.

Everyone calls me, the oldest one of this group—chronologically at least—the silent one, the mysterious one, the cold red statue, Vincent Valentine. She calls me Vinnie the vampire.

I am not a vampire. I'm something even worse; I am a sinner….a monster.

I kissed her, yet I was calling someone else. I didn't even realize that I was pushing against her petite figure until she called out my name, a bit frightened, and perhaps, revolted by my actions. I left her there, didn't want to turn back and look at her. I was scared. Scared that if I even glance at her that I might feel compelled to reach over and help her up to her feet, to dry the tears on her face. I can hear her crying, she thinks she could fool me, but I can hear it clearly, each sob, each tear. I had again caused someone else to cry. Perhaps, she hated me for ever getting so close, for touching her, for tainting her pure essence with my own murky one.

I was a coward, I was afraid of facing more guilt, which I knew I would get if I lingered for longer. I can face monsters, I can face Sephiroth, I can face Hojo himself all over again, but I cannot face her. I got out and I didn't look back.

That was two years ago. I kept well away from her, and the rest of Avalanche. No one ever figured out what happened between the two of us that day in the shaky and cramped hallway of the airship. No one except Yuffie, the invincible ninja, and I, the heartless vampire.

I spent those idle two years visiting the cave where my love was locked in, her crystal prison, preserving her body for eternity, as will mine. I will watch her sleep in her gemstone cage for the rest time. Forever and ever. But deep into the night, instead of dreaming of the maiden in the crystals, I dream of someone else, someone with energetic chocolate eyes, short brown hair and soft full lips. I wanted to call her name, but was confused to which name I should use. I couldn't figure it out.

My dreams often left me awake for the rest of the night, fingers flitting from the ground to my own lips and back again. I have been kissing the ninja, but was calling for the professor.

Somehow, some silent authority figure seemed to have appointed me as the advisor of the often misguided Cloud and information provider. I found him in the glowing forest, surrounded by Sephiroth's clones. He seemed far worse than the last time I saw him, and I knew what it was. I can see it clearly in his bright blue eyes. Guilt. His blue orbs reflected mine, and I could see my own red ones in them. Guilt, remorse, shame, pain. We can be so different, yet so alike.

"Vincent," I looked at him, signaling him to continue. Marlene in hand, the blond man peered at me. I stared back, red against blue.

"Are sins… ever forgiven?" I blinked, breaking the silent connection between our eyes. The looked down, silently thinking. Are sins ever forgiven? Are they allowed to be forgiven? I gave him the only honest answer I could think of right then.

"….I've never tried." He looked at me, so deep in thought, chewing over my answer.

"Well, I'm gonna try," and he walked away with Marlene, slowly disappearing into the woods. I watch him vanish, never moving from my spot.

I've never tried, because it will all be futile in the end.

I could feel her lips, soft against mine, her fingers tangle in my long hair, and her silent sobs. My sins could not be forgiven. I can remorse all I want, but in the end, they'll just be empty redemptions


She fell from the sky. I could see her from afar, an excited grin on her face as the people of the city ran past in panic. She has no fear. Does she remember that day? I found that I was staring at her and quickly averted my eyes as a few people ran past me screaming. Hardly anyone could stand under the gaze of my monster-like red eyes. She was one of the exceptional few.

I kept well away from her, and she did not come and greet me specially, just a normal acknowledgement. Just a hello. In the church, she stood in front of me, punching her fist in the air with vigor, shouting praises at Cloud's victory. I studied the back of her head and her bare shoulders until I felt that I could memorize every single strand of hair, and every inch of her smooth warm shoulders. She knew I was staring at her, I could see her slightly stiffening as my lingering eyes stayed where they were, refusing to pull themselves away from her. It seems even the mighty Yuffie would cringe under these eyes.

Finally, I looked away, and I could feel her relax, once again beaming at the others but not bothering to turn back and beam at me.

I stayed behind, brushing my gloved hand over the old worn wooden back of the church benches, brushing splinters off. They glanced off the leather gloves, falling useless to the ground. I pulled off the glove with my golden claw, the burden of my guilt resting in that fiend-like claw, and now brushed my bare hands on the splintered bench.

Slivers of ebony wood dug into my pale hand, stinging it. It seems to be one of the few things I'm allowed to feel: guilt, shame, fear, and pain.

"Vincent," I thought I was the only one left. Looking back, I found her chocolate eyes watching me, confusion mingled in them. It was because of me. "What are you doing?" I lifted up my hand, hastening to put the gloves back on them. Fingers a few shade darker than my skin, healthy, sun warmed fingers clasped over my clammy, pale hand.

Pulling them closer to her, she inspected the hand with disapproval. "Are you really as emo as I had imagined? You like splinters in your hand?" Her fingers were warm against my hand, and so, I did not pull away.

Shaking her head slightly, she tenderly reached forward and plucked one of the larger pieces out of my palm. She was hesitant, I can see that. She thought I was going to pull away. I didn't. Breathing out, she stuck my hand close to her face, squinting for more splinters, like a tiger on the prowl.

I urged myself to resist kissing her on the top of her head of dark hair, but my left hand reached out to touch her. The image of deadly golden talons against her head, small by comparison made me remember. I did not deserve this. Jerking back, I stuffed my pricked hand back into its leather glove, alienated, isolated, alone and cold without those warm fingers holding it.

She looked at the now empty space in her hands, her hand ready to pull another splinter out, and back up at me, blinking. Hurt, I can see hurt in her eyes.

"Why are you so complicated? I don't know what you're thinking half the time. I want to help you Vincent!" she whispered, eyes averting from my face, as if frightened of my reaction. I intended on walking past her, but instead, walked up to her, so she would look at me, but reluctant to touch her.

"I'm trying," she looked confused at my random phrase. This time, I walked past her, brushing her bare shoulder lightly with my cloak.

"What are you trying, Vincent?" Her voice made me stop, the cloak fluttering to a stop, touching my legs.

"I'm going to try it…..forgiving myself." Once again, I was the one who walked away, but this time, she was not crying. She was smiling.


So what do you guys think? Was it worth your time? And should there be a third chapter? If yes, would you like to see a sad ending, or a happy one? So many questions...anyways, thanks for reading, and tell me in your reviews or PM me. I won't bite, I swear.