A/N: Hey peeps, miss me? No? Seriously? * drags feet into corner and doodles on the wall despondently... *

You know, I always marvel at writers who can spin a yarn so fast it can probably cover the Silk Road and back within days. Yep, totally marvel at them. Marvel like they are the seven wonders of the world. Because... I. am. not. one. of. them... :)

Yup, the kind of illness that plagues us all, commonly known as writer's block, or scientifically known in latin as Tabula Rasa (blank slate). Unfortunately, its an incurable disease, and one can only hope to be struck by inspiration before the fic dies a natural death.

Anyhoo... a big shoutout and thank you to reviewers and readers again. This time, special mention to "anon" (anonymous reviewer) as I can't PM you back. Your review was really funny, but you clicked the Review button cos you're bored and I told you to, didn't you? Haha...

Otherwise, my dearreviewers, OerbaFarron, t1mb3r, Scribbled, Whiskered, Tear, Hotcutii, and others who dropped off along the way... *thumps chest* you have my heartfelt thanks.

This is not a breather chapter, unfortunately, it masquerades itself as one. No music, no nothing, just a simple interlude to expand further on the characters. Hey, and Vanille's weapon sorta made an appearance here.


VIII. Strangers in the Night

Everything here was mostly white. The landscape was a washed out kind of colour. Not the sort that you would want to paint on your canvas. It would have been hard to express. The blinding light seemed to emanate from within the sands itself, and not from the glowing fireball in the sky, adding a touch of surrealism. The sky was a pale shade of blue, blending into the colourless water rippling peacefully down below, a perfect reflection of the crystalline surroundings.

Two small silhouettes provided a contrast to the lackluster terrain. A scrawny girl with black, short, spiky hair sat dangling her legs off the docks. She exuded an aura of rebelliousness, not only from the clothes that she wore – though the black tank top and ripped up jeans stuffed into an oversized pair of hiking boots were an indication. It was her general state of scruffiness, the scratches on her bare arms, the grime on her face, and the beginnings of a bruise on her left eye – all of which she wore proudly as a statement to the world that she didn't care for appearances. She couldn't have been older than twelve, yet her green eyes burnt with a fierce, nameless desire, a kind of anger with the world that she raged a personal battle with. Right now, she was content, humming a tune to herself and making rhymes out of bullies and nasty things.

As if to balance out her companion's wild appearance, a younger girl sat cross-legged in the sands below the docks. Her bright red hair was kept in neat pigtails, and she wore a big smile on her face. She smoothed her bright orange sundress across her knees as she stretched her legs out and laid a sketchbook across her lap. Her sunny disposition did not wane, even as the girl on the docks scowled down at her. Her pencil scratched busily on the drawing paper as she strove to capture the moment. In her earnestness, the tip of her pencil broke off into tiny pieces. It was the first time her sweet, innocent smile faltered. Her lower lip jutted out in a trembling pout.

Noticing that something was wrong even though the younger girl did not make a sound, the raven haired girl hopped fearlessly off the docks, quite a great height for a child of her size. She stooped down in front of her friend, her fingers gently stroking the chubby cheeks of the redhead. The younger girl held up her broken pencil, the last one she had, and big, fat tears threatened to spill forth from her long lashes. The taller girl only chuckled and patted her friend's head comfortingly while she surveyed their surroundings. She spotted an abandoned campfire site not far off, the flames from the night before already reduced to cinder and ashes. Rummaging in the blackened pile, she returned to her friend's side moments later, and held out her palm. It was an intricate branch of a beech tree, the wood bleached white from the sun and saltwater. The ends of the twig branched out like antlers, while the charred tip of the other end could serve as the charcoal for her friend's sketches. The redhead giggled at her friend's ingenuity and received the branch in both hands with mock reverence and awe, like a princess obtaining the gift of a magic wand from her queen.

The raven haired girl rewarded her with a toothy smile, her gleaming ivories dazzling in her tanned face, her figure blocking out the sun and casting a cooling shadow across her friend.

"Don't ever wanna see ya cry again, Vanille…"


Don't cry… Keep smiling…

Oerba Dia Vanille woke slowly, taking her time to open her eyes and stare dreamily up at the dappling green of leaves overhead, rustling in the wind, and occasionally letting golden rays of sunlight through. She had fallen asleep under a great oak tree, which stood in solitude by the roadside, surrounded by endless green grass plains. Vanille had been sketching, before the tranquil scenery had lulled her into a nostalgic dream. She sat up and stretched, her mind still reminiscing on that scene from memories past, the cloak of Fang's warmth and protection continued to linger consolingly around her.

She hopped up and dusted herself off, panicking slightly when she saw the time on her wristwatch. Haphazardly gathering up her drawing materials and stuffing them into her rucksack, she mumbled under her breath about her own silliness and missing the evening train to Fang's. She wasn't far off from campus, the Bodhum Institute of Design and Arts, situated next to the prestigious Bodhum Music Academy. Maybe she could catch a ride into the city, if she were that lucky. It was Fang who believed in Lady Luck, she herself believed in miracles. It's a toss-up who's the more naïve one among the two. Suffice to say, both of them were optimistic, she mused.

As Vanille skipped along the dirt track leading to the main road, she heard the metallic clang and rumble of a stuttering engine behind her. She paused at the side, amused, She wondered if she should try hitching a ride from the obviously battered vehicle, or perhaps it might be faster to walk. She decided to try hooking her thumb up and waited. The car rolled to a stop beside her, the engine groaning in protest and dying with a loud pop. Vanille jumped backward a little at the loud string of curses from a distinctly female voice within. She squatted down and rested her arms on the open window of the passenger seat, grinning inside with a cheery wave.

"Heya! I think you need a little more help than I do!"

A youthful, delicate face of an angel, framed with wavy pink hair grimaced at her.

"Sorry, I was gonna offer you a ride, but looks like my car died. It's always like this, just needs a push. Where you headed?"

Vanille's eyes widened, instantly understanding the reason for the uncanny resemblance.

Hmm… Interesting…

"I'm headed for the train station." She opened the passenger door and slid in, dumping her rucksack on the floor. "But I've got a good feeling that we're actually going to the same destination."

"Oh? What makes you say that?" The pink haired girl asked distractedly as she swept her hair into a side ponytail and proceeded to fire the ignition. "I swear, this car is going to the junkyard one of these days. Slower than a tortoise and about as reliable as that shady car dealer. Should've listened to Claire and bought a sturdier pickup truck."

Vanille smiled. "C'mon, surely it can still be revived. Both of us can give the car a push while you fire the engine, see if it works, ya?"

The two girls got out of the car and heaved at the sides. While the car rolled slowly forward, the pink haired girl twisted the keys in the ignition viciously, and the engine finally roared to life.

"Yay, us!" Vanille cried triumphantly. The other girl giggled. She reached a hand over the hood of the car.

"Hi, I'm Serah. I don't know what I'll do without you around, thanks."

Vanille stretched over the hood and grabbed her hand with both of hers.

"Pleasure's all mine, Serah. I'm Vanille. Currently studying at the Design and Arts Institute."

The both of them got into the car and slammed the doors shut.

"Hey, I'm from the music academy. So where are you headed again?"

"Was gonna catch a train to Vile Peaks station. You wouldn't by chance be headed in that direction would you?" Vanille asked slyly.

"Hmm… coincidentally, I was on my way to visit my sister around those parts. Haven't seen her in a while and she invited me to attend a concert. Kinda odd, now that I think about it."

Vanille bounced up and down in the seat. "Ohh… ohh… Concert at Nautilus Dreams tonight isn't it? I knew it, we were headed for the same place, Serah Farron!"

There was a pregnant pause as Serah continued driving. Then she sighed heavily. "I guess I can't really multi-task very well."

With a sudden stomp on the brakes causing Vanille to lurch forward and almost plaster her face to the windscreen, Serah yanked her car keys out of the ignition and held it menacingly towards Vanille like a set of makeshift brass knuckles. Vanille squeaked and scrambled backwards, flattening herself into the corner between the seat and the passenger window.

"Wha-?" Was all the poor, terrified redhead could get out, before the cold metal of the keys pressed delicately against her throat.

"How did you know my name and where I was headed? Are you stalking me, Vanille? Is that even your real name? I'm not a princess in distress you know, don't make me hurt you…" Serah hissed. Vanille would have laughed if not for the keys digging in her skin. Serah looked like a cherub, with her big blue eyes, it's hard to imagine her mauling anyone with a set of car keys.

Vanille put up her hands in surrender. "Heeey, put that away would ya? My buddy Fang and your sister are roommates down in Vile Peaks. I just recognized your Farron family trait of pink hair, that's all. I swear!"

Serah paused. The name Fang did sound familiar. Realizing she had probably over-reacted horribly, she grabbed both of Vanille's hands. "Oh god, of course… Fang. I'm so sorry, so so sorry, Vanille!"

Vanille relaxed and let her knees sink back down onto the seat. "It's okay Serah. I would have reacted the same way if a stranger knew more about me than I let on. Lucky for me that you're not an axe murderer, erm, are you?" She smiled weakly.

"No, no… it's just that, my sister always taught me to be alert and on the lookout. God, this is awful. And the car just died again. At this rate, I think we're gonna miss the concert. Ok, let's start the introductions again. I'm Serah Farron, violinist, and my sister is your best friend's roommate."

Vanille grinned. Serah was way more amiable than her ice-cold sister, though a little frightening just now. "Hey Serah. I'm Oerba Dia Vanille, aspiring fashion designer, and Fang's your sister's roommate. And we better hurry up, else Fang will kill me for missing her concert!"


An hour later, the two girls were still cruising up and down the streets in their car.

"Vanille, I think we are officially lost. Can you give Fang or Light a call and see how to get there?"

"I tried, Fang's not picking up. I don't have Light's number. It can't be that hard to find one of the hottest club in the city right?"

"Ok, hold the steering wheel for me, let me get my phone." Serah reached behind and made a grab for her bag. Vanille's eyes bugged as she dove for the wheel but started really panicking when Serah's foot inadvertently nudged down harder on the accelerator.

Vanille screamed hysterically in the car. "Serah! Don't you think you should stop the car first? OH GOD, pedestrian ahead! Stop! STOP!"

Serah turned back around in time to see a flash of beige trenchcoat and for the second time that day, she stomped down hard on the brakes. The car came to a screeching halt, but not before they heard the sickening thud of a heavy body against cold metal.

Vanille had covered her face with both hands. Peeking out at Serah from between her trembling fingers, she whispered, "Is he dead?"

Serah's pale face went even more chalk white. She pushed open the door and ran out to the front. A large figure was sprawled under the headlights of her car, but thankfully, the roads were not stained crimson with blood as she had imagined.

The man on the floor twitched and groaned, pushing himself up to his feet. Serah immediately went forward to help him.

"Oh god, are you alright? I'm so sorry! Are you hurt? Shall I call for an ambulance?"

A large hand encircled her forearm as the man steadied himself. His other hand cradled the side of his forehead, where a trickle of blood was visible on his ashen face. He squinted down at Serah.

"It's okay, miss. Just a tiny scratch on my head. I'll live, but you may have to compensate for any head damage or loss of intelligence." He grinned at his own feeble attempt of a joke when Serah just looked mortified. His expression grew serious. "You really ought to pay more attention to the roads though. It's dangerous for you to be driving around like that."

He glanced at the hood of her car, now dented in the front. "Sorry about your car though. Seems like it got hurt more than I did."

Vanille got out of the car. "Snow, is that you? Are you alright?"

Snow turned in recognition of the voice. "Hey Vanille. Wow, fancy seeing you here! Who's your friend here?" He took a closer look at Serah. "Oh god, mini Light!"

Vanille smirked. "This girl here, is indeed related to Light. She's Serah, Light's sister. I can't believe you haven't met her before, you've known Light for quite some time right?"

Snow scratched the back of his head, while Serah attempted to staunch the slight wound on his forehead. He bent down a little and angled his face closer to Serah, so that she didn't have to hop up and down. Serah coloured and tensed at the close proximity of this stranger's face. "Light's a private person. Honestly, not many people know much about her background."

He glanced speculatively at Serah. Gently stilling her hands that were busily wiping away remnants of blood on his face, he looked her in the eyes. "Serah, its okay. I'm okay. Stop fretting, alright? I'm Snow Villiers. Your sister, Light works together with me at Bar Thandelus."

Serah looked up at the blond's handsome face and blushed, suddenly feeling shy. It was hard to fathom why a big guy with his physique could be so gentle and kind. "Erm, hi, I'm Serah Farron. We got lost on our way to Fang's concert. I'm really, deeply sorry that you got hurt because of me."

Snow grinned. Light's sister was quite sweet and endearing. The two descriptions that he would never use on Light herself. "Well then ladies, let's be on our way then, shall we? If you don't mind, I'll take the wheel."