A/N: Eee, I'm so happy all over again! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I'm aiming to reply to all my reviews now – it's the least I can do, I guess :). Thanks to Pandora Lockhart, Random, Fuu and Lucian's Angel87 for reviewing too – obviously I can't send replies to you personally.

Now that Loz is back and the whole mopey Kadaj's death part is over with, this chapter brings fluff and sole attention on Yazoo and Tifa. And yes, it's actually a happy chapter title! And I'm 10 chapters into this fic already…wow, I didn't think I'd make it past five because I'd run out of ideas or receive lots of flames for the too-eccentric pairing.

To Fuu: I assume that biscuits and cookies are the same thing, little round things with chocolate chips in them that melt if you hold them too long. Also, snooker is a billiard game very similar to pool. I think with pool, you shoot in the balls according to the numbers, whereas with snooker, you have to pot all of the red ones before moving on to another colour. I'm not entirely sure myself, but snooker's typically a game men play at pubs, as well as darts. It's also really boring to watch on TV.

Disclaimer: All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.

Kuro to Gin

Black and Silver

Chapter 10: Laugh

If it was possible, 7th Heaven had a very chaotic order to it. With the exception of Barret, who had returned to Corel, and Cid, who expressed his opinion of Yazoo and Loz quite passionately before taking himself and Sierra home, everyone started the work on revamping 7th Heaven. All sorts of assignments and tasks had been handed out to everyone, but unsurprisingly, it was difficult to stay on track. It was a week since Loz had arrived at the joint bar and orphanage, and he only served to enhance the children's lack of concentration and inability to sit still.

Yazoo knew that out of the three brothers, it was Loz who had the best social skills. He immediately took to the children, learning all of their names and even allowing for one of them to write on the bandage wrapped round his head. There was only so much Loz could do with a broken arm, but it didn't stop him. On the contrary, it was clear that he wanted to help the group redecorate, and had decided to collect the curled pieces of peeled wallpaper with his good arm as Marlene, Denzel and Owen ripped them off the wall.

Unfortunately, Loz's carefree attitude did nothing to cancel out the bleak, solemn air both Cloud and Yazoo had. The tension was high between the two, and Yazoo knew as much that Cloud didn't want to make amends, and that mirrored Yazoo's feelings perfectly.

Tifa had decided that if he wanted to, Yazoo could help her clear out the cupboards of the bar, dusting them clean as well as sorting through the cutlery. Since it was either that or collecting rubbish off the floor, Yazoo agreed and crouched down behind the bar, starting on a cupboard in the corner. He passed Tifa plates and bowls, maintaining that steady rhythm of him giving, her taking, until the cupboard was empty.

"It's quite filthy in there," Tifa said over his shoulder as she bent down to take a look. Yazoo personally didn't think so. He presumed that Tifa was a woman who liked things to be neat and orderly. He took a cloth from her wordlessly and began to sweep out the dust. It was certainly a change from reckless gun wielding fights and motorbike chases. Tifa appeared to be thinking along the same lines, for she said rather amusingly, "I suppose you're not used to housework."

"It's actually quite the opposite," Yazoo replied light heartedly. He pondered for a moment whether to continue, and deciding that it was unlikely that Tifa would laugh at him, he admitted, "I've always done the laundry for my brothers. Not that I minded. I was actually…rather fond of doing it."

Tifa quirked an eyebrow. Her feet shifted as her knees also rested on the floor; she opened the cupboard adjacent to Yazoo's. "Really? You don't strike me as a laundry person."

He wasn't too sure what features distinguished someone as a laundry person, and waited as the deep brown eyes scanned over him. During the moments of no conversation, the giggles of Marlene and Erica resounded over the bar.

"You look like a mechanic." Tifa came to her conclusion at last, shifting aside a stack of plates in the cupboard. "You look like you have a talent for repairing things, motorbikes and such."

Pushing aside his fringe, Yazoo blinked and allowed for a smile to creep onto his face. How Tifa was coming to these conclusions, he wasn't exactly certain.

He concentrated more in his task of clearing the cupboard; the sudden mention of repairing motorbikes had stirred a wistful memory in him.

Yazoo's grief and sadness was beyond tears and rage. He found he could no longer cry or get angry. He really had hit rock bottom, but what mattered was what he was going to do from here on. With Loz at his side, perhaps things would be a lot more manageable, and that in itself was a blessing.

And if Yazoo was going to start fresh, and make the most of the second chance he was given, the first obstacle was Kadaj. His name was not a taboo, as Yuffie seemed to think, and Yazoo was to make sure of that. He wasn't going to let his little brother be forgotten.

He shook his head, and said to Tifa, "Kadaj was the mechanic. He fixed our bikes when they were broken."

He scraped at the shelf in the cupboard a few more times, setting his attention back onto that rather than the woman's response next to him. To talk of Kadaj, where previously it had hurt, aroused a sense of pride in him. Even in his short life, Kadaj had accomplished and experienced many things. Yazoo could at least be thankful for that.

"I never met your brother," Tifa said quietly. She seemed hesitant to continue the conversation, but as she spoke, a smile graced her face. "By the sounds of it, you were very close. It must be wonderful to have siblings who care so much for you."

Yazoo listened to Loz's prompt laughter nearby. He picked at the threads of the cloth absently. "Do you have sib--"

He quickly cut off his question. Someone else had addressed Tifa, leaning on the counter and casting a long shadow over it. Tifa stood up to talk to Cloud, but Yazoo chose to stay ducked down, cleaning the inside of the cupboard vigorously. He was in no hurry to start a conversation with Cloud.

"Tifa, I've just had another delivery call. It's a bit awkward, since I want to help out here too." Cloud jerked his head slightly in the direction of the children; Yazoo looked up and wondered if he could be seen by the blonde.

That was answered when Cloud said after a few seconds, "Where's the other one?"

"Yazoo?" Tifa said. "He's cleaning out the cupboards with me."

Her right hand gestured towards him, and Yazoo stopped with the cleaning. He waited for a snappy retort to come in his head. Nothing came, so reluctantly, Yazoo stood up and greeted Cloud with a very small nod. Cloud returned it (the look on his face suggested that this action was painful) and then resumed his conversation with Tifa.

Now stood up with a good view of the bar, Yazoo riveted his attention to that of Yuffie and Vincent, who were having a somewhat frantic argument with each other under the light. It hung from a high ceiling in a lopsided way. Between the two was a small stepladder that, with its battered shape and uneven legs, looked highly unreliable. Laying on the stepladder was a blue feathery duster.

"I don't like the angle we'll be in," she hissed. "Me on top of that stepladder and you at the bottom? That's just…n-no, no way."

"Yuffie, you're in shorts, not a skirt," Vincent muttered.

"So?" she fired back. "That doesn't change t-the…you know…angle! You go up, I won't rock the ladder this time, I promise."

"That's what you said last time."

"I had to scratch my cheek!" Yuffie said through her teeth.

"Okay then." Vincent sighed in defeat and started to climb the stepladder as Yuffie held it steady.

"Yuffie certainly likes to make things difficult for Vincent." Tifa spoke blandly next to Yazoo, observing the somewhat suggestive scene (Yuffie's cheeks were flushed scarlet, and Vincent's eyes kept darting away from the task at hand). Cloud by the looks of it had gone out from the bar. The front door to 7th Heaven was left open a margin, where a cool breeze sifted past the crowd of children, over the counter and through Yazoo's tresses.

Gesturing with a small wave of her hand to the stack of plates on the counter, she said, "Let's sort through these, and then we can help put up the wallpaper – the old one's nearly all peeled."

Yazoo assumed that Tifa was going to work silently as they cleared up the kitchen, and for a few minutes, that was how it was. The children were talking more animatedly with Loz, and Vincent, with Yuffie's help, was attempting to free his hair and shoulders from the dust that had fallen from the light. It isolated Yazoo and Tifa, perhaps serving to remind them that they were stood alongside each other, separating good plates from old plates.

"So…" Tifa started. "You're into laundry, what else?"

Yazoo cringed at how it sounded. Having laundry as his hobby was far too feminine; it was cramping his style. Tifa was laughing at his contorted face.

"There's nothing wrong with liking laundry." Her eyes reflected amusement, possibly admiration. "The other day, I asked if Cloud would help me with the ironing – he looked at me as though he'd never heard what it was."

Yazoo looked up from a chipped, flower-patterned plate. Didn't Cloud help with the housework? Now that he thought about it, Cloud did bring in the money to keep so many children at 7th Heaven. Was it a good enough excuse though?

His stomach dropped a few more inches when a nauseous reminder cropped up in his head: that he too did nothing much to help round the house.

"I'll…I'll help if you want." Yazoo ran his tongue over his teeth, wondering why it was so hard to offer a hand. Why were his palms sweating? "Next time you do the laundry…I'll help."

Yazoo was in the living room when night finally took its toll and shadowed 7th Heaven in grim darkness; however, being inside and curled up cosily on the sofa,his mood was hardly affected.

Tifa had brought down an item from the attic, sweeping off the thick layer of dust before setting it on the table and challenging Loz to a game of chess.

"Round two of our fight?" she had joked. Unsurprisingly, Marlene and Owen (who followed Loz endlessly as though they were stuck to him) sat on the rug by Loz, colouring with felt tips whilst looking up occasionally to see how the chess was progressing.

Yazoo sat on the right hand side of Tifa, clutching a warm mug of tea. At first, drinking tea in the evening just before bed was something only Tifa did, but since Yazoo tended to spend the evenings with her, she now always made two mugs. It was a nice way to round off the day, and if Yazoo was to be honest with himself, he enjoyed watching hot water transform itself to a rich brown with the simple addition of a teabag.

Loz and Tifa's game of chess was interesting to watch for Yazoo. Not only was he content in sitting still, sipping on his tea, he was at ease when observing Loz's antics. Leaning back with his hand picking at the frayed edges of his sling, the older brother's face was scrunched in thought, eyes flicking from piece to piece.

"Hmm," he said after some thought. "Not bad, Tifa."

He pushed forward a castle, and out the corner of his eye, Yazoo saw Tifa frown. He leaned forwards a little more to study the chessboard. As Tifa took up a horse with two fingers, Loz's eyes flashed, and it would have passed unnoticed if the corners of his mouth didn't twitch slightly. Yazoo knew that look, and put it to his advantage.

"Don't move the horse," he said lowly, "that's what he wants you to do. Move the pawn, and you'll fork two of his pieces."

Tifa complied, and Loz groaned, sinking back in his armchair, fingers drumming on his stomach.

"I should've guessed you'd interrupt this fight as well," he muttered. Tifa looked up from the chessboard.

"As well?" She turned round to look at Yazoo so quickly, he nearly received a mouthful of her dark hair.

Loz gave her a tired, almost fed up smile, one hand reaching up to his floppy fringe, which, due to the lack of gel, fell over his eyes every now and then and had to be pushed back regularly.

"Yeah, that was Yazoo on the phone when we fought." He jerked his head in Yazoo's direction, adding out the corner of his mouth, "He might not look it, but he's a real bully."

Yazoo was ready to roll his eyes at Loz's remark, however, as the oldest brother moved a pawn one square forward to the end of the board, grinning.

"There we go, my Queen's back now."

"I'm drawing it." Marlene straightened up from her bent position, holding in one hand a black felt tip pen and in the other, Loz's white queen. Scattered idly around her knees were the rest of his taken pieces.

"But I need it now – all of my next moves are planned around her…" explained Loz.

"How about drawing another piece, Marlene?" Tifa suggested. She then arched her eyebrows at Loz, slyly adding, "Or better still, give up with getting your Queen back."

It was amazing how powerful Marlene's eyes could be, Yazoo noted. It seemed that Loz couldn't even win an argument with a child, and was surprisingly helpless as Marlene refused to give in to his weak pleadings: according to her, her drawing was far more important than Loz's victory over Tifa.

Yazoo looked on with a smile at first, but felt a pleasant ripple somewhere in the bottom of his stomach, working its way up his throat. Yazoo couldn't hold it in any longer, and with an uncharacteristic snort, cracked a wide grin as he laughed.

A warm feeling washed over him, soothing and relaxing, and he was pretty sure it wasn't the tea.

A/N: Don't ask me why I decided to make Yazoo's favourite hobby the laundry, though I do think that out of the three brothers, Yazoo's the mumsy one. Anyways, hope you liked it, and review, yeah? It won't hurt, promise.