Theft
The Duplicate
"You like blowing up, huh?" The edge in her voice and the set of her eyes caught his attention. Yuffie Kisaragi was known for throwing tantrums—she would even pull pranks out of pure, unadulterated spite. But, rarely, did Yuffie Kisaragi get angry—at him.
He thought carefully before answering. "I do not enjoy blowing up, Yuffie."
The spoon she had been using clattered into the plate of almond milk pudding, and she did it then—sent him a pitched glare, telling him exactly what she thought of his claim to not take pleasure in self-combustion. "You don't, huh?" Her words cut like a knife; she seldom used her tongue to inflict damage, when she could have easily defaulted to her shuriken. She was livid.
Vincent shifted out of discomfiture. The situation called for someone who could effectively placate her, someone like Tifa. Tifa was not in Gongaga, however. "Your anger seems unfounded—"
Yuffie just short of seized him by the collar and spat into his face. Her fists clenched by her side, and her eyes began to burn strangely. "'Unfounded'?" she echoed incredulously. "You know how many times now I've seen you take something that could've killed you?"
"Yuffie," he sighed, holding his exasperation, "I am immortal." She appeared to be referring to their earlier monster encounter, when he took a particularly lethal blow. It was an entirely logical reaction. He saw the monster's intent to assault her—and knowing Yuffie was very much mortal—he broke formation. She hadn't seemed to glean the monster's design in time, so Vincent assumed, it merely looked to her as if he'd been acting rather suicidal. Still, her fury was unreasonable.
She shook her head, bitterly, lips pressed thin. "It doesn't matter if you think you're freaking invincible, Vincent! It still hurts to look at! You don't think it's possible for people to die of fright?"
The strange blaze in her eyes, he discovered, came from barely checked tears. He felt increasingly distressed. She blinked furiously, her glare fixed upon him. "I don't like seeing people I care about get hurt like that, Vincent." The remaining words were left unsaid, but he heard it as clearly as if she had told him: You scared me. Yuffie gave him one last condescending look before brusquely returning to her pudding, walloping the innocent thing with a vicious fervor.
Finally, Vincent deigned to speak. "Nor do I," he murmured quietly. Yuffie's eyes flickered in his direction, the taut lines of her countenance softening at his words. Licking her spoon clean, she slid the plate over, and grudgingly asked: "Want some?"
A/N: Yuffie doesn't strike me as someone who would be angry for long. And have you guys tried almond milk pudding? It's delectable. I had an almond milk pudding phase a couple months back. Now, I'm over it. Thank you for reading! Comments and critique welcomed. Have a yummy day!