A/N: Since the previous chapter had very little conversation and action, I really hope this chapter makes up for it! Thank you all for your reviews! Eventually, you'll get to see where I'm going with Vincent and Reno in this. Thanks to anonymous reviewers pet, Sephirothfanboy1, Curry Bird and Clotifan for their reviews. I've got two replies:
To anonymous reviewer 'pet': Thanks for pointing out the problems with the first load of chapters. I'll be sure to read through and improve them when I have the time, because they do need a lot of checking over. Thank you for the reviews!
To Clotifan: It's a shame you don't like KadajYuffie, but you do have some fair points. Thanks for taking the time to write them down. If anything, I'm glad to hear you like LozYuffie :) I love that pairing too.
Warning: I'll also take this opportunity to stress that there'll be some minor suggestive themes from here on, but nothing major, since they'll be put on a different site. I'm aiming to keep this fic 'T', but if you disagree, please let me know and I'll change it.
Disclaimer: All characters and settings are copyright to Square Enix –sigh–.
Kuro to Gin
Black and Silver
Chapter 21: Spite
Yazoo was pretending to be sleeping. He had opted to confine himself in his room, fully clothed and settling under the bedsheets. Several times, Tifa had come in to ask him if he wanted to eat anything, but on all occasions, Yazoo lay still, apparently asleep, covering the telltale signs of half open eyes with his hair and hand. She had closed the door, leaving him in the dark and only the noise of Sierra's engines whirring to soothe his troubled mind.
He was sick to the stomach, even with his travel sickness quelled by the tranquiliser. He wasn't feeling physically sick though, more so sickened. It was something no tranquiliser or medicine could get rid of, a sickness unique to Yazoo alone, one caused by the sudden leap from blissful ignorance to the torturous truth. From his darkened thoughts, Vincent spoke to him, retelling and reliving.
"Sit down. I will tell you everything, and you'll understand."
Yazoo rolled over to face the wall. He was so sick, so upset…perhaps even frightened. From the moment he had stepped into the mansion, he had wished straight away to go back home. But now, he wanted for nothing more than to stay behind. Nibelheim and his nightmares went hand in hand; he couldn't bear the thought of having to go back, expecting to carry on as normal with the burden of something better left untold.
"It's a story of over 30 years ago. It's one that you can comprehend to. And if you have any further questions to ask me, I'll answer them quite readily."
It all made perfect sense, and that was what sent Yazoo's mind reeling. The truth about Vincent, Yuffie and what really held them back. The coffin joke that, in its apparent funniness, had conveyed sadness Yuffie rarely allowed herself to reveal.
Could he go ahead with it? Could he search for a way to save himself and Loz from the fate ShinRa had decided for them, while in the background, Vincent continued to suffer? What gave him the right to be saved over Vincent? And if he did find a cure, would he be happy, knowing Vincent wasn't?
"I used to be part of the Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department of ShinRa. You're probably more familiar with the word 'Turk'."
Yazoo chewed a knuckle. He could see Vincent's wistful eyes in his mind, layered with a tinge of regret. How they would suddenly look away from Yazoo, losing their ability to maintain a steady gaze, whenever he mentioned a woman's name. Yazoo remembered his indifference when speaking of how he fell in love, and then without much warning, had his world crash down on him. It appeared that even those who were working for ShinRa in the first place couldn't escape either.
"I was shot for my interference and kept in the basement. Here, on this table."
Vincent had shown him around the basement in a similar fashion to a tour guide in a museum. Yazoo hated every minute of it, and even more so as Vincent's past slowly unfolded. He saw the signs of gory experiments, the faintest stains of blood on the floor, depicting the struggle of a man trying to get up; he even saw the coffin itself, cobwebby and frayed around the edges where the half closed lid had left some of the velvet cushion to be eaten by moths.
"Do you remember the beasts I told you about? You can see some claw marks here. Most of the broken furniture in this house is my fault."
The story ended with Vincent in the basement's doorway, with Yazoo frozen on the spot, chilled by words rather than the draught of the underground passage. It was clear why Vincent had brought himself along for the trip. To show him the truth. To prove that everything was up to ShinRa company. No searching or wishing or hope could change it.
"When I said Nibelheim only brought misery…I wasn't lying."
Tifa succeeded in her pursuit of Yazoo when they arrived back at the bar. Throughout the flight back from Nibelheim, during the times when Yazoo could no longer get away with feigning sleep, he conversed reluctantly. Not only was he nervous and somewhat lost following Vincent's confession, he picked up on some odd behaviour from Tifa. She seemed eager to steer the topic of conversation away from what she had been doing in Nibelheim. She also refused to explain why she had abruptly handed him a bunch of lilac flowers, only saying flatly, "They were left over."
Yazoo couldn't quite understand, but despite his confusion, he opted to ask no further questions. If Tifa wanted to keep quiet, then that was fine, since (he reminded himself darkly) one Nibelheim story was enough for the time being.
Several things happened in the time it took for Yazoo to walk up the front steps to the door, carrying the flowers and his folder. He was shocked to hear so much shouting coming from inside, Tifa had managed to grab his elbow and knock him off balance, and in the short space of time that Yazoo met Vincent's gaze, he found he couldn't look at him as easily as he used to be able to.
Vincent held the door open; Cid pushed past Yazoo, launching into a long stream of curses and grumbles. It was only after a few moments that Yazoo realised that the pilot was talking to Cloud, who was in the hallway, tying the laces of his boots.
Tifa, still hanging onto him forcefully, took him aside and muttered, "Listen, Vincent doesn't act out of spite." Her eyes made sure no one else was listening, before she added, "He really wants to help you find a way to get better. He didn't tell you his story to dig at you or make you feel worse."
Yazoo wanted to ask Tifa what Vincent's true intention was, because he had succeeded in making him feel worse. He had never pitied anyone so badly but himself and his brothers, but now, that fact had changed. He pitied Vincent. Wished he could do something that would help.
The mixed emotions of horror, sickness and fear wouldn't leave him, and with them, he was in no frame of mind to want to have a lengthy talk with Tifa. He squeezed past her into the bar itself to find a vase for his wilting flowers. He was rather surprised – and guilty – that even hearing Tifa murmur a half-hearted, "I'll go get some coffee for everyone" didn't make him want to run back and talk to her.
The source of laughter and shouting was the bar itself. The chairs and tables had been moved round the edge of the room, and sat in the middle were the children, Yuffie and Loz. Pieces of paper were strewn across the floor, in a very similar way to how Yazoo's folder had done so, but instead of graphs and reports, there were drawings upon drawings. Yazoo recognised some to be Loz's because of the way the hands looked more like giant bits of popcorn.
Marlene was exchanging marker pens with Arthur. Denzel was complaining about how Erica had ruined his drawing. One way or another, the children were playing, making a creative mess, and sat in the middle of the floor were Loz and Yuffie, drawing not on paper, but on each other.
Yuffie seemed intent on making as much noise as possible, laughing (bordering on screaming) hysterically. Loz was fumbling for the mirror on the floor, shouting only inches away from Yuffie's face.
"A dog! Dogs don't have freckles!"
Yazoo quirked a brow, ducked under the counter and took out a vase. He reached for the tap, but another hand got there first.
"Vincent doesn't want you to feel sorry for him. If anything, he wants you to fight. To not end up like him."
Tifa filled up the vase, put in the flowers and set it aside, effectively leaving nothing to distract Yazoo. She rummaged around for the coffee, knocking his elbow out the way.
"Hey Tifa, you're back!" Marlene had scrambled onto her feet. Several other children followed suit, throwing aside their pens and paper. Tifa walked round the counter to embrace them. Yazoo saw this as an opportunity to escape (both from Tifa and Loz, whose overly cheerful mood was getting annoying), but he stopped in his tracks when Tifa snapped impatiently, "No, don't run away."
Yazoo turned round. Tifa's uncharacteristic anger seemed to have punctured what would have been a warm welcome back hug from the children. Even Yuffie and Loz had stopped laughing, looking up from their drawing. Yazoo only just noticed how they were in such close proximity to each other; how Yuffie, on her knees, was only steadied by a hand resting on Loz's knee as she drew. Yazoo supposed that from the way she leaned forwards to draw on him, Loz had a very good view of down her top.
"…Hey, uh, had a good trip Tifa?" Yuffie called over. "I didn't know you were in the bar. Hi Yazoo," she added. Yazoo gave a weak wave in response, concentrating more on resisting the urge to laugh at her face.
"What has Loz done to you, Yuffie?" Tifa asked the question that had been bugging Yazoo. There were prominent whiskers on each of Yuffie's cheeks, complete with dark rings around her eyes. Her nose had even been coloured pink.
"Well, I'm a cat, aren't I," Yuffie stated, shrugging her shoulders as though it was obvious. Yazoo gave Loz a pointed look, but it went unnoticed, for the older brother was very interested in anything but Yazoo's eyes. "I drew on Loz by accident, and we just got a bit carried away," concluded Yuffie. She got onto her feet, standing akimbo.
"And what's Loz meant to be?" Tifa looked over Denzel's shoulder. Yazoo stared at his brother's now freckled face, complete with a black eye and nose.
"A dog with freckles," mumbled Loz. "Yuffie can't draw."
"They've been playing with each other all day," Owen said tiredly, sounding rather disappointed. "And the whole of yesterday. I swear at one point, Yuffie called him 'Lozzy'."
"I did not! Brat!" Yuffie spat with sudden fury.
"What kind of name is that anyway?" interjected Loz. His gaze met Yazoo's at last, expecting for some kind of support from him as well. However, Yazoo found that he couldn't take his brother seriously at all with such a stupid face on. What seemed more annoying was that Loz was making no effort to wipe it off either. Yazoo turned his back to him and watched the kettle boil. Behind him, everyone continued to talk. Yuffie and Loz stood out the most, though that could have been due to their loud voices or Yazoo only listening to what he wanted to.
"Anyway, while you two were gone, we took great care of the kids, just like you asked us," Yuffie declared. "We tidied the living room for you, made paper cranes and paper chains…"
"Though that made loads of mess and we had to spend the rest of the afternoon clearing up," chipped in Loz. "And Cloud had some local deliveries, so we helped him with those."
"You couldn't do much with that arm of yours though."
"I'll have you know that I can move three fingers now."
"That's great to hear," Tifa commented lightly. "Your arm will be better in no time."
Yazoo was only half-listening. He personally found the wisps of steam far more interesting. When the kettle had finished boiling, he got out the milk, several mugs and a tray. Perhaps he was being so sour because Loz had had a fun time, and he hadn't. Maybe he was still a bit in shock after the whole trip. It might've even been Tifa's optimism that was infuriating him.
Marlene's voice suddenly piped up from behind him. "Is Yazoo upset, Tifa? He doesn't look very happy."
Yazoo stopped making the coffee, startled. When he turned round, all eyes were on him and Tifa, who was knelt down with the children. Loz shifted from foot to foot awkwardly.
"I'm not upset," Yazoo stated clearly. "I was thinking. Zoned out again."
Marlene was unconvinced, crossing her arms. Yuffie arched her eyebrows. Determined to make at least one cup of coffee, Yazoo turned back round.
"Yazoo's not upset," Tifa spoke firmly. "We just need to talk, that's all. Right, since Uncle Cid's round, you'll need to clear up before he starts to complain."
There were the sounds of paper shuffling and the clatters of marker pens. Yazoo counted on his fingers just exactly how many cups of coffee they were requiring.
"Seven," Tifa answered for him, setting down an extra two mugs. "We've got quite a lot of company today. There's lots to talk about. Poor Cid must be so tired from all that piloting…"
She stopped talking for a moment, eyeing him. Then, she muttered, "Look. If you give up, what am I supposed to do? Give up too?"
The sudden change in conversation was obvious, although by the way Tifa sounded, she had meant to tell him for a while. Her stern face melted away, giving him an insight into a frail, bothered woman. He looked back guiltily. Within moments, Tifa had sniffed loudly, flinging her arms round his neck and pulling him into a rushed, uncomfortable hug that was her height. Her grip was strong and desperate, and the kiss on his cheek was lacking affection, headed by worry.
He realised he could no longer ignore her. It wasn't fair at all. She was so firm in finding a cure for him, and Vincent was apparently the same. It was still a wonder as to why they cared so much for him, considering his origins and actions.
He mumbled an apology, wondering whether Tifa had even heard it. Over Tifa's shoulder, he noticed Owen was nudging Denzel's ribs, pointing. Loz and Yuffie smiled awkwardly, and the latter said loudly, "We're uh…going to wash our faces. We look a bit silly."
Tifa withdrew from Yazoo, regaining her usual composure, clearing her throat and fussing over the coffee again. She got some juice for the children, and with an awkward gesture since she was busy carrying a tray, she asked for him to follow.
"Um, by the way, Yazoo," she said in an undertone, watching Loz go into the living room, "Cid doesn't know about us."
"Right." Yazoo caught on immediately. As he headed for the hallway, he noticed that the stem of one of the flowers was not quite touching the water in the vase. He paused, letting Tifa go on ahead. He poked the flower further in. Satisfied, he went into the living room. Unsurprisingly, it was Cid who was leading the conversation.
"– straight to Nibelheim and back…not a word! No 'thank you' or anything grateful!"
"It's not like you were making it easy for him," Vincent supplied, accepting a coffee from Tifa with his good hand. Yazoo sat down in the armchair slightly apart from the others. When Yuffie came in, Yazoo swore he saw her give a defiant lift of the chin, aimed at Vincent. Nobody else seemed to notice this, and thankfully, no one really acknowledged him either.
The conversation over coffee unfolded quickly, hopping from stories to stories, a lot of which Yazoo had no idea about, confirming his idea that he had only been brought along out of pity. Loz did his best, Yazoo had to admit, asking questions and talking with Yuffie, but he was treated to fierce glares from Cid whenever his mouth opened.
Tifa left the room a long time after the coffee had ran out; Yazoo didn't think much of it. He was absorbed in his daydreams (consisting of Loz's pen-drawn face, an experimental basement and a piano) to really take notice of anything going on around him. However, when Tifa came back, she addressed him.
"There's a telephone call for you, Yazoo."
It was mainly curiosity that took Yazoo from his chair to the phone upstairs. Who would telephone 7th Heaven and ask for him? What business did anyone have with him?
He guessed the answer as soon as he picked up the handset. The sound of a deep inhale of smoke confirmed it.
"Hello Reno," Yazoo said dully.
"Hey," came the answer. "How was Nibelheim?"
Yazoo frowned. He doubted he could explain over the phone, let alone to Reno, how he found Nibelheim. He answered with a, "…Not useful."
"Oh well, worth a shot. Bring along whatever you managed to recover to lunch tomorrow. I'm on duty then, and since it's my duty to watch you, I'm inviting you to a Turk's lunch."
Yazoo knew that Reno was grinning, even if he couldn't see it. There was something about the way he spoke that pointed straight to it.
"Your job is to watch me?"
"Part of ShinRa's service. Emotional support, random ideas, a simple chat – it's all in the bag. You know where The Hare is? Never mind, ask Tifa. 1 'o' clock sharp at Hare. How does it sound? Lot better than hanging round 7th Heaven again."
"…Sure," Yazoo muttered, "if you're so anxious to see me. A bit short notice…"
"We're on a tight schedule."
"Yes," Yazoo said impatiently, "but I've only just got back. How did you know when to ring?"
A chuckle. "Oh come on Yazoo. Since when does an airship pass unnoticed?"
A/N: I'm getting into the swing of the next chapter already. I was set on that chapter long before this one. This was a struggle to get through, but hey, it's done. Next chapter is all about Reno and his motives as to why he's being so nice to Yazoo.
I'll also thank people who submitted ideas/hates/requests for my next fic. It's a Kadaj fic, but with no romance save for mild YazooTifa. As always, I would really appreciate a review from you :) Thanks for taking the time to read!