Entanglement

Chapter 3 — Intertwine

By Crystal Snowflakes

Logically, Yuffie knew that finding comfort at the bottom of a beer bottle—three beer bottles, to be exact—was immature and stupid. In her defense though, those were also words that people often used to describe her. So in a sense, it wasn't truly her fault that she was sitting at a dingy bar, alone, drinking away her sorrows.

It wasn't like she could share her issues with anyone either; she didn't want or need her friends to worry. Plus, she didn't think they would ever understand; and it would just make them feel worse because there was nothing they could do to help. Like them, she hadn't really realized the full implications of being the future Empress of Wutai until recently—though if she had ever actually paid attention to her tutors, she probably would have known. Sure, she'd been prepared to act more mature and make serious decisions, and she was even ready to dress up and sit through daily, boring-ass meetings.

What she didn't realize—had never realized before—was that she was expected to get married and bear spawns for her so-called-husband. The mere thought of getting married to someone she didn't choose, didn't know, didn't love, and then having to have a child with him—it was nauseating. And the idea of motherhood terrified her—had always terrified her. She was barely an adult; how could she possibly know what to do with a baby?

Closing her eyes, she took a long deep swig of her drink before she slammed the empty bottle down on the countertop, a scowl crossing her face.

She had always known that it was only a matter of time before her responsibilities caught up to her, but she had always thought that she would have more time and be ready to face them when they came. It was her throne, her country, her people, and she would grow into that position of power because the idea that she wouldn't was inconceivable. Only, she had a feeling now that she would never truly be ready.

How could she ready herself for a lifetime of unhappiness and confinement?

It was childish to think that she would ever be ready. And now that her time of freedom was growing short, her chest felt so tight that she almost couldn't breathe—she felt like she was suffocating. It didn't help that all she could think about recently was how much of a spoiled brat she was; so many people would be willing to die to be in her position. And yet, all she could think about was herself.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, she motioned at the bartender—Sean? Joe? Tommy? Johnny?—for another beer before burying her head in her arms. She wanted to scream, she wanted to sob, and she wanted to laugh, but she wasn't so far gone that she'd do it here; she wasn't interested in having a public meltdown.

At that moment, she wished that she could just be an ordinary person living a dull day-to-day life. It was a stupid wish though; she would never be happy being an ordinary person either—it was too boring. Godo's scolding words about her immature and unladylike behaviour echoed in her head over and over again.

"Another beer for the pretty lady!" The warm and easy voice of the bartender rang out next to her.

It wasn't often that she wasn't in a social mood; she stayed still for a long moment until she heard the soft clink of the beer bottle against the tabletop and the retreating footsteps before lifting her head. By that time, she was thankfully alone again. Her hand grasped the neck of the new beer bottle so tightly her knuckles turned white before she forced her fingers to relax; taking another long sip, she stared blankly at the flickering television in the corner of the bar.

It didn't take long for her to finish the newly ordered beer, and as much as she wanted to order another one, she knew she had to be responsible. Inwardly, she scoffed at the idea. She wasn't drunk—not yet. But her vision was starting to swim, and she knew that any bad publicity wouldn't do her image any good; it didn't help that her face was slowly being recognized by the public over time. It was a good thing that this particular bar was fairly lifeless, though that was the reason she'd been spending more time here as of late.

Leaving a few notes under an empty bottle, she tried to hop off the stool, stumbling slightly in the process, before snagging her weapon off the floor and holstered it properly. She heard the barkeeper yell out a loud 'cheers', and her head turned slightly as she gave a backward wave. The hint of red—bright, obnoxious and familiar—made her shake her head in amusement.

It reminded her of someone else—someone she hadn't quite been able to get out of her mind, especially after that particular hospital visit a few weeks ago. The way his eyes had softened when he held Lily as he gazed at her—it had caused her breath to catch and…

She shook the thoughts out of her mind as her boots echoed on the wooden floor, and when she reached the doorway, she lingered for a second, inhaling deeply.

Back to reality then, Kisaragi.

Breathing out, she squared her shoulders and pushed open the door.

The warm evening breeze ruffled her hair as she looked up to see faint rays of moonlight pushing past the breaks in the clouds. Edge was always busy, so it was strange to barely see any people in sight, barely hear any cars in the vicinity; she must have stayed much later than she had intended.

With another sigh, she began to make her way back to Seventh Heaven. There was no need to loiter around and make Tifa worry, though truth be told, it wouldn't be all that out of character for Yuffie to not show back up to the guest room. That, and Tifa was probably too busy with Lily to be heeding much attention to her.

Yuffie couldn't stop the small snort of bitterness from escaping her nose. As if she needed more excuses not to want a spawn. But seeing Tifa, the most responsible person she knew, struggling with her baby day in, day out, was a sobering reminder that Yuffie was not ready to become a mother.

Ever.

As she continued to walk, she stretched her arms over her head and let out a small tired groan; she blamed it on the long-ass video call she had had to endure and suffer from because of Godo earlier in the day.

Not for the first time, she wished for anyone else to be her father. Not only had he always been an absent father, but now it seemed like he was willing to trade in his daughter's happiness for his—their—country's happiness. Yuffie was fully capable of running the goddamn country on her own without a trophy husband. Now, if only old, antiquated traditions didn't dictate such backwards-ass thinking.

A sudden shiver could be felt at the base of her neck, and she became instantly aware that she was being watched. Her senses must have been more dulled from the alcohol than she had expected. Instead of confronting whoever it was head-on, she pretended to not notice their presence as she continued on walking, careful to take detours far away from the bar; the last thing Tifa and Rude needed was more trouble.

Occasionally, she would take a discreet look backward, only to be grudgingly impressed when she couldn't even catch a glimpse of anyone. Whoever it was that was following was skilled—more skilled than the usual criminals she'd had to deal with. Annoyed, because she just knew they'd be no match for her if she wasn't suffering from the alcohol buzz, she decided to try to lose them in the dark alleyways of the city she almost knew like the back of her hand.

Except it seemed like they knew it like the back of their hands too.

She led her stalker through a maze of twists and turns, through as many abandoned buildings as she could, and still, she could not shake them off. It was fricken frustrating. She didn't have the patience to deal with this; she wanted to go back to the bar and crawl underneath her warm blankets before letting her head sink into the pillow.

"Who the hell are you and why are you following me, you creep?" she hollered out towards the general direction of where she could sense her tail.

For a long moment, nothing happened, and the silence of the city was almost deafening. Standing in the middle of the street with her fists clenched at her sides looking crazy as she yelled into the nothingness, she almost started second-guessing herself. Maybe she'd had a little too much to drink and it must have been affecting her head. No one would have the nerve to follow her, especially with her massive weapon strapped to her back. But her gut was telling her something different.

"C'mon, show yourself!" she tried again.

Her heart jumped when she heard faint footsteps approaching from the alley closest to her, and one of her hands went up to her shuriken in anticipation of a fight. The approaching figure was hidden by the shadows of the building as they crept closer, and when they finally stepped out of the alleyway, the dim street lights illuminated them.

Whatever—whoever—she had been expecting, this wasn't it.

He wasn't it.

"What the hell?" she muttered, her eyebrows creasing together as her hand lowered. "You? Why?"

"Makin' sure you get home safe, brat," Reno retorted in a calm drawl when he was mere steps away. She never understood how he managed to walk with that swagger—with his hands in his pockets and his body slouched forward. "Edge ain't safe at night, not even for someone like you."

His concern—and his backhanded compliment—for her was a surprise, but instead of showing how she really felt, her lips twisted into a scowl. "I'm not a damsel in distress! I don't—"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Never said you were, dipshit."

She spluttered for a split second, caught off guard from his response, before she gathered her wits again and shook her fists at him to continue her sentence. "I don't need your help!"

"But you're clearly drunk," he stated with raised eyebrows.

"I am not!" she hissed back at him irately. Something about the way he said it grated on her nerves so badly that she was tempted to stomp over and push him down till he fell over. Instead, she reminded herself that she had to be responsible and crossed her arms as her scowl darkened.

"Sure." His voice dripped with sarcasm, and she felt her face glow hot from embarrassment.

"I'm fine. Sure, I've had a few drinks but—"

"Look, princess," he cut her off again, and if he was standing any closer, she would have hit him. "I know you hate to admit it, but you're way off your game, yo." He sounded almost like his usual, nonchalant self, if not for the way there was a slight edge to his voice. "You didn't even notice me sittin' two tables over."

How did she miss him? Though if she was honest with herself, she hadn't really been paying close attention to her surroundings, which probably wasn't the wisest, now that she thought about it.

"I did!" The lie came easily to her. "I just didn't wanna talk to you—"

"I don't believe you," he said smoothly. "You'd never give up the chance to have a pissin' contest—"

"D'you really make it a habit to cut people off when you're talking to them?" she hissed out. "Or am I the only one who gets the pleasure—"

"What I really wanna know," he murmured, his tone deceivingly light, "is why you've been drinkin' by yourself." Being constantly interrupted was so frustrating that she was ready to scream. His eyes were staring at her intently, and when all she did was glare back defiantly, he continued talking, "You're a social drinker, so the fact that you knowingly went somewhere none of your little cronies go and had a few by yourself—"

"Stop being such a stalker, you ass," she bit out angrily, annoyed that he had called her out.

And then before she could suppress her urge, she lurched at him, arms flailing. She'd be happy—pettily so—to hurt him just a little for that remark. Instead, she tripped forward clumsily in a jumble of arms and legs, and he caught her in his arms before she face-planted against the pavement. The scent of aftershave, mint and smokes overwhelmed her senses and she suddenly found it hard to think straight. It was probably a good thing that her face was hidden from him.

"Anyone tell you you're clumsy as hell?" he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

Irritated, she pulled away from him and raised her head to glower at him. "Anyone tell you you're an asshole?"

"All the time. You gonna answer me 'bout the drinks?" he asked, a smug smirk tugging at his thin lips. She wasn't sure what it was, but sudden, angry tears blurred her vision; she swiped at them impatiently with the back of her hand before her fists clenched at her sides.

What a shitty day. Not only did she have to suffer a long-ass conversation with Godo regarding all her responsibilities and obligations, but now she had to suffer a damn interrogation from a nosy Turk—it wasn't even his goddamn business!

Just as she was about to turn around and walk away because she was so fucking done with him—with the day—she felt his hand wrap around her wrist. She scowled. Jaws clenched, she was ready to snap her leg up to kick him in the chin when he jerked her towards him, throwing her briefly off balance.

"You okay, brat?"

Her stomach flip flopped at the concern in his voice. The touch of his calloused fingers against her skin made her breath catch in her throat, and against her better judgement, she peered up at him. Her automatic response was to snap at him and scream at him that she was fine, but truthfully, she wasn't. She'd been hiding her problems and keeping her feelings bottled up from everyone else for so long that she felt like she was losing control and that she was going to explode.

And for the first time in a long time, someone asked if she was okay. It had been the last thing she had expected to come out of his mouth.

His eyes glowed eerily in the dimness of the night, and his hair was set ablaze vividly in the glare of the street light. She studied the way he was looking at her, and even though she knew he had probably asked out of courtesy, she couldn't help but wonder if he cared—just a little bit.

"No," she said, her voice barely above a whisper; the word escaped her before she could change her mind.

He tightened his hold on her, his thumb rubbing against her inner wrist—against her pulse point. "You wanna talk 'bout it?"

Her gaze shifted from his eyes before landing to his gaunt cheekbones, to his strong jaw line and finally, to the way his mouth was drawn in a thin line. And then she remembered the way her chest had tightened in that hospital room and how hard it had been to keep him out of her thoughts since that day.

Plus, what did she have to lose? If not now, then when? With the way Godo was pushing for her to find a husband, she could very well be married next month.

Biting her lips with uncharacteristic uncertainty, she swallowed; her heart pounded wildly as his gaze trailed to her lips. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she couldn't tell if it was because she was nervous, or if it was because her body was telling her that she was about to do something downright dumb, and it was warning her to abort, abort, abort.

But at the same time, she couldn't help but count the amount of times she had ignored her inner thoughts and things had turned out fine in the end.

"Nah," she said again, flippantly this time, before her hands reached out to grasp onto the lapels of his jacket; his hold on her wrist loosened.

"Don't start anythin' you don't intend on finishin'," he warned, a harsh breath escaping, his face lowering slightly as he stared her down.

Reaching up, her lips brushed against his just barely, and the softness of his lips surprised her. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to lose herself in him—wanted to be selfish—just for a night. Greedily, her fingers threaded through the hair at the base of his neck to pull him down towards her.

His tongue ran along her lips before his teeth nipped at her bottom lip, causing her to let out a breathy gasp. Then he lifted his head to stare at her, his gaze inscrutable. "I ain't someone you bring home to daddy dearest, princess," he reminded her with a husky murmur.

She froze for a mere moment as she digested his words; then her temper flared. The last thing she wanted was to let daddy dearest affect her decisions. He'd have plenty of say about her life later on. But not now.

Not yet.

"Then it's a good thing I don't plan on taking you home," she retorted with a mumble.

"But I do." Reno's low, quiet voice sent shivers of anticipation down her spine. And before she could think twice, his hand went to the small of her back and pulled her towards him, forcing her body to arch into his as his mouth slanted hard over hers.

She felt herself melt against him, and whatever second thoughts she may have had melted away.

Author's Notes: Aaaaand kiss! 3

Completed: March 29, 2021