Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy Seven, characters, places, etc. All rights belong to Square and their respected owners.
The Flame of You… Chapter 15"Gawd, this blows," she muttered under her breath.
Her compatriot did not heed to her slight grumble, as he, himself was not in the greatest of moods.
All day, the sky had shed a relentless downfall of rain, chilling every sensitive nerve within his foul being. It was not the incredible truth that he could have discomfort from the harsh elements; even monsters knew instinctual pain.
The bloody orbs glared at the dirty worker with apparent disdain. What in the hell was the matter with humans these days? Did they not understand proper eidetic, or simply, to allow them passage? God, humanity could be the epitome of the world's downfall. No God's wonder his temper was on its edge. Dealing with cretins was indeed time consuming.
"Sir," he murmured in a chilling, yet threatening tone. "I ask you again, allow us passage. You have no say over us," he glared ominously.
The sneering digger rubbed his whiskered face with an oily hand. Mocking, "Aye, sir. But you see you do have to answer to me. I do not permit civilians past this area; it's too dangerous. Besides, there's nothing there of importance."
His piety was indeed growing very thin. This man would certainly be the second on his most hated list, of course after Hojo and Reno respectively. He noticed the ogling glance he cast to his love, his mate. How dare he! A lowlife such as this scum held merit to being categorized with parasites. No one had the entitlement to glance upon his intended. The very idea made his inhuman blood boil.
With a jagged whisper, Vincent uttered within his newly deemed foe's ear, "Do not make me regret something within the spur of the moment. You would not approve of a monster ending your pitiful existence with a single whim of my conscious mind. Allow us passage, old man, before I lose my patience."
The rugged man felt the sense of truth within his threatening words; this man would murder him. It was not a question as to how or why the intent glare alone, gave it away. The lovely lady beside him had to be out of her bloody mind as to tie herself with something that looked like a crazed monster. God, his very eyes scared the royal hell of him. Perhaps, he should not have given her that look of interest; her demon obviously caught the gesture and considered his death sentence.
Yes, there was something about this 'thing' that must have intrigued this girl, seeing as she lovingly placed a delicate hand within his boorish appendage, if it could even be called such. How could she stand the presence of this 'thing'? Good God, she must be in love or extremely insane. He debated the latter proved more efficient. Of course, that brief look of submission within his murderous-eyes proved a fleck of humanity within this odious creature. Oh yes, even he, could tell this foul animal held this girl highly within his beastly heart. He had to.
Closing his dark-eyes, he initiated a slight nod. "It appears that I cannot stop you and the lady. However, I cannot promise our aid should you find yourself in a bind. My team has not scouted the entire area. I know a certain spiky-headed fellow with a buxom beauty and a strange lion-creature went through here searching for a girl, they never returned afterward."
Vincent nodded with slim appreciation. Perhaps, humans could be reasonable individuals after all. Hefting Yuffie in a protective embrace, he trudged past the perplexed excavation boss, leaving only the scent of lavender and mixed cologne. Strange concoction indeed. Of course, this was not his matter to concern himself with. He was after all, merely a digger.
****
Yuffie subtly nuzzled his broad shoulder; the light scent of him enticed her. Ah yes, Vincent was truly a man that could even charm something as horrid as her. Even before they separated to begin anew, she had always felt some sort of sentience toward this dark man. Be it his mysterious presence or the sorrowful soul within, she had always pitied him.
He did not want her pity. She realized Vincent was not one that wished for the sympathy of others. His beleaguered state pleaded for more than her kind comfort. No, he wanted something more than her soulful care, his eyes proved as much.
Ah, the bloody orbs that entranced its victims with lusting appeal. Some however, disdained to gaze within the crimson depths and see what lay beyond his abnormal guise, she could see his soul. And that, did more than draw her to his dangerous flame, it consumed her. Every element that made her being, burned within him. She had never felt so different, so complete. The very thought of it did not seem to have meaning. It was as if she placed a trusting hand in his and leapt to her impending death. The freedom and ostensible promise he gave kept her disquiet-eyes open.
With Vincent, she was not afraid anymore. Not only of self-conscious thoughts, but also, everything that created the uncomfortable feeling that rose within her tiny form. It was as if he chased away her nightmares, forever locking them within the bowels of the earth. This creature was not what he seemed. His demonic appearance did not frighten her. Actually, she could not see a monster but a man. Vincent was wrong to call himself a demon when he was far from being one.
Would a monster show compassion? Would a demon sacrifice its time to an insignificant girl? She believed not. No, he was not a demon. Even if she were the only one to see him as such, that was all he needed. She knew he was not happy. Well, that was before he unexpectedly met her. She lightened his shadowed world, made him smile, laugh with true emotion. Vincent was happy. Even though he did not show it all of the time, she knew a level of darkness faded from his despondent form.
A light nudge shattered her thoughts. Looking up, she noticed a light smile traced with mirthful intrigue. "What were you thinking, angel?" he asked softly, his voice holding slight curiosity.
"Nothing really, just that I'm happy I guess."
Vincent felt a light sigh escape her, he also feeling the same peace. Yes, he knew she wasn't lying, but she was certainly thinking on more than being happy. Perhaps, she was pondering upon him, he could only hope.
Hope was something he had lost long ago and never believed he would have again. Every fleck of optimism he obtained, faded when his beloved creator placed him into the hell that was now his life. The thirty-year nightmare went beyond his suspended slumber, it continued until now. For over a week, he had a release from his unending pain. This fraction of days had returned his faith in full and the desire to continue with whatever was left of his life. A life with a content feeling of knowing there were brighter days, a life where he could love again, a life with her.
Yuffie. His Yuffie. The angel that delivered him from his unrelenting hell. She had brought release from his chained torture. How could he ever repay her kindness? He knew. Oh yes, he knew exactly how to reimburse her selfless benevolence. He would give her everything she desired. If only, she would accept his offer. She would. She had to. He could not handle her refusal. It was too late for her to back-out and leave him in the darkness. He needed her.
A small sense of trepidation pulsed through his inhuman veins. She was his compass, his light. He would be forever lost without her kind companionship. He knew this pining was rather unlike him. Of course, people changed. He could change like others had, live a life of semi-normalcy. Even monsters could shed their skins and evolve into something else. Whether it being a horrid appearance, or an ethereal apparition, they too, could amend themselves into something other than what they appeared to be.
He had already shown her his attempt to become someone of merit. Or, at least, something she could bear to be around. Now, if she only conceded into what other details he wished to share with her. Could she accept him for everything he was, his past, his beastly form, everything? He would not ponder upon the negative outcome.
Decide. He could not put this inevitable confession off much longer. He needed to tell her, be honest with her, and he would. By the gods, he would spill every questioning detail out to her. His chances of her acceptance were slim, but he had to try, if not, he would no better than Reno. Well, except for the fact he loved her with his entire heart. And that weighted beyond being a selfish bastard she had claimed to love.
His soul ached to have her consent. He needed an answer and he would soon have one. Whether it be the one he desired or not, she would know his feelings for her. And that was certainly not something to play with. He knew this fluttery feeling was true, untainted love. How could it not be when everything he knew and understood collapsed within his sane mind? The only thing that seemed true was in his arms, and he, refusing to let go. Oh yes, she would soon come to terms with his impractical love. Because, it was certainly as hell not hate.
His divided attention caught view of the shell house within the distance. Yes, the lake. That was where Cloud had sorrowfully laid Aerith to eternal rest. The silly thoughts of her revival seemed hopeless and idealistic. The flower merchant's fate had lain with her murderer long before either came into existence. He was not a firm believer in changed destinies. However, he could see a slim possibility of truth within it. It, of course, happened to him.
He felt Yuffie shift within his grasp when passing the pristine pond. The slight tension could be felt within their nerves; their friend's presence was innately noticed, even if, it were only a whisper upon the cool waters of the Ancient pool. This place was sacred.
It was not hard to notice the slight disturbance in the wind. Well, to his enhanced senses anyway. Vincent had never considered himself to be much of a religious man, nor a firm believer within the paranormal. The atheistic world had made his past beliefs rather hard to obtain loyal faith. Actually, he had not believed in much of anything until being kindly interrupted from his restless sleep. Thank whatever force gave Cloud the initiative to trespass into the insidious depths of the mansion's dark basement.
After Meteor, he returned with the desire to burn the dilapidated mansion to cinders. However, something inside of his damned soul stopped him from striking the idle match. The slight sense of beckoning echoed throughout his tattered mind, pleading for him to enter. Yes, the darkness enveloped him the moment he stepped through the worn threshold.
The shadows he had expected to see were there. Everything within the ominous household wreaked of past memories for him. Never in his life, had he felt a sense of despondency, his humane existence ended within the chilling halls of this purgatory. There was no escape from this hell he had unwillingly bound himself to. Even after Cloud and the others released him from the impenetrable chains, he still returned for more unending pain.
Of course, he altered the hell he had been imprisoned in to something semi-livable. He wouldn't have remodeled had it not been from the silly cause that came to mind. He knew it to be rather insightful to tell anyone that within the darkness of the mansion held one small beam of light. The odd thing only being no light remained within the darkened sky. He had thought it to be another monster at first. Much to his avail, it wasn't.
He could not explain the small transcendence between himself the slant of light. His small amusement melted as the tiny ray faded within the darkness, leaving only the remnants of it being there. Was it a god, or perhaps his former beloved, he would never know. Did it matter anyway?
No, it didn't. He had finally put it behind him, or so he prayed. He was such a fool to dwell upon the past. One could not alter what had already occurred; he understood that. However, he could change the probable future. A future where two people lost and just as lonely could find solace in one another. He knew it was rather petty of him to smile from such giddy beliefs. God, he was a man for crying out loud. And yet, he enjoyed changing his austere attitude to one of a hopeless romantic. Well, for Yuffie anyway.
His dark heart reveled within her happiness; fully knowing he was partially the cause. He never acted happy around the others. No one had ever caused a smile to flash across his leathery-lips as she had. This seraph he carried, had the power to pacify and overpower his unyielding darkness. She had cast part of his shadowed exterior away. Even now, she made his heart quiver with impending desire to become something like her, something pure.
Ah yes, the very cloud lifted from his tainted heart and filled with an alien feeling. The sentiment was too precious to sacrifice. Even Lucrecia could never fill this gap as this tiny Shinobi had. Shinobi. The symbolic name all honoured ninjas within the Wutainese culture bore with unfaltering pride. Oh yes, even this tiny nymph of a girl held dignity for her family and land. Why should she not? It was better than having no home to return to. The dormant town of Nibelheim held no ties to him, he wasn't even from the region. Even in that respect, he was an outsider.
Of course, he did come from somewhere; all things have a beginning. The trivial notion of spontaneous generation was certainly out of the question. He had wished to forget about his shameful introduction to this world. How could she begin to understand what lay beneath the surface of his complex life? She would have to. Yuffie was too strong to allow his past existence addle her brave soul.
With a serrated sigh, he carefully carried her past the soothing pond, trespassing upon the crystalline staircase that Nanaki had spoken of. It was rather odd to see the steps constructed from pure crystal; the Cetran race was certainly ahead of their time.
Through his cautious steps, the gunman made their descent to the revered sight when the flower girl drew her last breath. Vincent could barely sustain his beloved's actions when seeing the grand white-marble altar tainted with battle-worn residue. Oh yes, even the foul plague had left her mark upon this sacred place. The remnants of the blue life-flow stained the sanctified steps with an ominous reminder that a dear friend unknowingly sacrificed her life in order to save theirs. Aerith was truly a martyr.
It had been a little over a year since their last visit, but the fresh memories of sorrow were forever imprinted within their minds. A statue within the marble-esque altar held Aerith's final pose before falling to the bloodless blade of Sephiroth. Yes, the grey effigy held the soulful smile only she could capture. Cloud had personally constructed the statue from memory, revering their esteemed memoriam for the dead Ancient. Every detail captured the flower girl in a frozen pose, her essence and spirit silently screaming from the shaded marble. She was timeless.
Just as the girl beside of him. The thoughtful gaze she cast made his soul mourn for her sadness. If only, he could take away her pain. His angel should not be troubled with heartache; he would not allow it. Yuffie was too precious to endure such agony as he had. No, she would never stumble upon the anguish he had bore for over half of his damned life. By the gods, he would not allow it.
His dark reflection was abruptly interrupted by Yuffie's sudden repellent. She wriggled free from his protective hold and glanced at him with what appeared to be tears. The mere thought of rejection burnt his soul. Shiva, it was such a stupid mistake to bring her here. He mentally cursed himself for breaching the idea to have an excuse to be alone once again. Gods, could he not do anything right?
She cast him a somber look, the epitome of her mourning tore at his demonic heart. No, she did not turn from him in disgust, her cerulean-eyes still held their vacant glint of life. Of course, it was in a sense, his fault. Had he stopped Lucrecia and Hojo's cruel experiments, then Aerith might still reside among the living. On the other hand, the possibility of meeting Yuffie would be impossible. Damn him for being so selfish.
His companion said nothing as she hesitantly proceeded toward the silent altar, her eyes never leaving him. The defensive intuition pulsed through his dead veins, as if urging him to pull her away from an invisible enemy. He knew she would break the moment she graced the silent scene with her presence. The undesired wish to see tears stain her cheeks troubled the beast inside of him. No, he could not bear her to shed the saltine drops that made his heart ache.
A solitary drop fell from an eye as she tore her gaze from Vincent to the altar. So, this was where her dear friend sacrificed her life and for what? The world? Good God, had she not, the possibility of her standing here was thin. Deep down she sincerely commended her brave friend for such nobility. She inwardly regretted her selfish actions; the disrespect of having someone and her friend losing her life was certainly cruel. She wasn't even sure he felt the same way.
Oh yes, Aerith had tried to win Cloud's heart on their mad quest. It was a shame she did not realize Cloud did not even know who he actually was. The poor idiot had believed him self to be a dead man and convinced others of his illusive tales. She could fairly smile that Aerith had partially broken the icy shield around his heart he had created. However, it was Tifa who finally overrode his barricade and rescued Cloud from himself. No wonder Aerith never returned, she did not need to. Why mourn when subtly realizing her friend had found peace?
For so long, Yuffie had mourned Aerith's passing, to the point of hallucination. She never confessed her wild imaginings to anyone, even Tifa. Some things were made to stay hidden within the hearts of those who carry such pain. She never found it important to tell anyone that she imagined her friend comforting her the first time Reno left. It was of course, her subconscious imagination.
She felt warm arms encircle her waist and a light breath gracing her bare neck. Her oceanic-eyes closed halfway, feeling him lightly caress one of her cheeks with his. God, Vincent had a knack for comforting when she needed it most. It was as if he read her conflicting mind. But, that was impractical, right?
Vincent was many things, but a mind reader? Impossible, or was it? Perhaps, his demons had the ability and he never shared the information. Sure, he was never known to hide secrets from anyone, well nothing important anyway. His past, however, intrigued her. The slight sense of curiosity filled her to the point of bluntly asking him. Of course, that would represent itself as rude and she was certainly far from being the annoying teenager others had branded her as.
Her displaced thoughts touched upon another subject she had been meaning to discuss. The ring. Ah yes, the 'gift' she had bought for him out of appreciation. She had wanted to give it to him the day she purchased it, but something had stopped her. The sense of waiting reigned over her grateful intentions and thus, until this moment, she prolonged her gratitude.
Gently sighing, Yuffie placed her hand her pant's pocket and grasped the tiny band. It was now or never. She summoned all of her courage and murmured, "Vincent, I have to tell you something."
"Yuffie, I'm sorry for bringing you here. I should-" he stuttered before she calmly placed a hands to his sorrowful-lips.
"Is that what you think is wrong, Vincent? You worry too much at times!" she gently smiled noticing his relief. "I'm glad you brought me here. Now, I have something for you."
Vincent eyed her with a fleck of curiosity. "Something for me? Yuffie, just your company is all I need. You did not have to-"
"Shh, I wanted to. Besides, I have been meaning to give this to you since Kalm." She murmured, holding the ring in her palm. "I hope you like it, Vincent. I wasn't certain if it was your taste."
He tenderly clasped her hand with his and smiled. "Whatever you have taken the time to give me, I will certainly treasure it."
Yuffie opened her palm and placed the silver band on his right ring finger. "It was a Wutainese general's from what I understand. It's very old, possibly belonging to a great lineage from long ago." She beamed proudly. Her fleeting grin abruptly melted when she noticed his concentrating gaze. He did not like it. Farore, how could she be so dense as to hope he would like something she had picked out? "I'm sorry. I should not have got it for you."
The former Turk wiped a warm tear from her eye. "Do not think that, my dear. It's just I never would have imagined seeing this ring again…"
A russet-brow suddenly rose. "What do you mean? Only someone Wutainese would be able to distinguish this ring as being part of their culture. Unless, you're very smart and read a lot about other countries."
Vincent fingered the ring thoughtfully and gently sat himself upon the stone floor. His human hand enclosed around hers and silently beckoned her to sit beside of him. His heart pounded heavily against his chest. God, his dreaded confession had finally come at last. Now, she would know who he was before having the pleasure of showing his hideous guise. He feared to see the look of disgust upon her face, but he would at least have the decency to be honest with her.
"Yuffie," he quietly whispered. "There are a few things you should know, things you need to know. Please, allow me to explain this. I have needed to tell you for some time. Now seems to be the perfect time as any."
He hesitated for a moment, waiting for her silent consent to listen. Her cerulean orbs held his attention as he finally found the courage to speak. "You were half right about this ring. It did belong to a general but also a lord." He cast his red irises to the cooling waters. "There was once another family that resided within the sun-touched valleys of Wutai.
This lineage was known as the Yoshijirou line. Great warriors and technological advancements derived from them. For centuries, the Yoshijirou reigned peacefully with another family, the Kisaragi. However, all things must come to an end and as a result, did their alliance. The innate desire of power plagued the minds of both families, thus corrupting them into a wretched feud. Allied friends turned to untrustworthy enemies, spreading conflict and hatred across the land. The future shame they reflected upon Wutai still remains unsaid.
Their feud had reached a new climax when two members of the Kisaragi line murdered their adversary's spouse. This period was known as the Yoshijirou campaign. For years, members of both houses fought and made one lesser to the other's side. Paupers and merchants could only watch in horror as both leaders battled for superior dominance. Civil wars spread like a raging fire, fueled with the burning aspiration of putting an end to their enemy's line forever.
Both families were not only known for physical combat, but also magical attacks. The myth of each family acquiring a god-like orb to summon has been handed down orally for centuries. It was deduced that the gods bestowed opposite entities to each household. Yoshijirou received the infamous, reviving Phoenix. The fiery properties and restoration skills opposed the watery deity of the Kisaragi. The Summon you gave Shera needs no glorious introduction. However, both lines loathed each other for attaining such power. This jealously was one of the main reasons the feud began.
To prevent a bloody battle for the Summons, the Yoshijirou's oldest son sacrificed Phoenix, praying it would end their senseless grudge. Regrettably, it didn't.
As the years passed, the number of relatives became less. Neighbouring families refused to intermarry with either side. It was said the peoples' vengeance was to see both families fade from their corrupted land; hoping peace would once more be restored to Wutai. If only, it were truly so." Vincent rubbed his temples with the brass claw.
He claret-eyes gently examined her with apparent anxiety. The remote questioning within the placid orbs made his heart burn with trepidation. She would hate him for this; he knew it. "You seem to have questions, my dear. I understand you wonder why I am explaining this, when it seems unimportant. However it is and I shall rationalize why."
Vincent did not wait for a countering comment. He knew she silently urged him to continue. With a jagged sigh, he murmured, "Where was I? Ah yes, the destruction of both lines. The commoner's plan did not work to their benefit. Instead, they began to place their faith upon on of the last remaining members of the Yoshijirou line. His name was Akira Yoshijirou, a harsh man with a stern sense of justice. His motives and ideologies of leadership won the hearts of many.
He launched a seven-year campaign against the abominable Kisaragi lord, Yamato." He eyed her with an expressionless gaze. "Your grandfather, Yuffie.
The fathers of both houses fought in the Shao-kin form of martial arts. It was demanded that all be tutored within this style of self-defense. The deadly dispute between them seemed to last for hours, when in reality, it transpired for only a few minutes. Yoshijirou was on the verge of victory until Kisaragi pulled a tiny dagger from his robe and stabbed him.
Nothing could be done for the fallen lord; Kisaragi became the final victor in the end. All remnants of the Yoshijirou line were mainly comprised of fading memories. Their grave markers only remembered the members of the illustrious household, until the new lord had them exhumed and cast into the sea. He found it a just punishment and disgrace to a dead line. Well, almost dead, anyway.
One survivor from the Yashijirou sadly watched their relatives and ancestors' resting corpses be shamefully tossed into the sea. The Kisaragi's certainty to completely wipe out the Yoshijirou line was obsolete. The remaining members united all families within Wutai by marriage. Thus, ensuing the end of the once-proud Yoshijirou."
Yuffie gazed into his saddened-eyes with utter concern. What compelled him to speak of a history that did not involve him? How could he know about her family's past conflicts with others? And how in the hell did he find out about that other family? In truth, Vincent was beginning to frighten her. He knew things that were kept secret, hidden from the world. Her docile-eyes watched him absently stroke the ring with obvious intrigue. There was something about that band that connected him to this story.
"Vincent, how do you know all of this? How could you possibly learn about things the Wutainese have hidden for years? No one knows about my family's feud with the Yoshijirou. The remaining history of them is long since gone. That relative you spoke of, he's dead from what father said."
"And how do you know that, Yuffie? Did he tell you that?" Vincent's somber tone melted to one of indifference.
"He's never spoken of it to me, well, personally anyway. I had overheard him talking about it one night with Gorki and Staniv. It was a random mention until both of them began to shout at him to shut-up. It was as if he even mentioned them, it would bring a plague on us, or something. I don't even get why you're so concerned about this, Vincent. It has nothing to do with you."
He turned to her from silent shame. "Yes, it does," he muttered under his breath, the disgrace reigning heavily upon his tone. "It has everything to do with me, Yuffie."
The morose statement he uttered, mutely hit her in the gut. The impossible knowledge, the sudden reaction to the ring, his reluctance to use the Phoenix Summon on their journey, all of it began to thread itself together in an ironic tapestry of secrecy. Shiva, she almost dreaded to know the outcome.
With her last ounce of courage, she placed a comforting hand upon a slumped shoulder; the soulful look he gave made her heart shatter. He was on the bloody verge of tears, and she, could not but help to join him in his silent pain. She felt his shuddering arms encircle her with hesitation. Gods, he was so ashamed, but of what? Was he afraid she would hate him? She could never bring herself to do so.
"Vincent, it's all right. If you do not wish to discuss it, I will not press further."
He silently reveled within her sincere comfort. He could only wish to stop at this point, but she had to know. "I want to finish this, Yuffie. Please, listen to the rest of it."
His beastly heart could feel the concerned questioning his love obtained. God, help him get through this. With an aching mind, he regrettably continued. "The surviving Yoshijirou, angered and shamed, vowed to make the Kisaragi suffer. The damned teenager did not realize his pointless anger until too late. Already, his adversary's line had reconstructed the Wutainese Empire; their lavish taste seemed fitting during that tedious era.
There was nothing he could do to avenge his family. The Yoshijirou's fate had long been sealed. However, revenge seems to see no reason when coming to the inevitable truth of defeat. The troubled youth had lost everything after his father fell, leaving him nothing but a ruined name, or so it seemed. Even though, the Yoshijirou had been defeated, their wealth landed in the lap of the last descendent. Of course, riches were not of importance to the grieving son, only retribution filled his soulless need for absolution.
He had tried to raise an army against the Kisaragi. It was rather droll how the new lord swiped this disturbed teenager away like an annoying insect. Everyone within Wutai deemed him an outcast, akin to a bastard son of a well-known whore. Nothing would change his family's fate and thus, he decided to escape from this hell that had once been his beloved home.
Wutai soon forgot their insignificant threat like a case of terrible sickness. This survivor's name was Kafei Yoshijirou, only child of Akira Yoshijirou, and destined lord of this faded line."
Yuffie's icy-eyes melted to warmed spheres of true apprehension. He appeared to be so desolate when discussing the fate of this dead man. Did he not realize this last descendent was no longer in existence? Good God, he needed to stop fretting over other peoples' lives and live his own.
With a rough sigh, she gently exerted her grasp upon his metal forearm a little more, her smooth cheek stroking the cool exterior. "Kafei Yoshijirou is dead, Vincent. There has been no trace of him for years. Even my father made the comment of this guy, saying he was out of his damn mind most of the time. It was only revenge he was after, even to the point of trying to murder him and my grandfather. My father said he left in anger because of Wutai shaming him and vowed he would return to make them regret everything they had done to him."
Vincent's bloodstained-eyes held a new glow, one ominous and interrogative. "Is that what he told you, Yuffie? He knows nothing about Kafei Yoshijirou since he was the same damn age as he." He growled with apparent disdain. "Kafei left to get away from his past and the shame the Kisaragi had dealt. There were thoughts of payback but none were ever enforced, my dear."
"How do you know that? Have you talked to him? Ridiculous! You cannot even know about this!" she shook her head in denial. The impending revelation echoed the truth within the recesses of her confused mind.
His faceless expression held nothing to her outburst. Shifting his apprehensive-eyes to hers, he muttered, "You're right, a person not from that region could never obtain such knowledge. But on the other hand, one from there would." He hesitated for a moment, noticing her confused glare. God, the climatic truth had finally come. "I understand to this point I have confused, mystified, and frightened you, Yuffie. Everything I have mentioned is the unbiased truth of Wutai's bloody past and someone such as myself should not know. But…I do because…" he exhaled a jagged sigh before finding the nerve to continue, "I am…Kafei Yoshijirou, Yuffie."
Yuffie watched him bend his head in apparent shame. Gods, this was not true. She had expected his past to be dark and mysterious, but never this. Vincent could not be this horrid name he spoke of. A Kisaragi had always loathed the Yoshijirou, and now, Vincent said he was one of them? How in hell did he expect her to believe this?
"Impossible. Kafei Yoshijirou disappeared over thirty-years ago. You would have to be at least fifty-something…oh my God…" she mumbled under her breath.
Everything. Everything added up, his unknown wealth, the truthful story, his reaction to the ring, even the slight possibility of him actually being…shit. This could not be! Vincent never said he was Wutainese, even though, she could now see several distinctions of him being so. Gods, how could she have been so blind? The slight revulsion of her stupidity pulsed through her being. Vincent was her enemy, how ironic.
"You detest me now," he muttered in a somber tone. "I'm sorry to have hidden this from you, I knew your reaction would relate to one as this." Vincent rubbed his fiery-eyes in a rough manner. "This ring. Funny how my father lost it in battle and then it returning to my possession from the hands of my family's hailed enemy."
His soul ached with sheer desire to end his suffering. He knew she would hate him because of this, because of who he was. He could never change the name that had damned him in society, nor, the fact of altering his monstrous history. The Yoshijirou would forever be unfortunate to suffer.
With hesitation, he murmured, "I changed my name because of the reputation my family held. I wanted no part to remember my past and thus, made a new alias, Vincent Valentine. You, of course, most likely found it silly. It, at least, shielded me from the impending humiliation of others." Vincent enclosed the metallic appendage around an ivory hand, his gaze pleading for her forgiveness. "I'm sorry for hiding this from you. You deserved to know everything because I did not wish to keep anything from you. Even if it meant you despising me in the end."
Yuffie tightened her grasp around his metallic arm; the cold touch gently sent pulsing waves of exultation throughout her soul. How could she hate him? He was everything she wanted. And now, he had shed his secrets and past to her, knowing she may hate him in the end. Her father was so wrong about Vincent, or rather Kafei. "Vincent, I do not despise you." She spoke softly under her sweet breath. "I don't care about your name or you past. I'm only concerned with who you are now. I could never hate you because…" she hesitated. She would soon have to shed a few confessions as well. "I care for you too much to allow some stupid feud come between us."
Odin, he could almost swear he felt his heart burst the moment she accepted his confession. The revelations of his past had collided with a possible future; she was indeed different from the other Kisaragi and he, inactive of his vengeful duties. His cold heart warmed from her welcoming touch, knowing she spoke the truth of her indifference. Now, if only, she could accept his offer. From the looks of it, that possibility seemed even more positive with each passing moment.
Nuzzling a cheek, he whispered, "I could never hurt you, Yuffie. If I wanted to, I would have long ago. I don't care about revenge or returning the Yoshijirou back to power. It seems, my family line has long since passed its glorious time of reign and I could care less. Thank-you for the ring, my angel, I shall always cherish it."
Yuffie nestled his firm chest with her smooth face. "I'm glad because I thought you hated it at first! I mentally kicked myself thinking you abhorred it!"
"Abhor? I think the correct word is adore, angel." He pulled her against him with a pleasing manner. "I adore this ring, as I adore you."
Her heart pulsed with sheer elation from his sensual voice. Gods, could he be even more enticing? Let's see, tall, dark, extremely handsome, check. Family enemy that adores you would certainly go well with an aging paternal unit. She smirked from the latter thought. Yes, Vincent emphatically fit everything within the 'bad boy' category, and he was hers. If only, he would accept a scrawny thing like her self. Could he love a descendent that caused him to lose everything? It almost sounded like an infamous tale of tragic love.
"Vincent, it is I who should apologize for my family's cruel actions. They should have never done that to your family."
With leathery fingers, Vincent gently caressed a cool cheek. "I don't care about it anymore. My family was everything the Kisaragi portrayed them as. I am shamed either way, my dear. It does not matter to me now. All I want from life is to find someone who will accept me for the monster I am and possibly settle down. God knows I've needed to for so long."
Yuffie smiled and teased a single lock of ebon-hair. Vincent watched her with intrigue; the mirthful interest gleamed within his burning-eyes. Without thinking, he pulled her under him and began to tickle her. The fetal attempts to thwart him off deemed impossible. Her beloved guardian was indeed the man she considered spending the rest of her days with. Juno, he was everything she wanted.
"You enjoy messing my hair up, don't you?" he quirked his head in apparent pleasure. "Perhaps, I should ruffle that nicely brushed style of yours!"
"You do and I'll so kick your cute ass!"
"Really now? And how would you do that, angel? I know every form of attack!"
"Ha! Well, how about this one!" she winked mischievously and pulled a strand of hair. In his apparent shock, Yuffie tackled his human arm, knocking it off balance, thus freeing herself from his dominating hold. Before she could make a snide remark, Vincent unexpectedly pulled her back in a locked hold. "Damn it!" she groaned in a jagged tone.
"Damn what?" Vincent countered, a sly grin tracing his pallid-lips.
"Go to hell, Vincent! May demons stab you in the ass with pencils!"
"I believe we've already had this conversation before. And I would rather have you torturing me with your pencils than a demon. The pleasure would certainly be yours and…mine." He huskily whispered.
"I'd like that, Vincent. If I were in hell screaming my head off, would you be holding my hand there?"
Vincent teased her neck with a cheek. "Always," he murmured under his breath. "Always, my lady Kisaragi."
Both embraced each other in like comfort, the holy citadel gleaming with apparent consent. The grey figure beside of them seemed to smile in a perceptible blessing as a small droplet fell from a stony-eye. Of course, it was merely the morning dew.
****
"What the fucking hell!"
"Reno! What's wrong?" Elena burst through the conjoined door; her russet-eyes stared at him with obvious fright.
Bed-raddled, upset, and very confused, Reno glared at his concerned friend with dissuaded-eyes, the sweat running across his gaunt cheeks. "Nothing, Elle, go back to your room."
Elena shook her tiny flaxen mop and approached him with hesitant bravery. She knew he eyed her with disgust, the feral warning to back off danced with the Mako orbs. "I'm not," she answered in a mousy voice.
A fiery-brow rose in discerned wonderment, the look of indifference made her slightly shiver. Yes, this man held the prominent aspect of torture within his cool-eyes, the beckoning aura enticed her to bask into their fiery hold and be consumed within them. Such thoughts were indeed suicidal, not to mention ludicrous and downright insane. Gods, metaphorical flames? Reno more than a man? What else could her whacked mind conjure up?
"You're brave, Elle, very brave." He muttered in an indiscreet tone, the sarcasm dripping heavily from his chapped-lips. "You were always one to not back off from a situation."
"Reno," she broached adding another courageous step to the perched form. "I want to help you."
Raising a burning-brow, he questioned, "You want to help me? You really wish to help me, Elena?"
Elena faintly smiled. Perhaps, he would accept her sincere wish of aid. Her soul brimmed from the thought of making his cavalier smile return to his vacant lips. "Yes, Reno, that's why I came."
"Then get the hell out! I do not need you babying me, Elena! God knows I have enough of your pity already! I'm drowning in a sea of tears you shed for no reason. You cannot understand anything concerning my life. Only she could see me for who I really am and that is all the comfort I need."
Angered, exhilarated, but mostly hurt, Elena conceded from his fuming side. She could not reach him. He was so blind not to see this figment of desire he had constructed into flawed love had deplorably torn his reasoning apart. Gone was the semi-thoughtful man she had admired during her Turk days. All that remained was this beleaguered form, an animal wounded from personal torment.
Did he not see what this loveless pursuit was doing to him? Could he not find fault within this apparition of love? God in Heaven, this lie had robbed the man she had once held so much respect for. This coddled form of self-pity ached for completion, and she, wishing to give it. Unfortunately, her chances of making him see reason were impossible. The imperfect angel of his illustrious eye had his full attention. And for that, she loathed the simpleminded ninja.
The little brat would not hurt him again. No, not when she constantly tried to change who he was. How could such a bitch desire to change everything about someone because they hated their actions? Yes, the Wutainese heiress was nothing more than a pity-lusting little horror that reined her terror upon the world. She was no better than one of Vincent's horrid creatures.
Now, that would be enticing to see the little bitch tie her-self down with a demon that would put her in place. Ah yes, the image of Yuffie breaking under the will of a demonic husband enticed her mind. She did not deserve such intrigue that Reno emitted. There was no feasible way in hell she could see the insignificant lady making her troubled friend happy. And by the gods, she would not allow her to try.
Biting her moistened lip, she shook her blonde mane in defiance. "I refuse to allow you to shut me out like this."
A semi-interested smile traced his lips. Eyeing her as a tiger would its unfortunate prey, he goaded, "Shut you out? Is that what I do to you?" the smirk faded from his playful tone. "Yes, brave little Elena Barton telling a worthless creature in front of her what to do! You're a fool of a girl, Elle. If you value your life, leave now."
Obstinate, Elena stood her ground, the impending anger raged heavily against her failing nerves. Snorting, she moved forward, "Arrogant to the last? I thought you were more than a whiny child. I believed you to be someone who should be respected, revered. But now I realize, you're nothing more than a pitiless drunkard, you're no better than…her."
Alas, she realized her mistake too late. The damage was done as she felt the consequences of wiling the dormant beast. Gods, she had not realized her disdainful opinion could cause such conflict. Mentioning Yuffie apparently struck a nerve within his besotted mind. Indeed, her fateful error would be her unfortunate undoing.
Waiting for his clenched fist to come in contact with her, she abruptly shut her eyes. Her berated mind waited for the harsh impact of disciplining her insidious tongue, but much to her dismay, nothing came. The hesitation of seeing why brought forth a new fear within her tiny form. Why had he not hit her? By the gods, why did he not reflect his anger upon her, since she was at fault for his newfound misery? Christ, the man she respected was certainly out of his mind.
"Elena, look at me."
Chocolate-eyes stared into painful aqua-plated ones; the slight sense of pity enthralled her once more. She read the apparent torment within the Mako-enhanced orbs and slightly moved closer to his looming form. She felt the light touch of his rough hands upon her narrow shoulders as her tiny floral robe fell from them. The minor feeling of ineptness made her faintly shiver, the gentle contact distilling her last barrier of control.
"Elena, look at me," he murmured once more, the pain still present.
Her timid obedience created a new sense within her broken mind. Her uncertain glance made her feel uncomfortable when staring into his intense-eyes. It was as if she could drown within the very pools of the Lifestream and never wish for rescue. Her imminent doom was sealed the moment she locked eyes with his. Siren, if she did not avert her gaze elsewhere, she could never muster the courage to complete her objective of helping him and thus, fall into his apathetic design.
"I will not be tortured by you, Reno. I have only come to help you. And I see, that my kind intentions are not needed. I shall see myself to the door."
"Goodnight, Elena." He muttered.
She noticed the lack of emotion within his dry tone. God, this man could be such a self-asserted asshole at times. She pasted a fake smile upon her supple lips and nodded. "And to you, Reno."
Turning halfway, she added, "I do hope your loyal love comes to you as you anticipate. It would be a shame she disappointed you. Sweet dreams, Reno."
The oaken door shut with a curt semblance of resentment. Ah yes, Elena was angry. And why shouldn't she be when he nearly slapped her? Indeed, he had come close, very close, to imprinting his anger across a silken cheek. Praise Odin, he had found control in time. Had he inflicted a fleck of pain upon her, he would have cut his damned hand off. It was merely a stupid dream.
Why had he been so upset with her in the first place? All she wished to do was help him. Of course… Yuffie. Elena had been a fool to slander his love in such a way. Jesú, you'd think his nerves were not troubled enough and then becoming addled by an insignificant comment. Elena had hit below the belt when she added her rash criticism. What did she know anyway?
She had only known them for what, a year now? Christ, she had previously signed on as a Turk before all hell broke loose, thus ending their glorious empire. The poor blonde had fallen for a man who did not even acknowledge her existence until too late. Her entire world crashed down around her, as did his. At least, they had one thing in common, painful love.
However, Elena did not understand the concept of his need for Yuffie. She was everything that brought out the best in him. Without her overpowering purity, he would forever sink within the bowels of dissolution, forever locked in an eternity of utter torment. Yes, his young friend would soon see how much she had changed him. Not because she wished him to, but he also, wishing to be the man he knew himself to be.
Yuffie had accomplished his return to light thus far. But now, he needed to make the rest of this journey on his own. And he would. By the gods, he would or else, he would die trying. Failing the angelic apparition that saved him from himself was not on his agenda.
Reno had failed everything else within his torn life, but he wouldn't her. She was the last chance for true happiness. And he would be damned if he allowed it to slip by.
Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter was a little short. I wished to have gotten this up sooner. However, my schedule did not allow it. Anyhoo, I should have Chapter Sixteen up by next weekend, if the latest, the week after. Please tell me what you think. ^_^