A Dream's End
[a.n.] Enjoy. Please! I BEG OF YOU! [araclyzm]
To Surprise and Despise
p.o.v. Yuffie
I slung the brown robe quietly around me, allowing little to no sound at all as I tied the string around my neck. Despite running out of things to say for once in my life, I managed to regain my head and tiny vocabulary and wondered for not the first time why I had opted to find Squall instead of finding some money, when the latter seemed all the more pleasing and attainable. Still, like most of my pranks, this seemed too much to resist. Smirking at the image that popped up in my mind at Squall's most expected reaction, I also lifted the hood to conceal my face. Muah ha. This would be such fun. Sure, I'd apologize like I was supposed to (yeah right!). But not before scaring the skittles outta Squall first!
I'm really so evil sometimes.
Walking silently down the stairs, I soon found myself standing at where the even marble hallway floor ended and the smooth, damp waterway stones began. Not too surprisingly, Squall wasn't facing me, though he was more or less ten feet away from where I stood, his sharp sword glinting in the firelight of the six lighted torches that hung from the walls.
I leaned against the frame of the hallway, facing his back. He had shed his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly aside and on the ground some feet from me, revealing a semi-baggy black t-shirt, which, like his jacket seemed, was drenched with both sweat and water.
A thought came to me.
Had Squall slept here, in this yucky place all night?
Another followed, successfully making my hidden eyes widen.
Did he sleep here...because of me?
And of course, some kind of voice just had to interrupt with a venomous, Serves him right for putting his hands on me. The nerve...
I sighed inwardly and continued to stare at his back. His movements were toned, polished to perfection like a shiny porcelain doll or a brand new coin. They melded into each other like fluid, some kind of waltz only done in the water. His actions played in succession as though planned out, like a dance or a song. One step, two step; one note, two note. Thrust, parry, slice, thrust, thrust, swing. A game with provided answers, or a robot programmed to perfection. It's what makes him as predictable as me at times.
Though I'd never rise to his standards, as I'd learned not only last night, but many times before.
Damned thoughts. Sigh. Inwardly, 'course, 'cause I couldn't let dear Squallie hear my sighing. He'd proved his hearing was real good already.
Whatever.
Maybe I should try burying the feeling. Y'know which one I'm talking about. Love, of all things cursed. What the hell is love when you hardly know if it's true on your part and know for a fact it won't be returned? Yeah, I'm sure that same question's plagued many more. But hot damn, it's so very true! I'm nineteen, for crying out loud! I shouldn't be falling in love!
I mean, it's so ew-worthy. Love is swapping spit; sweaty palms; sick, gooey glances; and spending the rest of one's life – and life can last a long time! – with the same person, the same faulty, annoying person that will never leave or change, especially if the love is supposed to be true, whatever that's supposed to mean.
I shouldn't be trying to build a relationship. Hell no. I should be distancing myself as much as possible from this guy, this twenty-seven-year-old swordsman-person thing who caged himself from his own emotions but slowly melted this weak little heart of mine that didn't need melting in the first place. It's sickening.
That's not true...really...Hell yah it is. Growl.
You're just afraid.
Of what? Some feeling?
It's not just a feeling, Yuffie...Damn, the voice is singing now. Pfft...when did this voice even get up there in my head anyway!? Ah-hah, I bet it's that insanity-now-proven person peeking illegally into my thoughts! It solidified itself into a second voice!
How freaking disturbing. Like everything else in this godforsaken town, this sun-forsaken world.
Don't wanna be rejected for feelin' what you feel, do ya? Don't very much fancy the feelin', huh?
No, I don't, thank-you, now leave me alone. I'm trying to stare at Squall.
He won't turn around, not for a while.
Yar, I know. A roll of the eyes.
Too much to bear, darling? Too much pain to come from it? Are you afraid?No!
You're just a child, Yuffie, you're still afraid and have every right to be.
What are you getting at this time?
Wake up. Wake up and open your naïve little eyes. You're hiding behind your immaturity. Really, you have every chance to just grow up. Live up to his standards. Isn't that what you want? Isn't that what you truly want?
No. And I'm proud of my immaturity, because it's real.
No, it's not and neither are you...Like the way Squall hides behind the disguise of cold solitude and detachment, I guess. But unlike how it is for that guy, I'm real. I am actually a child who revels in tomfoolery – some word meaning pranks and the joker and such? – and loves to be immature simply for the sake of being immature and the fact that immaturity, like childhood, is way too fleeting.
Or maybe not. I did get a fortune cookie once saying that while childhood is fleeting, immaturity can last forever.
Looking away from my thoughts, I continued to watch him from the corner of my eye and through unmanageable ebony bangs. I hate those bangs. They get in my way one time too many, in turn making me the klutzy fool Squall thinks I am and will forever be. Innocent as they seem, they subtract more points from my already low self-esteem.
Not that I care. They're just bangs. It's just self-esteem.
Yeah. No big.
How much time had gone by since I came? I didn't know, but I guess Squall's training doesn't stop for time to catch up, for he continued to move around in watery motions. Beautiful motions. A ballet, a dance, a movie. Whatever you called it, it was undeniably pretty, which is weird for me to say bearing in mind exactly who I am. But then again, when did I ever know the difference between beautiful and ugly?
I continued to stare for some reason, but he didn't notice. Of course he wouldn't. He never does. Or rather, he chooses not to. It's actually kinda unnerving when you come right down to it – you'd expect a soldier like him to become accustomed to being watched or something, so he'd have the instincts to seek out the watcher itself.
Biting back the sigh that threatened to come forth, I pushed away from the wall, fiddling with the string that tied the cloth of brown fabric to me. Should I make my entrance now? Now seemed the perfect time. But what was I going to say? Would he recognize me under the cloak?
Whether or not it was the perfect time, it was that specific time anyway that Squall pivoted as if to avoid an unlucky try at his life that had gone unblocked but stopped mid-step upon seeing my form standing there, so alone and quiet and there, close enough for him to shoot me with the Gun in his blade.
Heh. I made a joke. Gun. Blade.
Anyway.
His expression was classic, and with a laugh almost erupting from my throat, I quietly figured it's at a time like this that I wished I had a camera.
His sword nearly clattered to the floor, but he caught himself at the third-to-last second and dove into his trademarked fighting stance – pose, posture, position, whatever – with his eyes narrowing to a point. I couldn't help noticing that there were purplish-green marks under his eyes, bags that had rarely been there before. As thoughts always seemed to do, one popped up again, taunting me as it proposed he'd stayed up all night because I'd practically booted him out of the Hotel room.
I lowered my voice to try and mask it. "Mornin'."
"What do you want?" It came as a snarl, but he sounded tired. Sad almost. Was that because of me? Well, ain't that a thought, huh?
What I said next came out as a whisper, though I have no idea why it came out at all. "...Your heart..."
Whether or not that was true – probably is, in the metaphorical (not literal!) sense – Squall's cobalt eyes widened and narrowed again, his sword starting to hum. He was probably going to shoot me, but I could have dodged it easily enough. It was still a comical sight to see, and it took all my willpower not to just break down and laugh at Squall's failure to see who I was.
"Squall Leonhart..." I muttered in my best ghost voice, taking a step forward, "What are you doing here?"
He blinked, very un-Squallish. "...Who are you?" No questioning how I knew who he was. He could never give himself away – Reverse Psychology for Dummies, y'know.
I smirked beneath the hood and with whatever ninja was in me, I jumped the distance between us and landed squarely in front of dear Squall, who seemed so surprised at the action that he almost did drop his sword, but his instincts as a fighter kicked in in a millisecond when he brought the sword up to crash on my head.
"Wah...SQUALLIE!" I yelled as I ducked and the wind above me whooshed along with the sword's great swipe. Squall faltered and let go of the sword altogether as soon as I yelled, dropping right away to my level. My hood had flown back and the brown robe was threatening to come away. Whether or not I wanted him too (I'm not really sure what I wanted), Squall already knew who I was.
"Yuffie?" I looked up. Oh yeah. He was confused.
Great idea, Yuf.
Oy just shut up.
"Hey, Squall..." I hesitated for a second before standing, tugging at the string until it came loose and the cloak fell away. Squall stared at me – jeez, what is it with people and staring!? – also rising to his full height. I smirked crookedly, though I knew that I was busted. I came here to scare the living chipmunks outta Squall (before I force him to apologize) and what do I do instead? Nearly get my head chopped off because Squall thinks I'm a ghost.
"Yuffie, how'd you find me here?" Squall whispered, not even bothering to apologize for nearly killing me, the cruel man. He retrieved his sword from its spot on the bank where stone met water and then went for his jacket, pulling it on, and I knew he was trying to get away from me. He didn't care about how I'd gone through the rain, through those demented stones, and through the effort of trying to scare him, just to apologize. Maybe I shouldn't have. Damnit, I know I should.
"Squall, wait," I heard myself saying. Ick, was I asking Squall to wait? Damn, damn, damn, damn...And softly too! Was something wrong with me? Oh, no, of course not. Nothing's wrong with me, it's just the rest of the world that's defected.
"It's Leon." He paused, eyeing me. "What do you want?" he repeated his earlier question. I sighed in exasperation and pointed accusingly at him.
"You hit me last night and then you disappeared for ten hours, so you better say sorry for trying to kill me and making me worry, stupid!" Wow. Did I actually say that? Amazing how words just happen to pop out, huh?
The eyebrow rose like it always does. "Don't you think you should apologize for waking me up at three a.m. with your childish fears and then trying to scare the shit out of me just now?"
I clucked my tongue in all irritation, glaring again. "Potty-mouth! And they are so not childish fears, okay? Like I said before, I just hate thunder, end of story. You still shouldn't have hit me!"
"I didn't hit you. I just tapped you."
Oh. Yeah. Right.
"Yah, as if, Squall Leonhart." Glare. "You still put your hand on me."
"In the farthest sense of the phrase."
"You're an ass."
"You're a brat."
Where was this going? Why was Squall once again 'humoring' me by fighting with me? It's at times like these where he's the most unpredictable. And gawd, that gets annoying, more so than anything else he does, including correcting me all the time.
"Just say sorry!"
"Why don't you?"
"Why are you being so damn difficult?"
"I'm always difficult, Yuffie, you said so yourself."
I stopped short then, finding myself crossing my arms and leaning a little to the left with a sassy little stare set directly on Squall, out of my own defiance and aggravation of this guy. The look that flashed through his eyes when he said that made me stop and wonder what he was getting at.
"Yah, sure, like you're really going to admit that and mean it." I rolled my eyes, feeling suddenly like the adult of the conversation. In an effort to wipe that horrid thought away, I stomped over to Squall and poked him in the chest with every word that came out of my mouth, slowly pushing him toward the less-than-lukewarm and totally disgusting water.
"Just-say-sorry-Squall-it-won't-kill-you-and-it-will-get-you-off-my-back!" With that last word, I gave his chest one hard shove and he fell...
...To the slimy green water with a great big splash that made me burst out laughing so hard, I doubled over and choked.
Okay, so the notion was too hard to resist. I'd seen the very same scene performed once in a movie, and hell, that got me laughing for a while every time I thought of it, to the point where I started planning how I would carry it out on someone I knew. Besides, I wasn't going to let Squall get away with hurting me (even though maybe he didn't exactly mean to hurt me...the first time anyway...) before I pushed back. I'd kick his ass if I had the power, but hey, I'm nineteen and a ninja with nothing in my arsenal but a small vocabulary yet lot to say and throwing stars that, while sharp enough to stab, dulled in every comparison to Squall's blade.
And hey. At least now that my revenge was fulfilled, I could apologize safely.
Once I stopped laughing, of course.
When I finally managed to get some kind of hold on my laughter, I quieted them to giggles just so I could get a better look at Squall. By this time, he'd risen from the water to his feet, muttering angrily with words that could have rivaled Cid (yeah, we always gotta compare things like this to Cid), and looking, it's almost safe to say, ten times madder than last night.
He was drenched in the water from the lake and the rain from earlier on, probably, but he still marched up to me, glowering like a madman with the look of one, too.
"Yuffie, you are such a little–" he began furiously.
"Brat?" I coughed, smirking mischievously. "Yah, I know." I paused, watching his face narrow even more and wondering how I would say this. "And Squall–"
"Leon," he muttered through clenched teeth.
"Yar, whatever... I'll say sorry about last night, if you apologize for hitting me fer no good reason." He sighed, gritting his teeth and hissing each word out one at a time.
"I didn't hit you without a reason to, and I'm not apologizing for it either."
I couldn't deal with this man. No matter what I felt for him, no matter who he was or who we were, I couldn't – and wouldn't – deal with this man. Why, oh why, did he have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't he just give in and be done with it? WHY did he have to persist in having himself bugged and bugged until he had no choice but to cave?
Because, golly, he just wasn't a normal human being.
"Squall, just say sorry and be done with it," I grumbled, rubbing my forehead as a headache began to make itself known. "I'm getting a migraine."
"If you keep calling me Squall, Yuffie, I will not say sorry for anything, let alone for the fight last night that was a waste of all time and breath."
"Leon," I amended, but adding a whine to my voice, "You're not gonna say sorry, are ya? Yer just going to keep saying hell no until I bang my skull against the ground?"
Squall shrugged. "That wasn't what I was thinking about, but that sounds much more pleasing to the ear."
I groaned and rolled my eyes and stomped my feet and did whatever other actions remained that showed he was getting to me, again. Am I really so weak to bow down to him? Aerith, I can understand, but Squall? How could I be so pathetic?
I tried another tact; whether or not I gave in at all, if I was (and it seemed so) I wasn't about to do so without a fight. "If you don't apologize to me, Leonhart, I will not stop bugging ya till you do!" I threatened, throwing his worst nightmare in his face. "And trust me, it'll hurt you far more than it'll hurt me."
I grinned as though I knew something Squall didn't, even though that wasn't true, and watched his face contort with confusion, anger, and acceptance, settling on something between anger and acceptance.
"Yuffie?" he asked as I responded with a haughtily triumphant "Hm?" He muttered something to himself first, switching his eyes from the ceiling to myself, then, "You're a measly little bum with nothing better to do with her time except bug me, is that right?"
Struck as I was at his lack of usual cold politeness, I smirked and nodded all the same. I will not let him get the best of me, I will not! Instead, I'll take it as a compliment. Fair enough, right? Right. "Yup, that's right."
"Yeah, I thought so," he muttered, shaking his head.
"So are you going to say sorry?" I asked, this time teasing him because I knew I'd already won.
"Yeah," he muttered, wiping his face with an already-wet hand. "Whatever." He stalked over to get his sword (which flew from his hand to the floor when he...erm...stumbled). I watched as he inspected it for some scratches or other before he swung it up to his shoulders and shook his head in displeasure.
I wonder what would happen if...
Naa. I shouldn't. That's just wrong.
Oh well. Whoever said I should do what's right?
I skipped over to the brown cloth the Fairy Godmother gave me and picked it up, walking over to Squall and holding it up to him.
"It's still rainin', y'know," I said all-knowingly. "You might wanna cover up." His gaze darted from the cloak in my hand to my face so fast and so frequently that I thought he'd get dizzy from the effort. And just when I was thinking of just slinging it over my shoulders again with a, 'It's your loss,' he slowly reached out to take it and pulled it over his shoulders. It came to his ankles, but covered him enough. While the Fairy Godmother's magic would work on me until I got to wherever, Squall would probably catch a cold in this weather if he continued to walk around with just his leather jacket.
And since when did you care so much what happened to Squall?Shaking my head at this idiotic question, I went to get my scarf and hat from where I'd left them by the stairs, tugging the cap on and wrapping the scarf messily around my neck, preparing for the rain that no doubt still fell outside.
"Hey, Squ-Leon?" I said as I ascended the stairs with a quiet Squall following. He looked up at me when we came to the lift, him clattering on quietly, me jumping on nimbly. "You owe me fifty munny." I stuck out my tongue at him as the lift began to ascend to the Magician's Study.
Squall raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
I folded my arms behind my head, clasping my hands together. "Our awesome manager Daved Cassady took one hundred munny from me this morning for 'disturbing the peace' last night." I made a face at the spot beside Squall's head and he had the gall to smirk.
"Serves you right," was all he said, though it was enough to make me wanna kick him where it hurts.
And just when I thought it might be a good to do so, the lift stopped and we stood in the Magician's Study, Merlin and the Fairy Godmother nowhere in sight. I jumped up to the platform near the table and found a quickly scribbled note in Merlin's weird wiry handwriting saying that he and the Fairy Godmother were in the Hundred Acre Wood taking care of some 'things' and wouldn't be back for a while. After showing it to Squall, I crossed my arms and looked up at him.
"What do ya think?" I asked for no reason in particular. Squall shrugged, throwing the paper back onto the table.
"A pair of old geezers goin' on a honeymoon," he said evenly, shrugging again and making for the exit.
"Ew, Leon...that's just so gross," I said to him, rolling my eyes then shutting them tight at the images that unwillingly flashed through my brain. Did not need to hear that, did not need to hear that!
And instead of saying something else, I jumped in front of him, muttering obscenities beneath my breath. And deftly kicking him in the shin, I flew from the house, across the lake, and into the rainy Third District to home.
By the time I got back to the Hotel, the Fairy Godmother's spell had worn off (so much for powerful magic...) so I once again had the pleasure of being dripping wet. Nichi the bellhop was in the hallway near the front counter, muttering to himself with a mop in hand and the obvious task of cleaning duty most likely appointed directly by our dear manager Daved. He didn't seem too happy when I jumped into the place and shook myself out to try to dry. No, actually he yelled at me – which was very un-Nichi-like, since, like I said, he was a hippie in all aspects of the word, and which meant that he didn't really like cleaning duty at all – and told me that if I ever soaked his hallway again, he'd hang me by my toes beneath the Gizmo Shop bell.
"I'll hold you to it!" I said in response as I disappeared into my room, smirking and definitely much cheerier than I was in the morning. By the time Squall caught up, I was dry and changed, my wet clothes hanging droopily on the towel holders in the bathroom, my new clothes smelling like a bag of stale potato chips.
Squall disappeared into the bathroom to change, pulling off my cloak and dropping it randomly on the nearest chair and muttering something to himself that sounded like 'cookies' or 'duckies', I couldn't really tell.
When he returned, we simply sat in the room, he near the window, me on the bed, waiting for the rain to stop coming down.
The rain had to stop some time, right?
I groaned in response to this thought, lying awkwardly on my stomach and trying like hell to concentrate on the stuff Aerith asked me to read. But I wasn't doing a very good job of it, especially not with an empty stomach on my head.
And I thought I was hungry yesterday?
Gimme a break. I hadn't even eaten breakfast, let alone the tiniest snack at all today. It was well past seven in the evening and there was still no sign of the rain stopping its torrential assault on our town.
Talk about annoying.
Knock, knock, knock.
Okay, the only 'knock' that cheerful (if you can say a knock shows feelings, in a sense) is...
Squall crossed the room from his position at the table and opened the hallway door, allowing Aerith and Cloud to enter, along with a third figure I didn't care enough to notice until she stepped into the room, looking every inch the diva with a capital D. While Aerith carted one brown paper bag as well as her purse, Cloud was trying to hold onto his humongous sword, another brown paper bag, an umbrella, and a small duffel bag, but the third figure, wrapped in a weird leather trench coat, held nothing but a tacky-looking purse. As soon as they came in, both Aerith and Cloud dropped their belongings near the door, Squall closing and latching it shut behind the three visitors as they did.
The third woman – the Diva – looked exactly as I dubbed her, but only by the expression on her face. Otherwise, she would've looked as Aerith did – calm, quiet, kind, you know her type. But there was an unmistakable snootiness that I detected beneath the surface – and obviously everyone else in the room saw it too, because it wasn't as if I was the greatest judge of character.
She seemed to be twenty-four, twenty-five at the most, but she was short, at least my height, and she had the build of a ninja and that made me the slightest bit jealous. Brown locks were twisted into a high bun at the top of her head, and I could more than tell that the hair was longer than Aerith's – and believe me, hers was long. (Question to self: how do people live with long hair like that? And what's so great about it that makes even men want to grow their hair as such? Questions to be thought of at another time...) Her eyes were also brown, but a really deep, deep brown, and, with all my lack of judgmental abilities when it came to personalities, she seemed to be the kind of person who would lie in the blink of an eye if it suited her just fine, and without the slightest feeling of regret. People like that made me nervous because of how shady they were.
"Yuffie! Squall!" began Aerith, and I rolled my eyes plainly at how irritatingly concerned she sounded. "I was wondering where you guys were! When I came to bring you lunch, no one was here, so I thought maybe you went to the café, but Cci said you hadn't been there for the last couple of days." She crossed the room to me, probably noting pleasingly that I was actually reading.
I shrugged, as did Squall. "Woke up late," I muttered, my gaze floating to the two brown bags, completely ignoring the third person to arrive. "Tell me that's food..." Now that was something I was interested in.
Aerith smiled. "Thought we'd bring you some dinner, since it seems you missed eating altogether today."
I looked over Aerith's shoulder to Cloud, who was leaning against the wall beside the door (which Squall was leaning against also), both of them in an almost-the-same pose, arms crossed, staring at us and, just as I, ignoring the fifth person in the room.
"Hey-a, Cloud," I greeted with a smirk.
Cloud muttered something.
"Huh?"
"Hey."
Well that was...blunt to say the least. But whatever the reason for Cloud's seemingly bad mood (the fact that me and Squall had yelled at him last night seemed to have slipped my mind), it went overlooked as Aerith started telling us about her day at the Infirmary and setting out eating utensils for the five people.
Wait...five people...? Oh, right! The Diva.
"Hey, Aerith!" I interrupted her, pointing deliberately at the newcomer, who sniffed in disapproval. Aerith's eyes followed my finger and she shot me a glance that clearly said "Stop pointing." I did, but continued to stare questioningly.
"Right, how could I forget?" Aerith smiled.
"Yeah, how could you?" I prodded, raising and lowering an eyebrow. Aerith grinned sheepishly and motioned for the third woman of the room to step forward, as if she was a special guest on a television show.
"Yes, uhm...this is Genevieve," Aerith introduced as the lady gave an unasked-for bow. I laughed at her openly, and Aerith shot me another look. "She'll be...well, you'll find out what she'll be in a second."
Genevieve looked at Aerith and they seemed to share some kind of secret understanding in an unspoken agreement, because they both nodded and Aerith continued with her disregarded introductions, to which I only listened and participated in because of the flower girl herself. "Genevieve, this is Yuffie, and they are Leon and Cloud." Leon and Cloud barely graced the chick with a nod, while I simply shrugged; I didn't like this girl, and from their not-too-respectful attitudes, I could tell the other two didn't either.
"Hey, Rith," I broke off the young woman when she began finished setting the table and began taking out the delicious-smelling food. She stopped again, polite as always. "Why're we eating in my room, huh?" I asked while rising to my feet, a semi-accusing-but-only-because-I'm-too-tired-to-actually-mean-it kind of manner behind my voice. "No, wait, better yet...who said you could invite a guest to eat in my room?"
"Because we thought you liked room service," Aerith answered while Cloud cocked his head and whispered, "We?" My friend grinned at him and looked at me again, sitting and folding her hands in her lap. "And I thought you might like to meet this guest of mine." She gestured idly to Genevieve, who'd finished her 'inspection' of our room and probably deemed it worthy of the title of 'rathole'. "Don't you want to find out what I'm doing?"
I jumped up, walking cautiously over to the table and sitting across from the twenty-three-year-old. "Er...yeah, I guess..." I blinked.
The flower girl raised one eyebrow, continuing her quest to set all the food out – more ramen noodles! Muaha! ...Rice, vegetables, some sweet-smelling bread, purple pudding, brown noodles, chicken drumsticks...it all smelled so good – and then motioned to the table.
"Let's eat then."
Dinner was a silent and tension-lacquered estate, so different from the atmosphere of our usual, relaxed dinners together, the change triggered most likely by the visitation of Genevieve, who 'preferred' if everyone just called her 'Song'. Yech. Aerith had insisted we finish eating before she announced whatever she was up to this time, and by just the light of her eyes (and all the years I'd known her), I could tell her next project would be big, whatever it would be.
I never thought I'd want a meal to be over with so quickly, but just watching 'Song' eat was making me sick. She was so freaking polite that it made me wonder if she came from some rich family somewhere and obviously had one hell of a reason to grace our lowly town with her imperial presence. I tried calling her 'Jenny', but she glared meanly over our food and 'requested' (bladda bladda bla) that I only call her 'Song' or 'Genevieve' or not to "address me at all." The occupants of the table had gone silent just then, before Aerith's fork clattered noisily to the floor (definitely by accident) and she went to retrieve it, returning red-faced.
But when finally dinner was over and the garbage left over was carted away, Cloud very clearly stated that he was tired and wanted to sleep, only to have Aerith shoot him a loving smile and ask 'sweetly' if he would first hear her out. Squall told her to make it fast (rolling his eyes at me as if we were close friends sharing the same animosity for the same thing) because he really wanted to get to sleep already. I just returned to the bed and tried to read in an effort to be as rude as possible to Song because she was a bitch.
But oh-ho no, Aerith wasn't having any of it and stood at the table beside Genevieve, Cloud on her other hand, with Leon standing by the wall.
"Well, for a few days now, I've been giving this idea a whole lot of thought," Aerith began, and I yawned accidentally, earning a snotty look from two of the three people at the table (Cloud and Song, if you must know). "And I know that maybe I should think more on it – and I will – and that if I do decide to take on this task, it will take a definite long while, and a lot of hard work, but I'm willing to try." She took another breath, and I felt I ought to brace myself. "I'm going to direct a play."
It took a few minutes for Aerith's last words to actually run fully through my brain, but apparently in processed much faster in the minds of the two men, and Aerith's statement was responded by me saying, "Huh?", Squall and Cloud saying, "What?" and Genevieve smirking prettily.
"Aerith," Cloud started, staring at her with an uncharacteristically shocked face, "What do you mean, you're going to direct a play?"
Aerith fidgeted at our reactions; obviously she was expected something either worse than this or better. But it was going to get worse. "Well...you know the Shakespeare thing I've been working on?" Cloud nodded. "I want to put on a production of Romeo and Juliet." She shrugged like a little girl who was searching for an excuse as to why she stole the cookie. "Don't you think it's a good idea?"
Cloud sighed. "Aerith...I think that's a really great idea – after all, the town could use some kind of entertainment or fun – but have you really thought this out? Taking on a project that big can take a lot out of you, and, if I know you as well as I think I do, you have the potential to break down when the going gets rough."
Aerith gawked, as did I, at how openly Cloud had said that. But Aerith shook her head while I continued to stare and argued, "Yes, but this is something I really, truly want to do. I know how much work it will be, and I know that all the work won't be easy, but...I think that this town can use it. It would be worth it – look, Mayor Creslyn hasn't done anything big or improving for this town since that big relocation act three years ago." She sighed, motioning to the window where, surprisingly, the rain had dimmed somewhat. "The town needs a project, a task, to them something to do and be proud of."
"Aerith..." Squall finally cut in, rubbing his forehead. "We can understand your concern and everything, but...Blondie's right. Have you thought about how exactly you're going to propose this idea to Creslyn? Have you even though out how you'll pull it off? What about the cast, the crew...you have all that jazz about preparing them for their lines and whatever – and where are you going to perform it in the first place?"
Aerith shook her head. "Leon, Cloud, you're worrying too much. Yes, I have thought everything out, and I have a distinct idea of what I'm going to do. All I'm looking for is your support and, by any remote chance, your help."
"Rith," I said quietly when it seemed no one else would talk. I stretched out on the bed and shrugged at her, really at a loss of what to say. She seemed really passionate about what she was going to do – but I wonder if she sees just how huge this whole thing was? It made my brain hurt just thinking about it. "You can't really be serious about this?"
Just to make sure.
But Aerith nodded with conviction and sighed. "But I'm not going to be alone, whether you help me or not." She nodded at Song. "Genevieve is the Head Nurse at the Pediatric Ward in the Infirmary, and she's been helping me rewrite the play so it may be understandable and actable." Genevieve nodded also, brushed a stray piece of hair away from her eyes, and smirked as if she was to be held above the rest of us. "She's also going to play the part of Juliet..."
I silently gagged and the motion went noticed by all – and I had the pleasure of seeing both Squall and Cloud smirk and Genevieve scowl.
"Yah, whatever." I shrugged for no reason.
"Aerith..." Cloud said again, this time with an almost warning tone in his voice. "Are you sure about this?"
"Positive!" Aerith narrowed her eyes slightly and I would've laughed at how strange she looked, except she also looked as if she'd bite my head off if I said a word. "Why does it seem so wrong to you?"
Cloud jumped and shook his head quickly, waving his hands in front of his face in defense. "No, no, I wasn't saying that." He chose his words so carefully that I had no choice but to laugh at his insecurity when it came to his beloved. "Shut up, Yuffie."
"I didn't say anythin'!" But still, I was smiling.
"Cloud, the least you can do is say congratulations," Aerith said, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "Genevieve, I'll see you tomorrow at work." The brown-haired twenty-four-year-old nodded quietly and rose, waving a goodbye to her friend and shooting horrible looks in my, Squall, and Cloud's directions before leaving the room.
"I'm sorry, Aerith, really," Cloud tried, but Aerith stared him down for so long that he fidgeted and I let loose another laugh. "I'm happy for you, really, but I don't want you to get your hopes up on something that's nearly impossible."
"It would be impossible altogether," Aerith said calmly, walking toward the door that connected our room with hers and opening it, "if I didn't have your support at all." She pointed to the floor of their room. "You can sleep on the floor tonight, you ungrateful man."
And with that, our precious, patient, composed little flower girl stormed into her room and shut the door behind her. Not a word to me or Leon about much of anything, though, because she seemed to take offense that we were laughing at her amazing transformation and Cloud's bumbling gibberish as he tried to get back into his room.
Ah, yes. True love at it's finest.
A while after the 'episode', the warm, comforting bed called for me and I wanted so bad to just drop on it and sleep forever in the soothing bliss of sleep. But, however tired I was, I had a lot to think about – Aerith's slight change of attitude minutes before she condemned Cloud to a night on the floor, Aerith's plan to bring that Shakespeare thing to life (which meant that I really had no choice but to read it), and Aerith's friend Genevieve, of whom I'd have no problem of making her life miserable, given the chance she disappoints my best friend in the slightest.
Why is it that Aerith always seems to be on my mind?
Whatever the reason for that disturbing thought, I wouldn't be going to sleep early tonight.
Aerith's moment of bitchiness was nothing; it happens. So I could dismiss that thought easily enough. Still though, her thought to recreate Romeo and Juliet was serious, and that, if anything, surprised me more than it ought to have. Aerith had this kind of creepy talent in which she would take on some colossal undertaking and succeeding when others would have long given up (even though, yeah, she also has the knack for breaking down at some point because of the pressure. She, like I, can't really deal with too much pressure.)
But anyway.
Jeez, even my brain is too tired to think properly. When really I have no good reason for being tired in the first place – I hadn't done much of anything today. Maybe I was getting sick? Oh, yay-ness, isn't that a thought.
Oh, but wait. There's another thought.
"Hey, Leon?" I murmured in a low voice just as he got into bed. He replied with a tired "Hm?" and I sighed in all-tiredness and turned on my side to face him. Not surprisingly, his back was to me. "Are we gonna go back to the Bastion for Christmas?"
Every year, the five of us – Cloud, Aerith, Squall, me and sometimes, to my delight, Cid if he wasn't too busy – would travel back to the Hollow Bastion for the holidays. Yeah, I know what you're probably thinking: why go back to that dead palace? The answer is simple, though confusing if you look into it deeper: our memories of holidays at the Bastion are better than any memories here in the town. While the Bastion is so lonely and devoid of life but quiet, the snowfalls are so pretty and the winters never fail in bringing them, the town's winter weather only held freezing blizzards and blackened snow, with plenty of annoying kids taking advantage of the lack of school and bustling adults.
But despite these facts or because of them, whatever you choose, we hardly ever missed a year to go back to our old home.
But what's to say this year isn't any different?
I watched Squall's back move very slightly, warmth emanating from his person in the soon-to-be-freezing room, and I thought him to have fallen asleep. However, he turned from his side to his back in the perfect position to stare at the ceiling, and his blue eyes were opened yet worn out.
"Should we?" he asked in a voice one volume lower than that his usual speaking tone and I shrugged, still staring at him, though I knew I'd pay for this later.
"It's practically tradition, I guess," I answered. "I think it's a good idea."
My companion shook his head. "I don't. The Heartless problem over there has been growing for the last few years. No doubt it's probably gotten worse. We shouldn't spend Christmas there."
I looked at him in half-disbelief. "I think we should! It's our second home, Squallie, I mean, seriously, we spend Christmas there every year!"
Squall growled. "Never, ever call me Squallie." Then he sighed again, shaking his head against the pillow. "It's entirely up to you if you want to go. But I don't think I am."
"Aw, c'mon, Leon!" I whisper-whined, tucking myself beneath the blanket and closing my eyes for just a sec – I'm tired, I'm gonna rest a bit! "It'll be fun..."
I felt Squall's gaze fall on me, but couldn't bring myself to open my eyes – too tired. You know how that can be. Even when the man you love is potentially checking you out, fatigue usually gets the better of us. But I still heard his voice whisper as I began to drop off to sleep – finally. "We'll talk to Aerith and Cloud tomorrow morning about it if you'll leave me alone. Fair?"
I nodded as much as my cushioned head would allow, grinning at how I'd won. "'Course, Squall...whatever you say..."
"And Yuffie?"
"Huh?"
"What do I have to do to get you to stop calling me Squall?"
"Why do you care about your name so much, huh? It's just a name..." I yawned. "It shouldn't matter."
I felt Squall squirm. "I just...don't like it."
"Yar, yar, whatever you say, Squall, whatever you say." I turned over. "It's just a stinkin' name, for pete's sake, it's not like it's the most important thing in the world, y'know."
Were my words slurred?
Probably. Most likely. ...Yah, they were. Damn.
"To some people it is," Squall answered in a murmur.
"And to some it ain't," I retorted, trying to stay awake long enough to see the outcome of this battle of the words.
"Why do you care?"
"'Cause it ain't healthy to be tellin' me to call you one thing when clearly you were named another." I smirked at my own 'cleverness', but man, the sleepiness...
"Just quit it already, Yuf?" I didn't say anything before Squall added, as if to change his tact and see if I'd be shocked enough to comply, "Please?"
Wow, ain't that a first. The mighty-mighty boss-stone actually pleaded. I'm definitely not as shocked as I would have been if I was fully awake, but I was surprised nonetheless.
Sigh. "Yah, fine, whatever you say, Squallie. I mean, Leon." I smirked and listened for his response.
"Brat." My eyes shot open to see Squall grinning (though it was somewhat small) good-naturedly at the ceiling.
"Rat-turd!" I hissed, no less softening my angry retorts.
"Midget."
"So not, Leon!" I grumbled, kicking him in the side of his leg under the blankets with whatever strength I still had and rewarded for my efforts with a nice, loud, "OUCH!". "Bossy, pigheaded jerk-off."
He hesitated, not knowing how to respond and I reveled in all my glory. "Just go to bed, Yuffie."
I grinned widely and shut my eyes.
"Or your lack of sleep will make you old, ugly, and decrepit and one day you'll wish you'd never had these verbal wars with me and instead had spent your time sleeping."
GROWL.
Was he somehow implying that I was ugly or cared more about fighting with him than my beauty rest!? If that's so, then I swear, I'll pummel him the second I wake up...
Sigh.
Y'know, some old somewhat wise geezer with stark white hair sittin' in a rocking chair 'cross a fire in his forgotten home who had way too much free time that he spent making up quotes for the world to live by once laughed derisively and said: don't fall in love.
To which I would like to add a great big 'Duh'.
{tbc}
[a.n.] Eck. Length: 7, 690 words, nineteen pages excluding the usual. No sneak of the next chapter, I'm afraid. Did not turn how I wanted it to. Did not! Well, it did turn out, criticism is a beseeching on my part, so...please just yell at me and get it over with. –braces self– [araclyzm]