AN: Blame this on insomnia. I haven't slept for 48 hours...

Chapter 5 – Aleatory Homophony

Before finding the real world, she could let herself believe in anything. Her mission was simple; her problems were clear. She had to be it; the warrior, the princess. The fine line she walked was half the thrill and half the agony. Her culture was one of honor and tradition, and like the daughter she was, only wanted to live up to it. Her father was stern and misguided, but he had a sense of righteousness, and justice she always strove for. That's why she had hated him, back when she was young enough to allow such emotions.

That's also why Yuffie Kisaragi never let anyone call her princess.

When the fury wore off, all she wanted to do was to sit. Sit and let the night numb her; the cold often allowed her throbbing head to think.

Think... why would I ever want to do that? It'll only go back to... him...

She couldn't help but revert to an old mindset, back when all she cared about was her honorable thievery. He didn't say much, and it was probably due to the alcohol more than anything, but it had stuck in her head long after her anger wore off. Cloud Strife had said she was pretty.

Back to the old school girlish crush, eh Yuffie?

She shook her head, ashamed of her seemingly shallow emotion. She was sixteen, and somehow roped into saving the world... Could she help that magnetism he had? That grudging sort of leadership that would make her want to die for his cause?

Lost little boy... humph. Gawd, doesn't he see how many have loved him?

"Yuff? Is that you?" a tentative voice called, walking casually up to the bench.

Get lost Spike. I want to be mad at you.

"Ya," her voice spoke hesitantly, without the permission of her mind, "Whaddya want, Spike?" He breathed out, making misty clouds in the air. Then, after a few seconds of seemingly arguing with himself, he sat down, giving her two feet of space. She didn't look at him as he sat down. Her stare was transfixed on the city lights.

"Listen, before this gets...weird," he began, fumbling for his speech, "I want to say... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." She stayed silent, watching her own breath as it came out in gentle icy puffs. He sighed, and tucked his arms behind his head, leaning back a little.

"You're no princess," he said slowly, wincing at his lack of tact, "...what I mean is..."

"I'm not ladylike enough for that sort of thing?" she spat out suddenly, gripping the seat of the bench tightly. He winced again.

"No, no... gods, I shouldn't have drank so much," he whispered, sorting through his fogged head, "...You're not that kind of lady. But you're certainly a woman; you'd have to be blind not to see that." She glanced over at him, noting that fact that he had a shirt on, though not the one she had given him. She hadn't realized how long she had been out there; time had a way of slipping away from her.

No no no no... don't flatter me. Don't give me that. Tell me I'm a brat... anything...

"...You really clean up good, Yuff," he continued, not quite sober enough to look at her, "It's strange what five years can do... everyone's changed." She snorted, unable to contain her voice any longer.

"Ya, well, you're still as schizo as ever," she said, grinning a little, "You don't stop to think much, do ya?" He shook his head solemnly, not having noticed her change in demeanor.

"Never have, I was trained to be a fighter, not a thinker," he admitted, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. She poked him lightly with her finger, making him jump.

"Fighter, huh?" she teased, and then lowered her voice, "What does it really mean? Why are we warriors?" He shook off the surprise of her sudden contact and clenched his jaw, desperately trying to think of a response.

"Some people just have it, I guess," he replied, finally letting his gaze fall on her, "It's in our minds, hidden behind all that 'advanced thinking'. It's that animal part." She smirked, happy to have gotten some response from him.

'Fighter not a thinker'? That's for sure...

"So what does an unemployed swordfighter do during peacetime?" she asked mischievously, watching as the effects of the cold cleared the fog in his eyes, "'Cause I could use some help around the bar..."

"As long as I get to be the bouncer," he said quickly, arching an eyebrow, "So the next time some guy calls me 'pretty lady' I get to kick his ass."

"Oh, and one more 'princess' out of you and you're unemployed, got it?"

Elsewhere...

"If you choose Hell, you will meet your demon," Tiveph kept steady, seemingly unaware of her movements, "You will have damned all of humanity in the process. Is his life worth that much?"

She awoke with a start, eyes snapping open and wide. She was panting, sweat pouring down her face. She hated how this happened every morning, hearing Tiveph's voice before anything else, taunting her with choices and lives...

Calm down. You made the right choice. You saved both of them...

But did she? Cloud was an aimless wanderer, and Vincent was a specter that haunted her home, coming and going with the passing breeze. If it weren't for the children, she would have felt like a person living with ghosts.

A ghost? That's harsh... he's actually come a long way since you first met him.

Then Tifa heard it, the unmistakable sound of Vincent's whisper. That was when she realized that he was sleeping underneath her; on the couch where she forced him to hold her.

"...I'm so glad...you're...alright..." he was muttering; caught in the throngs of dreamland. She held her breath, curious as to what he saw behind closed eyelids. She chance to lean in closer to his face, hoping to catch more snippets of his speech.

"...to see...face...came...for me..." he continued, the murmur softer than before. She leaned further still, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, warm and light.

Then he moved, grasping her close, and sloppily kissing... her nose.

She couldn't suppress the immediate giggle this strange position caused, and when his eyes darted open, only started into a full out laugh. Once aware of where he was, he backed up, removing his mouth from her nose and tried to crawl out from underneath her.

"That must have been some dream!" she laughed, amused by his frightened expression. He was almost free of the couch, when she grabbed his wrist.

"What were you dreaming about?" she asked, unable to keep her curiosity at bay. He frowned, trying to yank his hand away.

"...Nothing," he said, trying to keep his expression neutral. She smirked.

I never did ask him about how well Lucrecia and he got along...

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked, a desperate attempt to shift the focus. Luckily for him, it worked.

"Tiveph," she said plainly, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice, "...The choice he gave me. Happens most nights..." If there was ever a thing that her and Vincent talked about, it was dreams. In the odd period of time between Meteor and Tiveph, Tifa had worked to make him speak, and found common ground with their nightmares. Neither of them ever told the complete story, but enough for Tifa to feel like she had made a difference.

"What choice?" he asked, blinking. Then she realized her blunder.

Gods! I never told him about that!

"Oh, life or death...that sort of thing..." she nervously answered, letting go of his wrist and trying to get off the couch. This time, however, he grabbed her.

"Tifa," he said, in the tone that meant he was demanding something. She frowned.

"What's done is done, obviously I chose right..." she answered sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. He gave a disapproving snort.

"As I thought," he said, releasing her from his grasp, "...The children will be awake soon. I will be leaving." He cautiously disentangled himself, standing up with a graceful unease.

"Please stay," she gasp out, worried by his expressionless stare. He shook his head, eyes downcast.

"I will see you at the end of the month," he replied coldly, turning his heel and making his way towards the door.

Good going Tifa! You've just alienated your best friend...

But she didn't have time to dwell over it, for the children were already shuffling about, the morning calling them out of slumber.

All things pertaining to Tiveph are referring to "Obsession's Other Brother", so if you still have not read it, you might want to....

Cloud and Yuffie's Theme: Beautiful Disaster American Hi-Fi