A/N: Arrgh...It's so hard to write without any inspiration. Six months or so, three name changes, a new blog, and I STILL can't churn out anything. But you know what...I'm forcing myself to do this.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is owned by Square-enix. I'm just stealing for my own semi-creative purposes.
A Thought For Crimson
Yuffie's POV
It was funny how I never realized how attached I had gotten to the guy until he had disappeared.
Mister Depression, Vamprie Boy, Vinnie-poo, everyone's favorite Ultra-Hyper-Maniac-Depressive Vincent Valentine, missed by me, Miss Energetic, Miss Puke-All-Over-The-Damn-Air-Ship Yuffie Kisaragi.
Now, before you start batting your eyelashes and making 'chu' sounds, talking about how cute of a couple we would be, or cursing me and reminding me that he's however old and still missing that damn Lucy, get this straight. It wasn't a romantic sort of longing I had for Vinnie 'dahling', it was the sort of longing you get when you find out that kid you used to pick on in middle school moved away/filed a restraining order on you...not that I would know about that part.
We weren't particularly close, in any way, shape, or form, but we were comrades and he tolerated me more than the others. By tolerated I mean he didn't threaten to throw me off the peaks of the Nibel mountain range, or toss me into the Northern Crator to be fed on by wild Behemoth Kings and other such nasties. He'd give me a nasty glare, sure, but at least he was quiet.
It's quiet now, as I sit amongst the sakura in the so-called "Lords Garden" of Wutai, supposedly listening to my advisors tell me about all of the problems in the country with forced politeness, sneers barely hidden beneath their carefully masked faces as they speak their daily phrases of "Miss Yuffie in the shopping district there is a problem with--" and"Miss Yuffie the temple restoration is going quite nicely--" occasionally asking me who I intend to marry and when, to which I always reply with an impolite remark and an even more crude gesture involving my left hand and middle finger.
Occasionally I think of the others during these mid afternoon meetings, but usually, my thoughts drift to the ebony haired gunslinger with his demon eyes and human heart, his soul torn in two by the experiments of a mad man and a woman whose loyalties lay with him, his body filled with so many chemicals and tubes that he could be his own laboratory.
He disappeared on that day after the world had been threatened a second time by the three silver-haired men, the 'clones' that seemed as if they had come out of a bad sci-fi movie, melting into the cheering crowds without a backwards glance, making his way back into his 'pit of attonement', a place of solitude where he feels he must attone for things he could never have prevented and things he never did in the first place.
And as I sit my mind wandering from place to place as I sit upon the deep red cushion my father, the previous lord, used during these meetings, dressed in absurdly elaborate, uncomfortable, itchy-hot restrictive robes, pretending to listen to the people whose opinions are supposed to matter to me, I begin to wonder.
Maybe somewhere, out in the ruins of the City of Ancients, deep within the woods where the trees are infused with Mako, glowing in the prepetual night caused by who knows what, maybe he's sitting beside a crystaline pool of water, thinking about me too.
A/N: Ngah...there! It's done and I'm not writing any more of it. I know it's not that great, but I'm sort-of happy with it. Please forgive any spelling errors, I'm doing my best, but I don't have a word processor with spell check. I MIGHT do a follow up with Vincent, but it's highly unlikely.