Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII. But then again, maybe I'm related to the owners due to the fact that I'm of the species homo sapien, so who knows…

AN: This is the continuation of "Cutting," due to ignoredflower's remark about wanting to know what happened next. I read the review, and it got me thinking too, . Once again, thank you all for reading and reviewing! Haha…already seven chapters. For everybody who's reading this for the first time, if you haven't read "Cutting," then please read it! Thank you!

.:Vicissitudes:.

They did not speak again throughout the trip out of the caves. Barret sensed the tenseness in the atmosphere and understood that something injurious had occurred, but did not press the matter. The way both Yuffie and Vincent avoided each other while slaughtering creatures with rancorous force told him enough. But the two's animosity still grated on his nerves endlessly. So when the former AVALANCHE leader finally saw Cloud's distinctive head framed by a halo of grey clouds, Barret nearly jumped for joy and hugged Cloud with unnecessary strength, choking the slight warrior.

"Man, I love ya Cloud, I do! I finally know what Tifa's got fer ya, ya lucky bastard!" Barret cried blissfully beside Cloud's ear, deafening the twenty-one year old with his stentorian voice. When Cloud began to produce sounds reminiscent of a dying fish's, Barret finally let go and sniffed, his joy radiating from his crinkled eyes.

Massaging his ribs and checking them for damage, Cloud managed to choke out a question. "What are you so happy about? Usually, you just slap me on the back and tell me that I'm being too calm for your liking."

At this, Barret's face darkened, and he gestured furtively to the cave mouth, where his two companions stood, their mutual antagonism casting a shadow over their moods. Yuffie's knuckles were white, her hands gripped tightly on the Oritsuru. A splash of black blood still lingered on its silver-white wings. Vincent, on the other hand, showed no sign of any emotion; but his cross-armed stance emitted an anger that Cloud easily picked up.

"Did something happen?" whispered Cloud.

Barret's expression was grim. "You could say that."

Yuffie cleaned her weapon absently, her mind occupied by unusually somber thoughts. The reeds surrounded the log she sat on, rising in a green forest around the lake. A chilly breeze ruffled her hair, but she did not mind the cold.

The sixteen-year-old was notorious for being a treacherous, solipsistic brat, she knew, and the material theft incident did nothing to dispel that. But she had always hoped that they would forgive her, maybe even come to be fond of her sometimes scattered disposition. She had certainly become fond of them, and Vincent, especially, tugged at her heart strangely.

Her experiences with the tall gunman, granted, had not exactly been pleasant. His callous remark to Don Corneo had cut her more deeply than anything her father had said to her in anger. It was his total lack of consideration that struck her as a crueler blow than even a physical attack would have been. It was as if she were nothing but a bystander, someone whose fate did not concern Vincent in the least.

Maybe that was why she wanted him to recognize her the most, perhaps to forgive her. But it seemed that Lucrecia was far more important to him than any petulant adolescent was. Running the polishing cloth over the Oritsuru's blades, she was inattentive and felt the sharp silver slice across her finger.

Swearing at the pain, she inspected the inch-long cut that was bleeding profusely all over her hand. "This isn't worth a Cure," she muttered, searching around her for her pack. But she had left her supplies with Cloud at the main camp, seeking solace. Now she would have to walk back, with her injured finger dripping hot blood all over her clothes.

"Damn you stupid shuriken," she swore at the guilty weapon. Grumbling she turned toward the direction of the camp, but stopped when she saw a familiar figure on the path. Vincent stood there, his face hidden by the high collar of his red cloak. She did not know how long he had been there, but his arrival brought about a swirl of chaotic emotions. "Hey, Vincent," she greeted him softly.

"…" A typical Vincent answer.

But what he did next surprised her to no end. In a flash of whirling red, he appeared suddenly in front of her and raised her bloody hand, his grip light. An embroidered white handkerchief was drawn from somewhere in the depths of his cloak, and he proceeded to wrap it around her finger with quick but gentle movements. The task finished, he released her and turned, no emotion ever showing on his face.

Yuffie blinked, then instinctively called out to him. "Wait!" He paused in his step, but did not turn back to her. But now that she had his attention, she had nothing to say, and she mumbled a bit. "Um…I, uh, that is…"

He did not move, and she gained a bit of courage. "I just want to say that I'm sorry for slapping you," she said in a rush. "And that I shouldn't have talked about her like that." She waited for and feared his response.

Vincent did not say anything, seeming to consider her words for a moment. Then he swiftly reached inside his cloak and withdrew something that sparkled, tossing it to her. She caught it with her good hand and saw that it was a Cover materia; the magenta orb glowed with an inner fire that was characteristic of Mastered materia. Comprehension struck her as she realized how much damage he must have been taking with the Cover in his Winchester.

"Keep it. It is approximately 200 AP from being Mastered," he said, looking into her eyes with his own garnet ones. At the mixture of gratitude and confusion he saw, he looked down at the reeds. "I received it from Cloud some time ago, when he requested that I protect you from serious injury, due to the fact that you are the youngest of us."

Yuffie was furious. "That idiot…" she muttered. She had half a mind to punch Cloud right now for this.

But Vincent was continuing. "I knew you would not need my protection; nor would you want it. But I kept the materia anyway…I did not know the reason for it, but I think I do now."

He turned toward her once more, something shining in the depths of his eyes. "Thank you." They were just two simple words, a brief expression of gratitude, but at that moment, they meant more than the most florid speech of appreciation that she had ever heard. As he turned to leave, she knew that she no longer feared loneliness, that maybe there would always be someone watching for her when she couldn't see the future.

AN: For clarification, I just want to say that Yuffie cares a lot for Vincent and she knows it, but she doesn't think it's because she likes him romantically. As for Vincent, he cares for her also, but he doesn't know it, or at least he's denying it. And on a totally different track, happy Mardi Gras!