Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII.
AN: Wow, I haven't updated in like three months. I sincerely apologize for my inconsistency… Once the tests started, they never ended, so I ended up not sleeping for about two months, and I've been catching up on sleep at school during…well, just about every class. And I'm kind of depressed about my chances of going to college, since I'm too stupid…
And please go check out Gackt's music! He is the very definition of bishounen.
.:Vicissitudes:.
"Cloud, what kind of clothes does Yuffie like?" asked Tifa one lazy day in May, when Cloud had a rare moment of spare time to help Tifa out at the new Seventh Heaven in Edge.
His upper body was completely immersed in the smoking, eternally bronchitic contraption that was their oven. "Could you hand me a wrench?" asked Cloud as peered into the depths of the machine. A tangled mess of color-coded wires were faintly lit by his mako-enhanced eyes. At least having those eyes was useful for something, he thought. A smooth metal handle was placed in his outstretched hand, and he began searching for the bolts that held the oven's outer shell closed. "What were you saying about Yuffie?"
"It's just that I've never seen Yuffie in something pretty, like a skirt or something. I was wondering if I could get some new clothes for her."
Cloud snorted loudly and laughed. "Are you crazy? If you take her shopping, she'll never let you buy something 'pretty.' She'd probably steal your wallet, materia, and weapons before you step into the store," he said as he deftly maneuvered the wrench. "If you want to get her something, you might as well fork over all your materia." Suddenly, something similar in weight to Barret carrying Red XIII slammed onto Cloud's defenseless foot, and he gasped incoherently at the pain.
"That's not very helpful, Cloud," said Tifa, removing her heel from the remains of Cloud's foot. "I don't even know her favorite color, for goodness sakes. Well, it's probably red for Summon materia…."
"Nobody knows Yuffie that well, except for maybe Vincent," said Cloud, while giving Tifa a Sephiroth-level death glare from behind the safety of the oven shell. "She's been hanging onto him for god knows how long now. Remember Valentine's, when we went to see the play?"
"Hmm. Come to think of it, we should get Vincent something too. The whole death reaper tattered cloak is not exactly comforting to look at."
There was a loud clank as the outer shell of the oven suddenly released its grip on the oven and fell—right onto Cloud's knees. "Ow! Stupid ovens…" he said as he scooted out from under the oven and shook the dust bunnies out of his hair. "You know, the only person who knows Yuffie's tastes is Vincent, and the only one who knows Vincent's tastes is Yuffie. We could just ask them."
"Right!" Tifa smacked Cloud's already bruised knee. "That's a great idea! It means I'll just take Vincent with me to go shopping for Yuffie's clothes, and you can take Yuffie!"
"What? I have to go shopping?" There was a suddenly crestfallen look on Cloud's face. Why did he have to make these suggestions?
…
"So why are you dragging me to go buy your clothes again, Cloud?" whined Yuffie as the swordsman dragged her into shop displaying designer battle gear in all shades of black. To her left was a discounted tar black cloak that was apparently bullet-proof. In front was a midnight black pair of boots with a large sign next to it advertising the sixteen hidden blades in the shoes. To her right was a full set of black (that is, ebony stallion black) leather clothes that looked they had just been ripped off Kadaj and his brothers. Cloud was currently examining this display with keen interest. "And you say you aren't related to those three by blood, huh?" muttered Yuffie. "If you wanted to go cosplay as some Sephiroth wannabe, you don't have to drag me along, you know."
"I'm not doing anything like that," he said, tearing his eyes from the display with some difficulty. "We're going to buy something casual for Vincent."
Yuffie face-planted. "You call this casual! What's wrong with you?"
"I don't think anything's wrong. I wear this all the time…"
She sighed. "Figures...but if you wanna buy something for Vinnie, this is the wrong place!" With that, she plied all of her 95 pounds on Cloud's arm and yanked him out of the shop.
…
"What do you think?" asked Tifa, modeling a frilly pink chiffon gown against herself. "Or maybe this." She drew a pale gold satin mini-dress that reached to mid-thigh.
Vincent stared at her with his arms crossed, looking as if he would very much like to shoot someone (perhaps that morbidly obese shopkeeper who was staring at him with an unctuous smile). To say the very least, Vincent was not comfortable if he was anywhere within fifty feet of a lingerie store, and just so it happened, the lingerie display was right next to the dress section. There was also the slight, insignificant fact that he had never been in a women's clothing shop before except for one Turk mission, when he had been ordered to take out an important official's wife.
Tifa mistook the decidedly murderous look on his face as an indication to pick another color. "I see. Baby blue then!"
"Tifa. We are here to shop for Yuffie, correct?" he said impatiently. "There is absolutely no chance that she will accept any clothing that a) covers her abdomen, b) hides more of her legs than the absolute minimum, c) is loose, d) is pink, and e) is overtly feminine. Thus, we are only wasting time here selecting clothes that she will only use for target practice."
"But I want to get her something pretty!" said Tifa, attempting her best puppy-eyes at Vincent. It didn't work.
With a mind to get away from women's clothing stores as soon as possible, he had to avoid the overwhelming urge to just leap out the window and shut himself up in the nearest coffin. But he had a feeling that Tifa's prodigious strength would lead to nothing but a rude awakening for him (he could see her not only opening but breaking the coffin to pieces. Many pieces.) So he decided then to treat this whole affair as yet another type of mission. One that required a certain finesse, as well as a whole lot of boldness.
Taking a deep breath, he strode up to a saleswoman and began speaking to her in a low, urgent voice of what he required. Tifa followed languidly, her eyes constantly caught by the shiny silks and satins around her. Even though she didn't pay much attention, certain phrases from Vincent wafted up to her ears. "…no, that's too long…no, she is not my lover, nor is she my daughter…please refrain from assuming that I am a pedophile…I'd prefer if we keep the subject on clothing and not my marital status…"
Finally, after approximately forty minutes, they exited the store, Vincent walking so rapidly and exuding such an aura of sheer choler that the crowd parted easily before them. Tifa had wanted to see what was in the bag gripped tightly in Vincent's hand, but she decided not to ask after realizing that the clicking sound accompanying their footsteps was the sound of his claw tapping against his gun.
…
"No, he doesn't like button-down collars. He likes point collars," said Yuffie absently as the salesman scrambled to find the exact type of dress shirt that Vincent preferred. "Dark, burgundy red. No claret tones, because that adds blue and he doesn't like blue. Reminds him of his Turk days."
"Yes 'mam!" said the young salesman breathlessly as he ran to the other side of the store.
"Only double cuffs! Now for the tie…" said Yuffie as she scratched her nose.
Cloud stood by, feeling distinctly alarmed as he noted the price tags near him. "Um, Yuffie? Are you sure Vincent would like a suit?"
"Duh. Of course! The only clothes he wore in his Turk days were suits. He was probably born in a little three-piece suit or something."
"And how do you know all these things about what he likes?"
She looked at him incredulously, as if Vincent's preferred suit fabric were essential SOLDIER curriculum. "Don't you know? It's not like you have to be his special friend or anything…it's so obvious."
"Only to you, maybe," muttered Cloud.
"Perhaps he would like one of these!" interrupted the eager salesman, waving a selection of silk ties under Yuffie's nose. She scrutinized them with a seasoned eye as the boy ranted interminably about how he had ran into three storage rooms to fish out these specialty ties. "Hmm…never mind. I think we can go without the tie. This is supposed to be casual, right? You can just put all those back," said Yuffie dismissively.
"B-but…" he trailed off.
She turned back to Cloud. "What'd you say?"
"Never mind..."
…
By the time Cloud and Yuffie had returned to the Seventh Heaven, Vincent was already sitting at the bar, downing a glass of clear alcohol that was probably comparable to the Highwind's fuel. "Vinnie!" screamed Yuffie, engulfing him in a hug around his neck. Vincent turned and thrust a bag at her, and she in turn handed an embossed gold box to him.
Wordlessly, they sat down and nonchalantly opened the packages as Tifa and Cloud watched on with some consternation. "Why do I have a feeling like they do this all the time?" whispered Tifa to Cloud as Vincent showed no surprise that his cufflinks were silver and carried the same Cerberus motif as his gun.
"I don't know…" answered Cloud as Yuffie screamed in delight at the "AWESOME!" pair of black boots she had just discovered.
"Are they—"
"Yes, semi-soft soled for increased flexibility and a silent tread."
"And the gloves—"
"—are reinforced with steel. As for you, did you—"
"I didn't steal the money!"
"So you used Cloud's gil."
"I know what you're going to say. 'That amounts to the same as the unlawful—'"
"—seizure of another individual's legal tender. At least you didn't steal like you did last time…"
"Shut up! I bet you were acting like it's torture to buy my clothes, just like last time!"
"Er…I'm sorry to interrupt, but…" said Cloud. The two turned to him, with identical looks of slight annoyance. "So this isn't the first time you did this?"
"Psh. Of course not!" said Yuffie. "Come on…how else would we know all those little things about each other? And you should have heard the list of 'preferences' the first time I bought something for Vinnie…it just went on and on and on…"
"Your list of requirements for the minimum amount of femininity acceptable in your clothing was equally protracted."
"What are you talking about? There are only sixteen rules!"
Cloud and Tifa sighed and decided unanimously to leave the two. But as they left, they could not help but chuckle to each other over the odd pair. Perhaps they did not know it, but the little things that they argued over now would be the bonds that carry them through the years.
…
AN: Thanks for reading and reviewing! And memorize these numbers: 98 cm, 68 cm, 88 cm. They are Gackt's measurements, and translated to something less model-industry-ish, these numbers mean that he is extremely thin. Anyway…my father is having a fit about how I cannot skip math classes because "you MUST lay down your FOUNDATION!" Yes, with that much emphasis…anyway, the next chapter is already half-written. Thank you again for reading!
