I kept this chapter short, as sort of like an "intermission" between events.
Don't
worry, I'll keep adding more to the story. I have a whole layout
set up. This won't end until I specifically say it will
end. :D
Chapter 08:
It was well into the evening when Yuffie woke up in Tifa's room. Wow, I feel sick. I wonder how I got up here? And why is it dark? She searched for a light and found one. She switched it on and proceeded in searching for the time and found that, too. "Ugh, almost seven," she said out loud to herself. Yuffie stretched, left the room, and made her way down the stairs. She was greeted by the same people as before: Barret, Vincent, Cid, Shera, Red VIII, Cait Sith, the two children, and…
Yuffie looked around the room. "Where's blondie and the bar mistress?"
It took a moment before the group realized who Yuffie was asking for. "If you must know, Spiky and Tifa went on a… err… business trip. Yeah," Barret said finally, "A private trip."
Cid snorted. "A 'business trip?' Is that the best you got? A 'private trip?' Dang, Barret, you're bad at making stuff up. Or making analogies and comparisons, or whatever."
"Well, it is a goddamn trip ain't it?" Barret countered. Cid smirked.
"Call it a goddamn trip, but I'll call it a goddamn outing!"
"Oh, yeah? Then I―"
"Hold it!" Yuffie interrupted. "So, basically, they're not here, right?" Barret and Cid nodded simultaneously. "Uh huh, okay. You don't have to make it so complicated. It's not like I'm totally clueless, you know."
Red shook his head. "People waste too much time getting involved with the drama of others' lives. I suggest we pay attention to matters that actually concern us."
"I agree," said Cid.
"Doesn't concern me, but it sure does interest me!" Yuffie peeped in a squeaky, singsong voice.
Cait Sith stood up, but still at least two-and-a-half feet below everyone's eyes. "Doesn't concern me either, and I was gonna tell Cloud's fortune, too! That would've been fascinating!"
Before anyone realized it, Cid started to yell. "All right, all right! Goddamn, sit all ya asses down!" Everyone suddenly ended their side-talks and took their seats. "Now, I may not seem like it, but I damn well respect Spike-o and Tifa's connections. I'd hate it to hell if a bastard like me and good o' Shera had people talkin' funny behind our backs! This makes me sick―shit! I need a cigarette…" Cid's face was beet-red, but he quickly relaxed and slumped into the couch next to Shera.
"Well said, Captain," said Shera quietly, "A little vulgar in word choices, but still of good will, even so."
"Ugh, yeah, whatever…" Cid mumbled.
The rest of the party sat in silence; some of them, such as Yuffie and Cait Sith, had guilt-stricken expressions on their faces. Vincent got up, walked, and leaned into the corner of the room again. "We're clear, Cid."
"Damn, I don't care anymore, man. I want my cigarette!" Cid complained. He stood up and headed out the door, a cigarette in his mouth. "Ah, that's better…" Cid's faint voice was heard outside the bar.
