Yuffie held the phone from her ear, glaring at the thing as though the simple act might convince the device opposing her wishes was futile. The voice on the other end continued to speak, the sounds familiar, beloved and impossibly grating. She replaced the phone to her ear, catching the tail-end of her father's diatribe. " –and I fear they are correct. You have been too long gone. There are things we must discuss."
She sighed. It was not as though Yuffie was unaware what it was her father wanted. She was just loath to return, was all. Uncertainly assailed her for a long embarrassing moment and she frowned. That was not her. She was Yuffie, Ninja Extraordinaire, White Rose of Wutai. "Fine. You know what, I'll come over and we can talk then. How's that?"
"Truly?" The surprise in her parent's voice was almost painful to hear. "When? Soon, yes? It has to be soon." Wincing slightly, she did her best to keep from slamming the phone shut and cutting the conversation short. It was not his fault she couldn't make peace with the past; or rather not as much his fault as she had been happy to assume once. She had one more week off of missions and unless some emergency came up, she would have more than enough time to settle whatever matters her father thought needed settling.
"Three days." No use in delaying it more, she told herself as her kin audibly sighed on the other end. The relief was palpable. "I have to go back now but I'll see you in three days, so there," she excused herself, even though she knew very well Tifa could handle the bar on her own for a few minutes. Godo, presumably pleased with his victory, let her off with hardly a protest.
She did not enter the house straight away. Instead, Yuffie sat down on the stairs, bringing her knees up to pillow her head. Grunting as the beginnings of a headache teased her temples, she closed her eyes and turned her face into the soft material of her skirt. The slightly cool summer night offered her the reprieve she sought. But even then she could not seem to calm herself enough to take advantage of the opportunity.
Why did she have to be so very inept at handling her cares? Frustrated tears gathered and she had to grit her teeth against them. Tifa trusted her to help with the bar. If she went back looking like something the cat had dragged in, she would only make everything worse. Sniffling softly, Yuffie lifted her head from her knees and gazed up at the sky. She could not see the stars. Too many lights, she expected. "Leviathan, give me strength," she muttered. With that, she forced herself to her feet, hands working to dust off the dark material of her garment before she turned around and opened the door gently.
The back room was cluttered with papers, the faint scent of dust and oil clinging to the walls. Yuffie turned the lights off on her way out, knowing all too well Cloud was only due to return in a day or so. Stepping gingerly over the threshold, she made her way back to the bar area, taking in the unfolding scene.
Her friend was leaning over the counter, seemingly in conversation with a patron. Yuffie supposed it was one of the regulars by the way his proximity was accepted. She looked around the tables, noting a newly arrived group who were in the midst of shedding their jackets. Time to take the bull by the horns, she thought; pasting a polite smile upon her face as she approached the trio. "Good evening, gentlemen," she greeted, studying the three at leisure. "What can I bring you?"
It was often assumed that the personnel working the bars lived through a constant string of harassment from the establishment's patrons. That was simply not the case in Seventh Heaven. One either acted according to Tifa's standards or one was kicked to the curb. The occasional drunkard would try to grab, certainly, but one glare or a slap to the wrist put a swift end to such shenanigans. On the other hand, some men, like the three before her, were only concerned with their drink and did not even seem to notice who brought said beverages. Not that she wanted the attentions of these men.
In predictable Yuffie-fashion, she had no hope of attaining the attention of the man she did want; not in a romantic sense, in any event. It would be monstrously unfair of her to say Vincent paid her no mind. He answered when she called and occasionally came to their get-togethers and then there were the handful of WRO missions they had worked together. But it was what it was; whether her age was at fault, or her appearance or some other reason altogether, she was not a candidate for the brooding man's interest, albeit, Vincent had gone as far as to call her a friend.
She would have to make do with that. Much as it pained her to admit, being his friend was better than not seeing him at all. She moved from the table of the three men and up to Tifa, giving her the order. The older woman gave her an odd little look; something like a question in her gaze. Yuffie shook her head. She did not want to discuss it. Tifa have a hesitant nod. And that was that.
She took the three drinks on a tray and brought them to her clients.
The rest of the night went by in similar fashion, meaning that she had enough activity to see her walking about, but nowhere near enough of it to leave her exhausted. She would have preferred being exhausted. It helped her fall asleep. But then one couldn't have everything in life, could one? At least she would soon be enjoying the company of her friends for their little reunion. Tifa had planned and schemed, cajoled and coaxed until she had managed to extract a promise from most members of AVALANCHE that they would be there.
By the time they'd finished sending the honoured clientele, as Yuffie had taken to calling Tifa's patrons in her head, out and they'd cleaned the tables and dishes and floors and anything else, truly, which needed a good washing, Yuffie found that she was, in fact, tired. It was not as thorough a workout as fighting monsters, yet it came close enough.
Before she might retreat to the bedroom she shared with Marlene, the owner of Seventh Heaven stopped her short in her tracks. "You're not thinking of running off on me, are you?" Tensing, Yuffie glanced over her shoulder. Tifa merely crooked her finger by manner of response. "We have to talk."
"Can't this wait?" By the hard stare she received, Yuffie surmised it could not. She could have known better than to think Tifa would drop the matter. With a huff, she turned on her heel and returned to the kitchen, sitting down at the dining table. The wooden frame of the chair creaked as she shifted uneasily into her seat. "I'm all ears."
"I believe that's my line," the buxom barmaid returned, her voice warm and inviting. "Don't think I can't tell something's been bothering you." Indeed, and most of it had to do with Wutai and its troubles, which spilled out into her life. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but you should talk to someone."
If she dared confide in someone other than Tifa, Yuffie suspected she'd be no better than some ruffian kicking a puppy. Screwing her courage to the sticking place, she admitted, in as clear a way as she could, "I think the Council back in Wutai has finally lost its patience. My father's been pushing to have me back for a while now."
In truth, the Council had been quite a bit more patient with her than Yuffie would've given them credit for, all thing considered an altogether singular occurrence, as far as she could tell. She was twenty, still unmarried and very much entangled with her various responsibilities at WRO. Any other White Rose would have been dragged back by hook or by crook, trussed up into a shiromuku and married before the gods with plenty of time to spare before her seventeenth birthday. But her time seemed to have run out. Not even the Emperor himself could oppose the Council indefinitely. Not if he wished to keep his throne, in any event. The clans and the old ways still held enough sway with the Wutaian people that deposing a monarch was not impossible.
"What do they want from you?" Yuffie smiled at the question. When younger she'd thought anyone would look at her and understand her situation. "Has your father told you anything?"
"No, but I can guess. Godo is getting on in years; the Council wants to know the future is taken care of." She shrugged at the look of wonder on Tifa's face. "I'm leaving after the party. It might take a bit before I can get back in touch."
Warm hands reached out for her own, squeezing softly. "As long as you do get back in touch."
"Here, let me hold her for you." Yuffie lifted little Shannon to her chest, cooing at the girl. "Hey there, Shannon. Hey, sweetie. What a pretty dress you have." She grinned down at the baby who was looking at her with wide blue eyes. She had some difficulty wrapping her head around the fact that Cid had fathered her. Cid, of all people; who could've seen that coming? Not her.
"Don't drop her, you fucking brat." Resisting a scowl at Cid's words, lest she scare the child, Yuffie lifted her head and stuck out her tongue. She pulled a face, glancing back at the girl. She was adorable, truly, with that mop of gold-red curls and tiny freckles and sweet smile.
"Don't you worry your head, old man. I have steady hands." She secured Shannon in her hold and looked to Shera who was smiling at the two of them, hand placed on Cid's arm. She was glad those two had finally seen the light. So as to better reassure Cid, because Yuffie had some idea regarding the man's true nature, she smiled widely. "Really; don't worry. Tifa will likely take her form me before you can blink."
With that, she led the small family into the bar where Tifa was speaking to Cloud quietly. At the arrival of the Highwinds, however, the two broke apart and the woman welcomed them with a big smile. "Cid, Shera! And you've brought Shannon."
And with that, Yuffie found her arms empty and her feet carrying her back to the door as a round of knocks reached her ears. She opened the door, not entirely surprised to see Vincent Valentine standing there. Unbidden, a smile touched her lips. "Vinnie, come on in." She eyed him carefully as she stepped to the side. "It's good to see you."
"Likewise, Yuffie." The past two months they'd not seen much of one another. He had been busy working some mission for Reeve and she had had her own assignments, most of them accomplished on her own. "You look well." He nodded as though to strengthen the words; his eyes, ruby red and glinting even in the low light, remained upon her for a long moment.
"The same to you," she replied, keeping her voice deliberately light. And that was true; he seemed to have lost some of his gauntness and though still pale, he seemed, if nothing else, quite as handsome as ever. Yuffie schooled her features into a friendly display and reached out to pat his arm gently. "Cid is already here, with Shera and their kid. Barret is running late. Is Reeve coming?" Nanazki was the only one who had outright declined the invitation.
"Not sure. He said he'd try." Vincent fell into step with her as she led him to where the others had gathered.
"Vince, I'm surprised to see you here," Cid said, loudly, much to the dismay of his wife who shot him a hard stare. Not that it bothered him in the least; Yuffie was fairly certain he chose to remain blind to about seventy-five percent of Shera's cues on principle alone.
"Why would you be?" Vincent returned in his usual manner, too serious by half. Cid, who'd not thought beyond that little barb of his, was left floundering for words.
Yuffie stepped around him to reach Shera. She asked if she could pick Shannon up again. Shera gave her up willingly, claiming that Shannon liked her Aunt Yuffie. About that, she was not certain; but the girl was smiling and looking around with a great deal of curiosity. Babies her age explored once they felt comfortable enough in their environment.
With that in mind, she put Shannon down, making certain to offer support as the girl tottered around. As luck would have it, Shannon found Vincent as magnetic as Yuffie did and before long, short legs were pumping, leading the both of them in the direction of the gunman who had settled into conversation with Shera.
With surprising force for someone so small, Shannon ripped her hands out of Yuffie's hold and grabbed onto Vincent's leg with a delighted squeal. The gunslinger paused mid-speech and stared down. His eyes landed first on Yuffie herself, whose expression bore some sign of mortification, and then to the child who was demanding she be picked up.
"Guess she really likes you, Vince," the princess said, her dark eyes glinting with something he could not name. "Must be all your brooding charm." It could have been that he was simply hearing things, albeit he much doubted that, but he thought he heard a slight hitch in her breath.
Having never been of a particularly unobservant bent, Vincent was uncertain how anyone could miss the clear signs the ninja exhibited. Yet at the same time she seemed uncomfortable with the reality of her attraction, thus he had decided it would be best to give her time to sort it all out for herself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Galian Beast stirred, an appreciative little growl curling inwards at whatever it was he could pick up. The voices had more or less dissipated after the Deepground incident, though faint impressions would still come to him every now and again. He supposed it was to do with the very many years of having had the demons around. While he was powerless to guess what it was that Galian Beast had been so very pleased with, he found his own reasons to experience appreciation at that particular moment.
She stared at him with her dark gaze and customary pert grin. Vincent felt the corner of his mouth lift in answer to her expression. He looked back to the girl clutching him. Careful not to startle her, he picked Shannon up, much to her delight by the way she happily chanted and clapped. Behind her, Yuffie straightened, bringing her own hands together in a similar gesture. "You sure made quick work of him, Shannon. Doing your aunt, proud." Turning to the girl's father, Yuffie went on, "I wonder if she'll break more hearts than you'll break legs, old man."
"Legs?" the pilot growled, "I'll be fucking breaking necks." She laughed at that, her voice carrying the sound of silver bells. "Don't be laughing, brat; that's a father's job. And Barret would agree with me if he got his fucking arse here already."
"I shudder to think what the two of you could do put together," Yuffie answered. Vincent, having given Shannon back to her mother's loving embrace, was free to meet her gaze when she finally turned to face him once more. "I pity the poor girls already." She moved to the empty spot next to him. Sitting crossed-legged with her hands in her lap, subtle smile in place and giving him a playful look, she was quite lovely. Her lips parted, pinning his attention to her mouth. Before she could say a thing though, heavy knocking caused her to jump. Cloud was out of his seat and making his way across the room, signalling that she should sit back down just as she was halfway out of her seat.
"You were saying," Vincent prompted when she failed to return her attention to him.
Yuffie, letting Cloud out of sight, faced him and blinked with some apparent confusion. "I was saying?"
"Hn." By the look on her face, that was not an answer she appreciated.
"Really, Vinnie; 'hn'? Now let me see, where was I?" She thought for a moment then her face lit with realisation. "Oh yes; it reminds me a lot of home, actually. Heaven forbid too close an association between the sexes take place." He quirked an eyebrow at that, having expected at least some derision for the view. "But I do understand it, I guess, and if the method works, there's no arguing against it." That surprised him even more.
"What the fuck are you grumbling about over there?" Cid interrupted before anything of significance could pass between them. Vincent very nearly frowned because Yuffie was once more looking away, rolling her eyes at Cid.
"We were speaking about traditions; I'd invite you to issue an opinion, but I fear you're rather clueless on the subject." It was Barret's voice, however, that answered Yuffie, just as Vincent caught sight of him and Cloud making their way in, Marlene trailing after the men.
"She's got you there, fool. But then ain't you one to talk, girl?" Yuffie had swiveled to face the new arrivals, opening her arms wide for a joyful Marlene to burrow into her. "This must be the first time I've seen you dressed like a girl your age."
"Didn't know you cared," Yuffie laughed, appearing to take no umbrage with the words, or the implied criticism of Barret's tone.
"'Course I care." Thankfully, before the situation could devolve any further, Tifa cut in, calling Marlene over to see Shannon.
"You as well, Barret. Look how much she's grown." Tact, Vincent decided, as the barmaid's voice and the attention of others faded, finally leaving him and Yuffie to their conversation, was a very useful skill to have cultivated.
"You don't seem bothered," he noted, keeping his voice low. As close as they were, she would hear him very well.
"I'm not." She sounded sincere. But then Yuffie could lie very well when it so suited her. She held his gaze, cocking her head thoughtfully. "Taking up a certain lifestyle and being forced into it are two very different things."
"Hn." Yuffie's lips quirked softly at the sound.
She placed her hand upon his shoulder, leaning slightly in. "I knew you'd understand."
Having lived many a year in the care of her mother and grandmother, Yuffie certainly knew the benefits of tradition. Proper care had been given to her education in her formative years, much of it on the subject of her shinobi skills, but a good deal had also covered the structures keeping their world in place. There were explanations for traditions if one wished to look into them. She could respect that. In fact, Lady Kushina and her grandmother, Lady Hisako, had made certain she had a very high appreciation of the rules binding their society.
"There is something nostalgic about this song," Yuffie commented, soap suds clinging to her forearms. Vincent looked at her unabashedly, studying the way warmly tinted light fell against her tresses and skin. It lent her a golden glow. She hummed along with the chorus, not truly bothering to form the words. "So tell me, Vinnie, what gives?" Glancing over her shoulder, she fixed him with an expectant stare.
Yuffie in a domestic environment, working her way through chores was a difficult sight to come by. She returned to humming as she awaited his reply, eyes darting back to the delicate porcelain between her hands. Vincent admired her for a moment longer before forcing his eyes away as he downed the reminder of his wine. "Reeve would've told you, had he made it this evening, but he's thinking of sending us on a new assignment."
The sound of water running cut off abruptly. "Nothing new there," she muttered, drying her hands off before she took to drying the dishes one by one and putting them in their respective place. "Is there something special about this occasion?"
"It's Wutai territory." He saw her shoulders tense and her back draw straighter. She put away the last of the plates and whirled around, eyeing him with such intensity that his heart was compelled to pause for just a moment before it redoubled its efforts. "Reeve seems to think trouble is brewing." And most of the time, he was incorrect. But then, better to be overly suspicious than to regret it later.
"Wutai again." Narrowing his eyes slightly at her tone, Vincent leaned in, signalling that he was listening. As partners went, Yuffie placed a fair amount of trust in him. In spite of not breathing a word with regards to her personal feelings, she had little trouble speaking about her troubles. She sat down at the table, propping her chin on her right hand. Staring at the wall ahead, she pursed her lips. "I'm actually leaving for Wutai in two days' time." She reached out for the untouched cup of juice she had poured herself earlier. "It's almost enough to make a girl wish she could take up heavy drinking."
"Yuffie." She pouted up at him before taking a sip of her drink. "I assume the emperor requested your presence."
"Yeah, he sure did. I don't know how long I'll be. I hope not too long, but it's hard to say what with the Council getting involved." It took a brief moment for him to catch on. While he had some knowledge of the powers at play in Wutaian politics, it had been a while since he'd discussed such topics. Yuffie rarely spoke of her homeland. "It's probably the wedding issue again though." She ran her fingers through her hair, now falling down to her shoulders, in an exasperated gesture. "Honestly, you'd think they might take a hint and just pick someone else for the throne already. But no, clearly getting me hitched is much, much more important of an issue."
Vincent pondered the wisdom of offering her the easiest solution which came to mind in that moment. Within him, Galian growled warningly. The creature's understanding of human customs might have been derisory at best, but even that demon had some awareness of what marriage entailed. Of course, the creature was more concerned with the proprietary aspect of such a union. "What will you do if they press for marriage?"
She shrugged. "I'll try buying more time. If they refuse–" She trailed off, biting her lower lip in a rather distracting way. "I don't know, Vinnie. It'd be too easy if I had all the answers." Her expression tore at him; she'd looked similar in Nero the Sable's all-encompassing darkness. He recalled the weight of her in his arms, head cradled against his chest.
On pure instinct, he lifted his right hand, as though he could reach out and drag her away from whatever troubles leeched her usual joviality away. Instead, he found himself cradling her cheek as her eyes shone with something that looked suspiciously like tears. Her own hands climbed up to his, one pressing against the back of his palm, the other on the inside of his wrist. She applied no pressure, seemingly wishing neither to dislodge him, nor to encourage him. There was his chance; Vincent knew the taste of regret, knew all too well he stood to lose no matter his choice. If Yuffie truly held him in some degree of affection and he spoke nothing of his own answering feelings, he would have lost her. If he did show his hand and her affection was not strong enough, or he had simply mistaken the signs, then he would certainly have made things rather awkward between them.
He leaned in, the warmth of her breath playing against him as she let out a surprised little sound. The hold on his hand and wrist turned painful as they stood arrested in the moment, mouths one hairsbreadth apart. And then there was no more space between them.
Like a strike of lightning, the shock of her lips under his burned him to near-pain.
His point made, Vincent drew back. Yuffie's eyes opened slowly, her lips parted ever so slightly. A gentle blush played across her face. Her response was a simple, yet very heavy, "Oh."
"Oh? Have I rendered you speechless?" She blinked several times before something like a smile was swiftly covered behind her knuckles as the hand on his wrist removed its hold and fell away.
"Yes. Oh. A very good kind of 'oh'." Her other hand slipped away as well and he in turn released her from his hold. "Pinch me; I think I'm dreaming." Unfortunately, her mischievous fingers did not find her leg under the table but rather his.
"Yuffie." She shook her head. Vincent pulled her hand from his leg and dropped it in her lap. "You're not dreaming."
"Are you certain?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"I am positive you are not dreaming." The reaction would have been amusing where he not part of the protagonist duo of the little comedy.
"No, not about that. Leviathan; I mean, about me. Are you certain?" He lifted one eyebrow at her. "You are." Her smile was well worth the momentary discomfort of the initial disbelief.