(A/N: Thanks to my one reviewer for reviewing. Ahem.))

Chapter Two :: Lives Intertwined

"Syries." A voice called into a room bathed in white. "Syries!" Without making a sound, the short figure that had called out the brown haired girl's name walked through the ajar door, entering the dimly lit laboratory.

"Hi." She squeaked back, staring at her toes.

The little boy before her, his silvery hair still shining in a room at this lack of light, giggled. "You're scared." He laughed again. "What're you so afraid of? They aren't going to kill you. They need you."

She looked up at him, at his smiling face, and caught that contagious happiness. Surely he was right. The doctors here wouldn't kill her...

She hoped.

-::-

Syries awoke slowly from her dream, still infused with what had made her so sick the night before. As she looked around, she noticed that this was not the same house as before. For one thing, the walls weren't beat up. For another...there were other voices speaking here. Then she remembered: last night she had been, in effect, poisoned. And that guy, the one with black hair, had saved her. Why he had done such a thing, she had no idea, but thought it would be best to at least thank him.

"Or not."She thought, after trying to get up. For some reason, every part of her body hurt today. At the muffled sound she had made, a girl with short, dark hair had run into the room.

"Hey! Vincent!" She yelled loud enough for it to make Syries' ears hurt. "She's up!" The figure she called out to sighed from the other room. "You speak to loudly for early mornings, Yuffie." He said aloofly, walking through a large opening where a door would have stood. In the full daylight—for the sun had risen to its highest point, which meant this was by far the latest Syries had slept for days—she could finally see how strange her savior was to the eye. Long black hair draped over his shoulders, which were in turn covered by a great red cloak. Two shining "gloves" covered his hands, whose arms hung loosely, almost as if he believed that he could not be stopped. Yet he had another look to him somewhere in that ancient face, one that believed that he could easily meet death's door, and that life was a gift too precious to waste. An oxymoron. She thought. He was strange indeed. Syries reminded herself that she was not so much better, with her red streaked hair and strange eyes. She could have matched the man, Syries mused, if there was any question of oddity.

"I hope you feel better this morning than last night." Vincent had lost his way somewhere down the road of trying to be congenial, and now sounded colder than usual. But that in and of itself didn't bother Syries.

"I can't see how I could be worse." She said, coming up from lying down onto her elbows. Funny room. She thought, looking around, yet felt that any room in Midgar was more than comparable to what she had known for the past months. "Thank you." She said, this time her voice solemn.

"So anyway people, I think we should introduce ourselves. Unless you already have of course, but you don't know me!" Called out the ninja, skipping past Vincent to stand at the foot of the bed Syries had been placed on. "I'm Yuffie Kisaragi, the greatest ninja of them all."

"And so humble too…" Mumbled Vincent to himself, walking off as he decided to eat breakfast.

With her hands at her hips and a smirk on her face, Yuffie, yelled for Vincent to come back. She wouldn't be stopped so easily as this!

"Well, be that way if you want, Mister Scary-Man!" She called, "But I think it'd be a good idea to tell a person your name once you've carried 'em off and let them sleep in your bed last night!"

Vincent stopped cold. The way she had put it just then…disgusting. He was already irritated at the fact that there was no information on who or what had attacked the girl here, and this only pushed the issue. Yuffie had a way of doing that, though.

"Valentine." He called back without even bothering to turn around. "My name is Vincent Valentine."

Yuffie sighed. There was no getting through a little humour to that guy, she thought, unhappy with the outcome of her toying with his mind. It was all just meant in fun, after all. There hadn't been any need to get defensive or whatever he called that. "Hey, how about you?" She asked suddenly, whipping around to face the girl clad in the bloodstained grey shirt and black pants.

"About me?" Syries asked, confused.

"Your name! Come on, doesn't anyone get this at all?"

Sitting up as best she could, the brown and red haired girl coughed. She hoped they both weren't too excited to ask about her past, that would only take more explaining. And more talking at this point only meant more coughing. "I'm Syries."

"Syries what?"

"Nothing. Just Syries."

The ninja raised an eyebrow. Usually you had to look out for people without last names, especially around here. Maybe that's how people named their children on this side of town, but she didn't think so. It seemed a little strange. That sentiment was shared by Vincent, who turned around to look at the two girls.

"Is it."

He said nothing more, and being hungry, just walked off into the kitchen.

-::-

Syries still didn't feel like getting up as she smelled egg cooking in the kitchen, good as it seemed. Her muscles had cried out in pain the last time she tried it, and now Syries had become a little wary of it. Hurt has a way of doing that to people, she mused.

There was a sound nearby, right next to her in fact. A cellphone.

"Ay ay ay ay A-eh-Aaaay!" Called out a cheerful ringtone, quite unheard over Vincent and Yuffie's discussion on whether or not bumpy chokobo eggs were bad for you. The phone rang again. And again.

"Um, Vincent?" Syries called. The only answer was Yuffie yelling back at her friend that he was a very bad "egg-picker."

Shrugging her shoulders, Syries reached past the pillow and picked up the cellphone.

"Hello?"

"He…woah…" Said a boyish voice from the other line. "Hey, do I have the wrong number or something?"

"Who were you trying to reach?" Syries asked patiently.

"Oh, just the depressing dude named Vincent Valentine, but—"

"Hold on a second."

Holding the phone away from her mouth, Syries called through a single minute of silence in Yuffie and Vincent's discussion to where he stood at the door, about to go change out of clothes splattered with egg yolks.

"Vincent, someone's wants to talk to you."

An eyebrow raised, but nonetheless irritated that someone had gotten his number, he took the phone. "Hello?"

"So, is she hot?"

Vincent jerked back suddenly, taken aback by words that could be spoken by none other than…

"Reno."

"You guessed it!" Reno replied happily. "I get it, you moved away from us to pick up some city chicks!"

"That's not—Yuffie!" He put down the phone momentarily to catch a plate of food from falling off of the counter. "I can do it on my own, thank you very much." She growled back. Sighing, Vincent picked up the phone again. "How did you get this number."

"Well…" Vincet prepared himself for a long story. "You see, I was over here in Midgar, and I thought, why not go get a drink with Cloud? The poor dude has to be bored out of his mind not having anyone to beat up. So he's off doing errands or something, and Tifa's whining about how Cloud left his phone on the table again. I tell her I'll give it to him, but happen to see your name as the last person called! Isn't that great?"

"So what you're saying is…" Returned Vincent with an air of displeasure, "that you went through Cloud's records on his phone, without his consent."

"You might say that." Vincent was about to hang up when Reno started talking again. "Hey, I guess this means Yuffie stayed the night at your place, huh? Two girls with you. Man, you've changed a lot!"

And as can be the only comeback from Vincent Valentine to this strain of conversation, silence pervaded the air. It soon ended with a click.

-::-

Syries watched silently as Vincent walked back into the house later that day, after a long walk downtown. Unbeknownst to her, he had been seeking out Syries' attacker. She turned away as he looked back at her, feeling at a loss for words after the conversation her existence had caused with that person on the phone. The girl fought within herself for a reason to speak, something worthwhile to say that could end her terrible effect on those around her.

"I'm sorry."

As Vincent turned his puzzled face to the girl, she continued. "The phone conversation. I heard it, and…yeah. I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

He shrugged mildly. "I couldn't have expected any more from Reno."

"That doesn't make it any less my fault." She sighed, fighting through pain to stand upright. Syries couldn't decide if it hurt more to move or try to be in the presence of someone like him, especially after something like this had happened. I'm such a fool.

"I still want to know." Said Vincent, his feet clanging metallically against the floor. "What tried to kill you back there?"

Syries gripped the bed's frame as another wave of pain coursed through her body. Vincent asked what was wrong, but she said nothing to that. He had helped too much already, she decided, forcing her body to sit upright. Doing her best to breathe normally, the girl spoke again. "It really doesn't matter."

The man's head cocked strangely as he looked at her. Somehow, the idea of someone trying to kill another generally did matter, making this an even odder calamity. "…doesn't matter?"

"Not as much as you think, I mean." She said quietly. "It was bound to happen, so who it was didn't make so much of a difference."

His brow knit in wonder. How a person, anyone at all, could think that they were bound to be attacked was beyond him…unless there was more to the story than he was being told. "So you don't know who it was." She didn't say anything. She just stared listlessly past him, her sight covering the whole room. At last, it came back to rest on Valentine. As she looked, a memory superimposed itself, nay—forced itself into her consciousness. Vincent's long black hair flashed white for three terrible seconds, his eyes so red, were blue. And as for the cape? It was black.

"I've waited for this, my little memory-maker." Said the voice of that figure as Vincent spoke words she couldn't hear. "You may be worthless without them, but…"

"You are mine now."

Meanwhile, Vincent had waited in suppressed wonder as her dimly lit eyes stared fearfully into his own. As her legs gave way and Syries fell to the floor, Vincent managed to catch her shoulders. He set her on the ground. He could hear her shiver, whispering in fear. Kneeling to the floor, he listened to the short, chant-like sound falling from her quivering lips. It was one he didn't want to hear.

"Se…" She coughed again, trying to breathe more than ever. But the fear of what would happen if she did not say that name was too much.

"Se…..phiroth…."

Q & A Session:

Le Pecore Nere: Yep, that's the girl from the Prologue and Chapter One. Sorry if it was confusing, I just forgot to use her name instead of "the girl."

Oh, and I'm sorry if this part's confusing too. I was sick when I wrote most of it. Again, thanks for your great review!