Okay, I figured out what this is about! Yay?

The next morning, Yuffie woke up to the sound of hammers and saws, of workmen shouting orders. Still, the sound was nice. They sounded happy, and she was excited to see Nibelheim restored.
Maybe I'll help them out a bit, She thought absently, and got out of bed.

Vincent had been wakened by the sound as well; the loud banging of tools. He found it unpleasant and distracting. He was perfectly fine with Nibelheim being rebuilt, but did it have to be so damn noisy?
All he wanted was peace and quiet, so he could think and read and do simple things. Things to forget.
He got up and went downstairs in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants, forgetting that there was a small female ninja in the house.
He wasn't a noisy cook- while most were perfectly content to just clang their pots and pans against each other, singing at the top of their lungs, he preffered being silent and efficient. Maybe it was the dormant remnants of his Turk training, or maybe it was just him. He'd changed since he was a boy.
When Vincent was a child, he was happiest in the mud with the other boys, making pies out of sopping wet earth and rolling in filth, laughing at the top of his lungs and coming back to his parents grinning and caked with dried mud and clay. Or running through now vanished woods barefoot, pretending to be an indian or whatever struck his fancy. He and his friends found the pretend games more interesting and amusing than anything else, actually.
Somewhere during his Turk years, he'd forgotten about that. Maybe it was the first time he'd killed someone, seeing the blank eyes staring at him, and whenever he closed his eyes, he would see the person's face. Maybe it was when Lucrecia had broken his heart and stepped on it, twisting her purple stiletto heel into his chest. Maybe it was when he has ceased to be human, on that cold stainless-steel operating table.
Somewhere during those events, he'd had to focus on what was real, had to be efficient and quiet if he wanted to survive.

Momma, pretend is more fun than real things.
I know, Vincent. But today we have to be serious. Okay?
But I don't like being quiet.
I know, Vincent. But during sad times we have to be quiet and real, okay? Sometimes we have to do things efficiently, even though we don't like doing them.
Okay, Mom.
Good boy.

Fun came after survival.

Yuffie came downstairs whistling, skipping, and grinning. "Hey, Vinnie-boy! How are ya?" She asked, voice loud and cheery.
"Indoor voice," Vincent muttered, and she laughed. "Alright, alright, sheesh. I'm not that loud, am I?"
"My ears are-"
"Sensitive, yeah, I know. 'Cause of your mystical demon powers. Which, by the way, are SO not as cool as my ninja skills. Okay? Oh, yeah, um, I was wondering if you were helping with the rebuilding process. Are you? 'Cause it seems like they could use some help."
"I...have not participated directly in the effort, no."
"Which basically means you're a lazy bum, but okay, Vinnie. Geez, what do you do all day? You need a project, you know. Oh, I know! We could fix up this old place."
"What's wrong with it?"
"Well, for one thing, half the doors are creaky, some of the floorboards are crooked and rotting, the wallpaper is faded...the faucet drips, the paint is chipped, we should probably replace all of the wood in case of fire, stuff like that. Basically, the only thing that's good about this place is the foundation and the insulation. We should replace the piping, give the whole place a paint job, and redo the floors, for one thing. And replace some of the antique furniture. Also, you could use new doors on some of the rooms... there's a lot of work."
"And who is going to pay for all of this?"
"Well, I'll help. I have a pretty good allowance, you know." She winked, grinning. "Not to mention, there's probably some sellable antiques here and there. Also, you have some money, right? You were a really good Turk, so you must have some cash holed away somewhere."
He nodded. "True." Actually, the remake would be convenient. He wouldn't have to do much, and he wouldn't have to work his way around small daily nusiances as much.
"I suppose we could do it."
"Awesome! Okay, I'll get started planning."
"You do that."