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."
