Authors Note: In honor of my 2000th hit, I give you this drabble.
Rating: K+ (to be safe)
Pairings: Yuffie x Vincent (third person/Vincent's point'o'view).
Notes: Done very quickly: two days!
Music: Umm... the title was inspired by A.F.I's "Silver and Cold".
Timeline: Nineteen years after DOC (Bwuahahaha! Didn't see that coming, did you?).
Drabbletine Summary: Vincent's reminisces of a better time.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. The title isn't even mine! It's AFI's song! -sniff- Well, I do own my three little characters, but...
Drabbletine (noun); A fluffy(ish) humor-drama-drabble-oneshot about Vincent and Yuffie written by Latte.
The Drabbletines (proper noun); a collection of drabbles/oneshots (fifteen to be exact) that are all universally centered on Vincent and Yuffie. They may be good writing (huh, not likely) or they may be bad writing, (Heh, very likely.) but they're still... uh... drabbletines (Stretch of the imagination, that one.). O.o;;
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somber resplendence;;
The sun sank in a bloodied haze, casting a lazy glow over the small town of Nibelheim. The massive clouds were imbrued with crimson. Long tendrils of pristine fleece unfurled from the Mother Cloud, drifting into the yonder, framed by the majesty of the sunset. Autumn's colorful grip was a firm one, painting trees with a free-spirited hand. They stood fast under the dying light, usual greenery tinted blood-red and golden, hues that had little to do with the sun. One could almost feel the trees spread out their leaves, enjoying the warmth that the usually weak fall sun cast upon them. The resplendence of the trees matched but a little of the splendor of the sun.
Two men and a boy sat on the wide crest of a rollicking hill and surveyed the magnificence, huddled close to one another. The remains of a hastily eaten meal lay in a basket.
One of the men was dark-haired and lean, dressed in a loose, simple shirt and black pants. He had serious, unfathomable eyes of fiery crimson hues, and impeccable features. A bundle of giggling blankets was held fast in his arms. A pink fleshy arm extended out of the mass of blankets, catching one of his shoulder-length ebon locks, holding it tight in its fat little fist. The bundle gave a cry at its intelligence, its eyes two brown stones of joy. The man seemed to be pulled out of a deep reverie, noticing the child. With the utmost gentleness, the man rescued his hair from the grip of doom.
The other man was much younger – of adolescent age – sad-eyed, and shorter. Thin-sleeved arms were wrapped around himself in a sort of ward against the cooling temperatures. His unruly black locks tumbled over storm-grey eyes, tickling the prudent nose. He brushed the offending hair away with the back of his hand and wasn't surprised to see tears glistening on it. He scrubbed at his eyes and with a sniff managed to control himself.
The boy had fairer hair, a serious face ill-suited to his youth and tragic blue eyes. He was tall for his young age of eight, just as his face was too old for his age. He looked nothing like his father but for the shape of his eyes. The youth looked up at his father a second before the baby reclaimed the man's hair. Swallowing the lump threatening to form in his throat, he tugged on his father's sleeve. "Dad?"
"Taylor." The man had long since given up trying to teach the baby manners and was quietly accepting his hair-pulling fate.
"I miss her." The child's eyes were wide, searching for comfort in his father's eyes.
His father looked down at him. The man's lips momentarily quirked in a small smile. "So do I."
The teen joined the conversation, adding his baritone to the tenor of his brother and the bass of his father. "Me too. It's been a whole year, but I feel like it's only been a couple days."
The man observed him quietly for a second. He eventually directed his gaze elsewhere, choosing to settle on the sunset. "I know. I feel the same way."
"Dad… why did she have to go?" the tragic-eyed child asked him.
With a sigh, he put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know."
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The light glared off the lake and the melting snow, half-blinding the Shinobi. Her hand rested on her hip, perched by her slim waist. Her other hand was raised to storm-grey eyes, the better to see the landscape. Turning with her characteristic energy, she smiled at me.
"Hey Vince!" she called, waving her hand as if I couldn't see her twenty feet away. "Isn't the view beautiful?"
I made a noncommittal noise, giving my head a little jerk. That would keep her satisfied for the moment.
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The darkness passed through me as if I was part of it. It only took a second, but I already knew what was going to happen before it did. She didn't make a sound; she just vanished along with the darkness. I heard Nero's little hysterical laugh, but didn't pay any attention to it.
The next second, Chaos had taken control. He reached out, like a blind man feeling his way. I closed my own eyes, saw through his, and understood his search. A sort of seam has appeared where the darkness had disappeared. Using my gauntlet, Chaos tore the seam open and handed control back to me at his leisure. Wasting no time, I dove in – and not a moment too late.
The light from the outside world seemed to have pierced the world of darkness. I sensed the ninja opening her eyes. I didn't know what would happen, but I was acting on instinct. I gathered Yuffie in my arms and jumped.
We landed and I set Yuffie on the ground.
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I heard the ninja's tiptoed footsteps down the hall. As quiet as she could be, I doubt there was a noise she could make that I wouldn't hear. I felt a bit of apprehension in the pit of my stomach, but I ignored it. She had told me "live a little" and that's what I was going to do.
I heard her continue past my door. I silently pulled my door open and stepped out behind her. I reached out with my human hand and lightly grabbed her arm.
She jumped and screamed. This being unexpected (though it shouldn't have) I clapped my hand over her mouth and turned her around. She blinked at me for a second, before prying my hand off her mouth. "Oh, Vincent." She said calmly, "Hi."
Amused, I addressed her, "Hello. Yuffie, I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time."
She grinned. "Sure. What's'sup?"
"I just wanted to follow your advice." I replied calmly.
She responded with a confused expression. I could tell she was about to question me, so I lean forward, drew her close, and cut off any response with a kiss.
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"Vincent…"
"Yes, Yuffie?"
"Why do you always respond like that?"
"Because it is a habit."
"You sound so archaic when you do it, though!"
"Do you even know what that means?"
"Um… stuffy?"
I laughed and kissed the top of her head. She gave a giggle and wormed deeper into the blanket cocoon. A fire was blazing in the grate, helping the blanket dispel the cold seeping through the cracks in the dilapidated mansion.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around my arm, resting her chin on my shoulder. "We're so gonna fix this mansion up, and it'll be the sexiest mansion in the world. And people will drool when they walk past, and they'll love it."
"The sexiest mansion?" I asked, casting the amusement out of my voice.
"Like… duh. That's what I said, right?"
"Yes." I murmured, kissing the top of her head again. "That's what you said."
She leaned up and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "I'm tired. I'm going to head upstairs. Don't stay up too long."
"I won't." I promised. "Good night."
Making a sort of affirmative noise, she slid out of the blanket, skittered across the freezing hardwood, and took the stairs two at a time.
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"Marriage. Marriage is what brings us together today…" I barely heard the decrepit old man's words. It had nothing to do with my hearing; my hearing was as sharp as ever. It was sharp enough to hear my heart pounding in my ears like a drum. I could only look at her eyes; I could only see the excitement there – no worry, no nervousness, just determined excitement.
I had already decided: this was going to be the happiest day of my life – even if it killed me to make it so.
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The nurse poked her head in. "Mr. Valentine? Could you follow me, please?" I stood obediently and followed the woman.
When I entered the room, my eyes fell on Yuffie, lying on the hospital bed. Her hair was damp with sweat, but her face was shining. In her arms, wrapped in blankets, was a baby. Hearing the door open, she looked up and gave me and exhausted grin.
"It's a boy."
I win.
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"Did Dad really bet that I was going to be a boy?" Ten-year-old Nathanial questioned his mother with youthful excitement.
"Yes he did!" Yuffie cried, pointing at me with an accusatory finger.
"Oh no." I replied, "Your mother was the one who suggested it."
"I did not!" Yuffie gasped in mock indignation. "Vincent Valentine, I have half a mind to spank you and make you a spectacle for your children so they will know not to lie!"
Three-year-old Taylor interrupted then, deciding he did not like his mashed potatoes and sent them plummeting to the floor where they landed in a sorry heap.
"Oh dear." Yuffie murmured, hurrying over and wiping remaining mashed potatoes off Taylor's chin. Her voice raised a decibel or two. "Taylor! You do not make messes for Mommy to clean up, because then she get's backaches and then Daddy has to take care of you for a day, and you remember what happened last time, right?"
Taylor's bright blue eyes widened. "Sorwy Mommy."
"Cool!" Nathanial cried, "I'm going to go tell Jonathan. My parents bet on me when I born…"
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The waiting room was becoming a familiar place. The same nurse, her face blemished with a few wrinkles, opened the door. "Mr. Valentine?"
I looked up at her. The second I saw her face, my heart leapt into my throat.
"I'm afraid I have some terrible news. Your wife, sir, she... didn't survive the childbirth." Her eyes stared sorrowfully at me, pitying and regretful.
Reeling, I gripped the arms of my chair, the only sure and solid thing in my life now. "Dead?" My voice broke as grief clawed at in my throat.
"I am sorry." Walking over, she placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"What of..." I could scarcely bring myself to breathe the words, so great was the terror within me.
For the first time, a small smile crossed her face. "A girl. She is alive and well."
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"…Yuffie Valentine was a brave woman. She saved the planet more times than we could count, and her courage and kindness will be eternally remembered. In times when light was consumed by darkness, she was always shining. If we remember what she has done for us, then her spirit shall live eternally."
I felt Taylor, who was standing next to me, push his hand into mine. His eyes found mine and I saw fear, sorrow and resolution mingled there.
Nathanial had distanced himself, head down. He was rocking back and forth, hugging himself. Skye shifted her position in my arms, head resting on my shoulder.
Tifa and Cloud stood on my other side. I could pick out the rest of Avalanche in the rest of the gathering. The rest of the congregation was Wutaian. Yuffie had told me that if she died, she wanted to be buried in her country.
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The man closed his eyes, focusing on the dying warmth on his face as Autumn claimed the landscape. He could feel her warmth in his mind. The dying heat from the sun became her arms wrapped lovingly around him. It's been one year, Yuffie. And I'm doing what you wanted. I'm living my life. He glanced down at Skye in his arms, his one-year-old little girl. The little girl looked more like her mother than she would ever know.
She was his little Yuffie.
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el fin
Yup. This Drabbletine is in honor of my 2000th hit, and it was ABSOLUTELY not planned at all. xD It just popped out.
If you notice any mistakes, please tell me.
Did you notice the little insert from a previous drabble? Whoever can find it (not difficult xD) gets the next chapter dedicated to them. Not much of a prize, but it's not much of a challenge, so it fit.
I'm not going to bother telling you guys to review. x3 I realized that I never really read the part when the author says, "read and review, please!" So what will make you guys read it? Haha! Found the break in the circut. Oh well, I'll stop my insanity.
thankies
-skia
EDIT: 5.18.11: Wow. Guys. Come on. This isn't really bad. Just 'cause it's short and sad and kind of cliched, I reeeally like the actual writing. I'm kind of proud of myself. Am I crazy?