Okay, I'm back! :D Life is good. Just a heads up, this is unbetaed. I sent this chapter to my beta, but then I realize I sent her the wrong one. I have two different versions of this on my computer, and one is just a crude outline like rough draft, so I decided I'd send the correct one to her, but then I realized I'm too impatient to care enough to get it betaed. So, here it is!
I'm sorry, VervainGirl, I put you through hell with my story, don't I? But you're still awesome.
Note: Yes, I used the Highwind as transportation, and yes, I'm aware that it doesn't really exist after the first game, I think, but from what I heard - no one really knows what happened to it {Cue creepy music ;) } So, I'm using my creative lisence and saying to hell with it! The Highwind is a mode of transportation in this fic.
Y'all, tell me what you really think of this story. I'm starting to get doubts the longer I write it. In a couple of chapters, it starts to get a little spiritual/supernatural with the Lifestream - is that too out there? Hmm...
Valkera: In regards to MWV review, I've been good, thanks :) And an anime convention? I've always wanted to go to one! *Squeal!
Disclaimer: Well, I've tried and tried, but I still don't own any rights to FFVII.
Yuffie woke in her bed, disoriented and confused. She sat up slowly, finding herself to be alone and the curtains to be drawn. Her pillow felt damp with sweat, and she was in desperate want of a shower. She tilted her head, her eyes searching for Vincent.
"Vinnie?" Yuffie called out hoarsely, receiving only an echo. She stretched, yawning and placing her feet on the icy flooring. As soon as her legs hit the ground, her knees gave way and she crumpled to the ground like an origami crane. She heard nimble footsteps and barely managed to gain the needed energy to raise her head from the ground and find a worried Vincent approaching her.
"Yuffie?" he inquired, kneeling by the ninja with concern in his crimson eyes. He gingerly slid his hand underneath her head and lifted her up, placing her back on the bed with care.
"Wh-when did we get home?" Yuffie asked, her words slurred in exhaustion and her eyes droopy. Vincent raised an eyebrow.
"You don't remember? Yuffie, we came home a week ago."
Yuffie's lips pulled into a frown. A week ago? All she remembered was the Highwind. "Huh?"
Vincent felt Yuffie's pale forehead for fever, but found none. Panic rose within him at her condition. "Yuffie, we came back to Nibelheim a week ago. You've been sick for three days, but you were only vomiting and having dizzy spells."
Yuffie shook her head, her sweaty hair sticking to her forehead. "I… I don't remember. All I recall is going to sleep on the Highwind, and then waking up here."
Vincent positioned a pillow behind Yuffie's head to prop her up and handed her a glass of water that had been sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. He held it to her lips and helped her to take a sip, then urged her to lie down. Feeling troubled by her illness, his brow furrowed and his lips were but a taut line. How had her condition declined so quickly? He'd taken good care of her.
"Yuffie, sleep. I will contact Cloud and Tifa."
Yuffie mumbled, "Okay," but her words died on her lips and her eyes shut quickly, the ninja falling into deep sleep in an instant. Vincent felt her forehead and cheeks again, his apprehension growing. He placed a tentative kiss to her pale parted lips and stood, tucking her in with a thin sheet. Her chest moved faintly as she slept.
"Cloud?" Vincent asked into his PHS after dialing his number rapidly.
"Hey, Vincent. It's been awhile."
"Yes," Vincent agreed, his voice slightly shaky, though he veiled the quiver and forced his tone to remain strong. "…I fear there is something wrong with Yuffie."
"Wrong how?" Cloud inquired, his voice fretful.
"Yuffie's been sick for the past three days, and she seems to be growing worse. She woke up and collapsed on the floor. Her memory's lapsed, also."
"Odd," Cloud stated. "Is she running a fever?"
Vincent shook his head, and then realized that Cloud could not see that. "She exhibits no outward signs of illness, aside from extreme fatigue, vomiting, and now forgetfulness. I've done what I can to keep her state from declining."
"I'll tell Tifa, she'll probably want to see Yuffie," Cloud responded, a hint of question in his voice. "Call me again if things worsen."
"Yes. Goodbye, Cloud."
"Bye, Vince."
Vincent hung up and sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool wall. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at Yuffie's sleeping form, his heart constricting at her weak looking body.
What plagues Yuffie? Vincent wondered, pacing the length of the bedroom. He listened to her light breathing, paying apt attention to the sounds she made, as he'd often worry that she had stopped breathing altogether. Seeing Yuffie so weak and frail frightened him.
It was almost as frightening as when he'd discovered Yuffie's battered form after receiving a particularly harsh beating from Hasonsuru, that night he'd appeared to her after his long absence - that night she had confessed that he had a daughter. Vincent never imagined himself as a father, but hearing the admission from his ninja knocked the breath out of his lungs and left him reeling; the thought of giving life to another human being had nearly made him recoil in disgust. Though he'd never admit it, he silently questioned if the child looked like a demon, purple skin like Chaos and glowing yellow eyes that could make a grown man run in fear.
When he returned the morning after destroying the bastard that had harmed Yuffie, he dreaded seeing the child he'd spawned. Yuffie raced down the stairs with the bundle in her arms, and he couldn't help but cringe at the baby's wailing. Even so, he ached to hold his daughter and prayed that he had brought something innocent into the world and wholly unlike the demons that once resided within his tainted soul.
And she was beautiful. The moment his arms encased her little body, her sobbing ceased. Valencia Rimmy sported brilliant crimson eyes to match his own and a dazzling smile to match Yuffie's. He blinked in wonder at his daughter, knowing that his creation was not evil, but entirely pure and perfect. Holding the little angel in his arms, Vincent turned his head and gazed into Yuffie's brown eyes, and pictured a future that only days before he had believed out of his reach and idealistic.
A sudden knock at the front door downstairs caught the gunslinger's attention, and he made his way to the entry hall. He opened the door, surprised to find no one there, only the nondescript sight of Nibelheim beyond the threshold.
"Teenagers," Vincent muttered, shaking his head. He shut the door, but heard a soft sound behind it. Vincent sighed and opened the door again, finding nothing to be there once more. "…"
Glancing down to locate the source of the noise, Vincent discovered a baby doll. He frowned and crouched down, carefully picking up the toy in his claw. It let out a wailing noise and cried. He turned the doll over and inspected the back, finding a speaker at the base of the neck. The doll appeared to be made of a soft plastic, the apricot coloring scuffed in multiple places. He raised an eyebrow.
Shutting the door, Vincent made his way to the sitting room and rested in the chair by the fireplace. He examined the doll, wondering who had dropped it off, and why? It was quite an odd thing for someone to do - leaving a baby doll on his and Yuffie's doorstep, for what? Turning it over, Vincent immediately cringed and jumped up from his seat.
"This… doll has red eyes." He dropped the plaything like it carried the bubonic plague, taking a wide step back. "Who would have the gall to pull a stunt like this?"
He glanced at the window, seeing his own crimson eyes reflected in the glass pane, a disturbing image in its own right. The gunslinger growled, kicking the baby doll away from him. "Who would make light of our daughter's death?"
Contemptuously, Vincent snatched the doll up and stormed off to the kitchen, throwing the lid of the trash can open and shoving the damned thing inside. After a moment, he retrieved the doll, thinking better of his actions. He examined the toy closer, inspecting it for bugs or speakers. He scrutinized the entire thing, coming up empty. He did, however, find a note sticking out of the baby's diaper.
Baby Valencia Rimmy Kisaragi-Valentine
Returned to the Lifestream at three months old.
Father: Vincent Valentine, formerly of the Turks
Mother: Lady Yuffie Kisaragi
The Single Red Rose, born of the Single White Rose, the harbinger of the Great Return – the manifestation of hope. Return to the Lifestream to return to Gaia, to return to the cosmos. The exiled of the Planet, the exiled of the Lifestream. The liaison of Purgatory doth the Lifestream take, to end all and begin all. When the Rose blooms, so shall the descent into Hell begin. Child of the union of Chaos' host and the Lady Wutai, the Single White Rose– light of the future, contained within the single planet.
"What in the hell?" Vincent uttered, rereading the message. The gunslinger repressed a chill that threatened to run down his spine, reading the message aloud. Setting the doll down, he flipped the crinkled piece of paper over, searching the back for text. Nothing seemed to have been written there.
"Where did this come from?" Vincent shook his head, sliding the paper into his pocket. The entire scheme reeked of bad plot from some cheap, two star movie that he might have seen while he was a Turk. A note with a cryptic message, how utterly original.
He glanced at the stairs, then back at the door. After checking to make sure he had locked it, Vincent climbed the staircase and entered his bedroom, watching Yuffie as she slept soundly. He caressed her cheek, letting his hand linger on her soft skin.
"Vinnie?" Yuffie murmured, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She sat up slowly, placing her hand over Vincent's to keep it where it rested on her warm cheek. "Hey."
"Hello," Vincent replied, sitting beside her on the bed. He was tempted to show her the message but thought better of it, reluctant to put too much stress on her already enfeebled body. Instead, he stroked her hair and pushed all thoughts of the note and the doll out of his mind to focus on the ninja as she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head on his firm chest. He pulled her close, encircling her waist in his arms gently. He kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair down.
"Are you feeling better?" Vincent asked, entwining their hands. Yuffie nodded and snuggled further into his arms, placing a dizzying kiss to his neck. Vincent's pulse quickened hungrily as she trailed more fierce kisses across his collarbone, her lips moist and soft on his chilled skin. He pushed the ninja back into the soft pillows, hovering over her gently and admiring her almost bare body. Vincent smoothed the hair out of her smoldering eyes, pressing heated kisses to her jaw line and making his way across her creamy shoulders. Stretching backwards, Yuffie moaned slightly at the feel of his warm lips against her blazing skin, reveling in the way the ends of his onyx hair brushed her over-sensitized chest. Pulling back, Vincent gazed into her hooded chocolate eyes, feeling his blood burn at the voluptuous gleam that they possessed.
"Little Rose…," he hissed.
The night air was still, but the sound of thunder in the distance indicated the coming of rain. Yuffie mumbled to herself something pertaining to materia and tonberries, rolling over onto her stomach and shifting her weight. Her chest rose lightly as she slept, and Vincent pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder, rising from the bed to search for his shirt. He gave up trying to find it after a minute of futile hunting and pulled on a new one, making his way to the kitchen. The gunslinger pulled out a can of coffee grounds from over the cabinet and filled a pot with water, scooping the grounds into a filter and preparing a pot of the bitter liquid. While waiting, Vincent glanced out the window, finding dark grey clouds littering the sky and little streaks of blinding light illuminating the distance.
The smell of coffee wafted up the stairs, rousing Yuffie from her sleep. She smiled softly to herself as she slid from the bed and made her way down the stairs, careful not to trip.
She slipped into the kitchen silently, wrapping her arms around Vincent's waist from behind and whispering, "Boo!"
Vincent smiled and pulled the ninja around to stand between his legs. The shirt she sported appeared too long for her, the black sleeves having been pushed up to her elbows, and the hem falling mid-thigh. Vincent raised an eyebrow and gave her a playfully disappointed look. "That is my shirt, Yuffie."
Yuffie giggled. "Yeah, and that was your bed. And it was your idea - okay, I started it."
The tone in her sultry voice brought a devilish smirk to Vincent's lips. The gunslinger brushed his mouth across Yuffie's, replying, "Indeed." The air between them sparked at his one word response, and their eyes were suddenly locked with tension as each waited for the other to make the next move.
Unable to resist any longer, Vincent scooped Yuffie up and set her on the cold counter, pushing the shirt up to her hips as his claw dug into her thigh pleasingly, and the pain seemed to fuel her fire. Their lips met wildly, clashing together in a passion driven frenzy. The gunslinger climbed onto the countertop and covered the ninja's petite body with his large frame as he attacked her skin with a barrage of bites, and after, smoothed the pain away with sweet kisses. Just as Vincent spread Yuffie's legs tantalizingly and settled between them, earning a delicious moan from his love, the coffee pot blared its high-pitched beep, destroying the mood and breaking the tension.
Smirking, Yuffie smoothed Vincent's hair from his sweaty face and kissed his nose. "Coffee?" she asked, shrugging. He nodded - albeit unsatisfied – and pulled the shirt back down to avoid temptation. He slid off the counter and the cabinet opened as he proceeded to search for a mug and pull down two, filling them with the rich liquid. He held one out to Yuffie, and she set it aside, skipping to the refrigerator to get cream and sugar.
As Yuffie fixed her coffee up with saccharine substances, she inquired, "Is something wrong, Vinnie, cause you usually don't get all… well, irresistible, unless something's wrong – I'm not complaining or anything! I just wanted to make sure you're feelin' Vincent-y and all. Leviathan forbid you have a bad day. We wouldn't want another Omega in the form of SuperVincent."
Vincent glanced up from his coffee, tilting his head. "… There's… nothing wrong, Yuffie."
The ninja deadpanned, but allowed the conversation to drop. She sat beside Vincent at the table, guzzling her coffee down while Vincent took little sips of the scalding liquid. After a moment, she set the empty cup aside and leaned forward. "Is it because I got sick?"
Vincent sighed. "That is... part of it. I won't concern you with what you do not need to be concerned with, in response to your inevitable question."
Yuffie huffed, pouting at him from across the table. She watched his crimson eyes, examining his face. "Vinnie, can we take a vacation?"
"A vacation, Yuffie? That is ludicrous. I am not even sure that you are over this illness, whether you feel that way or not."
She leaned her head on her palm, sighing. "That's exactly why we should leave! It might be good for us, you know? Go to Costa del Sol and get some fresh air!" She pouted at him, her bottom lip pushed past the top in a way she knew he couldn't resist.
The idea bounced around in Vincent's mind for a while as he contemplated the scenario. A moment later, he consented, "Alright, we will take a trip to Costa del Sol. Would you like me to invite the others?"
Yuffie smirked and twisted a lock of brown hair around her finger before purring,"I dunno, Vinnie, I kinda like the idea of just you and me, alone in a villa, or on our own private little stretch of beach, the soft sand between our toes, just the two of us, with no one else around and the sun beating down on us, making us sweat until we can't stand to keep our clothes on..."
Vincent swallowed thickly. "Yes, I believe that Tifa and Cloud would most likely wish to accompany us. They are in need of a treat, too."
Pouting, Yuffie shrugged. "Party-pooper."
Leaning across the table, Vincent pressed a soft kiss to Yuffie's lips in appeasement and then stood, picking up her coffee cup and rinsing it out in the sink. He turned to find Yuffie staring blankly at the table, a unusual look on her face.
"Yuffie?" Vincent called, his eyes widening as she threw a hand to her mouth and took off to the bathroom at the speed only a ninja could accomplish. He raced after her, standing behind her as she retched into the toilet, her knuckles gripping the bowl so tightly they blanched. Her shoulders heaved as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the commode. When the worst was over, Yuffie took several deep breaths and attempted to compose herself. Vincent rubbed her back and tugged her into his arms, pressing her head to his shoulder.
In complete and encompassing worry, Vincent stated, "You are not well, Yuffie."
Frowning, the ninja shook her head, insisting, "No, I'm perfectly fine. This is… this is different."
"How so?" Vincent inquired, helping Yuffie to her feet and retrieving a washcloth to wipe her face. She allowed him to caress her with the rag while she mulled a thought over, the pensive look on her face worrying him.
"I think… nah, it's nothing."
The gunslinger raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. "You have always been motion sick, do you attribute it to that?"
Nodding, Yuffie answered, "Yeah, I think all of the stress got to me, especially when we were riding the Highwind. I think it just cumulated until my body gave out, and I'm just feeling the effects."
While Yuffie explained, Vincent formulated his own ideas but kept them to himself. After she brushed her teeth, he led her out of the bathroom and into the sitting room. Fixing up a fire, he observed his ninja, watching her stretch out on the couch, her cat-like body enticing to his eyes. She smiled and charmed him over with her finger. The gunslinger obeyed without a second thought.
Vincent reclined on the settee, pulling Yuffie up to straddle his stomach. She ran her fingers up his chest and knotted her fists in his hair, licking her lips. With a breathy sigh, she panted, "Vincent…"
Yuffie lowered her mouth to his, pressing into him heatedly. He traced his hands up her supple stomach, caressed her arms, and yanked her hair to expose her neck. Yuffie cried out as he latched his lips to her throat, nipping at the skin. Running a finger down the length of his nose, she sighed softly at the feel of his teeth grazing her flesh.
"Vincent," Yuffie moaned, unable to stand his tormenting her body. He chuckled at her, and she rose up slightly and kissed him harder in retribution, her fingers fumbling to pull his shirt off. Gasping, a broken moan escaped her lips as Vincent's hand dipped to rub at the small of her back, and she shook as she finally managed to get the fabric off of his shoulders, moving to his pants hastily. Her eyes narrowed as she grazed a piece of paper sticking out of his pants pocket. She pulled at it, holding it in front of her eyes to squint at the print.
"What is this!?" Yuffie demanded, climbing off of Vincent and glaring at him, the slip of paper extended in the air as she addressed the gunslinger. "Damn you, Vincent! What the hell is this?"
The gunslinger watched her reread the slip of paper and replied, "I'm not sure. Someone… left it on our doorstep this morning, along with a baby doll."
"And you didn't think to TELL ME!?" Yuffie exclaimed, her voice rising with offense. "What!? Do I not deserve to know!?"
"I didn't want to trouble you, not in the condition you're in," Vincent defended, standing up and returning the glare just as heatedly while he pulled his shirt back on. He was clearly not getting any now.
"Oh, but you could screw me in my condition, right!?"
Vincent growled and raked a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting by the second. "Yuffie Kisaragi, I did not 'screw' you. I made love to you – and yes! There is a difference!"
Yuffie scoffed at him. "I don't care what you did, Valentine; you effing didn't tell me that someone left a note at the door concerning my daughter!"
"She was my daughter, too!" Vincent roared in exasperation. "You infuriate me, Yuffie Kisaragi, running around, acting like I never cared! I do care, damn it! Whether I show it or not - and you and I both know that I can't show it. I had to be strong – I needed to be strong for you! I loved Valencia, but you are a piece of me, also! And I am not about to let you sink into despair and lose my child and my love!"
Yuffie broke into tears, pushing Vincent away from her while shutting herself off from all emotion. She couldn't take the agony in his voice, couldn't take the truth that she was bringing him pain by rejecting him further. She needed to feel nothing, to be numb, but he was making that impossible. Yuffie stumbled to the stairs and ran to nursery, locking herself in it, and locking the gunslinger out, just as she had locked him out of her heart.
Vincent cried out in fury, hurling a vase at the wall and watching as it exploded fiercely, raining shards of glass on the floor. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to still his pounding heart as liquid aggravation coursed through his veins. Couldn't she see that he needed her more than oxygen? Couldn't she see that he would crumble to pieces if she wasn't there to hold him up? His heart felt much like the vase looked: shattered and broken.
"Damn it, Yuffie." Vincent sighed, shaking his head. He brushed his hand across the seat of his pants, searching for an object he knew was hidden there. He pulled it out and examined the little velvet black box, opening it delicately.
A simple golden band held a vibrant ruby, which shimmered as flecks of light bounced off of it while it rested between the satin cushions. Vincent fingered the engagement ring, his eyes forlorn. "Little Rose, you make this harder than it has to be."
He closed the lid and stuffed the box back into his pocket, subsequently, stuffing away the dejected emotions with it. Turning to face the window, Vincent discovered that the sky had blackened considerably, and the storm clouds had moved in. Lightning flashed outside the window, and Vincent muttered, "Fitting weather."
The gunslinger collapsed on the settee, relieved to finally calm down and tame his storm of emotions. But unfortunately, there was a knock at the door and he stood up again, making his way to the entry hall. He opened the door, expecting to find nothing as he had earlier, but Tifa stood smiling warmly at the man, hugging herself in attempt to ward off the chill. She was dripping wet from the rain, her teeth chattering.
"Hi, Vincent!" Tifa greeted, her wine eyes bright as she smiled at him.
"Tifa. Come in, please," Vincent implored, stepping aside. The barmaid entered, shrugging off her soaked jacket to hang on the coatrack.
"I'll get you some towels, and perhaps Yuffie has something you can wear." Vincent made his way to the bathroom and retrieved several linen cloths, then moved on to his room, searching through Yuffie's clothes to find something suitable for the older woman.
Vincent returned and handed the items to the drenched Tifa, whom took them gratefully. "Thank you, Vincent. Is Yuffie in your room?"
Vincent glanced in the direction of the stairs jadedly and corrected, "Nursery… We are still fighting."
Tifa nodded and smiled sympathetically. "It will work out, Vincent, I'm sure of it." The barmaid wrapped her hair in another towel and allowed Vincent to steer her to the bathroom, leaving her to change into dry clothes. When she opened the door again, he took her wet garments and dropped them in a hamper to dry later.
"You are welcome to stay as long as you'd like," Vincent offered, fixing up a spare room for her using.
"Thanks, Vincent. Can I see Yuffie?"
"You can try." The gunslinger finished making the bed and followed Tifa to the pink-painted door, keeping a safe distance from the nursery in the event Yuffie lost her temper, as she was wont to do.
Tifa knocked lightly on Yuffie's door and listened for the ninja. She heard some shuffling, and then, "Go to effing hell, Vincent!" Tifa flinched, and Vincent remained resigned.
Meekly, Tifa corrected, "Yuff, it's me, not Vincent."
The door opened in a flash and Yuffie swallowed Tifa into a hug, her eyes red but her grin enormous. "Teef! Hi!"
Tifa laughed, "Hello, Yuffie! How are you feeling – Vincent said you were sick?"
In a second, happy-Yuffie morphed into spiteful-Yuffie as she immediately darkened at the mention of the gunslinger's name, and he took a cautious step back. "I am sick - sick of him."
Vincent inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and trying to prevent the inevitable misery that scratched at the surface of his heart. He didn't understand how something so seemingly inconsequential could tear straight through his heart. He abhorred the thought of bringing her pain, yet he seemed to be adept at it. Silently, he turned and walked away, feeling his heart ache painfully. The gunslinger stalked to his room and closed the door behind him, leaning heavily on it. He could hear the women talking from behind it, but they sounded like they were speaking through water.
"Aerith," Vincent whispered. "I am at a loss. Tell me, how do I mend this?"
There was no answer, no calming breeze, no strange dream. Distraught, Vincent sat on his bed, covering his face with his hands, but not crying.
Never crying.
Like any father, Vincent mourned the loss of his daughter, whether Yuffie believed that or not. His dreams plagued him, as they were always images of a girl who looked so much like him, yet the mirror image of his ninja, dressed in a white gown, little flowers in her hair. Sometimes, a teen in a graduation gown, or a prom dress, or just a young girl greeting him on Father's Day would prevent him from shutting his eyes as the visions haunted his nights and kept him restlessly turning in his sleep. But no, he'd never get to experience the wonder of being a father.
I'll never hear her first word, or praise her for her first 'A', or threaten her first boyfriend, or walk her down the aisle. I'll never… "I'll never be her father."
"…Vinnie?"
Vincent glanced up, seeing Yuffie stand at his door guiltily. She rubbed her arm, her eyes not meeting his.
"Yes, Yuffie?" Vincent replied, his voice flat.
"I'm sorry," Yuffie whispered; a hint of sadness crept into her voice. Vincent rose stiffly from the bed and brushed past her, leaving her in the doorway.
She turned to watch him walk away, her heart breaking when he stated brusquely, "I'm going for a walk."
"It's raining," the kunoichi pleaded, following him to the stairs at hurried pace.
"I will be back within the hour."
He disappeared down the staircase, and Yuffie heard the front door open, the sound of pounding raindrops beating on the ground and thunder rumbling echoing through the mansion.
The door slammed shut.
Tifa watched Yuffie, a sad but reassuring smile on her face. "Guess that didn't go so well."
Yuffie shook her head, shrugging. "No, I guess not... Tifa can I tell you something?"
Tifa nodded, her face supportive and caring as she placed a hand on Yuffie's shoulder. "Anything."
Yuffie's face twisted, and she seemed to be fighting with herself, reluctant to admit her next statement. It took her a while to finally confess, "I think… I think that Vincent and I are… over."
Tifa's eyes widened, and she retracted her hand, placing it at her gaping mouth. "Don't say that, Yuffie Kisaragi! Vincent loves you, truly he does! I can tell he does, with all of his heart!"
Yuffie scowled, crossing her arms and glaring at the barmaid. "Well, maybe I don't want him! Maybe I want my baby back. I don't want to sleep by him. I want to sleep in the nursery with my daughter in my arms. I don't want his love, I want my child's. I'm sick of his pity and his devotion and his constant trying to make every damn thing better! I hate it, Tifa – I hate him!"
"Yuffie's, it's only been two weeks since her death! You can't make impulsive decisions like that!" Tifa demanded, throwing her fists down by her side and glowering at the ninja's foolishness.
"Like hell I can't!" Yuffie cried. "I hate him, Tifa! If he'd only been there when Rimmy died, then maybe things would be different! I don't - no, I can't love Vincent anymore!"
The sound of metal clicking on the floor froze Yuffie's heart. She spun around, her eyes wide in abject horror at the sight before her. Vincent took a careful step back, his eyes projecting anguish, but his face a mask of expressionlessness.
Yuffie felt her stomach turn. Those expressive red eyes cut her to the core.
"H-how long have you been standing there? Vincent, I thought you had-"
"I came back... I didn't want to walk away from you like that. But now… Yuffie, do you really mean... You do not love-" Vincent took a deep breath, composing himself before continuing, "I'll be going now."
Vincent turned around and retreated, his eyes hardened. Yuffie ran after him, her mouth unable to form words though she tried. She couldn't bring herself to beg him to stay, for her tongue was limp against her teeth and her throat dry even as her mind raced to conjure even the simplest, 'Don't leave!'
And the door shut once more. This time, the slam that resounded through the halls rang with finality.
The ninja dropped to her knees, still reeling in shock. "What have I done?"
Tifa looked on in pity, feeling sorry for the gunslinger and the ninja. Yuffie was so despaired by her daughter's death that she couldn't move on, and Vincent was caught, torn between not being loved and being needed by Yuffie. Tifa could tell he was breaking.
"Yuffie, let him go. You… aren't what he needs right now."
Yuffie snapped her head at Tifa. "How can you say that!?"
Tifa held her hands palm up, explaining, "You're leading him on, letting him think that he owns your heart. You need time to consider things, to reevaluate yourself. Give yourself some time to grieve, and when you are better, maybe you'll be ready to accept his love and offer your own. For now, Yuffie, let him go. Your pushing him away and yanking him back is breaking his heart, Yuffie! He needs someone who can love him, and you aren't capable of that at the moment, not until you can heal from Rimmy's death."
"Get out, get out!" Yuffie howled, her eyes angry. How could Tifa be against her!? She pushed the barmaid toward the door, enraged at her betrayal. "Get out!"
Tifa nodded and left, not saying another word, for she understood how her friend would feel hurt by her previous words, though they needed to be said. Yuffie gasped for air, feeling as if she was suffocating. "I… Vincent… I'm so confused! Leviathan, I need your help! Help me understand what I want, what I'm feeling!"
The ninja placed a hand to her heart, her eyes shut tightly. "I'm so lost. I need Vincent, but I can't stand him. I love having him here, but he reminds me too much of her. Leviathan, don't let me break his heart – I can't be Lucrecia. I cannot be his Lucrecia. I cannot hurt him the way she did, please."
Vincent approached Cid as he stood on the Highwind bridge, the pilot grim as he assessed the gunslinger.
"You leavin' the ninja brat again?" Cid threatened, his voice gruff as he snuffed out a cigarette. His blue eyes reflected the promise that he would sock it to Vincent's ass if he dared to hurt the ninja again.
Vincent sighed and glared at his feet, muttering, "She does not love me, Highwind-"
"You don't get to decide that, asshole!" Cid cried, cutting the gunslinger off. He blinked in astonishment as Vincent merely shrugged and continued inspecting his shoes. He at least expected a Vincent-glare.
"I didn't."
Yuffie did, Vincent thought. Yuffie said it herself – she does not want me, nor love me, and, as far as I can tell, it detests her to even look me in the eye. I am leaving for her sake, and, for my own. The finality crushed Vincent's heart as the realization set in. He and Yuffie really were over. She did not love him. He could feel the little black box in his pocket, weighing down his heart as much as it weighed down his pocket. Not my Yuffie anymore.
Cid shook his head. "Damn, Vince, I'm sorry. Dang brat can't make her mind up. Stupid women, always toying with their men."
Vincent looked away, his eyes stern. "I do not blame her. She needs time to heal, and I'm only making things more arduous for her."
Cid took to the control station, Vincent following him. The pilot gripped the steer and glanced at Vincent, deciding it was time for a subject change. Majorly.
"Would now be an inappropriate time to tell ya Sher's got a bun in the oven?"
Vincent found himself smirking. "Highly inappropriate, Highwind, but when has that ever stopped you?"
The men chuckled, glad to shift their topics to pleasantries and not all of the problems that seemed to follow Vincent. It wasn't as if he went looking for trouble, he was just a lodestone for depression, screwed-up misfortunes, and bad romances.
"How far along is she?" Vincent asked, cocking his head. He inwardly cursed himself in shame for feeling an almost bitter resentment that the pilot's wife was with child. He knew he should be happy for their blessing, but he couldn't help but envy Cid for having the chance to be a father and not being cheated of a wonderful life as the gunslinger had.
Barking a laugh, Cid replied, "I dunno, 'bout three months. Hormones are sure actin' up, though! I'd like to strangle the woman sometimes!"
"You want to strangle her most of the time, Highwind."
"Touché."
Okay, I've tried to really up the emotion. How's it working? I hope you guys are enjoying it! I've written a lot so far, and I really think it's going to be better than the first. When rereading B.o.I., and then reading over this, I noticed that my writing has improved, I think. What do you think?
Please, please, please review! :} Thanks for reading!