Reason to Live

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 6

It was six days later and, without so much as asking my permission, or opinion, Yuffie had moved into the house with me. She left one afternoon and returned the next morning with a bag of her clothes and a few personal items and that was the end of it. It bothered her when I went to the basement – I could give an educated guess as to why – so I made my room the one across the hall from hers. It turned out to be more of a challenge to sleep in a bed than I'd thought possible.

I wasn't sure the last time I'd slept in an actual bed, aside from the few nights of the journey with Cloud that had allowed us a safe, dry night in an inn. Those were few and far between, but the sounds of the night and the wilderness put to rest my inner demons. The call of the darkness eased my consciousness into sleep, despite the fact that my body didn't need much of it to keep itself going. It was an odd feeling knowing that there was no lid atop, no coffin bottom beneath.

It should have been a relief.

Perhaps later it would be.

She was an odd thing when she became serious, Yuffie. She and I cleaned out the kitchen cupboards and scrubbed the fridge until it shone like materia when you opened them. We filled the shelves and pantry with anything and everything she fancied. I'm not sure where she got the money to pay for it all, but she managed to come home with the food in bags so I figured she hadn't stolen it.

It was another month after that in which she began to settle down (and by settle down I mean slowly ease into the somewhat irritating, hyperactive kleptomaniac she was before).

Settlers, from who knows where, began moving into the town since Shinra has ceased usage of the reactor in the mountain and monsters venturing into town became a rare oddity. One family in particular purchased some land right outside the town and began construction on a general store of sorts, much to Yuffie's excitement.

I wasn't one for company, and more people in the town meant more people for me to avoid. There were already abundant rumors floating around town about the few times I'd been seen on the streets, and Yuffie always loved to tell me about any new ones when she came home from the market.

Her favorite was that I was a vampire, and she was the poor, abducted maiden kept under mind control. Imaginative, these people.

She was a reader, which surprised me at first. It wasn't as though I thought her uneducated or dull. Reading is often something you sit still to do, and sitting still was something I hardly saw Yuffie do. Though the lack of television was something I was sure to hear complaints about later, it wasn't much of a problem to begin with. She would cook to amuse herself – simple things like cookies or cakes - or draw (another talent I wasn't aware of her possessing).

She coated the walls of the room she commandeered as her own in quotes from her favorite comedians. There were a few philosophers in there somewhere, spouting beautiful ideas about how you should always look to the path ahead, and feeling noble because we are made of the same stuff as stars, but it was mostly hidden behind throes of expletives that were the end of a rather tasteless joke.

It was dusk, and I could hear her restlessness. She paced the hallway.

"Yuffie."

She didn't reply vocally, but I could feel her eyes on me in reply.

"Stop that."

I heard her snort. "I'm bored." She didn't have to announce it; I could easily read it.

"Read a book."

"I don't have any new ones."

I turned the book I was previously engrossed in and laid it flat against my knee. Leaning forward in my chair, I sighed. "Then go get a new one in town."

She huffed at this idea. "I don't want to go into town."

I was glad the hair in my face hid the rolling of my eyes.

"If I go into town and get you a new book, will you stop pacing?"

Deliberation was a strange expression when it was plastered to Yuffie's face. Deliberating isn't something Yuffie did; she was more impulsive than a wild chocobo.

She shrugged her shoulders at long last. "I'll stop pacing if you get me a good book."

I took a deep breath to stop the urge of sighing. "Your definition of good?"

"I want lots of action. Maybe some character death. A little romance – but not too much – and the main character has to have a cool name."

Scrunching my eyes together, I met her gaze. I was thinking she'd answer with "sci-fi" or something just as odd. Her response was a shrug. "If it's crap, I'm just going to annoy you more with my pacing." Well, that was an argument I wasn't going to take further. I sat my book down on the couch next to where I'd been previously enjoying it and stood.

I don't think I'd ever get used to the stares that were constantly focused on me while I ventured in public. Even out of my leather garments and cape I suppose I was still slightly formidable-looking. I was taller than most people in the town – a strange trait for someone with so much Wutain blood in them as I – and I'm sure my tangle of long, black hair didn't help in making my demeanor look any less scary.

The small corner store near the outskirts of town had a desolate selection of books, so I bought three that I hoped would appease the restless ninja who had invaded my home. None of them were what she was looking for, but the small selection meant less of a chance for me to find any book to satisfy her. I paid the shopkeep, who, when I approached the counter had abruptly straightened and looked rather frightened. I left, declining the offer for a bag.

She was still pacing the hallway when I returned. Somehow, I knew she would be. Stubborn girl. I handed over the books, returning to the seat I'd occupied before she'd sent me on her silly errand. The face she made as she read the back of the books was that of disgust. Undeterred, I picked up my own book and returned to reading.

"These books suck, Valentine. You have crappy taste."

I ignored her attitude. "What was I supposed to do, Yuffie? The selection is poor; this is a backwater town. If you want good literature, take a trip to Rocket Town and visit a real bookstore."

She snatched my book from my grasp before I realized what she was doing. Her smile was playful, and somewhat demeaning. I had never been one for playing games. I leaned against the back of the seat and closed my eyes, bowing my neck to rest of my chin.

The scoffing noise she made amused me, if only slightly. "Vincent, I'm bored!"

"I'm not your babysitter, Yuffie, and you are not a child. You're old enough to entertain yourself."

"Oh, you're no fun! No damn fun at all!"

"Fun isn't something I'm accustomed to, if you hadn't noticed." My eyes remained closed.

She was silent for a moment. "Either that was a joke, or you're being a dick."

I couldn't help the small smile that twisted my lips at the corners. Hearing her swear wasn't novel – in fact, it was something I was rather used to – it was simply her choosing to call me the most mundane, unimaginative of insults that made any situation somewhat funny.

"Oh, laughing now, are you? Fine, I'll go outside. At least then I'll be away from you and your dickishness."

Dickishness? Well, there was a word I wasn't aware was part of any language.

I heard my book fall to the floor as she tossed it over her shoulder and headed for the kitchen. The backdoor slammed with a hard thump.

I sighed peacefully to myself, thankful that she'd stopped her damned pacing.

Three hours later, and well into the night, I heard her stumble through the back door. I heard her footsteps as she made her way toward where I sat; I hadn't bothered moving since she'd left me. In fact, I had been lighting dozing before she'd ventured back through the kitchen door.

I opened one of my eyes to look at her, aware of her standing in front of me.

Her hands on her hips, dirt smudged on her face, knees, and elbows, she smiled at me. The grin she wore was devious.

"What did you steal?"

She had the gall to look offended at my accusation. "I didn't steal anything."

"Fine. What are you planning on stealing?"

She huffed and stamped her foot, apparently becoming impatient with me. "I'm not gonna steal anything! I want you to guess what I found!"

I despised guessing games.

"I give up."

"The game doesn't work like that, Valentine!"

"I don't like the rules of this game, then."

"Too bad- you have to play."

"Materia?"

The grin returned to her face.

"Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!" She thrust a hand at me, nearly jabbing me in the chest, and presented to me her newest possession. The green orb tried to shine underneath the layer of dirt and grime that had somehow accumulated around it.

"It looks like it has seen better days."

"Materia is materia!"

"Where did you find that, anyway?"

"Up by the mountain, where the town ends and the path starts."

I narrowed my eyes. "What were you doing up there? You know the mountain is still home to monsters."

"I climbed down a crater, traveled all around inside the crust of the earth, fought a crazy son-of-a-bitch who wanted to kill everything, no to mention the tentacle alien that was his mommy, and you're worried about me not being able to take care of a couple oversized bugs?"

"Dragons still roam around- you know that."

"I could kick their asses, too."

"I'm sure you could."

She didn't hear the sarcasm I had laced my words with, thank Shiva.

"It was pretty well stuck into the dirt. It looked like someone had dropped it and then an entire caravan had trampled it into the ground."

I was thankful for the slight change in subject. "What is it?"

Her face turned wicked. "Fire."

Just what I needed- a kleptomaniac with a slight tendency of pyromania.

"And it's almost morphed, too- if I took down a couple of those bug-things, I bet I could get Fire 2 tomorrow!"

Well, at least she'd opted for tomorrow. I wouldn't have to worry about her traipsing around in the dark, looking for giant stick-bugs to fry. Instead, she'd do it in broad daylight.

"Hey, I'm hungry."

I raised an eyebrow, inclined to know just what she expected me to do about it.

"Come eat something with me. I want company."

"I thought you didn't like being around me and my dickishness."

Yuffie turned toward the kitchen, shoving the materia orb into her pocket. "Doesn't mean I want to eat alone."

I followed her, not completely certain as to why. Perhaps it was just morbid curiosity. Or, just perhaps, I was feeling a little lonely myself.

"What would you like to eat?" I opened the fridge and we both peeked inside.

"Nothing heavy; I'm tired and don't want a meal that's going to make me feel like crap."

"Pasta is light. We have beans as well. We could make a sort of pasta salad."

I heard the snort of laughter she tried to hide. "Yeah, sure. Okay mom."

I stood, looking down at her. "I can just as easily remove myself from this room and not cook you dinner, Miss Kisaragi. I offered to be nice."

She sobered up and shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Pasta salad sounds okay. With some orange juice, maybe."

"We don't have enough oranges for fresh." I pulled the egg noodles from their bag in the cupboard next to the fridge. "You'd have to make it from the frozen stuff we bought the other day."

She didn't say anything else, merely made her way to the freezer and pulled a can of frozen orange juice concentrate from the icy shelf. We both went about our own business, I rinsing the beans from the can I'd opened, and she stirring the lump of frozen citrus juice until it melted in the pitcher. After her juice was pronounced a success, she pulled half a cantaloupe from earlier in the day out of the fridge and sliced it up for us.

It wasn't long after that out small meal started to actually come together. Spiraled egg noodles, kidney, garbanzo, and green beans with fresh cut peppers; the whole concoction was topped with a drizzling of oil and vinegar, as well as a fresh grating of cheese.

Even if she had a weak spot for chocolate, Yuffie seemed to mostly eat healthy things. I suppose, when stopped to think about the matter, it made sense. She was on her own for a while, and lived off what she could. Either she developed a taste for healthier, fresh foods, or she ate so much junk and processed food on her own journeys that she didn't want to eat much more of it. Either way, I was happy- processed foods were harder on my system. Comes from having things in your body all have different tastes, you know; no one can agree anything.

Yuffie set the table while I mixed the salad. We ate mostly in silence, Yuffie loading her plate with seconds before I'd finished my first helping.

"I'm going to bed," she announced, unceremoniously tossing her dished into the sink. "I'll clean up in the morning."

I finished my plate, then placed my own dishes in the sink next to hers. I looked up as she scooted past the kitchen door toward her own room.

She had the books I'd bought for her held tight against her chest.