Reason to Live
By mihoyonagi
Chapter 9
It was mid November, six months after Yuffie had decided she was going to play the roll of my keeper.
The things that had once annoyed the hell out of me had turned into mundane, everyday occurrences. Thank Shiva that Yuffie was somewhat clean. Her room was messy, yes, but she never left food or dishes in there which meant one less thing I had to do. She hated making her bed, something I'm sure once drove her father insane, but for the most part she picked up after herself.
The only thing she always forgot were her socks. After she would take a shower, I'd use the bathroom and find her socks hanging over the towel bar, or some equally odd place in which socks weren't meant to be. I found one stuffed between the cushions of one of the sofas in the foyer once. When I asked her about it, she shrugged it off and claimed that socks made her feet claustrophobic.
I refrained from asking why the same effect didn't come about when she wore shoes.
For a long while it bothered me, having to pick up her discarded clothing. I told her once that I didn't want to see her socks in the bathroom again unless she was wearing them.
She started throwing them out into the hallway, something she did, I'm sure, just to piss me off.
Instead of growing angrier, despite the fact that deep inside I contemplated it, I bought a clothes hamper. I told Yuffie that if I saw her socks on the floor, instead of in the basket, I was going to cut them up, and throw them away.
She smiled at me, mischievously, keeping her mouth shut. I knew she was plotting.
Two days later I found her socks laid neatly atop the pillow in my bedroom.
I took a pair of scissors to them, shredding them to the point that no one would have been able to tell they were once socks, and placed the scraps in a neat pile atop her pillow.
I didn't find her socks on the floor again. Occasionally, I'd find one draped over the edge of the basket, as if she were tempting me, but so long as they were at least halfway in the hamper I didn't much care.
The afternoon was chilled, not quite bitter cold, but enough that you could easily see your breath if you dared a venture outside. Threatening clouds loomed overhead, but they only teased us with the prospect of a cold autumn rain. The wind that blew made the house echo with an eerie sound.
I found Yuffie in th kitchen, humming quietly to herself, fretting over a bowl of what looked to be cake mix. Egg shells littered the counter top, while flour decorated a portion of Yuffie's face.
"Making cake?" She jumped when I spoke, and I inwardly smiled. She may have been able to sneak up on me on the rare occasion, but I knew it was even rarer for her to hear me coming.
"Yes. Chocolate, with cream cheese frosting."
"Any occasion?"
She paused for a moment, then ignored the question and went back to pouring over the cookbook.
Uh-oh. Something was wrong. Yuffie stopped her humming.
"Is there something I can help you do?"
"Are you bribing me?"
"I want a piece of the cake when it's finished."
I knew she smiled, despite the fact that her back was to me.
"What's worth a piece of cake to you?"
"Half the dishes."
"All of the dishes."
"Half the dishes, and we can let them air dry."
"All of the dishes, and I'll let you lick one of the beaters."
"You drive a hard bargain, Kisaragi."
"Take it or leave it, Valentine."
"Deal." We shook hands, and while I walked next to the sink to prepare to clean the measuring cups that were already soaking, Yuffie went back to her recipe book.
She set the timer on the stove after depositing the cake in the oven, then handed me one of the batter-covered beaters when I was finished drying my hands.
"They were huge when I was little."
I shot her a sideways glance as I scraped batter from the beater onto my finer, licking it off. Yuffie skipped the middle man and simply licked the beater.
"What was?"
"Birthday parties."
A poignant silence fell over the kitchen. Yuffie licked at the beater again.
"When I was little, my birthday used to be a big thing in the city. Daughter of Godo, Princess of Wutai, flower of Leviathan; everyone wanted to gift me with precious things in hopes I would take favor on them when I grew old enough to rule. I was an only child, and despite being a girl I was still meant to rule one day."
I looked over on the counter and saw the box of candles lying by themselves.
Yuffie had baked herself a birthday cake.
"You were a princess?" It was a stupid thing to say, but my mind couldn't wrap around the rest of it.
"Still am, or at least the basic equivalent of one. Technically, even though my father and I don't talk much any longer, I'm still in line to rule since he hasn't denounced me as his heir."
"So you're going to rule Wutai someday?"
Yufie nearly chocked on the batter. "Hell no. When that old geezer dies the council will take over and I won't have to worry about that shit ever again. Let Gorki and Shake worry about it."
What a dirty little hypocrite.
"Yuffie Kisaragi, you gave me such shit when I-"
"Vincent, don't even start with me. Do you have any idea how much responsibility it would be to keep up with a city I turned my back on? The people wouldn't accept me as their ruler, and I know I wouldn't be able to win them over. I'm trying to live my life for me; I want to experience all that the world has to offer, not sit around on a cushion eating fancy meals and hearing about how well the rice fields are doing."
The silence between us was bitter.
"Women can't rule Wutai. Not offically. In order to let me rule, my father would have had to find a man for me to marry. The last time I visited Wutai before the little episode with Cloud and the gang, I was fourteen. I heard that my grandmother was ill, so I went to pay my respects. I loved gran a lot, but not enough to stay. My father tried to get me to stay. He tried to guilt me into it, saying that gran wanted to see me marry before she passed. I was fourteen, Vincent. Fourteen."
Another bitter silence.
"I still want glory to return to Wutai. I want to be proud of the city I call home. That's why I still scrounge what I have, and jack materia wherever I see it. I haven't given up on my home. I just can't let it rule me any more. I have to be my own person, with my own dreams and ideas."
I saw her point of view, clear as day, sprawled out before me. She was angry with me for trying to kill myself because she felt that life needed to be lived, that nothing should be done half-assed, and that you should enjoy every minute of your existence, meaningful or not. No one should tell you how to go about your day if you have plans of your own.
It was simple. Realistic as well, so long as you were an optimist.
It still didn't make up for the punch in the face she'd given me half a year ago. Not completely, anyway.
I saw, now, why Aerith's death had upset Yuffie so much. Our ever kind and gentle friend, the one who went out of her way to make sure others were happy before she could rest, was dead. Aerith wouldn't smile again, wouldn't laugh again, wouldn't have the chance to find love and happiness.
She was still so innocent. Her view of the world wasn't a fair one, which perhaps is what gave her so much hope, but it was realistic. When life gives you lemons, use them to lure a chocobo and get the hell out of there.
The timer on the stove buzzed, and Yuffie donned a pair of oven mitts to pull the cake out. It smelled pretty damn good, considering the mess she'd made making it.
The mood lifted significantly.
"Happy birthday."
"Any excuse for cake, right?"