Reason to Live

By mihoyonagi

Chapter 12

Even after all of the time I've spent in her company, Yuffie Kisaragi remains an enigma.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not talking mysteries of life or anything so significant.

I've simply found that as soon as I think I know her, as soon as I believe I've figured part of her out, she does or says something that throws me completely off balance.

I used to think of myself as a practical man; a man who puts thoughts behind actions, and meaning behind words. Now, I find myself doing impractical things for impractical reasons, just to please the young woman who I share a living space with.

Though, I have little right to complain considering that if I truly wanted out I could excuse myself from my predicament permanently by simply leaving in the middle of the night.

Then again, I tried that once. It landed me a punch in th face.

With a heavy heart I openly admit that the main reason I believe Yuffie an enigma was simply how completely different she was from what was familiar to me in women. She was, in short, an absolute opposite of Lucrecia.

Comparing the two, I realized, was like comparing apples to chocobos; they were simply never meant to be compared to one another.

Sure, they had similar defining qualities, like their kindness – though it was harder to find in Yuffie than it had been in Lucrecia – but, overall, they were beings that exhibited completely different behavioral and attitude patterns. Where Lucrecia had been calm, collected, patient and wise, Yuffie was boisterous, overwhelming, restless and, more often than not, callous.

And, as it turned out, she and I were just what the other needed.

Near midsummer, Yuffie had made a friend. He was a young man by the name of Rafe, and his family owned the general store that had only opened a few months before. He was genuine and kind, though slightly sarcastic, and he and Yuffie got along well enough that their sharing company allowed me a little silences every now and again.

It was almost her birthday, hardly a week before, and she came home with red eyes and of sore temperament.

I followed her to her room, concerned, and she told me to mind my own business and leave her some space. Then, she promptly shut her bedroom door in my face.

Rather put off, I left her to her own the rest of the night.

She emerged at nearly two o'clock in the morning, looking sheepish and utterly disheveled. Her eyes were puffy, and her nose was red.

"I'm sorry I was such a bitch earlier," she hiccuped.

"Care to share what happened?"

Yuffie folded her arms across her chest, biting her lip.

"I was dumped."

I raised an eyebrow, unaware that she had actually been dating Rafe. Sighing, I stood up and walked to her. She looked so small and fragile when she was upset. I put a hand on her shoulder.

"Care for some hot chocolate? I was about to fix myself some."

The surprise on her face was more than apparent. I knew that when she had opened up to me and apologized she hadn't been looking for pity. Yuffie wasn't like that. She just wanted someone to talk to.

If there was one thing I'd learned about her while in her company, it was that she didn't want pity and sympathy. She simply wants to talk, and to have someone listen to her, even if they don't say anything in reply.

Even so, I'm sure she'd been expecting a lecture from me.

She would be eighteen in a few days time; who was I to lecture her any longer? Perhaps if she did something truly stupid I might speak up.

But heartbreak is a part of life, and you never understand how to accept it until it's kicked you in the face with a spiked boot and you're forced to keep going because that's just how messed up the world is.

She hiccuped. "Yeah. That sounds good."

I made it the way she preferred, with whole milk warmed on the stove and an extra spoonful of the chalky cocoa powder. Four small marshmallows swam in the warm brew; her supposed lucky number.

"Have you thought about what you might like for your birthday?"

She looked up at me with a saddened expression. "Vincent, when is your birthday?"

I blinked in surprise. "The thirteenth of October."

"We didn't celebrate. I'm sorry."

She looked as though she was going to cry.

I held up a hand, trying to dismiss her anxiety. "Yuffie, my birthday is unimportant. If I had wanted a party, I would have said something."

"But birthdays are special. Everyone should feel special on their birthday."

I smiled at her, gently. "Please, Yuffie- don't cry. If you're so bothered by my lack of birthday, how about we celebrate both of our birthdays on the same day? You made yourself a cake last years, but how about we go to the store and get a nice cake for the both of us?"

She blinked at me, and at first I thought she was unmoved.

"Since I'll be turning 18, am I allowed some alcohol?"

I smirked, trying to bring humor into the conversation. "I'm not so sure. Remembered what happened last time you and alcohol mixed?" I knew she wasn't crying for lack of celebration; she was still upset over being dumped, and, as sad as it sounded, I didn't blame her. Hearts are fickle things.

That brought a smile to her face, albeit a small one. "I promise to be good. I'll only have a little. Please?"

I pretended to mull the idea over. "I suppose we could get a little, but only if I get to pick."

She grinned, her mood having lifted somewhat. "If you pick, you have to pay."

"Fair enough."

She leaned against the door frame, sighing heavily. Her intake of breath was shaken, and I knew she was both emotionally and mentally drained.

I made a motion with my head, directing her toward the stairs. "You should go get some sleep. We can talk in the morning."

She acquiesced, without so much as a second thought. I retreated to my room for the remainder of the night.

It was two days later, I was in the general store purchasing something that wouldn't tank Yuffie in less than two drinks. I promised her alcohol. I didn't, however, promise her the alcohol's proof. I made sure to give Rafe a good long glare before I left. The look on his face was akin to someone who had just watched their entire lives flash before their eyes.

For the first time I was thankful nearly half of the townsfolk thought me to be some dark, evil creature of the night. Rafe wouldn't be sleeping peacefully for many moons to come.

Sure, it was cruel of me.

Did it make me feel better knowing that I had messed with him after he'd dumped Yuffie?

You bet.

I arrived home with Yuffie's requested booze and she squealed happily when she saw what I carried, despite the proof. She didn't seem to mind, which meant that I wasn't going to get my ass chewed. Win-win situation.

It was well into the night, the bottles of alcohol were nearly empty, and we lay, side by side, on the floor, our heads near one another, our feet facing opposite directions.

"And you know what?" Her words weren't slurred, but it appeared she had a lower tolerance for alcohol than I'd previously thought.

"No. What?"

"I asked for a chocobo, and I got the damn chocobo. I was, like, nine, and my dad got me a pet chocobo for my birthday. That was some messed up shit. I loved that dopey bird. I almost took him with me when I ran away. I left him, though, because I knew how much grandma loved him, too."

"That was kind of you." I took another sip from the bottle in my hand, despite its near emptiness.

She rolled over, looking me right in the eyes, propping herself up with her elbows. "You know, I can't tell stuff like this to anyone else. No one else gets me like you do, Vincent. Everyone tells me I had it easy, and for the most part, they're right. I did have it easy. But what else can I compare it to? I mean, sure, those were some great times, but as soon as mom died and Shinra invaded, my entire world went down the shitter."

She took the bottle from my hand and gulped the rest of the alcohol down, smacking her lips theatrically.

"You. You had it bad, I can tell. Even though you won't tell me crap about your past, I know you had it bad. But you're like me. Not everything was bad at first. Then it just punched you in the gut and gave you the finger as it ran the hell away, right?"

I was tired, and heavily buzzed from drinking so much. "I did have it bad. Not at first, you're right."

"I'm sorry."

Rolling over, I propped myself up on my elbow and faced her. "It's late. We should go to bed."

She looked around the room, at the food wrappers and dirty dishes on the coffee table. "What about our mess?"

"We can deal with it in the morning. I don't care right now."

"Vincent Valentine; it seems you pull that stick out of your ass when you've had a few drinks. Maybe we should buy alcohol more often?"

I stood and reached my hand out to help her up. "Not likely. This was a one-time thing."

"What about next year?"

I grimaced as I stood, knowing there was no way to back out of the deal I had apparently made. Birthdays equal alcohol. "Next year, you can pay."

She groaned, rolling onto her back and dramatically threw her wrist to her forehead. I held a hand out to her, offering her help up.

"Carry me."

I looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Carry you?"

"Is there an echo in here?"

Was I really going to argue with a slightly intoxicated Yuffie? Honestly, I was too tired to care.

So, swallowing my pride, I bent down and scooped her up, carrying her, bridal style, to the stairs.

That's when everything went downhill.

She reached up and began to tear at the cloth I used to hide my eyes and keep the hair from my face. "What are you doing?" I vocally protested, unable to do anything considering I needed both hands to hold her.

"I'm taking this stupid thing off. Your eyes are such a cool color, and your hair looks like shit with this thing is all wrapped up around it."

The top stair is where I met my downfall, quite literally.

It was true that I had the blood of many creatures flowing through my veins, and it was true that I had faster reflexes than the average human because of it. It was also a slightly less known truth that I, on occasion, could trip over my own two feet.

My occasional clumsiness mixed with the fact that my hair wrap was completely blocking out my vision thanks to Yuffie, it was no wonder that I fell when my foot caught the top stair.

Despite my fast reflexes, I didn't have enough time to place a foot out in order to stop from falling, but I was at least able to turn on the way down, meaning that I landed on my back, elbows out to support me, while Yuffie landed, without grace, on my stomach.

I groaned from the discomfort. It hadn't hurt too terribly, but it was still enough to earn a wince out of me. When I looked up, Yuffie was giggling.

"That was bad, even for you."

"I didn't manage to fall on you, did I? Besides; if you hadn't been messing around in the first place I wouldn't have fallen. I couldn't see because of you."

She shrugged, as if it were nothing of importance. Instead, she leaned toward me and, pulling my hair back, tied it in a low ponytail at the base of my neck, keeping it place with the wrap she'd only just finished undoing.

"There! All better!"

When she reached out her hand to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind my ear, everything stopped in my world.

I always knew she was a lady. But when, honestly, had she become a woman? Her skin was smooth and warm, her eyes cheery and bright, her smile gleeful and mischievous.

She was somehow... different.

I must have been wearing my emotions on my face, plain as day, because I watched as Yuffie's face slowly changed as she read the look I knew was present on mine.

She slowly leaned in...

And kissed me, full on the lips.

It was gentle, tentative, yet bold, as if she were both frightened and sure of herself at the same time.

At first, I didn't know what to do. It had been a long time since I'd been with a woman... Yuffie was still so young, so fragile, so...

Innocent.

But I couldn't help myself.

She pulled back when I didn't respond, her face already completely red from embarrassment.

"Vincent, I'm-"

I didn't know what I was doing. Hell, I hadn't realized I was doing it until it was too late.

I reached my right hand up, letting it slide through her short hair, and placed it on the back of her head. Gently, I pulled her toward me.

Here eyes grew wide before they slowly drifted close, her face coming closer to mine until there was no space between as our lips met again.

It was novel, kissing a woman I wasn't completely infatuated with. Refreshing, uplifting, pleasant...

It was greedy, selfish, and uncaring of me, but I couldn't help it; I wanted more.

I pushed against her, pulling my lips away only to press them against hers again and again. Sitting up, cradling her in my lap, I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her.

Her arms wove around my neck in return, lying lazily on my shoulders while her fingers traced unrecognizable patterns in my back.

I stood before I knew what I was doing. Her lithe legs wrapped around my waist as she held onto me. Deep down, something feral in me wanted to keep going. Most of me, in fact, would have been contented to continue, but I knew that she was too young, too innocent, too new to love and the dangers it possessed.

The only love I'd ever known had destroyed me.

What, then, was left of me to lose?

I'd walked into her room and sat her on the bed, both of my arms resting on either side of her. I took a deep breath, trying to distract myself. Her deft fingers had taken my hair tie out – the one that had started this mess in the first place, no less – and her touch was gentle, pleading.

She was scared, but intrigued. I could feel her pulse in her wrist as I pulled her hand away.

Her eyes, both curious and hurt that I'd stopped her, caught me.

I hadn't said a word.

But the moment I felt my face change, I knew it was too late. She had seen the most basic of human emotions cross my face.

For the first time since my change, I let myself wear my heart on my face.

Her eyes fell. She folded her hands into her lap and sighed.

I reached down, pushing the hair from her eyes, and kissed her forehead before I left the room.

I was terrified.

Yuffie had seen me in my most basic, vulnerable state, and she's simply let it go. She knew there was nothing she could have said, could have done, so she let me to myself.

It was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for me.