Sequel to Letter. Yuffie misses Vincent.
Disclaimer: They belong to Squarenix and sadly, it isn't me.
I never cry in front of people. It would be a mistake to show them I have any weakness. People don't want to see that in their leaders, therefore I don't cry when there is a possibility someone could see me. Tifa once asked how I managed that. I smiled mirthlessly and replied that I cried in the night when I was alone. And it has been three years since I've been spending all my nights with only my misery and memories for company. Three years. That's thirty-six months or one hundred and fifty-six weeks or one thousand and ninety-five days or... but it doesn't matter how long it has been. The only thing that matters is that he has been gone for that long.
The morning three years ago, when I woke up in an empty bed with only a letter left to answer my questions, is forever marked as a day when my heart shattered to pieces, never to be mended again. I screamed, I raged, I wept, I curled and wished to die. But in the end, I plastered smile that looked fake even to me on my face and walked out, head held higher than ever before. And I went through my day as if nothing had happened and inside I was dying. When I was asked where he was I replied (remarkably calm if you realize that my first instinct was to kill the person who asked and then ran to my house crying) that he had left. Nothing else.
Of course, once Tifa found out, she insisted that I needed to talk about it. I think it was the only time I lost my temper with her. It wasn't nice. I used a lot of words I had learned from Cid. Yes, #$%@ it all, I am #$%@ hurt. Yes, my #$%@ heart was broken by man whom I gave #$%@ everything. Yes, I am only #$%@ nineteen. But #$%@ damnit, I don't want to talk about it, so could you stop asking? Tifa left me alone afterwards, not even angry with me, Leviathan bless her.
I have become only a shadow of what I once was. Everyone noticed. Noone said anything. For that I am thankful. The others have visited me few times and I almost couldn't stand their pitying glances they were giving me when they thought I wasn't looking. Tifa was the worst of them but I didn't blame her. It's how she is, worrying about others. She offered to find Vincent for me but I declined. It wouldn't help if she dragged him to me (and I know she would do it). He has to come back of his own will and I'm afraid he never will.
Someone once said you can't die of broken heart. That someone never loved. I am dying bit by bit every day, every night he is gone. There is nothing to save me now. It is becoming too much to carry on. Maybe I should end it myself but I chase such thoughts away as soon as they appear. I don't know why but it seems like a cowardice. And I have never been a coward.
So instead I cry. I cry every night. Tears are helping me a little. I pull out his letter which is creased and wrinkled and slightly torn at edges. I go through every word and wish I could hate him for causing me this pain but I can't. Not when I know how much it had to hurt him, too. Not when I see the slightly smudged ink and know he shed tears while writing this.
I can't hate you Vincent.
He left because he thought he had to protect me from himself. He never realized that in doing so, he condemned me to slowly wither away. I always thought I would go with a bang, not that I would fade like a flower that bloomed too soon and got frosted by returning winter.
I am a monster... I am beyond salvation, Yuffie and I won't drag you down with me.
You were wrong Vincent. You wouldn't drag me down if you stayed. You have done it when you left.
I start crying, my tears roll down my cheeks and drip from my chin. They are like raindrops vaporized from oceanwater, salty as some of them stray from their course and touch my lips, reminiscent of his gentle touch. The rest of them land at the paper he has left behind and soak into it, mingling with the tears he cried, merging with them just like me and him used to merge together not only in bodies but in souls as well. Memories, cursed and cherished at the same time, appear from where I put them away during the day. And I lie on the bed which is always cold and empty without him and I weep my pain into a pillow until there are no tears left and I fall asleep only to wake up to the same harsh reality as before. Reality, where tears shed on the following night are all I have left. Them and a small flicker of hope he would be there in the morning.
AN: Once again short and depressing. What can I say? There will be another fic in few days to conclude this tragic miniseries.