Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7 > Sable and ivory
Chapter 5
Bitterness
Two years ago he was drowning in the darkness of dreams full of pain cutting through his flesh and mind, misty hazel eyes filled with pretended guilt and the sick laugh of a scientist.
Then, there was light burning his long unused eyes and he was awoken by a bunch of mismatched people, trying to save the world. Weird, right? Yet he joined them, although he stayed as detached as possible, protecting them from his no longer completely human nature and also protecting his own heart from the life these young people reflected. Fights, intrigues, love triangles, secrets... he felt alone and left out, a demon in all reality. It hurt more than the darkness he had suffered. More than the solitude of a coffin with only the fleeting presence in his head of what she and her husband had put inside him. The cold truth was that he, Vincent Valentine the former leader of the Turks, was a man whose heart felt like it was surrounded by tons of suppressed cotton. A distant, faint presence.
As time passed, he grew accustomed to the team's loud and noisy company. But after the Meteor business was over and the world could 'happily live ever after', everyone took his separate way. He unsuccessfully tried to severe any ties he had with them. However, when the right moment popped up, Vincent was there once again, with them. He was there for them. He had saved Cloud and helped defeat the Sephiroth remnants. His humanity was hanging from a thread and he did all he could to hold onto it. It worked. Everything went well and the world was safe again.
Once he tried to distance himself from the others for the second time, he couldn't anymore. Not because anything had changed from their part- no, it was he who had changed. The beginning of this had occurred during a random night. A vision from the woman haunting his past, a phone call from Marlene and Denzel, requesting to visit him, and a lot of thinking resulted in his taking a significant turn his life.
Lucrecia was a dead woman, no matter how much he wanted to deny it in the past. She was also the one who had betrayed him in the shadiest and bitterest way possible. How indirect of her...
Her love for him had been a fake.
Vincent wasn't a saint in his first life but he had loved. Even as a Turk distinguished for his murdering skills, his heart would flutter at the sight of the young scientist jogging lightly in some dusty corridor, folders at hand, and flashing him a hesitant smile. And later, he would feel the urge to hold her tightly, possessively in his arms, during the nights they spent together. Until, one day, his frail dream was violently shredded into pieces by the hands of a madman. And she had complied. His Lucrecia, who was never his to begin with.
When Fate allies with Irony and they both laugh sarcastically at you, it's a cruel thing.
Vincent hadn't forgotten. He couldn't. He had simply chosen to ignore her share of the blame.
Too many years had passed. Too many demons had consumed his brain with guilt.
It wasn't entirely his fault; he could see that more clearly now.
So, one night he decided to pay a visit to those people from his recent past who still wished to regard him as a friend -although, for the life of him, he couldn't understand why- and he was met with their utter surprise. What stirred some forgotten well of life inside him was the fact that their bemusement was a pleasant one. He was wanted there.
It felt good.
That was enough for him at the moment, since he was determined to let go, slowly. There would be one step at a time.
Or so he thought.
For there was a ninja that wanted to drag him miles at a time.
One by one, his past tortures were truly being forgotten. In time he'd become a normal man again but Vincent wasn't ready to open up completely yet. He didn't trust himself to wake up one morning and turn the page in the book of his life just like that.
Time. Time was the key.
Yuffie would have to understand why for both their sakes he had to distance himself for a while.
Oh and, needless to say, the ninja wasn't happy at all.
-----------------------------
She would take no more brooding.
The entire last week -after the unfortunate bathroom incident from Hell- he had been avoiding her like the plague. He was still courteous and yadda yadda but gone where the shudder-bringing suggestions and intense crimson glares... It was almost as if he was purposefully restraining himself from saying anything more than 'Good morning', 'Excuse me', 'Lunch is ready', 'No, thank you'.
She was beyond upset.
Yuffie Kisaragi was fuming.
She got up from the divan and crossed the dimly-lit room. The sun had set a few minutes ago. In her mind, Vincent would soon want to be in its place...
The book he had been reading for the entire evening was sent flying to the kitchen door. Vincent stared openly at the young woman, bemused. Nobody had dared to do that to him before.
He clearly demanded an explanation.
He was rewarded with a combination of furious gray eyes and wild movements of hands, as Yuffie nearly yelled at his face.
"Alright, do I have some dreadful tropical disease I don't know about? Or perhaps, a virus version of the Geostigma or-"
Of course, he knew this was coming. "No," he interrupted her.
"Then why the hell have you been avoiding me? All the words you've said to me during a week are the basic vocabulary of a one-year-old. Do I really bother you that much-"
"No."
"THEN, DO YOU MIND TURNING OFF THE ONE WORD RESPONSE MODE AND TALK TO ME? We were doing fine when I first came here! Now, why do you have to go all 'Mystery-Man' to me and treat me like you can't stand the sight of me?" She ceased her indignant gestures and looked at him sadly. "Have I done something to insult you?"
Vincent sat up in his chair, sighing. "Yuffie, it has nothing to do with you. All I need is ...some time," he hesitated; she wasn't going to like this. "To myself," he added.
Her jaw clenched.
"Are you asking me to let you become miserable again?"
"I must sort some things out in my mind."
"No, damn it, I won't leave you alone as you clearly want me to! I'm worried for you. W-o-r-r-i-e-d."
"Don't. It's not worth it," he muttered flatly.
He didn't need to look at her to know she was infuriated. But when no sharp response came from her, he gazed at the petite ninja. She wasn't gesturing franticly or glaring at him with steam rising from her ears. Instead, her lips were drawn to a tight line and she had her fists clenched at her sides.
"She's gone, Vincent. Why don't you let yourself live for a change?" Her voice came out strained.
Why? Hmph. Could a teenage little girl get anywhere near to understanding his psyche? He felt slight annoyance at her useless persistence and also, he was tired. Yes, too tired of these things already. He didn't want Yuffie reminding him.
"You won't understand. Don't trouble yourself with these things." His tone held finality.
She felt an unrecognizable emotion boil up inside her. She fought back the tears that formed in her eyes.
Yuffie wouldn't understand. Yuffie couldn't understand. Oh, but, of course! Because Yuffie was an immature child and, sure enough, kids don't understand the problems of the grown ups, do they?
Why did she suddenly feel like gripping his shoulders and shaking him violently, why did she want to desperately wake him up?
There was no point in this conversation. Whether she was talking to him or not made no difference, because Vincent -her mind spat the word- treated her like a giggly ten-year-old who was sticking with him so as to make him buy her some extra chocolate ice-cream.
Logic eluded her. For a moment she only felt like a big, outstretched zero, as the realization hit her that she would never be taken seriously by her friends or anybody else.
She was never one to keep emotions in control, not to mention that feelings this strong were uncustomary for Yuffie Kisaragi.
Emotion overloaded 98 per cent...
99 per cent...
100 per cent...
BLAST!
"You think I'm not worthy enough to contradict Your Highness? Then fine. KEEP ROTTING. She won't care, I won't care, NOBODY will care," she hissed fiercely, the tears running freely on her now rose skin.
As she hastily left the apartment, crying and slamming the door hard, she never saw Vincent's carefully controlled vacant expression or the loud crushing noise a little afterwards.
She could imagine alright.
--------------------------------------
Three hours, 3 drinks and 5 shots later...
'What a nice bar,' Yuffie thought merrily. 'They have such wonderful napkins! Yay for napkins!'
She wondered why that jerk also known as Vincent didn't let her come here three days ago. But she -if she remembered correctly- had found it a fantastic place to drink down her anger.
'Hmph... Dangerous, my ass. Besides, I'm the Great Ninja Yuffie Kisaragi! I looove danger. I DIE for danger, I-' HICCUP.
Yeah, well, what if she was a wee bit drunk? Would Big and Broody spank her?
She snickered ridiculously. A few people from the surrounding stools looked pointedly at her but she ignored them, lifting the glass to her lips.
She lifted it higher but nothing happened.
Blurry eyed, she fixed her gaze at the bottom of the glass and found it empty. She giggled and flipped it over, sticking and unsticking the rim to her palm.
"You want another one of that, girlie?"
"Huh?"
"The drink... My treat. Such a pretty woman shouldn't have to pay for her drinks when there are self-respecting men around..." A guy with short blond hair and an easy air about him spoke from the stool on her right. She could swear he had somehow miraculously appeared, since he hadn't been there a few moments ago. Or had he...?
Nah, who cares?
She pondered his offer for a while. She could picture the terrifying frown of Vincent if he was ever aware of this. She smiled goofily at the blond man. Vincent would be furious. 'Then perhaps he'd show some emotion! Wow... A true history-writing moment!' she thought.
It was settled, then.
"Sure," she shrugged.
The man grinned in a lop-sided way that distinctly -and funnily- reminded her of a wolf. He exchanged a glance with the bartender, who didn't look very happy... Just for a moment, then it was gone and the short, chubby man quickly reached for the right bottles.
Was she imagining things? It must have been all the drinking; these mixes could be quite strong sometimes. Never mind that she wasn't supposed to know this, being underage.
The blond guy with the weird grin took the drink from the bartender's hand and put it in front of her, on the wooden surface of the bar.
"There ya go! Enjoy," he said pleasantly. His hair, a dirty blond color covered part of his eyes, while he looked at her expectantly.
The distracting euphoria of alcohol took control over her senses and she drank the entire content of the glass in almost one gulp.
'Take that, Vinnie...'
You know how they say that one of the most common symptoms of adolescence is that the person often does something incredibly irresponsible that will hurt itself, thinking it will hurt someone else?
Well, it's partly right, according to Yuffie. Because, betraying his trust would really hurt Vincent and that's what she wanted.
Right?
A thick fog settled over her mind and her vision became a twirl of colors.
Right?
Didn't she want to make him become miserable if something happened to her and add more burdens of guilt at his conscience-?
Oh fuck.
She didn't. Her eyes widened and she vaguely registered being pushed forward. A door opened and a cold breeze of night air made her cheeks redden a little. With each step she took she could feel her legs give away and various parts of her body stop responding.
She suddenly felt a jolt of panic. And regret. How could she be so stupid?
'Vincent...' she thought feebly.
She made out four figures approaching her, as she fell paralyzed on the dirty backstreet. It was too late at night and the odds of someone passing were against her.
She knew this could happen, so why, oh why did she accept that drink? The blond moron had probably put a paralyzing pill in it.
She was alone and they were next to her now. She couldn't talk, couldn't move of fight. She could only stare and not too clearly, that is.
And she had made quite sure that Vincent wouldn't look for her too.
Yuffie, for the first time in her life, felt completely, utterly defenceless.
Fear, white and black and gray and of every color she had ever seen crept inside her. The iron grip on her heart, blocking it from beating, felt nauseatingly like her own.
Hands moved over her exposed skin greedily, groping and pinching and-
Click.
The safety of a gun was pulled.
She opened her previously tightly shut eyes.
The barrel of said -large- gun was pointed threateningly at her would be rapists.
A deep voice, barely containing its fury, rumbled,
"Hands. Off. Her. Now."
Bitterness
Two years ago he was drowning in the darkness of dreams full of pain cutting through his flesh and mind, misty hazel eyes filled with pretended guilt and the sick laugh of a scientist.
Then, there was light burning his long unused eyes and he was awoken by a bunch of mismatched people, trying to save the world. Weird, right? Yet he joined them, although he stayed as detached as possible, protecting them from his no longer completely human nature and also protecting his own heart from the life these young people reflected. Fights, intrigues, love triangles, secrets... he felt alone and left out, a demon in all reality. It hurt more than the darkness he had suffered. More than the solitude of a coffin with only the fleeting presence in his head of what she and her husband had put inside him. The cold truth was that he, Vincent Valentine the former leader of the Turks, was a man whose heart felt like it was surrounded by tons of suppressed cotton. A distant, faint presence.
As time passed, he grew accustomed to the team's loud and noisy company. But after the Meteor business was over and the world could 'happily live ever after', everyone took his separate way. He unsuccessfully tried to severe any ties he had with them. However, when the right moment popped up, Vincent was there once again, with them. He was there for them. He had saved Cloud and helped defeat the Sephiroth remnants. His humanity was hanging from a thread and he did all he could to hold onto it. It worked. Everything went well and the world was safe again.
Once he tried to distance himself from the others for the second time, he couldn't anymore. Not because anything had changed from their part- no, it was he who had changed. The beginning of this had occurred during a random night. A vision from the woman haunting his past, a phone call from Marlene and Denzel, requesting to visit him, and a lot of thinking resulted in his taking a significant turn his life.
Lucrecia was a dead woman, no matter how much he wanted to deny it in the past. She was also the one who had betrayed him in the shadiest and bitterest way possible. How indirect of her...
Her love for him had been a fake.
Vincent wasn't a saint in his first life but he had loved. Even as a Turk distinguished for his murdering skills, his heart would flutter at the sight of the young scientist jogging lightly in some dusty corridor, folders at hand, and flashing him a hesitant smile. And later, he would feel the urge to hold her tightly, possessively in his arms, during the nights they spent together. Until, one day, his frail dream was violently shredded into pieces by the hands of a madman. And she had complied. His Lucrecia, who was never his to begin with.
When Fate allies with Irony and they both laugh sarcastically at you, it's a cruel thing.
Vincent hadn't forgotten. He couldn't. He had simply chosen to ignore her share of the blame.
Too many years had passed. Too many demons had consumed his brain with guilt.
It wasn't entirely his fault; he could see that more clearly now.
So, one night he decided to pay a visit to those people from his recent past who still wished to regard him as a friend -although, for the life of him, he couldn't understand why- and he was met with their utter surprise. What stirred some forgotten well of life inside him was the fact that their bemusement was a pleasant one. He was wanted there.
It felt good.
That was enough for him at the moment, since he was determined to let go, slowly. There would be one step at a time.
Or so he thought.
For there was a ninja that wanted to drag him miles at a time.
One by one, his past tortures were truly being forgotten. In time he'd become a normal man again but Vincent wasn't ready to open up completely yet. He didn't trust himself to wake up one morning and turn the page in the book of his life just like that.
Time. Time was the key.
Yuffie would have to understand why for both their sakes he had to distance himself for a while.
Oh and, needless to say, the ninja wasn't happy at all.
-----------------------------
She would take no more brooding.
The entire last week -after the unfortunate bathroom incident from Hell- he had been avoiding her like the plague. He was still courteous and yadda yadda but gone where the shudder-bringing suggestions and intense crimson glares... It was almost as if he was purposefully restraining himself from saying anything more than 'Good morning', 'Excuse me', 'Lunch is ready', 'No, thank you'.
She was beyond upset.
Yuffie Kisaragi was fuming.
She got up from the divan and crossed the dimly-lit room. The sun had set a few minutes ago. In her mind, Vincent would soon want to be in its place...
The book he had been reading for the entire evening was sent flying to the kitchen door. Vincent stared openly at the young woman, bemused. Nobody had dared to do that to him before.
He clearly demanded an explanation.
He was rewarded with a combination of furious gray eyes and wild movements of hands, as Yuffie nearly yelled at his face.
"Alright, do I have some dreadful tropical disease I don't know about? Or perhaps, a virus version of the Geostigma or-"
Of course, he knew this was coming. "No," he interrupted her.
"Then why the hell have you been avoiding me? All the words you've said to me during a week are the basic vocabulary of a one-year-old. Do I really bother you that much-"
"No."
"THEN, DO YOU MIND TURNING OFF THE ONE WORD RESPONSE MODE AND TALK TO ME? We were doing fine when I first came here! Now, why do you have to go all 'Mystery-Man' to me and treat me like you can't stand the sight of me?" She ceased her indignant gestures and looked at him sadly. "Have I done something to insult you?"
Vincent sat up in his chair, sighing. "Yuffie, it has nothing to do with you. All I need is ...some time," he hesitated; she wasn't going to like this. "To myself," he added.
Her jaw clenched.
"Are you asking me to let you become miserable again?"
"I must sort some things out in my mind."
"No, damn it, I won't leave you alone as you clearly want me to! I'm worried for you. W-o-r-r-i-e-d."
"Don't. It's not worth it," he muttered flatly.
He didn't need to look at her to know she was infuriated. But when no sharp response came from her, he gazed at the petite ninja. She wasn't gesturing franticly or glaring at him with steam rising from her ears. Instead, her lips were drawn to a tight line and she had her fists clenched at her sides.
"She's gone, Vincent. Why don't you let yourself live for a change?" Her voice came out strained.
Why? Hmph. Could a teenage little girl get anywhere near to understanding his psyche? He felt slight annoyance at her useless persistence and also, he was tired. Yes, too tired of these things already. He didn't want Yuffie reminding him.
"You won't understand. Don't trouble yourself with these things." His tone held finality.
She felt an unrecognizable emotion boil up inside her. She fought back the tears that formed in her eyes.
Yuffie wouldn't understand. Yuffie couldn't understand. Oh, but, of course! Because Yuffie was an immature child and, sure enough, kids don't understand the problems of the grown ups, do they?
Why did she suddenly feel like gripping his shoulders and shaking him violently, why did she want to desperately wake him up?
There was no point in this conversation. Whether she was talking to him or not made no difference, because Vincent -her mind spat the word- treated her like a giggly ten-year-old who was sticking with him so as to make him buy her some extra chocolate ice-cream.
Logic eluded her. For a moment she only felt like a big, outstretched zero, as the realization hit her that she would never be taken seriously by her friends or anybody else.
She was never one to keep emotions in control, not to mention that feelings this strong were uncustomary for Yuffie Kisaragi.
Emotion overloaded 98 per cent...
99 per cent...
100 per cent...
BLAST!
"You think I'm not worthy enough to contradict Your Highness? Then fine. KEEP ROTTING. She won't care, I won't care, NOBODY will care," she hissed fiercely, the tears running freely on her now rose skin.
As she hastily left the apartment, crying and slamming the door hard, she never saw Vincent's carefully controlled vacant expression or the loud crushing noise a little afterwards.
She could imagine alright.
--------------------------------------
Three hours, 3 drinks and 5 shots later...
'What a nice bar,' Yuffie thought merrily. 'They have such wonderful napkins! Yay for napkins!'
She wondered why that jerk also known as Vincent didn't let her come here three days ago. But she -if she remembered correctly- had found it a fantastic place to drink down her anger.
'Hmph... Dangerous, my ass. Besides, I'm the Great Ninja Yuffie Kisaragi! I looove danger. I DIE for danger, I-' HICCUP.
Yeah, well, what if she was a wee bit drunk? Would Big and Broody spank her?
She snickered ridiculously. A few people from the surrounding stools looked pointedly at her but she ignored them, lifting the glass to her lips.
She lifted it higher but nothing happened.
Blurry eyed, she fixed her gaze at the bottom of the glass and found it empty. She giggled and flipped it over, sticking and unsticking the rim to her palm.
"You want another one of that, girlie?"
"Huh?"
"The drink... My treat. Such a pretty woman shouldn't have to pay for her drinks when there are self-respecting men around..." A guy with short blond hair and an easy air about him spoke from the stool on her right. She could swear he had somehow miraculously appeared, since he hadn't been there a few moments ago. Or had he...?
Nah, who cares?
She pondered his offer for a while. She could picture the terrifying frown of Vincent if he was ever aware of this. She smiled goofily at the blond man. Vincent would be furious. 'Then perhaps he'd show some emotion! Wow... A true history-writing moment!' she thought.
It was settled, then.
"Sure," she shrugged.
The man grinned in a lop-sided way that distinctly -and funnily- reminded her of a wolf. He exchanged a glance with the bartender, who didn't look very happy... Just for a moment, then it was gone and the short, chubby man quickly reached for the right bottles.
Was she imagining things? It must have been all the drinking; these mixes could be quite strong sometimes. Never mind that she wasn't supposed to know this, being underage.
The blond guy with the weird grin took the drink from the bartender's hand and put it in front of her, on the wooden surface of the bar.
"There ya go! Enjoy," he said pleasantly. His hair, a dirty blond color covered part of his eyes, while he looked at her expectantly.
The distracting euphoria of alcohol took control over her senses and she drank the entire content of the glass in almost one gulp.
'Take that, Vinnie...'
You know how they say that one of the most common symptoms of adolescence is that the person often does something incredibly irresponsible that will hurt itself, thinking it will hurt someone else?
Well, it's partly right, according to Yuffie. Because, betraying his trust would really hurt Vincent and that's what she wanted.
Right?
A thick fog settled over her mind and her vision became a twirl of colors.
Right?
Didn't she want to make him become miserable if something happened to her and add more burdens of guilt at his conscience-?
Oh fuck.
She didn't. Her eyes widened and she vaguely registered being pushed forward. A door opened and a cold breeze of night air made her cheeks redden a little. With each step she took she could feel her legs give away and various parts of her body stop responding.
She suddenly felt a jolt of panic. And regret. How could she be so stupid?
'Vincent...' she thought feebly.
She made out four figures approaching her, as she fell paralyzed on the dirty backstreet. It was too late at night and the odds of someone passing were against her.
She knew this could happen, so why, oh why did she accept that drink? The blond moron had probably put a paralyzing pill in it.
She was alone and they were next to her now. She couldn't talk, couldn't move of fight. She could only stare and not too clearly, that is.
And she had made quite sure that Vincent wouldn't look for her too.
Yuffie, for the first time in her life, felt completely, utterly defenceless.
Fear, white and black and gray and of every color she had ever seen crept inside her. The iron grip on her heart, blocking it from beating, felt nauseatingly like her own.
Hands moved over her exposed skin greedily, groping and pinching and-
Click.
The safety of a gun was pulled.
She opened her previously tightly shut eyes.
The barrel of said -large- gun was pointed threateningly at her would be rapists.
A deep voice, barely containing its fury, rumbled,
"Hands. Off. Her. Now."
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