sarasa_cat: (Yuffie-materia)
[personal profile] sarasa_cat
Title: Of Monsters, Children, and Beasts
Series: FFVII - Even the Littlest Monsters: Tidbits, previews, and outtakes
Characters: Vincent, Yuffie, Nanaki
Rating: G
Words: 900
Summary: Odd circumstances and odd friendships go hand in hand.

Author’s Note: The first in a series of Monsters tidbits to be shared while I finish drafting the novel that Monsters wants to be. I used this scene as a voicing experiment-in-progress to play with what goes on in Vincent’s head during his “……” moments. Not certain how the voicing will change assuming an edited version of this ends up in one of the earlier chapters. In the current draft, this scene occurs in Monsters after Yuffie makes a few attempts to simultaneously humiliate and befriend Vincent (because Vincent is strange and Yuffie is bored and strange is fascinating and they are both outsiders-verging-on-outcasts). That is followed by her doing something “uncharacteristically” altruistic: she successfully defuses an ugly, edging into mutinous argument amongst AVALANCHE after the first time Vincent turns into Galian Beast (and Barret isn’t having any of that shit in AVALANCHE, thank you very much). This scene below occurs a day after that mess and the Vincent-angst that ensues. In that context, this scene can be interpreted as Vincent’s way of finally saying thanks, although it can also stand alone as a character study.

Vincent found Yuffie sprawled inside his tent.

She lay next to Nanaki as the two of them engaged in a heated debate about defensive materia arrangements. Yuffie’s shoes sat haphazardly in the entryway of the tent. She was lying on her spread out bedroll, propped up with not one, but two pillows. The contents of her pack had exploded across the tent’s floor. Socks, shirts, rope, wire, lengths of chain, darts, dozens of palm-size shuriken, smoke bombs, grenades, claws, fangs, birds’ wings, various magical pendants, bottles of potions, vials of antidotes, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, comb, towel, more socks, and a pile of elaborately illustrated comic books plus one slender paperback, although he could not read any of their titles because they were written in Wutaian. The tent was a hellacious mess. And how did Yuffie even fit all of this stuff into such a small pack? Speaking of packs, just why was his pack open? All of this begged the initial question: what was Yuffie doing in his tent?

She flashed him a look of annoyance dipped in disgruntlement, sprinkled with pique. “Yeah?”

And this was supposed to be a challenge? Over what?

“Vincent. Just WHAT is your problem!” This was not a question despite the grammatical construction employed. In fact, the statement amused Vincent. The last time these exact same words had been hurled at him in the exact same tone, he had been stuck sharing a room with his teenaged sister during a visit to his grandparents. His sister. Oh god. Vicky. She would be so much older now. Was she still alive? Probably. As in statistically, yes, it was likely she was alive, and if she was, she’d probably have children of her own. Make that grown children. Adult children. Who might now be older than himself. Or theoretically older. Possibly a decade older. And they might already have had—

Gawd, Vincent. Do you even remember how to talk? Words, Vincent. Words. Do you use them?”

He looked Yuffie in the eye. “What are you doing here?”

She puffed her cheeks and blew out an indignant huff. “I should ask you the same.” She glared at him. “Fine.” And then she rolled her eyes. “No one wants to be in the middle of the Tifa-Cloud-Aerith triangle in tent number one. Barret is still cooling down over that whole issue of what you are. And me and Red have been sharing a tent since long before we hauled your musty old ass out of that coffin. So—” She flipped her hands in an outward gesture indicating that everything regarding her presence in his tent should be self evident.


“Plus,” Yuffie continued, “despite how you look, aren’t you actually older than old. Like embarrassingly weirdly ancient? I mean—guuaaaahhhh!” She stuck out her tongue, made a vomiting noise, and crossed her eyes. Then she turned back to Nanaki and the small pile of material that lay between them.

Yet, for all of Yuffie’s bluster and braggadocio, her cheeks had flushed bright red and her body had tensed like a coiled spring ready to fly if he hadn’t been blocking her exit. Vincent shifted himself within the tent’s door flap and looked away. This was his tent after all, but she had a point regarding tent assignments.

He decided to give Yuffie a moment to collect herself before stating the obvious. “It has already begun to drizzle. The rain here in the mountains is known to come down hard. Also, I should inform you that I have been known to snore.”

He heard her rustle amongst her blankets. “Okay.” She fell silent for a moment. Then, “Do you make spooky zombie noises?”

Vincent turned to look at her. Yuffie now sat crosslegged with one of her blankets wrapped around her shoulders.

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied. But after waiting a beat he said,“I might.”

Her eyes grew wide for a fraction of a second but then she regained her aura of cool. She tossed her head back and barked out a laugh. “That would be seriously freaky, Vincent.”

Nanaki yawned and pawed at his blankets. “To be fair, Yuffie’s snoring rivals the turbines on a carrier class airship.”

“Not true!”

“My kind has sensitive ears.”

“Your paws twitch when you sleep. It’s like you’re dreaming about running.”

“Running away from a loud airship hovering directly over my head.”

I don’t snore!”

“Liar,” Vincent interjected.

Yuffie stared at him, mouth open. Nanaki wore an expression that Vincent interpreted as a smirk.

He eyed them both without blinking until they shifted from the middle of the tent and Yuffie moved a portion of her detritus over to one side. Two can play this game, could they not?

Vincent slid himself into the vacated space and began tugging at his boots. “I’m going to sleep,” he said.

“Alright,” Yuffie replied, her voice strangely quiet, hovering somewhere between an acknowledgment and a question.

Nanaki shrugged and turned so that he faced the tent flap. He settled, taking up the space in the middle.

Within a minute Vincent realized that his pillow had been removed from his pack. He leaned across Nanaki and jabbed Yuffie’s shoulder with his finger. “Give it back.”

“Fine.” She didn’t bother to turn and look at him when she flung the pillow into his face.


Author's post-script note: After spending most of my fandom time as a pioneer for various characters and character pairs (gen, bro, shipping, etc.), it feels odd to post fic for characters/pairs where absolutely everything that could be said regarding characterization and circumstances *has* been said because canon is canon and it suggests the obvious to everyone who touches it. The only question then is how to put it all together in a different yet compelling package. The immortal!Vincent scenes are still in search of a voice and a writing style. TBD how much I continue messing with it before accepting the (lack of) style for what it is and running with it. Needing to consider what is workable for the length of a proper-sized novel-length fic.

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