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"You're just like him, you know? Right down to the obsession with red. Isn't there a fashion rule about not wearing red after Chocobo Appreciatation Day? But don't worry about it - you look smashing. Are you sure you're not him in disguise? Or him reincarnated or something? Is your middle name Vincent?"
"I don't have a middle name."
"Sucks to be you! Mine's Danger. Yuffie Danger Kisaragi. Actually, it's Yuffie Danger Awesome-Pants Ninja of Doom Kisaragi." Silence from the peanut gallery. "Ok... moving on. What about your last name? Does it or has it ever had any Vs in it?"
"I don't have a last name."
"What? You're kidding me! No, you don't kid. But that's insane! What happens if you meet another Auron? Do you have to fight to the death over ownership?"
"There are no other Aurons."
"Man, thank gawd. I don't think we're ready for that."
Auron pulled his arms into his sleeves and then folded them (his arms, not the sleeves) across his chest, which Yuffie took to mean that the conversation was over. She'd only known him for about four days, but she'd already learned the subtle nuances that were his moods: silent indifference, silent distaste, and silent acceptance. Behold the soaring variety of emotions! Truly, a rainbow of feelings!
So totally like Vincent.
She traced the dents in Cid's table with her finger. Here were her initials that she had carved to piss off Cid and take his mind off Shera. And here was indent from when Cloud smashed his glass after fighting with Leon about Aeris. That had been a bad day (understatement of the century). Each week that passed saw more bad days than good, it seemed. Nightmares, arguments, lies. They were unraveling - each day took a little more from them. She sighed and looked across at the table at Auron; he had closed his good eye and looked asleep, but she'd wager her right leg that his reflexes were as sharp as ever.
It was reassuring knowledge - Auron would be there, be ready, for whatever life (or death) threw at him. He was a big lump, no questinon about it, but he was a comforting lump. A rock. An anchor. "Hey, Auron? I'm glad you're here, you know?"
Maybe it was all in the delivery, because she didn't think her words were all that earth-shattering, but suddenly Auron looked up at her, his expression so intense that she blushed, in spite of herself, "What?"
He relaxed, the sharpness in his features softening. He chuckled mirthlessly and ran his hand through his spiky hair. "Your similarity is uncanny."
Ah. She tried to pull her lips into a grin. "Don't think I'd look good as a blond." Another lull settled over them and Yuffie found herself studying him again. "You'd look pretty awesome with long hair, though. And then me and Aeris could braid it and put in bows and sparkly barettes and Leon would be totally jealous."
"It was long, once."
Auron, being conversational? Hot damn! She perked up and wiggled in her chair. Cast your line enough times and you're bound to catch a fish. "Really? Bet you looked super studly. Why'd you cut it short?"
"I died."
Oh. She flopped over onto the table and rubbed her chin against the cool wood. If Aeris were around, she'd say something profound that would simoltaniously be sad and uplifting, and Auron would look up with tears in his eyes and than throw himself at her, sobbing her name, and Aeris would smile softly and a beam of light would shine down on them from the sky. But all Auron had for a companion was a short ninja with scraped knees and a shirt stained with blood, sweat, tears, and breakfast. "Just the opposite of Vinnie, then," she said at last, unable to find the words that would have come so easily to Aeris. "He had it short when he was alive, and then grew it out after he died. Crazy."
"Hn."
"So I guess that means that you're not exactly the same as him. But that's ok, I still like ya."
"What a relief."
Yuffie gaped at him for a moment, and then slapped her hands down onto the table as she shook with laughter. "So you do have a sense of humor," she mused with a grin, "A puny, little one, but we can work on it. You know what? You're all right."
Auron pulled his arms back into his sleeves and folded them again (still the arms, not his sleeves) across his chest. But Yuffie swore that before he slouched down into his coat and hid his face in his collar, she saw a smile.
"I don't have a middle name."
"Sucks to be you! Mine's Danger. Yuffie Danger Kisaragi. Actually, it's Yuffie Danger Awesome-Pants Ninja of Doom Kisaragi." Silence from the peanut gallery. "Ok... moving on. What about your last name? Does it or has it ever had any Vs in it?"
"I don't have a last name."
"What? You're kidding me! No, you don't kid. But that's insane! What happens if you meet another Auron? Do you have to fight to the death over ownership?"
"There are no other Aurons."
"Man, thank gawd. I don't think we're ready for that."
Auron pulled his arms into his sleeves and then folded them (his arms, not the sleeves) across his chest, which Yuffie took to mean that the conversation was over. She'd only known him for about four days, but she'd already learned the subtle nuances that were his moods: silent indifference, silent distaste, and silent acceptance. Behold the soaring variety of emotions! Truly, a rainbow of feelings!
So totally like Vincent.
She traced the dents in Cid's table with her finger. Here were her initials that she had carved to piss off Cid and take his mind off Shera. And here was indent from when Cloud smashed his glass after fighting with Leon about Aeris. That had been a bad day (understatement of the century). Each week that passed saw more bad days than good, it seemed. Nightmares, arguments, lies. They were unraveling - each day took a little more from them. She sighed and looked across at the table at Auron; he had closed his good eye and looked asleep, but she'd wager her right leg that his reflexes were as sharp as ever.
It was reassuring knowledge - Auron would be there, be ready, for whatever life (or death) threw at him. He was a big lump, no questinon about it, but he was a comforting lump. A rock. An anchor. "Hey, Auron? I'm glad you're here, you know?"
Maybe it was all in the delivery, because she didn't think her words were all that earth-shattering, but suddenly Auron looked up at her, his expression so intense that she blushed, in spite of herself, "What?"
He relaxed, the sharpness in his features softening. He chuckled mirthlessly and ran his hand through his spiky hair. "Your similarity is uncanny."
Ah. She tried to pull her lips into a grin. "Don't think I'd look good as a blond." Another lull settled over them and Yuffie found herself studying him again. "You'd look pretty awesome with long hair, though. And then me and Aeris could braid it and put in bows and sparkly barettes and Leon would be totally jealous."
"It was long, once."
Auron, being conversational? Hot damn! She perked up and wiggled in her chair. Cast your line enough times and you're bound to catch a fish. "Really? Bet you looked super studly. Why'd you cut it short?"
"I died."
Oh. She flopped over onto the table and rubbed her chin against the cool wood. If Aeris were around, she'd say something profound that would simoltaniously be sad and uplifting, and Auron would look up with tears in his eyes and than throw himself at her, sobbing her name, and Aeris would smile softly and a beam of light would shine down on them from the sky. But all Auron had for a companion was a short ninja with scraped knees and a shirt stained with blood, sweat, tears, and breakfast. "Just the opposite of Vinnie, then," she said at last, unable to find the words that would have come so easily to Aeris. "He had it short when he was alive, and then grew it out after he died. Crazy."
"Hn."
"So I guess that means that you're not exactly the same as him. But that's ok, I still like ya."
"What a relief."
Yuffie gaped at him for a moment, and then slapped her hands down onto the table as she shook with laughter. "So you do have a sense of humor," she mused with a grin, "A puny, little one, but we can work on it. You know what? You're all right."
Auron pulled his arms back into his sleeves and folded them again (still the arms, not his sleeves) across his chest. But Yuffie swore that before he slouched down into his coat and hid his face in his collar, she saw a smile.