(no subject)

[nagia]

Yuffie dropped the book onto Merlin's table and dropped into one of the stuffed chairs. The fairies were still gathered around the sleeping woman in the dollhouse. They hadn't budged in an hour, not that Yuffie could blame them. She'd only wandered away out of the monotony of watching a sleeping woman breathe.

Well, that and watching someone sleep seemed a little on the creeptastic side to her.

She thought back to the red-eyed painting in that book, and then forced herself to think about something else. Like the fact that Merlin was murmuring things like pu ekaW and erom on peelS to the sleeping woman. The scent of burnt oatmeal cookies filled the air, but the woman didn't stir.

".ti dnammoc I, pu ekaW .revo si peels rof emit ehT"

Yuffie could almost taste the cookies. Golden brown on the top, and charred on the bottom. Blackening with every word he said, until she caught no hint of the raisins.

At last, Merlin shook his head and sighed. "I apologize, ladies. But whatever spell Maleficent laid on her cannot be undone by a wizard."

"We're going to have to bargain with her again," Paine replied, voice duller than usual.

"No, Paine." Yuna lifted her chin. "We aren't making any more deals with Maleficent."

Rikku smacked a tiny fist into a tiny palm. "We could try that book! She has to be in it!"

Auron's lips twitched up. She didn't really get Auron, but a total moron would have heard his Don't bet on it. Or maybe it was a That's the spirit. She really couldn't tell with him.

But Paine shook her head. "That's a deal with Maleficent."

"But she's not even here!"

Paine said nothing. After a moment, Rikku hung her head and sighed.

"How's it a deal with her if she's not here?" That one, she had to know. Was that book for her? Some totally bonkers way of paying off Maleficent's debt to her?

"Have you ever heard the Principle of Contagion?"

"The Principle of what?"

Merlin adjusted his spectacles. "The Principle of Contagion means that any piece of a whole is always part of that whole, even if they're separated."

"Once together," Yuna said, quietly, "always together."

"So, what, because she used to own it, it can become her, or whatever?"

Merlin chuckled. "No, most likely not. It's like a spokesperson. For a fairy, any bargain made with that book is a bargain that she can collect on."

"Okay, so no magical book. There still has to be a way to break that spell, right?"

"No spell lasts forever." Yuna looked down at the sleeping woman. "There is a loophole. We just have to find it."

Yuffie picked the book up again, tuning out the mumbo jumbo jargon that Merlin and the fairies had started trading. She paged through until she found her new entry.

It was definitely her, sneakers and vest and dark eyes and all. It looked like some moron with a watercolor kit had painted it, all blobby and blurry, but that didn't change who the girl in the painting was.

The page just sort of sat there, half empty, for a minute before the ink started appearing, finishing the thought:

ſhe dreameth of dragonns. In remembering who ſhe once were, ſhe forget who ſhe be, and for this will gift unto Hades ye ſtill-beating harte of her fateley-bounde.

---

Radiant Garden: Aerith's House

She left dinner early — and the clean-up to Aerith and Squall, natch — and took that stupid book up to her room. Even with her door closed, she sometimes heard the trail end of one of Aerith's jokes, and then Aerith's giggle while Squall and his hair silently lamented the existence of humor.

Where did that book get off, telling her that she was forgetting who she was? She wasn't. She was Yuffie Kisaragi of Wutai (wherever Wutai was). Her father was Godo Kisaragi. Her mother was —

Only she couldn't remember her mother's name or her face, only a pair of callused hands and the words Real ninjas show monsters who's boss.

And she'd never known a thing about her father. Her mother had died when she was still too young to remember much. So why was she so sure his name was Godo?

Okay, fine, she was maybe getting a little mixed up. Mixed up or not, she wasn't giving anybody's heart to Hades. That was probably a great way to get even more weird new Heartless.

So she read the book again, turned the pages as harshly as she could without ripping them. This thing was going to make sense if it knew what was good for it.

She stopped on a portrait of a young girl whose theme color seemed to be green. Her hair was so dark it gleamed green. Her eyes were green. Her skin was pale green.

She wore the same kind of peplos that Hades wore, only it was green, too. A crown of flowers crossed over her head, but had a loose end that touched the ground. Chains of flowers dangled from her wrists all the way to her feet.

Kore, the other page said, ye Maiden.

Well. Now they knew who the kid was. Probably.

So she turned back to Vincent's page. The Monster of Maleficent.

It couldn't be true. Vincent had gone to the Underworld when his own had been destroyed. Hadn't he? It wasn't like he'd have just gotten loose — or started hanging out with Maleficent — if he had gone there. So when would he have even had time to be brought low by hunger and ironn chaines?

The story wasn't fitting.

Yuffie closed the book. She shut her window without making a sound. The rooftops were quiet, almost completely free of Heartless.

The tiny house Vincent shared with Auron — and, for now, the fairies — was only a street over. Yuffie didn't bother with the door. Easier just to slide a thin wire into the gap between the window and the sill. Flexible wrists and a steady grip meant she soon heard the soft click of the lock.

The window gave a godawful groan when she opened it. She froze.

Something red stirred in the hallway beyond. Could have been Vincent or Auron, easily. But it was Vincent who jerked the window the rest of the way open, Fire glittering around his gauntlet.

"Yuffie," he said. "This house has a door."

"You can't just keep something that messed up to yourself," she found herself saying as she slipped in the window. "I've gotta know, Red."

"I've seen you use doors."

"I mean, seriously, you're right about it being pretty much insta-shady because it came out of Maleficent's castle. And it's not like you'd have had time to hang around with her if you were in the Underworld the whole time."

His face shuttered even more closed than usual. He didn't just look grim or expressionless. He looked like he wasn't even human. And not in the usual way, like the furries or the moogles. He could have been made of stone. Or some totally alien life form that had never even heard of emotions. Or a zombie. He probably was a zombie, come to think of it.

"Seriously. No joke. I've got to know. It's going to drive me crazy. Crazier. Way crazier. I mean it."

He gave her the High Overqueen We Are Not Amused By Your Motormouth Or Your Shenanigans, Also This House Has A Door look. She ignored it, because he really needed to learn that Yuffie Kisaragi, ninja extraordinaire, did not answer to Looks. Not even Squall's. Not even his.

"Don't trust the Book of Storied Names, Yuffie."

His voice was soft, matter-of-fact. As if he was talking about something that didn't matter.

So how did he know the title of that book if it wasn't written on the cover or the spine?

Vincent went still. Like he'd realized that he'd said something he shouldn't have, admitted to something.

"It's true, isn't it?"

He looked away. Like talking about his past was somehow hard for the guy who'd practically monologued all about it the day they met.

Except he hadn't monologued all about it the day they met. She didn't know a thing about him, except that he used to know Cloud and he spent some time in the Underworld. Why did she think he had?

"Yuffie."

The way he said her name — sharp, like she pissed him off, but with a weird gentleness — made her look up.

"Is this what you want to know?"

Yes. No. What she wanted to know was why stained glass reminded her of things and why she thought she knew him.

"You're saying there's more? What, do I only get one answer?"

He looked at her. For once, it wasn't the We Are Unamused look. It wasn't even a look she was sure she recognized. He looked old. Old and sad and resigned, like losing everything was a foregone conclusion. Like he didn't even deserve any better than that.

Which just made her want to shake him.

"Hey! I asked you a question!"

"Without answering mine." The resigned look became a level stare that pinned her where she was. He didn't need to say it for her to hear I see no reason to answer until you're sure of what you're asking.

Yuffie shook her head, cursing under her breath, but went back to the window.