She ordered a coffin all the way from Wutai. It was sturdy and wooden, and when she finally got to lay her hands on it she smiled wide and pulled out her phone. She called him, oh she called him at three in the morning, and it was too bad if he didn't like it. He breathed into the phone in such a way that made her remember he used to make his living killing people, but she told him anyway, she laid her head against the coffin and told him, You're gonna love me someday.

He hung up on her though, because he was a loser of course, and who actually slept at three am anymore? He was just a stiff old man, a stiff old man who'd changed his number five times now.

You'd think he'd learn.

It was raining outside when she went to the store and bought a red sweater for the fall and a red scarf for the winter, but because it was in the heady midst of summer, she bought a red bikini too. When she got home she put on the bikini, and snapped six pictures of herself. She posed with a watergun she'd found on sale, smiling when she sent each one to three-eight-six, nine-one-eight-four, which was currently her favorite sequence of numbers.

He didn't even call her.

So she called him, and he'd said that it was inappropriate, and not much else. Duh, it was inappropriate. But wasn't she hot?

Don't you think I'm hot? she asked, thinking maybe she should've paired the bikini with some shiny pointed shoes. His silence hurt a little, but she only sighed and told him, I'm just trying to understand you.

I don't understand you, she said . And when she said that, she'd never shown so much of her heart. The pretense of smiling vulgarity was easier to maintain, with a man like him.

It's not necessary that you understand, he said, stop calling my phone, he said.

She took an umbrella out wherever she went, wore long sleeves and trousers. In a month she was so white, she never felt so worthy of the 'single white rose' moniker that she'd only started hearing after saving the world.

A teenager who tripped over stupid, flowing gowns during ceremonies apparently wasn't worthy of an awesome name like that until she royally handed a famous General's ass to him so good, pieces of him were coming back for more.

She started working on getting a real gun, but you had to be twenty one to even get a permit. So she settled for the watergun, got real good at her aim. She took it everywhere she went. She was getting even better until Cloud confiscated it and told her that he didn't run a delivery business so that she could use the packages for target practice.

She didn't know what else they were good for.

At four am, she called him again and told him how naked she felt without her gun, and how much better her aim was when she put soda in it instead. He told her that a gun wasn't a toy, that she couldn't possibly equate the taking of a life to soda and boxes.

She said that either way, your hands would sticky and there'd be a great mess to clean up. But it was apparently a very unfunny joke.

She never held such an awful silence, and she felt she'd messed up so bad that all she could do was laugh hysterically. As she shook with laughter, she heard the click on the other end.

That night she cried pitifully into a large cup of soda, basking in self pity and her new very fashionable and somber paleness. But being pale and somber proved to be a chore she couldn't quite pull off with the same degree of hotness.

She realized that there was something at the core of him that she wasn't quite getting. And a couple hours later, on her way to bed she stubbed her toe on the coffin.

Serendipity slapped her right across the face.

So with renewed passion she bought some paint, hauling each bucket up the stairs into her apartment. She painted with care, a smiley face there, a white flower here, bursts of profanity where she deemed necessary.

She was so excited she was breathless. With reverence, she finished her inscription.

Here lies the awesomest ninja,

A bad ass white rose, with bad ass thorns,

And all that shit, that's awesome and bad ass.

She was so excited, she got her pillow and hopped in, too impatient to wait for the paint to dry.

Somewhere in the distance, maybe in coming dreams, she thought she could hear Vincent's voice. It had been a while since they'd spoken face to face, and it made her wonder how used she'd gotten to the steady cadence of his breathing, how annoyance manifested itself in the sexiest rasp early in the morning when she sipped her coffee and asked him stupid questions just to hear him speak.

She wondered if his pajamas were red, if he was actually morbid enough to be wearing that much red because of all the bloodshed he'd seen, all the bloodshed he'd caused and suffered.

None of it made sense to her. Why would anyone want to remind themselves of something like that? Sometimes Tifa would fold over and whisper something to Marlene, and Yuffie would see her own mother in that sweep of dark hair. He mother was beautiful, more beautiful than any kind of rose and she just…didn't think about things like that.

Strong people moved forward, weak people dwelled in the past. That was what her father said when she'd kept on balling all over her arithmetic months after her mother's death. And out of all the things he'd ever said, nothing had ever made more sense. It wasn't because he didn't care, he just wanted her to be strong.

She needed to be strong.

Yuffie.

So many people were going to need her to be strong. Thinking that though, she could almost feel a hand on her cheek, the gentle brush of long hair, all the things she'd ever pushed to the back of her mind. And suddenly she was laughing in that mad way, and crying in that sudden way, and then coughing so hard her throat was so raw, and her head hurt so much.

Yuffie, wake up.

You'll have to kiss me, she said, or thought, she didn't know. She felt her chest squeeze, and couldn't stop coughing.

You're making that very hard to do, Yuffie. And so she held her breath and waited. Opening her eyes, she saw that pale face, and all that dark hair.

Vincent. Vincent, I knew you'd come. Arms were reaching in for her and she couldn't wait, she pulled in down through the haze, and kissed him so hard for everytime he'd told her not to call. I told you so, she thought, I told you so.

"Yuffie! What in the world are you doing?" He was laughing, but no…it sounded like a woman and…oh god…ew…gross…

"Tifa?"

"Good to see you too Yuffie, I tried to call you…you know you're working at the bar today?"

"….Yeah, right. Forgot." As her vision cleared, she began to see Tifa's clearly feminine face. Tifa was silent for a few seconds.

"So, is there a reason you're sleeping in a coffin?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Tifa coughed.

"You should open some windows."

Later on at five in the morning, she called him again. But this time he didn't pick up. Not to be deterred, she called three more times. The fourth time she got his answering service she nearly slammed her phone down on the hook. But then halfway to the hook she stopped and pulled the phone back up to her mouth.

At the beep----You know, I kissed a girl because of you today. I slept in a coffin because of you, and you know what I don't even regret it because it was the most awesome coffin ever, it was so awesome that I got high in it, and I kissed Tifa. Bet you wish you would've been there to see it. Because it was hot. I mean, it was the perfect set up, and you missed it! I get it. There are corners that need to you sit in them and brood and look really hot, but you know what, I like the sun and I am gonna fill my gun with soda anyway, even if you can't take a stupid joke. I knew it was funny, and you know what else is funny? How I kissed Tifa today! It could've been you, but it's okay because I know things. I know that I'm the single white rose of Wutai, and my country is gonna rock like it never has before and I know that…I know that someday, you're gonna love me.

Whether you want to or not.---beep.