Liar Liar
By: Clan Dragoodle

She lied. So what? It's not as if she had any obligation to them – not as if they had to like her. They weren't her family, they weren't even her friends – or any remote consideration of the word. They were strangers, a rag-tag gang of mismatched buttons all sown on upside down and inside out on the tackiest sweater Shiva had ever created.

And what does that say about them?

Or her, more importantly?

That she was human. Sane. Which are completely different and independent concepts despite popular belief; Humanity and Sanity. She'd lied to them because she could rationalize it, not that she had some malicious intention to undermine them. She'd be much more blunt about their stupidity than simple lies. Words always spoke louder than actions in her case – but she's not normal. And if she thought their actions granted the use of a chided insult, believe me, she would have been the first one to vocalize it.

Like when Cloud thought it'd be a good idea to take Aeris on a date and not Tifa. She was the first to tell him what a fucktard he was; which though Tifa didn't say it, she whole-heartedly agreed with. Why? Well because Yuffie Kisaragi can read into these things.

She's magical.

Well perhaps that's taking it too far, but she is something – certainly not just a simple "liar." That did her no justice to the situation, and even though she didn't stand for justice on most instances, she certainly wasn't one to confuse titles. "Mischievous" and "stupid" were much better words than "liar."

Or at least, she thought so.

What exactly had she lied about? Well, at the moment it involved a rather large metallic cage that was oh-so conveniently hidden away in her ceiling till an oh-so convenient blonde pulled the lever. But somehow their anger steamed deeper then that she guessed, because they certainly were putting in an effort to chase her down and set her straight.

Or it could have just been for their Materia back.

But she'd like to pretend that it was more then that - that the tacky sweater collection of her mismatched family (friends) buttons were actually trying to extend a hand and help set her morality straight for future good they all saw in her. Trying to read into their obscene sign language as a hint of love they would carry for a child when scolding – Shiva knows her father played up that act.

As if!

Child abuse was looking more like a plausible demise in her current future – which was to suggest that she was doubting her ninja abilities as the blonde continued to uncover her. But maybe she wasn't trying to get away.

Maybe she wanted to be caught, and reprimanded, and scolded like a child so that someone could sit her down and make her pretend that someone actually cared what direction her morality took. Cause at the moment, a straight shot to the pavement seemed a reoccurring theme in her life, especially regarding moral values and her physical well being.

Because to her, it wasn't a lie of "friendship" or "trust," or any other heavy concept; it was a simple matter of being tricked, and her family was blowing this whole ordeal way out of proportion. Not her fault they were stupid enough to entrap themselves in a booby-trap of a sixteen year-old.

Some Planet saviors they were. She'd be betting her money on Sephiroth these days.

But, she never was good at gambling.

Eventually the bulky black man caught her, stringing her upside down and shaking her – because that seemed like the correct means to handle child to him. Which certainly explained why his daughter was so willing to leave her dad behind, or so Yuffie assumed. Things like that made sense to her.

"Damn you! You friggin' punk!"

He'd managed to bring her eye-level with his dark irises – impressive since she was upside down, which either meant that Barret either had abnormally long arms, or she was just unnaturally short. Either seemed plausible and it was probably more likely a combination of both. Such was the math of her life, which she was never good at.

"Whoa! Watch the morning breath, Buddy!"

She fanned her nose with a free hand, "It smells like ass. I told you Cloud wouldn't be into that sort of thing-"

"Why, you li'l shit!"

This is where he shook her a bit more and she proceeded to do more brain damage. Not like Cid's second-hand smoke wasn't doing enough, Barret had to one-up everyone.

"Barret, this is not going to get us anywhere…"

Vincent sounded bored of the situation, looking everywhere but at her.

"Get the Materia and dump her."

And that was probably what would have happened had the big grump's words been carried out to plan, but honestly – when did anything go as planned? In Yuffie's case, her get away by shoving three fingers into the bulky black-man's in-reach eyes went as planned. That was until a fat man-whore had her strung upside down on the face of a mountain.

She was starting to sense a pattern in her life.

At least with men and being upside down – and not even in the sexual way mind you. Well… not yet, but Corneo was gross. And while the blood rush to the head certainly wasn't putting either lady in good spirits for conversation, Yuffie was left back to her own thoughts; which was never a good place to leave a small child.

Corneo was now going into disturbing detail of what exactly stringing the girls upside down would accomplish, and the only thing it seemed short of was world domination. Apparently he hadn't gotten the memo that it was all the rage recently.

That was of course until the blonde showed up to save the day at the last possible (convenient) moment, in which the end result was a nasty stain of Corneo at the bottom of the Sacred Mountain. Cloud always did have class.

And now free of the ever-impending doom of being of the fair sex, Yuffie was left in the clutches of the scratchy family sweater; Barret's hand wrapped around the back of her head with Tifa's hands around her bicep. Escape was futile.

Especially when you don't try.

And in their march of scolding- in which Yuffie attempted everything from kicking to screaming and several bribes to the lung-cancer pilot – she ended upside down over the bulky black man's shoulder, glaring directly into Vincent.

"I hate. All. Of. You."

He merely nodded.

"We know."

Pants on fire.