My home has a heartbeat.

        The expedition had been a great success. Sitting on the floor of the inn's kitchen, Nanaki couldn't but drool as he watched Rook carefully measure ingredients. A pound of bonemeal, a quarter-cup of fiber. They mixed this along with the ten pounds of meat they'd purchased and several pounds of fat in an industrial bucket, since there was too much to fit in any normal mixing bowl. They'd rolled up their sleeves above the elbows, stirring with a sturdy garden trowel they'd purchased specifically for the task. The tiniest whimper escaped Nanaki as he licked his chops impatiently. "I'm almost done," Rook assured him. "Do you want me to try to find something a little more dignified to serve it in?"

      "It doesn't really matter," he replied, with perhaps more urgency than he intended.

      "Alright, then." They gestured invitingly towards the bucket. "Dinner is served."

      Nanaki lunged at the food and began devouring it at an alarming rate. With a small smile of satisfaction, Rook turned to the sink to wash their hands. "Nanaki, please slow down. I don't want you to make yourself sick."

      He growled but visibly slowed his pace. Satisfied, Rook began chopping up the assortment of herbs they'd purchased earlier. The next recipe took only a short time to complete, and they had it plated by the time Nanaki finished his own food and had commenced washing his face like a cat. "Before you leave," Rook addressed him, "would you kindly use that amazing nose of yours to help me find Vincent?"

      "Of course," he replied with a note of pride. "He's not far off, actually. Follow me."

        Sniffing out Vincent's location was a simple task for Nanaki. The former turned out to be at the rocket launch site, perched in the support beams. Though the two approached openly, Vincent acted as though he had not noticed them, gazing off into space as though lost in thought. "Rook has a gift for you," Nanaki announced.

      Now Vincent looked down at the duo in mild surprise. "A gift?" he repeated.

      Rather than elaborate, Nanaki nonchalantly strolled away, leaving Rook standing there holding a plate. "I made you something to eat," they said, their voice soft with uncertainty.

      In a fluid motion Vincent rose. He stepped off his perch into the air, landing neatly. He drew closer and inspected their offering. The dish was nearly black in color, and in texture was somewhere between a pancake and a hamburger patty. A garnish of parsley leaves adorned the side of the plate. "What is it?" he asked.

     "Sanquette - pig's blood cooked with persillade sauce, sans garlic…um, just in case." They shifted their weight from foot to foot. "Um, does that sound like something you could eat?"

      He gave a single nod. "Yes, I could eat that. Sounds fancy. What's the occasion?"

      "No occasion." Rook's gaze fell away and to the side. "I just…thought you might like a change of pace from…however you usually consume blood."

      Vincent stared at them for so long that they began to squirm, only able to look at him from the corner of their eye. "Did I mess something up?" they asked.

      "…No," he said at length.

      He did not elaborate, but it was clear there was something he was not telling them. "What is it, then?" they pressed him.

      Vincent tucked his forefinger against his chin, considering. After another painfully long silence he said slowly, "My diet is not restricted to blood alone."

      Rook paled, eyes widening. "You…it's not?"

      He shook his head. They opened their mouth, closed it, reconsidered a second time, then asked in a very small voice, "So you're…um…are you not a vampire, then?"

      Something akin to amusement flashed briefly in Vincent's eyes. "I am not."

      "Oh," they said in an even smaller voice. "I… thought…with the whole coffin thing and… I feel very, very stupid now. I'm sorry. I, um, I'll just. Be going, then."

      They turned to walk away. Vincent's cape swirled as he stepped around them in the blink of an eye, cutting off their path and making them jump slightly. He relieved them of the plate and fork, cut a small morsel, and ate it, chewing slowly to savor the taste. Rook stood paralyzed, looking like they wanted to sink into the floor. Almost reluctantly, Vincent swallowed. "This is delicious. Thank you for preparing it for me."

      He ate another bite, and another, as Rook tried to get their brain reconnected to their mouth. "You…you really like it? Um, you're not…offended or anything?"

      "I like it very much," he replied between mouthfuls. "And I am not offended in the slightest. To the contrary, I appreciate that you went to such lengths to provide for me."

      Rook's shoulders dropped as though a great weight had suddenly been lifted. "Oh, I'm so glad to hear that!"

      Vincent ate another bite, then said, "Your misconception was not altogether ill-founded. I could easily forgive it."

      His specific choice of wording did not escape Rook's attention. "You 'could'…?"

      He ate the last remaining bites of the dish and handed the plate back to them. "I could…if you were willing to let me try more of your cooking."

      At this Rook lit up as though a switch had been thrown. "Really? I mean, yeah, sure, of course! Is there anything in particular you'd like me to make?"

      Vincent inclined his head slightly in thought. Then he asked, "Are you familiar with the dish sanguinaccio dolce?"

      Some of the light dimmed from their visage. "I haven't, but I can find a recipe. 'Dolce'…is it a dessert?"

      "It is indeed," he said. "It's a sweet pudding made primarily of chocolate and blood. Supposedly the blood gives the dish a rich, velvety texture. I would very much like to try it for myself, if it's not too much trouble."

      Rook blinked several times, peering at him to try to determine whether he was serious. Finding no evidence for either case, they uttered a short, bewildered laugh. "Hah, alright, then. I'll…I'll make it happen."

      Although Vincent never smiled, some of the sharpness in his eyes softened for a moment. "Thank you for the unexpected treat. I look forward to the next."

      With that he turned. His cape streamed behind him like a crimson comet tail as he leapt back up to his perch among the support beams. Rook interpreted this as an indication they should likewise take their leave. "You're welcome," they said quietly, knowing he likely couldn't hear them but probably wouldn't appreciate them shouting it at him.

      Empty plate in hand, Rook returned triumphant to the inn's kitchen. There they found the bucket in which they'd prepared Nanaki's meal now licked spotless. Nanaki himself was dozing on the floor beside the fireplace. He stirred and lifted his head as Rook entered. "Well? How'd your other dish go over?"

      Rook began washing the plate and fork in the sink. "He liked it. He made a request for the next meal. And that was despite me making a fool of myself." They sighed. "Am I the only idiot who thought he was a vampire?"

      Nanaki snorted. "You thought he was a vampire? Vampires aren't real."

      Grabbing a towel, Rook dried the dishes and then their hands. "Yeah, but respectfully, we have two talking animals on our team. My metric for what would actually be weird has been totally thrown off."

      "Cait Sith is not an animal, he's a robot," he retorted.

      They shot him a Look. "My point stands."

      He diverted the conversation. "What did he ask for next?"

      "A blood pudding dessert," they replied. "I truly cannot tell whether he was joking. I don't think he jokes. So I'm going to make it for him."

      Nanaki's tail swished across the floor. "Does that mean you're going back to the butcher shop?"

      Crossing the room, they reached down to him, and when he lifted his head into their hand they ruffled his ears fondly. "First thing in the morning."

      "Can I come with you again?" he asked. "To keep you company."

      "Oh, is that why you want to go? I thought it might have something to do with the handouts the butcher gave you when we stopped by earlier today."

      He shook his head. "My motivations are purely altruistic…but I'll accept handouts if they happen to be presented."

      "Good," said Rook. "After all, you're a growing lad. You need all the extra calories you can get."

      "Exactly," he agreed.

      “Naturally,” Cait replied, and Reeve knew even without being able to see that his diminutive creation was striking a pose. “After all, every side is my good side!”

      They laughed, a heartfelt and musical sound. “True, true!” the artist agreed. 

      It had been a while since Reeve had heard a person laugh in genuine happiness rather than malice. The sound stirred something inside him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Now, how can I pay ye for your work?” Cait was musing as he pretended to search his furry little body for pockets that weren’t there. “I know! How about I read your fortune?” 

      The artist inclined their head, curious. Reeve noticed there was a green pencil tucked behind their ear, standing out in contrast with their dull brown hair. “Oh, yes please!” they said. “I’ve never had my fortune told before. It really alright? I'm not a guest, after all - I work in the Chocobo stables.”

      “O’ course it’s alright!” Cait chirped. “One fortune comin’ right up!”

      A familiar whirring and the ding of a bell followed, and the artist bent to accept the patterned paper that Cait offered. They read it aloud: “Your soulmate is closer than you think." Again they laughed, softly this time. "Oh my gosh, that's so cute. Are you a romantic, Cait Sith?"

      Reeve could tell that Cait had adopted another theatrical pose, most likely with a paw over where his heart would be. "Aye, and a hopeless one at that!"

      A different beeping could be heard then, this one coming from the artist's pocket. Their face fell as they pulled out their phone to silence the alarm. "Man, I gotta get back to work. Thank you again for the reading. Seriously, you made my day."

      "You're most welcome!" he replied. "Before ye go, could I get your signature on this lovely artwork of yours?"

      "Absolutely," they said with a fond smile.

      He handed their sketch back to them. They took the pencil from behind their ear and used their sketchbook as a hard surface to sign their name on the paper. When they returned it, Cait announced them aloud. "Rook! Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you, Rook! I hope to see you around the Saucer again!"

      "The pleasure's mine," they replied sincerely. "I hope to see you again, too."

      The video ended there. Reeve realized to his surprise that he was smiling. Truly, Cait was a little beacon of light in the darkness surrounding him. Now he had something to look forward to upon retrieving Cait - obtaining that drawing, Cait's first "fan art". It would be nice to display it in his office, he decided, as a little reminder of someone appreciating his creation, a small positive impact he'd made.