the unfortunate life of "Leon" Leonhart
He turned the corner and he noticed that Sora was no longer following him.
"Damnit," he growled. Yuffie often accused him of growling – according to her, once upon a happier time he was a happy boy who only ever growled at people who picked on his sister.
Where was his sister?
Where was Sora?
"Damn," he growled. He had let himself walk his way into Third District. He was always letting his feet take him places he didn't especially want to go. People used to call him Legs (short for Crazy Legs). He hadn't been the most popular kid on earth. Not like Yuffie – Yuffie had been really popular, a Queen Bee. Her smile was probably what did it. Thinking about it, Yuffie probably didn't like him back then – she was just forced to put on that smile and act friendly what with the strong tie between their families, one formed some four hundred years ago during the Bastion Wars.
She liked him now though. He was almost ninety-seven percent sure. Maybe it was because he was a different person though. He wasn't Squall anymore. Crybaby Squall. Squally Squall. They used to say that his parents named him Squall because he cried so much. So he'd go and sit in a corner of the playground to cry.
He must've had a few friends though. He was sure he did. Maybe they only liked him because he was rich.
He'd been rich. That's right. He and his sister used to take riding lessons on golden chocobos with big eyes, and they would play in a massive garden with a labrynth that his sister once lost herself in. He went to save her with a decorative machete taken from the wall of one of the many corridors in their house. He remembered his sister used to paint all the time; on walls and tables and desks and easels and canvasses and beautiful, beautiful swirling, spiraling, swishing...
Where was his sister?
Where was Sora?!
"Damnit!" Where was he? He looked around. Second District. He hadn't wandered too far then. But there was still no sign of Sora. "Sora!" No reply. Wait three seconds. No reply. "Sora Ketchum!" No reply. Wait five seconds. No reply. Panic.
Don't panic. He'd trained for this sort of situation. Just go back to the beginning; the hotel. It wasn't too far away. The beginning. That was a long way away. Was it when people first let darkness into their hearts? Or when Ansem (the "Wise") began messing about with things beyond his control? When the people started panicking and dying? Was it when Cid rescued him from the smouldering ruins of his house; a small, crying, confused little boy?
Was it when his sister had gotten sick?
The hotel.
He looked at the paintings, fingered the delicate flicks and crosses of the strokes of a paintbrush. When he had taken the Survival lessons, all those years ago, he had never thought he would need it. He had thought it would help him boost his confidence, help him find his way in the world. He liked the strict, emotionless instructors because they showed him that you don't have to be smiley and popular.
They taught him not to be weak and they taught him not to cry.
Where was he?
He was at home, reading a book about different types of knots and his little sister was trying to show him her paintings. He told her he didn't care and that knots were more important anyway. She stamped her little foot, but didn't cry like he knew he would've done, and stalked off, leaving the paintings on the table next to him.
He touched the painting again and heard the old paper crinkle beneath his finger.
"Squall!"
"It's Leon."
"What are you doing? I thought you were meant to be going after the heartless with Sora!"
"Damnit."
"You growl too much. You know, you used to be a happy boy who only growled when people picked on your..."
"I know, I know, let's go, shall we?"
I always did wonder what happened to Leon when Sora ran off and he disappeared... Oh, and if you're wondering, this is the bit where you first meet Leon and Yuffie and then Leon's like "Forget about the smallfry!" cause he thinks he's cool and is allowed to say "smallfry".