A.N.: Ages have been tampered with- Yuffie and Denzel are both 16 in this story. Other than that, nothing has changed.
Disclaimer: If I owned FF7, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction. So, in case you haven't figured it out, I don't own it. Neither do I own the song or book I quote in this chapter.

"I wanna see you playing on the living room floor" –Play, Krooked K

Denzel was in his element; ignoring Tifa and playing video games, at the same time. He practiced often.
"Denzel, Yuffie's going to come soon. I want you to socialize, okay? I know you two didn't get along well last time, but you're older now, right? Denzel! Oh, why do I bother with you?" She said, ruffling his hair fondly.
Denzel didn't notice. He was trying to beat a record. His, but still, what was the point of setting records if you didn't beat them later? It was more fun that way. So, in continuous, blissful concentration, he twiddled around with his thumbs and the joysticks- green, his favorite color- until, suddenly, his world was invaded by a goddess.
Okay, not a goddess, but close enough.
He didn't remember her as gorgeous. Heck, he'd been too pissed off by her to think of her as vaguely pretty. But now, taken by surprise, he actually almost dropped his controller.
"TIIIIIIIIIIIIIFAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I'M HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE!" The almost-goddess squealed (so she did still do that, but now it was cute), hugging the brown-eyed bartender energetically. Once she pulled free, She bounced on her toes, (a clear sign that she was currently very, very much hyper) and looked around for someone else to shower with bursting affection. Then, the big (really big, with lashes as black as her pupils and long like shoelaces- okay, maybe not shoelaces…) brown eyes saw him, and then sparkled with energy as she practically tackled him. "DENZEL! Oh my god, it's been, like, forever!" Apparently, the expression "ninjas never forget" was false. They weren't supposed to actually like each other. Last time, he'd ended up pulling her hair, and she'd left him on the ground for three minutes clutching at his- well, let's just say she kicked him pretty hard where it counted. So being hugged by Yuffie was a new experience, and not an altogether unpleasant one.
"Hi, Yuffie." Brilliant, Denzel, brilliant. Just oh-so clever. They'll be quoting you for ages on that.
"Jeez, are you depressed or something? Put some ENERGY into it! EXCLAIM your sentences! And turn that game off, you're getting mauled. Plus, it's very impolite to play video games while talking. You'd think you were brought up by Vinnie- well, I suppose Mr. Mopey-Dopey Cloud isn't much better. Seriously, though, have you ever timed one of their phone conversations? It's like, 'Hey, Cloud, I need help.' 'Be right there'. CLICK. I guess it does save them on the phone bill, but…" Ranting. She was famous for that. Talking to Yuffie was nearly effortless if you could stand the rants. You didn't even need to say anything. You just nodded once or twice, smiled, and listened to her blurt out whatever she was thinking at the moment. Obligingly, he switched off his game, partly for her sake, and partly because he did kind of want to listen. For once. But it was hard, even though the game was off. Other things distracted him now; her hands waving around to emphasize, her eyes locked on his while she spoke, her lips moving. Mostly her lips moving.
This was definitely going to be a long day.

"There were guys at soccer camp, as it turned out. There was one guy. No, there was more than one guy, but for Bridget, at that moment, there was one guy." -Sisterhood of the traveling pants, Anne Brashares.

Oh MY GOD. That was all she could think. She was babbling, and she knew it. He was staring at her, and he probably thought she was a psychopath. Why, why, WHY did he have to grow up and become- well…DAMN HOT.
Seriously, who would have guessed? Okay, that was unfair, he'd been an okay-looking kid, but WHOA, where the hell did that come from? His hair, his eyes…his eyes. Honestly, did Shiva really, really have it in for her, or was she just really, really stupid? I mean, only a retard would fall in love –at first sight, I mean, COME ON, it's not like this was Shakespeare or crap like that- with the very same guy that, the very last time she saw him, kicked him in the testicles and, laughing, watched him writhe on the ground for 3 minutes with vengeful glee?
She fervently hoped he didn't remember that. Very, very fervently. But she was still hugging him. He felt tense, probably because, as she'd previously mentioned, he thought she was a psychopath. He was also kind of muscle-y. Ooh, what if he trained with Cloud? She made a mental note to find out, and, if that was the case, find a way to WATCH, damnit.
He smelt like typical boy, minus the disgusting stuff, like sweat and- well, you know…
Also, he had formidable boylashes. Stupendous. Vinnie's word. And a nice mouth. Really nice. If she was feeling really impulsive, she probably would have leaned over and kissed that mouth, because it was just that nice-looking. He looked kind of surprised, though, like he expected her to slap him or something. Then again, maybe that was not altogether presumptuous, because last time, she had slapped him, and on a regular basis, too. Jeez, couldn't little Yuffie have behaved, so big Yuffie didn't have to start off on the wrong foot (which she did enough as it was) with a really hot guy?
Life was just SOOO unfair.