A/N: Wow! Thanks for all your lovely reviews, guys! You have no idea how happy Nighty is! xD

So you can expect weekly updates from now on—at least, I'll really try. :) Oh, and as an aside, some of the pranks here in this fic are actually pranks that my friends and I have tried! xD

Keep those reviews coming, please! :D I love constructive critique! :)


Serah opened her eyes.

Warm sunlight filtered weakly into her bedroom, causing her lashes to flutter slightly in protest, hovering at the edges of her curtain as if requesting to be allowed inside.

Her eyes heavy with sleep, she lifted herself up onto her elbows and drowsily examined her vicinity. The place that Snow usually occupied beside her was empty.

For a brief moment, Serah was alarmed.

Oh, he probably just went to the bathroom or something...he'll be back soon.

Serah let her head fall back against the pillow, reassured, and curled up in the blankets. Her fiancé was a big boy; he could take care of himself.

Serah didn't know just how wrong she was.

xxXxx

It had been exactly two hours since the initiating bathroom incident.

Hope stealthily made his way down towards the kitchen, sliding carefully down the wall and periodically checking over his shoulder in a furtive manner.

However, considering he still had a blanket bound about his waist in order to conceal his too-short shorts, he didn't look very stealthy.

Hope was determined to exact his revenge upon Snow. He still fumed inwardly about the entire prank with the trousers. Snow had taken all of his pants and left him with little more than a size XXXL trousers and his dignity—and even that was rapidly diminishing.

He's probably laughing his head off about it right now....

Hope seethed silently, just thinking about it.

But, oh, was Snow going to get it.

It was April Fool's Day, wasn't it? The entire concept was to prank your friends and laugh at their reactions. If Snow could do something so horrible and inhumane as to steal all of his pants, Hope was therefore perfectly entitled to torture Snow in the exact same manner until April Fool's Day ended.

He stole silently into the dark, vacant kitchen, creeping towards the refrigerator.

Someone suddenly screamed from upstairs.

Hope jolted upwards, hitting his head on the shelf of jars above him. The jar of strawberry jam tottered unsteadily, and to his horror, unbalanced and rolled speedily towards the end of the shelf.

Oh, no! That's Serah's favorite jam flavor!

"N-no, no, NO!" Hope hissed, desperately racing towards the end of the shelf and thrusting out his hands. The jar serenely dropped off the shelf—conveniently landing in his hands.

"That was close—"

A tremendous crash of shattering glass resounded throughout the kitchen, abruptly cutting off Hope's statement as he accidentally tripped on the edge of his blanket.

Hope stared down in dismay at the glass scattered over the kitchen floor, as well as the lovely glop of strawberry jam wobbling in the center of the chaos.

Lightning's going to kill me. Not to mention what Serah's going to do...

Hope looked frantically about him for a dustpan and cloth with which to clear away the glass. Finding none, he knelt down and gingerly brushed a few shards of glass together into a small pile.

"OUCH!"

Wincing, Hope stuck his now-bleeding finger into his mouth and scanned the kitchen once more. It was then that he spotted the broom tucked into the corner between the back counter and the refrigerator.

Hope felt like hitting himself in the forehead at his apparent stupidity, but he refrained from doing so, and instead hurriedly ran to clear up the mess of shattered glass before someone came downstairs.

xxXxx

Vanille giggled as she watched Gadot fruitlessly attempt to straighten his hair, as he'd been doing for the past fifteen minutes. As of yet, they could identify no visible changes.

"Argh!" Gadot threw down Serah's flat iron and crushed fistfuls of his new curls in his massive hands in a fit of incompetent fury.

"I'm telling you," Fang said, watching from the door, "those curls of yours aren't going to leave for a long time."

"Now, Gadot," Snow said, attempting to reason with his friend, "it's all right. It'll probably be easier to fix by tomorrow."

"You mean I have to go through a whole day looking like this?!" Gadot roared hysterically, on the verge of tears. Snow winced at this potentially fatal mistake.

"No, of course not," he hastened to say. "We could, um—"

"Before Snow goes off on a self-glorifying spiel about his alleged omnipotence," Fang interrupted, "let me say just this, Gadot. Whoever styled your hair into these curls obviously meant them to last for a while. I mean, look at these!" She flicked a ringlet hanging over Gadot's left ear, shaking her head. "I'm sorry to say this, but these are going to be one heck of a problem to get rid of. And there is nothing anyone can do about it."

Gadot stared up at Fang, open-mouthed.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Fang said, lifting one shoulder apologetically. "But there's really nothing we can do until we give it some time."

Gadot's bottom lip trembled dangerously. A moment later, he flung himself down upon the vanity and broke down, bawling violently. The vanity sagged to one side, two of the delicate legs collapsing beneath the force of the man's weight.

"Couldn't you have thought about it before you'd spoken?" Snow hissed, glaring daggers at Fang.

Fang raised an eyebrow. "Look who's talking, Mr. Village Oaf. In any case, we can't coddle him. Better he gets used to the idea now than later."

"Yes, but—!" Snow gestured in frustration to his still-sobbing friend, hunched over the vanity.

Meanwhile, Vanille had skipped over to the vanity. After several moments of tilting her head and watching Gadot curiously, she gave the man an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

"See?" Snow gesticulated towards Vanille. "That's the way to do it, Fang."

At that moment, Vanille chose to chirp helpfully, "It's okay, Gadot. Hairstyling was never your forte, anyway!"

Gadot's vociferous blubbering increased in volume.

Fang snorted and rolled her eyes, striding towards the door. "Yeah, I'm going to leave you and your orange friend to hold a counseling session, then." She paused at the doorway, scornfully throwing out a hand. "You obviously can't listen to sense."

Snow leaped up. "Now, wait just a minute, you—!"

"Wait!" Vanille cried suddenly. Both Snow and Fang turned to look at her. "Where's Lightning?"

"What—?" Snow glanced around him. "She was here just a moment ago! Where'd she go?!"

"Hell if I know," sighed Fang, already on her way out the door. "But most likely she left to escape the pair of you."

Snow gritted his teeth together, but wisely decided to let the comment slide. "Well, go look for her, will you?" he called through the doorway. "Almost everyone is up already."

"Sure, sure, whatever." Fang paused and turned back towards the room. "Come on, Vanille! Let's go find Light."

"All right!" Vanille skipped cheerfully out of the room and bounced ahead of Fang down the hallway.

Fang chuckled and followed the younger girl. "You lead the way, Vanille."

"You know," Vanille said suddenly, stopping and twirling about to face her friend, "it just occurred to me. Why don't we just call Lightning? You know she always has her phone on. If we just called her, we wouldn't have to go running all over the whole house to look for her! And especially since...."

Vanille continued chattering on, but Fang didn't hear a single word.

An utterly heinous plan was already forming in the manically dark depths of her diabolical mind.

Phone...Lightning...phone...Lightning...

"Fang?" Vanille was staring at her inquisitively, tilting her head. "Hello!"

...prank.

A wicked, devious smirk slowly spread itself across Fang's face as her cogitation finally reached its conclusion.

"Oh, yes, Vanille....Let's call Lightning."

xxXxx

On the third floor, a door slowly creaked open.

A small figure crept out from behind the door and made its way quietly towards the stairs, moving in an odd toddling gait. A tinier figure soared out after it, flapping equally tiny wings by its shoulder.

Like two shadows, the unidentifiable forms stole towards the stairs. The first figure grabbed the banister and tottered slowly down the steps, while the second zoomed on ahead, zipping back occasionally to accompany its partner.

Who were these two mysterious figures? An April Fool's Day demon, perhaps, with an accomplice, come to stir up some mischief?

...Not quite.

"Come on!" whispered Dajh, motioning to the chocobo chick. "While Daddy's still asleep!"

The chocobo, perching on the banister, cocked his head sideways and leaped off, cheeping as he fluttered after the little boy.

Climbing all these stairs was hard work for a little boy. Dajh had to keep stopping every so often to give his short little legs a break as he toddled his way down the two long flights of steps.

However, he was enormously proud of himself. Dajh had managed to sneak out from his bedroom without Daddy noticing! He'd managed to sneak out with Chocobo without anyone noticing!

He was a master spy, now!

Dajh was so excited. Only the other day, Snow had carried him all about the house and told him that he had the makings of a true NORA fighter. Then Lightning had started yelling at Snow, something about "stop trying to corrupt innocent kids into becoming your lackeys!", and she'd called him a "bumbling oaf."

Dajh thought that was hilariously funny.

Then Lightning had told Dajh to never, ever listen to Snow, and not to spend too much time with Team NORA. Snow had gotten very mad, and he and Lightning had gotten into a shouting match.

But then again, Snow and Lightning were always getting into shouting matches. And if Lightning wasn't yelling at Snow, she was yelling at Fang.

Dajh had asked Serah once why Lightning was always being mad at Snow. Serah had just shaken her head and told him that it was "very complicated" before quickly leaving. Dajh didn't understand.

Then he had had the brilliant idea of asking Lightning herself. Surely Lightning would be able to explain why she was always being mean to Snow?

...What had followed was a three-hour-long tirade composed entirely of Lightning ranting on about how she considered Snow an "embarrassment" and an "idiot", and if it weren't for Serah's pleas, he wouldn't be marrying her sister at all.

Dajh fell asleep for most of it, but he did remember Lightning raging for a long time about how her sister would be changing her name from "Serah Farron" to "Serah Villiers."

...Right.

Dajh still didn't understand.

Oh well. Maybe it was one of those things that everyone said he would understand when he was older.

Shaking his head quizzically, Dajh continued waddling down the stairs.

Before long, he reached the first floor, where he proceeded to toddle rapidly down the hall, the chocobo chick fluttering after him.

Oh boy, oh boy! Now Dajh could finally become a brave adventurer just like Daddy and the others! Now he could set out on a quest and save the world, just like Snow said he was always doing (although Lightning would only get angry at him again), and everyone would be so proud of him! Now he could fight a big Pulse monster like the ones Aunt Fang and Auntie Vanille were always telling him about, and there would be no one to stop him! Now he could...he could—

...Dajh was hungry.

The little boy paused in the middle of the hall. This was something that he hadn't anticipated.

...He could always get back to his quest later.

So Dajh took a detour from his journey and cheerily bounced into the kitchen in search of food, the chocobo twittering from his perch in his hair.

Upon entering the kitchen, Dajh suddenly noticed the blanket-cloaked lump crouched in the middle of the floor, creeping across the boards.

Dajh's eyes widened, and his gaze followed the movement of the strange creature sneaking about in his kitchen.

It was creeping...it was crawling....

It was...it was—it was a monster!!

Dajh gasped and huddled against the wall, his little six-year-old mind working furiously. There was a big scary monster hiding in his kitchen! He had to go tell Daddy and Lightning!

But wait! What if he defeated the monster on his own, he and Chocobo, and brought it back to Daddy and Lightning? Wouldn't they be proud of him? They would know that Dajh was big and strong enough to be a fighter just like them!

Cautiously, Dajh poked his head around the side of the wall, wide-eyed. The chocobo peeped over his shoulder.

The monster was shuffling around the kitchen, muttering to itself. Dajh quickly withdrew his head and crouched down.

Snow always said that real heroes didn't need plans. But Lightning always said that was stupid—and so was Snow. However, Dajh needed a plan, now. He didn't have Snow's advantage of immense brawn and muscle, or Lightning's experienced cunning.

...He did have, however, the element of surprise.

Yes! That was it! He had to scare the monster! Then the monster would run away, and Dajh would be a hero!

Dajh peeked at the monster once more. He glanced over his shoulder at Chocobo, who now perched there, waiting eagerly for his orders.

Dajh held up four fingers.

"One...two...three!! CHARGE!!!!"

At once, toddler and chocobo dashed straight into the kitchen, screaming a fierce war cry....well, in Chocobo's case, cheeping. Dajh leaped straight onto the monster's back and began pummeling its head with his fists, while the chick pecked mercilessly at the monster's ears.

"Die! Die! Die!" Dajh chanted.

"OWWWW!!" yelled the monster. "HEY!!! STOP IT!!!!"

"Hope?!" Dajh immediately clambered off the "monster's" back. "Uncle Hope, is that you?!"

"Yes!" grumbled the teen, standing up and painfully clutching his shoulder. "You've torn me to shreds!"

"Sorry, Uncle Hope!" chirped Dajh, the chocobo returning to his afro. "I thought you were a monster!"

"What...?" Hope shook his head, deciding not to pursue that line of conversation. "Never mind. Just—what in the name of Etro are you doing out of bed?"

Dajh beamed up at him.

"I'M BEING A HERO!!" the six-year-old proclaimed proudly, puffing out his chest. The chick trilled what sounded like a victory call.

"...Uh-huh. That's nice, Dajh." Hope cautiously edged around him and attempted to reach the refrigerator. However, the toddler was standing directly in his path. "Um, Dajh, do you think you could...uh, move?"

But Dajh wasn't paying any attention. He reached forward and curiously prodded Hope in the leg.

"Uncle Hope, why are you wearing a dress today?"

"What—? I'm not wearing a—"

Hope looked down at himself and remembered that the blanket was still tied about his waist. Inwardly uttering curses of frustration, he reached forward, grabbing for the handle of the freezer and missing.

"Dajh, please, could you move?"

"You look very silly in a dress!" Dajh giggled.

Hope groaned. "It's not a dress. It's a blanket. Now, please...?"

"Okay!" Dajh happily hopped aside.

Hope sighed in relief. "Thank you, Dajh."

He opened the freezer and reached inside, fumbling around all the other items of food for the secret weapon that he'd placed for preparation at the very back. His fingers closed around the object and he pulled out—

...a toothbrush cup holder filled with frozen water.

With several toothbrushes frozen in it.

"Hope?" Dajh was staring innocently up at him. "Why did you freeze the toothbrushes?"

"I need it for—uh, something." Now having retrieved what he'd come for, Hope took the lid from his shirt pocket, capped the holder, and turned to exit the kitchen.

"But they're going to be cold!" Dajh's high-pitched protest rang through the house. Hope froze.

"Sssh!" he hissed to Dajh. "Be quiet! Listen, I froze the toothbrushes for a reason. I'm going to play an April Fool's Day prank on Snow, and that's because he took all my pants. That's the reason why I'm wearing a blanket right now! So don't say a word, okay?"

Dajh blinked up at him.

"Okay!"

Hope let out a sigh of relief, patted Dajh's head, and left the kitchen.

Dajh remained standing in the middle of the floor, his nose screwed up in concentration.

He still didn't get why Hope had frozen the toothbrushes. The poor toothbrushes were going to be cold! What if they were still freezing when they woke up? Dajh was very worried.

Wait...

Was Hope mad at Snow, too?!

...Now Dajh really didn't understand.

xxXxx

Lightning leaned against her bedroom door, hearing the latch click securely shut. Breathing the deepest of relieved sighs, she slid down to the floor. She allowed her head to loll back, exhaling softly.

She'd taken the first possible chance to escape from the group while everyone had been in an uproar over Gadot's new coiffure. She knew that Serah loved Snow, but honestly, how could someone be as much of an idiot as he was?

She swore, if she'd hadn't left the group as quickly as possible, Gadot wouldn't have been the only one sporting a new makeover.

She honestly couldn't see what her younger sister saw in him, at all.

Ring ring ring!

Lightning jumped a little as she felt her cell phone, contained in the red leather pouch strapped to her thigh, vibrate against her leg. She fumbled with the buckles, surprised, and extracted her phone, flipping it open as her ringtone played over and over again.

She didn't recognize the number, but then again, only her housemates and Lieutenant Amodar had her phone number. It was unlikely that the latter would be calling at eight in the morning; logically, it should be one of the others.

And Lightning was not in the mood to speak to any of them at that moment.

The phone continued to ring, humming in her hand.

Oh, what heck.

Lightning accepted the call and lifted the phone to her ear. "What?" she snapped into the phone.

A short pause.

"Lightning...?"

The voice was deep, husky, masculine. Lightning frowned, unable to match up the voice with anyone she knew.

"Who is this?"

Another pause.

"...Cid."

Lightning's eyes widened, and a silent gasp slipped from her lips. Slowly, she stood up, placing one hand against the door for support. "Cid?" she managed, grateful that her voice maintained its usual sternness when she'd felt like she'd been hit by a stampeding chocobo.

"Cid. Cid Raines. You remember me?"

"Cid. How...?" Lightning tried to clear her thoughts. "You...you sound a little different."

"It's me, Light."

"How—how the hell did you get my number?!"

"Eh...Snow gave it to me. Said he thought it might be good for me to speak to you."

That idiot buffoon. I should have guessed.

Lightning seethed inwardly, but outwardly, she retorted, "So? What do you have to say?"

"Lightning...I wanted to say I was sorry. For everything."

Oh, Etro.

"Is that so? Maybe you'd like to apologize for how you betrayed everyone, Raines." She'd left the pain of Cid's betrayal in the past, but his voice on the phone suddenly brought back every stab of treachery in the flesh, in cold, cruel clarity.

"Lightning...I know it may be hard for you to understand...but I really am sorry. To you, and to everyone. And...."

His voice hesitated.

"And?" Lightning's voice was firm and coldly professional.

"Lightning...I...."

His voice filtered through the phone, uncertain and cautious. Lightning closed her eyes. Through the silence that pervaded their conversation, she heard the faintest sound of someone giggling.

Her eyes snapped open.

"Raines? What was that?"

"Oh...that was..."

The giggling sound amplified, and Lightning's eyes went wide with shock as she heard a feminine voice whisper over the phone, "This is so mean of you, Fang!"

"Shush, Vanille! She might hear—"

"FANG?!" bellowed Lightning, instantly enraged.

"Oh, crap!"

"FANG!!!" Lightning was up on her feet now, roaring directly into the phone. "YOU FAL'CIE-CURSED DEMON!!! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU IN THE WORST IMAGINABLE WAY POSSIBLE AND HANG UP YOUR DEAD BODY OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM DOOR!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME?!!! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!!! I'M GOING TO—"

Click.

Your call has ended.

Lightning was left staring at her phone, wide-eyed with fury, breathing heavily.

"AARRGH!"

She dashed the phone violently to the floor, where it skittered beneath her bed as if terrified.

Slowly, Lightning turned to face the door. The room seemed to instantaneously darken as thunderbolts of fury gathered in her ominous eyes, crackling with wrathful energy.

Lightning would not let this rest. She vowed to avenge herself for this cruel insult—and she would do it in the most vicious method conceivable.

"This means war, Fang," she snarled. "This means war."

xxXxx

Fang snickered as she disconnected the phone. Having achieved the desired culmination, she mentally patted herself on the back for her newfound skills in mimicry. Then she gave herself another mental pat on the back for winning the "Best Prank" Award in advance.

Yes, Lightning was now ticked-off as hell. But her reaction was so hilarious, Fang was quite content to let Lightning throw her revenge in return. And she knew exactly what Lightning had said.

"Bring it on, Farron," she said, smirking.