Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are McCallister and Duke.

Ugh, school is chipping away at my soul. This chapter took an ungodly amount of time to write…I blame the education system…and the fact that it's been raining in my neck of the woods for three weeks straight…Stupid weather. Anyway, we're hitting the ground running in this chapter. Enjoy!

..:-X-:..

Chapter Two: Unidentified

The apartment was dark when Tifa dragged herself through the front door. Boxes were piled where they had been left half-packed for the past month. She maneuvered through the mess and nearly wiped out on the couch as she made her way to her room.

She was still on Olympus Time, which was approximately eight hours earlier than Radiant Garden Time. Hence why she was still wide awake and it was—she squinted at the clock on the wall—nearly five o'clock in the morning.

Merlin's place had been a madhouse when she walked past, so she had decided not to check in with the Restoration Committee until tomorrow. Honestly, what in the world could be going on this late at night, er, early in the morning? Whatever.

The gunblade was leaning against the wall and Leon's keys were on the kitchen counter, so she didn't bother looking to see if he was home. He was probably crashed from the double patrols he had pulled over the past two days. She just hoped he had landed on the bed and not split his skull on the floor.

Too awake to consider sleep at this point, she fixed a mug of coffee and settled herself on the couch in the living room. She opened her laptop and turned it on. While waiting for it to boot, she sipped at her coffee and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes.

Before the flood of 'what ifs', 'maybes', and other ugly little thoughts could creep toward her, she lifted her head and leaned sideways, flicking on the lamp on the end table. The dim yellow glow lit the coffee table and half of the couch, just so she wouldn't have to squint.

Spotting the chess board beside her computer, she tilted her head and sat forward, setting her coffee aside and peering at the pieces. One of her bishops had been taken. She clucked her tongue as she analyzed the board for a moment, and then moved her white knight to D6, blocking his pawn from taking one of her rooks without being taken by the knight.

It was the most she and Leon had communicated in the better half of a week.

Shaking her head at that, she faced her computer again and opened the writing program to work on the report with the closest deadline. She didn't want to even think about writing the Olympus report…God only knew what Yuffie would put in hers.

So she wrote about last week's mission in Neverland instead.

Two pages later, it felt like she had barely been at it when the phone rang, loud and obnoxious. She caught the phone in the middle of the first ring, sliding it between her ear and her shoulder without breaking her eyes from the text on the computer screen. "Hello?"

"Tifa." Aerith sounded breathless and pitchy.

"Hey," Tifa greeted, pausing her fingers on the keyboard, "Are you okay? You sound—"

"Where's Leon?"

"He's—"

"I need to speak with him immediately."

Aerith's normally calm, level voice had a tone of urgency to it that got Tifa's attention. Frowning, she leaned back in her seat and looked across the living room through Leon's bedroom door. It was five am, and he had gotten off shift at four. Unless someone was dying, she really didn't want to wake him.

"He's asleep." She answered, eyes wandering back to the living room.

"Wake him up." Aerith was nearly squeaking now.

"What's wrong?" Tifa asked, but then the phone beeped, "I've got another call coming in."

"That's what I'm calling about. It's—"

"Aerith, hold on for just a minute." She assured. It would only take a minute to tell the other caller that it was a bad time, and then she'd finish calming Aerith down.

"But—"

Tifa clicked the line to the other call, "Hello?"

No response.

"Hell-oo?" She tried again, preparing to terminate the line.

"…Squall?"

It was a soft, higher pitched voice, but the tone gave her pause.

"Hello?" Tifa asked again.

"Er…Hello." The woman on the other end greeted lightly. "Is Squall there?"

Tifa narrowed one eye at the phone with a sigh. She didn't know any 'Squall' character.

"No, I'm sorry. I think you have the wrong number." She said.

A confused beat, "Oh, this isn't…" The other end rattled off the phone number.

Tifa frowned, "That's right, but I don't know any—"

"Squall Leonhart? The flowergirl from the square told me he lived here."

Leonhart? Tifa eyebrow shot up and she looked toward Leon's bedroom door again. He hadn't moved, splayed on his stomach in bed. Dead to the world. She didn't know if he had any living relatives…Then again, she knew he had changed his name…though it was long before she had met him.

"Squall Leonhart?" Tifa tilted her head. There was a grunt of movement in Leon's room, but she didn't look over. "I'm sorry…Who is this?" She asked, looking into the living room again.

"Oh! Sorry." The other voice chattered. "You probably think I'm some crazy person."

The thought did cross my mind, Tifa thought, but didn't say anything.

"This is Rinoa. Rinoa Heartilly. I was hoping—"

The phone kept talking, but all of the blood drained from Tifa's upper body, joining her insides on the floor. This…No, she had misheard. Surely…That…this wasn't possible…

"—and it HAS been nearly 12 years, so…Oh, geez, he doesn't think I'm dead, does he?" The woman…Rinoa…was chattering on. "Hello? Are you still there?"

"Sorry." Tifa said, barely above the whisper, eyes wide and stomach churning.

"Good." A little chuckle on the other end of the line. "Does Squall live with you? Wait…who is this? Do you know who I'm talking about?"

But Tifa heard little else as her stomach lurched. She lunged for the trash can and abruptly threw up. The phone stayed in her hand, but her knuckles around it were white. When she lifted her face out of it, trembling and in shock, she saw that Leon had lifted his head up and was looking at her. And then the reality crashed into her and she nearly got sick again.

As it was, she just snatched up a towel and wiped her mouth off, breaking eye contact with him and lifting the phone back up to her ear.

"What was that?" Rinoa was saying, "Is everything all right?"

"I'm sorry I—" Tifa cleared her throat and tried again, "How…how did you get this number?"

"Oh, the flowergirl at the sorcerer's house…I only just got back into town and when I heard that Squall was here, I couldn't believe it! So…I don't want to sound impatient but…Is he there?" There was a sheepish little giggle in her voice.

Tifa half turned and saw Leon had climbed out of bed and was standing in the doorway, looking at her in concern. She turned her back on him again.

"I…I don't know—" She stammered.

"Don't know? Either he's there or he's not," Another giggle. "Please, it's been over 10 years since—" A falter, "Please." More serious now.

"I'm sorry." Tifa had no idea how to handle this situation, and she could feel Leon's eyes boring into the back of her head, demanding an explanation for why she was freaking out. "Can you hold for a minute?"

"Um…s-sure, I guess." Rinoa sounded wrongfooted—welcome to my world, Tifa thought. "Is everything all righ—"

Tifa clicked back to Aerith's line. "What the Hell, Aerith? Who was that?"

"It was—Rinoa."

"That's impossible."

"Tifa." Leon said, stepping around her so she had to look at him, "You look like you're about to be sick." He reached for the phone.

She twisted away, "This isn't funny, Aerith. You can't just give our number out to every bimbo who claims to be—" She cut herself off.

"It's HER. Leon has to—" Aerith started.

"No, goodbye, Aerith." Tifa hung up, but didn't immediately go back to Rinoa's line.

Instead, she looked to Leon, "What's your name?" She asked abruptly.

Leon just blinked at her, sleep still clinging to his eyes, though it was quickly being replaced by utter confusion. "What?"

"Your name…before the invasion." Tifa made a half-wild gesture with one arm. "Before everything, the Heartless, and all that…What was your name?"

He looked from her, to the phone in her hand, and back to her. "Who was on the phone?"

"Just tell me." Tifa's voice shot up a notch at the end.

He exhaled heavily and looked around the apartment, exasperated, and then finally looked back to her. "Squall. It was Squall Leonhart, okay? What's gotten into you?"

Tifa's heart crashed farther, if that was possible, and she leaned against the kitchen counter, one hand over her eyes, the other wrapped around the phone. He didn't say anything for a long moment. She figured he was letting her compose herself before asking again…but how was she supposed to be compose herself after this?

"She…" Tifa stammered. "I don't know where she is right now, but she's not at Merlin's right now because Aerith called from there—"

"Who? Yuffie?" Leon asked quietly, "Did something happen?"

"No…yes…" Tifa looked at him painfully. "Rinoa." She breathed.

Even in the low lighting of the apartment, she saw every joint in Leon's body lock up at the barely audible name.

"She's…here." She whispered, her hand spasming around the phone. "She just called and said she was looking for Squall…and…and Aerith—"

Was she about to hyperventilate? If anybody should be hyperventilating, it was Leon.

Leon, however, looked…confused. Bewildered, lost, shellshocked…There was no way to classify that look on his face. A long beat passed and when he spoke, it was with an eerily calm voice.

"Aerith saw…saw her…knows it's her?" He asked.

"I think so." Tifa said softly, "She's on h-hold right now, but I wasn't sure if—"

His gaze slipped from her face to the phone in her hand. "The phone—"

Tifa wordlessly held it out. She had no right to keep it from him now. Oh God…Hades had tried to warn her about this…This couldn't be happening…It wasn't supposed to happen to her…not again…This was Cloud finding Aerith all over again…only a thousand times worse.

Leon slowly took the phone, probably refraining from tearing it out of her hand in his haste to open the line, and Tifa left the kitchen, going into her room and sitting on the bed. Upon second thought, she closed the door and then sat on the floor in her bathroom, pulling her knees to her chest. The universe was a cruel bitch.

..:-X-:..

Tifa had looked near tears as he took the phone from her, and had quickly retreated—almost bolted—to her room and closed the door. But Leon was still recovering from the bucket of ice water he'd been thrown into to fully grasp that he was alone with the phone now.

Alone with…

Breathing raggedly, he stumbled into the living room and sank onto the couch, staring at the phone in his hand. If this was one more wild goose chase…or some idiot trying to lead him on…No, Tifa said Aerith confirmed it…but that still didn't—

He opened the line and lifted the phone to his ear before he could talk himself into another world. "Hello."

It came out as more of a growl than a greeting, and he grimaced, rubbing his forehead.

"…Squall?"

Older, more mature, but still that singsong tone of voice that belonged only to Rinoa Heartilly. That one word broke through every wall he'd ever built to try and barricade her memory out. In one fell swoop, ten years of the pain of losing her crashed back over him. For a long moment, he just stared at Tifa's computer screen, not really seeing anything, hearing anything, thinking anything…except how—how this was possible.

"Rinoa." A statement, not a question. It should have been a question.

"Squall, is that really you?" She gasped on the other end.

Leon swallowed hard and blinked as Tifa's screen flashed onto the screensaver, the symbol of the generic brand logo bouncing against the walls of the monitor. He momentarily found his vocal chords paralyzed.

"Yeah." He managed to grunt.

"Oh my God, I finally found you." She exhaled in a rush, static clipping through her words. "Where are you? I was so sure—I was starting to think—but you're okay?"

Leon could feel his pulse in his jaw and realized he was gritting his teeth, every muscle seemed to be tensed up, as though expecting a punch. Maybe he was expecting one. He had seen too many people who looked like her, spoke like her, walked like her…But this sounded like her…Maybe this time…what if it wasn't an impostor?

"When did—" He paused, cleared his throat, and tried again, "What's your father's name?"

"What?" God, he could hear the confused smile in her voice.

"Your father's name. What was your mother's job?" He pressed.

These were questions that the real Rinoa would have no troubles answering…Unless she had some sort of amnesia…but that made no sense, because then she wouldn't remember him either…Surely if she had amnesia, she would remember her parents before she remembered some guy she had dated for a few months over ten years ago…

"Caraway…And Mom was a lounge singer before she and Dad got married." She replied, still sounding puzzled. "Sooo…why the third degree?"

"Precautionary." He inhaled slowly. "Where are you now?"

"The hotel on Fifth Street…At least it used to be Fifth Street." She replied. "I'm in room 402…Who was I talking to earlier? She sounded upset…."

"Tifa." He said automatically, and then frowned because he knew she had no idea who that was.

"Are you…I mean, I know it's a crazy hour…but…Can you meet me somewhere?" She said quickly. "I'm way too wired to go to bed now that I know you're here…and—Please?"

Leon stood off the couch, his body reminding him that he was on hour 37 with just over two hours of sleep. "Of course." It was out of his mouth before he realized he'd said it.

"Great!" She chirped. "Where do you want to meet?"

"I'll come over there." He said, stepping around the couch. "I'll be there in ten—" His eyes drifted to Tifa's bedroom door. "—twenty minutes." He said.

"That sounds great! I'll meet you in the lobby?" She said eagerly.

"Okay." He said, walking the phone back to the cradle in the kitchen. "See you then."

He hung up and set the phone in the cradle. I'll see you then? Well—how was he supposed to respond to a woman who'd just walked back into his life after thirteen years?

In the silence of the dark apartment, he grasped the edges of the kitchen table and lowered his head, drawing a slow breath. He rolled his neck once to try and loosen the tautness in his jaw, and then straightened and walked over to Tifa's door. He knocked once.

"Tifa." He turned the knob when she didn't respond and pushed the door inward, peering inside.

He didn't see her immediately, but her bathroom light was on, and the door was ajar. Hesitating a moment, he stepped into her room and slowly crossed over to the door.

"Is it really her?" Tifa was standing at the sink, splashing water on her face.

"That's what I'm going to figure out." Leon folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe.

She dried her face on a towel and looked at him. Her expression was somber. "You're going to the hotel."

Leon exhaled and looked at her. She pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"I wasn't trying to overhear, but…I did…so…sorry." She said, walking past him into her bedroom. "So you're going now?" She asked.

Leon swiveled around, keeping his eyes on her. "Are you okay?"

"This isn't about me." She lifted a hand to her forehead, "I'm…Are you okay?"

He could see she was rattled, and he could definitely sympathize with that.

"I'm…I'm going to meet her." He said, as delicately as he could without sounding apologetic. "She's in town."

Tifa's eyes on him were steady. "Are you okay?" She repeated.

He just looked back at her, dumb for a moment. It was the crack of dawn, his body felt like he'd been run over by a truck, and his brain felt like someone had taken a blowtorch to it. There was no time to determine if he was okay. Things were never okay around here. There were always Heartless, and drama, and reconstruction to do, and…now this.

"I gave up on her." The words tumbled out.

His voice came out grated and low, and whatever face he'd accidentally made must have been pathetic, because Tifa closed the distance between them and put her arms around him.

"No, you didn't." She said softly.

"I thought…I told myself she was dead…Nobody just shows up after twelve years." He continued to stand there, letting the news finally sink in. "Her trail was cold—There was no trail to follow…I did everything…Right?"

He hated that he suddenly needed her reassurance, her comfort, but thank God she was right there, or he doubted that he'd still be standing…though he could feel her trembling.

"Of course." She replied, her tone suddenly…different. "You didn't—You had no way of knowing that she was still alive." She looked up at him and he saw that her eyes were clear, but there was also something in her gaze that he couldn't place. "This isn't your fault."

He drew a slow breath and ran a hand over his face. "I have to go."

She dropped her arms to her sides, "I know."

Leon paused, absently nodding once, before going back into his room and getting hastily dressed. Tifa didn't follow, but by the time he stepped into the living room, she had moved to a seat at the kitchen table. Her whole posture, the tired mess of her hair, and just the way she was looking at him gave her an air of defeat.

Did he have to go?

Yes, yes, he had to. Twelve years…the closure…the old wounds…If Rinoa was really back and she was really still alive…then what? Where did any of them go from here? Where exactly were they to begin with? He picked up his keys, but didn't immediately head for the door.

He should say something, but…dammit, he could barely put thoughts together right now, much less full sentences…but Tifa had never required full sentences to understand him. And if he ever needed that from her, he needed that from her now.

"I can—I'll call you." He said, boots momentarily rooted to the floor. He inwardly cringed; it was a stupid thing to say and it wasn't what he'd meant, not literally. I'm coming back.

She shifted in her seat, "Good luck." Her eyes added: I'll be here.

"Are you all right?" He asked. By yourself?

She smiled weakly. "Ask me later." I have to stay here; you have to go to her.

He paused and walked over to her. She looked up from her seat and he put one hand against the side of her head before pressing his lips to her hair. He took a moment to breathe in the scent of her shampoo.

I'm coming back. This changes nothing.

Her eyes were closed when he straightened, and when she opened them, they were moist and glassy in the soft lamplight of the living room. It looked like she stopped herself from leaning forward as he withdrew. She looked wordlessly back at him.

This changes everything.

Before her unspoken words could tell him anything else, he stepped away and walked to the door. Duke, oblivious to the situation, lifted her hair from her curled position on the floor under the window. She licked her nose at him but didn't get to her feet.

Steeling himself, Leon opened the door. "Tifa…"

Why couldn't he just say what he meant? He had always shot straight with her, and he had never felt the need to hide anything from her…So why was this so difficult? Her name hung in the air between them…And he had no idea how to continue the statement.

She broke the silence.

"I'm sorry." Her voice cracked.

He had no idea what she meant this time. His mind was already tearing itself apart; he didn't have the capacity to decipher anything else at the moment. They locked gazes.

"Call someone. Aerith, Yuffie, please even Cid…" He said quietly. I don't want to leave you alone like this.

"Okay." She said, tone flat. Then don't leave.

"Okay." You're not going to call anyone, are you?

Leon left the apartment, feeling like he'd just walked out in the middle of a discussion. He felt like an ass for leaving her. He felt trapped between a rock and a hard place. He hadn't looked away fast enough, and she hadn't hidden her emotions quickly enough.

The dawn breeze of Radiant Garden felt moist and chilly, but he couldn't go back for his jacket. One more look at Tifa and he wouldn't be able to go to meet her—Rinoa. Every step he took in her direction was a step away from Tifa…but she hadn't stopped him, hadn't told him not to go…She had practically told him that he had to go see for himself.

Maybe she was right…but why hadn't she told him not to go? He almost wished she had said—maybe demanded that he stay…told him that she…that this bothered her…And then she apologized…For what? This wasn't—this had nothing to do with Tifa, how could she think—

He was standing in front of the hotel. How had he walked here so quickly? One second he was berating himself for leaving the apartment, and now he was standing outside the building where Rinoa said she would be…still berating himself for leaving the apartment. For leaving Tifa. No, that wasn't right. He'd never leave Tifa like this…

Then why was he here?

Standing out in the chill like an idiot wasn't going to solve anything. Leon drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then opened the door and walked inside the hotel.