A/N: Chapter two for you. I want to get these early chapters out quite quick, as they contain a lot of information that set the rest of the story up. If you're eager for some Cloud/Leon interaction quick sharp, then this fic is not for you. Try reading one of my other fics. (Wink) Cloud and Leon won't meet for a while yet and there's still a lot of angst to come, so bear with me folks.
Kudos and thanks should go to Kai-Chan94 for all her encouragement and advice. If you're enjoying this fic, you should thank her. She was the one to persuade me to write it.
I hope this entertains.
Happy reading. xxx
Fighter
The powerful uppercut caught Leon by surprise as he turned his whole body to avoid a crack in the ribs. It rattled his teeth in his skull and white hot blinding light flashed behind his closed eyes as he stumbled back; the breath knocked from him for a moment or two. He shook himself, quick to recover just in time as the anticipated second swing came at him. He ducked, ramming his shoulder into his opponent and charged them both back across the make-shift ring, their bodies crashing into the metal link fence that surrounded their fighting pit. The roar of the half decent crowd was only just discernible above the pounding of blood in his ears as Leon hopped back, quick to dodge out of his opponents range and scanned about for his weapon. He saw it discarded not too far away and he made a break for it, falling into a roll and springing back up before his challenger regained his bearings.
Leon had meant to go straight home. He really had. It wasn't like he wasn't tired from another day of trawling Radiant Garden looking for a job – any job that would take him. But the smell of cheap liquor, gasoline and cigarettes had brought him to a parking lot at the back of a run-down clichéd to death bar, where as he had expected, he found a shabby if not adequate fighting ring and thirty people waiting to see a match. Leon told himself it had been the money that had lured him back. It wasn't the taste of battle in his mouth or the smell of blood in his nose. It wasn't even the roar of adrenaline that made him feel like he could destroy anything. It was the money. At least, that's what he told himself as he ducked low, swinging his right foot out to trip his rival, sending the heavier man sprawling onto his back, hands and feet splayed out like an up-ended turtle. Leon brought his Gunblade in a swinging arc down to rest lightly against the man's neck, the tip of his obscure weapon just grazing the man's Adams apple.
"Third bout goes to, Leon!" The announcer squawked into his megaphone; his tinny voice only just about being heard over the cheers of the crowd which had swelled to a hundred rowdy, baying, drunken amateur fight enthusiasts. Rackets like the one Leon was currently cleaning up on were illegal. However, that didn't mean they didn't happen.
Leon raised his Gunblade, taking a few wobbly steps backwards as the urgent pounding of his blood began to ease off, his breaths slowing from gulping gasps to heavy pants. He raised a hand and wiped the sweat from his face, wincing as he caught a cut that he hadn't even noticed. He bought his hand away to see blood.
He stepped out of the ring to a chorus of cheers, the announcer shoving his way over to take Leon's free hand, swinging it above their heads in victory. The crowd cheered louder, and Leon couldn't help the thrill that ran through him. He holstered his Gunblade and cut through the crowd heading for the trailer at the back of the parking lot. He picked up his belongings, running a towel briefly over his sweaty face.
"Here, you definitely earned this. " The announcer said as he handed him a roll of cash. Leon took it, eager to get home. He nodded his thanks to the burly guy as he shrugged his jacket on, wincing again at sore ribs and an aching shoulder that had been wrenched a little too hard.
"Come back any time. You made me a lot of money. You're a real underdog." The man said, clapping Leon on the back and chuckling at the hissed breath that the younger man tried to supress.
Leon pressed his lips together in a tight line, biting back on the pain of his injuries and the pain of hearing that name again after so long. His father had always called him that; an underdog, second best. He had always been second best.
"Thanks." Was Leon's curt reply as he turned on his heel and left.
It was well after midnight when Leon finally made it home, limping through the doorway of his apartment as quietly as he could. His stealth however was pointless. As soon as he shut the door, the hallway light flicked on, making him flinch and squint as he turned to see a very angry Yuffie patiently waiting, tapping her foot against the wooden floor boards, arms folded tightly across her chest.
"And where have you've been?" Her tone was level and dangerous.
Leon sucked in a deep breath before summoning the energy to turn fully and face his friend.
"I can explain." He offered as he saw her face drop at the sight of him. He stepped forward, unable to catch the wince that flickered on his face or the sharp intake of breath as he felt his bruised and aching ribs crunch together.
"What the fuck happened, Leon?" Yuffie demanded. Her arms unfolding and her defensive stance softening as she took a few steps towards her house mate, her hands held out in supplication. She took his bag and his jacket from him, helping him to limp across to their couch, she watched with wide frightened eyes as her pale and shaking friend sat down, his face obviously creased in pain.
"Leon, things are getting ridiculous around here." Yuffie said as she batted Leon's hands away and untied his boots for him. She pulled them off carefully, setting them down by the side of the couch. "I came home today to find you gone, no note. I can't phone you because our phone's been cut off and I get in the bathroom to find there's no hot water." She was scolding him, Leon knew, but her voice was so full of concern and worry it hardly felt like it.
"And worst of all I've been sat up half the night worrying about you. I didn't know if you'd be coming back or not." At this Leon looked up through his tangled, matted bangs with large sorrowful eyes, his face a picture of guilt.
"I'm so sorry Yuffie." He said softly his eyes cutting away in shame.
Yuffie sat back on her heels and regarded her friend who was her hero. He had saved her from a dangerous and uncertain future. She had been a kid, scared and alone and he had taken her in, no questions asked. There wasn't a thing that Leon couldn't do in her eyes.
"What's going on Leon? Are we in bigger trouble than you've been telling me?" She asked gently, reaching up to take one of Leon's hands, running her thumb over his torn and bleeding knuckles.
Long moments of silence passed before Leon sighed heavily, his head hanging lower in shame.
"The bank is going to take our house." He confessed in a quiet shaking voice. "If I can't come up with the money before the end of the month."
Leon had expected shock and anger from his friend. Why not? He had let her down after all. She had every right to be angry at him. He had failed her in every way after promising he would take care of her. Instead he was startled when the young woman merely sat down next to him and wrapped her arms around his bowed and huddled form. He held his head in his hands, his dirt smudged fingers rubbing back and forth across his pursed forehead in agitation as the enormity of admitting his failure hit him.
Yuffie pulled his hands away and instead brought his head to rest against her as she kissed the top of it.
"Oh Leon, why didn't you tell me?" She scolded softly and without heat. "Is this why you sold the TV?" she asked looking across at the empty, dusty spot in the corner where it used to be. "And your bike?" she added as he nodded his head weakly.
"You stupid fool. " She chastised him; her voice holding no edge to it as she swept the hair from his face. "You should have told me."
"I'm sorry." He said simply.
There were longer moments of silence as the two friends sat together, brooding and worrying. Eventually, Leon remembered the roll of notes in his pocket and reached stiffly to grab them. He held them up for Yuffie to see.
"This is where I've been tonight." He said; pulling away as Yuffie took the money from him.
"Where did you get this?" Even as she said it Yuffie knew. "You've been fighting, haven't you?" She asked, looking from the roll of money to her beaten up friend. There were a few moments of tense silence before Leon nodded his head firmly.
Yuffie stood abruptly, hands flying to her hips. "Leon! You said you would never do that again."
Leon's head was beginning to pound, and not just from the beating he had taken. He winced under the strain of Yuffie's voice, her tone making him regret ever opening his mouth.
"I wouldn't be doing this if we didn't need the money, Yuffie!" He replied, his voice sounding tired and strained even to him.
"After what your father did to you?" Yuffie asked; her voice quieter and softer now. "You'd put yourself back in that horrible place after what he did to you?"
There were the tiniest hints of a flinch on Leon's face as Yuffie spoke. Mentions of his father always had the same effect on him. His insides quivered and clenched. Fear was a hard thing to beat, no matter how old you were or how far away you ran.
"We need the money." Was all he could supply. And Yuffie couldn't argue with him. Not really.
"But this, Leon?" she asked, holding up the money, gesturing to his bruised and battered body. Her argument was pointless, but she was going to make it any way. She felt someone should. She couldn't let her friend do this without the customary warning and pleading to be careful. She owed him that much.
"What if you get hurt, or worse, killed?" she asked, flopping down next to him again. "What will I do if I lose you?"
"You won't lose me Yuffie." Leon replied, reaching round to hug the smaller woman to him as she nestled into his side. "This could see us through until I find a job." He told her, rubbing her arm affectionately.
Yuffie knew he was right and didn't really want to argue with him anymore. She let silence fill the apartment for a while before sighing deeply.
"I just wish you would have told me is all." She said dejectedly, upset that her friend had been suffering for so long.
"I know. I'm sorry." Leon replied; hugging her closer and returning her kiss to the top of her head.
It was raining, dull and dismal in Twilight Town and Cloud was stood outside the gym, softly chewing on a toothpick. His hood was pulled down low and his eyes were fixed on the doors of 7th Heaven.
The town's local gym stood at the far end of Twilight's one high street, the neon lights above the revolving doors blinking and fuzzing in the soft drizzle, that made everything seem soft and hazy round the edges. Tiny drops of precipitation hung to the tips of Cloud's bangs that poked out from his hood and dripped from the tip of his nose. Moisture beads balanced on the fine hairs of his eyelashes and eyebrows and the seeping, heavy heat of the muggy afternoon seemed to sap the energy from everything.
Decision made, Cloud walked across the street and into the gym.
As he entered he saw the till counter ahead of him which was decorated in posters and a woman stood behind the desk, clicking her way around a computer. She looked up as the door swung back with a bang.
"Hey, welcome to 7th Heaven." Her smile was wide and infectious.
Cloud replied with a nod of his head, placing his hands on the counter. "I'd like to join." He said directly, his voice low and even.
"Great! Let me get the forms." The girl replied; ducking under the counter. "My name's Tifa." She added, returning with papers.
Cloud took the forms without a word, filling in his details as fast as he could. He looked up, glancing briefly around the gym, taking in the fighting ring, punch bags, weights and sparring area. It had everything he needed.
"You own this place?" He gestured around with the tip of his pencil.
"Uhuh, I inherited it off my dad." Tifa replied; taking the completed forms, her smile never wavering for a minute.
"Are you entering anyone for CC?" Cloud asked as casually as he could, digging into his pockets for cash.
"Not yet, not found anyone good enough for the Coliseum Championships. Why, you thinking of applying?" she asked, looking him up and down to try and get the measure of him.
Cloud pierced her with his intense blue eyes, guarded and weary.
"What would I have to do?"
Tifa giggled, making Cloud shift awkwardly from foot to foot.
"Show me what you can do. I get to pick, so it's me you've got to impress." She said with a wink as she tilled his money and gave him a brand new member's card.
Cloud remained distinctly unimpressed. He nodded curtly, once, and marched around the counter disappearing into the equipment. He needed to warm up, and then he needed to show this Tifa exactly what he could do.
It was nearly two hours into Cloud's warm up when the sparring began. Cloud moved away from his punch bag, bandaged hands flexing the feeling back into them. He picked up a towel, wiping off sweat from his chest and the back of his neck.
He drifted toward the ring, resting his elbows on the bottom rope; leaning forward to watch as two middle weight fighters danced around each other like fairies. Cloud snorted softly to himself, watching the two men grapple with each other like two old ladies cat fighting over a handbag. This was pathetic. If this was all Twilight Town had to offer, no wonder Tifa was having such a hard time finding anyone to sponsor.
When the smaller challenger was tipped, overbalancing on a badly planted back foot and twisted his ankle, Cloud seized his opportunity.
"I'll fight you!" Cloud said, raising his hand to draw the larger fighter's attention. As the other guys dragged the injured man out of the ring, the middle weighter turned to Cloud. He took one glace at him and smirked. Cloud stood at just over 5ft 7, his height or weight neither impressive nor threatening. Cloud knew exactly what the other man was thinking. It was exactly what Cloud wanted him to think.
"Sure, get on up here. What's your name?" The middle weighter was tall, well over 6ft and stacked with meaty wiry muscle. Cloud hopped into the ring, tossing his towel down into the corner.
"Cloud." He replied, ignoring the smirk and laugh from the burly, bald headed fighter.
"Cloud?" The man parroted. "Kind of a faggoty name isn't it?"
Cloud balled his fists, bringing them to his face and crouched into a ready stance, his shoulders loose and flexing as he bounced low. After another sneer, the taller man mirrored him.
As soon as the fight began, it was clear that one of them was in trouble. Cloud charged forward, not bothering to wait to size his opponent up. He'd done that before even stepping foot in the ring. Cloud pounded the taller man, catching him by surprise with his ferocity. Blow after blow rained down on the shocked fighter as he stumbled back under the heavy weight of them. Before he was pushed back into his corner, he managed to break away, twisting round out of Cloud's reach. He scooted away quickly to catch his breath, raising his hands defensively to cover his face as he saw Cloud coming at him again, never giving him a moment to recover.
Cloud was a storm of rage and aggression funnelled directly at his challenger. His focus was unbreakable as he continued to swing and pound, dodge and slam his fists into the middle weighter. His fury was so intense he hardly heard the ding of the bell that rang out. It entered his hazy subconscious, the sound of it peeling somewhere on the edges of his red soaked, misted vision.
"Hey, hey, time out!" A pair of hands waved in front of his face.
Cloud blinked; stepping back he turned and stormed over to his corner of the ring. The match was over; his opponent was lying flat on the floor, completely out cold. Without stopping, Cloud climbed out of the ring, picking up his towel as he passed and walked back over to his place by the punch bags.
Tifa stood watching him, hands on her hips as the gym's medic ran over to the ring to help revive the unconscious fighter.
Cloud collected his things, pulling his sweater and hoodie on without bothering to shower or at least towel off. He slipped his boots on and turned to leave, a slim but firm hand on his elbow stopping him as he passed the short brunette.
"Come back tomorrow afternoon. I'll get you a proper challenger." Tifa said to him, looking up at him with serious eyes, all her flirtation gone. "Bring your weapon and show me what else you can do."
Cloud nodded his thanks and left without another word.
As Tifa came to stand in front of the ring, assessing the damage her best fighter had taken from the short blond waif that had just walked out of her gym; she snapped her cell phone shut. The video she had taken was incredible. She had never seen a fight like it. A light buzzing in the pit of her stomach excited her. She had that feeling. That feeling that she had just found a very rare, very precious secret. She had found something special. This year at the Coliseum Championships was going to be very interesting indeed.
Little did she know that the video she had taken would be half way around the world in less than two weeks.
-Tbc-
