Thank you all so much for your positive reviews! Contrary to what this almost-year-later update may imply, I really did appreciate them. And now that I finally found the folder which housed this precious baby and White Chocolate With Strawberries and Bonds, I can update to my heart's content.

Explanation: Leon and Yuffie technically rescued Sora from the Heartless by not leaving him out in the street. (Although that would have been funny.) They rescued him again at the hotel (sort of), but imagination only carries me so far. Also, I said that Sora won but used the losing dialogue because… well… yes, I've won against Leon, but the winning dialogue makes more sense because Sora still passes out. The wimp. Riku wouldn't have… forget it.

I own nothing. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?

~Healing Light~

Leon still couldn't quite believe his eyes.

The brown-haired kid lying sprawled in the walkway had a key. The key. This scrawny, short kid in bright clothes had one of the most important weapons in the world lying beside him. And he had beaten Leon senseless with it before passing out.

Impossible.

But he had the scratches and tears in his new attire to prove it. And now he was thoroughly pissed off.

Of all the ridiculous… why had the Keyblade chosen this runt over someone like him? Someone older, stronger, wiser? It made no sense!

It makes plenty of sense, his more cynical side thought. The Keyblade knew of your secret, of your shame. Your failure to protect your world and its people. And nothing you've done here has made that any better. That's why it went and found this inexperienced kid.

Leon sighed and rubbed his brown hair. To be fair, he had been a little more talented than he appeared to be at first, for a boy. What in the world could he represent, anyway?

Try purity. Innocence.

In that case, even Traverse Town was hardly safe for him.

Someone moved behind him. Already battle-wary, his gloved hand twitched toward his gunblade—

An all-too-cheerful voice sang out. "I think you may have overdone it, Squall."

He flinched. His true name—that name—brought back too many faces, too many memories he didn't want to recall. "That's Leon."

Yuffie hummed, grinning slyly. She already knew, of course. She was just doing it to rile me up. She moved around him to look at the boy, her eyes going wide when she saw his Keyblade vanish.

Leon sighed again. "It looks like things are worse than we thought," he told his junior partner. "A lot worse."

He didn't tell Yuffie that the kid had beaten him; he simply scooped the kid up and headed for the Second District, and she followed like a shadow.

Yuffie scanned the streets expertly for any sign of trouble. Nothing.

Poor kid.

Her gray gaze wandered to the spiky-haired kid, dangled over Squall's—Leon's—shoulder as he moved swiftly up the street. Leon carried him like he would a sack of potatoes, and Yuffie felt a stab of pity at the headache the kid would probably have later. Squall—Leon—was being unnecessarily rough with him, which wasn't fair. Yuffie doubted that anyone but Leon wanted the burden of wielding a Keyblade—certainly not this one boy. She'd watched his face as he fought Leon, and on it she saw fear, uncertainty and dread. Hardly the emotions of one who felt he had a right to such an odd weapon.

Wordlessly, she snuck up on Leon—successfully this time—and plucked the boy out of his (hardly firm) grip. He whirled, and lifted both brown eyebrows, but by then the Keybearer's head was already resting on Yuffie's shoulder, and Yuffie herself was sticking her tongue out at the older man.

The message was clear: I'll hold him, you meanie.

"Hmmph," Leon grunted. But he put his newly-freed hands in his pockets and strolled on into the hotel without protest.

"I'll be waiting for you to wake up, then," Yuffie told her unconscious companion. "You'll be okay, now."

At least, she hoped so. Leon could be rather harsh sometimes.

At any rate, it would be beneficial if she took the boy to see Aerith. If anyone could fix him up, she could…