Ah, here's chapter three, and with it, I'm giving you four apologies, before I even say anything else. First of all, I'm really, REALLY sorry it's taking me so long to get these out. But I have to do community service hours, and wake up at five and get home at five, leaving me not much time for anything else. I'm going to try to take a few days off soon to polish off the next chapter.

Apology number two: I've never played FF7. Don't have any idea about Godo or his behavior. So I made everything up... My bad! Apology number three: you guys will want to kill me at the end of this chapter. When you get to the last few paragraphs and you say something along the lines of "hell no!" and your hand starts twitching for something to maim me with, try and remember that everything will be ooook. Please refrain from killing the author. Lastly, sorry for not updating A Web of Destiny in a while. I will, soon, and I'm also starting a new AU story soon. Don't forget, reviews inspire me to write faster and better!

Speaking of reviews… 15 reviews! I'm so happy! Imaginary sodas to all who reviewed! I love you guys!

Anyways, my blurb is done. Enjoy!

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Heartscape

Chapter 3: Silver Bullets

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The rain pulsated on the brick roof at a gentle staccato, and the smell of feathers and burning wax floated lightly around the small, wooden room. His eyes cracked open, and the brunette in front of him stopped pacing and peered at him through the dim.

"Hey, you're up," said the owner of the dark brown eyes. The girl was leaning back in her chair, fiddling with a polished shuriken. It glinted in the candlelight like a sharp silver eye. Squall stared blankly at her. In the half-light of the room, he wondered who the elfin face and pretty brown eyes belonged too. Where was he, anyways? Then reality slapped his mind back into focus.

"Oh," he said slowly, as though disappointed. "It's you."

Yuffie stood, and put her hands on her hips. "Well, gee, thanks for the warm greeting. Oh, by the way, you're welcome for saving your sorry ass! I shoulda let Riku eat you when I had the chance."

The man tried to raise himself off of the cot, only to be pushed down by a less-than-gentle hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed.

"Trying to keep you from reopening your wounds. Again. You've been tossing around like a fish out of water for a whole frickin' week. And guess who's stuck in here with you while you toss around like clothes in a washing machine? Me, that's who! So sit your whining ass down before I really give you something to whine about!"

Apparently, the ninja didn't take well to boredom and confinement. He glared at her with fierce azure, which she returned with her own chocolate colored eyes. Finally, he turned his glare up to the ceiling with a huff of irritation and Yuffie knew she had won.

His eyes raked the wood above them, watching the shadows squirm and jump in the candlelight. The girl settled down, snapping the shuriken expertly from between her forefinger and thumb, to catch it with her other hand. The trickles of rain outside turned into a fusillade, beating against the walls and windows like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Do you have a cigarette?" he sighed after a while.

"Nobody here smokes," she responded, eyes fixed on her small weapon as it descended towards her waiting hand. Yuffie stood suddenly, and walked to the door, boots tapping lightly on the wood.

"Where are you going?" he questioned warily, without taking his eyes away from the ceiling.

"To get the healer. Your bandages need to be changed." She poked her head out of the door, and yelled something he couldn't hear – the roaring weather blocked out all noise.

Squall's eyes flickered towards the window. The latch lock was lowered. With a grunt of effort, he swung his legs over the bedside and tried to stand, but his legs were like water. Yuffie turned away from the door, just in time to see Squall grip the bedpost. She rushed over and caught him, just as his unfaithful legs gave out.

"You…idiot…" she mumbled, her arm underneath him to support his greater weight. The cologne she had smelled a few days earlier, scented like spices and wood, came back to her nose with a vengeance. She could feel his every movement and breath as the semi-conscious man leaned more heavily on her, and Yuffie wrapped another arm around his waist as his body continued to slide against her, unknowingly sensual. The foreign sensation was powerful, and Yuffie felt as if… as if…

"Am I interrupting something?" called an amused voice from the doorway.

…As if she could kill him.

The shinobi knew her face looked like a tomato as Aerith helped heft the injured fighter onto the bed. She quickly backed away to the wall, feeling trapped and furious and confused as the healer gently prodded Squall's chest.

Completely unaware of the somewhat embarrassing moment, Squall's half-sleep was interrupted by movement and someone calling him in an oddly familiar, lilting voice.

"Wake up, Leon," the voice gently commanded.

"Aerith?" he moaned. Those sea green eyes were unmistakable as they scanned over his reopened wounds.

"Why are you here… how did you get here?"

She glanced at him as she checked the bandage on his leg. "I flew," she replied simply.

The wheels turned quickly in Squall's mind as he shot her a look of disbelief. "Crap. I can't believe this. Are you…?"

She brushed her long auburn hair away from her face, and busied herself unraveling a bloodied bandage. "Yes, I'm a spy for Avalanche. I was born Katakari though, which is why Yuffie didn't recognize me."

Squall clenched his eyes shut as the anger threatened to boil over. "Is Cloud a spy, too?" the Gunblade user asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"No," she replied, speeding the healing of a bite wound on his muscular arm with a hovering, glowing palm. "But he knew exactly what I was doing when I snuck into the control centers every week. He'll be leaving with me to Katakari once your injuries are completely healed." Aerith moved her hand over his eyes before he could react. The sleep spell forced him into an instant, deep slumber.

"Keep a close watch over him, Yuffie," said the healer as she departed. "We don't know how he'll act once he wakes up."

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He felt like he was breathing in fire. The air around him sizzled and popped, embers and ash and smoke clotting in the closed space and stealing the breath away from his very lungs. Everywhere his eyes darted, red flame jumped and ate everything that had been a part of his now smashed childhood. Stepping over the gory body of his slain brother, the boy kicked open his home's door and staggered into a night which seemed to wear the colors of bruises smeared with the grey of smoke, a night when the clouds held the moon hostage in their dark depths, a night when even the stars seemed to have hid from the violence and chaos.

Once he was far away enough from the fire, the ten year old helplessly watched his village smother. His only possessions were the clothes on his back and the lion pendant that told the world he was of the Leonhart clan, which now consisted of only him. And a weapon that his father had somberly given him for his ninth birthday, far too heavy for him to heft about for very long. What good had it done to have it, anyways? He'd watched from the closet, where his father had hastily shoved him. He'd watched them harass and torture his mother, and shoot his father and brother point blank. He'd done nothing as his life was destroyed by strangers, soldiers with the disposition of creatures from hell who obliterated everything in his peaceful town.

He felt as though someone had force-fed him icy poison, grief tightening his throat like a noose. Turning his singed head to the left, he noted a tall figure standing quite still on the edge of the village's boundaries. The boy's heart fluttered in his rib cage as if it were a small, terrorized bird. Could it be possible someone else had survived the massacre?

He raced toward the man as if his life depended on it. Slowing to a halt, he stared, out of breath, at the person's back he faced. Clearly, in the firelight, his eyes and heart had been fooled. The man slowly turned to face him, but his features were obscured by a Aero spell which kept the flames at bay.

"Who… Who are you?" asked the boy.

He feels himself go numb as the man's blurry face suddenly breaks into a hungry kind of smile, the kind that predators wore before snapping some unfortunate animal's neck . "Who am I? I am the liege of the mountains. Do you not know me?"

The child numbly shakes his head, realization slowly dawning on him. "Did you do this? Did you order those… those people… to burn down the village?"

The man's smile, if anything, became hungrier.

"Of course. I was the artist," he swept a hand toward the blazing village, "who created this loveliness. What's the matter, boy? Do you not like my work?"

Anger and fear flitted across Squall's face. His small hands twitch on the leather handle of the Gunblade. "Why… why did you do this!"

Laughter filled the night air like a frigid breeze, for what seemed like minutes to the boy.

"What's so funny!" he screamed.

"It's amusing how little you understand," said the man, quite calm once more. "These creatures that lived here were rallying against me. It was necessary, of course."

The fury within Squall bared its fangs as he tried to slice open the intruder's stomach, his blade chuffing uselessly against the aero spell. "HOW COULD YOU? How can you kill people you don't even know!"

The man's smile didn't budge. "I will tell you how. My eyes and heart and clear. Let us say that one's heart is a landscape. When we are born, this landscape, this heartscape, if you will, is clear, like a meadow in winter, covered in snow. As we grow older and adopt the foolish ideas of companionship, selflessness, love, one's heart grows clouded with ideals, mountains that will block your view, make your mind weak.

"My heartscape," he continued, as if explaining a math problem to a student "was once covered with such barricades. But with cunning, I've shed this weakness. The blood of others has eroded these mountains, and now, I am truly perfect. That is why I can kill. My heart allows me to do so." He regarded the russet-haired boy, who panted with exhaustion and grief and rage. With a smile of contempt, his hand suddenly snapped out across the child's face, and Squall collapsed, a small gash across the bridge of his nose crying blood.

The man turned away from him and walked into the twilight, the fire of the boy's past life burning behind him. His last words haunted Squall for the rest of his life…

"If you ever decide that you'd like to kill me… to get revenge... know my name. I am Godo, the wolf of Avalanche. Never forget. Never…"

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Squall jerked up, gasping hard as if he'd just raced a mile. Sweat was streaking down his coffee-colored hair, and he pushed it back up his forehand, leaving his hand over his eyes as he fought to breathe normally. His heart flailed in his chest, battering against his ribs. How long had it been since he'd had that nightmare? He didn't need to be reminded of his duty to his clan.

"Hey, are you ok?" A gentle touch on his shoulder startled him, and the man flinched and stared at the intruder. Yuffie was kneeling near his bed, her face pale and worried in the striped moonlight that slipped between the window's blinds. Had she been there the whole time?

She swept her hand over his forehead, feeling for a temperature. Catching nothing, she stood and eyed him. He turned his face away from her scrutinizing look, his strikingly beautiful cobalt eyes full of misery.

"I never caught your name, you know," the young woman said as she perched beside him on the moon-dappled mattress.

"...Leon."

"Leon, huh? I guess someone screwed up at registration." She flipped his stolen ID card between her nimble fingers, complete with a photo and a strip of print that clearly labeled him as Leonhart, Squall; Lieutenant.

He snatched for it, but quick hands maneuvered it away from his. Jumping to her feet, Yuffie grinned at the vexed officer. If she kept her captor here for much longer, he might die of either nightmares or boredom. "Come on, Squall. I'll take you outside for a while. I'm Yuffie, by the way." She tossed him the ID card, and adjusted her knitted yellow scarf before skipping towards the door.

"What am I, a dog going for a walk?" Squall tugged on his boots and trailed after her, glad for his heavy leather jacket and pants when the first blast of chilly air bit at his face. "And I told you to call me Leon."

Ignoring him, she strolled out onto the porch of the cabin, and he couldn't help but feel slightly amazed at her ability to stay warm in polar weather clothed only an oversized yellow sweater, khaki shorts, and a silver headband. Snow crunched beneath her light boots as she stood under the frosty sprinkle, snowflakes nestling in her hair like white birds as she visually scouted the shadowy hills of Avalanche.

"Aren't you cold?" he questioned as he leaned up against the wall of the wooden cottage. Always the cautious soldier, he absorbed the surroundings -- acre upon acre of rolling woodland to the west against a horizon of mountains; the windows of nearby dwellings lit up like warm, square eyes.

"Nope," she replied, still scanning the landscape. "I use fire magic. It's really useful, you know, living up here." Yuffie caught the look of fleeting disbelief on his face. "What?"

"I still don't believe in magic," he obstinately said.

She gave him an incredulous look. "Are you crapping me? Even after you've seen people turn into wolves and heal people in seconds with their bare hands?"

The man resisted the amused smile which nearly crept onto his lips. "I crap you not."

With a soft huff of irritation she returned to the porch, and reached up on her tiptoes to touch his face with one ungloved hand. He started at the heat and physical contact, but didn't back away.

"See? You channel the fire magic through your body so that it keeps your warm."

"Right," he said, trying to remember when last a female had ever been so bold towards him. Usually, the fierce look in his eyes scared women away, despite his good looks. It'd probably been the day he'd met Rinoa, the rich, pretty, slightly insane communications officer who had a bad habit of pouncing on him whenever he walked through dark hallways. But he'd never experienced a weird, tingling feeling quite like this when anyone touched him.

"What're you just standing there for?" asked Yuffie, who's hand was on the doorknob. "I said we should go back inside."

"Right," repeated Squall, deciding the feeling came from displacement and lack of sleep. "I'm coming."

---

Squall sat on the tree stump, the long spears of emerging grass brushing against his shoulders as they waved in the wind. He watched as the two boys fought viciously, their key-shaped weapons clashing again and again, glinting in the midday sun.

For a month already Avalanche had been his home, and he'd quickly learned the customs of the busy village either through observation or Yuffie, because as an outsider, neither Sora, Riku, or any of the other villagers for that matter, wanted anything to do with him. Early in the morning before the sun awoke, Squall would watch merchants setting up booths in the market, where they would sell items completely foreign to him to visitors from smaller towns -- potions, wands, and enchanted jewelry, as well as swords, shields, and food.

Squall learned that not all of Avalanche's magicians could shape shift, only those involved in the military or people from high-ranking clans. Each clan was represented by the animal that its members chose to become, and many clans had chosen the wolf for its intelligence, speed, stealth, and power. He figured this would be important information, if he ever returned to the city and Shinra.

The scent of vanilla startled him, and Squall furtively focused on Yuffie, who had just flopped down beside him. The breeze tousled her dark locks like an overzealous uncle, and he still marveled about how she only needed to wear a green turtleneck, yellow scarf, and black, knee-length cargos to keep out the cold. She was staring out over the slushy ground, where new, tender grass stalks were like tentative fingers reaching for the warmth of the sun, to where her two close friends sparred. His eyes shot upward as Riku delivered a ferocious kick to his friend's ribs. Sora shot backwards, lost his grip on the keyblade, rolled a few times in the dirt and stayed facedown with a groan.

"The score's 29 to 33, Sora," laughed the other, brushing a streak of blood from his shoulder. Turning away from his opponent, he looked over the melting land and when his eyes settled on the lieutenant, his aquamarine eyes turned to ice. Clearly, he had not forgiven Squall for his attempt to kill off their squad. His eyes glinted like steel as he strolled over to where Squall and Yuffie sat.

"Hey, Leon," said Riku, casting his eyes none-too-kindly over the other male. "You wanna spar?"

Squall paused, squeezing the leather grips of his weapon tightly. Maybe he could beat some respect into the runt. Rolling gracefully to his feet, he followed Riku into the mire of melting ice.

"You know… they just might end up killing each other," mumbled Sora from behind Yuffie. Palpable tension crackled like lightning between the two fighters.

The girl thought fast. Jumping to her feet, she inserted herself between Riku and Squall as they raised their weapons. "Hey, guys, let's make this a two-on-two! Me and Squall, versus the Pansy Twins." Riku's lips twitched with irritation. He hated that nickname.

"Fine," the white-haired boy said. He gestured Sora to the side, where they grimly huddled, commencing battle strategies as if they were two generals about to wage war. The Gunblade wielder didn't try to hide his irritation from Yuffie.

"I told you to call me Leon," he growled.

"And I told you to stop picking fights with Riku," she retorted. Counting her shuriken with nimble fingers, she then unfastened her Conformer, and adjusted her silver headband. "Ok, listen up," she said, gesturing to their opponents with her bladed weapon. "Those two idiots over there are a lot tougher than they look. So first, we gotta knock out Sora, 'cause he knows Curaga, Firaga, and Thundaga, and some other really nasty spells which he won't hesitate to try and kick our butts with. Plus, he can summon, and God knows I don't want to go against Simba again…"

"Huh? Summoning?"

"…Ok, forget it. You go after Riku, and I'll deal with Sora." The new partners ambled into the circle of rocks that served as an arena.

"If you fall out of the ring or are knocked down, you lose," dictated Sora, the self-nominated referee. "Ready…Set…And…Go!"

The two boys raced right past Yuffie and blitzed Squall with keyblades raised. Burning with blue fury the Gunblade hummed with power as it extended into Overdrive. Squall locked weapons with Riku, surprised by the slender boy's skillful parry. But he hadn't become a lieutenant for nothing. Forcing his sword into the teeth of the key, he dropped his Gunblade. Riku sagged forward, surprised by the sudden weight of both weapons. Placing a boot against his opponent's chest and swiftly unlocking his blade, the Shinra officer shoved Riku out of the stone ring.

Yuffie was fairing well with Sora until he'd decided to corner her with constant Firagas. The Keyblade wielder might have won, had it not been for Squall's sudden appearance behind him. A rough hand reached out and plucked him of off the ground by the back of his black hood. Almost carelessly, Squall tossed the brunette out of the ring. The battle was over in record time.

"Unfair tactics," muttered Riku, rubbing his bruised ribcage.

"That really hurt," complained Sora, touching his neck where he'd nearly been strangled.

"Nice!" congratulated Yuffie, as she grabbed Squall's hands and forced him into a victory dance with her. "This is the start of a beautiful partnership, Squallie-chan."

"It's Leon," he mumbled.

---

Winter was determined to make a final stand against the oncoming warmth and renewal of spring. Flurries of white tumbled to earth, drifting in lazy circles. Lotus pink, crimson, and blaze orange clouds smeared the evening sky as though some ethereal painter had daubed them onto his canvas. Snow blanketed the tops of homes and trees like thick white frosting on wooden cakes. Frost embroidered windowpanes, catching the ember glow of the retreating sun, and the powdery virgin snow did not crunch or whine beneath shoes.

"G'morning!" Yuffie's breath rose in small, frosted clouds as she flopped beside Squall on the glacial hill. He granted the girl a small, rare smile that made shivers run down her spine. Ever since the fight with Riku and Sora, his cold attitude had melted like the snow that was slowly leaving the village with patches of greenery and warmth. The two boys had stopped enlisting the village kids to throw rocks at him or tap loudly on his windows and run in the middle of the night. In fact, her teammates seemed genuinely pleased to have an older male around, since neither of their fathers were alive anymore. They enjoyed sparring with him and listened avidly to his narratives about Shinra's army and the city, Sora nodding with wide eyes and Riku firing off questions. But today he appeared distant. His eyes roamed restlessly about the hills, as if he were waiting for something.

But then again, maybe he was just apprehensive about meeting Yuffie's father, also known as Godo, the wolf of Avalanche. Today, he was finally arriving from his long campaign in Crimson, a powerful village of magicians which had recently defected as Shinra's allies and joined Avalanche's side in the war. But the man's detachedness and unrest made her uneasy, like she had swallowed spoiled milk. For one thing, she thought it strange that he was carrying his gun sword around with him today.

"I'm glad Pops is coming back, at least for a while, anyways," she rambled, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence between them. "It'll be nice to see him, I guess, even though I know he's gonna make some dumb comment about how much taller I am when I haven't grown an inch. But he's been real mysterious lately, in his letters, you know? Keeps saying he's got a surprise for me or something."

Squall glanced, and for a fraction of a second Yuffie thought she saw fleeting guilt in his eyes. Then he reached for his lion head pendant, gloved fingers brushing lightly across it. "Yeah?" he said, distracted.

Never in his twenty-two years had Squall ever felt so guilty about killing someone. He was angry with himself over it. How could he even be having second thoughts about murdering the bastard who'd killed everyone he'd loved as a child? But it was true that doubt was gnawing at him, and he knew the reason why. Squall had not factored Godo's daughter into the equation. And how, he asked himself, would he ever be able to look Yuffie in the eyes again after he shot her father? Even so, as the sun peered above the horizon, Squall had meticulously loaded bullets into the Gunblade, and listened with a heavy heart as the slide snapped back and made a sound like the slap of a judge's gavel. He'd sentenced himself to more years of loneliness and self-disgust. It doesn't matter, he tried to convince himself. You don't need anyone. And today's the day when you can finally repay Godo for the death of your family.

He leaned his shoulder against hers, and now the ninja was sure she saw guilt etched over his sharp, handsome face. "What's up?" she asked worriedly.

"I just wanted to tell you --"

The rumble of hooves broke into the conversation. Yuffie stood up and peered over the plains at the arriving horse-drawn caravans. From here, she could recognize the emblems of Avalanche, Crimson, and Katakari. The parade of rebel wagons thundered into the village gates, wheels spraying sheets of snow as they came to a squealing halt. People were pouring out of their homes and shops to glimpse and pay respects to the arriving leaders.

"Squall? What were you saying?" Yuffie turned, and yelped in surprise when she came face-to-face with Sora.

"What's your problem?" whined the younger brunette, plugging the ear that Yuffie had just squeaked into. Riku lingered nearby, fixing his silver tresses with one gloved hand.

"Where'd Sq -- Leon go?" she asked.

"I dunno," said Sora, tugging on his red jumper. "But here comes your dad."

Godo strode forward, his magnificent black and gold kimono swishing in his quick step. His worn, tanned face broke into a gentle smile as he approached his daughter. Behind him trailed his usual posse of guards, and a man Yuffie did not recognize. She smarted saluted her father, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Yuffie, Yuffie," he laughed, waving away her military greeting with a hug. "Every time I see you, I swear you've grown another foot. How have you been doing?"

"Great, Pops," she said, pulling out of the embrace. She could hear a plot in her father's voice. Something was amiss. "So where's my gift?" the ninja joked lightly, scanning Godo's smiling face with a sense of impending doom.

"Ah, yes, I haven't forgotten. But first, let me introduce you to someone." The unfamiliar man drew forward, dressed in a flowing ruby-studded cape. His blond hair was cropped and he was boyishly attractive, but his fierce red eyes revealed his true age and nature. Yuffie noted that his left hand was equipped with a long-clawed glove.

"Um… nice to meet you," said Yuffie, quickly shaking his safer-looking right hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Yuffie-sama," he replied with a voice that reminded her of fine, polished wood.

"This is Raite, the leader of Crimson," announced a beaming Godo. "And next week, he'll be your husband."

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How weird… I also have a feeling of impending doom…Now that you've read, review!