Warrior, I Am

Chapter 3: The Big Pole

Disclaimer: I own nothing but hordes of creativity.

A trumpet resounded over the entire grounds at exactly five o'clock that morning. Roosters didn't travel to this part of the mountain because of the cold, so humans had to provide the wake up call. And as Yuffie listened to the blaring instrument, she couldn't help but admit that the rooster back at home was a hell of a lot better.

"Buzz off…" Yuffie moaned, rolling over in her sleeping bag. The nice thing about the rooster at home was that she could throw rocks at it. Or kill it. Killing Mr. Trumpet would result in her fanny being thrown in jail.

The instrument blared for a good ten minutes, by the end of which Yuffie was angrier than a dung beetle without dung. Who in tarnations had to energy to blow on a goddamn TRUMPET for ten full-blasted minutes? Damn them, whoever they were.

She dressed like a slug and crawled out of her tent like a dead woman. Men were walking past like zombies. Apparently she wasn't the only one that didn't appreciate being trumpeted awake. Maybe if a lot of people complained, they could start a Trumpet Revolt. All hail the roosters.

Cloud was not awake. She didn't notice that at first, what with her being all caught up with the irate trumpet-zombies. But now that she was sitting outside, waiting for Mr. Sunshine, her partner, she specifically noticed that he was still inside the tent. How did she know this? Because he was snoring. Like a dragon with a stuffy nose, it was so loud.

"Cloud!" She hissed several times. "CLOUD!" No sound of movement. Cautiously she pushed aside a flap of the tent, leaning inside.

Cloud slept on his stomach. All she could see was a big fuzzy yellow head. That, and the blanket was pulled down so that she could see his bare, tan back. Wowwie! Any lower and she might see his butt crack.

"Cloud!" she snapped, getting as close as she could without invading his privacy too much. "Cloud! You hibernating toad! Wake up!" He didn't budge. She moaned. "Impossible!"

She slipped herself completely into his tent, the flap closing behind her. She crawled next to him, kneeling near his head. She poked him once, testing to see if he would snap and attack her like a piranha. Nothing happened, so she carefully laid her hand onto his back. It was warm to the touch. Slowly, she began to shake him. No response. Putting both hands on him, she started to shake him as hard as she could.

SMACK!

Yuffie sat grumpily at the food table, refusing to look at Cloud. A large red mark in the shape of a hand painted the left side of her face. Cloud was eating some fruit quietly, not looking at Yuffie either. Although he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was filled with remorse for hitting her. He hadn't meant to do it; he hated being awoken by shaking and he had lashed out without considering who it was.

Yuffie was pissed off. He didn't even say sorry. All he did was shove her out of his tent without as much as a thank you.

SMACK!

"Ah!" Yuffie yelled, falling back. She was clutching her face, looking deeply wounded.

Cloud sat up and stared at her. She was looking back in shock. "What are you doing in here?" He glanced around. An odd sense of dread filled the pit of his stomach. "Get out!"

"I was wa—"

"Out!"

They both walked to High Noon without speaking to each other. She was slightly thankful for him showing her the way, but she wasn't going to tell him that. She wasn't going to tell him anything until he said sorry.

As they walked into the crowd of men, they passed the commander on the way. She didn't expect him to recognize her, so she was surprised when he spoke to her.

"You still don't have that parka." He arched his eyebrows at her. He seemed to be in a better mood than yesterday.

"I don't know where to get it," she answered truthfully, aware that Cloud was waiting impatiently for her to finish talking.

Leonhart thought for a moment. "Come talk to me at the end of the day. I'll give you one." He walked away without another word. Also during those last words, Cloud had left her behind. His yellow hair was lost in the hubbub of the crowd. Knocking herself out of her stupor (she was going to see him alone!) she ran to look for her partner.

"Cloud!" she yelled, looking around. Panic started to take her over. She was an open target for manly attacks again.

"Cloud!" somebody mimicked behind her. She spun around, gasping. It was the angel-smile brunette! Her eyes narrowed. He was standing with a boy with shining silver hair. Just like the brunette, he was unnaturally attractive, but held less of the innocence that the brunette did. It didn't matter to her though; she had learned already that attractive guys were mean (Cloud), grumpy (Leonhart), or deceiving (everyone else in this damn hellhole).

"You—!" She snarled a little. "You got me lost—and—!"

"Hahaha!" The brunette laughed. "S'not my fault you're so gullible. Anyways, I heard you didn't show for the meeting yesterday." Every word he said held laughter in it.

Yuffie colored in anger. How the hell did he know that?

"Don't look so shit-faced," the silver-haired one said smoothly. "The man at the gate went around telling everyone he saw Vincent go and help you. Vincent only goes to help the terminally lost. Or stupid."

"He probably didn't mind being with Vincent," the brunette laughed, elbowing the silver-haired boy. "Gaying it up out there, huh?" He laughed some more. Yuffie wanted to tear out his voice box to stop him from laughing ever again.

"How queer are you anyway?" Mr. Silver was peering at her face. "You sure look like a chick…"

"Who the hell are you?" Yuffie bit her lip. That was Cloud's voice. He was standing right behind Yuffie. She could feel the heat of his chest searing through her back. An overwhelming sense of safety suddenly filled her. Cloud! Cloud!

The silver one glanced at Cloud and backed up a little. He looked about ready to answer Cloud with a few choice words, but the brunette beat him to it.

"The question is, who are you? No doubt this one's sweet anal lover—"

He was off the ground in seconds.

Cloud held the brunette close to his face, teeth clenched together in an angry grimace. "Fuck you, you little shit. Speak like that to me again and I'll strangle you with your own hair." Cloud dropped him, grabbed Yuffie by the collar, and dragged her along.

"Hey! I'm not some sort of cattle!" She trailed after him. He brought them up to the front, away from the circus twins. "It's your fault that I was left behind anyways," she muttered. Unfortunately, Cloud heard that.

"You're the one flirting with the commander!" He snapped, glaring at her. She glared back.

"I was not flirting! I'm a GUY," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. He gave her a look as if saying, 'like that ever stopped anyone before'. He dropped the subject though when Leonhart came in front of the men with the man Yuffie recognized as Vincent. Another man stood on the left-hand side of the commander.

"I'm sorry."

Yuffie looked up at the blonde man next to her. He had averted his eyes, leaving her to gaze at his profile.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for hitting you. I didn't mean it."

"Oh." Yuffie bit her lip, a quirky smile trying to get to her lips. Despite his mood swings, Yuffie was starting to find Cloud quite entertaining. He was like an impulsive kid that did a bunch of bad stuff and then asked for forgiveness much later. She nodded to him and looked back at the commander. "It's fine…"

Meanwhile…

Leonheart surveyed the crowd, his eyes focusing in on one individual. 'Not that little brat again,' the commander thought. Already his head was going into migraine mode.

"Would you like to tell me what is so funny, Sora?" He demanded, singling out the giggling boy. He only remembered Sora's name because the boy gave him such a rough time the day before. Among other things, Sora had interrupted his speech twice because of the unrepressed farting sounds he had made throughout the duration of it all.

"Oh nothing. Just thinking of how I can come onto you later," Sora called back, winking at him. Leon narrowed his eyes as sniggers rang out in the background. Would that boy ever stop cracking jokes?

"For testing my patience, you have just volunteered yourself. Come here."

He got the satisfaction of seeing the alarm in the boy's eyes. The silver-haired boy beside him was cracking up like no tomorrow, giving him encouraging shoves and pokes to the ribs.

Sora made a big deal about going up to the commander. He would stop to give salutations to men and pretend to fake-cry while waving. "I assure you, it's all for my country!" He would say, patting a stranger's shoulder. Finally he made it up to Leonhart. Leonhart, personally, thought it was good of him to do so. Any longer and he might've shot the boy.

"So. What do I have to do to please you, Oh High And Mighty?"

Leonhart's eyes dilated into slits. "Climb up High Noon."

Sora actually laughed. "Dude," he began, not noticing how Leon flinched along with the absurd nickname. "I was born around trees taller than these. This'll be cake."

"Oh really," Leon said mildly, not believing a word of it. "Then do it."

"You got it pops." Sora walked snootily up to the large man-made pole, eying it arrogantly. Slipping off his shoes and socks, the brunette hitched himself onto the pole, wagging his bottom just to get a roar out of the men. Leon watched this calmly, nodding to Vincent. The vampire came over and laid a large silver box in his hands.

"You forgot something," the commander called out to him, and a low note of cynicism could be heard. He grabbed one of the boy's arms, causing Sora to have to let go of High Noon. Lifting up the mischievous teenager's wrist, Leon swiftly put a thick, maroon strap in his hands. Sora watched it with bored fascination, but let out a small whimper when his arm was nearly thrown to the ground from the golden weight that was attached to the strap.

"This," Leon said, easily holding up Sora's hand in his own, "represents valor." Leon walked to the other side, placing an identical weight in Sora's other hand, although this one looked larger. "And this represents strength."

"What the heck am I supposed to do with these?" Sora said, already trying to deny that he actually had to climb with them.

"Climb with them," Leon said simply. "But I'm not done yet."

Sora cried out as his Commander pulled the last odd shaped weight, holding it firmly in his hands. Sora could've sworn he saw the commander smile.

"Is that for my legs?"

"No."

Sora, having no limbs left to reference, glanced at his groin.

"Oh hell no, nuthin' is hanging from my precious."

Leon fought against the urge to actually force him to do just that. "This is just an extra." Leon placed it back in the box. He didn't really have to pull it out in the first place, but he got a kick out of scaring the kid. "Climb now."

"This is bad for my wrists," Sora started to say, stalling for time. "I mean, what if they just fall off?"

"Your wrists are not going to just fall off," Leon said, stepping toward him, and causing Sora to back up against the pole. Sora noticed how all the men were staring at him, and he quickly regained his composure.

"Yeah, jus' testing ya." He glanced up at the pole like it was nothing. "I'll be doing that now…" He swung onto it, visibly having much more difficulty than last time. He started to sing to get his mind off the pressure of gravity.

"Sora?" Leon called to him.

"Yes sir?"

"Shut up."

The boy clamped his mouth shut, and attempted to get up higher. Considering he was only a few feet off the ground, a distance he could easily close with his feet, was pretty degrading. Clenching his eyes shut, he managed to shimmy near about one-fourth of the pole, grunting the whole way. The men were cheering for him, but unfortunately, he was all out of gas. His arms went slack and he plummeted to earth, landing roughly on his backside. The weights from his hands came down and landed right onto his stomach, making him groan and curse.

Yuffie stared at what the commander had just made that boy do. A few minutes ago, he had to be the most arrogant and light-hearted person she'd ever met; now, he looked frustrated, angry, and in pain. She was starting to question if there was anything else inside of their Commander aside a computer and sand. He pointed at S-H-B and told him to do it next.

As Leonhart was attaching the weights to the S-H-B he said, "Your name."

"Riku, commander," Riku said, smiling satirically.

Leonhart nodded. "Climb," he ordered.

Meanwhile, Yuffie was standing up front, watching with abject horror. There was just no way she could do that. Not with weights. No sirree. Her muscles were comparable to a fly's. Yes, her father was a renowned martial artist, but that didn't mean she was. Her father had tried to get her to learn (put her in a room and wouldn't let her out until she worked on her form), but she never practiced enough to be efficient. She never imagined she'd need to use any of those skills.

Ten minutes after Riku went up, he was on his ass. He shook his silver head, grappling with the weights. That was as hard as hell and he was pissed for not being able to do it. He thought if Sora could get one-fourth of the way up, he'd be able to get at least half way up. But no.

'This is stupid,' Leon thought, watching Riku rub his sore arms and attempt to get the weights off. 'I wouldn't even be doing this if my goddamn father wasn't so adamant about making me this units commandant.' Being the commander meant he had to explain things, and he hated to do that. As much as he would love to abandon the lot of morons in front of him, he knew they'd be dead meat if he did so. So, he was stuck looking after a bunch of kindergarteners. 'My father is coming to take over in a few days though…'

He called up another random man, putting the weights on the buff male's wrists. It came out with the same results. That was how he proceeded for a while. By one in the afternoon, only half of the men had gone. He called a stop to it all, announcing that the rest would attempt it the next day. And the next. And the next.

Yuffie groaned. She was lucky enough that she was not picked. Not yet anyways. 'I have probably, one to two days to live. Then I'm going to die on the big wooden pole of death.' She watched Cloud out of the corner of her eye. He had not been picked either. He didn't look happy about it. She could tell that he was just itching to climb up the Terrible Tree. Personally, if she had the choice, she'd choose not to hump some wooden pole with big, giant quarters tied to her wrists. But that was just her.

After that they did some simple sparring, all of which she was terrible at. Cloud was patient in the beginning, but got annoyed near the end of the day. He got snappy with her and nearly gave up on her completely. She didn't blame him though. And when they had weapon's training, she couldn't load the cannon properly. She was iffy about holding a gun, and she couldn't figure out how to summon those supernatural magic elements—like doing magic tricks was going to help them in battle anyways.

By the end of the day she was pooped. In addition to her wrists, her forearms hurt from blocking Cloud so many times. Cloud had to be angry with somebody, what with the force he was hitting her with. She didn't have a problem with that though; she just wished that he wouldn't take it out on her.

When bath time came around she found someplace to be—her tent. It was easy to hide in there, tucked safely away under her blankets. She knew that she couldn't put off her own sanitation forever, but she was sure as hell going to try.

While the men were off at the lake (she knew they were there because of all the ruckus) she went and stole away some food. She ate quickly in the quiet of her own tent, returning the empty bowl back at the kitchen with a grateful smile. In respect to her odd eating habit, the chef did call her a female body part, but he didn't come after her. It wouldn't be until later that the same chef would be too tired to even talk.

She wasn't going to deny it; she was nervous about going to meet Leonhart. She didn't know how to really act around him. She wasn't sure if he found her as an annoyance or if he thought nothing of her at all. There was something else too, like how the bangs across his face combined with his deep eyes made him look poetically sad and pensive. And how his lips—

What was she saying? She'd only spoken to him twice, and spent an average of five minutes in his presence! "I'm losing it," Yuffie said, shaking.

Yuffie made it to the commander's tent without any big problems. There was no door to knock on, so she cleared her throat and called out awkwardly, "Commander?"

Some shuffling inside. She supposed that he was busy clearing away papers. Or hiding his dirty magazines. 'Not likely.' A zippp sound was heard and she looked down. Why did the commander get to have a zipper to his tent? It was if she awoke every time a gust of wind flew into her tent. Maybe she could duck tape it…

Leonhart stepped out and eyed her steadily. He shook his head in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me…"

"What?" Yuffie said, alarmed. But then she bit her lip, remembering the "don't speak unless I speak first" rule.

He didn't rebuke her though. He just walked inside and motioned for her to follow. She did so obediently.

Inside it was warm. Light, a precious commodity in the camp, spilled out from the oil lantern on his desk. Papers on his desk looked forced into some haphazard pile. The other table perpendicular to the main one had a loaf of bread sitting on even more papers. The floor was covered with a red and yellow rug and the whole room smelled cozy.

She hadn't noticed everything the first time she was in here, but now she saw that he lived like a king compared to them!

"Do you somehow manage to lose one more article of clothing, or was that purposefully done?" Leonhart finally asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. He was standing in front of another tent flap, one that led into another "room".

Yuffie blanched for a moment. Then she remembered that she had taken off her long sleeve top, leaving her running around in just a normal t-shirt. She had been so worked up about coming to see him that she hadn't taken notice to the cold. Now that he reminded her though she started to shiver.

"That was an accident. Sir."

He shook his head as if she were a lunatic. 'Maybe I am,' she thought, staring a little too long at the commander's lower behind. 'Maybe I really am stark raving mad.'

"Here," Squall said, holding out a thick fur parka. The hood was lined with thick white fur, and so were the ends of the sleeves. The color was a corduroy-looking tan. She began to notice then that this man was really into fur. Hey, he was wearing a fur jacket right now!

She almost laughed when she realized he was wearing a leather jacket rimmed with fur. A leather jacket rimmed with fur. For some reason it was so bizarre that so almost guffawed at him. By some divine might though she managed to stifle any chortles that she had. She worked up a I-Was-Not-Just-Laughing-At-You smile and let him drop the item into her hand. It weighed a substantial amount in terms of clothing.

"Thank you commander." She bowed, conscious not to go too low, lest he see her amazing hooters. 'If a size 36A constitutes anything amazing…'

"I'm not the emperor, you know." Leonhart was staring at her again like she'd done something stupid. Maybe she had.

"I know, sir," she answered, dumbly. Yuffie bit her lip as he saw him arch his eyebrow in a comical way. Internally she sighed. Yuffie and rhetorical statements never did mix quite well. Why do you say it if it doesn't need to be answered?

Yuffie almost expected him to laugh at her. Almost. Instead his face grew somber and he nodded to her. "Good day." And he turned away from her. She took that as her signal to leave. She turned away, too quickly, and tripped on a lump in the rug. "Agh!" She mumbled, looking back. Her commander was still standing there, back turned and not moving at all. Blushing fiercely, Yuffie hurried out of his tent without another word.

Inside the tent, Leonhart looked back and smiled.

A/N: He smiled, but it was a Squall smile. So picture a really, really small one.

I'm enjoying this. I hope all of you are. It's fun writing about all three of them. I can't wait until everyone finds out about Squall's name so I can stop calling him Leonhart! Ah! Typing that every time is so irritating. It's really hard getting Yuffie and Squall to meet each other, too. It's easy for her to talk to Cloud, but Squall's duties as a leader make it a bitch to find situations for him. But Squall's daddy is coming to help soon…

Next chapter: "Climb up that pole, beeyatch!" And Squall starts to notice Cloud…so the rivalry begins!

P.S. Chapter 1 is revised. The beginning is a spoiler for what's to come.