"Promising Entirely"

Disclaimer: I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy to own Squall, so sexy it hurts. And I'm too sexy for your party, too sexy to own Yuffie, the way I'm disco dancing. I'm a model, you know what I mean, and I most certainly don't own Cloud, on the catwalk, or own Aerith, yeah, and I do my little turn (I don't own anything related to FF) on the catwalk. And I'm too sexy for this disclaimer.

A/N: Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeals. Oh, my loves! How I've missed you so! Please don't hurt me. I can see in your eyes that you want to. Here it is! I hope you like. I like. There are Laguna cameos and um…psychiatric sausages. Love and cookies and I'm so, so sorry!

"Squall, eat. No, I mean it, eat!"

The tall man swiped a greying piece of hair from his green eyes with an impatient sigh. Squall tapped his fingers against the dark oak table and said nothing, shaking his head when the older man slid the plate of sausages towards him. He wasn't hungry. Why did people always pressure him to eat? He didn't feel like eating. The man folded his arms across the table and leaned towards him with that usual look of annoying concern.

"What's the matter?" He asked, putting his fork down. "You haven't eaten in days. Are you sick?"

"No." Squall replied, leaning back in his seat. "I'm just not hungry."

"Aren't teenage boys supposed to be eating machines?" He shook his head, lifting his fork, and chewed thoughtfully on a piece of breakfast sausage. "I'll tell you, when I was your age…"

"Leave it, Dad." Squall pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm going for a walk."

"Alright. Don't go too far." Even as he said it, Laguna didn't look up from his plate, and for a moment Squall felt guilty for the hurt he saw. He and his father weren't exactly close, but Squall usually made an effort to be civil with him. It wasn't his fault he'd been feeling off the last few days, and as Squall pulled on his jacket and pushed through the screen door of their summer home, he decided his father was much too easily hurt.

He wishes now hurt wasn't the last thing between them.

"Leon, could you pass the jam, please?"

Leon passed her the jam without complaint, crunching his cereal as quietly as one can crunch and hardly looking up from his bowl as he did so. Yuffie thanked him and began spreading the fruity paste over her near-burnt toast, just the way she liked it, and the room fell silent once again. Cloud's teeth stilled, perched upon the tip of a croissant. A home fry fell off the end of Aerith's fork before she could place it in her mouth.

"Where's the sugar?" Leon questioned a few moments later, frowning at the table before him, where the container full of sweet white sand was absent. Yuffie paused in the act of sprinkling it over the jam on her toast and smiled sheepishly as she handed it over to him. Their fingers brushed, but there was no explosion from either part at the fact that they had touched each other. Aerith and Cloud dropped their hands and stared at each other.

Leon poured a tiny bit of sugar over his baked rice cereal and Yuffie's hand shot across the table before he could set it down, taking a hold of the Gunblader's hand and tipping it towards his bowl. A large portion of sugar fell and disappeared into the milk and Aerith gasped, waiting for the inevitable angry reaction that soon would follow. But it never did. Leon took up his spoon, his other hand still held tightly in the ninja's, and lifted a spoonful of milk and cereal, eyeing it suspiciously before stuffing it in his mouth with a careless shrug. Yuffie giggled and pulled her hand back. Aerith knew this was a dream.

"Did you guys finally have sex?" Cloud asked bluntly, giving them both a would-be frightened look as he pulled his croissant apart.

"What the hell are you on, Strife?" Leon questioned calmly, at the exact same moment that Yuffie said: "What do you mean finally?" and Aerith burst out "Honey!"

All three blinked at her.

"Honey?" Yuffie's grin split across her face. "Oh, that's cute." She turned and pinched Cloud's arm. "How you doin', pumpkin nose?"

"I'm honky dory, cookie darling." He replied immediately, tiny smile gracing his lips. Aerith blushed and went back to her home fries. Cloud's smile warmed and he stood, walking around the table and pulling her up by her hand. "Ready to go, lovely?"

"Go where?" She questioned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"It's a surprise." Was all he said, and Aerith waved quickly back at Leon and Yuffie as the blond pulled her out the door. Yuffie blinked after them and then shrugged, stuffing the whole piece of toast in her mouth.

"Are woo weady to 'o?" She muttered at him over the bread.

"Yeah." He dropped his spoon into his bowl and stood, pulling his jacket from off the back of his chair. Briefly, she imagined he took her hand in his, but in reality he simply pushed through the kitchen door, holding it open for her, just like he had every morning since their little talk three months before.

Squall didn't care that people were staring at him in shock and accusation, disapproval and shame. He didn't care when one of his father's advisors came up and told him his attire was slightly inappropriate. That was part of the world they lived in. No one cared that he might be upset. No one cared that he was now an orphan. All they cared about was that he wasn't properly attired. No one seemed to like the fact that he'd worn jeans and a white t-shirt to Laguna Loire—of all people's—funeral. But luckily Squall didn't give what they thought. He stood by the table latent with vanilla smelling candles and pictures of his father, eyes dry, mouth set in a thin line, shoulders straight. He didn't move for a long time, what seemed like hours, until a large hand placed itself on his shoulder.

"Squall." Kiros' deep voice was as calm and as quiet as ever. "It's time for the ceremony."

Squall nodded.

"Don't you think—"

Squall turned and met his eyes. "He said I wear black too much."

If the tall man was startled, he didn't show it. He knew Laguna best, after all, and he nodded silently as Squall stepped passed him, leather shoes echoing throughout the church as he silently made his way down the aisle, passing pews and pews full of people who probably hadn't even known Laguna personally. And so he stood, all eyes on him, dressed inappropriately for any other funeral but not for his father's, the prince, the son, the loved one left behind, and spoke words that were meant for their comfort and not his.

The sad thing is…he didn't know Laguna all that personally either.

This morning was beautiful, just like every morning have been beautiful for some time. The darkness infecting the World's core was healing, and the cold temperatures and grey skies were finally fading away, making room for the warm sun and sweet smells Yuffie remembered as a child. By the time she and Leon made their way across the fields behind the castle, the grass and meadow plants were dew free and swaying in a light breeze. The land was enjoying the summer after a very, very long winter. Yuffie enjoyed it too, happily skipping through the grass behind Squall, who had even taken off his jacket, letting the warm sun touch his skin. When they finally reached their destination, the sun was high in the sky and Yuffie felt sweat at the back of her neck. It was glorious.

Squall set his weapon and jacket to the side and brushed stones and pine combs from the ground before he sat against a tree, legs slightly apart and head against the bark. Yuffie settled down beside him, sharing the tree trunk, shoulder almost brushing his, and was silent. This was their spot, she liked to think. Just off the Galbadian forest, a lush, dense forest that had never died, even when the Heartless came. Yuffie thought it was kind of magical, the way the trees whispered and the light danced, and how it gave Squall so much peace. They came here every day, had come since Yuffie had followed him out the day after the ball, fresh with determination. Yuffie believed strongly, actually, in the magic of the forest. Squall had let her stay that day, without complaint, and the day after that, until now. Cloud and Aerith may have only just noticed it, but Yuffie had known for along time. Squall was changing, slowly, but he was. Healing.

"My dad's in here somewhere." He said softly, tilting his head back to look up at the tall tree, right to the top. "He told his friend Kiros that he wanted his ashes scattered here."

Once upon a time, Yuffie would have reacted eagerly to his words, questioning him, pointing out that he had talked about the past. But now she just smiled softly and nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"I…don't get it." He continued, hands gripping at the soil beneath his fingers. "This place…isn't my dad at all."

"I think it is." She replied thoughtfully, images of the tall, clumsy, kind and playful man dancing through her mind. "You know…can't you see your dad being a tree?"

He chuckled. "Maybe one of the trees that gets too much sun."

She giggled. "And grows so tall it starts to flop over?"

"Maybe…" He looked up at the tree again. "Maybe he thought it was pretty. Maybe it gave him peace. Hyne knows, he needed a little tranquility."

She smiled and bent a little forward to pick up a pine comb, picking it apart with her fingers. "Where do you think he should be?"

He considered this silently, and she turned to watch as the sunlight and tree shadows flickered across his face and the thoughts flickered across his eyes.

"The ocean," He said, finally. "Always moving, always throwing itself against the sand but never reaching what it wants to. Failing, failing, failing and yet still trying. That's where my dad should be."

She looked at him again, recognizing his tone for what it was. "You think you're going to turn out like your dad?" She didn't think this was such a bad thing. But somehow, for Squall, it would be.

"I already have." He said dryly, eyes glaring forward. "Failing, failing, always failing. Failure. Loire blood is full of it."

"Okay, and when have you ever failed at anything?" She asked exasperatedly, staring at him, cool, understanding and unyuffie-ish resolve completely broken by this little piece of ridiculousness. "You're anally perfect." He glared at her and opened his mouth, but she got in before he could snap at her. "Your dad was a goof. But he was kind and he loved and was loved and he was happy. Loire blood is rich with good things. And handsomeness."

He fell silent and turned back to staring out at the fields a short distance away, and she knew she'd said the wrong thing. Squall didn't need to be told that everything bad that he thought or was sure of was wrong. Yuffie needed to make him believe that. She just wasn't sure how.

I'll remember our deal, Squall. I won't let you be alone.

"Come on." She jumped up and grabbed his hand, tugging on his arm. "Come on!"

He put one hand back and pushed himself off the ground. "Where are we going?"

"To your dad's real final resting place." She explained with a little grin, pulling him out of the shaded seclusion of the woods and back into the fields. He removed his hand from her grasp and walked much more slowly, watching with slight amusement and fading annoyance as she trudged through the grass towards the ocean. She came to a stop at a high cliff, lifting her arms out and grinning into the sea breeze as it blew at her. He approached cautiously, glancing down at the ocean crashing against the rocks below. She smirked at him. "Scared?"

"No." He replied immediately, and then paused. "Of what?"

"It's a big drop for a swim." She grinned playfully, bending down to pull her shoes and socks off. "You could hit the rocks and go splat."

"I'm not jumping off." He told her coldly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oooh." She grinned, pulling her headband out of her hair and her bracelets and accessories off her arms. "You are scared. You'll run headfirst into battles but you won't jump off a fifteen-meter cliff. My image of you is completely ruined."

"I'm not scared. I just don't want to swim."

"Yeah, sure." She said, rolling her eyes as she shimmied her shorts all the way down her legs. Squall looked stonily down at the water, torn between keeping his dignity and keeping himself dry. To the side, Yuffie had already pulled off her shirt, and standing in not but her underwear, completely confident, she swung her arms back and forth as if preparing to jump. "If I hit my head, then you'll for sure have to jump after me."

"What makes you think I will?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow, reluctantly pulling his arms through the sleeves of his shirt. "I might decide to leave you."

"Well, I'd just haunt you." She said cheerfully, and he took a moment between pulling his shirt off and undoing his first belt that a few months ago she might have been hurt and angry. "There's no getting rid of me."

"I've noticed." He muttered, stepping forward, towards the cliff.

"Ready?" He nodded and she grinned, pinching her nose and squeezing her eyes shut. Fearless, together they jumped, and Squall pulled himself away from Yuffie's scream, the drop of his stomach and the violent waters below, to feel the rush of falling, the green grass and the blue sky and the life all around him, and the life inside him, and then they were plunging into the cold water, down deep, until all he could see were the bubbles carrying them to the surface and clinging to Yuffie's hair. When they broke free, Yuffie laughed and Squall breathed deep, and they clung to each other. Her eyes were bright and his hair was wet, and they kicked together, feet knocking against each other, but neither cared, Squall didn't care, because both were lost to the life and the ocean, and somehow Squall found the time to think:

"Woah! Here comes a big one!" Squall squealed with laughter and hid his face in his father's neck as the wave crashed over them both. Laguna whipped wet hair from his face and threw his head back, laughing long and loud, until another wave came along and he was coughing from seawater in his mouth and up his nose. Squall giggled, helping by wiping the salt from his cheeks. He saw another big wave growing behind his father's shoulders, and with another squeal he wrapped his small arms around Laguna's neck, hanging tight. Laguna wiped his tiny son's hair back from his temple and kissed him there.

"Here we go!" He roared, and the wave came down on them so hard that it crashed over both their heads, but Laguna not once lost his footing, and Squall had never felt safer. Laughing, heart pounding, he swiped the hair from his father's temple and kissed him there too, and they clung together, watching the next wave hurl itself towards them.

Yes. This is where he is.

"I don't even have any pictures of him." Squall said softly, regretfully, staring up at the star studded sky. There were so many of them. They were lying together in the field, hair messy and salt incrusted, and clothes finally dry. They hadn't returned to the castle for lunch or for dinner. Squall hadn't wanted to, hadn't wanted to leave this…this piece of life he'd found. So Yuffie had ignored her salty hair and her growling stomach, knowing from the mere fact of his admission that he needed this. She wouldn't have left this for the world, anyway, not his words or the very starry sky or the way he let her rest her head on his leg. This was what she'd always wanted.

She shifted her head up to look at him. "There are lots in the history books up in the library."

"Not the same." He shook his head. "I don't know how they got him to sit still and not smile in those pictures."

"Oh…" She turned back to the sky, frowning thoughtfully. "You mean…like personal photos."

"Yeah."

She thought about that, biting her lip as she realized there was absolutely no way to comfort him or give him hope. There was nothing left from their old lives if they hadn't taken it with them. When she looked up again, he was frowning at the sky, glaring almost, and she knew from experience that the anger was for himself. Slowly, determinedly, because today was a day of miracles, she took his hand.

"He loved you, you know." She said, when he glanced down at her in surprise. Then, he looked back up at the sky, and to her surprise his hand twitched, once, twice, and then his fingers were interlocked with hers, resting carefully on his stomach.

"Squall!"

Squall blinked and turned back, surprised to see his father leaning out of the door, fork and sausage still in hand, staring at him. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. What?"

"Um…" He seemed to struggle with himself, glanced down at the sausage as if asking it for guidance, and then said slowly, almost hesitantly, "I love you."

Squall blinked owlishly, dropping his hand away from his face. He knew, of course. Knew in the way his father made him lunch and gave him backrubs before bed and worried that he was sick when he didn't eat. But knowing and hearing were different. He tossed his hair away from his face, just as lost, and considered asking the sausage for guidance too.

"I know." He said finally, turning away and continuing on. "I know."

"I know." He said to Yuffie, and the anger was gone, leaving behind a smile so small most wouldn't see it. But she did. "I know."

Okay, well. Classic filler chapter just to be cruel since I haven't updated in so long. I hope there was development in Squall the way I intended, and that if there was development it wasn't a jump so huge it made him out of character.

And…well…the only excuse I have is that I love Laguna.

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