Title: Vanilla Soufflé 4

Author: Sorceress Fantasia

Pairings: Friendship Yuffie and Cloud.

Word count: 1029

Rating: G

Warnings: AU, slight angst?

Disclaimer: As much as I would love to lay claim to Cloud, I'm kinda scared of Leon's gunblade. So well, I don't own Kingdom Hearts and its character, and neither do I own the various Final Fantasies and their characters.

Note: This is a series of spin-off drabbles and ficlets meant to explain some events in my other fic Vanilla. Also talks about the minor characters in Vanilla. This piece basically wrote itself by the third paragraph.

Summary: Cloud would never forget the day he had first met Yuffie, when he was licking his wounds on his porch and she just came over like nothing had happened.


People usually remembered in multi-colours, their best memories filled with bright colours of varying shades, tones and hues. Even their most hated, most vile memories, were usually draped with some colours, but duller and drabber. But dull and drab as they were, the colours were still present.

For Cloud, one of his best memories had none of that. Everything was in black or white. The only bit of colours, if it could even be called that, was the various shades of grey that dotted and lined where the black and white wouldn't.

It was like he had gone severely colour-blind that day. Or perhaps, that memory had been the work of a mere babe, too impatient to colour the picture he had just drawn. The stolen colours were never returned. Not willingly, anyway.

They did, however, trickle back into the memory bit by bit, reluctantly. So many greens, and browns and blues and purples… the many patches of pain on his arms, his legs, his stomach, his face, left behind by those refused to understand him. So much red, dripping, oozing, flowing. Cloud still had the scars to prove it, still had all the scabs to prove that people hurt each other for no plausible reason at all.

No, perhaps that was the reason.

Sometimes, people just wanted to hurt one another without a reason, because /that/, as illogical as it may sound, was their reason.

Cloud understood that, and at the same time, did not understand why. But he let that slide.

What he truly, truly wanted to know, was why he couldn't seem to fight back. He always got hurt more whenever he tried. Those bullies would just laugh at him before teaching him a lesson for his defiance. And then there were more greens, more browns, more blues, more purples.

And it hurt.

It hurt so bad.

But in his mind's eyes, even the colours of his bruises and blood would disappear after a while, when he was sitting in the porch and wondering what to tell his parents. Just ten years of age and barely able to reach the knobs to open doors, Cloud had been a small child, wiry and looking younger than his actual age. For the longest while, he had thought his other name was 'runt', because that was all the bullies would call him by. And it seemed that moving into a new neighbourhood didn't mean that things would change.

He would just end up getting picked on by a new bunch of bullies.

Cloud remembered carefully licking away the blood on his forearm and rubbing at the huge bruise on his thigh at the porch. He had thought it was just another day, where after his daily dosage of bullying, he would just go home and lick his wounds. Too bad his parents had been out and Cloud had forgotten to bring the keys with him earlier.

And then, suddenly, there was the sound of a door slamming close by and a girl, probably somewhere his age, flew out of his neighbour's house and dashed straight towards him. Cloud had raised his head, not because he was curious of her intentions, but rather, he wanted to know how his bullies looked like before they even landed a blow on him. At least he would know who to get away from afterwards. That said, however, Cloud found that perhaps remembering the faces of those he did /not/ have to run away from was an easier task.

So when Cloud had raised his head, the girl's features fell upon his eyes. Strangely enough, even though they were as black as all the other blackness in his memories, the girl's hair and eyes had a shine to them. It was like they were black, but at the same time, not black. Cloud wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to explain that sentence to anyone else, but it made sense to himself.

It made more sense than why people hurt each other without reason.

"Hey, are you locked out?" she asked.

Cloud did not reply.

She held out her hand. "I'm Yuffie. I live next door. Dad says it's not good to leave a kid outside like this. So you wanna have some ice cream in my house? We have vanilla and chocolate, I think."

Cloud thought she was crazy. Children weren't supposed to invite other children into their homes, especially when the other children were strangers. And no parent had ever welcomed him into their homes, not when their eyes narrowed at his torn clothes, his bruises, his blood. They all labeled him a troublemaker immediately after the first meeting.

"So? You want ice cream?" she asked again, lips pouting and arms akimbo. She tapped her foot. When Cloud did not reply, she sighed, turned and walked home.

Cloud acted like nothing had ever happened, and he continued to sit quietly in front of his house.

But just a minute later, he heard another door slamming and Yuffie was tottering back, two mugs in her hands. Without waiting for an answer -or anything at all, in fact- she bounced onto the porch and slid down against the white pillar on the steps, just beside Cloud. She held out one mug.

"Ice cream. I like chocolate, so you're getting vanilla. Eat up."

He took the mug over dumbly. Peering inside, he saw a ball of ice cream inside and a silver spoon sticking out from it. The ice cream was a milky colour. Curiously, he scooped a small spoonful into his mouth and let it melt slowly on his tongue. It was cold and surprisingly saccharine, yet there was also an odd bitter aftertaste. He looked up.

He saw the smudges of brown chocolate ice cream on Yuffie's lips.

He saw the little hints of hazel in Yuffie's eyes.

He saw the new black in Yuffie's hair.

And he saw the dash of pink in Yuffie's cheeks.

It was then that Cloud understood that the colours in his memories were not a given. His memories had colour because of the people in it.

He dug into his vanilla ice cream without a word.

-owari-

Teaser for next chapter: It should have been a great day. After all, Riku had found the cutest server ever in the new ice cream parlor, and it seemed like he liked him too. Or at least thought he was hot. But the day doesn't turn out so great when Riku realizes that in order to get to the server, he would have to get through his twin. Exploding ice cream ensues.

A/N: I'm pleased to say that this series, which has been on hold since last year, has been revived. XD It's off to a slow start, but hopefully, I'll be able to write more for this series at a much faster pace. And here's what the upcoming chapters for Souffle are likely to contain:

1. Next chapter is the gang's first visit to the ice cream parlor and when Riku first meets Sora, as requested by Zenelly.
2. A ficlet detailing the time between Yuffie/Cloud's confession in the classroom and Leon's confession, as requested by sparkly mangos on LJ.
3. Probably a piece of Yuffie's wake.
4. Cloud and Seifer's first meeting in the bookstore.
5. A day in the life of the teachers of Radiant High, when news of Leon and Cloud dating first broke out, as requested by C.F.Evangel.

I still have a couple more, but I'm still considering. And while I'm doing that, continue to drop me comments your ideas for future chapters of this fic! And also, please R&R if you enjoyed this! Thanx!