Chapter Two: Entrance

It wasn't long after exiting what Lockhart affectionately called the Chateau Latrine, that they encountered what Cloud would not-so-affectionately call Problems One, Two, and Three and a Half.

Oh, they didn't all come at once. First it was Three and a Half, grinning with what looked like a torn training manual brightly splayed with colours held before her and wearing a white and pink nightgown. With glowing eyes she darted in front of them, holding the pages under the blonde's nose.

Tifa's hand clenched on his arm in a vice-like grip, jerking him to a halt in the middle of the Parade grounds.

"I had a dream about you." Problem Three and a Half said in earnest, jiggling the paper for his attention.

It was then that he was able to focus on it enough to see that the colours were in fact a drawing; poorly drawn, but admittedly far better than his own meagre stick figures. It had bristling and garishly yellow hair, blue orb-like eyes and a long reddish brown cape dripping down his shoulders in what he hoped wasn't blood.

That was kind of creepy.

The fingers on his arm dug tighter when he didn't respond, but the young girl before him seemed to think his silence meant she could continue.

"Namine liked you. She thinks that you would be good for Leon, so she is willing to concede him into your care." She grinned broadly, flipping the page and shoving it in his face.

He blinked a few times, leaning back only to wish he hadn't. Seeing your person in various states of undress in crudely drawn depictions under – under! – that which could only be your shaggy headed officer… he felt a headache coming on.

Tifa wasn't helping by leaning forward to tentatively pat her on the head. "Yours and Namine's drawings are beautiful, darling. I'm sure the team would love to see them."

As Cloud saw it, he had two responses he could give this beaming child:

Why yes dear, that is absolutely adorable. I certainly see myself sprawled prostrate under that gorgeous domineering man myself.

Or

What the fuck is this.

Really, there was only one acceptable choice.

"What the fuck is this?" He snatched the papers from her crumpling them in incredulity.

There was a moment of shocked silence before Tifa grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged him fiercely to meet her eyes. "I cannot believe you just said that Strife, are you bat-shit insane? Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

"Who the hell draws pictures of people they've never met in ridiculously compromising positions?" he shouted back, pointing accusingly at Problem Three and a Half. "It needed to be said!"

He cast a glare at the girl, hesitating when he saw her lip quivering. Oh God, was she crying? Suddenly in all its pride shattering, humiliating glory, the first option seemed like the better response.

"Oh God." Tifa looked panicked as she fell to a knee before the girl, the hands that could break through concrete placed delicately on her shoulders. "Don't cry. Please don't cry. He didn't mean it; he's just an insensitive jerk. Really. Kairi, you're a wonderful artist. So is Namine. Don't cry."

"Kairi!"

Tifa yelped at the shout, quickly springing to her feet and putting distance between herself and the girl - and from Cloud - looking far more frightened than he felt comfortable with. "Damn it, I knew he'd be close. One more."

It was that point that Problem Number One decided to make an appearance.

It came in the form of a boy with a head of tussled brown spikes and what looked like a set of grey medical scrubs looking very angry, and more than a little vengeful.

"You made her cry!" said his little would-be accuser, levelling a finger at him from across the Parade grounds.

"You've got to be joking." His hand hit his face with a groan, casting his eyes skyward. "What the hell did I do?"

"This is very bad, Strife." The dark-haired woman hissed. "Just…stay still."

She raised her hands disarmingly, taking a few steps forward with a small smile. "Sora, darling, he didn't mean to…is Riku with you?"

The boy eyed her carefully, making sure to keep both the blond and the sniffling Kairi in his sight as she moved. "He made her cry."

"…I know, I know…He's sorry. Very sorry. How did you get out here?"

Cloud noticed that she was keeping a precarious distance from the youth, almost as though she was afraid to just…run in and shake him. That's certainly what he would have done.

"He can speak for himself, Tifa!" The boy's hands clenched as he glared metaphorical claymores at Cloud's vital organs. At least Tifa fell silent.

He heard her mutter something that sounded an awful lot like "Oh God, don't say anything stupid."

"Look kid, Lockhart's right, I didn't mean to upset your little girlfriend."

Apparently that was stupid, because Sora let out a snarl and launched himself at Cloud. He had to wonder what the boy's plan was; tear him apart with his claws? He didn't get much chance for thought though, falling back to react on instinct. The boy was faster than he had thought possible.

It was only the heightened reflexes from both parties that made them each spring back at the sound of a gunshot, a faintly smoking hole where the blond had been just moments before. Heads swivelled to look at the sniper, and in entered Problem Number Two.

It was a young silver-haired man smirking as he levelled his toy at the shocked ex-soldier.

"Get away from Sora. Next time I won't miss."

"Since when did the General spawn?" He muttered to himself. As Sora began to circle, Cloud was having a hard time keeping both the gunner and him in view.

"Riku, stop this now!" Tifa shouted sternly, refusing to flinch when the barrel spun to face her, the young man's eyes never leaving Cloud.

"Or what?"

"We have a mission soon; we need Strife!" She pointed at him. "You're supposed to be the sensible one! You don't attack team mates!"

"Team mate?" Came the echoed reply of five voices.

Suddenly the tension seemed to plummet at a ridiculous speed, and reaffirmed yet again Cloud's belief that everyone in this place was insane.

"Leon!"

Kairi scrubbed her face quickly, racing over to fling herself at the new arrival, and Sora it seemed wanted very much to do the same. He settled for casting Cloud a final glare before sauntering casually over to the man, breaking into a grin and latching onto his waist. Riku merely lowered his gun and offered a casual salute. The scarred man ruffled Sora's hair as he lowered Kairi to the ground.

"What kind of trouble have you been getting yourselves into now?" He raised a questioning look to the dark-haired woman who held up her hand and silently signed a quick message. With that, he glanced at Cloud. "Strife. It…looks like you've been introduced to the final three members of our squad ahead of schedule. I advise you watch your manners and your words with more caution than usual."

"Sir." Cloud saluted.

"Don't call him Sir." Kairi made a face. "Too young to be a Sir."

Leon looked like he wanted to correct her, but he remained silent, patting her on the head. Cloud knew that snickering at this point would not be the best option.

"You had better take good care of Leon, Strife." Sora marched across to him, leaning far into what he had defined many years ago as his 'personal space'. "If I hear one thing about you –"

"Riku!" Leon barked at the silver-headed youth, interrupting what Cloud was quite certain would be a very nasty threat from the brunet. "I want you three to report to the General. Now."

"But Leon – "

"That's an order, Riku." He gave Kairi one last pat, bending down to give her a brief smile. "Keep the boys in check, Princess. I don't want to hear about any more fights breaking out, or there'll be trouble. You too, Namine."

"I drew a picture for you." She smiled, pointing to where Cloud stood. "He ruined it, but I can draw you more. Don't blame Roxas."

"I look forward to them. Now off you go." He straightened, watching as the three moved away as one. "Don't be a hassle to the General."

When they were clear of hearing distance, Tifa let out a sigh. "Gods, I'm glad you came by. I don't know how they got out this time."

"…one of the orderlies noticed their door was open. She thinks someone must have forgotten to lock it, but I'm sure there was more to it than that. Neither of those boys needs a key to get through a lock, when they set their minds to it… even one as complex as theirs." He ran a gloved hand through his hair tiredly, "Strife, hand over those pictures. Kairi will like to see them displayed."

"With all due respect, Sir –" Cloud began, the papers still clenched tightly in his fist.

"Leon."

"With all due respect, Leon, I can't do that."

"Look, I don't care what you can do. You will hand them over." He nodded to Tifa, taking a step forward.

In his momentary confusion of whether it was permissible to defend oneself against a higher ranking officer and the omnipresent knowledge of humiliation, Tifa had him pinned against her, the crumpled papers floating from his limp hand. He swore he heard part of his spine crack.

Leon's face was as unreadable as stone as he flattened them out, folding them carefully and tucking them away. "Where are you two headed at this hour?"

He could feel Tifa grin against his ear, trying not to flinch as she spoke. "Taking Spiky here for a drink to celebrate his redeployment on our team."

It was amazing how this woman could spring back to her enthusiasm, he thought blandly, attempting to adjust in her hold to breath.

"I want you both capable for training tomorrow at dawn. Whatever else you do is your own business."

"You mean the barrack's business. Not much you can do there without getting noticed." Tifa winked.

"Whatever." He crossed his arms. "No complaints in the morning."

"And keep your sounds to a minimum in the barracks." He added as an afterthought. "Some of us like our sleep."

Tifa grinned, pulling the blond away as she waved complacently.

"Tifa," Cloud muttered as they gained distance from the scowling man, "you saw those pictures. Why did you let him take them?"

For some reason she seemed surprised by the question, as though the answer was ridiculously simple. "Because Kairi drew them."

She ushered him through the rough wooden door of a small building. It led to a narrow, dimly lit room crowded with assorted chairs, a counter and copious amounts of bottles containing what he could only hope was liquor. If he ever needed a drink, it was now.

"And that's a good reason because?" He let himself fall back into a tall wooden chair with mismatched arms at the counter. He blinked as a large bottle of brownish liquid was slammed down in front of him. Well, she certainly was a forceful woman.

"It's a damn fine reason because if that girl doesn't see her images on display, Leonhart will lose some of his credibility with those three, and if he ever does that you can be sure that next time you make a fool of yourself and insult any of them, you will not be walking away in one piece." There was the harsh clink of two glasses hitting the counter. "Oh, and on your ability to deal with girls? Good job, Captain Jackass. Ice?"

He nodded, twirling the empty glass distractedly as he thought. "What, are they some sort of mascot for the squad?"

"You've got a lot to learn." She laughed as the ice dropped into his cup, unscrewing the bottle. It sported a leaping frog, half faded and peeling on the label.

"Maiden's Kiss?" Cloud eyed it sceptically. It had been a very long time indeed since he had last indulged in liquor of any kind, much less obscure expensive breeds. Over five years, at least.

"You'll like it, trust me. But look, those kids are beyond anything you could imagine. When they came here, they were ridiculously intelligent – could figure out any problem, equation or puzzle we could throw at them. After the tampering? Well. That one boy, Sora – I've seen him take out a hundred armoured men in under ten minutes. I'm not even sure he had a real weapon on him at the time."

The liquid was amber as it poured, barely disturbing his small mountain of ice.

Tifa poured hers straight.

"I hate to break it to you, but I doubt this'll turn me into a prince." There was an experimental sniff and a swirl of the glass.

"No, but it might cure you from being such a frog."

He snorted. "So what's the trigger?"

"Mostly they're on orders, but on their own accord?" She shrugged. "You insult Kairi, the two boys will kill you. You insult or threaten Sora, Riku will kill you. Riku, and…well, Riku would kill you."

"Got it. Get Kairi alone." Cloud smirked into his glass.

"Trust me, unless you want to end up as the by-product of taxidermy and dress-up, that's a very bad idea." She downed her glass in one go.

"…I have a feeling I don't want to know. How is it that Leon is able to order them around like that?"

Tifa was quiet for a moment, her hand tapping silently on the counter. "No one really knows, not even him. He and the General are the only ones that really have any control over them. And Matron. But…those two issue commands. Leon…he's special, I guess."

He decided to let the matter drop for now, on all accounts still far more concerned with the reacquisition of art than the psychotic dealings of three teenage brain children. "And this is?"

"Welcome to 7th Heaven." She grinned, gesturing proudly to what Cloud would have more readily called a storage shed than a heaven. "We made it ourselves – our squad only. It may not look like much, but it's got better selection than any of the regular places on base, and a far better atmosphere."

Cloud smirked, downing the rest of his drink before holding it out for more.

When they returned to the barracks that night, he found it ridiculous how difficult it was to cross the parade grounds considering they only needed to travel in a straight line. With the dark-haired woman leaning heavily on his right, and the buildings swaying in the distance, it took far longer than he had expected.

She seemed to be functioning fine though when they entered their sleeping quarters, he thought dryly.

He paused in front of his bed, glancing up at the standard issue metal lockers looming overhead. Was that…crayon? He groaned. Large splaying letters of assorted colour proclaimed "Cloudster the 5th" followed by a poorly drawn replica of his file photo covered in hearts.

Whoever the artist (or artists) was, however, it was clear that they either weren't trying to be secretive, or had forgotten that they signed their names. Selphie, Yuffie, Yuna.

He half expected Yunnie.

Cloud sighed in defeat, crawling under his holed sheets and curling in a ball. Whatever this was, he had a feeling he would need more than one day to adjust.

Or more liquor.