This A.N. might be kinda long. Skip past the line break if you don't care.

I have a couple of people on this site who have helped me tremendously. They've left more reviews than they had to, were kind when the story was less than stellar, and have overall helped me SO much. So with the holidays coming up and such, I decided to maybe try to write some stories as gifts. (That's a thing, isn't it? Gift-fics? ... No takers?)

Naturally, the first story—involving Leon and Yuffie, of course—goes to the amazingly brilliant WishingDreamer5. People who follow my stories are probably sick of hearing about how great this author is, but it's the truth. (I'll try to stop gushing so much after this...) S/he has taken the time to review just about every single one of my stories, and has offered me some really great feedback too. So... THANKS! I hope you like this story. :)

I'll try to get more of these up soon, but don't be surprised if you get a holiday-related story from me in May. May 2014. ... Yeah, I'm a terrible person.

Reviews aren't required but they are very much appreciated. Thanks for visiting and please enjoy!

It had been a long time since Yuffie had seen snow.

Winter had come again in Hollow Bastion, and with it had come a bitter chill that pervaded even the thickest of down jackets and immediately decimated what little vegetation grew to begin with. The blue hill-enclosed complex rarely received moisture in any form, leading to its current barren state, but something must have been special about that day, because at around three o' clock in the afternoon, thick gray clouds had swarmed over the rooftops and begun to spill an incomprehensible amount of the dainty white flakes that now measured about knee-deep on the ground.

All of the old people had complained, being as the chill disrupted their restoration efforts (except for Leon, who was only deterred when Aerith finally marched out into the snow and dragged him inside by his ear), but Yuffie couldn't be happier. It was snowing, just like old times, the perfect introduction to the holidays. She couldn't wait to get someone to play with her.

Unfortunately, the hard part was actually finding someone willing to be subjected to such a torture—uh, honor. When she asked, she got blank stares from Leon and Cloud, a flick in the forehead and crude insult from Cid, a polite "No thanks" from Aerith, and gods knew she wouldn't ask Merlin; she wasn't that desperate.

Bummer.

So her excitement when Sora showed up—apparently Donald and Goofy had gone home to Disney Castle to see their families in the momentary peace, in case they were busy with Heartless when the holidays actually rolled around, and Sora had opted out of what he deemed a "personal" experience—was tangible, especially when she tackle-hugged him and knocked him into the white fluff covering the ground.

She had expected him to immediately agree to play with her—after all, his hyperactivity and childish nature was only matched by Yuffie herself—but she hadn't counted on the fact that Sora had grown up on a tropical island and had never seen snow before in his life. Realizing that he was lying knee-deep in a potentially dangerous substance, the younger teen screamed and started slashing at it haphazardly with his Keyblade, wide-eyed and panicking and why isn't Yuffie doing anything does it have mind control powers or something and ohhh gods where's Leon?!

In actuality, the snow did not possess Yuffie; she was just standing there and laughing her butt off at the amusing display. So humorous did she find Sora's frenzy, that she let it carry on for several minutes before finally catching him by the shoulders and informing him, "It's just snow, Sora. Frozen rain. It won't hurt you."

He just stared at her, panting and blinking rapidly, Keyblade still dangling from his grip.

"Snow is real?"

It took some convincing, some comforting, and a little coercion before Sora was finally willing to play in the unknown substance with her. They started slowly, making snow angels and small snowmen, but soon Sora was simply content to stare at the flakes as they drifted down from the clouds, blue eyes wide in childish wonder.

Yuffie, however, found this pastime quite boring, and saw his captivation as a good opportunity to nail the Keybearer in the face with a particularly hard snowball.

He seemed flabbergasted and quite hurt, staring at her like she had just told him she was going to go work for Organization XIII or something equally treacherous, but when she explained the mechanics of a snowball fight to him ("You make balls out of snow and throw them at each other and whoever cries first loses!" "But I don't really want to make you cry, Yuffie..." "Hey, don't be like that! It's like a contest... you know... like a race."), his competitive nature came out and he heartily agreed.

That's where the pair was currently: both coatless in the freezing conditions ("I can't feel my fingers! Or my nose..." "Aw, that's supposed to happen!"), playing in the borough in the midst of an intense snowball fight that nearly bordered on violence. Yuffie was winning, her lifetime of ninja training coming very much in handy to snipe snowballs at the unsuspecting Keyblade wielder.

"Gotcha again!" Yuffie giggled, as the pile of snow she threw melted on Sora's rapidly bruising face.

He growled at her, heaving a lumpy snowball and missing by a mile. He tried to look fierce, but the giddy smile pulling at his lips made it evident that he was failing miserably.

"Ha, we'll see about that!" He lifted his arm to throw another snowball before noticing that the ninja had disappeared. "Yuffie...?"

Something hit the back of his head with such velocity that he was knocked forward onto his knees. Instinctively, Sora slapped a hand over the impact point, only to feel something very cold and wet beginning to trickle down his neck and soak into his shirt.

"YUFFIE!" he cried in dismay, hardly believing that the ninja, tiny girl that she was, could really manage to make a delicate thing like snow into such an extremely painful weapon, "That's really cold! And how did you—?"

The black-haired girl appeared again in front of him, grinning wickedly. "You picked a fight with the wrong ninja, short stuff!"

"Shut up!" Still on his knees, Sora heaved a snowball that was on an upward trajectory towards Yuffie's smirking mug. Automatically, she flicked her head to the side, and it missed her completely. The snowball continued upwards—

—and came to a stop smack-dab in the middle of Leon's face.

Silence.

Yuffie stood to one side, eyes so wide that the white was visible all around her brown irises, glancing from Leon to Sora. She almost started laughing, but suppressed the urge; she wasn't in the mood to die today.

Speaking of imminent death and the resulting hilarity, Sora was lying on his back in the snow, propped up by his elbows, having fallen backward in a mixture of shock, fear, and kickback from his shot with the snowball. The poor kid was nearly hyperventilating, his scrawny chest rising and falling unevenly. The legendary Keyblade Master, the same boy who had taken on over a thousand Heartless and the darkness itself several times over, gawked up at Leon like the older man was the most horrifying thing he had ever laid eyes on.

The ninja looked to Leon last, who stood there stiffly with a blank expression, snow sticking to his spiky hair and beginning to dribble down his face and off his nose and chin. He held a bag of sorts; he must have been heading home from the market. The scarred man reached up, very slowly, to touch the frost on his face, as if trying to confirm whether someone had really dared to hit him—Squall Leonheart—with a snowball.

His eyes narrowed.

Sora wanted to die. He wanted to be anywhere but here—trying to make friends with dragon-Maleficent, eating dinner with Oogie Boogie, doing the tango with Ursula; heck, he'd have tea with Organization XIII! Anywhere but here. He could be anywhere but here. Nothing could be more painful and horrifying than a cold, wet, and very angry Squall Leonheart.

Leon suddenly directed his gaze to Sora, who gave an audible squeak. He looked desperately to Yuffie, but she only grinned at him and mouthed something that looked suspiciously like "It was nice knowing you!"

He was going to have to do some good talking to get himself out of this one (probably a desperate apology on his knees), but all that managed to pass his lips was a tremulous, "L-... L-Leon... I... I-I..."

The tall man began walking towards him, and Sora squeezed his eyes shut, prepared for the end. He barely saw Yuffie clapping two hands over her eyes, as if she couldn't bear to witness his imminent death, but she soon parted her fingers and watched in something that resembled great amusement.

A hand closed around Sora's wrist and pulled him to his feet. For an agonizingly long moment, Sora felt Leon staring down on him, burning a hole straight through his head. The Keyblade Master's breaths became heavy and shallow; here it comes...

"You two shouldn't be playing out here without coats."

Sora dared a glance upward. That was an odd way to start someone's death sentence. Leon stared at him evenly, mouth a straight line. He... didn't look angry? Of course, he didn't look happy either, but that was sort of his default expression...

Before Sora could dare a question, Leon walked past him, not giving him a second glance.

The older man opened the door to Merlin's house before turning. "Come inside before you both get colds." With that, Leon entered the house and shut the door behind him, and silence reigned.

"... Whoa." Yuffie crossed her arms, looking impressed (albeit slightly disappointed that Sora hadn't been kicked into next Tuesday, which would have been pretty funny to see).

"He didn't... he didn't try to set me on fire or scalp me or anything." The Keyblade Master looked stricken, still gaping at the door like Leon might come charging out any second, Gunblade raised high to deliver the killing blow he hadn't dealt earlier.

Yuffie was the first to start laughing, breaking a little tension in the air. Honestly, Leon had had her going; she had thought that Sora would at least get a rough scolding before being sent to go deal with Heartless and Nobodies that Leon had already taken care of anyway, but no. It was weird.

Sora laughed a bit too, sounding a little like he was going to collapse on the spot. "Why do you... Why do you think he didn't do anything? ... That... was Leon, wasn't it?"

The dark-haired ninja laughed at him for a moment, and then stared up at the flakes drifting down, smiling. "You know Sora, all the adults always complain that they hate the snow and all, but they don't. It reminds everyone of old times, when it used to snow every winter. When things were normal, and when we were all happy. Snow gives us..." She searched for the right word, "Hope, if you know what I mean. Hope that maybe things will return to normal soon."

Sora nodded, a faint smile on his face—if anyone understood hope, it was him—then folded his arms, gazing at the door to Merlin's house.

"... Even Leon?"

"Especially Leon."

With that, the pair headed inside, because while not as horrible as a Leon with a snowball in his face, catching a cold wasn't much fun either.