Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 2: A Visitor

“I’ll be seeing you again, Reno.”

The words ran through his head over and over on a loop. Who was he? And how the fuck had he known his name? There was something familiar about the man… but Reno was too shaken at the moment to place him. His hand trembled slightly as he poured a shot of whiskey and passed it across the bar.

“You alright, Red?” Hansen asked, before taking a long drag off his cigarette and coughing violently. “Ya look like ya seen a ghost.” He picked up the glass and downed the liquor, coughing again.

Reno shook his head, and wiped down the counter. “Got mugged earlier. Almost died. Damn near shit myself. You know… typical afternoon in the Slums.”

The regular laughed. “Well, the good news is ya survived to tell the tale. Try not to let it get to ya.” He tossed a couple gil onto the bar. “Here, kid. Pour yourself somethin’ strong. Kinda looks like ya need it.”

The redhead smirked and collected the cash before reaching for the shelf and doling out a shot of vodka for himself. He drained it, and shuddered at the sharp burn the alcohol sent down his throat. Lira may have been right about the pay… but he’d have been hard pressed to find a more enjoyable place to work. The Lonely Dragon was great. The owner, Wilfred, didn’t put up with any shit from the local assholes, and the regulars, with a handful of exceptions, were generally good people. He got treated like a human being around here, instead of just another slum rat from Sector Two. That alone was worth putting up with the shit pay.

Hansen turned his gaze back towards the television screen that hung above the bar.

“Fuckin’ Shinra’s at it again,” he muttered, and Reno glanced up at the screen as well. The local news was showing video from Junon. A massive parade of troops. “You mark my words, kid… We’re gonna be in a war sooner or later if those Shiva-be-damned Wutaiians don’t fuckin’ fall in line ‘n let ’em build that damn reactor. Shinra ain’t gonna put up with their shit indefinitely.”

The redhead shrugged. “Not my problem.”

“Hmph. They start attackin’ Midgar, it’s gonna be everyone’s problem.”

A loud snort interrupted the conversation. “Oh, fuck off, Hansen. They ain’t stupid enough ta start something with Shinra Company,” Wilfred proclaimed as he meandered out of the back. “They’ll bitch and posture and threaten… and then they’ll back down. The whole ‘ancient warriors of the islands’ bullshit is just that. A load of bullshit. They’ll stick their tails between their legs and run just like everyone else does.”

“Think so, huh? Well, we’ll just see which of us is right when those fuckers drop the Plate on our heads.”

Reno shook his head and leaned back against the wall, chuckling. The way those two argued, a person would think they couldn’t stand each other. Really, Hansen and Wilfred had been best friends most of their lives.

“They drop the Odin-forsaken Plate on us, it’s not exactly gonna matter which of us was right. We’ll all be dead before we even know what’s goin’ on!” Wilfred laughed, grabbing a bottle from the top shelf and pouring his friend another shot. Hansen joined in on the laughter.

“I’ll take over for awhile. Do me a favor and go finish up that inventory you started last night, will ya, Reno?”

“Sure, Boss.”

Reno slipped through the gate at the end of the bar in into the back room. Crates were stacked shoulder-high all along the back wall… Wilfred’s liquor shipment for the month. He’d put Reno in charge of checking the product against the invoice to make sure his supplier wasn’t screwing him over. It was kind of a pain in the ass… but it wasn’t difficult work. He grabbed a prybar and levered the lid off of the next crate.

As he started unpacking, his thoughts returned to the attack earlier in the day and the mysterious Wutaiian that had saved his ass. He lifted a bottle of Mideelian sa’ah out of the box, and stared at it for a moment. That shit was a throat incinerating 192-proof… 96% pure alcohol. Almost no one ordered it for anything other than a laugh at some unsuspecting lightweight’s expense. In fact, the last time he’d even served it to anyone other than Hansen…

“No fuckin’ way…”

The last time he’d poured a shot of sa’ah for anyone else had been for a Wutaiian in a black suit. He’d looked a little rougher around the edges that night… and a hell of a lot bloodier… but Reno was almost certain it had been the same guy. He’d turned up damn near closing time, looking like he’d been in one hell of a fight. Three guys had come in a few minutes later, looking for him… and had come awfully damn close to tearing up the bar trying to find him.

“No fuckin’ way,” he repeated, shaking his head. Sure… Reno’d done him a solid and hidden him from the fuckers. But what were the odds the guy would suddenly turn up exactly when he needed a hand himself? And what the fuck did he mean he’d be ‘seeing him again’?

Reno nervously set the bottle aside and checked it off his list. Maybe it wasn’t the same guy. But then… just how many Wutaiians in black suits were there running around the slums?

That bothered him a bit, too. There was a very specific group of people who dressed like that. Shinra’s Turks. Now there was a bunch of assholes he didn’t want to cross. They’d been known to make people just up and disappear. No body, no blood, no evidence of any kind… One day, some poor sap would be there, going about his life… the next, it was like he vanished into thin air. That sort of trouble Reno definitely did not need.

He exhaled slowly. He was just letting his imagination run away with him. The guy wasn’t a Turk, for Ifrit’s sake. What the fuck would the Turks want with him? He was a sixteen year old slum rat who tended bar and, for the most part, minded his own damn business.

But that begged the question… just who the hell was he? And what did he want?

---

By the time Reno got off work, the possibilities he’d come up with had started to get so ludicrous that he’d half convinced himself he’d just imagined the whole incident. He yawned as he made his way through the streets of Sector Three, towards Two. He needed a decent night’s sleep. His head ached from over-thinking things.

At last, he staggered through the door of Lira’s old room. She’d told him he could have it while he decided whether or not he was going to join her in Wall Market. It beat out his own shitty little hole in the wall by a long shot, so he’d happily taken her up on the offer. Besides… he’d probably spent more nights in her bed than in his own the past few weeks anyway. He’d all but moved in already. This just made the place officially his.

He yawned again, feeling his jaw crack as he made his way to the bathroom, stripping as he went, and climbed into the shower. The water that hit him was much too cold for his taste… but at least it was clean. He sighed softly as it rinsed away the grime of the day. If he had things his way, the water would have been as close to scalding as he could stand it… but the water heater in this building was pretty flaky even on a good day. At best, it managed lukewarm, and that was only if you could beat everyone else in the building to using it in the morning. Reno seldom woke that early.

Clean again, he toweled off and crawled into bed. He dragged the covers over himself, thinking about how much would have preferred to have Lira there with him to keep him warm tonight. He’d have to decide soon, he realized. She’d want an answer one way or another as to whether he was going to stay or go. The redhead fought the urge to groan in frustration, and instead closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him. He’d been doing enough thinking for one day. He’d worry about that in the morning.

---

Four days later, Reno had all but forgotten about the attack over in Sector One and the mysterious Wutaiian. It was just another one of those things you had to put up with when you lived in Midgar’s asshole. No sense in dwelling on it. He’d gone on with his life, gone to work, and picked up his pay for the week.

Thank Ifrit, because he was out of cigarettes again, and the nicotine craving was hitting him hard. Probably he’d be a lot less short on funds if he quit… but dammit, there were only so many things he had to look forward to during the day. He wasn’t quite ready to give up on one of his three major vices just for the sake of saving a few gil.

Sex, smokes, and booze… that was what got him through the day. Booze was even more expensive than smokes, though, and sex was in somewhat short supply at the moment as well, with Lira three sectors away and not that many other takers for a scrawny, usually-broke teenager. That being the case… he really needed a cigarette right now.

“Hey, asshole!”

Reno snickered as he walked up the steps of a nearby building, returning the boy’s friendly wave.

“Please for the love of all things decent tell me you’ve got cigarettes,” he replied.

“You got the gil, I got the smokes,” the other kid answered, grinning widely.

“Don’t know what I’d do without ya, Kel,” Reno laughed, “Gimme whatever I can get for twenty gil.”

Kel smirked and waved him inside. The redhead followed him upstairs to the second floor, and into a small living room. An old woman sat silently in the corner watching a TV with bad reception, her gaze never wavering from the screen. She didn’t acknowledge the two boys. Reno frowned.

“… She’s gettin’ worse,” Kel said quietly once they entered his bedroom, shaking his head. “Hardly ever talks these days. Just sits there, starin’ at the TV. Sometimes it’s not even on. Ma doesn’t think she’ll last the year.”

“… That sucks.” Reno remembered a time when Kel’s grandmother had been a boisterous and friendly lady. The past couple of years, though… she’d gone downhill rapidly.

Kel sighed. “Could be worse, I s’pose. ‘Least she’s got Ma ‘n me to look after her ’til then.” He reached under the bed and hauled out a long wooden box, and extracted three packs of cigarettes.

“Oh, hell, yeah… Come to Reno…” the redhead grinned, handing over his hard-earned cash in exchange.

“Sure I can’t interest ya in somethin’ stronger?”

Reno snorted derisively and shook his head. “I pay ya enough for these things as it is. I sure as fuck don’t need an even more expensive addiction.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied with a shrug. “Hey, how’s Lira doin’? Haven’t seen her around lately.”

“She finally did it.”

“What? Wall Market?” Kel asked, a little surprised. Reno nodded. “Huh. Well, if anyone could make that work, it’d be her. She like it over there?”

“Dunno. Haven’t seen her since I took her over a few days ago. I’ll find out this weekend, though. Gonna go pay her a visit.”

“Say hi for me.”

The redhead laughed. “Why? She hates you.” Kel snickered in response.

“Yeah, I know. So say hi for me. Can’t let her start gettin’ too comfortable over there.”

Reno rolled his eyes and started for the door. “Whatever, man. See ya around.”

A couple minutes later, he stepped out onto the street, and paused long enough to pull a cigarette from one of the packs and place it between his lips. He dug out a match and lit it, taking a long drag off of it and moaning softly in relief as he exhaled. That was more like it.

One problem solved, he headed for home. He’d have to see what he could do for lunch. Now that he had some money on him, he could splurge on something that actually tasted like food instead of just settling for anything that wouldn’t kill him. Pay day was always his favorite day of the week.

As he mounted the stairs to his own lodgings, he couldn’t help but think maybe he ought to try saving a little of it for a change. It never hurt to have a little something squirreled away for emergencies. Like, for instance that time a few years back that he’d gotten so sick he couldn’t work for two weeks straight. No work meant no money, and no money meant no food. No food meant that he’d practically had to crawl outside once he’d recovered and beg before he succumbed to starvation.

Saving gil when you already could barely afford to eat wasn’t exactly easy, though. He sighed and pushed open the door. Who was he kidding? It was impossible on what Wilfred paid him. If he wanted to have any hope of that, he’d have to either talk him into upping his wages, or find a second job… and frankly neither option sounded too promising.

As he walked inside, Reno was suddenly acutely aware that he wasn’t alone. The prickle of hairs on the back of his neck very quickly alerted him to the fact, and he spun around to face the intruder, one hand instinctively going for his knife. A sharp blow to his wrist sent it flying across the room, where it slid under a dresser.

The redhead’s eyes widened in surprise… and then in utter shock as he recognized the intruder. Dark eyes observed him appraisingly, but the man made no farther move to attack. After a moment, he spoke.

“I did tell you I’d be seeing you again.”

~end chapter 2~