Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 5: The Plate

After several minutes, Reno finally manage to shake himself from the daze he’d fallen into. He turned to his bag and unzipped it, pulling out the items he’d frantically crammed inside barely an hour ago. The first thing he happened upon was the photo of Lira and himself. He stared at it for a moment as it occurred to him that, while she knew he’d been planning on taking the job… she had no idea that he was already here. He wondered if there was a way to get word to her from the Plate… just so she wouldn’t worry. He’d have to ask Tseng about that later. Maybe he’d let him borrow his phone so he could leave a message at the Honeybee for her.

He set the photo on the dresser next to the TV, and frowned at how out of place it looked with its mangled frame and cracked glass.

His clothes, likewise, didn’t look like they belonged anywhere near the pristine closet, but he unpacked them anyway. And Mr. Foo-foo… The bunny quickly earned a comfortable spot, nestled between the pillows on the bed. A moment later Reno picked him up again and sat down at the foot of the bed, clutching the toy to his chest.

This was his dream. This was what he’d wanted since the moment he was old enough to know that the Plate existed. So why was it that, now that he was here, he felt as out of place as that broken picture frame and his worn out clothes?

He stared down at the grime under his nails and took a deep breath. He could do this. He was not going to screw up his one shot at this. Reno’s fingers stroked the stuffed bunny’s ears out of habit, and he laid back on the bed, staring up at the fan on the ceiling. A moment later, he closed his eyes and listened to the soft patter of the rain against his windows.

When he opened them again, he found himself curled around Mr. Foo-foo, in the center of the bed. He swore quietly under his breath. He’d fallen asleep. The redhead pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up. He tucked the toy back between the pillows before hesitantly opening the door a crack and peering out into the hallway.

Tseng met him just a few steps beyond his door.

“Ah… Good. I was just coming to wake you. We have a short reprieve from the weather, and now is the perfect time to get something to eat and take care of a few other necessities.”

Reno felt the heat rising in his face. It was bad enough that he’d fallen asleep like a fucking five year old who’d worn himself out at playtime… but Tseng had caught him, too?

“Uh… H-how long was I out?”

“About a half hour,” Tseng replied. “I’m not surprised. In fact, I expected you to be a little overwhelmed. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t take you to headquarters immediately.”

“… Oh.” Great. Really not the first impression he’d wanted to make.

“If you’re concerned about my opinion of you… don’t be. I prefer to be realistic in my expectations… and I’m certainly not expecting you to be perfect within your first twenty four hours on the Plate. Now… I’d imagine that you’re getting hungry. There’s an excellent Costan restaurant nearby, but if you’d prefer something else…”

“Uh… Anything’s good, long as there’s a lot of it. I’m starved.” He really was, he realized. Not that it was unusual. Reno was seldom not hungry… but for once he hadn’t actually noticed it until food was mentioned. Now that it was on his mind, however, it was suddenly all he could think about.

“In that case… there’s a lunch buffet a few blocks over. If quantity, rather than quality, is your goal, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

---

“Sweet Shiva…” Reno breathed as he stared, eyes somewhat glazed, down the long buffet packed with food. There were only a handful of other intrepid denizens of Midgar who’d decided to take their chances at getting caught in the next round of pouring rain, leaving much of the restaurant empty. Those who were there, however, were unhurriedly loading up their plates from the various offerings along the line. “Where the fuck do I even start?”

The question earned a quiet laugh from Tseng, who steered him to the stack of plates at one end.

“Anywhere you like. There’s no need to rush. You can always come back for more if you’re still hungry.”

“W-wait… I can just come back up here and keep takin’ stuff?!” the redhead asked, and turned to look up at the Turk, eyes almost as wide as the huge plates he was standing beside.

“That is the general idea behind a buffet.”

Reno eyed him suspiciously. “What’s the catch? Can I even afford this?”

“There is none, I assure you. And lunch is on me today… not that this is a particularly pricey establishment. Go on.”

He hesitated half a second longer, still not fully convinced something like this really existed, even in Upper Midgar, before at last seizing a plate and darting to the first section of the buffet. Tseng trailed him at a much more sedate pace.

It was unreal. There was every type of food he could have imagined… along with a few that he’d never have thought of… and he wanted to try them all. He started with the meat. Chicken, beef, pork… and then he added some fish just for good measure, as he’d never had it before. The things you found swimming in the slums weren’t anything you’d ever want to try eating…

By the time he was following Tseng back to a table, the pile of food he’d collected was teetering dangerously. At the last moment, he stuffed a large hunk of bread in his mouth, unable to find room for it elsewhere, and hurried after his new boss. As they sat down, he noticed that Tseng’s plate was nowhere near as overloaded. The Wutaiian glanced over at what Reno had gathered and shook his head slightly, but didn’t otherwise comment.

He started in on the feast, and it was almost orgasmic. Everything tasted amazing. It was easily the best food he’d ever had in his life, and there was so much of it! Surely the residents of the Plate didn’t eat like this all the time, though. There was just no way someone could come here every day and not go broke within a week.

Reno suddenly heard muted laughter from across the table, and glanced up to find Tseng studying him.

“Slow down, Reno… I told you. You needn’t rush. We’re not in any hurry.”

The redhead had to force down his current mouthful before he could answer. “Slow down? You kiddin’ me?” he asked incredulously. “You put me in front of more food than I’ve ever even seen in one place and ya want me to slow down? I mean, seriously… how does this even exist?”

The Turk smiled faintly. “Cheap suppliers and a large customer base. It’s really more an exercise in gluttony than anything else. Normally these sorts of restaurants are quite busy this time of day, but not many people want to be out in this weather. Personally, I’m not really a fan. I tend to gravitate toward food that is made to order… preferably in a quieter, more relaxing setting.”

Reno thought about that for a moment, and the idea that something like this was the cheap option for eating up here was a bit… disconcerting. Particularly given that he still didn’t know how much it was costing them. He was still very much trying to work out whether things up here were the same as things in the slums… just with bigger numbers all around.

“… Can I ask you somethin’, Tseng?”

“Certainly.”

“How much does being a Turk really pay? I mean… hell, that stack of gil you handed me was probably half my pay for the year at the bar. I coulda lived off that for months in the slums. So… what’s that get me up here? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t last me months eatin’ like this everyday.”

Tseng picked up his napkin and dabbed lightly at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re right. It most certainly wouldn’t. Though how far it will go depends largely on how you manage it. Suffice it to say we’re paid more than enough to live very comfortably. But you will be earning that comfort. Our job isn’t easy,” he replied, and then chuckled softly, “For now, though, you don’t need to worry about it. Your well-being is my responsibility. I have no intention of allowing you to starve for lack of funds. Nor will you be overspending on my watch. As your guardian, your finances are under my control until you’re of age, and I will be teaching you to manage them appropriately.”

Reno blinked in surprise. Not just at the revelation that he wasn’t in charge of his own money… but also at how much it didn’t seem to bother him. It was almost a relief in a way. Back home, he’d had to be careful with what he spent… and more often than not there were long stretches of time when he was flat broke for one reason or another no matter how hard to tried to avoid it.

“Reno… Out of curiosity, just how long have you been on your own?” the Turk suddenly asked. The redhead dropped his gaze to his plate.

“… Awhile. Mom died when I was five,” he said with a shrug. “Was in an orphanage for a few years, but I took off when I was around nine. Place sucked.”

“I see,” Tseng said softly. “And you’ve had no adult to care for you since then?”

He shook his head.

“I suppose, then, that’s something you’ll have to get used to again. The Turks are very much a family, Reno. We look after one another. I will look after you.”

He really didn’t know what to say to that. No one had ever offered him that before, let alone simply told him that that was what was going to happen. He’d had to grow up fast down below… Even so, though he’d never admit it to anyone, there were times that he still felt like a scared little boy.

Thunder rumbled again in the distance, snapping him back to the present.

“If you plan on visiting the dessert table, you may wish to do so soon,” Tseng commented. “It sounds as though the next round of downpours isn’t far off… and we do have other errands today.”

Reno’s head snapped up.

“Dessert?” he repeated, enthusiastically.

---

Reno’s eye twitched as the woman gave a slightly annoyed yank on his jacket’s lapels.

“Don’t slouch,” she chided, for at least the sixth time, and muttered something about hems not being straight. Apparently he had terrible posture… at least according to her. Tseng was watching from a chair across the room, but beyond the occasional nod of approval, he hadn’t moved to interfere with the tailor’s manhandling of his new recruit.

The redhead scowled, but made an effort to stand up straight again. He hoped she’d finish soon. It was starting to make his shoulders ache. Truth be told, he was a little afraid to move too much. She’d stuck so many pins into the clothes, he was pretty sure he’d end up bleeding to death if he were to slip off the little pedestal she’d placed him on. It was a bizarre experience… and one he kind of hoped he wouldn’t have to repeat for awhile.

Their first stop after lunch had been a different clothing store for, as Tseng had put it, off-duty attire… which, in English, seemed to mean jeans, t-shirts, collared shirts, socks, shoes, and everything else he’d need to fill up that closet back at the Turk lieutenant’s apartment. That had actually been… kind of fun.

Their second stop, however…

The woman prodded him upright again. He prayed she was almost done. As it turned out, Turks didn’t buy their uniforms off the rack. They were custom made… though, thankfully, Tseng had at least implied that once they had his basic measurements on file, the process wasn’t nearly as involved when new ones were needed.

“Alright… That should do it. Go ahead and take it off.”

The redhead glanced down at his body, and the fabric that might as well have been fastened directly to his skin.

“… How?” he asked, bewildered. He wasn’t sure removing the jacket was even possible without destroying the tedious work she’d just put into placing all those pins. The woman clucked her tongue at him and gently gripped the shoulders of the jacket, holding it in place while he slid free of it. She draped it over her arm and turned to Tseng.

“I’ll have this one ready and delivered tonight… The rest by Monday.”

“Thank you,” the Wutaiian replied, and motioned for Reno to join him. He watched as Tseng signed his name on the invoice, curious. He could only assume he had an account of some kind with the business. In Two, virtually every transaction was straight up cash or goods… No legitimate business let you buy shit on credit. Only the drug dealers did that… and only so that their ‘clients’ ended up in debt to them for life so they could use them to transport their product to other sectors.

The Turk turned and collected his recruit, guiding him out the door. The wind was picking up again, and the first drops of the coming shower were already falling as they climbed into his car.

“I think that covers your immediate needs… at least until tomorrow.”

“What happens tomorrow?” the redhead asked.

“You’re first day at headquarters. Which means we’ll be quite busy visiting several different departments, as well as the Turk offices. I’ll warn you now… It’s going to be a long day. I suggest you get to bed early tonight. We’ll be leaving at seven thirty in the morning.”

Reno had to forcibly bite back a groan that he suspected wouldn’t be much appreciated. Seven thirty sounded ungodly early.

“Why’s it gonna be so long?” he asked instead. Tseng started the engine and pulled into the street, heading for home.

“The Shinra Building is seventy stories high,” the Wutaiian replied, smirking faintly, “The tour alone takes most of the afternoon.”

---

No matter how hard he tried, sleep just wouldn’t come. Reno turned his head towards the alarm clock on the nightstand. Red numerals glowed back at him, informing him that it was now one forty-seven a.m. He sighed in frustration and rolled over onto his stomach.

It just figured. The one time he actually cared about being well-rested, and he couldn’t fucking fall asleep to save his life.

The day had just been too much. Everything had been breakneck pace, and he’d barely had time to process any of it while it was happening. His brain was working overtime to catch up. It was hard to believe that less than twenty four hours ago, he’d been on his own down in the slums, going about his day just as he had every day, for years. And then suddenly some random fucker knocks on his door, gives him fifteen minutes to pack his shit, and stuffs him into a helicopter bound for the Plate.

If anyone had told him they’d gone through what he had today, he’d have thought they were out of their damn mind.

And, of course, it didn’t exactly help that the butterflies in his stomach had mutated into some sort of insectoid hellspwn that wouldn’t hold still for two seconds. He could remember ever being so nervous in his life. What if he screwed something up? What if the rest of the Turks weren’t as impressed with him as Tseng claimed to be? What if he embarrassed Tseng so badly that the Wutaiian reconsidered this whole damn thing and booted him back to the slums ten minutes after they got to work?

Worse… what if he just plain couldn’t handle it? The more he thought about it, the more utterly ludicrous the whole idea of him being a Turk seemed. He still didn’t really know why the hell Tseng had chosen him.

Reno groaned loudly and flopped over onto his back again. Laying here like this was driving him nuts. After another minute or two, he sat up and hauled himself out of bed, grabbing his cigarettes off the nightstand. He pull one from the pack and stuck it between his lips, and was a half-second away from striking a match to light it when he remembered that he wasn’t allowed to smoke in the apartment.

“Goddamn it…” he sighed. It was still raining heavily… but that didn’t stop him from dragging on a pair of soft, gray sweatpants and creeping out of his bedroom. The apartment was dark and silent. Even the light beneath Tseng’s door was gone. Reno crept on silent feet down the hallway and out the front door, huddling beneath the small overhang that sheltered it. Lightning lit up the sky as he finally lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply.

The night air was chilly against his bare chest, but at the moment, he didn’t care. It was better than lying awake, staring into the darkness of his bedroom for the next five hours. A strong gust blew an errant shower of raindrops into his little alcove, and he hurriedly shielded the cigarette from the onslaught until it shifted again. He flicked some ash into the wind and sank down to the ground, leaning up against the wall.

More than anything, he wished he had someone to talk to. That would have calmed his nerves in no time. Being alone with his thoughts, though… that was torture when he was anxious about something. There was always someone up late in Sector Two to chat with. Here, though… save for the storm and the mako-powered streetlights, the whole block was quiet and dark. Reno finished off his cigarette pulled out another one. As he was struggling to get it to light, he failed to notice that the door behind him swung inward.

“Trouble sleeping?”

The redhead startled violently and spun to face the source of the voice, wide eyes falling on Tseng’s silhouette in the doorway.

“For fuck’s sake… Don’t sneak up on a guy like that!”

“Don’t allow yourself to be snuck up upon, and it won’t be an issue,” Tseng countered, though judging by the amused look in his eyes, Reno was pretty sure he wasn’t being entirely serious about the recommendation. “Come back inside. I’ll make you some tea.”

~end of chapter 5~