Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 74: An Unpleasant Surprise

“This.” Thump. “Really” Thump. “Sucks.”

Reno hauled back and let one more punch fly, hitting the heavy bag hard. It barely moved.

“And why the fuck am I workin’ out on this thing, anyway?” he asked, as he caught his breath. Rude emerged from behind the bag and shrugged.

“Always helps me relax…”

“Tch… Rude, you could send me halfway across the room with one punch if ya really wanted to. All I get outta this is sore knuckles.”

He stripped the gloves off his hands and flexed his fingers. The weekend hadn’t done much to improve his standing with Veld. Tseng, his initial disappointment over his protege’s poor decision making aside, had actually be pretty cool about the whole thing in the end, but the Turk leader was still pissed. Meaning the redhead was still sidelined until further notice, and being excluded from the daily briefings as punishment for ‘making the team look bad’.

And Rodney was getting to be insufferable. All day Friday… all day Monday… and all day today… the bastard had been walking around with an obnoxiously smug look on his face and casually referring to Reno as the ‘black sheep of the family’. It was starting to piss him off… but he didn’t dare start anything over it. He was in a deep enough hole as it was.

Reno tossed the gloves aside and sat down crosslegged on the floor, elbows on his knees as he rested his chin on one palm.

“How is it I’msuch a screw up, Rude?”

The other rookie rolled his eyes.

“Don’t start that again. You’re not a screw up. You just… don’t always stop to think about the consequences before you do something stupid.”

Reno snorted in contempt. “Yeah… that’s kinda the definition of a screw up, don’t you think?”

Rude gave him a soft smack on the back of the head.

“You’re not a screw up,” he repeated. He lowered himself down beside his friend and sighed. “But you know, it wouldn’t hurt you to… maybe grow up a little. You know I’m always gonna be there to bail you out.” He smirked slightly before adding, “Both literally and figuratively. But maybe try not to need me to do it so much?”

“… Yeah. I gotta stop bein’ so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, and you know it,” he continued, “Everyone knows it. You’re just too impulsive for your own good sometimes.”

Reno leaned back, arms behind him to prop himself up.

“So how do I quit bein’ so ‘impulsive’?”

“You train yourself to think before you do,” a voice behind the pair stated firmly, and the redhead yelped, startled.

“Goddammit, Tseng…” he sputtered as he spun around and staggered to his feet. “You seriously get some sorta sick, sadistic pleasure outta doin’ that, don’t you?!”

“Truthfully? Yes. I do,” the Turk lieutenant admitted with a small smile. “Rude, may I borrow your sparring partner for awhile?”

“Yes, sir. I should be getting back to headquarters anyway,” the other rookie replied, getting up and heading for the locker rooms.

“… What’d I fuck up now?” Reno ventured cautiously.

“Nothing…” said Tseng, before adding with a teasing laugh, “… that I’m aware of. I simply haven’t seen much of you since Friday. I wanted to make sure you were alright. It seems you aren’t.”

Reno shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You’re doubting yourself. I had a feeling that might be the case even before I walked in on your conversation a moment ago. I know you well enough by now to expect you to be overly harsh on yourself when you make a mistake… especially one that has ramifications for others. It’s a habit I should have broken you of a long time ago… but for the time being, I think we’ll focus on your other annoying habit. That impulsive nature of yours.”

“How?” the rookie queried, somewhat mystified. Tseng chuckled and shook his head.

“I already told you how. By training you to think before you do. Control is something that must be practiced… so, since you have some time on your hands, being sidelined, I want you to practice it. Come with me.”

Reno obediently followed his mentor out of the training hall and, to his surprise, straight past the locker rooms. Apparently, wherever they were going he wouldn’t need to change. They boarded the elevator and Tseng pressed the button for thirty-one. Reno raised an eyebrow in curiosity. That was the employee gym. Other than the running track, he generally didn’t spend much time there. It was always full of random people from all over the building using the workout equipment or attending one of the company-sponsored exercise classes on their breaks. He much preferred the training hall… unless he was exercising exclusively to flirt with someone.

As they walked inside, he discovered that one of said classes was just getting under way. The man leading it looked up as they entered. He looked positively ancient, with white hair and deep wrinkles.

“Ah, Tseng… namaste…” he said as he approached with an odd little bow. “Is this my new student?”

“… Student?” Reno repeated, glancing over at the Turk lieutenant.

“I thought you might benefit from this class,” he replied, before turning back to the instructor, “This is Reno. Reno, this is Sir Gui. He will be teaching you yoga.”

“… Yoga is s’posed to fix me?” the redhead replied, skeptically.

“No… because you’re not broken,” Tseng chuckled softly, “But it is supposed to help you take a step back and act deliberately rather than impulsively. Just… try it for a few days.”

The redhead cringed. It was so… lame and new-agey. He felt dumb even considering it.

“Do I have to?”

“No… but the alternative is doing all of my paperwork for the week,” Tseng stated, and Reno groaned.

“… ‘kay, fine. Yoga it is.”

---

“Tseng.”

At the sound of his name, the Turk lieutenant turned towards the source of the summons and spotted Tres emerging from his office. He slowed his pace, allowing the other Turk to catch up to him.

“Never got a chance to ask… you get what you needed?”

There was no need for specifics. Tseng knew perfectly well what he was talking about. He hadn’t hid his intentions when he’d asked the man for information on Director Faine’s former future son-in-law, nor did he withhold the reason why he harbored those intentions. Tres has been only too happy to assist him in tracking the man down after hearing what he’d put Reno through.

“It was… dealt with. Thank you,” Tseng replied.

“Hmph… Fair ‘nough,” Tres replied when his colleague didn’t elaborate, “Glad to be of assistance.”

The other Turk slipped off into the lounge, while Tseng continued on. He was sure Tres assumed he’d killed the man… and to be fair, he’d come very, very close to doing just that. So close that Mr. Ferris probably still had some residual hearing loss in the ear that had been closest to the gun when it had fired, since he hadn’t bothered with a silencer.

He had certainly wanted to kill him. Would have, had things ended differently with Reno.

If that worthless piece of slime had had better aim – or even just gotten off a lucky shot – the redhead could be laying in the morgue right now. And it would have utterly destroyed him… to the point that he was quite certain there would be no coming back from it. The only reason Ferris was still breathing was because Reno was not dead, and Tseng had thus been able to maintain a tenuous grasp on his emotions and professionalism. He had settled for terrifying the everliving shit out of the man and strongly implying that the next time they ever crossed paths, it would be the last time.

It had, in fact, been the impetus for his decision to enroll Reno in the yoga class. His breakdown following Mayu’s death aside, it had been a very long time since Tseng had felt such a lack of control… since he’d allowed himself to lose control to that extent. As a boy, he really hadn’t been all that different from his protege in some ways. He’d had a tendency to leap before looking, so to speak. His father had been both quick to discipline him and to teach him discipline. There were times when he’d resented it, of course… many times… but in the end, he was grudgingly grateful for it.

He had no desire to take things quite as far as his father had when it came to Reno… but he was beginning to think that he had, perhaps, gone too far in the opposite direction and been too lax with him. His rookie would benefit from better self-control just as he had, and it could certainly be done without being overly rigid and strict, the way some of his own lessons had been.

It was why he’d asked, instead of ordered. Tseng had never had a choice in the matter. His father had seen it as a serious flaw in his character and taken it upon himself to stamp that trait out of his son, steadily grinding it away over the years. And ultimately, even Tseng himself felt that he was better for it… but their relationship had undeniably suffered as a result – perhaps best evidenced by just how easily his father had rejected him. Tseng had never truly been good enough for the man no matter how hard he tried, and his role in Mayu’s death had been the final straw.

He didn’t want that for Reno… no matter how many foolish mistakes the teen made. He loved him too much to risk driving a wedge between them the way his father had. And… he needed him.

The thought of losing the young man was never far from his mind, but Friday night had resulted in something of a self-revelation for Tseng. Reno was quite possibly the only thing that was allowing him to function as a Turk right now. His nights were restless and all too often sleepless. Guilt still plagued him incessantly. Fear dogged his every step. And the only thing keeping all of that in check was his refusal to allow Reno to see it.

The redhead had already witnessed him at his weakest and most vulnerable… his most broken. And it had frightened him. He didn’t want his protege to live with the same constant worry that he currently did; that someone he deeply cared for might be taken from him. Reno had already lived that nightmare once in his young life. He needed his mentor to be a point of security for him… not a source of paranoia.

Still… it wasn’t easy. After he’d concluded his business with Ferris on Friday, he’d returned home and started drinking. He’d woken up around noon the following day, feeling as though he’d been trampled by wild behemoths… but at least he’d slept. Since then, he’d carefully avoided going overboard, but alcohol had nonetheless become part of his nightly routine… even on the nights when he would be working the following day, which, until recently, had always been times he’d refused to indulge in more than the occasional glass or two after dinner.

He knew it was nothing more than a crutch… but it was one he felt he couldn’t do without at the moment.

And he knew that if Veld learned of it, it would mean an immediate psychological evaluation. He would prefer to avoid the hassle… particularly since, if the person doing the evaluating decreed that he was unfit, it would mean that he’d be sideline right along with his rookie. A few weeks ago, that might not have made a difference to him, but now… now he had finally come to a decision.

He didn’t care about Shinra. He didn’t care about company loyalty. And he most certainly didn’t care about the president or any of the board of directors, save for Rufus. But he did care about his family… and he would do whatever it took to be with them. That meant remaining a Turk. Even if he could never be truly loyal to the company again, he would always be loyal to them… which in the end, wasn’t so great a distinction to make, really. The Turks served the company…

… and Tseng served the Turks.

---

Reno flopped down into the chair at his desk and relaxed. By the end of his class, he’d been starting to feel a bit like a human pretzel… and he’d discovered that he was apparently a lot more flexible than most people were. Somehow he’d never fully realized that before.

It hadn’t been terrible. Actually, there had been a few parts that had even been kind of interesting, and a lot of the different stretches and poses had felt… odd, but surprisingly pleasant. He’d initially only done it to humor Tseng. And to get out of paperwork. By the end of the class, though, he’d decided to legitimately give it a chance and was reserving final judgment until he’d done it a few more times. Who knew… maybe he really would learn something from yoga. There were certainly worse ways he could spend his morning, at any rate.

The door behind him opened, and Rude staggered in, arms laden with… well, Reno wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it certainly looked heavy.

“Need a hand?” he asked.

“… I got it,” the other rookie ground out and shuffled over to his desk before setting his burden down with a loud thump. He dropped into his chair, panting softly as he caught his breath.

“The fuck is that thing?” the redhead queried, eyeing the strange collection of mechanical parts. It looked vaguely insect-like and was the size of a large dog. About the only thing he could recognize was the small camera lens on what he assumed to be the front of the thing.

“Old surveillance drone. Tres wants me to practice with it before he lets me play with one of the newer models… soon as he figures out where he left the remote.”

Reno snickered loudly. “Why didn’t you just wait ’til ya had the damn remote to bring it in here? I’m assumin’ that thing can walk around on its own…”

“Because he wanted it out of his office. It was in the way. You wanna go grab some lunch?”

The redhead grinned. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Hmm… Stupid question, huh?” Rude laughed.

“Hey, guys!” Cissnei’s voice called from just outside the open door. A moment later, she poked her head in. “Did… I hear someone mention lunch?”

“Wanna come?” Rude asked, and the other rookie positively beamed.

“Oh, dear Titan, yes. I overslept and had to skip breakfast this morning. I’m starved.”

“Heh… alright! To the crapateria!” Reno announced, but Cissnei shook her head.

“Actually… That’s why I haven’t just gone to lunch by myself yet. I was sort of wondering… what do you guys think of food carts?”

Rude only shrugged.

“I love just about anything that’ll sell me food,” Reno grinned in response.

“Great! Because there’s a thing going on over in the market place on Twenty-second Street in Sector 4… and I’d really love to get out of the office and stretch my legs a little. Escort duty is super boring when no one actually needs an escort all day. I could use some company, if you guys are interested.”

“Count me in,” said Reno, and Rude nodded enthusiastically.

“Me, too.”

“Awesome! I just have to deliver a message to Veld… Then we can get out of here.”

---

The streets were packed. Besides just the usual shopping crowds, nearly three blocks worth of Twenty-second Street had been blocked off to traffic and were lined with food trucks, carts, and other vendors. The tantalizing aroma of all manner of tasty treats filled the air. Reno’s mouth had started watering before they’d even made it around the corner.

“Holy Ifrit…” he breathed. “I don’t even know where to start…”

He grinned widely as he was reminded of his very first day on the Plate, and the sheer awe that he’d felt staring at the buffet Tseng had taken him to for lunch. This felt a lot like that. Overwhelming… but definitely in a good way.

“Mmm… I know where I’m starting. I smell barbecued pork…” Cissnei replied, “My favorite. Come on, Rude!”

She giggled, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him bodily off towards one of the street carts. Reno stared after them for a moment… and smirked. He knew he hadn’t been imagining things. Looking for any excuse to talk to him… bringing him lunch when he hadn’t been able to get away from everything Tres had dumped on him the other day… helping him out with said everything even though she hadn’t been ordered to… and that excited smile she’d flashed him back at the office when his friend had invited her to join them?

Cissnei had a thing for Rude.

He grinned and shook his head as he headed off in the opposite direction. Far be it from him to be a third wheel. If it worked out, they’d be kind of cute together. Rude could do a lot worse than Cissnei. He’d thought about trying his luck with her himself, in fact… but after what had happened with Remy, hopping in bed with another Turk again didn’t seem like such a great idea. Like the senior Turk, she didn’t strike him as a meaningless one-night stand kind of girl, either, and they’d probably both just end up regretting it. But Rude… he was more the dating type. He might be able to make it work with a girl like Cissnei.

Whatever, though… he was starving and surrounded by food.

Reno made his way through the crowds to the first of many offerings set up along the street… a cart selling some kind of Costan fried dough coated in cinnamon and sugar. He bought two and happily munched on them as he wandered along, debating what to try next… some of that grilled Mideelian catfish on a stick? Or the spicy slow-cooked shredded beef wrapped in a tortilla? Ooooh… or the pizza…

The redhead was pretty sure that, if there was a heaven, this had to be about as close as he’d ever get to it while he was still alive. He spotted his fellow rookies again a little ways ahead of him. Rude seemed to be trying to talk Cissnei into sampling some sort of oddly shaped fruit. Definitely cute together.

He snickered quietly to himself and disappeared into a group heading for the pizza truck before they caught sight of him, too, and got in line.

While he waited, debating on what toppings he wanted, he wondered if Rude would actually go for it with the other rookie. Sure… he wasn’t thinking about Margaret so much anymore, but he hadn’t really said anything to him about looking to date anyone new, either. At last, he shrugged. If he was ready for a new girlfriend, Cissnei certainly seemed interested. If he wasn’t… well… there were lots of other women out there if he let her get away.

The line inched forward, and Reno licked his lips in anticipation. He could practically taste it already.

BOOM!

One moment, the redhead had been standing, moments away from getting his hands on hot, delicious pizza… the next, he was sprawled on the ground several yards away, ears ringing. Thankfully, aside from a few scrapes and a sore hip courtesy of his rather rough landing, he didn’t seem to be injured. He groaned as he picked himself up.

Chaos. As the ringing began to subside, he quickly became acutely aware of the panicked screaming that had filled the air around him. People were running in all directions, pushing and shoving, trying to get… somewhere. Anywhere. Just away from here. It took him a moment to sort out why… though when he saw what they were running from the ‘why’ became alarmingly clear.

There was a large, smoking crater a short distance down the block – obviously where that loud boom had come from. But of far more concern to him right now was what was emerging from behind the smoke. A truck had run through the the barricades at the far end of the block, and several armed men had jumped out, advancing towards the terrified crowd. Several armed Wutaiian men.

“Shit…” he swore, and pulled his PHS from his pocket. First order of business… get some fucking backup down here. He dialed Tseng’s number.

“Tseng here,” the Turk lieutenant answered a moment later.

“… Boss, we got problem,” he said quickly. “Me ‘n Rude ‘n Cissnei are down on Twenty-second street… over in Sector 4. Shit just started blowin’ up, and we got guys with guns ‘n swords coming straight at us.”

“Understood. Backup is on the way,” his mentor replied, and the call immediately dropped. Reno shoved the phone back into his pocket and unclipped the EMR from his belt before hightailing it back in the direction he’d last seen his fellow rookies. He heard gunshots to his left and instinctively ducked, not bothering to check if he was the target or not. At last he spotted Rude.

“Where’s Cissnei?!” he yelled over the commotion.

“Here!” the other rookie called back, forcing her way through a stream of fleeing bystanders. Moments later, the three of them managed to regroup.

“It is a Wutaiian attack?” Cissnei asked, having to shout to be heard over the din, and the redhead nodded.

“Think so… Tseng’s sendin’ help, but we’re on our own ’til they get here. We gotta do somethin’ about this, or a lot of people are gonna die…”

“What’s the plan?” Rude asked.

“Cissnei… see those barricades down at the far end of the street?” he asked, and she quickly nodded. “Go get ’em outta the way or we’re gonna have one hell of a bottleneck down there. Focus on gettin’ people out outta the line of fire. Me ‘n Rude will do what we can to slow these assholes down.”

Rude tossed her his keys. “Use my truck. Shouldn’t have too much trouble moving those things.”

“On it!” she replied and took off at a sprint down the street. Reno turned to Rude.

“There’s too many of ’em for us to handle if we try to do this head on. You go right, I’ll go left. Circle around behind the fuckers ‘n take ’em down when they’re not lookin’.”

“Watch yourself,” Rude replied.

“You too, pal…”

With that, the pair separated, moving as swiftly as they possibly could along the periphery of the chaos. Reno darted between two food trucks and crouched low as he approached the attackers. Luckily, the smoke had yet to fully clear, giving him a small amount of cover as he flanked the group.

They were starting to spread out now, the gunners hanging back and picking targets off from a distance, while those with more close-range weapons tried to corral the men and women of Midgar into a shooting gallery of sorts for them. The redhead gave his EMR a sharp flick, extending it and charged the nearest gunner. The man went down hard, twitching violently from the electric shock. He’d never even known what hit him.

Reno did a quick count. Seven with blades, spears, and even bare fists… at least nine more with firearms. He caught a brief glimpse of Rude as he clotheslined one of them and then vanished again into the smoke.

A bullet grazed his arm, and the rookie dove for cover. Several more shots struck the cart he found himself crouched behind and he growled in annoyance as he drew his own gun. He returned fire, but had little time to aim, as his assailant started shooting again the moment he showed himself, and his shots were much too wide to hit their target. Shooting blindly wasn’t going to do him any good. He needed a better position.

Reno glanced down at his feet and grinned. He kicked aside a broken bicycle and wedged his EMR into the little opening, prying upwards until he could get a decent grip on the manhole cover. Once he’d wrestled it aside, he slipped into the depths, dropping into the wet tunnel below. It was dark and the light from the opening above him only extended a few yards from its source, forcing him to feel his way some forty or fifty feet to the next ladder leading upwards. At last he found it and hurried up to the street again, straining to push the cover out of the way.

The redhead peered out and spotted his target, who, by then, had reached his previous location and was investigating the open manhole. He took aim and fired, landing a shot in the back of the man’s head. He toppled to the ground and laid there, motionless. Reno, on the other hand, was already crawling the rest of the way out of the hole and looking for his next target.

One more shooter succumbed to his EMR – and the weapon sparked wildly when he did – before the welcome sound of reinforcements arriving met his ears. Both Shinra military and additional Turks soon joined the fray, giving the redhead a moment to look around for his fellow rookies. He spotted Cissnei just as she let loose a painful attack on one of the swordsmen with her shuriken, but was having difficulty locating Rude.

A loud scream drew his attention to a large fire that had erupted from one of the vendor’s carts, apparently a small propane explosion. One of the Wutaiian attackers had been caught in it and was rolling on the ground in a desperate attempt to extinguish the flames. And nearby, also on the ground, his eyes finally fell on the figure of his friend. He was shooting at someone a fair distance away, while simultaneously trying to drag himself towards cover, obviously injured.

Reno swapped his EMR for his gun and zeroed in on Rude’s target. He squeezed the trigger and the man dropped to the ground. The redhead sprinted towards the wounded rookie, yelping as he narrowly avoided another barrage of bullets from somewhere behind him and skidded to a halt next to Rude, hauling him upright.

“Move it, pal… I don’t think these guys like us too much!”

Rude grunted and leaned heavily on the smaller rookie as they hobbled towards nearby car. They took cover behind it.

“How bad you hurt?” Reno asked, and Rude shook his head.

“Just caught a bullet in the thigh. I’ll be alright.”

By then, the Shinra troops had advanced and were taking down the remaining Wutaiians… with extreme prejudice. It was quickly over, and the sounds of screaming and gunfire rather abruptly ceased.

“Found ’em!” a familiar voice called out, and both rookie’s jumped slightly at the sound. Reno looked up and spotted Sato grinning widely at the pair of them as he waved the someone else over. Saya appeared next to him a moment later.

“Well thank Odin fer that! Are yeh two still in one piece?”

“Rude’s got a bullet hole in his leg, but other than that we’re okay. You find Cissnei yet?”

“I’m fine,” the familiar voice suddenly piped up as she calmly stepped over the body of one of the Wutaiians, making her way over to them.

“Right then,” Saya replied, “Now that we’ve got the wee rookies all rounded up ‘n accounted fer, let’s leave this mess ta the army, shall we?”

Sato nodded and helped Rude up again, pulling the younger man’s arm around his shoulders. “I’ll take this ‘un on ta Midgar General ta get patched up.”

Reno and Cissnei followed Saya as Sato led Rude off to a waiting medical transport. Few of the Wutaiians seemed to have survived the response by the Shinra military… but before the senior Turk escorted him out off the battleground and stuffed him into the back of Tseng’s car, he caught sight of Luca and Tres dragging one of them off somewhere. Probably for later interrogation.

“Are you two alright?” the Turk lieutenant asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Yes, sir,” Cissnei answered.

“Yep,” the redhead responded.

Tseng nodded and put the car in gear, backing out of its impromptu parking space and heading back towards the Shinra Building.

“Veld wants all three of you debriefed as soon as possible,” he said as they drove, “I’ll drop you off at headquarters and then see to Rude. You’re to wait in the lounge until someone comes to get you.”

“Got it,” said Reno. He grinned widely and leaned forward between the seats. “Ya know, boss… when I called for help, I didn’t expect ya to send the whole Shinra army…”

Tseng shook his head, but never took his eyes off the road.

“That was hardly the ‘whole Shinra Army’… though had I the authority to do so, I’d certainly have sent the rest of it.”

---

Almost an hour later, Reno was still waiting in the lounge. Rude was still at the hospital. Sato had reported in to let Tseng know that they’d be awhile. The rookie’s injury had been assessed as low priority, and there were a lot of people ahead of him. Thus Tseng and Veld had begun debriefing the two rookies they did have on hand. They’d kept Cissnei for what felt like ages… and then they’d both been called to the executive conference room to brief the board on what had happened in Sector 4. Cissnei had popped back into the lounge to let him know what was going on, but then had left to return to her own assignments. He would have happily wandered off to do something productive, as well… but in the first place, he’d been ordered to wait and no one had updated that order – and he was on enough shitlists at present to want to avoid pissing anyone else off – and in the second place… he was still officially sidelined because of said shitlisted status. He didn’t have any standing assignments to work on at the moment.

So instead, he was now on his fourth cup of god-awful coffee – Veld must have made it, because it had the consistency of motor oil – and was studying the freshly acquired dents on his EMR.

That last hit had done something to it. He’d known it the moment the sparks had erupted when it made contact, but hadn’t realized the extent of the damage until he’d returned to headquarters. He wasn’t sure if he’d wrecked it prying up that manhole cover, or if he’d done it when he’d made contact with that last shooter… but it was definitely fried. And he wasn’t happy about it. It was the only one he’d ever used, and he’d grown kind of attached to it. He hoped it could be repaired.

The door to the lounge opened and the redhead looked up and grinned.

“Hey… you’re still alive,” he teased. Rude grunted noncommittally as he carefully made his way into the room on crutches. He didn’t answer properly until he’d planted himself on the couch.

“… I’m on medical restriction for a week,” he replied, glumly. Reno snorted in laughter.

“What? You thought they’d let ya work with only one good leg?” he snickered.

Rude shook his head, and leaned back into the cushions with a faint groan.

“Seriously, though… how ya doin’?” Reno asked.

“Okay. It’s nothing serious. Bullet went clean through with no major damage. Just hurts like everything,” he replied, “… Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Oh, I don’t know… Saving my ass, maybe? Couldn’t’ve made it to cover in time on my own.”

“You’da done the same for me,” Reno replied with a dismissive shrug. Rude rolled his eyes and dragged his fellow rookie into a headlock.

“Can’t you just accept someone’s gratitude?” he chuckled, unapologetically mussing the redhead’s hair.

“Not when he’s got my head stuffed under his fuckin’ arm like a goddamn cantaloupe…” he muttered in a slightly muffled voice. Rude laughed and released him.

“Been debriefed yet?”

Reno shook his head in the negative. “Nah… they did Cissnei first ‘n then got called in to talk to the President. I’m waitin’ on ’em to come back and chew me out.”

“Chew you out for what?” the other rookie asked, an eyebrow rising in surprise from behind his dark lenses.

“Who the fuck even knows? But I’m sure I did somethin’ wrong, and I’m sure I’m gonna hear about it,” the redhead sighed. “Tch… and just to top it all off, I barely even got any lunch.”

“… Why didn’t you just run down to the cafeteria?”

“‘Cause. Tseng ordered me to wait here and I’ve fucked up enough lately, so I’m stayin’ right here ’til someone tells me otherwise. And everyone else has been busy as fuck since we got back so I haven’t been able to ask anyone to go grab me somethin’ before I die of starvation. Only thing keepin’ me from keelin’ over is Veld’s shitastic coffee, and if I drink much more of that, I swear it’s gonna eat a hole in my stomach. Not that that’s gonna stop me.”

Rude chuckled and forced himself upright.

“Where the fuck are you goin’?” the other rookie queried.

“The cafeteria. Wouldn’t want to let you die of starvation right after you saved my life,” he snickered.

~end of chapter 74~