Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 68: Lessons and Old Friends

Ryu frowned at his target sheet as he called it in from the end of the range. He just couldn’t seem to keep a tight grouping, no matter how much he practiced. Were it permitted, he would gladly have limited himself to materia, exclusively. But Turk regulations stated that all personnel must be proficient with a firearm, even if it was only a backup weapon.

Materia was so much more intuitive, though. He hardly had to concentrate at all anymore for simple spells, and his aim with magic, unlike his aim with a gun, was superb. Firing a gun was like having his right hand tethered behind his back and being forced to write out the entire text of one of the Great Wutaiian Tragedies in traditional calligraphy with his left. He could probably do it… eventually… but the results wouldn’t be pretty.

That was why he was here… alone… on the firing range, at seven ‘o clock on a Friday morning, nearly an hour before he had to report for duty. He’d been there since five… unfortunately with very little to show for the effort. Ryu shook his head and replaced the target, pressing the button to send it downrange, and reloaded his weapon.

He heard the door off to his far right open, admitting yet another early-morning shooter, but paid them little mind, as he emptied half of his magazine into the target. When he paused in his firing, he heard a derisive snort from directly behind him.

“I wonder…” a cool and calculating voice said, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as he recognized it, “… just how much the company is spending on wasted ammunition in the effort to make you minimally competent with that gun.”

Ryu somewhat nervously set his weapon down on the shelf in front of him and slowly turned, and found Rufus Shinra watching him with a somewhat bored expression.

“Sir…” he managed, in greeting.

“Hmph…” was the vice president’s only reply before he strode to what was apparently his preferred lane and began to set up his target. Only once his gaze was directed elsewhere, did Ryu dare breathe again. He could feel his heart still hammering in his chest. It was one thing to meet the vice president of the Company with his fellow rookies, or one of the senior Turks. Unexpectedly running into him alone, however… that was intimidating.

And, also, he suddenly realized, an opportunity.

What were the odds that he would have the man’s ear all to himself again anytime soon? It was sheer coincidence that they’d both shown up here, on their own, at the same time for the same activity. He could use this fortuitous meeting to finally make a good impression on the executive. He just had to find the courage to do so.

Ryu took a deep, calming breath, steadying himself, and cautiously made his way over to Rufus, who by then, was loading his own weapon.

“Perhaps… you have some advice for me, sir?” he ventured, trying to ignore the sudden dryness of his mouth. Rufus paused in the middle of slipping a bullet into the clip he was loading, only to resume a moment later.

“Finding your instructor’s tutelage inadequate, are we?” he quipped, dryly, without looking up. Ryu wasn’t sure how to answer… or more specifically, he wasn’t sure what answer was expected of him. Truthfully, Reno… did know what he was doing, despite the complaints to the contrary Ryu had made to Victor all last week. He’d gotten a little more insight into the man during their assignment yesterday, and his fellow rookie’s advice to give the senior Turk a fair chance had been running through his head ever since. Perhaps he had made a bit of a snap judgment regarding the redhead.

But, still…

‘Tell him what he wants to hear,’ a voice in the back of his mind whispered. His father’s advice. Never tell someone above you the whole truth. Better to temper it a bit, particularly when the person you’re telling it to has a temper. Work hard. Keep your head down. Smile and nod. Agree. That’s how you got ahead in life.

“Well, sir… I… can’t imagine we’re being taught by the best the Turks have to offer. After all, what can one expect of a slum rat?” he answered, and he felt somewhat guilty and ill at ease just saying the words. His personal distaste for Reno’s training style aside, he’d done nothing to deserve being thrown under the bus like that.

Another bullet clicked loudly into the clip, snapped into place with far more force than necessary.

“What did you say?” the executive all but hissed, and Ryu felt a chill run down his spine in response.

Why in the Nine Hells had he said it? Not only was it a low thing to do… judging by his tone, it wasn’t what the younger Shinra wanted to hear at all. He could hear pure, unadulterated venom in the man’s voice. Ryu wasn’t sure just how badly he’d miscalculated, but he knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“I… I…” he stammered. The vice president calmly set the clip down next to his weapon and turned to face the now-terrified rookie, cold eyes staring at him in utter disdain, and the young Wutaiian instinctively shrank in on himself. Something about that look… It felt as if his entire worth had been judged and utterly dismissed as lacking.

“How many times have you saved my life?” Rufus asked, gaze never wavering.

“S-sir?” Ryu replied, swallowing sharply.

“It’s a very simple question. One that I imagine even you would know the answer to. How many times have you saved my life?” he repeated, drawing each syllable of the inquiry out, as though speaking to a small child. The rookie forcibly repressed the shudder that threatened to run down his spine.

“None. Sir.” His voice shook embarrassingly as he said it.

“Hmm…” Rufus said, nodding as if contemplating the rookie’s answer. “Do you know how many times the Slum Rat has saved my life?” he demanded, an almost predatory look in his eyes now.

“… No, sir,” the rookie replied in barely more than a whisper, his own eyes going wide. Rufus smiled an icy smile.

“Frankly… neither do I at this point, it’s become such an annoyingly frequent occurrence,” he said, and Ryu suddenly began to realize just how badly he’d screwed up. “Do you know why I refer to him as such?”

“N-no, sir…” Ryu only just managed to get out, wishing with all his being that he was anywhere but here right now.

“Because he’s my subordinate. I have the right to speak to him as I see fit,” Rufus replied, his face growing gradually darker, “Just as I have the right to speak to you in any way I see fit, you mewling little toady. You, however, do not have that right… no matter how irritating and idiotic he may be. You are his subordinate… and you would do well to remember that, rather than making this feeble attempt at ingratiating yourself to your superiors.”

Ryu couldn’t even squeak out a ‘Yes, sir’ in response. His voice had utterly left him. The chilling smile returned to the vice president’s face, as he savored the young Turk’s fear.

“Incidentally… the Slum Rat was the one who taught me to shoot,” he said, still smiling at him unnervingly, “Now… remove yourself from my general vicinity.”

“S-sir?” Ryu queried, by that point all ability for rational thought having deserted him.

“Get. OUT!” Rufus demanded, and the rookie’s eyes widened momentarily before he turned tail and fled. He didn’t stop running until he reached the elevator and the doors had shut firmly behind him.

---

At around seven-thirty, the intercom on Rufus’ desk gave a faint buzz of static, and a moment later his secretary’s voice intoned “Sir? Tseng Itsudake to see you.”

Rufus chuckled quietly to himself. He’d known it wouldn’t be long, particularly given the man’s penchant for arriving at work early.

“Send him in,” he replied. A moment later the Turk lieutenant shuffled himself through the door, turning somewhat awkwardly on his crutches to close said door behind him.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Rufus asked, smirking. Tseng sighed, exasperated.

“You know perfectly well why I’m here, sir. Was it really necessary to utterly traumatize one of my rookies?”

“Mmm… Necessary?” he mused, “No, strictly speaking, I suppose it wasn’t necessary…”

“Rufus…” Tseng admonished him.

“You know how I feel about suck-ups and sycophants, Tseng. I will not tolerate it, especially not among the Turks. If that means terrifying a rookie to the point of him requiring a change of pants, then so be it.”

“Yes, sir,” the senior Turk replied, resigned. Rufus gestured to the chair in front of his desk, and Tseng gladly took a seat, setting his crutches aside. “Just what was it he said to you, anyway? All I could get out of him was your name and steadfast proclamations that his career was over…”

Rufus waved dismissively. “Oh, nothing of any particular consequence. It was just rather blatantly obvious that he was telling me what he believed I wanted to hear rather than anything of substance.” His smirk widened noticeably. “Is he really lamenting the irreparable damage done to his career?”

“Sir…”

“I make no apology for my actions, Tseng. It’s best he learn his place early,” the Shinra heir replied, rolling his eyes, “Ramuh knows that Slum Rat of yours never did, and just look at how he turned out.”

Tseng chuckled softly. “Ah… I see. Ryu said something disparaging against Reno hoping to gain your favor, didn’t he?”

Rufus snorted softly. “And just what makes you draw that nonsensical conclusion?”

“Experience,” Tseng said, smiling slightly, “And the fact that you’re very protective of the few people in whom you place your trust, despite pretending otherwise.” He shook his head. “Besides which, Reno has had some minor concerns about Ryu that he recently brought to my attention in that regard.” He sighed quietly, as if he already knew what the answer to his next request would be. And, Rufus mused, he likely did know. “Please don’t do that again, sir. My rookie Turks tend to be under enough strain just in the normal course of their training… They don’t need extra.”

“I refuse to make promises I don’t intend to keep,” the younger man said, smiling widely at the Turk, “But so long as they don’t do anything that foolish again, they have nothing to worry about, now do they?”

“Yes, sir…” Tseng replied, biting back a laugh. He reached for his crutches.

“And when are you going to be rid of those Ramuh-forsaken things?” the vice president asked.

“According to Dr. Ward, it will likely be another two weeks before the Leviathan-be-damned cast is removed, and then I will need to retrain the muscle… which could take anywhere from two to six weeks before it’s entirely back to normal. I am, obviously, hoping to be on the lower end of that time frame.”

“Hmph… the Slum Rat fell off the same bridge. How did he manage to walk away without a scratch?” Rufus asked, a vaguely curious note in his voice. Tseng chuckled.

“Reno had the good fortune to be unconscious at the time he fell. I, on the other hand,jumped. Poorly,” he replied, and Rufus raised an eyebrow. “My less than graceful leap aside, though, a person is far less likely to sustain injury in such a fall when unconscious. They don’t realize what’s happening, and thus the body doesn’t react to the situation. Where muscles would normally tense on sheer instinct as they brace for an impact, they instead remain relaxed and more pliant… more likely to be capable of absorbing the shock rather than straining against it.”

Rufus smirked slightly. “I’ll have to remember that should I ever find myself falling from great height.”

“Kindly try to avoid doing so, sir…” Tseng deadpanned, “Or at the very least, wait until I’ve retired and don’t have to witness it.”

The executive snorted softly, and waved him off with a somewhat wry smile. “I’ll take it under consideration. Go and see if your new rookie has stopped sobbing yet.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng answered, getting to his feet.

---

Reno yawned as the elevator carried him upwards on Friday morning. He’d actually come in a little early today – he supposed, to make up for dragging his ass in late yesterday – and he’d skipped his first morning coffee to do so. Hopefully, Veld hadn’t turned on the coffeemaker in the office yet. He needed caffeine, but drinking the Turk leader’s idea of coffee was definitely the option of last resort. The elevator chimed cheerfully as it reached his destination, and he stepped out into the hallway of Turk headquarters…

… only to be met by the sound of concerned voices coming from the direction of the lounge.

Reno frowned and followed the sound to its source, pausing in front of the door for a moment, before finally shrugging and pushing it open. He was greeted by the sight of three of the team’s rookies surrounding one of their own.

“It’s over…” Ryu moaned pitifully, from what looked like a decidedly awkward position on the couch. He was seated in the middle, bent over with his head between his knees, his hands on either side of his head, and looking for all the world like he was about five seconds from spewing his breakfast across the lounge floor. Victor and Petra were on either side of him, apparently making an effort to comfort their comrade, while Liam somewhat hesitantly crouched in front of him, apparently trying to coax him out of the uncomfortable little ball he’d curled himself into.

“… The hell’d I miss?” the redhead asked, looking to the two older rookies for answers. Victor lifted his gaze to the senior Turk, an expression of relief crossing his face.

“Ryu apparently had… an encounter. With the vice president.”

Reno blinked in surprise. “What kinda encounter, exactly?”

“We’re not entirely sure, sir…” Petra piped up.

“Yeah…” Liam added, “He just keeps saying ‘It’s over’ and ‘I’m doomed’…”

“Umm…” The redhead glanced around the room and spotted the coffee pot sitting, abandoned, on the side table, the water inside never having made it to its destination. Well… it wasn’t quite the same as tossing the kid into the pool, but…

He shrugged and picked it up, before shooing the other rookies out of the way… and then unceremoniously doused Ryu with its contents.

The Wutaiian rookie sputtered, the shock finally drawing him out of his panicked state, and he looked up at the senior Turk, blinking owlishly as water dripped down his face. Reno snickered at his thoroughly confused, and still notably dismayed, expression.

“Heh… ‘kay now that I got your attention…” he said, “What the hell’s goin’ on?”

Ryu shook his head. “My career is over… that’s what,” he groaned again, “The vice president is going to have me summarily fired for insubordination…”

“The fuck’d ya do to piss off Rufus?” Reno asked, raising an eyebrow. Granted, it could be any one of several dozen possibilities, really. If the little shit was in a bad enough mood, just existing in his presence could be enough to get on his nerves… but even so, this seemed a bit excessive, even for the sometimes surly executive. Rufus could be rude, condescending… even downright mean at times… but he was seldom wholly irrational, and he didn’t tend to make major decisions – like firing a Turk – on a whim. Well… not since he’d “fired” Tseng and himself during a minor temper tantrum in Kalm a few years back, anyway. That had lasted all of maybe an hour, and he’d never truly been serious about it to begin with.

Though, as far as that went, Reno certainly wouldn’t put it past him to make such a threat to a rookie who didn’t know any better…

“He attempted to gain favor with the vice president,” a voice interjected from the doorway, and the redhead turned to see his mentor standing at the entrance to the room, looking vaguely amused. Reno’s face split into a grin.

“Ooooh… yeah, for future reference, don’t ever try ‘n suck up to Rufus. You’re not gonna be doin’ yourself any favors. It mostly just ticks him off.”

“What future?” Ryu lamented. Reno glanced over at Tseng, who calmly shook his head, a faint smile on his lips.

“Tch… Relax already. You’re not gettin’ shit-canned.”

Tseng chuckled softly as he made his way across the room. “And I thought you could be melodramatic at times,” he snickered, patting his protege on the shoulder before taking up the seat recently vacated by Petra.

“Just gonna pretend I didn’t hear that…” the redhead shot back.

“Pretend all you like, it doesn’t make it any less true,” Tseng teasingly retorted before turning his attention back on Ryu. “I think we need to have a little talk. Would the rest of you excuse us, please?”

The other three rookies hurried to remove themselves from the lounge, and Reno turned to follow them.

“Not you, Reno,” Tseng called after him. The redhead shrugged and nudged the door shut once the other rookies were through it, and turned back to the pair on the couch. “Now… I’ve already spoken to the vice president. Would you care to explain your side of the story?”

Ryu stared down at his hands and sighed.

“I was on the firing range, practicing. Vice President Rufus came in to practice as well. I… thought it would be a good opportunity to perhaps make a better impression on him than I had up until that point…”

“By doing what, specifically?” Tseng asked. Ryu glanced up at the redhead and visibly cringed. The Turk leader frowned. “Willing to say it behind his back, but not to his face?”

The redhead raised an eyebrow, slightly intrigued. Obviously, the conversation, such as it was, had been about him. Aside from the fact that Reno was presently the only other person in the room, Tseng didn’t often take that borderline furious tone with the rookies unless they’re fucked up royally… or done something that he found personally offensive.

“I… don’t quite remember exactly what was said, sir, but… I implied that Reno wasn’t a suitable instructor. And… I referred to him as a slum rat,” the rookie quietly admitted, “I’d heard the vice president call him as much, and… and I thought…”

“You foolishly thought you could win points with him if you joined him in making derogatory remarks regarding a fellow Turk,” the Turk lieutenant finished for him.

“Yes, sir,” Ryu murmured, “I’m sorry, sir.”

“I’m not the one to whom you owe that apology,” Tseng replied, cooly.

Ryu slowly raised his eyes again to meet Reno’s, and the shame was plainly visible on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he managed. Reno snickered and shook his head. The kid was definitely not going to forget this lesson anytime soon.

“Tch… please. I’ve been called way worse.”

“You’re… not angry?” Ryu queried, more than slightly perplexed. The redhead shrugged again.

“Nah. Why should I be? I am a slum rat,” he replied, grinning.

“For Leviathan’s sake, Reno…” Tseng sighed, which only caused his protege’s grin to widen.

“The Boss doesn’t like that name. Thinks it’s disrespectful,” Reno snickered, sitting down on the opposite side of Ryu. “Me, personally? I couldn’t care less. I’m not ashamed of growin’ up in the Slums.”

“Personal feelings aside,” Tseng cut in, getting the conversation back on track, “There’s something I want you to be very clear on, Ryu. Turks come from all walks of life. Some our very best, in fact, have come from the Slums. We do not judge our comrades based on where they were born, how educated they may or may not be, or their family ties. We judge them on ability and what they contribute to the team. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir… I understand,” Ryu said in a deferential tone. He glanced up, tentatively seeking out Tseng’s gaze. “A-am… I going to be officially reprimanded for this, sir?”

Reno couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips, and didn’t bother trying, in spite of the exasperated glare he was receiving from his mentor for it.

“That’d be some kinda record, wouldn’t it, Boss? Has there ever been a rookie that got reprimanded his first week on the job?”

“As I recall, you came rather dangerously close…” Tseng replied, shooting him a pointed look, before smirking slightly, “But no… to my knowledge, there hasn’t. And Ryu will not have the dubious honor of being the first. Though I don’t, strictly speaking, approve of the method, Rufus was more interested in making a point with you than actually seeing you punished for your transgression. He made no request for any further disciplinary action.”

“Oh, thank Leviathan…” Ryu breathed.

“I would impress upon you, however, that such very well might not be the case were you to ever find yourself in the cross-hairs of any other member of the executive board. We are not here to ingratiate ourselves to those who sign our paychecks. We are here to protect the Company’s interests and it’s executives,” Tseng continued, “I’m not entirely certain what you hoped to accomplish through earning Rufus’ favor, but you’re very fortunate that the vice president is… a rather unique case. He’s friendly to the Turks to a certain extent… though I don’t advise you to abuse his good will. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir…”

Tseng nodded and stood, reaching for his crutches again.

“Then as your day is due to begin shortly, I’ll leave you with Reno.”

He made his way to the door and turned the knob… only to have four additional rookies – Zephyr having apparently joined the group at some point, as well – fall in a heap at his feet. He turned to the redhead.

“I think perhaps you should try to work in a refresher course on stealth today…” he said, shaking his head in mild amusement. Reno snorted in laughter.

“Subtle, guys…” he snickered, watching them sheepishly pick themselves up and scurry off. Tseng quickly followed, disappearing into the hallway. Reno levered himself off of the couch and snagged the coffee pot from where he’d set it down. “I don’t know ’bout you… but I need my caffeine fix. Now.”

“Sir?” Ryu hesitantly called out as the redhead turned to go and fetch more water. Reno paused, glancing back. “I… truly am sorry for –”

“Tch… Ya already apologized. Matter’s closed, far as I’m concerned,” he said, cutting the kid off, and snickering, “Now the Boss, on the other hand… he might be slightly annoyed with ya for awhile yet.” Ryu groaned. The redhead grinned faintly and leaned against the door frame. “Look… I pulled some pretty fuckin’ stupid shit as a rookie, too. Tseng’s kinda pissed right now, but he’ll give ya another chance. Just, ya know… learn from the experience ‘n don’t pull somethin’ like that again.”

“… For the record, I… didn’t mean what I said to the vice president,” said Ryu. The redhead flashed him a wide smirk.

“Good… ’cause you’re gonna be stuck with me for awhile,” he laughed.

“You’re far more forgiving than I think I might have been in your shoes, sir…” the rookie replied.

“Yeah, well… I don’t like holdin’ grudges, ‘n like I said, I fucked up plenty as a rookie. Seems kinda hypocritical to hold it against you,” the redhead shrugged. He suddenly grinned. “‘Sides… I don’t think there’s anything I could do that’d be better payback than Rufus scarin’ the everlivin’ shit outta ya.”

---

Several hours later, Reno sank into the chair behind his desk with a loud groan. The morning’s training had been intense. Between the sparring sessions and taking Tseng’s suggestion to review stealth with the rookies – which had inevitably meant that he’d spent the better part of two hours trying not to allow them to catch him unaware – he was more than ready for a break.

Said break was interrupted by a knock at his office door.

“Yeah?” he called out, propping his feet up on his desk. Tseng pushed open the door and made his way inside, pausing briefly to look around the room.

“I thought you were going to clean up this mess…” he said.

“… I did,” Reno replied. Tseng pointedly eyed the overflowing trashcan and the general disorder of the space. “Well… I started, anyway.”

His mentor shook his head but didn’t comment further on the matter.

“How was training?” he asked.

“Eh… not too bad. Let ’em play hide ‘n seek with me around the parking deck for awhile,” he replied, grinning slightly. “Um… speakin’ of… Ya mind if I borrow Sykes on Monday? If he doesn’t end up with anything more important to do, I mean?”

“For… ?” Tseng prompted.

“The guy’s the size of a fuckin’ car ‘n he can still out-sneak me,” Reno snickered. “I mean… I can handle the training myself, but I just thought the rookies might benefit from a little extra challenge.”

“Absolutely,” Tseng replied. His mentor suddenly chuckled softly.

“What’s so funny?” the redhead asked, and Tseng smiled as he cleared off one of the chairs in front of the younger Turk’s desk and took a seat.

“Nothing, really. It’s just that… when Veld began assigning more training duties to me, it took me quite some time before I was willing to actively reach out to the others for assistance in areas where someone else surpassed my skill.”

“Why?” Reno asked, cocking his head to one side.

“I… was perhaps a bit overly prideful at times when I was younger,” Tseng admitted. “And very intent upon proving myself. I consider myself rather fortunate that you’re a bit more modest than I ever was… at least in that regard. I’m fairly certain I caused Veld any number of headaches, attempting to do everything on my own for a time.”

The redhead laughed softly and folded his hands behind his head, leaning back in the chair.

“Well, we know there’s at least one area of training I’m definitely gonna need some help in…” he commented, drawing a slight smirk from his mentor.

“Materia,” Tseng acknowledged. “And I imagine Ryu will be getting a bit antsy before long regarding that subject, as it’s his primary fighting style, and we don’t really have an established training or practice regimen for it.”

Reno frowned and took his feet off of the desk.

“Yeah… I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you ’bout that. I mean… I know we’re still a ways off for that training with everyone ‘cept maybe Petra… but I’m not gonna be much good to anyone when it comes to magic, and Ryu’s already like… lightyears beyond just about everyone on the team. I… kinda don’t really know how I’m gonna handle that.”

“You’re right. You are at a distinct disadvantage in that subject,” Tseng replied. “And given that it’s been quite likely over a decade since we’ve managed to recruit a true materia specialist before they were cherry picked by SOLDIER or the Materia Corps, so is everyone else. It would be a challenge even for one of the other Turks who can use magic.”

“Yeah,” Reno sighed, “And ’cause of me, SOLDIER’s not in any hurry to do the Turks any favors, so lettin’ him practice with them is probably out.”

“It’s not your fault Director Faine is one to hold onto a grudge like a Nibelwolf with a fresh kill,” Tseng said, firmly, “But… as you say, our strained relationship with her department does present a small logistical problem, seeing as all of the facilities appropriate for high-level materia training are located in her domain.” He smirked faintly. “Fortunately… I happen to be on very good terms with a certain lieutenant commander in Junon who also specializes in materia-based combat.”

“You wanna send him to Junon to practice with the Materia Corps?” the redhead replied, blinking in surprise.

“It’s admittedly a bit of a commute… but I think we can manage to work it into his schedule once or twice a week, and Petra might benefit from such an arrangement as well, if she’s interested in expanding her knowledge of the skill beyond weapon augmentation.”

Reno nodded. It did make a lot of sense. After all, the Junon Materia Corps were kind of the undisputed experts when it came to magical combat. Even SOLDIER often sent their new recruits to Junon for awhile to train with them. Hell, Tseng had sent him to Junon when he was struggling with the skill… not that it accomplished much in his case, but still…

“Um… ya think I could maybe go with on occasion?” the redhead somewhat hesitantly inquired. “I mean… I know I’m probably never gonna be able to do much more than zap myself with that shit, but… I gotta admit, I wouldn’t mind bein’ a little more knowledgeable, if I’m gonna be one of the people the rookies are comin’ to first with questions ‘n shit…”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Tseng replied, “Though… I believe we’ll hold off on sending you along until I’m finally rid of these damned crutches. As important as it is for you to continue to learn, I’m afraid I do rely on you to excess at the moment.”

“Heh… No rush, Boss,” the younger Turk snickered.

“While we’re still, more or less, on the subject of Ryu… how is he after his little scare this morning?”

Reno grinned and let out a laugh. “He’s definitely been on his best behavior. Ya know, I know you said you didn’t approve of what His Royal Brattiness pulled, but… I kinda think Ryu mighta needed the reality check.”

“You may be right about that. Though I still would argue that risking permanent psychological damage was not the way to go about delivering said reality check.”

The redhead shrugged. “Hey, if it works, it works. I’m still gonna keep an eye on the kid, though. He’s definitely got somethin’ to prove. Might need a little help provin’ it in the right way.”

“Let me know if you notice any further issues,” Tseng replied, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Nah… but I got a lunch date in a few. Ran into an old friend from Two yesterday… workin’ at the fuckin’ Silver Swan, of all places. Gonna go catch up ‘n find out how the fuck that happened.”

“Well… your friend would hardly be the first denizen of Sector Two to wind up with a good job on the Plate,” his mentor chuckled.

“Heh… true,” Reno laughed.

---

Reno stretched his arms over his head for a moment, working out some of the soreness from the earlier training sessions that had begun to settle into the muscles, as he gazed out at the street from his table. He glanced at his watch, faintly grumbling to himself.

“Hey! Reno!” a voice called out and he looked up, immediately spotting the person he’d been waiting on.

“Tch… You’re late,” he said, grinning at his friend.

“Heh… Yeah, sorry to keep ya waitin’. Could not get away from the Hades-forsaken desk. This stuck up bitch kept demandin’ more ‘n more free shit ’cause room service screwed up her breakfast order this mornin’,” Kel replied, shaking his head, “I mean… we’re s’posed to be accomodatin’ – customer’s always right ‘n all that bullshit – but come on… There’s a limit, man. You order yet?”

“Nah… I just got here a little while ago. Figured I’d be polite ‘n wait,” Reno replied, and then smirked, “You had about thirty seconds before I said the hell with it ‘n flagged down the waitress anyway.”

Kel laughed and grabbed one of the menus on the table. A few short minutes later, the pair had placed their orders, and settled back to wait.

“Fuck, man… I still can’t believe I just ran into you after all this time,” Reno snickered.

“You can’t believe it? I half thought I was lookin’ at a ghost when I saw you come in,” Kel laughed. “Seriously, man… The Turks? How in the everlivin’ fuck did you manage to pull that one off?”

“Boss just… showed up one day,” he said with a shrug. “I was comin’ back from droppin’ Lira off in Wall Market. Took a little shortcut I shouldn’t’ve ‘n got jumped by some strung out junkie. Next thing I know, there’s some guy in a suit, pointin’ a gun at ‘im ‘n tellin’ him to let me go. Then he shot ‘im right between the eyes when he didn’t.”

“And that’s how you became a Turk?” Kel asked, incredulously. Reno snorted.

“Yeah… no. That’s how I damn near shit myself,” he grinned drawing a laugh from his friend. “Nah… he just left me there. Then he turned up again a few days later. Inside my apartment… which is when I about shit myself the second time.”

“Heh… Oh, yeah… If I was lookin’ for a Turk, you’d definitely be my first choice,” Kel sniggered.

“Anyway… turns out he was this guy I did a solid for one night at the bar. Didn’t know he was a fuckin’ Turk at the time, but… I guess I made one hell of an impression, and when they were in the market for some fresh meat, he decided to come pay me a visit. Made me an offer, ‘n I ended up sayin’ yes. Soon as I did, I was on the next helicopter topside. Barely even gave me time to pack.”

“Unreal...” Kel said, shaking his head.

“Heh… Tell me about it. What about you? How’d you manage to get outta that shithole?”

Kel shrugged. “Pure luck, mostly,” he replied. “After Gran died, Mom ‘n me decided we’d finally had enough of Two ‘n started saving. Took awhile, and I definitely made a few enemies in the process, but we eventually made it over to Three, ‘n then to Five. Then, since we were so close to the station in Wall Market, Mom managed to get hired on as cleaning staff, topside. She got me in at the Swan as a bellboy.”

“Heh… so where’s the luck come in with this story?” Reno snickered.

“Well… awhile after I got the job, the daytime concierge just up ‘n vanished. No idea where he went. Just stopped showin’ up for work one day. So… ya know… there was a vacancy. Lucky me! They moved the weekend guy to days, ‘n moved the night guy to weekends, and I talked my way into working the night shift at the desk. Did that for about a year, ’til the weekend guy got married ‘n moved back home to Nibelheim, so I moved up to that job, ‘n now I work the weekend shift and sub days during the week whenever the daytime concierge needs to take a day off.”

By then their food had arrived, and the redhead was only too happy to dig in to the plate of spaghetti and meatballs placed in front of him.

“Good money?” the redhead asked between bites, curious.

“Pays a hell of a lot better than hustlin’ the blackmarket down in Two ever did,” he said, and then smirked, “But, uh… just between you, me, ‘n the table I still do that sometimes as a little bit of a side gig… and since I’m technically management now, I get free room ‘n board at the hotel as part of the benefits package, so… kinda hard to complain.”

“Sounds like ya got it made.”

“Tch… says the guy workin’ for Shinra Company. How much do they pay you Turk assholes, anyway? I know their goddamn informants make bank… so the real deal’s gotta be rakin’ in the cash.”

Reno grinned. “They pay us more than enough,” he replied, “We earn it, though. I spent like a month recoverin’ from gettin’ shot in the goddamn lung not that long ago… ‘n, ya know… ya lose people sometimes, which sucks hard. Not gonna lie, it definitely has its shitty days, but… I like it.”

They continued on with their lunch, largely making small talk, catching up on news of past acquaintances, comparing notes on their experiences Plateside, and the like. It was kind of weird running into Kel after so long… and kind of awesome, too. They’d never been super closefriends… but it was certainly good to see him again, and Reno was glad to know that he was doing alright for himself. Kel and his mom had always been some of the good ones down in Two. It was nice knowing they’d gotten out.

“So what’s your mom up to now? Still at the Swan?” Reno asked. Kel shrugged.

“Nah. She worked there for awhile, but once I started makin’ decent money on my own, I helped her open her own little shop over in Sector One. Sells all the stuff she makes. You know how she always liked sewin’ ‘n knittin’ ‘n that sorta thing. Well, now she can do it whenever she wants… not just when she can afford to buy fabric ‘n shit. She was gonna move to Kalm, but uh…” Kel suddenly grinned.

“But what?” Reno prodded, eyebrows rising. Kel’s grin widened.

“But… she wanted to stay close when she found out she’s gonna be a grandma,” he replied. Reno blinked, stunned.

“You’re havin’ a kid?” he asked in disbelief.

“Heh… yep. In about four more months. Marryin’ my girl in a couple weeks, too. Doin’ the whole family man thing…”

“Uh… Congrats?” Reno replied, snickering slightly. “Gotta admit, never really pegged ya as the type.”

“Yeah, well… full disclosure, neither did I. It was kinda… ya know… an accident. But I’m lookin’ forward to it. Now, anyway. ‘Bout dropped dead from shock when I first found out.”

“Better you than me,” the redhead laughed, and Kel immediately joined in.

“Tch… the way you always used to sleep around, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t beat me to it,” he teased.

“Used to? Trust me, I still do. But I ever get someone knocked up without meanin’ to, Lira’ll fuckin’ kill me when she finds out. That’s incentive enough to be careful.”

“Yeah, she always was a little terrifyin’ when she was pissed off… and I oughta know. She was pissed off every time she saw me,” Kel sniggered, “She still workin’ the Market?”

“Yeah… I keep offerin’ to bring her topside. She won’t come. She’s happy where she is,” Reno said with a shrug. He’d never really understood why the woman wanted to stay. Even if Wall Market was exponentially better than the other sectors down there, it was still the Slums. She’d always told him that she preferred being close to the land… but it had to more than just that. In the end though, he couldn’t force her to leave. But he damn well could make sure she was taken care of, regardless. She knew that if she needed something… anything… all she had to do was give him a call.

“Ah, come on… it’s not all baddown below. Not sayin’ I wanna go back or anything, but outside of Two, it’s decent enough.”

“Yeah? That’s your opinion. There’s not enough gil on the planet to make me wanna move back. I got out… I’m stayin’ out. Only reason I even set foot down there now’s to see Lira, or if I got an assignment. Or… ya know… to visit Mom.”

“Still stoppin’ by on her birthday, huh?”

Reno shrugged. “Not like anyone else is gonna…”

“Yeah, well… when ya go this year, watch yourself. New gang’s been takin’ over territory down in Two lately. They’re musclin’ out the old gangs… hard. Gonna be the new top dogs pretty soon. You remember your old pal, Jericho, don’t ya?”

“Tch… Old pal, my ass,” the redhead snorted, “I still got the scar from when he fucked me up with that knife. Don’t tell me… that asshole’s running things with this new gang.”

“Yup,” Kel acknowledged. “And he’s just as big an asshole as ever.”

“How do you know all this if you’ve been up here the last few years?”

“I told ya. I’m still doin’ my blackmarket thing on the side. I got contacts.”

The redhead nodded in understanding. “Thanks for head’s up.” He glanced at his watch. “Ah, hell, I’m gonna have to get back to work. I gotta go corral five rookies for range practice right after lunch.”

Kel snickered. “Man, no matter how hard I try, I really can’t picture a skinny little twerp like you doin’ all that Turk shit…”

“Yeah, fuck you, too, Kel,” Reno laughed, shoveling the last few bites of his lunch into his mouth. He grabbed his wallet and tossed enough onto the table to cover both their meals. “Lunch is on me today.”

“Heh… I’ll getcha next time, then,” Kel replied. The redhead grinned and got up from the table, casting his old friend a quick wave before heading back to work.

~end chapter 68~