Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 87: Time to Dye

“Uhhh… There a reason you’re doin’ that?”

Petra inhaled slowly and methodically as she opened her eyes and unhurriedly sought out the source of the inquiry.

“My building lost power this morning,” she answered, as she, just as slowly, released the breath she’d just taken. Reno shook his head and circled around behind her briefly, before coming to a halt in front of her again.

“… ‘kay,” he snickered, “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re standin’ on your head.”

The younger Turk giggled softly as she let feet drop, slow and controlled, to the floor, and righted herself.

“When the building lost power, it reset all my clocks, so my alarm didn’t go off. I always have trouble getting up on time in the winter… I think I must have been some sort of creature that hibernated in another life…” she mused in reply, “Because my alarm didn’t go off, I woke up late… and because I woke up late, I didn’t have time for my morning yoga and meditation before I had to leave to catch the train.”

“Heh… ya know, I don’t get how you morning people can be awake enough to do shit like that so early,” he chuckled, “Me… I’m lucky to be up and dressed soon enough to be almost on time some days…”

“Well… you are a Gemini,” Petra said with a shrug.

“Actually, I’m an Aries… ‘least that’s what Lira told me when she was goin’ though her whole horoscope a day phase awhile back,” the senior Turk good-naturedly corrected her, with a soft laugh. She blinked in surprise.

“Really?” she queried, shocked, “But you’re so… quintessentially Gemini…” She paused a moment in thought. “Wait… Do I somehow have your birthday wrong? Isn’t it –”

“Reno?” Tseng’s voice broke in as the Turk lieutenant poked his head into the door of the lounge, and Petra’s question quickly died before she finished it. “Forgive me for interrupting your conversation, but I need your help with something.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” the redhead replied, before grinning at Petra. “Heh… guess we’ll have ta pick this up later.”

She smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. After all… they were on the clock, even if the day had only just barely begun. The job came first.

As Reno was leaving with Tseng, his place in the room was taken by another familiar face. Two, actually. Victor and Zephyr made their way inside, the former giving the two exiting senior Turks a friendly nod as they passed. And a few seconds later, Liam slipped in behind them, as well.

“Morning, Petra,” Zephyr greeted her.

“And what a beautiful morning it is,” Petra responded, smiling. She giggled as she added, “Even if I did end up over-sleeping today…”

Victor snickered as he helped himself to a cup of coffee.

“So… How did your assignment go yesterday?” he asked.

“Yeah! How was it, being the vice president’s primary security for the afternoon all on your own?” Zephyr chimed in, a wide grin crossing her face.

“Oh, it was fine,” Petra replied, with a faint smile. Liam snorted softly.

“Fine?” he teased, “Come on, Petra… we all know you’ve got a thing for Rufus. You’re really going to stand there and tell us that your first completely solo assignment as his bodyguard was just… fine?”

“Well it’s not as if we were out on a date,” the senior Turk returned, rolling her eyes slightly, “It was a symposium on the proliferation of mako technology in emerging markets… not dinner and a movie.” She paused for a moment, and then smiled, “But… I suppose it was a little more than just ‘fine’. The vice president is really very personable if you catch him in the right mood… and very entertaining to talk to.”

“… Uh… we are still talking about Rufus Shinra… right?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow. Petra laughed quietly.

“You know, just because you’re still slightly terrified of him, doesn’t mean everyone is,” she said, grinning as she headed for the door. “See you at the morning briefing!”

---

“So what’s so important ya gotta drag me outta the lounge before I could get to the coffee maker?” Reno joked, as he and Tseng made their way down the hallway to the latter’s office. Tseng sighed softly and ushered him inside.

“As if a last minute audit right before Christmas wasn’t enough stress, the President has found yet another opportunity to make our lives more difficult,” the Turk lieutenant replied, clearly irritated. The redhead couldn’t help but give an amused laugh. Tseng had not been enjoying said audit… and Reno had to admit, he was a little glad that he wasn’t really involved in it himself. It didn’t look like something he’d enjoy much, either.

“What now?” he asked, genuinely curious. Tseng closed the door behind them, and both men settled comfortably into their usual seats.

“In the grand scheme of things, nothing more than a last minute excursion,” he replied, “… but as you know, Iintend on traveling south tomorrow evening. I wasn’t planning on dealing with travel logistics other than my own.”

“Where’s the President off to now? Costa del Sol? ‘Cause if it’s Costa del Sol, I’ll totally fill in for ya…” he said, grinning. Tseng snorted softly in amusement.

“You’ll be filling in for me regardless, actually. Veld has ordered it,” he said with a faint smirk. Reno groaned.

“It’s notCosta del Sol, is it…?” he lamented, only half serious. His mentor chuckled.

“I’m afraid it’s rather the other extreme…” said Tseng, and Reno cringed.

“He’s not seriously goin’ up to Icicle Inn this time of year…”

“He is,” Tseng confirmed, “It seems he was invited to fire the starting pistol for this year’s Great Glacier Relay. He and Rufus are leaving first thing in the morning, and as such, will require security. I’d like you, Rude, Sykes, and Petra to go.”

“Kind of a lot of security, don’t ya think, Boss?” Reno said, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. Sure… it was the company’s two highest ranking executives, but still, four Turks seemed just a little excessive, particularly for an area that was currently regarded as low-threat. “You expectin’ trouble or somethin’?”

“Me, personally? No,” Tseng said with the hint of a laugh, “However… President Shinra has apparently been in communication with Lord Godo of Wutai of late, and it has come to his attention that the emperor and his daughter occasionally employ the use of look-alikes.”

Reno rolled his eyes. “Lemme guess… if it’s somethin’ that’s good enough for Godo, it’s good enough for him ‘n Rufus,” he deadpanned. Tseng smirked and reached into his desk drawer. He placed a small box in front of the redhead… who eyed it with trepidation.

“Uh… what the hell is this?” he asked, though he didn’t really have to ask what it was. The contents were made clear enough by the packaging. If the picture blonde chick with the voluminous golden locks hadn’t given it away at a glance, the name of a well-known hair care product brand emblazoned across the front certainly would have.

“I apologize, but I couldn’t find a shade close enough to Rufus’ in men’s…” Tseng replied, thoroughly straight-faced.

“Tch… Don’t make it worse by bein’ an asshole,” Reno deadpanned, and the senior Turk chuckled. The younger man looked up, pleadingly. “You’re not really gonna make me do this…”

“Sykes is far too… large… to pass for Rufus, even from a distance, and Rude, quite frankly, has nothing to dye. I’m afraid you’re the lucky winner.”

“They make these things called wigs, ya know… and hats,” the red head groused as he snatched up the box and started reading over the instructions on the back.

“I’m aware. And I did make that suggestion, actually. The President vetoed it. He wants authenticity.”

“This shit washes out… right?” Reno asked, still skimming the text.

“… Eventually,” Tseng answered, and the younger Turk immediately looked, up no small amount of concern in his eyes. “The woman at the pharmacy said it was semi-permanent and would fade after week or so.”

“Ugh… I gotta be Rufus’ discount-bin twin for a week?” he groaned, and he mentor laughed.

“You’ve survived far worse,” Tseng said with a slight smile. The redhead sighed and shook his head.

“Tch. Well… Guess I finally get to find out first hand whether or not blondes really do have more fun…” He glanced over at his mentor. “I s’pose ya want me to do this now…”

Tseng nodded, and then smirked, “Yes… if only because I’m rather looking forward to seeing the results,” he said, teasingly, “Besides… the box says multiple applications may be required for an even color. Best not to wait until the last minute, I think. Just in case.”

He calmly placed a second, identical box on the desktop.

“… You better’ve got me somethin’ really good for Christmas, Boss…” Reno muttered, taking both boxes and getting to his feet.

---

Tseng had been so absorbed in going through his half of the massive pile of the official expense reports Veld had handed him earlier that morning that he’d lost track of time entirely… by the time he finally did look up at the clock, expecting it to be nearly time for the morning briefing, he saw, with some concern, that said meeting had been going on for almost five minutes. Slightly annoyed, he put aside the paperwork and stood up, wondering why Veld hadn’t sent someone to retrieve him when he hadn’t shown up.

The answer to that question was readily apparent as he rounded the corner.

Most of the team seemed to be gathered, not in the conference room, but rather in the hallway in front of the men’s restroom. Curious, he made his way over, pausing behind Remy.

“What’s going on?” he asked. The senior Turk gave a hurriedly smothered shriek of surprise.

“For Leviathan’s sake, Tseng… Must you?” she sighed in exasperation, glaring at him. He smiled in apology.

“Forgive me… But what is going on? Did I miss the briefing?”

“The briefing is postponed temporarily. Veld was summoned to Heidegger’s office. At the moment, we’re trying to get Reno to come out of the bathroom… He’s locked himself inside,” she explained, frowning. Tseng blinked in confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” he queried, and Remy shook her head and gave an uncertain shrug.

“I… honestly don’t know,” she said, “He won’t come out, and the only person he would let in was Rude. That was five minutes ago, and we haven’t heard a peep since…”

Tseng’s brow furrowed as he pushed his way to the front of the little crowd, and was immediately assailed by a multitude of questions and concerns. The Turk lieutenant held up his hands, gesturing for silence from his subordinates.

“Alright… I’m sure all of you have something you could be doing right now. Everyone, back to work and let me handle… whatever it is that’s going on here. I’ll summon you for the morning briefing as soon as Veld returns,” he said. The group grudgingly began to disperse, the majority of the grumbling about it coming, he was fairly sure, from the rookies. Once the hallway had cleared out, he turned to the door and knocked sharply. “Reno?”

There was muffled talking from within, and finally, after several long seconds, the lock snapped open and the door opened a crack. Rude peered out at him, an undisguised grin on his face.

“You’re in a lot of trouble, sir…” he snickered.

“Excuse me?” Tseng responded, slightly taken aback. Rude chuckled quietly and opened the door enough to allow him entry. Tseng slipped inside, his concern for his protege growing as the younger Turk closed and relocked the door.

“I am not goin’ back out there.”

“Reno? What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked. The redhead seemed to have closed himself off in one of the stalls.

“Tch… What dya think happened? I did what you told me to ‘n dyed my fuckin’ hair…” a very put out voice replied, the note of distress unmistakable. Tseng shook his head.

“Surely you don’t look that bad as a blonde…” he said, trying the door, and finding it, too, locked.

“Blonde?” Reno shot back, in an incredulous tone, “Don’t I wish…”

With that, the door swung open and for a very long moment, all Tseng could do was stare in utter shock. The moment was broken by a loud snickering coming from behind him.

“And you shut the fuck up,” Reno added, glowering at Rude as he stepped out of the stall, arms folded over his chest. Tseng slowly circled the younger Turk, taking in his new appearance.

“… What in Leviathan’s name happened?” he asked, mystified, and the redhead – well… former redhead – deflated slightly.

“Apparently ya can’t cover up red hair with blonde dye…” he muttered, and motioned to his head, “It just does… this.”

Reno’s hair had always been of a particularly bright and vibrant shade, but now it could almost be described as… florescent. And orange. Very, very orange. Tseng eyed it in something akin to disbelief.

“It’s…” he began, only to rethink what he was going to say. Maybe it wasn’t quite as bad as it seemed. “Where’s the second box? Perhaps if we redo it…”

Reno shook his head. “Whatdya think me ‘n Rude have been doin’ in here? Practicin’ our dance moves? We already tried that…” he said, miserably, “I had him do it the second time ’cause I thought I fucked somethin’ up…”

“It just made it brighter,” Rude added.

“… Maybe once it’s dry?” Tseng hesitantly suggested. After all, his protege’s hair was still quite damp from the process of dying it. Maybe it just didn’t look quite right wet… though given the fact that it looked practically radioactive at the moment, he wasn’t holding out much hope.

Reno groaned. “I can’t let people see me like this…”

“Thought you liked being the center of attention,” Rude joked, drawing an aggravated growl from the younger Turk.

“Yeah… when it’s on my terms…” he muttered, “I look like an Ifrit forsaken traffic cone!”

A quiet laugh inadvertently escaped Tseng’s lips at the comment, which he had to feign a cough to try and cover. It didn’t work. Reno resumed glaring at him.

“I’m sorry,” the senior Turk quickly apologized, “This is my fault. I will fix it. Go back to your office while I… try and figure out just how I’m going to do that.”

“Yes, sir,” Reno replied with a resigned sigh. Out of the corner of his eye, Tseng noticed that Rude was slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket. He repressed the faint smirk that threatened to sneak its way across his face, as he realized that there was likely now photographic evidence of this little misadventure.

“Don’t even think about gettin’ that phone out… You’re banned from takin’ pictures of this,” Reno quickly snapped, apparently also noticing the subtle movement, though misinterpreting the action. Tseng opted not to correct him, given that he had more immediate things to worry about.

“Reno… calm down, and go back to your office,” Tseng ordered, “We’ll get this sorted out.”

The former redhead grumblingly complied, peering cautiously into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear, and then bolting towards the safety of his own office. Rude snorted softly in laughter.

“Don’t laugh at him. You know as well as I do that even Reno has his limits on how much humiliation he’s willing to endure,” Tseng admonished him, ” And delete that photo. That’s an order.”

“… Yes, sir,” Rude answered, withdrawing the phone and pressing a few keys. It beeped softly and he snapped it shut before returning it to his pocket. “What are you going to do about his hair?”

Tseng sighed. “I… have absolutely no idea. So I supposed I will have to defer to an expert and see if I can find a salon that can take a last minute appointment.”

Rude chuckled. “No offense, sir… but maybe you should have done that in the first place. Because he’s right. He kind of does look like an Ifrit-forsaken traffic cone…” he said, before slipping out into the hallway.

---

Reno groaned loudly as he peered at his reflection in the back of the shiny metal base of his desk lamp. He was absolutely not one of those assholes he gave a crap about how he looked… usually.

But this…

He hadn’t exactly been thrilled with the idea of dying it in the first place, but he could have put up with being a blonde for a week or two. Like he’d told Tseng, he’d be able to put that old adage to the test. Anything that might get him laid was never a bad thing… and it would eventually wash out. But high-vis safety orange was a whole other ball game, and as much as it irked him to admit it, it… made him feel incredibly self-conscious.

Which was more than a little disconcerting, given that he was seldom self-conscious about much of anything.

He sighed and put the lamp down, leaning back in his chair and pressing his fingers against his eyes, rubbing them roughly. What the hell else could possibly go wrong? First, unless Tseng was more convincing than he was, Kai wasn’t coming back. Now this?

He was glad that the holiday break was just another week away. Especially since Tseng, on Veld’s authority, had promised him that, under no circumstances, would he be dragged into attending any official company functions. He’d get to just kick back, relax, get drunk off his ass, and enjoy the party at Veld’s place. A definite step up from last year… though the bar from last year was low enough that just about anything that didn’t involve being molested in an elevator by Scarlet would have been a step up.

Reno took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then slowly released it. In the grand scheme of things, this wasn’t really that bad. Tseng was gonna fix it, and he’d be back to normal before he had to deal with a double VIP escort. Worst case, he was the butt of everyone’s jokes for awhile… which, honestly, wasn’t all that unusual to begin with.

Just as he’d decided that his unexpected hair style wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to him, however…

The door to his office was suddenly thrown opened with a loud, angry bang, and Rufus immediately stormed in, a scowl firmly in place. He opened his mouth, in what Reno was positive was going to be a lengthy rant on whatever subject it was that had pissed him off first thing in the morning, but then caught sight of the Turk, whatever he’d been about to say dying on his lips. The executive blinked, uncomprehendingly.

“What in the Nine Hells happened to you?” Rufus asked, taken aback, and in a tone that was so thoroughly devoid of its usual snobbery, that Reno almost laughed. Instead, however, he merely rolled his eyes.

“Tseng had the bright idea to turn me into your double for this trip up to the Glacier. It… kinda didn’t go as planned.”

It began as a snicker… and then turned into a surprisingly undignified snort of amusement, before finally the Shinra heir erupted into peals of laughter. Reno gave a heavy sigh and decided to just let him get it over with. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the older boy, and waited for it subside.

“You… You look like one of the safety markers in the Sector 6 construction zone!” the vice president managed to gasp out.

“You done yet, sir?” the former redhead muttered, feeling his cheeks flush with an uncomfortable heat.

“No, I’m most certainly not,” Rufus replied, though the initial hilarity seemed to have passed, “This almost makes the prospect of freezing my backside off for an hour while Father blathers on and fires a pistol into the air worth the inconvenience of missing the Kalm Festival.”

Well… that explained why the brat had burst into his office looking like he was ready to smote the next person who looked at him funny. Rufus had never missed the winter festival in Kalm in all of the years Reno had been a Turk, and according to Tseng, the only one he’d missed prior to that had been the year he was too sick to go. He wasn’t surprised that the vice president was pissed about having his annual trip preempted by a cross-country chocobo-drawn sled race.

“There a reason you decided to grace me with your oh-so-pleasant presence today, sir?” Reno asked, rolling his eyes a second time. Rufus smirked.

“Hmph… Well, I had come down to complain bitterly about our trip north this weekend. Tseng wasn’t in his office, so I opted for a suitable stand-in… though this was admittedly not quite the sort of stand-in I was thinking of,” he said, momentarily mimicking Reno’s earlier expression, “I cannot believe Father seriously thinks I suddenly require a body double. Or that Tseng thinks it should be you. You look nothing like me,” He snorted softly, and added, “Particularly now…”

“We could always dye yours to match, sir…” Reno replied, dryly.

“I think not,” Rufus deadpanned. He then sighed. “Get up, you cretin. I’m not about to be seen in public with you looking like that. I’ll call my personal hairdresser and tell him it’s an emergency. If Gerard can’t fix it… I’m not sure anyone can.”

“Tch… Of course you got a personal hairdresser on standby. Always knew hair that perfect couldn’t be natural…” Reno teasingly shot back, getting to his feet.

“One more crack like that, and I’ll tell him to simply shave you…” Rufus returned. The Turk held up his hands in surrender. He doubted the executive was serious about that threat, but far be it from him to look a gift horse in the mouth.

---

Tseng sighed heavily, and hung up the phone. Apparently, Christmas was something of a busy season for Midgar’s salons. Everything was booked solid. The best he’d been able to do was a standby appointment next Tuesday, which was hardly a guarantee. By now, he was desperate… so he turned to the only person he knew who might have a suggestion for getting out of the mess he’d gotten himself into. He quickly scrolled through his contact list and pressed the dial button.

“Tseng? Is something wrong?” a concerned voice answered a moment later.

“No… No, nothing is wrong, Esme,” he hurriedly replied. He couldn’t blame the woman for being a bit worried about receiving a phone call from her husband’s second in command in the middle of the work day. After all, if anything did ever happen to Veld on the job, that’s precisely the call she’d get. “Well… nothing major. I’m sorry to bother you over something as trivial as this, but… I’m not sure where else to turn. It’s a bit outside my skill set.”

“Oh? What is it?” she asked, plainly curious.

“You… wouldn’t happen to know a salon that can correct a… frankly, terrible dye job, would you? One that actually has an appointment available before the holidays? The best I could do was a position on the wait list for next week, and… I think Reno may rightfully murder me if I can’t come up with something better than that.”

Esme laughed softly. “I should probably know better than to ask… but what did you do to him?”

Tseng cringed slightly before he answered. “I… temporarily forgot my early art lessons on the results of mixing primary colors, and rather naively suggested dying his hair blonde for an upcoming assignment. It turned out about as well as you might imagine.”

“Oh, dear…” Esme replied, and the Wutaiian Turk plainly heard the amusement in her voice, “The poor thing… Well, I’m sorry, but I really don’t know of anything off the top of my head. The holiday season tends to be rather busy for everything local. All the parties and family get togethers everyone’s wanting to look their best for…”

The Turk lieutenant had to physically repress a groan of dismay.

“… Any ideas on a home remedy for the results of utter stupidity?” he cautiously queried.

“Hmm… well, it would depend on what you used. If it was a temporary color, you might be able to at least lighten it up a bit with repeated washes and an excessive amount of scrubbing… though I don’t envy poor Reno’s scalp. Just how bad is it?” she asked, “You could try dying it back to its original color, if it’s not too far gone…”

“It’s… orange,” Tseng said, “I’m not sure I can even begin to accurately describe how orange without comparing him to traffic safety equipment. Which both Reno and at least one of my other Turks has already done…”

Veld’s wife chuckled softly. “Well, to be honest, it sort of sounds like you can’t make it any worse than it already is. So… there’s that,” she offered. “Why don’t you and Reno come over for dinner tonight… and we’ll see what we can do.”

“Thank you, Esme… I would immensely appreciate any help you can give me on this,” Tseng breathed in a somewhat relieved sigh. Esme laughed softly.

“You can thank me by picking out a nice bottle of wine to go with dinner. We’re having steak with mushroom sauce.”

The Wutaiian Turk smiled slightly. “It would be my pleasure,” he responded. He ended the call and got up from his desk, making the short trip down the hall to his protege’s office. After all, there was no sense in waiting to tell him the good news… that he would only have to survive the remainder of the workday with his new hair style. His knock, however, received no answer.

He was more than a little surprised, given how quickly the younger Turk had bolted into hiding a little while ago. Somewhat hesitantly, he let himself in, uninvited, only to find the space unoccupied.

“He left with the vice president about ten minutes ago, sir,” a voice behind him piped up, and Tseng turned to unexpectedly find Petra strolling towards him, “I saw them getting into the elevator. What… happened to Reno’s hair?”

Tseng sighed. “A rather severe miscalculation on my part, I’m afraid,” he said, “Do you happen to know where they went?”

“No, sir,” she said, shaking her head, “But they did seem to be in a bit of a hurry… Rufus was talking to someone on his phone, and saying something about not caring that it was last minute.”

“I see,” the Turk lieutenant replied, frowning, before giving her a nod, “Thank you, Petra.”

She smiled and continued on her way, and Tseng was left wondering what sort of situation could have come up so suddenly – and so close to Rufus leaving town for the weekend – that the vice president felt the need to simply commandeer the nearest Turk and leave the building without so much as informing anyone else.

---

Reno groaned softly as the presidential limo carried them deep into the heart of the Sector 4 business district. There were so many people around. Even with the cold, snowy weather, there had to be hundreds of people making their way from store to store, and he was quietly grateful for the luxury car’s heavily tinted windows.

His fellow passenger snickered unabashedly at him from the seat opposite the Turk as he calmly sipped a glass of chardonnay from the limo’s mini bar.

“Are you seriously just gonna laugh at me the whole way there?” Reno finally asked.

“Yes,” Rufus stated, smirking, “I am.” He polished off his drink and sat up slightly in his seat, “How in Ramuh’s name are you so thoroughly effective at your job and yet still such an unmitigated idiot in virtually every other respect?”

“It’s a gift,” the not-so-redhead retorted… though he couldn’t help but snigger softly himself at the pseudo-insult. “But in my defense, this wasn’t my fault. It was all Tseng’s idea. How was I s’posed to know it’d turn orange?”

“To be honest, I’m a more than a little surprised at Tseng’s lack of forethought on this one, as well…” Rufus chuckled, “But at least I got a good laugh out of it.”

“So… you really think this Gerard guy’s gonna be able to do somethin’ about it?” Reno queried, still not entirely convinced.

“I really have no idea,” the Shinra heir nonchalantly replied, “But he is, unarguably, the absolute best in the city, and quite possibly on the entire continent. As I said before we left, if he can’t fix it, I very seriously doubt there’s anyone who can.”

“What your deal today, anyway?” the Turk asked, suspiciously. Rufus cocked an eyebrow as he poured himself another glass of wine.

“Meaning?” he asked.

“Meanin’ you looked ready to strangle someone when you busted into my office… Now you’re in maybe the best mood I’ve ever seen ya…” Reno clarified. Rufus snorted loudly in contempt, and took a drink.

“For one… I was desperate to get out of the building for awhile. Father will not stop talking about that accursed race he’s to start off this weekend. You’d think he was participating, not just pulling the trigger on the starting pistol. He’s practically gleeful. It’s utterly nauseating,” he said, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect, “This has provided a suitable excuse for my escape, however brief it may be. For another… it’s the holidays and I’m feeling especially magnanimous lately.”

“Heh… fair enough, I guess,” the Turk replied.

“You may return the favor by seeing to it that I don’t freeze to death this weekend. As much as I would typically enjoy a trip north… this is not the time of year I would have chosen. I learned my lesson on that quite some time ago.” He swirled the wine in his glass before quickly tossing it back. “It’s bad enough I’m missing the winter festival for this stupid little foray into the cold. I don’t wish to be stuck outside listening to one of Father’s endlessly droning speeches for half the day.”

“Gettin’ a little old for festivals aren’t ya, sir?” the redhead pointed out, and Rufus immediately glowered at him.

“Not that it’s any of your business… but I have attended that festival nearly every year since before I could walk. I don’t intend to cease a tradition I enjoy simply because someone might think I’ve outgrown it.”

Reno blinked… and instantly understood. Rufus went to that festival for the same reason he bought an obscure little restaurant almost no one went to. It was something he associated with his mother. Reno was beginning to realized that that was just how Rufus chose to hold onto those memories. Instead of heirlooms, he had real estate. Instead of photos, he kept traditions.

He faked a grin and shrugged.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m one to talk. I go to the Gold Saucer literally every chance I get.”

Rufus snorted again. “Oh yes… and you’re an absolute bastion of maturity,” he snarked… though he seemed relieved that Reno was willing to drop the subject. The limo finally pulled into a small parking lot and circled around to the back entrance of a huge glass-walled building on the corner.

Reno pulled the hood of his thick winter coat up over his head, hiding his neon orange locks as much as he could and followed the vice president inside.

~end chapter 87~