Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 95: A Walk

“I’m going for a walk.”

The sudden announcement, which had broken a rather lengthy silence, caused Reno to open his eyes and sit up slightly from his reclined position. He turned towards the vice president, raising an eyebrow.

“A walk, sir?” he queried. Not that there weren’t plenty of places on the huge airship one could take a little stroll… but for the last half hour, Rufus had been seemingly content reading a book while he and Petra traded off guard duty. The Shinra heir rolled his eyes.

“Yes, a walk. It’s what one does instead of lazing about doing nothing. Something I’m sure you’re entirely unacquainted with.”

Reno snorted softly and sat up. “Yeah… I’m passingly familiar with the concept,” he snarked, “Fine… ya wanna go for a walk, we’ll go for a walk.”

“Hmph… I certainly hadn’t planned on taking you. If I’m forced to be ‘guarded’ even on board a Shinra military aircraft, I’d prefer the option that doesn’t drive me mad with their mere presence,” Rufus stated, and then turned to the other Turk. “Come, Petra.”

“Tch… whatever…” the redhead replied with a dismissive wave. “Just don’t let him fall into the engines, or anything, ‘kay Petra?”

“Yes, sir,” Petra responded with an amused smile. She turned and followed Rufus out of the cabin, leaving the senior Turk on his own. Reno settled back into his former position, staring upwards at the ceiling and sighed almost inaudibly.

He really was being replaced, he mused. Which… okay, maybe he was taking it a little too personally, but for fuck’s sake… He’d taken a bullet for the son of a bitch. Wasn’t that worth at least a little gratitude?

Reno shook his head. Realistically, he’d only been doing his job and Rufus didn’t owe him anything. Still, though… he couldn’t help but feel just a bit slighted by the brat’s blatant shift in favoritism recently. Hadn’t he earned just a little more respect than the average Turk by now? Or, you know… even just not being so casually brushed aside in favor of the newer model?

In the years they’d known one another, nothing Rufus had ever done – not even when he was at his worst and most assholish at the beginning of their acquaintanceship – had ever sincerely hurt the redhead’s feelings. Not the name calling. Not the stuck up classism. Not even the snide and often disrespectful attitude that was so frequently on display.

But somehow, being gradually discarded hit much harder. He still couldn’t even quite put his finger on why it bothered him so much. He just knew that it did. And he also knew that there was jack shit he could do about it. If Rufus had a new favorite, then… he had a new favorite. Simple as that. It’s not like they were ever, by any stretch of the imagination, friends.

Though… he had to admit that, at some point, he’d sort of begun to hope they might be. Maybe not on the same level as Rufus’ fondness for Tseng, but still…

As it turned out, Reno was just another employee, as far as the vice president was concerned. One he trusted more than most others, but that was the extent of it.

The redhead sighed again and sat up, turning his gaze out one of the small windows along one side of the room. What the hell was he bitching about anyway? Rufus was a giant pain in the ass at the best of times, and if he wanted someone else watching his back, so much the better. The redhead had bigger things to worry about, anyway… like learning all the shit he needed to know to be a good Second for Tseng. He didn’t need to be getting his panties in a twist over the spoiled little Shinra shit kicking him to the metaphorical curb. He’d probably be better off, anyway, in the long run. Right?

---

Rufus breathed a contented sigh as he and Petra made their way downwards, into the bowels of the airship. Machinery had long intrigued him. As a child, he’d adored the intricate models his father commissioned from the fabrication department of various prototypes… particularly the scale model of the Junon military base and its cannon, as well as the one of the airship they were currently traveling on. The fact that his father had gifted the latter to Lord Godo last summer still irked him to no end.

He’d even once toyed with the thought of studying such things far more in depth when he was older, but his father had quickly quashed that dream, insisting that his studies focus on the skills he’d need to know in order to successfully take over the family business. After all… he could pay people to invent and repair and build things for him. Why should he learn to do it himself? Still… the interest had never completely left him, and when he had the opportunity to see something as impressive as the inner workings of one of Shinra’s airships up close, he took it.

Ironically, though, the mako reactors that had put Shinra Company on the map in the first place held little interest for him… probably due to their distinct lack of moving parts. Oh, sure… there was a great deal of automation built into the more modern incarnations, but he really didn’t care to inspect automatic duct cleaners and the like. Though he had to admit, the reactor cores were somewhat intriguing.

That aside, though, he much preferred the flashier technology, and the Highwind, with it’s massive engines and turbines and steering setups was far more entertaining to look at.

As Rufus descended a metal staircase, the sound of quiet laughter from just over his shoulder interrupted his musings. He paused at the bottom, waiting for his security escort to join him.

“Something you find amusing?” he inquired.

“No, sir. Not really,” Petra replied, shaking her head. “I just noticed how happy you looked just now.”

Rufus snorted a dismissive laugh. “I’m quite fond of our airships,” he said, glancing around at the corridor they now found themselves in. The scent of oil was strong down here, and the sounds of the engines running at full speed might have been deafening had they not been muted by a heavy metal bulkhead a short distance from where they stood.

“I can see that, sir,” Petra said, smiling slightly. She looked up at the sign above the mechanical door that read “Main Engine” as Rufus made his way over to the mechanism that opened it. He turned the handle, and it slide back slightly and upwards. The sudden cacophony of pistons and turbines and metal on metal was slightly overwhelming, even though he’d been expecting it.

The crew down here was sparse. The ship largely ran itself, after all, and human personnel were really only needed to perform routine maintenance and… well… steer the damned thing. The pair made their way deeper, pausing now and then to watch some process or other before resuming their stroll. Conversation was made difficult by the noise in some areas, but Rufus found he didn’t really mind having to almost shout to answer a question or two from his escort when she asked. For quite some time, he simply wandered the lower decks at random, not really paying much attention to where he were going, but rather letting whatever caught his eye lead him to his next destination. Though he’d toured the airship briefly once before, he hadn’t had time or opportunity to see it all.

Eventually, though, he found himself in a room that sent a chill down his spine… and at first he didn’t know why. It took him several seconds to realize that he’d been there before.

Rufus swallowed the unexpected lump that had formed in his throat as his gaze unintentionally locked onto one very specific spot. Just an unassuming bit of the deck. Shiny silver metal, that gleamed far too cleanly for the machinery-filled space. He inhaled sharply, and turned away, before making a hasty retreat into the nearby corridor.

“Sir?” Petra’s voice gently prodded as she quickly joined him, and Rufus found that he couldn’t answer her. Even so, he saw the recognition in her eyes a moment later. “Is… that where you were attacked?” she asked.

“Yes,” he finally managed to reply, in a short, clipped tone.

Attacked. Yes, you could call it an attack… though it would have been far more accurate to term it an unforgivable moment of abject stupidity on his part. That… woman… had given him every opportunity to leave, and he’d stood there like an utter imbecile, questioning her, as if he were somehow immune to the gun she’d had pointed at him. It was that same arrogant stupidity that had nearly cost him one of his most valuable guardians.

Even now, he could still picture the blood. There had been so much blood.

It was the last place he’d expected to find himself… though he supposed he shouldn’t have been so surprised, given the way he’d been wandering aimlessly through the lower decks of the airship. After all, though the Highwind was truly quite massive for an airborne vessel, there were only so many places you could end up while on board.

He had been completely useless that day, and it went so far beyond merely failing to prevent the theft of one of Shinra Company’s most technologically advanced vehicles. He was under no illusion that he could have stopped the Zenshou on his own, of course, even if he’d tried. But he hadn’t even tried. Had Reno not been there, in all likelihood, he’d be dead and the Highwind would be in the hands of blackmarket thieves.

But that wasn’t what truly bothered him about the incident. What truly bothered him was how, after the danger had passed and the woman was on the ground unconscious, he’d simply frozen. A man lay before him, visibly dying after saving his life… and for what had felt like an eternity, Rufus had just stood there, dumbfounded, and… watched. The lack of immediate response was somewhat sickening to him. Rufus always striven to put forth an aura of unflappability. Nothing affected him. And though he, personally, knew that to be largely a false image… a narrative carefully crafted for the public… he’d believed himself far more grounded than that. Even after he’d finally somewhat come to his senses and screamed for Tseng’s help, he’d been lost, uncertain of what to do, and thus incapable of doing anything until specifically given instructions.

It was a disgusting display of weakness.

Even after the immediate emergency had been dealt with, he hadn’t been able to shake that thought until well after they’d returned home to Midgar. And it had left him with an unfamiliar feeling of inadequacy. The Slum Rat, for all his shortcomings, didn’t seem to fear anything – what other explanation was there for willingly throwing oneself in front of a bullet meant for someone else? – but Rufus did. He feared death. He feared pain. He feared loss.

In that moment, he’d felt like a coward, and moreover, there was no one he could confess it to, who might assuage him. Going to Tseng had been… out of the question. Rufus had seen the constant worry in his friend’s eyes in those early days of the Slum Rat’s recovery, even when he tried to hide it from him, and for all his usual selfishness, Rufus hadn’t been able to bring himself to impose upon him. Not when his beloved protege’s survival was still in question. Not even later, when his survival was all but guaranteed, even if the recovery would be a long one.

It was, though initially very much on a subconscious level, one of the reasons he’d determined that additional candidates for his… ‘inner circle’… were needed. He required someone… anyone… who could take some of the burden of risk off of Reno. Not so much for the redhead’s sake, but for Tseng’s. He knew what the obnoxious little idiot meant to him. They were Turks, and the risk inherent in their jobs could never truly be nil, but some of the unnecessary risk could at least be alleviated simply by not exposing the Slum Rat to it so frequently.

Petra had seemed ideal. In the first place, Rufus found her presence agreeable, rather than merely tolerable. In the second, she was experienced enough to be effective at the task assigned, but still new enough to the team that the bond between her and Tseng didn’t run nearly as deep as the one between mentor and protege. Were she forced to sacrifice herself for him… well… Tseng certainly wouldn’t be dismissive of the fact, but it wouldn’t be the same as losing the redhead.

Or at least that was how he’d felt prior to Chirstmas.

Arms wrapped gently around him, pulling him into a warm embrace, and Rufus was suddenly snapped from his reverie. It took him a moment to realize that he’d long since gone silent, and had been staring contemplatively at the door to the room they’d just exited.

Normally, Rufus detested physical displays of affection. The only person he ever allowed such a break in decorum from was Tseng… and such occurrences were fairly few and far between, as the Turk lieutenant, himself, was not particularly predisposed to such maudlin acts.

In this instance, however… he was only too eager to accept.

---

They hadn’t been difficult to find. At all. In fact, when he and Veld had found them, they’d been gathered around a table, laughing and drinking. A couple of them were even sitting on the very bench they’d stolen from the train station. Somehow, Tseng wasn’t at all surprised by just how young they were. One of them looked like he was maybe fifteen. At a stretch. The other three couldn’t possibly have been any older than Liam.

Four, out of the five they had on camera trashing the the station, in one fell swoop. It wasn’t too bad for an afternoon’s work. One of the vandals hadn’t been present when he and Veld had broken down the door, but Tseng was fairly confident that one of the others would give up his identity and location with minimal interrogation. They weren’t “professionals,” by any stretch of the imagination. They weren’t even in one of the sector’s gangs, in so far as he and Veld had been able to determine. The were just a bunch of idiot teenagers with nothing better to do than cause trouble. Much as he disliked the term, they were pretty much the textbook definition of slum rats… young, uneducated, unmotivated, and unwieldy, and thus destined to cause problems for everyone else who crossed their paths.

“What do you think?” Veld asked, after they’d handed the last of their detainees off to security at the station for transport to one of the city police stations, topside. “Call it a day, or take one last look around the neighborhood and see if we can’t track down the other one?”

“I’ll leave that decision up to you, sir. Though I would point out that it’s past lunchtime,” Tseng responded.

Veld chuckled and guided the younger Turk away from the departures platform. “You’re getting to be as bad as your protege, Tseng…”

Tseng shook his head. “I hardly think wanting to eat at my usual meal time classifies me as such,” he jokingly replied, with a slight roll of his eyes. His mentor laughed.

“I’ll tell you what. We’ll look for another hour or so, and if we still come up empty-handed, I’ll treat you to dinner to make up for so cruelly starving you at lunchtime.”

“With an offer like that, you’re fortunate that I haven’t truly begun to take after Reno, sir… Treating him to a meal costs a small fortune,” the Wutaiian Turk joked, “I’m still extraordinarily grateful for the stipend I received while acting as his legal guardian. I may have had to move back in with you without it…”

“You’re certainly in a good mood today,” Veld chuckled as he led his protege back out onto the streets of Sector 4. He flashed him a somewhat mischievous grin, “Pleasant weekend?”

“Speaking of others taking on my protege’s traits…” Tseng snorted faintly. After his visit to Sector 5, he’d spend his last little bit of holiday time off in Junon… and though the Turk leader knew nothing of his meeting with Aerith, he was very much aware of his trip out of town afterward. Veld smiled.

“Does he still tease you about that? I would have thought he’d have gotten bored of it by now…”

“Hmph… only every chance he gets,” the younger Turk grumbled, “What is so very entertaining about the fact that I have a romantic partner, anyway?”

Veld laughed softly and placed an arm around his protege’s shoulders. “Well, you do have to admit… You don’t really seem the type.” He smirked slightly, and in a teasing tone added, “Besides… children tend to have one of two reactions when they discover that their parents have sex. They’re either thoroughly disgusted and borderline traumatized for life… or they’re fascinated by the idea that their parents are only human.”

Tseng sighed in resignation and gave a small laugh. “There are times I wish Reno were of the former variety…”

---

Reno cracked his neck and leaned back against one of the decorative columns that flanked the doorway leading to the formal dining room of the imperial palace. The last time he’d been in that room had been last summer… though as a dinner guest, not solely as security. It was kind of too bad the evening had been spoiled by the unexpected appearance of his mentor’s ex-family… He didn’t even remember what they’d served him at this point. But the spread they’d laid out for Rufus today was pretty fucking impressive.

Wutaiian cuisine wasn’t really his favorite style of food, in general… but he had to admit, some of it was amazing. And while he was pretty sure he was never going to develop the same affinity for raw seafood everyone living in the island nation seemed to share, he was definitely on board with the various noodle and rice and grilled meat dishes.

“Rufus… doesn’t look too happy,” Petra commented in a quiet voice, from her position near the opposite column. Reno snorted softly.

“Yeah, well… I’m pretty sure that if it didn’t run the risk of startin’ another war, he’s be tellin’ Godo exactly where he can shove this whole arranged marriage idea…” the redhead snickered, “I’ve always kinda got the impression that the VP ain’t exactly the marryin’ type to begin with.”

Petra frowned thoughtfully.

“You don’t think Rufus wants to get married at all?” she queried. Reno shrugged.

“Eh… he’s never really said one way or the other. Just a feelin’ I get. ‘Course that might be ’cause his dad keeps tryin’ to micromanage his love life. I’d be pretty put off the idea, too, if I had someone constantly tellin’ me I oughta get hitched ‘n have her pop out a kid ASAP.”

The younger Turk giggled.

“Aren’t you the one who always says you’re only interested in women for the sex anyway?” she teased. The redhead grinned widely.

“Hey, just ’cause I happen to think gettin’ married is kinda pointless doesn’t mean I don’t get that it’s a big deal to other people,” he chuckled, “Definitely not for me… but who am I to tell anyone else it’s dumb? Even if it is…”

Petra eyed him and rested her hands on her hips.

“Oh, come on, Reno… Do you really mean that?” she asked, a skeptical note to her voice.

“I just don’t get the appeal,” he replied, simply. “I mean… if ya wanna be with someone, what difference does havin’ some big ceremony really make? You’re gonna be with ’em either way, if they’re that important to ya. All gettin’ married does is fuck you over if things don’t work out.”

“So you’ve never met anyone you could see spending the rest of your life with?” she asked.

“Nope,” Reno answered, dismissively, and then grinned. “… ‘Sides, it’s not like I’m much of a catch, to begin with. I mean… aside from the fact that I got a pretty good chance of bein’ shot on any given day at work, I’m kind of a manwhore, and not exactly shy about it. Plus, I’d probably have ta give up bein’ a manwhore or she’d just be pissed at me all the time. And frankly, I don’t particularly want to give it up, so…”

Petra sighed in defeat and shook her head.

“Well… to each their own, I suppose.” She glanced back towards where Rufus was seated at the far end of the table, and Reno’s gaze followed. The woman Godo had introduced him to was sitting almost motionless and silent for the most part, only occasionally taking a bite or two of her food, while the Wutaiian leader commandeered most of the conversation. She didn’t look too enthusiastic about this idea, either, and the redhead vaguely wondered just how she was related to Lord Godo. As far as he knew, the guy only had the one daughter, and she was like… ten. Twelve, max. This girl looked closer to twenty.

She wasn’t what anyone would call “classically beautiful”… but she was pretty enough. Definitely didn’t seem real into the Brat, though. In fact, the more he looked, the more Reno was pretty sure she’d have rather been just about anywhere else right now.

“So what about you?” he asked, turning the majority of his attention back on the outer room. He wasn’t getting paid to watch the shipwreck go down, after all. He was here to make sure no one interrupted the disaster.

“Me?” Petra asked, in a slightly surprised tone.

“Yeah… You plannin’ on findin’ a husband one of these days?”

“O-oh… I, um… Maybe?” she stammered, blushing slightly. “I mean… I’m not really looking… but if the right person ever came along, who knows?” She cocked her head to one side for a moment, in thought. “It must be hard for a Turk to find someone like that, though. Like you said… getting romantically involved with people like us is a risk.”

Reno shrugged. He tended to agree. Women – for that matter, men, too, he assumed – who were willing to live with the thought that their partner might not come home any time they left for work had to be few and far between. Hell… even Remy had said she wasn’t willing to fall in love with one of their own, for that very reason.

Of course, then you had Turks like Veld and Tseng and Kai… all of whom were no strangers to long term relationships… so there maybe there was someone out there for just about everyone. He was pretty okay with never finding that person himself, though. He didn’t really think he was missing out on all that much, truth be told. Relationships were work… and his actual work was hard enough sometimes.

He didn’t have long to dwell on the thought, however, as Rufus and his… date?… were getting up from the table and making their way towards the pair of Turks. Neither one of them looked overly enthused at continuing to be in one another’s company, however.

“… We’re going for stroll around the imperial gardens,” Rufus ground out, snapping his fingers at his escorts in lieu of actually ordering them to follow.

Reno smirked slightly as he obediently fell into step behind the V.P. Yeah… the Brat really wasn’tenjoying this.

---

Another hour of searching, and still Tseng hadn’t found hide nor hair of their last remaining vandal. So far as he was aware, neither had Veld. They’d split up in an effort to cover more ground about twenty minutes ago, when it had become clear that the search wasn’t going well. The Wutaiian Turk sighed and began making his way back towards the train station.

He pulled his PHS from his jacket’s inner breast pocket as he walked, and pressed the contact for his mentor. Veld answered after a couple of rings.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Nothing, sir…” Tseng replied, “Assuming he’s even still in the sector, I don’t think we’re going to find him today. I’d venture a guess that word of our presence and purpose has gotten around at this point. I’ve noticed that the locals have begun to give me some rather suspicious looks over the last half hour or so.”

“Agreed. I’ve been getting some less than friendly stares myself,” Veld noted, “I suppose we’ll just have to be content with the four we did capture, for now. Meet me back at the station. We’ll head back up, get some food, and see what our guests have to say about their friend. If we can get him a name, Rude will have far better luck than us tracking him down.”

“Yes, sir. I’m on my way now.”

Sector 4 was still in the process of recovering from last year’s flooding… a fact that became more apparent the farther you traveled from the station, and thus, the central pillar. The Turks hadn’t had much cause to spend time in the outer parts of the sector of late, but from what Tseng had heard from a few people he knew in the Urban Development Department, rebuilding was slow going. So many homes had been damaged or just outright washed away when the locks on the drainage channels topside had failed. The outer rim of the sector was still largely in ruins on account, and the inner sections away from the pillar seemed to be in a state of perpetual construction.

None of it being done by Shinra, Tseng wryly noted. The people of the Slums had been largely left to fend for themselves once the company had secured and repaired the city’s primary infrastructure. It didn’t really shock him that people were less than thrilled to see Shinra employees down here. With the exception of Wall Market, the Slums were badly neglected. He hadn’t been particularly surprised to learn that the train station had been vandalized, either, as far as that went.

In his opinion, letting the Slums get as bad as they were now had been a mistake. Letting them continue to fester was an even bigger one, but the Board didn’t seem to be in any rush to remedy the situation. The Transportation and Urban Development Departments aside, most of the Company preferred to simply ignore the issue. Tseng had a feeling that, eventually, as Reno would say, it was going to come back to bite them in the ass.

As he neared the station, Tseng became aware of some sort of commotion up ahead. A number of raised voices reached his ears, and finally he spotted a small figure darting into an alleyway just down the street. A much more familiar figure was close on his heels.

“Sir!” Tseng called out to his mentor, but Veld was focused on his target. The Turk leader pursued the teenager into the alley, and Tseng hurried to follow in kind. Veld hadn’t been in the field on a regular basis for awhile, it was true, but for Leviathan’s sake… he knew better than to blindly run into an unsecured, and potentially boxed-in, location like that! What was he thinking?

As he himself stepped into the alley, a vague feeling of dread came over him. At first, he didn’t even know why. By the time he realized that it was sheer training and instinct warning him of impending danger, it was already too late.

Time seemed to slow down. He saw the boy, first. And then he saw the girl, waving her friend forward, urging him to run for the safety of a door she was holding open. And finally, he saw the gun. The Turk lieutenant was already drawing his own weapon as the young man began to turn back, finger tensed on the trigger. He took aim just a split second after Veld’s target fired.

Tseng’s shot hit home, and the teenager crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The girl screamed, and fled into the building, the heavy metal door slamming loudly behind her.

And Veld dropped to his knees.

~end chapter 95~