In From the Freezing Rain
The temperature had been steadily dropping for hours and the slight drizzle he’d set out in had become a downpour. As he walked along the deserted road, the droplets of water turned to ice, stinging his face and gathering in his hair. Reno wrapped his arms around himself, teeth chattering, eyes searching the dark for anything that might offer him refuge from the cold. His clothes were soaked through, and were no longer any barrier against the icy wind that howled in the trees.
“I should have just stayed with the fucking car,” he muttered miserably. Apparently he hadn’t been as close to Nibelheim as he’d thought he was. All he’d been sent to do was retrieve a few files and records from the basement of the Shin-Ra mansion… Now he was alone out here, car stuck in a ditch alongside the road, and all because of some stupid animal. “I should have run over the damn thing, that’s what I should have done…”
But instead, he was out in the middle of nowhere, soaking wet and freezing. He’d anticipated the cold weather, especially so close to the onset of winter, but he hadn’t expected the temperature to drop so rapidly after the sun had set. Nor was he prepared for the rain. His hair was plastered against his face and neck serving only to make him that much more uncomfortable. His fingers ached from the cold, and he could literally feel the heat being leeched from his body by his sodden clothes. He felt as though he’d been walking half the day, though it was more like an hour. The brisk pace he’d started out at had dwindled to a slow, tedious tread.
And then in the distance, somewhere amongst the trees, a soft glow caught his eye. He hoped that whatever was giving off that light would afford him some kind of shelter. Reno made his way to its source as fast as his shivering and fatigued body would allow, and soon he could see the dark silhouette of a small cabin, its windows illuminated by what, with any luck, was a warm fire. He staggered up the rickety steps of the porch to the door and knocked, sliding to his knees a moment later and leaning against the wall for support, his strength sapped by the cold.
———-
Tifa Lockheart sat contentedly before the fire, safe from the rain and the cold. She’d just narrowly avoided getting caught in the downpour, glad she had remembered the existance of her current shelter. She could easily wait out the storm and make her way to Nibelheim in better weather. It was just going to be a short visit anyway. Just long enough to put some old memories to rest. With Sephiroth permanently out of the picture, perhaps those shadows would no longer haunt her dreams at night.
A soft knock at the door pulled her gaze away from the flames, as she wondered who in their right mind would be all the way out here on a night like this. She half-thought it was only her imagination, or perhaps the ice droplets against the side of the cabin that had caught her attention, but she decided to check, just to be sure.
The hinges creaked in protest as she eased the door open. Shuddering as a cold wind chilled her, she looked down, discovering her shivering visitor, crumpled on the porch and soaked, the shock of red hair unmistakeable. It was Reno. The man who had destroyed the Sector 7 slums… who had killed any number of her friends… who had nearly killed her, as well… And now, here he was, miserable and half-frozen, with nowhere else to go and no one but her to take him in. Her eyes narrowed and revenge urged her to slam the door in his face and let hypothermia claim him. But just as the thought occured to her, Reno looked up at her, rivlets of icy water running down his face, his aquamarine eyes recognizing her and silently pleading with her not to hold the past against him now… and she just couldn’t bring herself to turn him away.
Tifa hauled him to his feet by the collar of his jacket, bringing him inside and settling him in front of the fire. His entire body shook from the cold as she peeled the saturated jacket off.
“You’re soaked,” she said blandly, stating the obvious for lack of any other ideas for conversation. Her hands brushed over his arms as she pulled his shirt off. His skin was like ice, and she knew the wet clothes he wore were only making things worse. She sighed and finished stripping away the heat-stealing garments, divesting him of all he wore before wrapping him in the blanket she’d brought with her on her trip. And the whole time, he was silent. No smartassed comments, no protests of modesty, nor did he make any move to aid her with the task. Thin, almost delicate fingers clutched the blanket tightly, holding it as though he feared she might suddenly come to her senses and snatch it back.
Reno couldn’t remember ever having been so cold in his life. Even the dry, warm blanket didn’t still his shaking body as he murmured a soft thank you to Tifa, and with some effort, he inched closer to the fire. The heat of the flames helped a little, calming the shivering. He let his heavy eyelids close, sinking into a blissful sleep where he could no longer feel the cold, darkness consuming him in a dreamless void.
Tifa watched as Reno curled up in front of the fire, obviously too drained to do anything else. He looked so fragile and helpless in this state, and Tifa couldn’t seem to find it in herself to hate him right now, even though the memories of those who died in Sector 7 screamed at her that she should. She shook her head and tucked the blanket around him more snuggly.
The room was quiet, save for the gentle crackling of the fire in the hearth, and the freezing rain tapping in a melancholy rhythm on the roof of the cabin. Now and then, a gust of wind interupted with a mournful howl. Tifa sat cross-legged at Reno’s back. He was curled on his side, face turned toward the flames, head cushioned on one arm as he slept. His breathing was soft and even, almost hypnotic, and the only movement he now made was the steady rise and fall of his chest as he drew each breath. Tifa cautiously reached out a hand to touch his slowly-drying hair, smoothing it in a gentle carress. She let her fingers drift to his cheek, feeling the warmth that was gradually returning to his skin, and tracing the scar that ran across the otherwise flawless surface, wondering briefly how he’d aquired those marks. She watched him sleep only a moment longer before stretching out alongside him and drifting off herself.
———-
Tifa awoke to find herself pressed flush against Reno’s back, her arms wrapped around his slender body, seperated from his bare skin only by the blanket. The fire had died down to nothing but a few glowing embers, but the little cabin was still warm with the heat it had generated. The morning sun shone brightly through the windows as she stood and gathered what little she’d brought with her, intent on leaving before Reno awoke. She told herself she was leaving because he was still her enemy… still a threat. Really though, she just didn’t know what to say to him.
“Leaving so soon?” a half-awake voice drawled from across the room. Tifa turned to see Reno watching her, semi-alert eyes following her movements.
“I have somewhere I need to go,” she replied, more coldly thant she’d meant to. Reno nodded and looked away. She turned back to the door.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” said Reno. It took her a moment to figure out he was talking about Sector 7.
“Sorry doesn’t change the past,” she replied.
“No… I suppose it doesn’t,” Reno replied as he caught sight of his clothes drying near the hearth, “But thanks for forgiving me long enough to keep me from freezing to death.”
-fin-
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