Chapter Text
A faint buzzing sound woke Reno. Repetitive, irritating – a mosquito inches from his ear.
“Ughmph,” he groaned, and rolled over.
His head thumped and his stomach lurched. Sunlight streamed in through threadbare curtains, illuminating the discarded clothes on the floor. He managed to pick out his own suit amongst the pile, and then a white crop that most definitely wasn’t his, some blue jeans, an oversized tee, a… bandana? Oh no. Reno glanced over at the sleeping figure that currently shared the bed he lay in. Blond hair and toned shoulders poked out from a loose white sheet.
Strife, right?
And you’re… you’re Reno.
Last night’s memories slammed back into Reno with all the force of a runaway freight train. He remembered drinking on the balcony in the rain. He remembered the feeling of hot steam on cold skin. He remembered the crackle of blue electricity and bullets in the dark. Something squirmed in his stomach, unfamiliar and strange.
What struck him most was the entirely terrifying want to reach out and run his fingers through that pale gold hair, down the curves of those lean shoulders. More than a want. Reno’s hand was halfway outstretched before he curled his fingers back into his palm.
The hell was he thinking? Reno felt a flush rise to his cheeks. No, he had to leave – as quickly and as quietly as he could. It was one thing to stay, but admitting you did? Even worse.
As Reno scanned the apartment again – worn floors, bottles of unopened beer under the side table, house plants and posters attempting to make a rental feel more like home – the buzzing filtered back into his consciousness and Cloud’s sleeping body gave a twitch. Reno rolled over as softly as he could and flopped a hand across the floorboards under the bed until his fingers closed around the source of the buzzing. Lifting his phone, he stared blearily at the screen: RUDE. He sighed and answered, fingers of his free hand going to massage his throbbing temples.
“Yo.”
“Reno?” Rude sounded concerned. “Where are you?”
“Uh…” Reno glanced at Cloud, thankfully still fast asleep. “Does it matter?”
“We lost contact with you on Fair’s progress around midnight last night. Been trying to reach you for hours. What happened?”
Reno’s memory was agonizingly uncensored despite his intermittent vision and aching bones, no doubt thanks to those empty beer bottles still out on the balcony. There was a slight panic rising in his chest, one which he was struggling to keep under control. He remembered vividly the sting of alcohol down his throat, the rumble of an engine between his thighs, the feel of cold rain on his skin. Usually Reno shared everything with Rude. They were partners, after all, and had worked together for years. But this was different. An honest answer was on the tip of Reno’s tongue but he faltered at the last minute, reminded of the last time he’d confided in a Turk about a previous night’s misadventures.
He had to get out of here.
“Look, Rude – I’m not gonna lie to you, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the head by a chocobo. Maybe twelve. Just tell Veld I’m on my way back to HQ, would ya?”
Reno slipped out of bed as he spoke and scrabbled to collect his clothes from the floor, the phone hooked between his shoulder and ear.
Rude’s tone settled into something like exasperation, now that he’d ascertained that Reno wasn’t hurt. “Tell him yourself.”
“Rude, you son of a –” Reno abruptly fell silent when the body in the bed behind him gave a shallow sigh and shifted position. He gritted his teeth and continued, quieter this time: “Now’s not a good time to be a jackass, alright? I’ll get there when I get there.”
Rude mulled this over. “Don’t keep Veld waiting,” he said at last, and hung up.
Reno cursed under his breath and got to his feet, tiptoeing about the apartment and collecting his things. Shirt, trousers, nightstick. Jacket? He scoured the floor and spotted it partially under the bed. Shirt half-on, Reno ducked forwards and reached for it, meeting a set of brilliant blue eyes as he came up holding the jacket in his hand.
“Shit,” he said, and fell backwards onto the floor.
“Sorry!” It took Cloud an equally hungover moment to take in Reno’s appearance, and then it dawned on him. “You’re… leaving.”
Guilt stirred in the pit of Reno’s stomach and he shook it off, getting awkwardly to his feet and pulling on the jacket. He didn’t do morning-afters. He didn’t usually stay.
“Uh, yeah. Look. I’m gonna level with you, man: I don’t usually fuck below 1st Class.”
“So you’ve said.” Cloud wasn’t buying it. “You got somewhere you need to be?”
Reno snorted. “No shit.”
“Can’t even tempt you with some breakfast?”
“Nope.”
Cloud held his gaze steadily, but the hand that twisted tighter into the bedsheet gave him away.
“Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes,” Reno sighed after a beat. “Won’t work on the Turks. Haven’t you heard? We’ve got hearts of stone.”
“Funny. Seemed to work pretty well on you last night.”
Reno raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, you’ve got guts, I’ll give ya that. Not every night I drink with Troopers.”
“Or fuck them, either.” There was a glimmer of something roguish in Cloud’s eye. “A night for firsts, then. You could make a habit of it.”
The witty retort stuck in Reno’s throat as he was struck suddenly by the memory of Cloud’s face in the low light of the apartment, raining pounding down past the window outside, and kissing him like he wouldn’t get the chance to again. Something burned in his chest and it took every ounce of control Reno had to keep it calm. Cloud looked at him and sighed when Reno didn’t reply.
“I guess not. Don’t worry, I won’t make things awkward. Not like a Trooper and a Turk have much business talking to one another anyways.”
“Yeah,” Reno answered weakly. “No shit.”
There was a loaded silence. Reno hovered in the middle of the apartment and Cloud sat up, pulling the bedsheet around his waist. Reno took the opportunity to appreciate the view. Cloud’s torso was bruised quite badly, mostly on the right-hand side, and Reno knew they weren’t simply from training. The crack of a bat in the shadows of an alley rang sharply through Reno’s mind and he winced, trying to divert his attention elsewhere. The bruises trailed down Cloud’s jaw and breastbone, however, Reno could proudly claim credit for.
Reno paused for a minute, overwhelmed, uncertain, and then said: “Well. See ya.”
Not waiting to hear Cloud’s response, Reno turned the handle of the door and left, trying to ignore the unbearable feeling it gave him. He’d made it half way down the balcony stairs outside the apartment when he heard the door reopen and looked up to see Cloud in nothing but the bedsheet, peering out of the doorway. His face lit up when he laid eyes on Reno.
“You had a good time, though, right?” he called, flush with embarrassment and eyes squinting against the early morning light.
And Reno couldn’t help but chuckle. Kid’s got guts, alright.
“Meh,” Reno called back with a wink.
Cloud laughed and watched Reno leave, not taking his eyes off of him until he’d turned the corner and was out of sight. Reno stuck a hand into his jacket pocket, rolling aching shoulders, and searched for his cigarettes. He frowned when his fingers instead closed around a small square of card.
“The hell…?” he muttered, and pulled it out.
It was blank. Confused, he flipped it over. There was a phone number scrawled in looping script on the back, and underneath, it was signed: Cloud. X.
Reno chuckled and turned the card over a couple more times in his hand. After a long minute, he shrugged, and put it back in his pocket.
XXX
Only eight visible bruises, Reno counted, on his way back to HQ, and the cut on his cheek had been carefully patched with a band aid. Rude had picked him up at the Sector 5 train station and immediately started lecturing him on protocol.
“That’s insubordination.” Reno poked Rude’s arm. “I’ll report you for that.”
“Who was he?” Rude’s expression didn’t change.
Reno sat back against the seat and folded his arms. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really? Because you’ve gotta face like you’ve had a bad run in with a cactuar and six missed buttons on your shirt, which is three more than usual.”
“So?” Reno pouted.
“So: who was he?”
Reno sniffed and gave in, doing his best to appear nonchalant. “Dunno. Some cute blond Trooper. Great ass.”
The cogs in Rude’s head turned. “You were on Fair’s detail last night. You mean Strife? Scrawny little guy? Hair spiked up like a chocobo?”
“Don’t remind me.” Reno groaned. “Why, he important?”
“He’s scheduled for the Nibelheim mission. Got the notice from Veld last night.”
Reno shot forward in his seat. “What? When?”
“Today, I think.”
“But Sephiroth’s on that mission. They don’t send him unless they think it’s gonna be dangerous.”
Rude looked at Reno over his shades. “…Your point being?”
Reno slumped back into the seat, huffing. “Forget it,” he muttered, heart racing. “Just drive, would ya?”
They made it back to HQ in record time. Reno button-mashed the elevator keys until it dinged at B3. Rude eyed him from behind; Reno could feel his partner’s eyes like lasers through the back of his skull. It was doing nothing for his slowly spiralling mood.
“Yo, cut it out, would ya? Makin’ me feel like one of Hojo’s lab rats.”
Rude huffed and followed Reno out of the elevator. “It’s just… nevermind.”
Reno hesitated, hand hovering above the door to Veld’s office, before he turned round to glare at Rude.
“What? Say it. Go on.”
Rude sighed. “Just that you seem twitchy. That Strife boy got under your skin. Ain’t seen you like this in a long while.”
Reno bristled defensively. “What are you, my shrink? Fuck off.”
He turned the door handle and strode up to Veld’s desk where the leader of the Turks was sat, dark eyes glued to a mission report in front of him. He glanced up as Reno and Rude entered, leant back slightly, and steepled his fingers together like a disapproving schoolmaster. The look on Veld’s face irked Reno more than he cared to admit.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” Veld drawled. “Where were you? Tseng was going spare. I had to assure him you weren’t off drunk somewhere with another floozy from Sector 5 like last time.”
Reno choked on his response, producing a slightly pathetic noise from the back of his throat, and Veld sighed.
“It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you have a job to do.”
Reno perked back up. “Nibelheim, right?”
Veld raised an eyebrow. “No. Who told you that? I want you and Rude to clear protesters out of the vicinity of Mako Reactor 2 so that Rufus can give a press conference there this evening.”
“Then who’re you sending on the Nibelheim mission?”
“Tseng.”
“Tseng?” Reno prickled. “You’re shittin’ me, right?”
Veld addressed Reno with a tone usually reserved for dealing with petulant children under the age of seven. “Is there some sort of problem with my orders, Reno, or do you need them repeated? Tseng will shadow Sephiroth to Nibelheim. You will stay in Midgar to assist the President’s son, as I see fit. Let me make it clear that this isn’t up for debate.”
Reno opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he felt Rude’s hand on his shoulder.
“He gets it,” Rude said calmly. “Don’t worry. We’ll head out to Sector 2 now.”
Reno grit his teeth.
“Good.” Veld’s tone did not invite further conversation.
Reno allowed himself to be led out of Veld’s office before turning to Rude, barely containing his outburst until the door swung shut behind them.
“Tseng? He’s sending Tseng over us?”
“Why’d you think he’d even consider sending us? Tseng is second in command.” Seeing the look on Reno’s face, Rude quickly adjusted his tone from rational to reassuring. “Look, if something happens, Tseng will radio HQ, and we’ll head in. It’s protocol.”
“Screw protocol. That should be our mission.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
Reno flushed. “’Cause we’re better at this crap than Tseng is!”
“Right.” Rude chuckled. “And it’s in no way because you wanna protect your new boy-toy from a few Mako-powered monsters?”
“Pssh, yeah, right,” Reno lied, stalking off towards the lift again. “Didn’t even remember his name until you said it on the way over here.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
Reno punched Rude in the arm as the lift arrived at their floor. “Shut up, man.”
But Reno had been right to worry. Sometime later, in the middle of an evening’s game of cards in Veld’s office, Veld’s phone rang, and his face hardened the longer he stayed on the call. Reno exchanged a look with Rude before Veld hung up.
“Get your things,” Veld said sharply. “We’re leaving for Nibelheim.”
XXX
The lights of Wall Market played brokenly across the puddles on the concrete from the day’s earlier showers. Reno lounged by the entrance, the glow of his cigarette illuminating the hollows under his eyes. His back ached and his feet hurt. Babysitting Zack Fair and his equally spiky-haired friend was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but orders were orders.
“How you holding up?” Rude’s voice crackled through his earpiece.
Reno took a drag on the cigarette. “I’ve already thought about killing myself twice.”
“That good, huh?”
Reno glanced over his shoulder to where the two Shinra recruits were perusing a stall selling bean buns. “Says you. Sephiroth never goes anywhere on his nights off. Might as well not even tail him.”
“Look on the bright side.” A pause.
Reno huffed out a laugh. “Exactly.”
“You know what I mean. See you around.”
Reno sighed and stood up, slipping into the throng of Wall Market after dark. Most folks were either too drunk or too busy to notice him pass by, keeping a close eye out for Zack and his friend as they moved down the concrete stairs towards the Honey Bee Inn. It was kind of nice to blend in, and Reno took up a position by an outdoor table to finish his cigarette. From here, he could see Zack tugging the young man dressed in a white crop and belted jeans towards the curtains marking the Inn’s entrance. What was the kid’s name again? Reno wracked his brains. Strife. Cloud Strife. That was it. Right?
“Zack, I can’t – I can’t.” Cloud laughed and held up his hands.
“Sure you can!” The SOLDIER chirruped. “I already booked us a booth. It’s your eighteenth! Time for baby’s first legal lap dance.” Zack winked. Reno snorted from the shadows of the bar.
Cloud looked utterly mortified. “Zack.”
“Okay, I’m kidding,” Zack waved a hand and grinned. “But seriously, let’s get some drinks. Maybe you’ll meet someone nice. And then you won’t even need to pay for a dance!”
“Zack!”
The boys headed out and Reno dutifully followed. He wondered internally if Rude had headed home yet. Or if at least he was getting some shut eye since Sephiroth rarely left the miniature library he’d amassed in his quarters. Reno’s gaze took in Cloud’s slim waist and broad shoulders as the boys made for a bar up the stairs. The Trooper was nice to look at, there was no denying it. Damn shame they hid all that under the featureless uniform most of the day.
Zack stopped to flirt with some women dressed as cowgirls and Reno slunk into a side alley while they were distracted, flicking the butt of his cigarette into one of the puddles in the concrete. He watched as Zack plucked the stetson from the girl’s head and goofed around, putting it on his own, and then on Cloud’s. The girl eyed them both appreciatively and then took off the fabric bandana tied around the hat, scribbled something onto it with a marker, and handed it to Cloud. He blushed and gave her back her hat, and the pair continued on their way. Reno dragged a hand across his face. God, this kid was terrible at flirting. His pull game was almost as bad as Rude’s.
He tailed them for a bit longer until they downed a few shots from a pop-up stand and entered into a black-lit nightclub. Reno sighed, undid a few more shirt buttons, and reluctantly followed them inside.
After several hours of watching Zack and Cloud duck in and out of bars, clubs, and diners in Wall Market, Reno thought he deserved a drink. After all, Zack was getting seemingly drunker by the second, and Cloud, as ever, trailed after him like a chick to mother. In fact, Reno had just swiped a beer from a man too deeply immersed in seducing an obviously disinterested young woman to notice, when he heard Zack pleading with Cloud as they emerged from their fourth bar.
“You know I love you, man, but we’re fresh back from Junon, and I’m leaving Midgar tomorrow, and…”
Cloud chuckled and waved. “It’s fine.”
Reno cocked his head and leant back into the shadows. Cloud was now wearing the cowgirl’s bandana around his neck, his hair adorably dishevelled. Zack was flush in the face and holding a half-eaten taco in one hand. Reno took a swig of his beer.
“You need to meet her,” Zack said lovingly, slinging an arm around Cloud’s waist. “After I’m back from Nibelheim, we’ll do a date. Double date. Find someone cute and bring them along. Who’s that girl you said you were crushing on from back home?”
“Why can’t I just meet her, just me?”
“Because…” drunk Zack pondered this. “Fine. Just you. But just make sure to get some in the meantime. Don’t want all this going to waste.”
Zack squeezed Cloud’s midriff and he laughed, swatting Zack away.
“You got it.”
“Anyway. Love you. Gotta run.” Zack kissed Cloud on the side of the head and jogged off into the nearest alley. “Happy birthday, you beautiful son of a bitch! Get some water and go to bed at a reasonable hour!”
Cloud laughed, shouting back: “Yes, mother!” as Zack disappeared into the shadows.
Reno narrowed his eyes, watching the way Cloud’s posture visibly changed the moment Zack was gone. His shoulders slumped, his head sunk forwards, and one hand automatically went into his pocket in an attempt to look casual.
Something snagged in Reno’s chest.
Reno was so distracted, in fact, that he didn’t notice as his foot caught on a broken bottle. When had he taken a step forward? Didn’t matter. Cloud’s head whipped round and his eyes landed on Reno, not-so-hidden in the gloom of the stairwell. Ha. The kid wasn’t as drunk as he was letting Zack think he was. And for a brief moment, Reno was sort of mesmerised by the brilliant blue of Cloud’s eyes, before he realised his cover was well and truly blown.
“Shit,” Reno muttered, and palmed the back of his neck. “Guess the jig is up.”
He took a few steps forward and did a mock bow, holding the beer bottle against his stomach. “Strife, right?”
Cloud nodded. “And you’re… you’re Reno.” He looked around, concerned. “You’re a Turk. Why are the Turks here? Is something happening, sir?”
“Not anymore, it ain’t.” Reno nodded in the direction Zack had exited. “Your boy Zack is off for his Sector 5 booty call and I, my good bitch, am out of here.”
It took a few seconds for things to filter into Cloud’s brain. “You were tailing Zack?”
Reno shrugged. “Wish I wasn’t, believe me. I had much better plans for my evening than watching you two get shitfaced. Specifically, me getting shitfaced.”
“Sorry, sir.” Cloud offered him a smile. “But hey, thanks for looking out for Zack.”
Ouch. Is this kid stupid? Reno thought, and then bobbed his head. “Yeah, whatever, man. And quit calling me sir – you’re not on duty. You headed home? It nearby?”
“Uh.” Cloud glanced around. “Not really.”
Cloud stood there for a moment and then shot Reno an awkward smile. Reno stared at him, running his tongue across the back of his bottom teeth. He could do worse. Much worse.
And those eyes.
Reno took another step forward and offered Cloud the bottle in his hand. Cloud regarded it for a second and then took it, nodded to Reno, and drank.
“It’s your birthday?” Reno asked, taking back the bottle. “You ain’t meeting up with anyone else tonight, are ya?”
“Nope.”
Cloud’s eyes followed the line of Reno’s jacket as he passed the bottle back.
“Mhm.” A pause; another flutter in Reno’s chest. “Wanna head over to Sector 5 and grab a seat at a bar that doesn’t smell of puke?”
Cloud looked surprised for a second, but it quickly melted into delight. “Yeah,” he said, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. “Sounds good.”
They made their way out of the heat and light of Wall Market, taking the back roads through to Sector 5. Away from the buzz of noise and barely filtered consciousness, there was a sort of peace that even Reno could appreciate. He walked next to Cloud, and they passed the bottle back and forth between them.
“You’re my superior,” Cloud said slowly, as if the notion had just occurred to him. “Am I… am I gonna get in trouble for this?”
Reno snorted. “For what? We’re just having a drink, not spilling company secrets to the Daily Buzz. Whatcha think Shinra’s gonna do? Send down a team of 1st Classers to come and beat the crap outta us?”
Cloud laughed, seeming to shake off his nerves a little at Reno’s blasé attitude. “Sorry. I just… You’re right.”
“Hell yeah I am. Now let’s get moving. I’m fucking parched.”
They made it into the Sector 5 slums and turned down into a pathway where a small bar was nestled under a huge sheet of rubble. It wasn’t busy, but the owner shot Reno a nervous look before fetching them their beers. Cloud sat down next to Reno and leant on the bar, looking equally worried.
“Lighten up, man,” Reno scoffed, taking a drink from the bottles the bartender sat down in front of them. “He’s just twitchy ‘cause they don’t usually get Turks down here. Well, that’s not technically true, but they don’t usually get me.”
Cloud frowned. “You mean Veld?”
Reno snorted and shook his head. “Hell no. But we’re not here to talk about my boss. We’re here to drink, and, uh, celebrate your birthday. And stuff.”
Reno held his bottle out and Cloud clinked it with his own, a soft smile gracing his lips. Reno looked away, feeling something a little too hungry stir in the pit of his stomach. They sat in silence for a while, drinking and watching as the bartender closed up for the evening. A little radio at the end of the bar sputtered out some half-decent songs, which got slower and more melodic as the night drew on. Bare bulbs strung in rows above the seats glowed yellow in the dark.
With their second round of drinks, Cloud seemed to grow a little more spine.
“So… what’s it like being a Turk?”
Reno shot him a sideways glance. “What’s it like being a Trooper?”
Cloud chuckled. “Is that meant to be a trick question?”
“Maybe.”
“Fine.” Cloud smiled. “Then why did you ask me out for drinks? I’m a nobody. I bet you didn’t even know my name until a few hours ago.”
“Not true,” Reno lied. “I asked you out because…” he hesitated. Truth or lie? “I’m bored.”
“You’re… bored?”
“Sure.”
Cloud fell silent and stared at Reno, narrowing his eyes. Reno could see him sizing up the statement. And then he could see his eyes trail down his chest to where there was a single button left holding his shirt closed. Reno chuckled and took a long drink. The booze was beginning to filter into his conscious and turned the edges of everything soft. The light from the bulbs above seemed to glimmer brighter. The music from the radio bled pleasantly into their surroundings.
Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Reno turned and pointed his bottle in Cloud’s direction. “Presents. You get birthday presents?”
Cloud blinked. “Uh, no, not really. Zack paid for everything in Wall Market. And you’re paying for the drinks here. I’d call that a present.”
“Pfft. You’ve got low standards, man. I’ve blackmailed Rude into getting me some real nice Summons for my birthday three years in a row now.”
“If you’re blackmailing him, is it really a present?”
“All the same to me.”
Cloud paused. “How are you blackmailing him?”
Reno grinned. “Now you’re asking the right questions.”
The third round of drinks arrived and the bar emptied as it approached midnight. Reno had dragged his chair closer to Cloud’s and the young Trooper was laughing, his eyes crinkled up and shining in the low light. They both were feeling the drink now, the way everything was warm and nice and they could brush arms without it seeming out of place. The radio hummed and a new song began to play. Cloud tilted his head, eyes widening as the melody thrummed through the worn speaker.
Reno raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“I… ah, it’s nothing. I just… I love this song.”
Cloud closed his eyes and bobbed his head appreciatively, mumbling the words under his breath, cheeks flush with alcohol. Reno drank in every inch of his face while he wasn’t looking; the dark eyelashes, the sharp jawline, the slightly pink-tinged nose. And here he’d thought Zack had been the pretty boy.
Cloud slipped off of the stool and swayed back and forth, vaguely in time with the rhythm. Reno slid round in his seat, leaning both arms behind him against the bar and watching as Cloud moved around, smiling as he waved his fingers through the air to the music. Reno didn’t miss the way the bandana brushed against his neck, the rise and fall of the cropped tee, the subtle glimpses of skin beneath. He took a drink to distract himself. It didn’t work. That hungry thing was back, desperate and warm and so very very wanting for the blond-haired boy with the sappy smile.
A self-conscious laugh derailed Reno’s train of thought as Cloud caught sight of Reno watching him. “Sorry, I just… my mom and me used to dance to this all the time.”
Reno shrugged. It was getting harder by the second to stay nonchalant, now that the drink was making everything so much easier to say.
“Then let’s dance.”
He hopped off of the stool and snatched up Cloud’s wrist. The song was a soft one, acoustic, but with rhythmic guitar strings that gave it purpose. Reno didn’t know the words but it didn’t matter. Cloud flushed and smiled as best he could to disguise his surprise, and fell into step with his new dance partner.
“We Turks ain’t always assholes, ya know,” Reno murmured as they moved slowly together, fingers burning where they held his wrist.
Cloud smiled playfully. “Hmm. I think I still need a little convincing.”
“That so?”
They drew closer together, the world made bright at its edges as the alcohol settled into their veins. A rogue hand found itself at Cloud’s waist, as the other slid up to wind its fingers in his. Reno pulled Cloud closer and ducked his head, feeling Cloud’s warm breaths on his lips as their noses brushed. God, he’d missed this. Half-lidded eyes, lips slick with drink, fumbling and desperate but a little unsteady with need. And Cloud was just as starved. Those shallow little breaths and lazy grasps for his belt were proof enough of that.
Reno leant forwards to bridge the gap, to taste the parted lips in front of him, and –
“Reno.” Tseng’s voice crackled sharply through his earpiece. “Status report. Any updates on Fair?”
Reno grit his teeth and sighed, disentangling himself from Cloud so that he could reach up and snatch the earpiece out of his ear. Cloud watched with amusement as Reno then proceeded to hurl the earpiece as far as he possibly could away from them, listening as it hit a far-off roof with a resounding ping.
“That could have been important,” Cloud commented, as Reno stalked over to the bar and dropped a few gil on the counter for their last round. “Official, ‘top secret’ Shinra business.”
“Who gives a shit if it was? Far as I’m concerned, I’m officially off the clock.” Reno paused and looked at him, a little wantonly. “Wanna get out of here?”
Cloud blushed. “Thought you’d never ask.”
XXX
Nibelheim was burning.
Reno had his face pressed up against the chopper window, staring down at the town in flames below him. Dawn was cresting over the horizon but there were still areas below that were engulfed by fire, burning hot enough to fool anyone into believing that they’d just started. Bodies littered the ground. The water tower in the centre of town had collapsed and from where they flitted over the wreckage, Reno could pick out Shinra troops on the ground working to douse the blaze.
“What happened here?” Rude murmured.
From the back of the chopper, Veld cleared his throat and got to his feet. “Official statement so far is that the reactor on Mt. Nibel exploded and monsters swarmed the town.”
“Right,” Reno managed through gritted teeth, “and what’s the unofficial statement?”
Veld paused. “That, we are still trying to completely ascertain. But as far as reports go… something occurred at the reactor. We’re not sure what. And this–” Veld gestured to the carnage below them “–was somehow Sephiroth’s doing.”
Reno looked sharply to Rude, who shared his look of disbelief.
“Any survivors?” Rude asked.
“As far as we’re aware, 1st Class SOLDIER Zack Fair and a few townsfolk are alive but severely injured, as well as one of the Troopers we sent to accompany Fair and Sephiroth.”
Reno felt his breathing quicken. “What’s the name?”
Veld looked at Reno curiously and then consulted a small data tablet nestled into the crook of his arm. “Trooper Strife. Cloud Strife.”
Reno whipped around to face Rude. “Get us down there. Now.”
The chopper landed not far from the reactor atop Mt. Nibel and before it had even touched the ground Reno leapt down and ran across to where a cluster of Shinra troops were gathered in front of Tseng. He looked like he hadn’t slept, and the left side of his face was stained in smoke from the fires below. Next to him stood Professor Hojo, who was poking at a corpse on a gurney beside him with a morbid enthusiasm on his face. The chopper that Hojo had arrived in took off abruptly as Rude landed.
“Tseng!” Reno shouted over the whir of the helicopter blades. “Tseng!”
Tseng glanced up from where he was talking to one of the other Turks – Ruluf, Reno noted distractedly – and quickly dismissed him. Ruluf nodded to Tseng, glanced sharply to Reno, and then hurried away.
“Reno.” Tseng turned to face him. “Good to see reinforcements have finally arrived.”
“The hell is he doing here?” Reno stabbed a finger accusingly at Hojo, who didn’t look up from the charred cadaver he was prying open with the tip of his pen.
Tseng raised an eyebrow. “Protocol. You know that. The reactor in Mt. Nibel has given the Professor much interest due to the unusual specimens it has produced.”
“Bullshit,” Reno hissed. “You know for a fact that if there weren’t any survivors he wouldn’t have to–”
“Reno.” Veld’s voice rang out sharply behind him. “That’s enough.”
Reno turned around to glare at Veld as his superior fell in line and nodded to Tseng. Rude followed, standing a short distance off with his hands folded in front of him. He shot Reno a warning look over his shades and Reno bit back whatever venomous words had bubbled up in the back of his throat.
“Tseng. Status report.”
Tseng looked at Veld and nodded. “Survivors of the attack are being loaded into transport vehicles as we speak courtesy of Units 7 and 8. Units 2 and 6 are putting out the remaining fires on the east of Nibelheim. As for the reactor…” Tseng glanced at the entrance off to his right. “Units 1, 3, and 4 are unloading the specimens from inside. Unit 5 has been assigned to transporting Jenova in a separate convoy.”
Hojo wandered up behind him and addressed the assembled Turks, his smile unsettlingly wide. “As the head of Shinra’s Science Research Division, might I pose a suggestion to you fine gentlemen?”
Veld looked at him. “Go ahead, Professor.”
“Specimens tainted with Mako and… other such manifestations, might be best dissected in my lab in Shinra Manor.” The Professor chuckled sinisterly. “The survivors might bear some interesting changes from their time exposed to such chemicals. It would be quite exquisite to break them down to a cellular level and see how the events of tonight have altered their genetic makeup. In fact, I’m sure President Shinra would be thrilled to hear that something of value can be salvaged from this – dare I say it – disaster of a mission.”
Reno gaped at Hojo. “Yo, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am, my boy,” Hojo sneered, adjusting his glasses. “Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do in the pursuit of science?”
“He’s right.”
Everyone turned to look at Veld. Even Tseng looked a little perturbed by his agreement with Hojo.
“Veld, might I suggest–”
“No need, Tseng.” Veld took a step forwards and nodded to Hojo. “Professor, feel free to utilise Units 1, 3, 4, 7, and 8 as you see fit.”
“You bastard.”
All eyes fell on Reno. He was staring Veld straight in the face, breathing raggedly, fists clenched.
“Reno,” Rude said warningly, but it fell on deaf ears.
“How could you?” Reno spat. “Those are our people, man. They’re on our side. Shinra, remember?”
Veld’s expression settled into something altogether terrifying. “Not anymore they’re not. Tseng, ensure the necessary preparations are made to assist Professor Hojo in his research. That order is final.”
Veld strode away back towards the chopper. Reno looked at Tseng, feeling all that anger burning in his chest turn suddenly cold. He looked at Rude, who shared his helplessness.
“I’m sorry, Reno,” Tseng murmured, and turned away.
“Tseng.” Reno didn’t like the way his own voice wavered. “You can fix this. You can.”
Tseng looked back at Reno over his shoulder. “Orders are orders.”
Rude lunged forwards in time to catch Reno before his fist made contact with the back of Tseng’s head. Reno could feel everyone looking at him, slowing in what they were doing to watch. It only made him angrier. Tseng glanced at Reno and then turned his back, walking off with Hojo as Rude wrestled Reno into submission.
“Reno – stop.”
“Get the fuck off me, man!” Reno snapped, but Rude didn’t let go. “They’re not dead yet! Ya hear that, Tseng?” He shouted in the other Turk’s direction. “You’re killing them! You bastard!”
“Reno!” It wasn’t often Rude raised his voice, and Reno flinched to hear it. “Enough. He’s just following protocol. Leave it. There’s nothing we can do.”
Reno writhed in Rude’s iron grip until he was breathless, and only then did Rude release him. Reno sat there on the ground, panting, feeling utterly powerless.
“You know what Hojo does to people,” he said after a moment, voice low and tired. “You’ve seen it.”
Rude nodded. “I know. I…” Rude paused, and let out a slightly unsteady breath. “I’m sorry.”
Reno looked up, watching the first of the trucks pull away from Mt. Nibel, and knew that there was nothing he could do to stop them. He slipped a hand into his pocket, felt around for the little square of card with Cloud’s number on the back, and pulled it out.
Cloud. X.
After a long minute, he slipped the card back into his pocket, got roughly to his feet, and walked away.