The alarm clock shattered the morning silence like a glass dropped in a funeral home. Reno groaned and rolled over, smashing the offending machinery into silence. He felt like death warmed over. Fuck mornings, he grumbled mentally. It was still dark out, and would be for another hour. Reno kicked empty bottles and cans out of his way as he made his way to the living room. He slipped on worn running shoes, and he was off.
Jogging his way down to the slums, the Turk kept is eyes open for any early morning muggers. He highly doubted anything would happen, but you didn't live long as a Turk by assuming you were safe. This time belonged to him. The deep shadows were giving way to a lighter, softer darkness that flattered Midgar. The streets were empty, business either concluded for the night or too early to commence. He breathed the oily air deeply, relishing the fact that it was as close to fresh as it got here, without him being in the chopper above the world looking down.
When he reached the industrial are he was aiming for, his body was warmed up. A light sheen of sweat coated his chest under his tank. He felt ready to do what he would never show a living person. Reno found the mat he had stashed and unrolled it, smoothing the thick material. He breathed deeply, and started with a tree pose. He felt the stretch soothe his mind. He breathed in and out, focusing on the breath.
People wondered how the Turks did their job without going crazy. Reno pretended that it was by not caring, by drinking and drugs and women that he forgot that he killed, tortured and blackmailed for a living. Really though, it was this quiet moment in the morning that helped him let go of the faces he saw in his nightmares. The men, women, and children.
Sometimes he thought Rude suspected Reno wasn't as careless as he appeared, but the man knew how to keep a secret. Reno trusted him to keep his suspicions quiet unless it mattered on a mission. They both had dirt on each other.
As Reno was finishing with a cat stretch, he heard a scuffle. He whipped around, the gun in his waistband cocked at the noise before the man had time to blink. Forty feet away, the man's eyes widened, and he began to sweat as he realized that he had just discovered Reno of the Turks in a private moment. He ran. Reno shot his knees out.
Reno strode to where the man was groaning on the ground. He looked the other man in the eye before smirking. He lit a cigarette, also tucked into his waistband.
"Yo. You saw something you shouldn't have. Sorry about that," Reno said. He searched the man, and found his ID and incriminating evidence.
"Now, since I'm feelin' good, I'll give you some options. I shoot you now 'cause I can't trust you. I shoot you later 'cause you start singin' bout this. Or you can keep quiet, 'cause you know I know you're at the receiving end of an illegal drug down in 7th. Can you do that for me?" Reno packed his gun, pulled out a switchblade. He dangled it over the man's face with his "crazy face" on. The one that said: "I like to cut things. You'd cut up nice". The man nodded frantically, his eyes on the swinging blade. Reno sighed dramatically.
"You're lucky, yanno? The things I do for people," he dug his bullets out of the man's knees. The man screamed and flailed. Reno knocked him out and surveyed his work. Not too much damage to the guy's legs. His shot was damned legend. He pocketed the bullets; Shinra was a bitch about tracking them. Reno tied the bloody holes with fabric from the man's pants. He dropped the bag of drugs on the man's slumped form.
Damn, Reno thought. I'm gonna have to find a new place. What about that place down near the Corner? Reno whistled as he rolled up his mat. He would need to hurry now. Reno would have to run and get back to his apartment to pretend he was asleep when Tseng called to get him into the office for being late again. Fucker.