Disclaimer: This work is produced for entertainment purposes only, and no profit motive what-so-ever. Cloud, Reno, Midgar and any environment/beasties mentioned that belong to Final Fantasy belong to Square Enix and/or any affiliated company that helped produce the film who legally have a right to it.
NB: My first not-one-shot. Might be a short fic though.
"Watch where you're going."
The hand holding his wrist – only centimetres away from the man's pocket, and his goal – is strong, holding hard enough that he can't wriggle out but not painfully. But it's when he looks up – because the stranger is impossibly standing where only seconds before he had been kneeling – that Reno knows he's in deep shit
Because glowing at him are Mako eyes, so brilliantly blue they may as well be torches when they hit the shadows, and flecked with the green of Mako itself. No ordinary SOLDIER – a First Class. Because what he had mistaken for simple travelling clothes underneath the jacket is, in fact, so like a black jumpsuit it almost can't be anything else.
Shin'Ra doesn't like people stealing. SOLDIERS don't like being stolen from either, and have enough of that green mumbo-jumbo in their veins to make them damn hard to lose, even for him.
"You watch where you're going, freaky-eyes." He snarls in return, trying to wrench his wrist free. He only succeeds because the man lets him, he knows, and that pisses him off big-time. "Damn Shin'Ra meat-head! Think you're better than everyone else because you got green shit in you."
Everyone in the Slums knows the drill. If you get caught pick-pocketing, and are close enough to be recognised, deny, deny, deny. Get affronted, get angry, and get fucking rude. Because Shin'Ra would shoot you as soon as feed you if they found you doing it, and you tried to explain why. And Shin'Ra always accused before proof was presented, especially if it meant they could get one over anyone defending the Slum-folk.
Look here, their shiny paper would say. Another filthy urchin stealing from the pockets of the hard working citizen.
But the blond guy, with hair that sticks up like he has his own personal Gravity materia, isn't even accusing him. Just listening to him rant like it's the funniest thing in the world, eyes laughing at him and the slightest curl of a smile.
"What are you laughing at, huh?" His mouth talks before his brain can catch up, but Reno goes with it. The guy hasn't made a move, but that doesn't mean anything; the SOLDIER's are freaky fast. Reno might not even see him coming if the man decided to attack.
"Potty mouth." Comes the short reply, before the man turns and goes to walk off.
Every instinct flares when he does. The first thought is relief; Reno had just dodged a dagger even he might not be able to deflect, best of the Slum kids though he is. The second, larger thought is indignation. Nobody walks away from Reno!
"Hey!-" He yells, about to call to that effect, but the guy melts into the crowd faster than he's ever seen anyone do it before. And is gone.
Reno spits in disgust, a roiling feeling in his gut.
"Fucking Shin'Ra."