I remember the first time I spoke to him.

It was raining, just a little, and I sat outside with some of the boys from the slums of my old sector, a cigarette between my lips and a half empty bottle of beer in my right hand.
Everyone was laughing, and whilst it was probably the drink, I like to think that the boys back home and I had a deeper connection.

It was fun.

Life in itself was a bitch, because we were scum with no money and no future, but our little community was so much tighter than any other, I was certain of it. People came and went from the slums, from our sector, so we didn't pay particular attention to new strangers and passing bodies.
It would of been impossible though, to not pay attention to him.

First of all, we all knew of the Turks. Ruthless, vengeful assholes in pretty nice suits.
They came here now and again, in their 'recruitment' processes. So some of the boys had disappeared for their SOLDIER, and the ones who refused to go, disappeared completely.
We didn't know much, but it was a known fact that you did not mess with Shin-Ra.

When they came, you were quiet and stayed in the distance, not many people actually wanted to be chosen.
Living in Midgar, you saw much more than the other towns, and the lifestyle of a SOLDIER was certainly not what it was made out to be with the life-sized posters of Sephiroth, and bright television commercials promising socialising, experience and fun.
We saw poor bastards come through mutated, and that wasn't really my idea of a good time.
So we'd stay quiet, and watch.

I'd seen him before.
He was always so calm, it was frustrating for me to even watch. How he'd stand in the middle of the other two and move his mouth in proposition, his gloved hands folded behind his back.
Tseng, his name was. He was the only one who was consistent in appearing, along with this new big guy, who was just as stoic as the Asian.

And that's what he introduced himself as when he stood in front of me then.

It half amused me, and half scared the crap out of me as I realised that all of my boys had scattered, and now it was just me sitting on those God damned steps, with a cigarette, looking up at this gorgeous Wutanese man
His lips moved in that familiar way, although it was definitely far more hypnotising on closer inspection.
I missed his words completely, I think.

Honestly, I was mesmerised by how he looked, standing over me with the hazy yellow lamplight washing over his form, that fucking suit ironed perfectly. There wasn't a single crease on it, not a speckle of dust, not a hair.
Nothing.
It was perfect, and it looked perfect on him. I noted that it made his shoulders look somewhat broader than they probably were, but the white shirt against his tanned skin, the dark blue fabric framing his legs, and arms...
And although I wouldn't see it for a while, when I did, that ass of his in those dress pants was just the most distracting thing in the world. As soon as he took off his jacket for the first time, and stood with his back to me, I became positive that this beautiful asshole of a man was created simply to torture me.

"...so how do you feel about that?"

His voice broke me from my trance, and I shifted my gaze to look up into his instead of carrying on with this inspection of his body, imagining what it looked like underneath the suit.

Damn...

"Eh, SOLDIER," I mumbled clumsily, assuming that was what he asked. I don't want to join SOLDIER. But I didn't want a bullet in my head either.
Before I had the opportunity to give him my best speech about how I had seven kids and a retarded horse to care for, at the age of eighteen nonetheless, he moved those clean, tanned fingers to my lips, and simply stole my cigarette.

"You haven't heard a word I said," that honey thick tone made me nod as he puffed on the cancer stick twice, before tossing it away.
"I've been watching you. I want you to join The Turks."
You've been watching me, huh...

"The Turks?" I repeated and let the bottle of alcohol roll from my hand as he took a step back in encouragement for me to rise, which I did obediently.

I'd never know anyone who was asked to join The Turks.

"But I don't have any... I don't even know what you do," I shrugged now, standing up and noticing that I was about an inch taller than him.

"I'll teach you everything you'll need to know."

And honestly, I wasn't about to argue with a Turk. Not this Turk, anyway.

So it was exactly four hours later that I found my little drunken self sitting in an office that I'd get to know as Tseng's, wearing a blue suit that didn't make me look even half as good as it did him.

"I don't like this suit," I paused a little, watching him sitting opposite me at the table. "...boss." Boss. I'd never even had a real boss. He seemed mildly amused by my nickname for him, as the right corner of his mouth twitched. Bastard had yet to smile, though. You'd think that bringing a kid in from the slums to somewhere like the Shin-Ra building would cause you to be a little more encouraging, but no, not Tseng.

"That's wonderful. Rude will be your new partner. He'll take you to your apartment. You'll be on light missions first, but whenever combat is involved, you won't interfere. Just watch and inspect Rude. Next Monday at 9am, we'll start your training."

Got it, boss!