Broken.
One.
He sat perfectly still, in the plush leather seat, as he gazed out the window. Midgar was already coming into view, the evening sun glinting off the impressive skyscrapers as the train rumbled steadily towards its destination.
The raucous singing of soldiers, undoubtedly drunk, from the bar two cars down drifted into his carriage, completely empty save for one other occupant across the aisle. He shot a wary glance at his traveling companion, a redhead slouched over his seat in a rumpled white shirt undone at the collar, deep in blissful slumber. Earphones snaked up from his cellphone, blaring indescribably bad music at an uncomfortably loud volume.
The door to the car burst open at this very moment, and four men staggered, rather noisily, into the tastefully furnished carriage. Infantry, he observed from the distinctive blue of their uniforms, and obviously intoxicated, as evidenced from their unsteady gait and the unmistakable reek of alcohol.
'Say..what do we have here, boys?' one of them, a sergeant, judging from his stripes, slurred.
He said nothing and turned to look out the window once again.
'Two civilians, travelling in luxury while the rest of us soldiers are packed in the back like livestock. And this one here..' the officer spat, before continuing, 'is too high and mighty to even look at us.'
A discoloured gob of phlegm smacked into the cool glass of the window, much too close for his liking, and began its slow slide down.
'Leave,' he said blandly.
The sergeant's eyes narrowed.
'Oh? And if we refuse? What're you going to do about it?'
'Then I'll just have to make you, won't I?'
The four men broke into uncontrollable laughter, clutching their sides and gasping for air.
'Did..did you hear that, Sergeant? This..this civilian actually thinks he can makeusleave!' one of the privates wheezed.
He looked on in distaste and a mild air of disinterest before speaking as the unwelcome intruders gradually collected themselves.
'Well, why don't you find out?', he replied levelly, already feeling the familiar rush of power coursing through his veins. He was, in all honestly, spoiling for a fight, with all the pent-up anger and frustration accumulated over the past few weeks threatening to spill over.
'Alright boys, why don't we teach this pansy a lesson in manners? Try not to break too many of his bones.'
'Run along now to your mothers now, ladies. We don't want anyone getting hurt now, do we?' a lazy voice interjected, punctuated with a long yawn.
'Reno, how nice to have you back in the world of the living,' he said, half-mockingly.
Reno ignored him and stretched, working the kinks out of his lanky frame as a metallic rod slid out of a sleeve and into his waiting hand. It hummed to life dangerously as the redhead flicked a stray strand of hair out of his eyes.
It was comical how quickly the sergeant's cocky grin disappeared off his face.
'That's..that's a Turk, Sergeant,' one of the privates whispered nervously, referring to the colloquial term for a member of the Department of Administrative Research.
'I know, now keep quiet,' the sergeant hissed before turning back to Reno and plastering a thoroughly fake smile across his lopsided features.
'No sir. Just a bit of friendly banter, sir. We'll be off now,' the officer replied venomously, before marching through the aisle to the next carriage, his men trudging along behind him with the beaten air of chastised children.
Satisfied, Reno replaced his weapon and settled back into his seat with an exaggerated sigh of contentment.
'..I was perfectly capable of handling that,' he said, somewhat disappointed that his sport had been spoiled.
Reno shot him a sidelong glance.
'I wasn't helping you, you know. They looked friendly enough and it just wouldn't do if you sent them all to the morgue,' the Turk drawled.
'Besides,' Reno said, pausing to light a cigarette, 'the boss told me to keep you out of trouble.'.
A thin trail of smoke curled upwards as Reno exhaled.
'Here. Want one?' the redhead offered.
He ignored him.
Reno shrugged.
'Fine, have it your way.'
They arrived soon after that, the green of the pastures gradually giving way to the concrete and steel of Midgar as the troop train ground to a halt in the city of dreams.
Midgar. Home. His home.
The concept felt alien to him as he contemplated it in his seat, unwilling to jostle with the rest of the soldiers who were disembarking. He had left Midgar as a bright-eyed, idealistic 17 year old for the jungles of Wutai, sure of himself as all youths were and determined to make his mark on the world. For four long years he had struggled to survive in a nation that had tried its hardest to kill him and now, the prodigal son had returned, disillusioned and jaded in every sense of the word.
A brief thought crossed his mind that Midgar was also where shewas, but he banished it as quickly as it had come.
He would have much preferred it if he had left his old, pre-war life entirely behind, a pristine visage filled only with happy memories. Coming back to it as he was now, the city would only be a constant reminder of how much he had changed, and lost, while away. As the circumstances would have it, however, he had nowhere else to go, and thus, he had found himself back in Midgar, whether he liked it or not.
Besides, he told himself, this is a city of 7 million people. He had no intention of ever seeing her again, and the chance that she would find him, even if she had known of his imminent return, was practically zero.
At least, that was what he hoped.
'Come on, let's go. The boss is waiting for you,' Reno interrupted, for once a not unwelcome intrusion.
He retrieved his duffle from the overhead compartment and slung it easily over his shoulder. It contained all of his worldly possessions, nothing spectacular; a few changes of clothes, and a tattered package, smeared with dirt and sweat and..blood.
No, he wouldn't think of it now.
He would deal with it later, when the time came.
The steel of his combat boots thudded dully against the steps as he descended towards the platform, and he drew the leather of his collar in closer as the night chill hit him.
The platform was a bustle of activity, packed with conductors and supervisors and the recently disembarked troops as they all pushed and shoved and shouted over the din to make themselves heard.
He frowned slightly. After all this time, he had grown unaccustomed to crowds, and struggled to suppress the rising nausea of claustrophobia that welled up within him. He was thankful, on this occasion at least, for Reno who, despite his shabby sense of dress, looked the part of a Turk and was accorded all the perks that came along with the job, getting them through the pulsating mass of people with relative ease.
The expansive concourse was no less busy, filled with the joyous, tear-stained reunions of mothers and sons, of husband and wife, and sweethearts. He spotted his welcome committee almost immediately though, standing in a inconspicuous corner. Their sharp, black suits stood out like a sore thumb amidst the civilians who dressed mainly in various garish tones.
'Tseng,' Reno called out with a cheery wave as they approached the group, before pushing his way outside, presumably for another smoke.
A slim man, his black hair pulled back into an elegant ponytail, shot a brief glance of disapproval at Reno's rapidly disappearing back before turning back to address him.
He gave Tseng a slight nod of respect and acknowledgement. This was, after all, the person responsible for extricating him from an extremely undesirable and delicate situation that had developed only a few days prior.
The blonde, slender woman flanking Tseng on the right shifted uncomfortably he drew closer, no doubt for easier access to her sidearm if trouble should occur. He didn't blame her. No doubt he had garnered a nasty and not entirely undeserved reputation for being a troublemaker.
'Stand down, Rude, Elena. I would like to speak with him in private for a moment.'
'But..boss-'
'I said privately, Elena,' Tseng interrupted sternly.
'Yes, sir,' Elena conceded, with no small amount of reluctance, before following Rude, an exceedingly well-built man with eyes hidden behind shades even in this time of the day, out of the entrance.
Tseng waited until his escorts were out of earshot before turning to his guest.
'Good evening, Captain. I trust there was no trouble on the journey here?'
'I'm not with the army anymore,' he replied, his face expressionless.
'A term of convenience. Forgive me.'
There was a brief pause as Tseng surveyed their surroundings before discreetly handing him a small slip of paper.
'An apartment in the city has been arranged for you. I am also aware of your..condition..'
He felt an uncomfortable twinge in his left arm, as if in reminder.
'..but I cannot help you openly. There is an old acquaintance of yours, however, who may be able to assist you. I trust you remember Cid?'
'Cid Highwind?'
'Yes. He knows people who may be able to help with..unofficial business.'
'Why are you helping me?' he demanded. 'Surely, you've had your orders.'
Tseng paused for a moment, and a rare flicker of emotion crossed his usually taciturn features.
'For an old friend. We may be Turks, but we're also human,' Tseng said quietly.
He fell silent, suddenly finding himself at a loss for words before Tseng spoke again.
'Well then, I have important business to attend to and must leave. Stay out of trouble, and good luck, Cloud.'.
A/N:I actually had this written when I submitted the prologue but took my time to edit and amend this one. Just couldn't resist throwing in a bit of suspense by not revealing who he was right until the end, but I'm sure many of you guessed. I mean, who else could it be? Once again, reviews please. Constructive criticism would be good.
Irish-Brigid;Thank you for pointing that out. That was actually an oversight on my part, but yeah I do write like that sometimes and I always have loads to delete when checking stuff over. It's a bad habit of mine that school does nothing to correct.