Disclaimer:I don't own Final Fantasy VII. It belongs to SquareEnix. I,
however, do own my original characters and plots.
Author's Note: Once again, a million thanks to all those who reviewed! Sorry I
didn't post this sooner; school and life took over. Alright, this
chapter is written in two different characters' points-of-view.
It's mildly light-hearted, with its little developing conflicts I
think you might hint out. ; In this chapter—as the title
suggests—there will be some friction between characters. XD But
read on to find out. I hope you like this chapter as much as the
others! Thanks, everyone!
Two days later, Aphrodite sat peacefully at the little kitchen table with Ares. It was breakfast time, but no welcoming sunlight filtered through the windows like it did in Nibelheim. The sun never shone in Midgar. And the sky was never seen below the plate. But this had become usual for the slum-girl, after living in Midgar's slums for nearly five years. She had forgotten what the sky looked like; how the sun's warmth felt on her pale skin.
"Ares, can you please pass the butter?" requested Aphrodite, lifting her butter knife from the tabletop.
"Sure, sis'," said Ares, and he tossed her the stick of butter.
"Careful!" squawked the young woman, barely catching the stick. "That's the only one we have! But thanks," she added, spreading a small portion of butter on two slices of bread. Her half-eaten apple sat peacefully on its floral-printed napkin. Small glasses of water were their beverages. This really was all they could afford; well, except for the bread and apples. Those were the stolen ones. Food was hard to come by in the slums.
"Oh, Ares," spoke up Aphrodite after a sip of her water. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"Okay, well…" began the young woman, but she was interrupted by a knock on the door. Aphrodite arched a dark eyebrow. "I'll get that!" she jolted up, dashing for the door.
"Wait, sis'! Let me open the door; you don't know who it is!" protested Ares, and he darted towards the door after Aphrodite.
"Nuh! You just think it's your girlfriend or somethin' and you don't want me embarrassing you!" she squealed.
"That makes no sense! Why would Frances come over in the morning, anyway?"
"You tell me! She's your girlfriend," laughed Aphrodite as she reached the door first. Without thinking, she opened said door, a wide grin on her freckled face.
"Mornin', Goddess of Love," said the smooth voice of the young red-haired man before her.
Aphrodite reddened instantly, sweat drops glistening on her forehead. She wiped her brow. "R-Reno!" She lowered her eyes quickly in embarrassment. "What are you doing here? And knocking…? Turks aren't supposed to knock. They're supposed to…break down your door or something."
Reno slipped his hands into his coat-pockets, smirking. "Duh, today's Saturday, doofus. I would have come over sooner, but I had work. Since I'm off today, thought I'd pay you a visit. I don't usually forget a pretty face."
"Aphrodite, who is this?" spoke up the deep voice of Ares Sorrows behind the young woman.
Aphrodite, in her surprise (and joy, perhaps?), had forgotten that her older brother stood behind her. "Oh!" She still blushed, and she looked back at Ares. "Ares, meet Reno. Reno, meet my brother, Ares. Why don't…you come in, Reno?"
"I don't think so," interjected Ares. He gave the Turk a menacing look.
Reno arched a red eyebrow, and challenged Ares with his equally as intimidating turquoise gaze. "Why not…Ares?"
Aphrodite's eyes widened, and she gulped. Oh, no. Please, please don't fight… "Oof…Reno…I'll talk to you later," she mumbled to him, standing on tiptoes.
"I'll see ya t'night," mumbled the Turk to Aphrodite, staring down Ares all the while. An unfriendly, cold look sparkled in his radiant eyes. "I'll take you to the best bar above the plate. Wait for me by the Sector 7 train station at 7:30."
Aphrodite felt the blood rush to her face, but she smiled in such a way that it resembled a smirk. She looked up at Reno under long, dark, and thick eyelashes and nodded. "See you later, then…thanks."
"Don't thank me," whispered the cocky Turk, playfully pulling one of Aphrodite's light ash-brown curls. He let the curl recoil and bounce against her head, framing her face. "Well, goodbye then, Ares." His voice was icy and poisonous. "Pleasure meeting you," his voice then softened as he smiled at Aphrodite—as if to intimidate the slum-girl's brother. "And, à plus, Aphrodite."
Aphrodite grinned at the wink hinted towards her as he walked away with his laidback, slouchy stature. She waved, curling her fingers. She closed the door, and turned around to see Ares staring down at her with narrowed eyes.
"You dating someone behind my back, Aphrodite?"
The slum-girl shook her head, her curls flicking about. She arched a dark eyebrow. "No, Ares. Why should it bother you, anyway? He's just…an acquaintance, I think."
Ares furrowed his brow, leading his sister to the beat-up leather sofa. "Sit."
So she sat.
He cleared his throat, and crossed his arms. "Aphrodite, I'm your brother, and you're all I have. I must care for you on behalf of Mother and Father. Now, there are men, sis', that are dangerous. That Reno fellow is one of them. He's a Turk."
"I know he's a Turk, Ares," protested Aphrodite, crossing her arms. "He won't hurt me. I know he won't. I feel it. Ares, I'm twenty-one now, okay? I can take care of myself."
"No, you can't," countered Ares, shaking his head of ash-brown locks. "Midgar's a dangerous place, Aphrodite. It's not like Nibelheim. Whether above or below the plate, danger lurks around every corner. Neither you or I can risk your safety."
Aphrodite was, quite frankly, appalled. She stared up at Ares, her jaw dropping. How dare he treat her like a child! She was sick of it; he wouldn't let her live! She gritted her teeth, and stood up, clenching her fists. "So what then, Ares?! Do you want me to stay in this little cottage for all eternity till I'm a feeble old maid? You don't even know Reno. Nor will you let me know him. You treat me as if I were still that naïve little sixteen-year-old girl! I'm not as weak as I used to be, brother. And if you think I'll gladly let you take over my life—which I'm perfectly capable of handling—then you don't know me either, Ares."
And with that, Aphrodite turned heel, bursting out the door.
"Hey, Reno. You doing anything later? Maybe we can have a couple o' drinks at a local bar."
The red-haired Turk was silent a moment, stroking the smooth back of his blue cordless phone. He lay, sprawled and lazy, on his luxurious couch, flipping channels on the telly with his other hand. His ponytail was messy and undone, but he ignored it.
"Yep, Rude. Goin' somewhere. With a girl," replied Reno, idly staring at the television. A toothpaste commercial was on, starring a little boy grinning a pearly white smile. He changed the channel, and stopped on a sappy soap opera that failed to capture his interest. Nothing good ever aired on early Saturday evenings. Nearly 6:45.
"Another woman, huh, Reno?" teased the deep voice of Rude the Turk, and Reno heard him snicker. Well, Rude made him sound like a player. Damn right he was. Well… Reno was quite the womanizer, but he really specialized in one-night stands, so there wasn't much cheating to do. When was the last time he was in a serious relationship? Ah, that's right. Never.
Reno snorted. "Met her a few days ago. At Wall Market. Kinda shy, methinks, but she warms up eventually. Shrewd little thief, she is. Beautiful eyes."
He could almost hear Rude smirking on the other line. "Slum-girl? C'mon, Reno. You can do better than a poor, homeless rat. Nice looks aren't enough. She should have some kind of intelligence, or cash. Somethin' that really makes her stand out in a crowd."
"She does stand out in a crowd, Rude," countered Reno defensively, wrinkling his nose. What did Rude know about women? Hmph. "And she is not homeless. I don't think she's stupid, either. Probably just uneducated. Ya know, like I was at some point in time. There's just somethin' about her. I dunno what it is. And I don't think she's from Midgar, 'cause she's got an odd accent."
"What kind of accent?" inquired Rude. Reno rarely made acquaintances with women of his former socioeconomic status down in the slums, so this might have caught the bald Turk's interest.
"I dunno," shrugged Reno. "Like someone from…what's that town? Heimlich?"
"Nibelheim," corrected Rude.
"Nibelheim, whatever," grumbled Reno. "When I commented on her accent, she got all…quiet and distant. And nervous. She started bitin' her fingernails."
"Strange. Funny, 'cause Nibelheim burned down five years ago."
Reno's blue-green eyes widened. "Hey…you're right. I forgot that. Maybe that's why she got all weird. Thanks, Rude."
"Eh, you're welcome." Said Rude awkwardly. "Well then, have fun with that girl. What's her name?"
"Aphrodite. Aphrodite Sorrows," said Reno, and he ran a hand through his fiery-red bangs. "Gotta go now. Don't wanna be late for that train. See ya, Rude."
And with that, Reno hung up. He glanced at the diamond-shaped clock engraved with the red ShinRa logo on the wall. That ugly thing had been a company gift. It was seven o' clock already? Damn! Those trains weren't the fastest; it'd be difficult trying to meet Aphrodite. They lived far apart, separated by giant metal barriers.
Reno hopped up off the couch, and fixed his ponytail before holstering his gun (for safety, of course) and electro-mag rod. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the soap opera on television—which was in the middle of a couple passionately making out—and mashed the "OFF" button on the remote. He shut off the lights, because quite frankly, he didn't want a high electric bill, and with that, he rushed out the door of his large apartment.
(A/N: And there's Chapter 3! I hope you liked it! I'd like to know what you readers think of the story so far. Is there anything you don't like, or anything you'd like to see? Or, perhaps, anything you're curious about, or something that needs to be clarified? Don't be afraid to tell me so with a review. Thank you! -Ducky
