A/N: -Waves sheepishly- Hello...remember me? This is an awfully late update, but it's here now so your waiting's finished! And in my absence from this fic, 41 reviews! Thank you so much everyone! You're the greatest! -dances-
The plot unfolds in this chapter, I'm glad I thought of one or else this'd be a fic with nothing much going on. Just as a side note, Lorna and Marshal are my OC Turks from my other fic.
Note: Just to say a big thank you to 343 Guilty Spark for being the beta reader for this fic:)
Disclaimer: Characters are all copyright to Square-Enix. -sigh- Except! My OCs Lorna and Marshal - they're mine, but you don't want them anyway :)
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Ameagari: After the Rain
Chapter 3: Turkish Delight
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It was astonishing how Yazoo could feel intimidated by his twelve year old brother. It was arguable though that Kadaj was more than a moody youngster. The whole of the Grape Vine had noticed it. People looked away from their games of pool or darts; the waitress stropped midway of serving drinks.
To the casual eye, Kadaj would seem like an innocent youth with the scuffed trainers, hooded jacket and woolly hat. But those impressions could be dashed simply by looking at the green orbs behind the silvery fringe. Kadaj had always had the talent to glare, but Yazoo swore it had strengthened over the years.
Loz was the one who broke the silence.
"So uh…where's Souba, Kadaj?"
He was ignored. Instead, the youngest crossed the room to Yazoo, stumbling over a frayed rug as he went. A middle-aged man coughed lightly and resumed his game of darts. The usual bustle of the pub returned hesitantly. The group of girls started gossiping again; Kirk ordered another pint. Kadaj wiped under his nose before speaking.
"I never want to do anything like that ever again, you hear me?"
Yazoo nodded dumbly. He had no idea what Kadaj was talking about, but thankfully, he elaborated.
"Next time I go anywhere, you two can come with me instead of slacking off! I nearly got lost, and some car-thingy almost ran me over!" Yazoo saw Loz cringe out the corner of his eye. Kadaj wasn't done yet; he grabbed hold of the bottom of Yazoo's shirt aggressively. "And I've decided when I was coming back here, that I don't want to listen to you ever again! Ever!"
The insecurity and desire for attention had awoken in Kadaj once again, Yazoo observed. It was coming more and more often. People were beginning to look again at the sound of Kadaj's rising voice. Loz took the initiative and steered Kadaj out of the pub by the shoulder. Yazoo quickly took some gil out from his pocket, putting it on the table, next to his unfinished coffee, before heading for the door as well. He could hear Kadaj still rambling on.
Yazoo raked his hair in thought. Was Kadaj really that upset that he was by himself? Surely there had to be more than that. Yazoo had genuinely thought Kadaj would have liked a bit of freedom. Perhaps he was a bit too patronising.
Loz's initial question of where Souba was was answered when Yazoo left the pub. He stepped out just in time to see Kadaj kick a long black box across the pavement with intended force. It rolled off the kerb onto the side of the road, unwanted.
"Leave that thing Loz, I don't want it," Kadaj breathed as he glared at them both in turn.
Loz stopped reaching out for the box. Yazoo looked away. So that was it. Kadaj was offended because Souba didn't suit his tastes. It was typical for Kadaj to become so incensed about such a little thing.
"That's right," Kadaj hissed. He seemed to have noticed Yazoo was hurt. "I hate that thing. I'd much rather use a kitchen fork than that…thing. I hate it. I said leave it! Listen to me!"
Loz had picked up Souba's box. Yazoo stared at him. Surely the eldest knew the best way to solve these arguments was to let Kadaj have his way. But his grip was firm on the box.
"Listen to me!" Kadaj shrieked again.
Yazoo almost covered his ears with his hands. Kadaj's face was red, and it was clear to the eye that Loz would start his waterworks any moment.
"No, Kadaj, listen to me." Loz spoke with audible effort that tried to disguise the nervousness in his voice. "If you want to be angry with someone, that ought to be me. I didn't buy you anything. I know Souba disappointed you, but carry on with that ungrateful attitude towards Yazoo, and I'll deck you."
It wasn't much of a threat at all, but Yazoo was inwardly grateful Loz had said it. It was all rather surprising. Kadaj seemed to think so too, since he had made no retort. Loz bent down to tie one of his shoelaces, evading eye contact with either of his brothers. Souba's box rested at his side. In Yazoo's experience, an avoidant position like that usually meant Loz was crying. Sure enough, as Yazoo bent down at his side, there were the telltale round splotches on the pavement, slightly darker than the drying spots of afternoon rain.
"Nii…I mean, Loz?" Yazoo shook his shoulder.
"S'okay." Loz gave him a watery smile. "I was tying my shoelace."
"Okay." Yazoo decided not to press with the shoelace matter (which had never been untied in the first place). He noticed Kadaj had moved to sit on a bricked wall sullenly. After a few moments, Yazoo chose to join him. Loz sat on the far end of the wall, turned away. He was probably still rather embarrassed, surprised even, by his uncharacteristic outburst, Yazoo assumed. He also realised Kirk and a few of his friends were peering out of the pub window at them, and suppressed his urge to draw Velvet Nightmare.
"Give it here," Kadaj muttered suddenly. He pulled Souba away from Loz's lap, and held the box to his chest so possessively, his knuckles were white. Yazoo felt his gaze on him, and met Kadaj's eyes. It was clear the youngest had been affected somewhat by Loz's words. He looked awkward and very lightly, punched Yazoo's arm.
"…It's alright. I'll…keep it after all. It's just…" He shifted, disconcerted. "It's just that I thought maybe…I'd get a gun like yours."
"You don't want to copy me," Yazoo replied.
"Loz does."
"You know that's not true." Yazoo smiled weakly, watching as Loz blew his nose, hiding his tearful face from his brothers. Kadaj was silent for a minute, before muttering, "Say, niisan, what does 'motley' mean?"
Yazoo looked up from his shirt sleeve. "In what context? It usually means an assortment of things or people that don't seem to belong together."
Kadaj shrugged. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. "At the shop, she was going on about us being motley or something. Least, that's what I think she said, she had a bit too much gum in her mouth."
"She?" Yazoo repeated. Since when had Mr Frest been a woman? Then he did a double take. A woman chewing gum? "Kadaj, was a man with her?"
"Yeah."
Yazoo stood up straight, getting off the wall. "Loz, we're going."
The eldest was still sniffing. Yazoo couldn't help but laugh, mainly from exasperation. "Are you still crying? The argument wasn't even directed at you."
"So? That doesn't mean I like them."
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The three reached Frest's Weaponry store in a matter of minutes. They only stopped to stroke a stray cat when Kadaj found it lurking behind a milk crate. Frest's store was as untidy as ever, with forms littered around the counter, boxes of cartridges piled up on a windowsill and cracked glass display cases. To Yazoo's dismay, it was not Frest sat at the counter, but two faces he had seen four years ago. Loz seemed to recognise them as well since he had stumbled backwards instinctively, but Kadaj, who was only eight at the time, had evidently forgotten them.
Marshal was lighting a cigarette with gloved hands. His blazer looked as though it hadn't seen the dry cleaners for a good few months. It was crinkled at the elbows, and one of the lapels was at an odd angle.
Lorna's uniform was still crisp; several gum wrappers were scattered where her feet rested on the counter. There was a strong smell of peppermint around her. On closer inspection, Yazoo could see that her sharp looking features had been tainted somewhat. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and her forehead was creased with lines. Perhaps the job of being a Turk had finally taken its toll. Nevertheless, as she greeted them, there was still that businesslike tone.
"See, Marshal? I told you they'd come along. They don't seem to be afraid of us anymore." She looked at Yazoo the longest. "I suppose you don't remember us."
"You know them?" Kadaj asked incredulously.
"Don't look so surprised. We're Turks. We were originally assigned to help you guys before you ran away." Marshal tossed his cigarette into an overflowing bin. "Though we scared off Frest when we told him Hojo wants to arrange a meeting with him, our mission has otherwise gone very smoothly. So let's not ruin that. We have some nice news to tell you."
"Have you found our Mother?"
Yazoo almost smiled at Kadaj's hopeful suggestion, but he knew that that would never be the case.
"What?" Marshal replied. "I was being sarcastic when I said nice. Here, take a look at this."
He tossed a newspaper onto the counter. Loz got there first, taking the sheets and studying them with very little interest. Yazoo too, was finding it difficult to not plummet into one of his daydreams again, but that was before Loz made an odd noise between a cough and a laugh, and passed the paper to him.
"Let me look." Kadaj pulled on Yazoo's elbow, and he complied. He swore the room had all of a sudden grown colder. The headline of the newspaper…Yazoo definitely wasn't reading it wrong…
"Yazoo?" Loz cast a tentative look at him, but Yazoo couldn't think of an answer. According to the newspaper, something terrible had happened…Sephiroth had died…
"We're sorry for your loss." Lorna spoke with very little remorse in her voice, fingers unwrapping her umpteenth stick of chewing gum.
Loz and Yazoo exchanged looks, mirroring confusion and fear. It seemed so stupid that moments ago, they had been fighting about a sword, when matters like these were around. However, to their surprise, and to the Turks' undoubtedly, Kadaj had burst out laughing.
"Sephiroth's dead? You came here to tell me that?" He threw the newspaper onto the floor. "If Sephiroth's dead, I would know. He lives in me."
"Great, looks like he has been brainwashed by Hojo," Marshal muttered out the corner of his mouth. He turned back to Kadaj. "See, kid, as much as you admire him, he doesn't need your permission before he snuffs it."
Lorna straightened her tie absently. "Though we can't go too much into detail, it's been confirmed that he is dead. Whether you believe it or not isn't important."
"Then what is?" Loz crossed his arms. "You've waited for all three of us to see you, there must be something more than telling us that…that…"
"Sephiroth's apparently dead." Kadaj completed his sentence for him, rolling his eyes. One foot nudged the newspaper carelessly. "I mean, judging by your IDs, you work for ShinRa. And ShinRa owns the newspapers. You could write anything. It's all a lie, that stuff about Sephiroth. I know it."
Loz nodded in agreement; he seemed to be casting away his doubts by doing so. A confident look crossed his face. Yazoo wished he could be reassured that easily. He bent down and picked up the newspaper, checking the date. Kadaj noticed what he was doing, and grinned smugly.
"See, Sephiroth's been dead for a week, according to this. So how come, over this week, I haven't felt any different?"
"Because," Lorna said. The sigh escaping from her lips further added to her patronising attitude. "You're not Sephiroth, are you? Even if you do 'sense' him, as Hojo calls it, that doesn't mean you know everything about him. For your information, Sephiroth doesn't even know a cocky brat like you actually exists in this world, if 'exist' is the right term for you."
This struck a nerve in all three brothers. Kadaj clenched his fists, teeth bared. Yazoo made a move forward, but Loz had got in front of him, banging a strong fist onto the counter.
"Talk about my brother like that again, and we'll have to take it outside."
"We won't even need to go outside." Yazoo spoke at last, attempting to keep his voice level. He could feel anger boiling inside of him; how dare that woman say something so rude to Kadaj…he'd teach her, he wasn't a lost little boy anymore…
"My, aren't you touchy," Lorna replied dryly. "That small dig of mine was nothing compared to what's written in here."
Her legs swung off the counter, nearly hitting Marshal. She picked up three files, all ready to burst with the amount of paper in them.
"Here's the reason why we came." She dumped a file in Yazoo's arms, doing the equivalent to Loz and Kadaj. The peeling label on the front of Yazoo's file read '2-4-A'. He was rather revolted that a whole file was dedicated to him and his progress as a specimen, and refrained from opening it.
"Forgive me if I got your labels wrong." Lorna shrugged indifferently, resuming her seat with legs propped up. "Those files are your life summed up. They're to be returned to their rightful owners."
"Rightful?" Loz looked up from his open file. "What's that meant to mean?"
"Hojo's dismissed you," Marshal said simply. "The death of Sephiroth has struck up a lot of questions, particularly with his research, and his budget isn't big enough to fund new research as well as old ones. Since no one wants to continue Hojo's research on Projects Loz, Yazoo and Kadaj, you're free to go."
"We were free to start off with," Kadaj spat. His file was also open, and suddenly fearing what might be inside of it, Yazoo took it from the youngest brother's arms and stacked it on top of his file. Loz closed his file, giving Yazoo a guilty look – he could never quite control his curiosity.
"Technically, you were all ShinRa property," said Lorna, "but due to circumstances, this has changed, for everyone's benefit. Hojo has new specimens to get on with, Marshal and I don't have to write progress reports about you, and you three will never have to set foot in the labs again."
"And what about Sephiroth?" Loz demanded. "Everything hasn't quite worked out for him has it? Where did all that happen? Where was he when he died?"
"Why don't you ask your little brother there?" Marshal answered smoothly. "He seems to know everything about Sephiroth."
For the second time, Yazoo lunged forwards. He was not going let them insult Kadaj anymore, not his little brother…
"Nibelheim." Kadaj looked up from under his hat. "Right?"
Yazoo stopped halfway through his lunge, and Loz caught his arm promptly. Marshal's smirk slid off his face, and Lorna's feet fell from the edge of the counter to hit the ground with a dull thud.
"Nibelheim?" Marshal laughed, but it was a fraction too late. "Nice guess, kid, but that's what it was. A guess."
Yazoo looked at Loz next to him; the eldest's eyes were wide and questioning. He seemed to be caught between believing Marshal or Kadaj. Yazoo frowned. Loz still had a grip on his arm.
There was no mention of Nibelheim in the article; Yazoo didn't even know such a place existed. Had Kadaj made it up? Or were the flashes of Sephiroth now fully awake and conscious, feeding out snippets of helpful information, guiding them.
"Loz," Yazoo murmured. "Let go of my arm, it hurts."
Loz did so straight away, cringing. "Sorry."
Kadaj treated Marshal to one of his childish looks of contempt. "Anything else to say?"
Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door, beckoning for Yazoo and Loz to follow with a hand and a reassuring smile.
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A/N: Yeah, I decided to stick in the Nibelheim incident because their ages corresponded with it. As always, please be kind and leave a review, it'll only take you seconds! I adore them!