Chapter 34: Starting Over
When Tseng picked me up from Kalm almost a year ago and flew me to Midgar, I doubt I was what he had in mind. He'd signed up for the Elena on paper, not for the Elena in person.
He'd asked me during our flight back to Midgar why I decided to become a Turk, given the circumstances. The circumstances being my family's history with ShinRa. He was too polite to say so, but I know he thought it odd that I was signing up for a job where my life expectancy depended on how well I performed, and where most times, I would be using my body as a shield to protect the powers that be. Even if those powers that be didn't deserve protecting sometimes. Never mind those assignments that no one ever talks about. Those assignments that made the Turks notorious.
I didn't have an answer for him other than that it was something I wanted to do. I was being honest. Never mind my mom, never mind my sister—except that I wanted so badly to be better than her memory even while wondering if she was alive or dead.
So, I'd told him simply that it was something I just had wanted to do. It was what I had trained for. I attended a military academy for goodness sake. If it wasn't this, it would be something similar. A soldier. An officer. And, besides: being a Turk was always at the top of my list.
No, I didn't have a stirring proclamation about how I thought ShinRa was the rightful ruler of the known world or any other kind of bull crap, it was simply that I'd always wanted to be a Turk, and I wanted to see where it went. And I wanted to be better than my sister. I wanted to destroy the memory of her accomplishments with my own.
Tseng didn't say much else to the answer I gave him—that it was just something I wanted to do, and that it was something I'd trained for—he just frowned ever so slightly. A look that I know now was him holding his tongue.
Being a Turk isn't your average 9 to 5, and you can't just up and quit. Not typically. Not usually. It is more like a marriage, or at least the idea of it, where you're in it for the long haul, for better or for worse, for richer or for Meteorfall until you take a bullet in the face while protecting some people who sometimes don't deserve to be protected. In theory.
Everything looks better on paper.
But what now? I have a chance to leave, to start over and forget this year.
What if I say no?
But this year wasn't all bad, and it isn't even over yet. Not for a few more months.
What if I say that I'm done and this isn't where I need to be? That my mom needs me, and that I'm not a good fit here?
But that isn't true. I think I am a good fit here. It hasn't even been a year yet. A lot can change in a year. And more than that, I know I can do this.
I know Tseng was right to recruit me—I just haven't had a chance to prove it. Rufus was wrong—he just hasn't had the chance to see what I'm capable of.
I feel them all staring at me, Tseng, Reno, Rude—Rufus. His gaze, those blue eyes are so intense that I feel like he's looking through me. Into me. He probably expects it. He expects me to quit—and why shouldn't I? After what happened with us? After the fact that I was passed over time and again most of the time for any real assignments? Because of him?
Anyone in any other field would say those are good reasons to quit right now and would be totally justified. For being under-utilized and being a glorified desk jockey who is a Turk in name only. For being toyed with by their jerk of a boss, who, if they'd just left her alone, she would probably have had a much better first year on the job.
Most people would quit. My mom would be very happy with my decision to leave. Most people would hand in their gun and ID and quit right here right now.
But, I'm not most people.
And if I quit I'd never be able to face myself in the mirror.
And I don't want to quit.
I have something to prove.
"I'm staying," I say finally. I repeat again, adding "I'm not going anywhere, sir." I don't break eye contact with Rufus.
I can start over.
If he's satisfied with my answer, he doesn't even hint at it. He stares at me for a moment, not saying a word. I fight the urge to look away. Finally, he turns his gaze to Tseng.
Exhaling softly, I stare out of the window. There. That was easy.
"Well," Tseng says, breaking the pocket of silence that follows. "Now that that's out of the way, Rufus, is there anything else?"
Rufus is quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "No," he says. For a brief moment, he glances in my direction, and I meet his gaze head-on, not looking away until he does.
Tseng's voice provides a distraction. He explains to everyone what the plan is, what he's been hearing from the people we have still in Midgar. Well—the people he has still in Midgar. The former Turks. ShinRa itself is painfully disorganized right now. No one knows who to report to and surely those left behind in Midgar have a lot more on their mind other than if they should show up for work today.
He explains that we'll return to Midgar in different phases until we have completed a full sweep. The first phase will just be to gather necessities like fuel and other things that are necessary for us to function. Weapons too. And personal items. And to make sure the ShinRa building and secrets are secure. He explains that we may be needed to help out with evacuation in Midgar as well, though he's heard that Avalanche members and other volunteers are already moving forward in those efforts. Other places have their governments helping, but ShinRa is Midgar's government, and without it, people are on their own.
Tseng asks who wants to come on the first phase with him, and he says that at least one of us has to stay behind with Rufus, a comment that gets a slight frown and an almost inaudible sigh from the president.
"I'll go," I say immediately, looking to Tseng. There is no way I'm staying behind to protect Rufus. Not right now. I'm not ready to talk to him yet. Yes, maybe it is a little petty, but it is how I feel right now.
Tseng acknowledges my request with a slight, curt nod.
Reno and Rude discuss it for a moment, and Reno volunteers himself to go. Rude'll be stuck here guarding Rufus. I'm sure he'll love it.
"Great," Tseng says. "That's all, unless there's anything else you want to discuss, Rufus."
Rufus gives a slight shake of his head. He seems exhausted.
"Okay," Tseng says, satisfied. Remarkable how he can keep everything together.
I stand there for a second then turn away and head for the door. As expected, Reno and Rude catch up with me, on either side of me. I'm glad they're here.
"Glad you stayed on, Laney," Reno says, draping an arm around my shoulder. A familiar gesture I've grown fond of that comes with a pleasant whiff of a cigarette he probably smoked before I arrived. "Am I right, Rude?"
"Of course," Rude says. I feel his hand rest on my other shoulder briefly. I look over at him and smile. He gives a very slight, almost invisible smile in return.
We've reached the main library door. Rude pulls it open and holds the door for us. We step into the hall and he follows us out.
Without missing a beat, Reno's talking about how we should take a few hours to explore Kalm, to see what's what and get some different clothes. Find a good bar to unwind for a while. His demeanor is relaxed to say what we all went through the night before.
"Maybe we can hang out with Laney's mom. She can make us a home-cooked meal," Reno says jokingly, all while slipping his hands from around my shoulder and wrapping his arm around my waist instead.
"My mom would faster poison you," I say, not-quite jokingly. "She hates Turks."
Does that mean she will hate me?
"She can't hate them too much," Reno says. He doesn't continue that statement, but the implication is there. She can't hate them too much because she raised two of them. He continues, "Besides, everybody loves me, Laney. Ask Rude."
"No they don't," Rude says immediately.
"Say what?" Reno says. He has a threat in his tone, but it is completely without teeth.
"You heard me," Rude says in a similar faux-serious tone.
"Hold me back Laney," Reno says, not bothering to move from around my shoulder. Based on his tone, Rude says things like to him all the time without being serious whatsoever. "Rude, I'm gonna wax your bald head, you glorious bastard."
Rude laughs. "You're welcome to try."
I smile to myself as their threats and banter continues, but I still can't fight that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. My mom is going to hate me when I tell her that I've decided to stay.
If I tell her.
Instead of going home, I spend the rest of the day with Reno and Rude. Kalm's center is still bustling with activity, but we get around easily enough. We go to a shop and get some plainclothes even though no one seems to notice our suits at the moment. Granted, we don't quite look like Turks at the moment. We look like refugees just like everyone else.
I guess that's kind of what we are.
As the sun begins to set, we stop at a bar—the only bar in town. It isn't anything like Midgar's bars. It is a lot smaller and quaint, and the barkeep knows mostly everyone who steps in. There are a few faces he doesn't know, not including our own, and they're telling their stories to him around the bar. The way some of them are dressed, they are probably ShinRa employees but are too afraid to admit that fact.
There's a TV mounted on the wall behind the bar, it is playing the news on mute. The news is talking about relief efforts and how the rest of the world is doing. There are constant shots of Midgar and the wreckage of the ShinRa building. There is a scrolling marquee at the bottom of the screen giving instant updates to everything that is happening. There is a question of what the world's governments will do without ShinRa twisting their arm.
The way they're talking, they've already decided that ShinRa is gone. Didn't any one ever teach them to check for a pulse before declaring something dead?
"Doesn't seem real, does it," Reno asks.
He is sitting across from me, and Rude is beside him. We're in booth seats near the back of the bar. Between us is a pitcher of beer. Reno picked it out.
In response to Reno, I shake my head. "We almost died yesterday. Can you believe it?"
"Eh, you get used to it," Reno says, glancing over at the TV. "This'll be fun."
"How?" I ask, even though I know he didn't mean it that way. That it would actually be a good time.
Reno doesn't answer me, he just takes a swig of his drink. Just a couple of glasses today—we can't be hung over tomorrow morning.
My phone buzzes on the table, vibrating across the wood surface. I glance at the screen. It's my mom. I don't remember giving her the number to this phone. I stare at it for a second until it stops buzzing and goes silent.
"Who was that?" Reno asks.
"Aren't you nosy?"
"I just wanna know, Laney," he says in a not-so-innocent voice.
The phone rings again, vibrating and dancing across the table. Reno grabs it before I can get a grip on it. I reach over the table at him, but he dodges me, moving over in Rude's direction and expertly avoiding me.
"Hold on lemme just..." Reno gets both of my hands and plants them on the table beneath his. In those few seconds, he also answers the phone with his free hand. "Hello?"
Oh my gosh.
"May I ask who is calling?" Reno asks in a terrible, high pitched not-quite-feminine-sounding voice. "You have reached the Midgar Pleasure Shoppe. How may I pleasure you today?"
"RENO!"
Rude is too busy being amused to help me out on this one. He's leaned over on the table, laughing silently, barely keeping it together.
"Ahh I am sorry, you're looking for Elena? There is no Elena here, there is an Edna though. Shall I patch you through to our dungeon master?"
"Reno!" I hiss, getting my hands free and reaching for him. He slides out of my reach once again.
"I'm sorry miss, my name is Renae," Reno says in that high-pitched voice. "I promise, this is the Midgar Pleasure Shoppe hotline number. There has never been an Elena with short blonde hair and brown eyes working here," Reno says, with a completely straight face. He glances over at me, "I'm pretty sure I'd remember someone that sounds that cute. There is a Laneypuff who works here. Perhaps that is your daughter's stage name?"
Reno waits a moment, listening to my mom. "Yes madam. Yes of course madam. You take care." Reno hangs up, a smug and humored look on his face.
"I can't believe you did that!" I say, grabbing the phone from his hands.
"She's not supposed to have that number anyway," Reno says, snickering.
I want to be angry about it, but I can't. It actually is pretty funny. I think about the look that was probably on my mom's face as she listened to 'Pleasure Shoppe Renae' babble on and on. In spite of myself, a laugh escapes me. I keep laughing, almost uncontrollably until little pinpricks of tears leak from my eyes. "Oh gosh she's gonna ask me who Renae is!" I blurt out, laughing more, until my chest hurts and I can barely breathe.
Soon, we're all laughing, drawing attention to ourselves with our raucous laughter, but not caring one bit. It's funny, but maybe not that funny, but it doesn't matter because laughing is a relief, I haven't laughed like this in so long it feels like.
When it finally dies down, we're all a little flushed in the face and Reno still looks incredibly pleased with himself.
"At least I got you to laugh," Reno says with a smirk, raising his half-empty glass. "Cheers to that."
"I'll drink to that," Rude says, mirth still dancing in his melodious tone. He too lifts his glass.
"Me too. Thanks, I needed a laugh," I say raising my glass, too.
"We all do," Reno says, still amused, but his tone just a bit more sober. We clink glasses and take a sip of our respective drinks.
In the silence that comes after, I watch them for a second as they work on their drinks. Reno's gaze is on the T.V. behind me, and Rude's is focused out of the window, watching the remains of the sunset as it splashes purple, orange and blue across the Kalm sky.
Yeah, I didn't stay on because of anyone in particularly. In fact, I stayed in spite of the past several months, in spite of Rufus and in spite of how bad things got, but it is sure nice to have Reno and Rude with me. They're a great perk to staying.
"If you start crying, I'm leaving," Reno says, completely serious. I didn't realize he was now watching me. Nothing gets past him, does it?
"I'm not gonna cry."
"Good, because last night was a one moment deal." Reno regards me with an easy, little half-smile.
"Thank you," I say, feeling a little awkward. "For that, by the way. I know you hate crying people."
Reno waves me off and takes another sip of his drink. "No big deal. People do strange things at the end of the world. I wasn't myself last night or I would have slapped your face and told you to woman-up."
"What Reno means to say is," Rude pipes in, turning his face from the window and towards me, "is that he felt he needed to step up to comfort a comrade, and that he typically uses humor as a way to conceal his own emotions and the fact that, despite his best efforts, he's grown fond of you and likes having you around, as have I." At the end of Rude's speech, he takes a sip of his own drink for emphasis.
"Nobody asked you to translate for me, you mute," Reno says, nudging Rude with his elbow. "How are you gonna speak for me and you barely speak for yourself?"
"I speak when I need to," Rude says. "And when I do speak, people listen. Unlike you and your ramblings."
"You're such a bastard."
"Likewise," Rude replies. "But what are friends for, if not to be bastards to one another?"
Reno grins. "You're a piece of crap, is what you are."
"See what I mean?" Rude looks to me. "He uses humor as a defense mechanism."
"What about you and those shades, Rude?" Reno says accusingly, trying to snatch the offending shades off Rude's face in one quick motion.
Rude easily dodges. "I don't know what you're talking about. This is my actual face. I was born in these shades."
"I bet," Reno says, crossing his arms. "Elena, Rude's not the sweetheart you've told yourself he is."
"When have I ever said he's a sweetheart?" I say, laughing slightly. And then, a thought occurs to me.
"Hey Rude, wait a minute," I say, placing my glass on the table. "How long have we known each other now?"
"I'll be a year in about two and a half months," Rude says.
"Exactly, and I still haven't seen your eyes up close."
I hear Reno snicker.
"I didn't realize that was a milestone you were trying to reach," Rude says, taking a sip from his glass.
Before he can stop me, I scooch over down my side of the table and reach over and slip his sunglasses off his face. He doesn't try to slap me like he did Reno. He just lets me do it. "There, that's much better."
Rude looks at me with a raised brow, resigning himself to my scrutiny.
He has gorgeous eyes, a light brown color, like honey that are framed by thick dark lashes. And he has a great bone structure. Finally, a full picture. Gosh, he's handsome.
Why is everyone that I work with so beautiful?
"You're prettier than me. You could be a model."
Rude laughs slightly, and I feel him slip the sunglasses out of my hand. He doesn't put them back on. "I doubt that," he says.
"So why do you wear them so much? So that people won't be struck by your beauty?"
Rude smirks slightly, shaking his head at my silly comment. "I suppose everyone has their masks."
"Stop being deep, Rude," I say.
"Well it's true. For example, take yourself. At first glance, most people wouldn't expect too much from you."
"Hey!"
"He's right, Laney," Reno says. He's got his elbows resting on the table and his chin resting on his hands, regarding me in his usual, laid-back way. "As hot as you are, you look defenseless."
"Stop calling me hot, Reno. And I do not look defenseless."
"It is what it is, Laney," he says, winking. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was drunk.
I roll my eyes at him and face Rude again.
Rude continues, ignoring Reno. "I don't mean it as an insult. You just have a very innocent demeanor and face."
"Well, blame my mom for that," I say lightly. I'm not sure how to feel about being told that I look like a punching bag.
"I'll send her my regards," Rude chuckles, smiling slightly. I should have Reno melt his glasses down. All of them. "The point is, everyone has a mask. Just so happens that people tend to underestimate you. No one would expect that you could lay them out without really trying to or that you're as cunning as you want to be. When you want to be."
Not cunning enough.
"Aww Rude. Thanks. Handsome and philosophical. Is there anything you're not good at?"
Rude chuckles, his voice a rich, deep pleasant sound. "I think you're drunk."
"Buzzed. I'm buzzed. But at least you're talking more. Maybe you're the drunk one." It's true. There is that familiar warmth behind my eyes, making me feel a lot more giggly and talkative than usual—how much more can I talk?
"Why do you wear them all the time anyway? Surely you can use it as a battle technique to have enemies be struck by your beauty," I say.
"I think you've had one too many, Elena," Rude says, seriously, but I can tell he's amused by the inflection in his tone.
"Really, why do you wear them all the time?" I say placing my hands on his. "Tell me."
Rude slides his hands from beneath mine. "To avoid sexual harassment," he says in a deadpan voice.
"Even inside? Even at night?" I ask, gesturing towards the window. The sun is mostly gone and the sky is turning dark.
"Yes. I have an astigmatism and near-sightedness," Rude says completely straight-faced.
"You're lying to me!"
"He's full of it, Elena, I told you he's not as nice as you think he is," Reno says, regarding me and Rude with an oddly-pleased look on his face.
"I'm just used to them, Elena," Rude chuckles.
"He wears them because he doesn't like people to remember that he used to strip before becoming a Turk. He was very well known in the Midgar underground. They called him Chocolate Thunder," Reno says, straight-faced.
Rude shakes his head at the ridiculousness of Reno's words and puts his face in the palm of his hands for a moment. "Why do I deal with you?"
"Because you love me," Reno says.
"In theory," comes Rude's reply.
"Now who's using humor as a defense mechanism," Reno says, managing to land a punch on Rude's shoulder.
"That's your M.O. not mine. I'm not using anything," Rude says, punching Reno in return, and much harder.
"Dammit," Reno says, grimacing and rubbing his shoulder. "You hit like a 900-pound bear."
Rude smirks, a little smugly, and returns his dark shades to his face, completing the Rude-We-Know-And-Love image.
"You two," I say, unable to fight the big-toothy grin spreading across my face. I've never been one for making friends. Not because I didn't want to, but because, it was never really that easy for me to make really good friends. But, I'd like to think we're friends. Yeah, we've only known each other almost a year, but time doesn't really make a relationship, right? Not really? It is what happens during that space of time that matters? "I think I love you guys," I blurt out before I can stop myself.
"Dammit, Laney," Reno grimaces. "Why do you have to say something like that?"
Rude regards me with a slight smile. "Ignore him, he's sober."
Our banter continues as the pitcher of beer disappears, Reno and Rude taking down most of it without showing much difference in their behavior. I offer up another toast as the night dies down.
"For what?" Reno asks, picking up his glass.
"To tomorrow," I say, holding up mine, "and to starting over."
"I'll drink to that, too," Rude says, raising his glass.
We leave the bar when it gets late and Kalm starts to shut down. This isn't Midgar, so the city doesn't stay open past 9 p.m. We part ways, even though I really don't want to leave them and have to deal with my mom.
When I get back to Mom's house, the door is locked, and I don't have the new keys. I'd done everything in my power not to return straight home, not wanting to face her. What am I going to tell her? Tell her I decided to go shopping on the day after we almost died?
Why not. All of my clothes are in Midgar.
I knock on the door once, twice, three times. The fourth time, she answers it, looking frazzled. There are red circles around her eyes and her cheeks are flushed. She's also holding an open can of tuna. She draws me into a hug, squeezing me tight and filling my senses with the essence of her. Her perfume, the scent of her washing detergent, the pleasant firmness of her hugs.
She pulls away and asks: "Who in the hell is Renae?"
It takes everything in my power not to burst into laughter. "I dunno, I put my phone down for like two seconds and some dumb red-haired kid took it and started playing on it, sorry."
Mom laughs slightly but there's something off about it. "Where were you?"
"Out walking. Went shopping for some stuff." It is disturbing how easily I can lie to her.
If Mom knows I'm lying, she doesn't hint at it. She just heads into the living room, talking over her shoulder. "Did you see how many Midgar refugees are out there? There isn't enough room, people are taking some into their homes. They're considering using that villa on the north end for shelter, asking the owners about it as soon as they find out who owns it. Anyway," she says, waving that off. I can't help but smile slightly as she changes subjects mid-sentence. Reminds me of someone I know. Oh, right. Me. "What did you buy?"
I look down at my bags. "Just some comfortable jeans and t-shirts. All black and grey. Boring. Oh, and that's a no go with that villa."
"How come?" Mom asks, taking my bags from me and opening them, pulling out the contents.
I wait for a moment, hoping she'll get distracted by my clothes and won't ask again. She doesn't forget. "Who owns it?"
"ShinRa owns it," I say, trying to sound as careless as possible.
"Ohh. How do you know that?" Mom asks, putting the clothes back in the shopping bag.
With a shrug I say, "I worked for ShinRa. Of course I'd know that." Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth, either. "And trying to break in it wouldn't be a good idea," I add lightly, just in case she gossips about it. Don't need anyone showing up at the villa unannounced.
"Right," my mom says, her tone tight. She places the bags on the couch and picks up the can of tuna again and wanders into the kitchen. I follow her in to see the Ru, the small yellow and white kitten, mewling and circling mom's legs.
Mom maneuvers around Chloe's desperate begging and dumps tuna onto a plate and tells me to pick the kitten up. I scoop the little fur-ball up and place her on the counter, holding her in place. The kitten looks at me and wobbles up to my hand, feverishly pressing its cold, wet nose against my hand and taking in sharp little breaths. When it's done, it looks up at me with wide-eyed approval. Its eyes a big, bright blue. The crazy thought of Rufus as a cat comes to mind.
"Another cat, mom?" At this, Chloe mewls up at me revealing a set of tiny sharp teeth.
"Well, I needed the company."
"Yeah…."
She's watching Chloe for a moment. I watch her and I take in her features, trying to commit them to memory. She glances up, catching my gaze. I have to tell her, eventually, don't I? Rufus can't stay in Kalm forever, which means I can't either.
"Something wrong?" Mom asks.
"Nope," I say. Another lie.
Mom makes tea with her tea maker, and we sit on the couch drinking it. The kitten climbs up on the couch and sits on mom's lap. We don't say much, just enjoy one another's company. Mom tells me more about her neighbors, and I listen.
"Mom?" I say, cutting her off mid-sentence while she's telling me about something trivial that happened in Kalm a few weeks ago.
"Hmm?" Mom asks. Her eyes look a little heavy, but I'm still quite wired, my buzz from drinking with the guys wearing off.
"I'm sorry you know? For not calling," I say, sincerely. "For making you worry."
Mom stares at me for a moment, and she bites her lip. "Well, you're here now."
Right.
"Why don't you go on to bed," I say, looking away.
She doesn't argue that she's not sleepy, instead she leans over and gives me a tight hug and a kiss before heading off. She scoops up the cat and carries her off with her.
I pass my hand across my face, inhaling deeply. "One more secret on top of another, Elena?" I mutter to myself. I reach over and grab the remote and turn off the lamps, putting myself in the dark, turning on the television, effectively letting the world in.
-oooo-
1 A.M.
I sit up on the couch. My head hurts—a dull pain from sleep deprivation. My dreams were frantic. I shake the thoughts from my head and throw off the covers to go take a shower.
I change into one of the plain black t-shirts I purchased and a pair of dark, straight-legged jeans and my work boots. I strap on my gun, hiding it under my Turk blazer. Halfway to the door, I stop and go to the guest room where I know there is stationary on the dresser. I rip off a sheet of paper and get the pen and scribble a note.
Went out. Be back later. Don't worry about me. Love you.
"I'm a terrible daughter," I mutter to myself even as I leave the note on the kitchen table. I creep to the front door, slipping it open and locking the door behind me going out into the crisp, pleasant morning air.
The sky already has that light blue hue of a slowly rising sun, and yet the moon is still visible too. I cross through the quiet, empty streets of Kalm and go up the path towards the villa.
When I make it to the villa, Tseng's waiting near the chopper, he's got two foam cups of coffee in his hand, one of them he's sipping from. He looks up as I approach and raises one of the cups in greeting. When I reach him, he hands me the other one.
"Oh wow," I say, "What is this for?"
"I can't give you coffee?" Tseng says with a slight, barely-there smile.
"Well, I mean, sure," I say, wrapping my hands around the warm container.
"How are you this morning?" Tseng asks.
A loaded question. I look at him, not sure how to respond; he watches me from the corner of his eye before taking another sip of coffee.
"Eh, I'm OK," I say finally, taking a sip of coffee. It is warm, rich and pleasant going down. "Where'd you get this?"
"A little coffee shop in Kalm. For all the money in the world, the ShinRa's cabinets are devoid of coffee."
"Hah! That's rich."
"'Rich' being the operative term here, indeed," Tseng says sarcastically, taking another sip. Then, he turns towards me, looking at me seriously. "It is good to have you with us, Elena."
"Oh..um..." I say, shifting from foot to foot, not sure of what to do. I want to hug him, I want to hug the crap out of him, but I fight the urge and stand there with my hands at my sides in tight little fists. And then there's still that awful little twinge whenever he looks directly at me. "Thank you, sir. You too."
Tseng raises a brow slightly with a slight upward curve in his lips. "We all have our reasons, you know."
"Sir?"
"Our reasons for being Turks. And for continuing to be."
"I understand, sir," I say automatically, not really understanding.
"You will," Tseng says. Yes. That totally makes sense.
"Welp," I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "Where's Reno?"
Almost on cue, Reno appears, walking up behind us with a casual gait. He's holding a foam cup of coffee too. "I interrupt something? I can leave and come back in like five minutes, maybe ten or even twenty if that's how you want it," Reno says, looking between us.
I make a face at Reno, and in response he wiggles his brows.
"You don't stop, do you Reno?" Tseng says flatly.
"I'm nothing, if not consistent," Reno replies in his lazy, unaffected way, taking a sip of his coffee to bring home his point. "Elena knows how it is."
"I don't think I do," I say, adopting the blank look on Tseng's face. Reno winks and I roll my eyes.
"Let's go," Tseng says flatly, "It is going to be a long day."
"I'll pilot" Reno says, and then he goes around the helicopter to the left side.
"You can co-pilot," Tseng says to me. "Let's go see what mess we've left behind."
And so, we pile into the helicopter, put on our headsets, and make our way back to Midgar.
As the helicopter takes to the skies, I stare ahead at the expanse of sky around us. What is Midgar going to be like when we get there? Will we ever be able to return to Midgar? Can you return to things that are so utterly destroyed? Would you even want to?
So far as I can tell, that never happens—not with places, and not with people. If it is completely wrecked, there's nothing you can do. You just pick up the pieces and keep moving on and sometimes you fall into exactly what you needed in the first place.
I guess.
But what do I know?