Disclaimer: I, Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-, do not own, think I own, or will ever own Final Fantasy VII or its Compilations. I write this because it's fun and I have no life—the end.


Chapter Forty Eight: Rio

"That wasn't what I was talking about, Reno. I mean it: have you ever been with another guy?"

"Naw—"

Lovers are liars. You should know that the best, right?

"Just tell me if you have been with another," he whispered. The voice was silky smooth, a treasure of the Planet. "I just want the truth, and it won't matter to me. I promise."

"No, I have not been with another man."

"Not even our closest friend? Our beautiful, broken friend?"

"Never."

He was a liar, too. Zack, you know who, don't you? Between the kisses and fucks, there was something under the surface.

"This isn't right," the teenager whispered, clinging harder to Reno's stomach, his ear resting against the red-head's chest, listening to the beating of his heart. "We shouldn't be together, lovers. You and I, we're too close; too, too close."


"Shh, everything'll be a-okay."

You don't understand, little one, puppy. Everything isn't what it seems.

Their bodies were melted together, the hot musk of passion surrounding them. It didn't matter if it was forbidden, that their promises were slaughtered in the heat of the morning. This was something that nothing could hold back—something that was needed. He was broken, and the other had to fix it, had to try.

The silver-haired man wished, however, that the arms surrounding his body, the body he was making love to, was another. One more fragile, with a beautiful kimono wrapped around their legs, a sweet smell of the sakura blooms and royalty engulfing them. A lithe body, one with large smoky eyes and the tell-tale sign of virginity and innocence.

One that he had taken.

He wanted it back, the love, the passion, but the body he was inside wasn't right. Too much muscle and not enough baby-fat. The eyes, dark blue like the sea, weren't the right ones.

They weren't like the roaring sky.

Innocence is beautiful, don't you think? Like our friend, who has his arms wrapped around you. He's beautiful, isn't he? You want to touch him, to make love to him, to wipe all of those feelings of regret and remorse away, don't you? Zack, I know what you want.

But how? How?

Because I am you. Wake up and see the new day.


There were two hands around Zack's waist and a forehead against his shoulder. There was also something wet seeping through his shirt, and after blinking twice, Zack could see that Cloud had drooled over his shoulder.

"That's gross," the ex-SOLDIER murmured as he wiped his hand against his eyes and wiggled in the bed, hoping that his movement would wake the blonde slobbering teenager that had camped out next to him. "Come on, wake up," he grumbled.

No answer came.

After two minutes of pushing at the blonde to either let go of him or wake with no response, Zack laid back against the bed and sighed. Cloud's arms were like chains around him. Warm as they were, Zack couldn't help but feel a little bit uncomfortable. After Aeris's words, what was he supposed to think? Why had she left him with nothing but a name?

Cloud snored lightly, a thin noise that Zack nearly ignored, thinking it was just the wind against his ear. What importance did Cloud have in the entire situation? Why had Aeris spoken of him? Why did she have to leave more than one question unanswered, a rock unturned, without giving so much as a good clue? Why had she needed to leave with such ambiguity?

Why did she leave him?

Zack sniffled, holding himself around the waist with his own hands, folding on top of Cloud's. He remembered. Last night, with the fireworks dancing above their heads, the water as imposing as a storm promising destruction in its wake, Aeris had left him there. Waiting. Crying. Breaking.

I don't want to start that up again, Zack thought as he wiped his face on the pillow residing below his head. Cloud has seen him cry; nothing could have stopped the rush of tears, the pounding and breaking of his heart. But Aeris had said things, some which didn't make any sense. Questions and more questions, that was all that was left of their romance. Six years. Six years of love, five years of captivity and worry, one year of togetherness, and one night to destroy everything.

The white dress in her closet wouldn't mean anything, anymore. The folds would crisp with age, the coloring, so pure white as Cloud had described, would turn yellow with time, and the small blue flowers would wilt into ash.

Tears were on his face, dribbling down into his hair. There was nothing he could do.

"Cloud?" Zack asked, turning his head a little to the side. The boy had made a sound, and Zack thought that perhaps he had begun to wake. "I don't know what's going on, Cloudy-boy. Everything happened so fast, like a flash and the entire world was different. She left me, you know. Aeris told me last night that she didn't want to be with me anymore. Guess I haven't been a good boyfriend, eh?"

No response came, but now Zack understood the beauty of silence. There was no judgment—just quiet acceptance.

"She said that fate didn't want us to be together," he snorted. "What kind of fate doesn't want people to be happy? Shouldn't that be what every fate wants? Babies and marriage and happiness? Why doesn't anything good ever happen to me?"

Zack nearly fell out of bed when the arms around him shifted and Cloud groggily answered, moving his face from the wet spot on the shirt. "She left you?" his voice was incredulous, tingles with something Zack couldn't understand. Hope? "Did you think that maybe there are good things happening, but you just can't understand them right now?"

"What good will come from getting left behind, Cloud? You've never had a relationship, have you?"

"You know what?" the warm arms untangled and Cloud slipped from the bed. His voice held ice. "No, I haven't been with anyone. You're laying here blubbering about how sad you are, and I even let you cry on me! I'm trying to help here, and you just don't want help. You want to hear yourself crying because you think it'll help; it won't, Zack."

Zack noticed Cloud's nostrils flaring, the anger that pulsed off him in waves. He was too young to understand, too alone to feel what he felt. And Aeris, she said that Cloud loved too much and loved him... was is even true? Why would Cloud love him, an ex-SOLDIER with a girlfriend and a personality fit for a child.

Nothing was making sense, and Zack could feel his head spinning around in circles. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you understand."

"I understand better than you do, Zack. You need to accept it; the two of you weren't meant to be together in the end. Zack," Cloud leaned back onto the bed and put his hand on his wet, saliva-soaked shoulder, "you can't sit here and mourn. We have to go. Life isn't supposed to be spent moping, especially when the two of us need to get moving."

"But, still..."

Cloud put his left hand over the ebony-haired man's mouth. "Shut up, Zack. Just listen to me; now isn't the time for this. We already took a day off, and you just need to let it sink into your head. This may be just a panic excuse—you haven't talked to her today, have you?"

"No," Zack said. They had spoken last night, and that was that. He didn't expect anything else to be said about the situation. It had happened and that was that. Wasn't that what Cloud meant?

"Well..." The blonde shook his head wearily. His blue eyes seemed to be tired; it didn't suit him. Cloud wasn't supposed to mope. He was supposed to be cheerful, more cheerful than himself at the moment. No one had broken up with him. "Then you don't know if she's changed her mind, now do you? Get up, get dressed, and make yourself look presentable. Your breath reeks, by the way."

Zack lifted his hand to his mouth and breathed into it. Cloud was right.

"And I'll go see if everyone else is up."

Cloud left him there, in the hotel room, with nothing to go off of. Aeris had been wrong, hadn't she?


Zack mourned for the lack of a holiday. Already a few miles away from the city, the hot sun beating down on everyone (even if he himself couldn't feel the fluctuation of the weather), he already wanted to be back on the beach, one which didn't house an insane scientist, preferably.

Barret had taken up the spot next to Zack, nudging him with his gunarm every mile or so, pointing out toward a pack of wolves or a magical bird with talons the size of the Buster Sword. Nothing had attacked yet; it confused the black man, who had never seen monsters act so peculiar.

"Look," Zack laid his hand on his pikes, ruffling them. "That's the fourth Grangalan that's passed us without bothering to attack. Just give it up, Barret. Chalk it up to the heat—they don't want trouble and I don't want to start any. Agreed?"

The two had lagged behind the rest of the party, Red out scouting a few yards in front. Now, however, the beast's red hair and fire tail shimmered in the distance, a pinprick in the scorching heat and the green trails. The group decided to stick away from the roads; the Turks were on the lookout, as well as Hojo. It was easier to trek across molten lava than go back to the Nibelheim labs. It was so cold there that even Zack could feel it.

"You's jus' don't wanna fight cuz' you an' Aeris are fightin'," Barret said. He switched the safety back on. "Oh yeah," he answered Zack's unasked question—he imagined that his face had said al lthat was needed. "I know 'bout it. Aeris ain't all buttery and you's lookin' like you need ta kill sumthin'. I'm right, righ'?"

Zack caught himself before he nodded and crunched his hands together. Now that Barret had mentioned it, Zack did want to do something, break something, scream something obscene and not a person would say anything. But life didn't work like that, and nothing would happen. There was no option but to suck it up and look out into the world. He couldn't complain, couldn't scream, couldn't anything. This was something that went further than anyone could even begin to understand. What was Zack going to do after getting rid of Sephiroth? Die, become a martyr? He didn't want that; he needed to live, to keep his promises. Even if those who he had made the promises didn't want them, he would keep them. Zack was a hero, wanted to be a hero. Heroes always ended up alone, in the end.

"That's a confusing statement. If I was fighting with Aeris, which I'm not, wouldn't I want to fight to get out frustration? That's where you're wrong about me, Barret. You just don't get me."

But he did get him, Zack knew, so he denied it. There wasn't any point or reason For Barret to understand.

"Oh yeah, I've been wanting to ask you something, and I keep forgetting," Zack took a few steps forward and motioned for Barret to follow. "We need to hurry up before they completely lose track of us," the ex-SOLDIER stated as he made a sweeping motion.

"Whut's you wanna ask me?" Barret questioned, his eyes narrowing.

Zack shrugged. "Was about Marlene."

If Barret's face could have paled, it would have. "Whut 'bout her?"

"Well," Zack picked at his nails, "did you kidnap her? Pick her up off of the streets? Or does she have a skin condition?"

"She's mah daughter and that's it. Don't ask me shi' like that. That's my baby. And you keep Chocobo-head away from her, got it?"

"Huh? What did Cloud do?"

Barret mumbled something under his breath. When Zack asked for him to repeat whatever it was, the man shot him a dirty look. "She thinks she's gunna marry him."

Zack nearly swallowed his tongue. "Like that freaking girl in Junon?"

"Mah Marlene's prettier than that fisherman's daughter. She got a chance, but that don't mean that I want that ta happen."

"He's twenty one, you know. I don't think he'd want your daughter, no matter how pretty she is and will become." Zack was barely able to hold in his tears of mirth. For the first time in twenty-four hour Zack had a good reason to laugh. And he did.


Zack didn't know where they were. There was a river, deep as Cloud's eyes running to the left, while on the right there was more space, empty and led to nothing but more emptiness.

"I guess we just keep following the river." Zack wiped his hands on his pants, which were dripping from the fresh water. It tasted like bliss on his parched tongue, clean and sharp. He had chlorine tablets but decided not to ruin the taste. Bacteria be damned-- they were all so very thirsty, and there was no better or cleaner water for miles.

"Is there a town around here?" Tifa asked as she wiped a bit of water from her brow. Her face was tanning, something that made her skin seem to glow. She looked happy.

"No clue; I think so, but I could be wrong," the ex-SOLDIER said, looking around. "There's a good chance of it. Water, fertile land and food supplies. I'd probably say for sure, except for the fact that the soil doesn't seem to have any tracks in it."

"Ah, okay." Tifa smiled, pulling at her hair with a small tune on her lips.

The ex-SOLDIER clucked his tongue."What has you so happy? Get a good night of sleep? Get a tan? Molest the poolboy at the hotel?"

Surprisingly, rather than receiving a smack to the head in response, Tifa shook her head and smiled. "No. Cloud and I had a nice conversation. I guess there might be hope."

"Hope for what?"

Tifa lost her smile. "Zack," she warned, her head shaking, "please don't do anything. Really; I consider you a friend, and we've already spoken of it. I don't want to make this a bad day. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"So I can't molest the poolboy?"

"No, Zack. You can't."


Rio was a small fishing town reserved in the north-east of Costa del Sol, where the fish were plentiful and the air fresh with the scent of corn and water. A river, the one that Zack and the others had followed up, ran straight through. On one side was the stores and the industry, so much cleaner than Midgar, except for the fish heads and bones that littered the soil, used for fertilizer. On the other were the homes, cute and story-like, with small shutters to cover the windows and large gardens. It reminded Zack of home, and his body ached with sadness.

It was a busy afternoon; the fishing seemed to be done, most of the leather-skinned men, too much time out in the sun, their hands always holding on to a fishing rod or nets made out of harsh materials, cutting open their prizes of the day. Zack noticed, as far away as she could get, that Aeris was wincing in pain every time one of the men weathered by water and age cut into one of the still-moving fish. She was going to vomit, Zack could nearly smell it on the wind.

They traveled, men tipping their hats with respect, children running around with fish bones in their hands for weapons, using the palms of their other hand to be their shield. Zack remembered when that was him. He would stay out until far after the sun had gone down, running with mirth, heart pumping to the feeling of his legs pounding against the dirt, climbing into the trees to hide from his school friends.

One ran straight between Zack's legs, laughing and giggling. He couldn't have been older than four.

"Oh, sonny-boy, don't run 'round 'tween the nice folk's legs," he older man smiled, reaching out one hand to Zack, the other running through the small boy's shock of red hair. "We're just a nice fishin' town. Don't want my boy getting' his head squished. Name's Paul Heusen, and this here's Johnny. Now," Paul spoke to the little boy, whose head was staring up with adoration, "why don't you go find your mama? Go cross the bridge."

But Zack's head was in another place. Heusen? Hadn't he known someone with that name? It was so long ago, and there had been so many names and faces, but that one rang out. Heusen?

"An' you might be?"

Zack shook his head. "Sorry 'bout that. The name's Zack Fair, sir." He started to name off the others, but stopped when he noticed the man's calculating brown eyes staring into him. "Is there something wrong?"

"You were in Shinra," the man stated, not leaving any room for an answer. "You knew my son, didn't you? You look a little young, but it was about eight years ago. His name was Jamie. Did you know anything about him?"

Jamie? I remember him. On the train, the first day. He wanted to be a Turk like his cousin, I think. He had brown hair and wold joke about how he always wanted to dye it red. Said the color ran in his family. Did he die? Did he make it to Turk? Did he get addicted to MM? I just can't remember. He shared a room with the rest of the grunts for a while, but then he switched out when he made apprentice. Who was he an apprentice to?

Zack answered slowly, "I remember a boy names Jamie. Said he came from here, big brown eyes and brown hair." The fisherman's eyes looked like they would explode. "I met him on the first day."

"How is he? He never wrote home and me and my wife worried so. Did he ever make it to anything? I remember I hit him when he tried to leave," the weathered face grieved, and Zack could see the pain lines etched into his skin. There were so many of them, so deep, like scars that would never fade.

"I couldn't tell you," Zack answered. "I left SOLDIER about five years ago. If he made it further, I couldn't tell. He was a strong-willed guy."

Paul nodded. "He never wanted ta be a fisherman. Wanted lights that were electric, not the candles we have here. Never accepted the way of them Shinra. Never came knockin' at our doors, either. But his cousin, no good," the man spat on the ground, "puttin' ideas inta his head; crazy illusions of grandeur an' women and men. My boy was a good one, straight as an arrow, but that damn cousin o' his, damn Turk."

Red hair. Crimson and wild, like that boy. Reno?

"What about his cousin?" Zack turned to see who had asked the question. It was Cloud, whose eyes were narrowed. It seemed that he had made the subtle connection. Aeris seemed to, as well.

"Well, why don't you come inta my shop, I'll pull up a couple a chairs an' tell ya."


The room smelled of decaying fish. The candle-light was so strange compared to the neon lights of other places, industrialized by Shinra. It set the room with an eerie glow, even though the windows were opened wide.

Paul sat still in a rocking chair, rocking back and forth at the same pace as his clock's ticking. Zack noticed the objects was about a third of a second off.

"Boy was a troublemaker all his life; killed the cat, lit the kitchen on fire, drove me an' my wife insane with grief. Always hanging in trees and running to put his hands up the skirts of women. We took 'im in, you see. His mama, my wife's sister, wasn't all right in the head. Got herself with child at sixteen behind the pub. Didn't know the man, I'd say, but I don't hold it 'gainst her. Baby came nine months later an' she couldn't take care of it. Left not two weeks after the boy was born, and me an my wife took good care of him. Didn't wanna be fisherman either.

"Ran away when he was seventeen, got into a gang in Midgar. Don't know what that year was like, but he got outta it. Sometimes I wish he didn't, bless my poor soul. My wife cried a lot for him, and even more when our boy ran. We waited for a letter, a sign, anythin', but it didn't come for two years. He wrote home to my boy, Jamie. He always liked Jamie, one of the reason why he left, I like ta think, but that'll come later.

"Said that the Turks accepted him; didn't need to go through the grunt work or nuthin'. Jamie was so proud. I 'member him askin' if he could go inta Shinra, but I told him no. Gave him a taste of what Shinra did to Crondrel. Didn't like the stories, said his good ol' cousin wouldn't do things like that, but I knew he knew better. Didn't matter. The monster already corrupted him.

"Boy would get letters at all times of the day. I remember once when he got one, urgent the mailman said, and it was jus' bullshi'. I read through most of 'em, nuthin' too bad, but I knew there were some that woulda made my skin crawl. Hid them real good. Never found 'em, even after Jamie left. But there were always letters. I can't recall how many I went through. Always askin' how home was, if he needed to come and get Jamie, save him from dyin' o' boredom. They'd always been close.

"Then, one night about two years later, I heard sumthin' at the window. Didn't know what it was until I hear the moanin'. Cousins! I broke the damn door down and grabbed that lil' rat by the hair and threw him offa my boy. Damage had already been done an' I couldn't do nuthin' 'bout the blood on the sheets. Little shit ran when I grabbed the gun in my room, tryin' ta explain all the way out that there was nuthin' going on, even with his pants 'round his ankles. Woulda killed him if Jamie hadn't gotten in the way.

"Beat him senseless, thinkin' that it would get that weirdness his cousin got in his out. My boy wasn't doin' such things with another, older guy who was his cousin! Wasn't going to be joinin' Shinra, wasn't going to get a promised job in the Turks, even if his shit cousin was the fuckin' president of the company! My boy wasn't lovin' no piss poor excuse for a human, with his head not screwed on right and those damn tattoos. Gaia I hated those things. Made him ever more of a punk.

"He ran away the next day. I didn't think anything about his cousin because a bunch of the boys went missin' telling their mama's that they were going out a few miles with a group and camping. I figured he wanted to be with his friends, even though I found him the night before and grounded him.

"None of the boys came back. Took me a day to notice what that fuckin' Turk had been doing—recruitin'. Finding his company a bunch o' pliable kids an' fuckin' 'em 'til they wanted ta come with him. He manipulated my boy, who had too big of a heart. My boy loved too much, fell in love with his punk cousin an' I haven't seen him since."

The man took in a breath a wiped at his eyes. There were tears, Zack noticed with a hint of uncertainty. A man so weathered didn't look right with tears down his face.

"What was his cousin's name?"

"Took his mama's last name. Didn't want mine. Thought I wasn't good enough. Was Sinclair—fittin' for a boy who was evil, don't you think? Name was Reno. Last thing his mama said before she ran off. Coulda been a good boy, if only he tried."

Zack felt his mouth dry and stomach retch.

"Naw… but, I'm willing to try."


Surprised? I'm not. This has been a long time in the making. I'm finally starting to make everything! I'm so happy! You have no idea how much I love this chapter—there was finally stuff about Reno's life before becoming a Turk. And yes, before you ask, Reno was a naughty little thing, lying to Zack, but there are reasons. Also, drop by my profile and take the new poll! I wanna know what you think Of reno's certain love.

Please Review and tell me what you thought of our shocking little twist!