Falling Raindrops; Fallen Dreams
Reno shoved the sunglasses, beaded with water drops, further back on his head as he stood silently in the pouring rain. In the freaking pouring rain, he reiterated to himself.
He blinked a couple of times, then looked up from where he had been watching his shoes melt into the mud for the last fifteen minutes to find that one of his partners, the blonde Elena, was still crying. Combined with the damned rain, it made her look like a thoroughly drowned and miserable rat. Her makeup was running all down her face, her hair in its short and manageable cut that was so unlike his own was plastered to her head, and her soaked clothes clung to her, revealing how small and insignificant she really was.
Unable to look at the sight directly in front of him, the redheaded Turk skimmed right over it and turned his attention to Rude. The bald man was also drenched, and the raindrops made interesting sounds as they bounced off his head. He stood stoic and silent as usual, but Reno could have sworn that not all of the moisture streaming down Rude's face and seeping out from under his perpetual sunglasses was rain.
Then there was nothing else to look at in the empty, dismal graveyard. Heaving a sigh, Reno turned his attention to the gravestone in front of him. Not just any gravestone, though. Tseng's gravestone.
I always knew that this day would come, when one of us would be dead. Hell, I was even expecting it early, 'cause of our line of work. But Tseng, I always thought it would be me to go first. Me, the one who always took risks and leaped before he thought. Not you, the calm, controlled one. Ever since I met ya, 's been that way. You were ice to my fire, or some poetic shit like that.
Reno chuckled lightly to himself, the slight smile on his face bitter. Neither Elena or Rude noticed, both being caught up in their own personal good byes to their fallen leader.
Ya didn't know what to make of me when we first met, did ya Tseng? Naw, ya kept up that cool front, but I grew up in the slums of Midgar. Readin' expressions can mean life or death. I could see through that front from time to time, and was spurred on by the interest and slight amusement in yer eyes…
----------------------------------------------------
Well, why don't I just get this out of the way right now. I know what everyone always says about me. "He'll chase anything in a skirt." I've always added my own little line to that under my breath. "Or anything that isn't." There, ya get it? If ya don't, then you're pretty damn stupid.
I wasn't really payin' too much attention to ya when you were givin' us the whole "Two of ya are going to become Turks" spiel in the beginning, Tseng. I think ya already noticed that, though. Well, that is, after I had stopped staring at ya. I mean, I hadn't expected my boss to be so friggin' beautiful!
So, anyway, I was standing in a line with a whole bunch of other Turk candidates. We were standing in that reception hall in the Shin-Ra building, remember? There was a whole bunch of us, maybe twenty or thirty. I was cocky, and sure I was going to get the position. The way my thoughts ran were, 'I got this far, I c'n make it all the way.' Ya already know this, Tseng, but I had to beat out thousands of other possible candidates just to get into that top twenty. I lied, bit, scratched, stole, fought, and cheated my way up to the top, and here I was, there at last. I was finally there, and, well, not all that friggin' impressed with the competition.
Most of the men--and the two women--in the group of candidates looked nervous. Hell, I could practically smell the fear in the air. Most looked like little prissy mama's boys whose rich daddy had paid for them to get into this top twenty. There were a few, here and there, that looked like real fighters, and I even knew one or two of 'em from my days on the streets of Midgar. But we didn't acknowledge each other, or speak. We were all too busy pretending to pay attention to yer borin' speech. Yes, it was amazingly boring. If I can recall, things went something like this…
"I am Tseng Harachi, and I am the leader of the Turks. Now, before we begin anything, I'm going to quickly run through your names and brief histories. Agvi, Opal, of Upper Junon. His father is…" Tseng said over the microphone from his position on a small raised platform.
Reno stifled a yawn and shifted position so that all of his weight was on his right leg. He could feel his right leg going numb as little pins and needles pricked him. Damn, is this borin' or what…
"Forester, Isabel, of Mideel. She was…"
For such a good lookin' guy, this Tseng sure likes to hear himself talk, Reno mused, rolling his eyes to himself.
Suddenly, he brought his attention back as he heard, "Ichikoh, Reno, from sector five, Midgar." The Wutaiiin man on the small platform nodded to Reno, and all attention went to the redheaded man, who simply crossed his arms over his chest and made it look like he always had twenty people staring at him. "Reno first came to our attention when he managed to kill ten armed members of a rival gang last year--when he himself was unarmed.
A ripple of whispers went through the crowd, and Reno heard people hissing things like, "Isn't that-" "It is! That's the leader of the Zoloms!" Reno grinned. His former gang was infamous.
Tseng waited for the noise to die down, then went on. "Jagged, Iol, from Costa del Sol..."
Reno leaned over to one of the two women in the group, who just so happened to have been put next to him and had already been introduced by Tseng as Isabel Forester, and murmured to her, "Bored yet?" When she looked at him, then did a double take with interest in her eyes, he grinned. He knew very well that he was a handsome and striking man with his fiery, long wild hair and twinkling emerald eyes. He was tall and lanky, and had a cocky air of cat-like grace.
"This guy's damn long winded," Isabel whispered back, her brown eyes twinkling. I could have some fun with this one… Reno thought to himself, looking at her curvaceous figure and cute face.
He moved in closer. "I would hafta agree with ya on that count."
She looked at him curiously. "Are you really the leader of the Midgar Zoloms?"
Reno gave a nod. "Yep. Of course, I gave that up for this, so not really any more."
Her respect for him seemed to go up a notch. "And were you really known as Killer Ichikoh?"
Reno bobbed his head again. "Although my real name is Reno, I've also been known to go by Killer."
A flirtatious smile grew on Isabel's face. "Are you…dangerous?"
Reno's smirk got wider. "I can be."
He could read the interest in her eyes. "I'm Isabel Forester," she offered.
Tseng's voice, losing the droning monotone, suddenly cut into their conversation. "Miss Forester, can you please repeat what I just said for those us of who didn't hear it?" There was a rustle as all of the heads in the hall turned to look at the brunette woman.
Isabel looked flustered, and blushed. "W-umm…" She regained her composure, stood up straight and tall, and looked Tseng straight in the eyes. "I don't know, sir."
Tseng nodded. "Very well." In those two words, he somehow conveyed an impression of impending doom for the unlucky woman. Isabel looked down at her feet abashedly.
"Mr. Ichikoh, I'll ask you the same," Tseng went on.
All attention went to Reno again. "Certainly, sir. How far back do ya want me to start?" Reno asked, looking confidant.
Tseng's cool brown eyes looked down on Reno with an unreadable expression in them. "Start from where I finished speaking of Mr. Ziae."
Reno nodded. " 'Now that we are all introduced,'" he began in a loud voice, " 'may I just say welcome, and congratulations on getting this far. You twenty are the best fighters on the Planet, and have surpassed thousands, even millions of other candidates. I'm not one for speeches, but I am going to say this: good luck to all of you.
" 'I have seen how some of you perform personally, and some of you are unknown to me. Enigmas. Well, that is one thing that is going to change. By the time this is over, I will know everything about you. I will know what can make--or break--you. This is going to be the most grueling and hard experience of your life. Many of you will lose your lives, in all probability. This is certainly not going to be a walk in the park, ladies and gentlemen. If there is anyone who wants to get out now, please step forward.'" Reno paused for a moment, as Tseng had, then went on. " 'No one? Good. Now, on to the actual testing.'" Reno was aware of a large number of the other candidates gaping at his word for word recital, and even Tseng quirked an eyebrow and gave an amused smile.
" 'The tests are going to be taking place, at first, in the Shin-Ra building, but as the number of you grows fewer and fewer, the tests shall take place farther and farther afield.'" He looked up to Tseng. "That's where ya left off, sir."
Tseng nodded, the amused smile still in place. "Thank Ya, Mr. Ichikoh." Then, to all of them: "Follow me, please."
The entire mass of candidates followed the Turk leader as he stepped down from the platform and led them to the wide, sweeping staircase that they had come up through.
Reno followed along at the back of the crowd easily. He turned as he was aware of a tug on his sleeve. Isabel was walking beside him. "How did you do that?" she asked in wonder.
"Photographic memory," replied Reno. "Everything I see or hear, even if I'm not really paying attention, stays right up here." He tapped his fiery head.
The brunette shook her head slowly. "That is one hell of an advantage for you."
Reno shrugged. "Yeah, probably. Hey, are ya pissed at me for getting ya in trouble with Tseng?"
She looked down at her moving feet. "A little."
"Let me make it up to ya. Over dinner, maybe?" Reno suggested.
Isabel hesitated for a moment, then nodded coyly. "A-all right."
Reno nearly grinned. Gets 'em every time, he thought with satisfaction. "Is tonight good for ya?" he asked.
Her voice scrunched in thought, then she nodded. "Yup, tonight is good."
Reno noticed that they were falling far behind the main group, and he hurried down the stairs, taking several steps at a time until he caught up with the stragglers. To her credit, Isabel kept up with him, even though she appeared to be scribbling something with a pencil and paper that she had dug out from one jacket pocket.
"Here." She handed him the scrap of paper. "My number. Call me tonight."
Reno pocketed it. "Aright."
---------------------------------
Reno shook his head vehemently, feeling the soggy strands of hair hit his face with twapping noises. Too far, stupid, he berated himself silently. Who gives a shit about some girl you fucked ten years ago. This is about Tseng.
He sighed and looked up at Elena and Rude. Neither of them seemed to have noticed his transgression down Memory Lane, and neither of them seemed inclined to leave anytime soon. Reno's attention went back to the man whose body was lying six feet under the soaked ground in front of him. Back to you, Tseng.
A/n: Well, this is the first in what's going to be a series of several chapters. All of them are going to be mostly Reno's memories of Tseng and his early days as a Turk. There's not too much yaoi right now, but there will be in later chapters. This is a request piece for…Wannon-chan, I believe. (I apologize profusely if I am wrong and it's for Smeegie. And I apologize for that horrible misspelling too.) Anyway, please review!!!