The Headless Aftermath and Other Rats in the Sun
From the author of, "An Autobiography of Vincent Valentine,"
And, "Phantom Wall Devils: An Interview with Sephiroth."
By: The Inaudible Phoenix Down
Tifa exited the train.
On the wooden platform, she was eclipsed by a shadow of a passing by cloud over the sun.
A swift, sincere smile lifted her cheeks as her tongue lubricated her lips.
Cloud, out in the distance, waved to her.
People passing by to-and-fro made him vanish for just a moment.
Tifa dropped her bags as he headed toward her.
He looked a little different than how she remembered him. His skin was a little tanner, his hair a little longer, his chin a little scruffier.
But, he didn't look bad.
Without hesitation, they embraced for a lingered moment. Cloud intertwined his arms around the whole of her body, savoring every moment their flesh touched.
He wasn't exactly sure how he truly felt about her emotionally; but physically, she felt good- even her smell. He couldn't deny that.
The hug seemed a little long- and after a moment felt over, she awkwardly pushed him away. "I missed you." She said quietly as she lifted her bags onto her round, bare shoulders.
"Let me take those." Cloud Strife offered.
His blue eyes were as bright as she remembered them. They reminded her of a shard of sea after a passed storm.
She handed him her heavy, green bag with a broken strap.
"Did you have trouble getting here? I bet your tiered." Cloud asked as they walked off the platform. Tifa noticed that they were one of the few people here.
She wondered where everyone went.
"Not really." She answered absently.
The train station seemed unusually quiet and dark for a mid-afternoon.
They walked out of the out-skirts of Costa del Sol, and into the mid-section of town where they caught a ride into down-town, and soon- to Cloud's villa.
As the afternoon wore on, so did the heat. It was going to be another lazy, warm day.
Cloud un-locked his front door, and together they walked in. His villa looked as though it survived a last minute cleaning session. It smelt of dirty clothes and lemon cleaning fluid.
Tifa looked around as she put her bags down. The villa looked ill-lit and lonely.
~
Yuffie sighed silently as she knocked on Cid's front door.
Vincent noticed that she looked a little dirty, exhausted, and above all- uneasy. She continuously shifted her weight, and clenched and unclenched her sweaty palms.
"Don't worry," He whispered to her through his red collar. "He will remember you."
She looked up at him. "That's sort of what I'm afraid of."
"Why?"
Before Yuffie could answer, Cid answered the knocking on his front door.
Cigarette ash tumbled off the end of the orange tip and sprinkled his T-shirt.
He glanced to Yuffie.
The expression on his lips and behind his small eyes was one of annoyance and question.
Then, his sharp, dark eyes darted to Vincent.
His expression lightened, and his front door widened.
"Vincent, hey, HEY, hi-ya, pal! How the %$#@!% are ya?! What brings ya to my humble abode? Didn't think I'd ever see the likes of YOU again! $%#@!! You- you guys been on a journey? You don't look so good! Damn!"
Cid wrapped one arm around Vincent's neck, and with a man's shrug- hugged him. Vincent awkwardly received the gesture.
Yuffie tapped her foot impatiently as Cid ignored her completely- they tolerated each other during "The Incident," but never, really, liked each other at all.
Frankly, Yuffie was slightly intimidated by him.
"Well, I can think of a ton of questions, why don't you two come in for some tea, and we will talk- catch up on ol' times, you know? SHIELA!"
~
Tseng looked around. Reeve's home reminded him of one of his own. He used to own three.
Tseng lifted a ceramic cat off of Reeve's glass coffee table.
"I've never understood you or liked you, Reeve. You, and your alter-ego. It's... fucked up. What normal person makes a stuffed cat and does things he can't do in person? I'll tell you. A person with identity issues does that. That's why I've never liked you. Your... just... too... strange."
Reeve didn't reply to Tseng as he took a white towel out of the closet.
"But, it's fitting that you would make a cat be your alter-ego. You're a pussy, Reeve." Tseng flashed a dirty grin as he replaced the ceramic cat down on the table.
"The bathroom is down the hall. There should be razors and shaving cream under the sink. I also put one of my suits for you in there. Knock yourself out. Once your done, I want you to tell me what it was you wanted to tell me, then- leave."
"Deal." Tseng said as he took the towel and headed towards the bathroom. All the while, he was smiling.
As the bathroom door shut, a sudden wave of worry encompassed Reeve.
He simply had, 'a very-bad-feeling-about-this.'
Then, the water turned on in the bathroom.
What could go wrong? It was only Tseng, and he could understand why he felt so bitter towards him. Maybe taking him in for a while, and cleaning him up would make up for all of that. Reeve even considered trying to find him a job in the Toy Department where he worked.
But... wouldn't Tseng then resent him EVEN MORE if he did that?
Maybe life on the street taught Tseng a thing or two in swallowing his pride. Maybe not.
Reeve walked around his beautiful, white apartment in upper Midgar.
Everything was tasteful in his home.
He owned a large, black leather sofa, and a wide screen TV. Reeve owned white a dozen white lilies in a crystal vase on a mantle.
He was proud of his apartment; but rarely, VERY rarely, did he have guests over.
As a matter of fact, would this be the first time anyone ever came over?
Reeve headed into the kitchen. He took out a bottle of red wine, and two crystal wine glasses, and he set them upon his table.
The table was made of glass, and held a beautiful-tasteful- flowered centerpiece in the middle.
The flowers were red.
"Red as blood." Reeve smiled.
The water turned off.
Reeve headed back into the living room, and sat down. He tried picking up a book, then a magazine. He couldn't concentrate on the words.
Nearly a half hour passed before the door opened letting steam pour out in sticky waves.
Tseng stood before the bathroom mirror combing out his long, long locks of wet, black hair.
The mirror in the bathroom was caked in steamy heat, except a small window where Tseng rubbed away a circle for his face.
He looked like a thinner version of the Tseng Reeve remembered. The matted, five-year-old beard had vanished from his face, the rags were in the trash, his teeth was brushed, and his nails clipped.
The suit he wore fitted him and his personality perfectly.
Tseng's left arm hung uselessly at his side; the navy-blue sleeve of the suit jacket hung equally as limp.
Reeve approached the bathroom, and asked politely- (as politely as he could have managed, anyway,)
"Need help with the sleeve, I know your arm's..."
Tseng turned, dropped the black comb, and looked at Reeve.
Then, he nodded.
Reeve helped him straiten out the jacket, and helped his nerve-damaged arm into the sleeve.
They walked out of the bathroom, and into the kitchen. Reeve offered him a glass of wine.
A moment passed as they sat at Reeve's kitchen table before they spoke.
"So, what was it that you wanted, er- needed to, tell me?"
"Tell me Reeve, what is the golden rule that the Turks live by?"
"I don't know. I never really had anything to do with you guys."
"It's something that the people of the streets live by, too. 'Keep Your Friend's Close and Your Enemies Closer.' THAT'S the golden rule that I've lived by nearly all my life."
There was a silence as Tseng finished his wine.
"So, what was it?" Reeve pressed further as he folded his hands upon the table.
"I know what president Julius is looking for under the Shin-Ra mansion. It's been a secret at the Company for years. I'm surprised that you don't know."
Tseng said as he smiled.
"I know that there is something Top Secret down there. And it's not the lab. There was a reason why they never tore it down. I- I-just. Don't know what it is. I've never NEEDED to know."
Tseng paused, and eyed the green bottle of wine.
"The Turks know. And it isn't Valentine. But, I wouldn't be surprised if he knows all about it. There is something else down there. A room that you can only get to by tearing the place down." Tseng continued as he poured himself a mouthful. "My theory is that Julius is a smart guy, but not smart enough to keep himself from being manipulated. I've been following the election; I don't think he's the one who is calling the shots. I think that there is someone who is after what is down there." Tseng swallowed the mouthful of wine.
"So, who is manipulating the president? What is down in the mansion?"
Tseng stood, and took the green wine bottle in hand.
Reeve looked up at him.
A knife-like smile played upon Tseng's lips as he shattered the bottle on Reeve's table.
Scarlet red wine and green glass snowflaked all over their clothes, and all over the table.
It seemed to happen in slow motion.
Tseng pushed the table aside; letting the two glasses and flower center-piece crash to the floor.
Wine, like blood, seeped into the white carpeting and meandered slowly like thick rivers everywhere.
Tseng grabbed Reeve by his shirt collar, and attacked him with the broken wine bottle.
"Keep your friend's close, and your enemies closer," Tseng whispered into Reeve's bleeding ear.
From the author of, "An Autobiography of Vincent Valentine,"
And, "Phantom Wall Devils: An Interview with Sephiroth."
By: The Inaudible Phoenix Down
Tifa exited the train.
On the wooden platform, she was eclipsed by a shadow of a passing by cloud over the sun.
A swift, sincere smile lifted her cheeks as her tongue lubricated her lips.
Cloud, out in the distance, waved to her.
People passing by to-and-fro made him vanish for just a moment.
Tifa dropped her bags as he headed toward her.
He looked a little different than how she remembered him. His skin was a little tanner, his hair a little longer, his chin a little scruffier.
But, he didn't look bad.
Without hesitation, they embraced for a lingered moment. Cloud intertwined his arms around the whole of her body, savoring every moment their flesh touched.
He wasn't exactly sure how he truly felt about her emotionally; but physically, she felt good- even her smell. He couldn't deny that.
The hug seemed a little long- and after a moment felt over, she awkwardly pushed him away. "I missed you." She said quietly as she lifted her bags onto her round, bare shoulders.
"Let me take those." Cloud Strife offered.
His blue eyes were as bright as she remembered them. They reminded her of a shard of sea after a passed storm.
She handed him her heavy, green bag with a broken strap.
"Did you have trouble getting here? I bet your tiered." Cloud asked as they walked off the platform. Tifa noticed that they were one of the few people here.
She wondered where everyone went.
"Not really." She answered absently.
The train station seemed unusually quiet and dark for a mid-afternoon.
They walked out of the out-skirts of Costa del Sol, and into the mid-section of town where they caught a ride into down-town, and soon- to Cloud's villa.
As the afternoon wore on, so did the heat. It was going to be another lazy, warm day.
Cloud un-locked his front door, and together they walked in. His villa looked as though it survived a last minute cleaning session. It smelt of dirty clothes and lemon cleaning fluid.
Tifa looked around as she put her bags down. The villa looked ill-lit and lonely.
~
Yuffie sighed silently as she knocked on Cid's front door.
Vincent noticed that she looked a little dirty, exhausted, and above all- uneasy. She continuously shifted her weight, and clenched and unclenched her sweaty palms.
"Don't worry," He whispered to her through his red collar. "He will remember you."
She looked up at him. "That's sort of what I'm afraid of."
"Why?"
Before Yuffie could answer, Cid answered the knocking on his front door.
Cigarette ash tumbled off the end of the orange tip and sprinkled his T-shirt.
He glanced to Yuffie.
The expression on his lips and behind his small eyes was one of annoyance and question.
Then, his sharp, dark eyes darted to Vincent.
His expression lightened, and his front door widened.
"Vincent, hey, HEY, hi-ya, pal! How the %$#@!% are ya?! What brings ya to my humble abode? Didn't think I'd ever see the likes of YOU again! $%#@!! You- you guys been on a journey? You don't look so good! Damn!"
Cid wrapped one arm around Vincent's neck, and with a man's shrug- hugged him. Vincent awkwardly received the gesture.
Yuffie tapped her foot impatiently as Cid ignored her completely- they tolerated each other during "The Incident," but never, really, liked each other at all.
Frankly, Yuffie was slightly intimidated by him.
"Well, I can think of a ton of questions, why don't you two come in for some tea, and we will talk- catch up on ol' times, you know? SHIELA!"
~
Tseng looked around. Reeve's home reminded him of one of his own. He used to own three.
Tseng lifted a ceramic cat off of Reeve's glass coffee table.
"I've never understood you or liked you, Reeve. You, and your alter-ego. It's... fucked up. What normal person makes a stuffed cat and does things he can't do in person? I'll tell you. A person with identity issues does that. That's why I've never liked you. Your... just... too... strange."
Reeve didn't reply to Tseng as he took a white towel out of the closet.
"But, it's fitting that you would make a cat be your alter-ego. You're a pussy, Reeve." Tseng flashed a dirty grin as he replaced the ceramic cat down on the table.
"The bathroom is down the hall. There should be razors and shaving cream under the sink. I also put one of my suits for you in there. Knock yourself out. Once your done, I want you to tell me what it was you wanted to tell me, then- leave."
"Deal." Tseng said as he took the towel and headed towards the bathroom. All the while, he was smiling.
As the bathroom door shut, a sudden wave of worry encompassed Reeve.
He simply had, 'a very-bad-feeling-about-this.'
Then, the water turned on in the bathroom.
What could go wrong? It was only Tseng, and he could understand why he felt so bitter towards him. Maybe taking him in for a while, and cleaning him up would make up for all of that. Reeve even considered trying to find him a job in the Toy Department where he worked.
But... wouldn't Tseng then resent him EVEN MORE if he did that?
Maybe life on the street taught Tseng a thing or two in swallowing his pride. Maybe not.
Reeve walked around his beautiful, white apartment in upper Midgar.
Everything was tasteful in his home.
He owned a large, black leather sofa, and a wide screen TV. Reeve owned white a dozen white lilies in a crystal vase on a mantle.
He was proud of his apartment; but rarely, VERY rarely, did he have guests over.
As a matter of fact, would this be the first time anyone ever came over?
Reeve headed into the kitchen. He took out a bottle of red wine, and two crystal wine glasses, and he set them upon his table.
The table was made of glass, and held a beautiful-tasteful- flowered centerpiece in the middle.
The flowers were red.
"Red as blood." Reeve smiled.
The water turned off.
Reeve headed back into the living room, and sat down. He tried picking up a book, then a magazine. He couldn't concentrate on the words.
Nearly a half hour passed before the door opened letting steam pour out in sticky waves.
Tseng stood before the bathroom mirror combing out his long, long locks of wet, black hair.
The mirror in the bathroom was caked in steamy heat, except a small window where Tseng rubbed away a circle for his face.
He looked like a thinner version of the Tseng Reeve remembered. The matted, five-year-old beard had vanished from his face, the rags were in the trash, his teeth was brushed, and his nails clipped.
The suit he wore fitted him and his personality perfectly.
Tseng's left arm hung uselessly at his side; the navy-blue sleeve of the suit jacket hung equally as limp.
Reeve approached the bathroom, and asked politely- (as politely as he could have managed, anyway,)
"Need help with the sleeve, I know your arm's..."
Tseng turned, dropped the black comb, and looked at Reeve.
Then, he nodded.
Reeve helped him straiten out the jacket, and helped his nerve-damaged arm into the sleeve.
They walked out of the bathroom, and into the kitchen. Reeve offered him a glass of wine.
A moment passed as they sat at Reeve's kitchen table before they spoke.
"So, what was it that you wanted, er- needed to, tell me?"
"Tell me Reeve, what is the golden rule that the Turks live by?"
"I don't know. I never really had anything to do with you guys."
"It's something that the people of the streets live by, too. 'Keep Your Friend's Close and Your Enemies Closer.' THAT'S the golden rule that I've lived by nearly all my life."
There was a silence as Tseng finished his wine.
"So, what was it?" Reeve pressed further as he folded his hands upon the table.
"I know what president Julius is looking for under the Shin-Ra mansion. It's been a secret at the Company for years. I'm surprised that you don't know."
Tseng said as he smiled.
"I know that there is something Top Secret down there. And it's not the lab. There was a reason why they never tore it down. I- I-just. Don't know what it is. I've never NEEDED to know."
Tseng paused, and eyed the green bottle of wine.
"The Turks know. And it isn't Valentine. But, I wouldn't be surprised if he knows all about it. There is something else down there. A room that you can only get to by tearing the place down." Tseng continued as he poured himself a mouthful. "My theory is that Julius is a smart guy, but not smart enough to keep himself from being manipulated. I've been following the election; I don't think he's the one who is calling the shots. I think that there is someone who is after what is down there." Tseng swallowed the mouthful of wine.
"So, who is manipulating the president? What is down in the mansion?"
Tseng stood, and took the green wine bottle in hand.
Reeve looked up at him.
A knife-like smile played upon Tseng's lips as he shattered the bottle on Reeve's table.
Scarlet red wine and green glass snowflaked all over their clothes, and all over the table.
It seemed to happen in slow motion.
Tseng pushed the table aside; letting the two glasses and flower center-piece crash to the floor.
Wine, like blood, seeped into the white carpeting and meandered slowly like thick rivers everywhere.
Tseng grabbed Reeve by his shirt collar, and attacked him with the broken wine bottle.
"Keep your friend's close, and your enemies closer," Tseng whispered into Reeve's bleeding ear.