Three Leaves Left
Volume III of the Sun series.
Reno bent down, and picked up the morning paper from his doorstep.
He was renting out a small section of an old man's house that had several additions put onto it; there was an added door, a kitchen, and a bathroom, as so whomever rented it- never had to see the old man that lived there.
Mrs. Fertino, the woman that lived above Reno, had the same deal.
The old man added a lot to his old house, as so he would have people's money coming in.
He made money without lifting a finger, such is the life of a landlord.
Reno had a makeshift front porch; it was one of the things added to his side of the house in Midgar.
"Hmmm..." A low rumble of thought purred in the back of his unshaven throat.
He stared at the headline news.
"Ex-Turk Once Declared Dead- Found Alive and Working for Shin-Ra."
It was a scandal headline.
Scandals sold papers.
Reno chuckled to himself.
The article was about Tseng.
In the photo, Tseng looked like he was completely reveling in his five minutes of fame. He was laughing, and smiling.
The caption under the photo read:
"Tseng tells all to journalist, Phoenix Down. Once declared dead, he now finds himself completely penniless. Now with one crippled arm, Tseng struggles back to the top at his new job in Shin-Ra HQ."
Reno stood and read the article top to bottom upon his shadowed, wooden porch.
His holy, striped boxer-shorts and baggy, brown bathrobe flapped in the dirty wind.
Morning joggers passed him by as he continued to read the paper. He paid little mind to them. Most of them were regulars to the earliest peaks of the hazy, Midgar dawn.
So when the man with the slicked black hair began to walk down the filthy street, Reno didn't notice.
"Ahoy, there, Reno!" The man stopped in his tracks, and called out to Reno.
Reno looked up, and narrowed his eyes a moment while names flew by his mind. He seemed familiar... The spotless, navy suit. The shiny black shoes. Combed, short, black hair. Certainly wasn't one who came by these Midgar sectors much. He was too much of a open target for mugging...
"Remember me?" The clean cut man called. "The grocery store!?"
Reno wrapped his uncut toenail about his calf, and itched himself.
Oh. Yeah, -- he thought. HIM.
"Oh, yeah, man, uh, hey." Reno lowered his paper loudly, and tucked it under his hairy armpit. He then reached into his bathrobe pocket for a pack of cigarettes.
The man approached Reno, but didn't climb up the saggy, flaking, porch steps.
"Top of the mornin' to ya." The man chirped happily as he placed his hand upon Reno's railing.
"I didn't catch your name before." Reno spoke while the orange tip of the cigarette became tucked between his teeth. He then took out his lighter.
"Oh, right! Reeve, Reeve from the Shin-Ra." Reeve followed Reno's glare.
It fell to Reeve's shiny shoe, which happened to be absently resting upon the first step of Reno's dilapidating, tiered-looking porch.
Reeve quickly recoiled his foot from Reno's step.
"We were never friends, Reeve. I don't know why your being all touchy-feely with me all of a sudden, frankly, I'm suspicious of what your motivation might be. What the fuck do you want, so I can get you off of my property." Reno lifted his chin, and looked down at Reeve coldly.
With a slow exhale, he squeezed the smoke from his lungs, the same way a finger squeezed the trigger of a gun.
Reeve suddenly felt small as he stood far lower than Reno on the polluted Midgar floor.
Reno's eyes were gem-green stones.
Reeve looked up to them, as if searching for something, words perhaps.
He found nothing in his fellow-man's dirty, dry face.
"Listen, Reno. We... we got something in common. We are more alike than you realize, really, we are. We both don't trust anyone, and both only use people for what they are worth, and then leave 'em. Neither one of us has a SIDE, really. I mean-"
"You know what, mother-fucker, Tseng spent his whole life tryin' to kill you, and I'm just sorry now to realize that he hasn't." Reno removed the cigarette from his lips, and directed his sharp, long index finger to Reeve forehead, emphasizing his point. "But I can make up for Tseng. I CAN kill you. I got a shut gun, right here behind my front door, mother-fucker, and if you don't get off my property in three seconds, I'm gunna reach back here, pull it out, and fill your head with lead, get my drift..." Reno flicked his cigarette ash onto Reeve's suit.
It exploded in a flurry of gray and black speckles.
Reeve paused, then brushed it away.
He tightened his black, thin, tie and cleared his throat. "Reno. Tseng works in the floor right below me. He's planning on killing you. I know. I overheard him through the ventilation system, near the Shin-Ra bathrooms. He's tried killing me, and I thought that if he worked together..." Reeve reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out the morning paper.
It was in a tight roll. As he held it, it un-folded like a scroll, revealing Tseng's picture and the headline.
"We could get him before he gets us."
Reno didn't say anything.
However, his arm reached backwards, pushing open his creaking front door.
While keeping solid eye-contact with Reeve, Reno grabbed his 'shot gun.'
Reeve simply turned around, and began walking away.
Reno didn't have a shot-gun. He bluffed. He grabbed his umbrella.
~
"Tifa, open the bloody door, I want to talk to you." Cloud wound his arms about his chest like two, thick, pink coils.
He had just about enough of this.
The arguing.
The fights.
It was always about the wedding plans.
Why did something so simple have to be so complicated? It was JUST a CEREMONY.
He heard her sobbing through the bedroom door as he stood in the hallway.
Cloud un-locked his arms, and looked at his digital watch. It was 11:32 PM already. She should be trying to sleep, not dragging on this argument-he thought.
"Tifa, come ON. Fine. Uhm. Listen. I'm SORRY, I was WRONG, ok?! Is that what you want to hear?"
"Just go away. Your only saying that. You don't mean it. Your just saying your-sniff-wrong, so I'll open the fuggin door. Sniff."
Cloud gave a forced, exasperated, sigh. He grunted, and threw back his head. 'Why are women so-' "Fine. Tifa. Your right. 'I'm only saying that so I'll open the door.' I DON'T think I'm right. I'm scum, ok? I'm SCUM, Tifa, you hear me!? SCUM!!!" Cloud screeched.
Then, there was silence.
Tifa giggled.
"I just, ok, listen, here is MY side of things, Tifa. I just don't think that OUR WEDDING is the TIME or PLACE for Vincent's memorial, ok? If YOU wan to mention him, that's FINE with me! Do what you want, I am just giving you MY OPINION."
"...I know." Tifa said as she leaned her back against the bedroom door. She then slid down, and sat on the floor.
"Just open the door, now, so I can get ready for bed, ok? I'm tiered. And I'm REALLY tiered of arguing these stupid little things with you. I just want to crawl into bed, and hold you, and..."
"Cloud?" Tifa gulped.
"...What now?" Cloud rubbed his temples.
"I think my water just broke..."
"Are you sure it's not another contraction?"
"There is SHIT, wet SHIT on the FLOOR Cloud. Under my legs."
"Oh. God. OPEN THE DOOR!"
"Uaaahhg.. Ah. It hurts. It's coming. Oh my god. Cloud."
"OPEN THE DOOR!"
"I can't!" Tifa cried. "I can't stand! Oh, Cloud, It hurts! I'm blocking the door, and I can't stand up! He'll fall out!"
"He WON'T fall out, Tifa, I promise, open the door!"
Tifa began to wail, and pant heavily. She remembered to breathe.
Cloud hammered on the door, screaming at her to move and open it. Finally, Tifa struggled enough out of the way for him to squeeze through.
Cloud, not owning a car, called 911.
The ambulance came, taking them both to the hospital.
It took Tifa over 27 hours of labor.
The baby boy was born in the earliest hours of the morning.
~
"Stars shining bright, above you. Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you.' Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me..."
"Boy, that Yuffie, I didn't think she'd EVER get over her stage fright."
"She's the queen of Karaoke."
"Shh!"
"...Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you, sweet dream, that leave your worries behind you, but in your dreams, whatever they'll be, dream a little dream of me!"
"She has the voice of an angel, so sweet, an innocent."
"Stars fading, but I linger on! Still craving your kiss! I'm longing to wait till dawn, dear, just craving your kiss. Sweet dreams till sunbeam find you, sweet dreams dear, that leave your worries behind, dear."
"Yeah, she sings, well, I mean, her voice is like a little girls, but, she can carry a tune."
"She IS a little girl." Dally snapped her towel across her shoulder as she spoke to the older man at the bar. The man didn't reply, he only stroked his mustache, then glanced to the triangular lighting on Yuffie.
"Dream a little dream of me!"
Rude hissed at the older man to keep quiet.
Yuffie knew that Rude was in the audience.
Butterflies fluttered and danced from her stomach into her throat. Her singing voice grew quieter. She was always nervous when he was around. There was something creepy about him.
Who was he? Why was he so familiar? Did he know her from somewhere?
Why did he keep requesting her as a server?
When Yuffie finished her song, the Karaoke announcer in a sparkling purple suit jacket came back and announced a woman and her husband onto the stage. They were going to sing, "Bohemian Rhapsody" badly.
Yuffie returned to work. Dally patted her shoulder.
She received more tips and compliments when she sang. The Karaoke machine was a new addition in the Wutai bar on Wednesday nights, she was making the most of it.
Sometimes her father came in to listen to her.
She wasn't the best up there, but, she wasn't the worst, either.
She thought that her voice was too high-too little girl. There were some things that she simply couldn't do with her voice.
She couldn't sound dirty, grindy, or throaty. She always sounded 'pretty' and 'cute,' and she hated it.
Yuffie tried walking past Rude swiftly.
But he gestured to her for a refill. She cursed to herself for noticing his wave from the corner of her eye.
Reluctantly, she approached him.
"Yes, sir?" She asked with a plastic smile, "Can I help you?"
"Yuh-huh-Yuh-Yuffie... Huh-hm-hi. You... probably... d... don't... huh-remember, n... me." Rude spoke painfully slow, trying his best to not stutter. He also spoke so softly, it was a near gentle whisper.
Yuffie hesitated, then stepped slightly closer, and turned her head as so her ear faced him.
She couldn't believe that after all of this time serving him, Rude finally spoke.
"I-knew your f-f-friend, Tifa. 'N, I liked her. A wh-whole lot. Yuffie."
Yuffie turned and looked at him.
In the dim bar light, Yuffie gazed into her stretched and bent reflection in his dark black sunglasses. Her wide hazel eyes went on into a mirrored infinity in a complex expression.
She pushed her hair away.
"Who are you, what's your name?" She asked back in a equally quiet tone.
"Ruh-Ruh..." He stopped, and bit his lips, "Rude."
"I... didn't know you... talked like that. I'm so sorry." Yuffie "I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you before I mean, I thought that you were just being creepy- ohmygod. Your... You were that Turk, I remember you, now! That was like six years ago! What are you doing here! Are you STALKING me?" Yuffie pulled away from him a few steps, and unconsciously clutched her white apron. "I can kick your ass, you know."
Rude shook his head, and didn't reply.
"Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Jus-just, stay back, Rude, I'm warning you."
"I-duh-don't wuh-want t-t-tih hurt you. I ju-ju-just w-wanted a beer. Uh-and... to talk."
"About what? What are we going to talk about? I can go get my manager. What do you want!?" Yuffie backed away. No one seemed to noticed their conversation at the bar under the dim light, the crowd, and the very bad, loud singing at the Karaoke stage.
"Uh-anything, Yuh-Yuffie."
She blinked, and didn't know what to say.
~
Volume III of the Sun series.
Reno bent down, and picked up the morning paper from his doorstep.
He was renting out a small section of an old man's house that had several additions put onto it; there was an added door, a kitchen, and a bathroom, as so whomever rented it- never had to see the old man that lived there.
Mrs. Fertino, the woman that lived above Reno, had the same deal.
The old man added a lot to his old house, as so he would have people's money coming in.
He made money without lifting a finger, such is the life of a landlord.
Reno had a makeshift front porch; it was one of the things added to his side of the house in Midgar.
"Hmmm..." A low rumble of thought purred in the back of his unshaven throat.
He stared at the headline news.
"Ex-Turk Once Declared Dead- Found Alive and Working for Shin-Ra."
It was a scandal headline.
Scandals sold papers.
Reno chuckled to himself.
The article was about Tseng.
In the photo, Tseng looked like he was completely reveling in his five minutes of fame. He was laughing, and smiling.
The caption under the photo read:
"Tseng tells all to journalist, Phoenix Down. Once declared dead, he now finds himself completely penniless. Now with one crippled arm, Tseng struggles back to the top at his new job in Shin-Ra HQ."
Reno stood and read the article top to bottom upon his shadowed, wooden porch.
His holy, striped boxer-shorts and baggy, brown bathrobe flapped in the dirty wind.
Morning joggers passed him by as he continued to read the paper. He paid little mind to them. Most of them were regulars to the earliest peaks of the hazy, Midgar dawn.
So when the man with the slicked black hair began to walk down the filthy street, Reno didn't notice.
"Ahoy, there, Reno!" The man stopped in his tracks, and called out to Reno.
Reno looked up, and narrowed his eyes a moment while names flew by his mind. He seemed familiar... The spotless, navy suit. The shiny black shoes. Combed, short, black hair. Certainly wasn't one who came by these Midgar sectors much. He was too much of a open target for mugging...
"Remember me?" The clean cut man called. "The grocery store!?"
Reno wrapped his uncut toenail about his calf, and itched himself.
Oh. Yeah, -- he thought. HIM.
"Oh, yeah, man, uh, hey." Reno lowered his paper loudly, and tucked it under his hairy armpit. He then reached into his bathrobe pocket for a pack of cigarettes.
The man approached Reno, but didn't climb up the saggy, flaking, porch steps.
"Top of the mornin' to ya." The man chirped happily as he placed his hand upon Reno's railing.
"I didn't catch your name before." Reno spoke while the orange tip of the cigarette became tucked between his teeth. He then took out his lighter.
"Oh, right! Reeve, Reeve from the Shin-Ra." Reeve followed Reno's glare.
It fell to Reeve's shiny shoe, which happened to be absently resting upon the first step of Reno's dilapidating, tiered-looking porch.
Reeve quickly recoiled his foot from Reno's step.
"We were never friends, Reeve. I don't know why your being all touchy-feely with me all of a sudden, frankly, I'm suspicious of what your motivation might be. What the fuck do you want, so I can get you off of my property." Reno lifted his chin, and looked down at Reeve coldly.
With a slow exhale, he squeezed the smoke from his lungs, the same way a finger squeezed the trigger of a gun.
Reeve suddenly felt small as he stood far lower than Reno on the polluted Midgar floor.
Reno's eyes were gem-green stones.
Reeve looked up to them, as if searching for something, words perhaps.
He found nothing in his fellow-man's dirty, dry face.
"Listen, Reno. We... we got something in common. We are more alike than you realize, really, we are. We both don't trust anyone, and both only use people for what they are worth, and then leave 'em. Neither one of us has a SIDE, really. I mean-"
"You know what, mother-fucker, Tseng spent his whole life tryin' to kill you, and I'm just sorry now to realize that he hasn't." Reno removed the cigarette from his lips, and directed his sharp, long index finger to Reeve forehead, emphasizing his point. "But I can make up for Tseng. I CAN kill you. I got a shut gun, right here behind my front door, mother-fucker, and if you don't get off my property in three seconds, I'm gunna reach back here, pull it out, and fill your head with lead, get my drift..." Reno flicked his cigarette ash onto Reeve's suit.
It exploded in a flurry of gray and black speckles.
Reeve paused, then brushed it away.
He tightened his black, thin, tie and cleared his throat. "Reno. Tseng works in the floor right below me. He's planning on killing you. I know. I overheard him through the ventilation system, near the Shin-Ra bathrooms. He's tried killing me, and I thought that if he worked together..." Reeve reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out the morning paper.
It was in a tight roll. As he held it, it un-folded like a scroll, revealing Tseng's picture and the headline.
"We could get him before he gets us."
Reno didn't say anything.
However, his arm reached backwards, pushing open his creaking front door.
While keeping solid eye-contact with Reeve, Reno grabbed his 'shot gun.'
Reeve simply turned around, and began walking away.
Reno didn't have a shot-gun. He bluffed. He grabbed his umbrella.
~
"Tifa, open the bloody door, I want to talk to you." Cloud wound his arms about his chest like two, thick, pink coils.
He had just about enough of this.
The arguing.
The fights.
It was always about the wedding plans.
Why did something so simple have to be so complicated? It was JUST a CEREMONY.
He heard her sobbing through the bedroom door as he stood in the hallway.
Cloud un-locked his arms, and looked at his digital watch. It was 11:32 PM already. She should be trying to sleep, not dragging on this argument-he thought.
"Tifa, come ON. Fine. Uhm. Listen. I'm SORRY, I was WRONG, ok?! Is that what you want to hear?"
"Just go away. Your only saying that. You don't mean it. Your just saying your-sniff-wrong, so I'll open the fuggin door. Sniff."
Cloud gave a forced, exasperated, sigh. He grunted, and threw back his head. 'Why are women so-' "Fine. Tifa. Your right. 'I'm only saying that so I'll open the door.' I DON'T think I'm right. I'm scum, ok? I'm SCUM, Tifa, you hear me!? SCUM!!!" Cloud screeched.
Then, there was silence.
Tifa giggled.
"I just, ok, listen, here is MY side of things, Tifa. I just don't think that OUR WEDDING is the TIME or PLACE for Vincent's memorial, ok? If YOU wan to mention him, that's FINE with me! Do what you want, I am just giving you MY OPINION."
"...I know." Tifa said as she leaned her back against the bedroom door. She then slid down, and sat on the floor.
"Just open the door, now, so I can get ready for bed, ok? I'm tiered. And I'm REALLY tiered of arguing these stupid little things with you. I just want to crawl into bed, and hold you, and..."
"Cloud?" Tifa gulped.
"...What now?" Cloud rubbed his temples.
"I think my water just broke..."
"Are you sure it's not another contraction?"
"There is SHIT, wet SHIT on the FLOOR Cloud. Under my legs."
"Oh. God. OPEN THE DOOR!"
"Uaaahhg.. Ah. It hurts. It's coming. Oh my god. Cloud."
"OPEN THE DOOR!"
"I can't!" Tifa cried. "I can't stand! Oh, Cloud, It hurts! I'm blocking the door, and I can't stand up! He'll fall out!"
"He WON'T fall out, Tifa, I promise, open the door!"
Tifa began to wail, and pant heavily. She remembered to breathe.
Cloud hammered on the door, screaming at her to move and open it. Finally, Tifa struggled enough out of the way for him to squeeze through.
Cloud, not owning a car, called 911.
The ambulance came, taking them both to the hospital.
It took Tifa over 27 hours of labor.
The baby boy was born in the earliest hours of the morning.
~
"Stars shining bright, above you. Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you.' Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me..."
"Boy, that Yuffie, I didn't think she'd EVER get over her stage fright."
"She's the queen of Karaoke."
"Shh!"
"...Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you, sweet dream, that leave your worries behind you, but in your dreams, whatever they'll be, dream a little dream of me!"
"She has the voice of an angel, so sweet, an innocent."
"Stars fading, but I linger on! Still craving your kiss! I'm longing to wait till dawn, dear, just craving your kiss. Sweet dreams till sunbeam find you, sweet dreams dear, that leave your worries behind, dear."
"Yeah, she sings, well, I mean, her voice is like a little girls, but, she can carry a tune."
"She IS a little girl." Dally snapped her towel across her shoulder as she spoke to the older man at the bar. The man didn't reply, he only stroked his mustache, then glanced to the triangular lighting on Yuffie.
"Dream a little dream of me!"
Rude hissed at the older man to keep quiet.
Yuffie knew that Rude was in the audience.
Butterflies fluttered and danced from her stomach into her throat. Her singing voice grew quieter. She was always nervous when he was around. There was something creepy about him.
Who was he? Why was he so familiar? Did he know her from somewhere?
Why did he keep requesting her as a server?
When Yuffie finished her song, the Karaoke announcer in a sparkling purple suit jacket came back and announced a woman and her husband onto the stage. They were going to sing, "Bohemian Rhapsody" badly.
Yuffie returned to work. Dally patted her shoulder.
She received more tips and compliments when she sang. The Karaoke machine was a new addition in the Wutai bar on Wednesday nights, she was making the most of it.
Sometimes her father came in to listen to her.
She wasn't the best up there, but, she wasn't the worst, either.
She thought that her voice was too high-too little girl. There were some things that she simply couldn't do with her voice.
She couldn't sound dirty, grindy, or throaty. She always sounded 'pretty' and 'cute,' and she hated it.
Yuffie tried walking past Rude swiftly.
But he gestured to her for a refill. She cursed to herself for noticing his wave from the corner of her eye.
Reluctantly, she approached him.
"Yes, sir?" She asked with a plastic smile, "Can I help you?"
"Yuh-huh-Yuh-Yuffie... Huh-hm-hi. You... probably... d... don't... huh-remember, n... me." Rude spoke painfully slow, trying his best to not stutter. He also spoke so softly, it was a near gentle whisper.
Yuffie hesitated, then stepped slightly closer, and turned her head as so her ear faced him.
She couldn't believe that after all of this time serving him, Rude finally spoke.
"I-knew your f-f-friend, Tifa. 'N, I liked her. A wh-whole lot. Yuffie."
Yuffie turned and looked at him.
In the dim bar light, Yuffie gazed into her stretched and bent reflection in his dark black sunglasses. Her wide hazel eyes went on into a mirrored infinity in a complex expression.
She pushed her hair away.
"Who are you, what's your name?" She asked back in a equally quiet tone.
"Ruh-Ruh..." He stopped, and bit his lips, "Rude."
"I... didn't know you... talked like that. I'm so sorry." Yuffie "I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you before I mean, I thought that you were just being creepy- ohmygod. Your... You were that Turk, I remember you, now! That was like six years ago! What are you doing here! Are you STALKING me?" Yuffie pulled away from him a few steps, and unconsciously clutched her white apron. "I can kick your ass, you know."
Rude shook his head, and didn't reply.
"Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Jus-just, stay back, Rude, I'm warning you."
"I-duh-don't wuh-want t-t-tih hurt you. I ju-ju-just w-wanted a beer. Uh-and... to talk."
"About what? What are we going to talk about? I can go get my manager. What do you want!?" Yuffie backed away. No one seemed to noticed their conversation at the bar under the dim light, the crowd, and the very bad, loud singing at the Karaoke stage.
"Uh-anything, Yuh-Yuffie."
She blinked, and didn't know what to say.
~
