Needless to say, Reno was not in the best of moods after his confrontation with the man he'd once considered his best friend. A trip back to Yuffie's with no new information and no explanation of who he had met that wouldn't prosecute the Turks felt like a death march, so instead he simply wandered around the city with his hands in his pockets and his head down. The last thing he needed, he thought idly, was to get picked up and drug to Godo as a potential assassin of the Pagoda leaders. That would probably end up as the world's shortest trial, lasting just long enough for the sword stroke to fall across the back of his neck.

After the debacle a little over a week ago, he was too recognizable in the market place, so he decided to go to the part of the town that he was used to staying when he had come to Wutai as part of business- the closest thing the city had to slums. Not that they were particularly run down... certainly not to the extent the lower levels of Midgar were, the presumptuous lords of the country would never allow such a blemish on their lands. Still, actions speak louder than words, or looks at it may be, and when you could buy a cheap, cracked piece of materia from a trench coat wearing man in the middle of a street that required the upmost concentration just to light a candle... well, the word 'slums' just popped into mind.

It wasn't exactly that he felt at home in this sort of place, he simply felt the least exiled... in a land where anything goes, certainly a red haired former assassin who carries a lightning generator under his jacket would be accepted. It was a nice thought, but it wasn't so. In the land of the dried out husks of humanity, the slightest flame was feared, and Reno's eyes blazed whether he bid them to or not. Depressingly, even among the criminals he stuck out like a sore thumb.

After the third gathering of self proclaimed thugs had shuffled across the streets to avoid contact with him as he walked down the roads, he'd stopped looking up ahead, assuming that the way would be cleared for him. So it was that when Yuffie Kisaragi rounded a corner, glancing suspiciously over a corner, the two almost collided with enough force to down them both, an event stopped only by a sudden gleam of sun off earring that caught Reno's eye.

"Yuffie?" he asked in surprise, drawing her attention and shocking her a good deal more than he himself had been to see her here. For a brief moment, he thought her jaw was actually going to drop, but she quickly regained her exposure and set her feet and her chin. "What are you doing here?"

"I," she said with a flourish, as if reveling in the way she set herself alone in the sentence, "am trying to find some information out on who the assassin may be."

"Really?" Reno raised a single eyebrow in surprise, glancing around the street almost as if worried that someone had overheard her bold statement. "And here I thought that was my job."

"Yeah?" Yuffie said instantly, taking on the direct air of a predator who had just found the opening it was seeking, "so did I." Before Reno could even attempt to comprehend the bizarre turn their conversation had just taken, Yuffie turned a cold shoulder to him and began to stalk down the street, heading deeper into the unsavory territory of Wutai's makeshift slums.

Needless to say, he charged after her, inwardly wondering if this was 'make random, pissy comments to Reno' day. If he had needed something to remind him of why he hadn't gone into a charity business, this day had come through in spades, reminding him quite plainly that you take more shit when trying to help people out than when you have them locked in the center of your crosshairs. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, not caring that a few snickers came from across the street as he was seen following Yuffie like an angry father. Not caring *much*, anyway.

"It means," she growled at him, not lessening her pace or even looking at him, "that between sneaking out of bed like I'm some last call reject, and clearing your stuff from my house, I didn't assume you had much time for investigation."

"Clearing my stuff from your house?" Reno mimicked in disbelief, "everything I own in the world, I'm fucking wearing. Did I own a bookcase or something that mysteriously disappeared? It's windy, so I brought my coat, and I brought my EMR because I'm a guy and it's shaped like a dick. Oh, and of course there's the fact *why does it even matter*?"

Shaking her head in disgust, Yuffie sped up, but Reno matched her stride easily. This was no race through the night to an endangered mans home, and the former Turk was as angry as she now. "It doesn't," she spat at him, "it doesn't matter. At all. I just can't believe you had the gall to pretend you were trying to play the good guy for once."

Reno's mind reeled. This was what had kept him awake all night, running his fingers through raven colored hair while mentally berating himself? This was what had almost driven him to smash a funnel of green glass over the bare skull over a man who had saved his life over a half dozen times, and vice versa? He was an idiot for even assuming this might work. "Pretend?" he snapped, "Pretend? Do you have any idea where I was today?"

"No," she responded truthfully, "but I know where you weren't. And that's all that matters to me."

And with a sudden sinking feeling, like a stab to the ribs, Reno knew he was sunk. He had opened the door and she walked right through it, there was nothing he could say back to a line like that which didn't make him look like... what? Himself? What the fuck was wrong with him? His feet caught on the side walk, and instead of stumbling forward he simply stopped, staring in disbelief as Yuffie continued to march resolutely forward, slowly disappearing from sight. Snarling in frustration, Reno spun around, and found the softest nearest thing to him- which happened to be a rusted old mail box.

With a growl that was almost primal, he slammed his fist into the dirty green metal, crumpling the construct around his fist like it was tinfoil. A sudden explosion of pain in all four of his main fingers signaled that odds are he would be walking around in a cast for the next few weeks, but he didn't really car. He wanted to pull out his EMR and fry the nearest person, kick a tree down and stomp it to death, light something on fire and use it to light something *else* ablaze.

And then, it a sudden impactful understanding, a click that happened in his mind and rushed all the way down into his chest, his anger melted away and was replaced by worry. An intelligent tactician in her own right, Yuffie's anger was obviously steering her actions more than her mind as she continued her vigilante search. She was searching for an assassin by going into his own territory, an act which was stupid enough without the standing fact that *she was a target*. A mouse hunting a cat was bad enough, but doing it in a litter box was suicide.

Exhaling deeply, Reno realized it was decision time. He could move on as he had been doing for the last year, simply jump aboard a ship and make his way back to bigger cities... or he could chase after Yuffie, and go through the agony of putting down anchor once and for all. Groaning, he sprinted down the street, and hoped she hadn't made too many turns off the road.

***

Still fuming, Yuffie turned left, practically chewing through the inside of her cheek. She had no idea what Reno had been doing in the lower class district of Wutai, but she didn't like any of the possible implications. Did he have a home there? An apartment that he had been planning to slink back to all along after he had achieved... whatever his goal had been?

Or is it possible, a mean little voice spoke up in the back of her head, speaking with the venomous backing of logic, that he was doing the same thing that you were doing? Searching for answers, searching for the killer, or killers? She probably should have heard him out when he tried to give an explanation for his early morning retreat, but if she had heard him use the word 'space' or 'mistake' just once, that would have been it. She would have had to kill him.

She groused onwards, becoming rapidly aware of the fact that she rarely visited this part of her native city. She felt a little guilty to that effect, even as an unwilling princess she should be courteous enough to give all areas equal attention, but she couldn't really be blamed. It wasn't like anything was offered here of value, even the brand name items at low, low, impossible to be legal prices being something she much preferred to steal herself rather than buy from another thief.

Yuffie went to round another corner, only to be confronted by a pair of hushed voices, stopping her dead in her tracks. Out of all things, she most wanted to be left alone, and walking in on a shady deal would lead to the long exposure of an armed arrested. Besides, one of the voices was distinctly feminine, and one of the few crimes- such as shoplifting- that Yuffie thought was too low grade to punish was prostitution.

"I just don't see why we're waiting around here," the girl piped up, the volume of her voice heightened by indignation, and with sudden dart of shock Yuffie recognized it. It was a voice that she hadn't heard for years, since a subway station below Midgar where her and the other members of Avalanche sent the owner of the voice scurrying away under an onslaught of bullets and sword strokes. With wide eyes, Yuffie sidled against the wall, and peered around the corner.

Two people stood in the clearing, as the overheard conversation would indicate. The man was pale, his silky black hair falling back over his shoulders and dipping down into the raised collar of his shirt. Though his back was to Yuffie, the features of the woman told the thief all the she knew. Short cut blonde hair curved around delicate cheeks, and nervous eyes wavered back and forth, never quite managing to meet those of the man she was speaking to.

Both were wearing navy blue suits, the color dulled with age.

Yuffie slid back around the corner and fell back against the wall, breathing hard. Now she had a pretty good idea of where Reno had been that morning, though she doubted it was where he would have told her. There was no way that with all his phone calls, all his visits, all his so-called pulled strings he wouldn't have heard that the people he was seeking were in such close proximity. That son of a bitch...

She couldn't take them both. As prideful as Yuffie was, she could figure that out just by the gleam of guns around the waists of both Turks. She would go back, back to the decent part of the city, find her father and tell him everything. He would have these people rounded up within hours, and as far as Reno goes... well, if he was stupid enough to allow himself to get caught as well, he deserved what he got. She began to walk off, distracted by her thoughts, not as quiet as she should have been.

"Hey, I think someone's there..." came a voice, and then she was off, running, hoping against the odds that she would be able to backtrack the random route she had taken to get here. Her feet smacked loudly against the ground as she fled, so even if the man walking down the street in the opposite direction was the sort who made noise, she wouldn't have heard him. As it was, she didn't, and was within ten feet of the well muscled man before looking up.

"Rude?" she asked in what was almost in a gasp, stopping dead.

He froze at her words, and even behind his sunglasses she could tell his eyes had widened in surprise. His fingers were playing on the handle of his pistol as he opened his mouth- maybe in surprise and maybe to speak- but she was taking off against before it became clear which, realizing she was now outrunning not only another man but a potential bullet to the back of the neck. Rude watched her flee for a moment, and then with a resolute sigh took after her, running with the speed of a professional linebacker.

Already winded, Yuffie knew she didn't have a the slightest chance of escaping a fresh pursuer, but that didn't stop her from putting everything she had into her flight. If they were going to catch her, well, they were going to work for it. She ducked down another alley way and saw, to her eternal relief, that it lead to the main road of the district. It brought her considerable less pleasure, however, when she felt her foot catch on God-knows-what sort of trash, and she went sprawling onto the ground, slicing her palms up considerably.

Rude was there in a second, but he didn't come alone, a streak of black meeting the streak of blue from the other end of the alleyway. Of course there was a little mix of red and white in there, but that didn't change the result of the collision at all. Rude's own momentum took his off his feet as a lowered shoulder struck him in the chest, and drove him down into the ground like a professional. Things got exponentially more amateurish as the tackler himself slipped and fell backwards, but that did none to dull the surprise and confusion of Yuffie Kisaragi.

"Reno!?" she cried. "You... I..."

"Go!" he exploded from his less than dignified position on the ground, as if his instruction should have been obvious. Realizing that indeed it should have been, Yuffie took off once again, wondering why so much in her life required running since she had met the red haired Turk. Rude, seeming to feel that capture had just become impossible, watched her go before slowly dragging himself to his feet. Rubbing his back painfully, Reno did the same, and the bald man fixed him with a long, slow look.

"What," he remarked calmly, "the fuck was that about?"

"Figured it would be better for her health if she got away," Reno remarked, wiping the dirt of the ground off of him. "You run like a girl."

"Why exactly would it be better for her health?" Rude asked, forcing himself to ignore Reno's tacked on comment. Before Reno could even consider answering, three gun shots rang out, not loud enough to be aimed at them but close enough that it was within the running distance of the Wutain girl. Reno stared at Rude, his jaw dropped, and Rude shot a blank stare right back.

"Sorry," Reno muttered, and leapt forward. He batted Rude's arm to the side and seized hold of the pistol the man wore on his hip, ripping it free of its holster but not raising the barrel. He adjusted his aim a half inch and fired, causing Rude to cry out in pain as his right foot exploded in blood in shredded leather. The bald Turk crumpled around his injured appendage, and without another word Reno sprinted off in the direction of the previous shots, the gun still in hand, not exactly sure what he would find.

Not exactly sure he wanted to know.