Chapter 10

It was still grey and damp when the ship pulled along the coast towards Junon harbour. The worst of the rain had already fallen, coating the decks, the rails, the doors and most of the passengers with at least a thin sheen of dew. The air was cool and fresh, and a slight breeze eddied across the ship's deck. From his new spot at the prow, Reno watched attentively as the ship came slowly closer to its destination. The water churned behind the ship, dark and grey as the clouds overhead.

There was something about his posture – a little too straight and attentive – that gave away his tension. His jacket was wrapped tightly around him to keep out the cold, and his hands were buried tightly in his pockets. Eyes never wavering, he watched Junon, assessing, calculating. The lines under his eyes only served to highlight the hard set to his gaze.

The city of Junon sat broodingly ahead, its usually festive appearance dulled down by the weather and the chill. Lights filtered out into the damp, empty streets here and there, giving it an air of abandonment. The city hunched along the coastline, relishing the access to free water it had never really been allowed to enjoy before. Tall buildings rose here and there, in dozens of different colors that all looked depressingly similar under the overcast sky. Most of them provided housing for residents, but they had begun to separate out into distinct districts as well. Unlike Midgar, however, the city remained as a whole. The only difference from before was that if one wanted to shop, all the stores could be found in a certain area. It was practical and simple, making life a little more certain in these days that needed stability.

The upper layer of Junon had been dismantled almost immediately following Meteor. Reno had been there to see it, slightly curious in a morbid fashion as to the death of the final Shinra stronghold. And it had been an event to see. The streets had filled with construction tools and colours; hundreds of people from all around had come to cheer and celebrate as the upper military base had been torn down, beam by beam.

Reno had returned to Midgar afterwards, and had gone back to concentrating on staying out of sight. More so than ever. He had convinced himself that everything would be okay because they were Turks, and they always stuck together, through thick or thin. Then Elena and Rude had announced they were leaving, and he'd been stuck behind in the dark to deal with the enforced invisibility and the hatred all by himself.

Did he consider it abandonment? Of course they'd asked him to go with him, and had pleaded with him to reconsider. He couldn't possibly believe it was anything other than necessity that had taken them away, couldn't blame them. And as the ship finally began its long pull up into Junon harbour, Reno repeated it to himself over and over, in the silence of his head.

He stood tall as he watched the sharp metal of the ship's hull narrowly avoid scraping along the edge of the dock, and watched with some quiet amusement as eager kids out to make a gil or two milled about in search of someone needing help. He scanned their faces – several of them waved to him or gestured – but none of them were familiar. He was glad.

The unloading and disembarking would take a little while, although Reno was counting on the fact that he had no luggage to speed it up. He needed none. He had money, and had access to more money, so whatever he needed, he'd buy. It was one of the few things he took pride in that he placed no sentimental value in objects or places. It was a Turk's life to constantly be moving from place to place, and although Midgar had been his more or less permanent home for going on way-too-many years now, he hadn't lost his edge yet. In fact, he was rather glad to see the familiar cobbled streets and chaotic wharfs.

Unlike Midgar, which had been rebuilt from the ground up, literally, Junon had changed little in spirit. Less oppressed, true, but looking around he knew this place and was intensely glad to see it again. He couldn't wait to feel the pavement under his feet and the wide streets all around him. He wanted to see the cheap rooms, the cheaper taverns, the places he'd slept, drank and worked. The change of scenery was welcome, although he pushed away the implications. What did it matter? He was here, and that was what was important.

There was much to be done, and Reno had little idea how much time he'd have to do it in. He had no information, reliable or otherwise, and only a vague sense that time was probably of the essence. Again, no matter how pressing it was, it was always better to be safe. A quick, casual stroll in the relevant areas was definitely in order, and maybe some careful questions. To be honest with himself, he had no idea what he was looking for or even where, only that Rude and Elena owned a flower shop in the commercial area and were possibly in danger.

The flower shop had almost killed him when he'd heard. He'd laughed so hard that he'd almost cried. The telegram giving him the news had sat on his kitchen table for near on three weeks before he'd had the heart to do something about it. The strange twisting feeling it gave him whenever he saw it had been disconcerting, but neither had he been able to bring himself to throw it out. It had been the last three words that had been the problem, he knew.

'Come home, Reno.'

He'd made up his mind to burn the damn thing, one day, but after lighting the fire he'd been unable to do it. It had been puzzling, if nothing else. So, one day, he'd simply folded it, and stuck it in his jacket pocket on his way out the door. It had been a windy day in late October, and he'd taken a small detour on his way to a meeting with a client. A quick hop, skip and a climb away had found him on top of a bridge overlooking the city limits. He'd stared, taken out the telegram, stared at that for a while, and then slowly let it go. Reno had watched as it had flown away, almost torn out of his hand, not caring where it went. Then he'd turned, left, and had directed his attention to not being late for his meeting.

It all seemed rather fucked up, he reflected. Then again, he was pretty sure he was the one who was fucked up and not the world, but after further consideration he decided it was probably a bit of both. He didn't let it bug him much.

The ship finally came to screeching halt, and Reno's eyes reflected the dark blue of everything around him. He listened as the whistle screeched, telling all the passengers to stay clear until docking was complete. After that though, they'd be ashore. And once they were ashore, Reno, like everyone else, had some places and people to visit.

As the door closed behind her with a cheerful click, Tifa switched off the outside light and smiled.

The morning light streamed faintly in through the windows, most of the clouds thinned and disappearing here in Midgar. It had rained hard the day before, but the night had been quiet and peaceful and the morning looked promising. It was ten o'clock and already Tifa had been out and down to the market. She'd correctly assumed Deth would not be awake for a while, and Cloud wouldn't be by until a little later.

Making her way into the small kitchen, Tifa eased the large brown grocery bags onto the counter top before returning to the front door for a moment to slip off her jacket and shoes. Her hair was tied back at the bottom in her favourite, easy style, and she brushed some dark strands behind her ear as she moved. A quick rifle through the bags produced the products of the morning's shopping, and she smiled as she put them all away. The cupboards swung open and shut as she moved, and soon everything was in order.

The small house was like any of the others in the area, indistinguishable at first or second glance from any of the others lining her street. That was why she liked it so much. It was a small two-story home with white sides and a dark shingled roof, three bedrooms and a small backyard. She had no desire to live in the upscale models of the high-class areas of Sector 1, preferring instead the small, close, anonymity of these suburbs. Reeve understood, as did Cloud. They all understood. Cloud had chosen, surprisingly, to live not far away. His own house resembled Tifa's a great deal in its small size and lack of notability.

Tifa worked quietly, taking eggs, milk, and flour and combining them in a metal bowl. She hummed softly as she worked. Neither she nor Cloud was home often, it was true, but that made her appreciate the small house even more when she got to come back to it. Both of them spent days, sometimes weeks at a time at the latest construction effort, helping as best as they were able. It seemed that everywhere there were projects underway that needed them, and Tifa found it amazing, though exhausting, work.

Right now it was Midgar that was once again the project. In a bid to give Tifa and Cloud a little time off, Reeve had proposed that they take a month or so to return to Midgar and help plan some new directions for the city to take. Both of them had tiredly and gratefully agreed. It was exactly the chance for rest that Tifa had been looking forward to, even if Cloud was finding it more difficult.

They both attended the strategy and planning meetings, taking great pleasure in seeing the new buildings go up or a new generator being put in. Cloud, of course, had taken to this the way he had taken to everything else. Tifa watched fondly and a little worriedly as he threw himself into project after project, often spending nights in meetings with the President. Reeve was amazing at what he did, Tifa recognized, but he never seemed to be able to slow down. The entire city, or perhaps the Planet, seemed like a racetrack and once you gained momentum there was no way to slow down.

And so Tifa always took the time to appreciate mornings like this. She loved being able to just do everyday things in her own little house the way she'd always wanted to. For many it seemed a strange way for a member of the almighty AVALANCHE to pass their time, but to Tifa it was just about heaven.

The smell of cooking pancakes was what greeted Deth when he finally came down the stairs, yawning. He'd gratefully spent the afternoon of the day before with Cloud and Tifa, and they'd taken him down to their favourite restaurant for lunch. When he'd expressed a shy interest in seeing Midgar, they'd been delighted and had whiled away the hours showing him the local sights and smells. When they'd finally returned to Tifa's, the boy had disappeared upstairs to 'settle in', and when Tifa had gone up to see if he was alright he'd already been fast asleep.

Deth realized, as his stomach growled, that he was rather hungry. He reached the bottom of the stairs and followed the sounds of imminent breakfast towards the kitchen. The sight of Tifa setting out three plates, as well as the smell of bacon greeted him. Tifa looked up, her smile widening.

"Good morning. Hope you slept well."

Deth nodded, and returned the smile.

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry I fell asleep like that. I guess I was more tired than I thought."

Tifa laughed, and gestured to the table.

"Don't worry about it. I figured this would wake you up, either way. Cloud's always said that for my breakfast, he'd come back from the dead."

The sound of someone knocking on the door made them both laugh, and Tifa excused herself before disappearing around the corner towards the door. Still somewhat sleepy, Deth took a seat at the table and listened as he heard Tifa open the door.

"Cloud! What a surprise." Laughter.

"I knew that if I got here early enough I'd be in time for breakfast. Hope I'm not bothering you."

"You're always welcome, you know that."

There was the sound of slight movement, and then silence for a few moments. Finally, he heard Tifa's voice again.

"So, you coming in for breakfast, or what?"

"You couldn't keep me away if you tried."

Deth watched them come in, and smiled to see Cloud.

"Hey, Cloud! G'morning."

Cloud laughed softly and winked.

"I see you and I both had the exact same idea." He turned to Tifa, still smiling. "Need any help?"

She smiled, and shook her head.

"Thanks, but no. You're timing's gotten too good for me, Cloud. Just grab a chair.

"Oh, I'm sure I can help somehow."

Looping an arm around Tifa's waist, Cloud snatched a piece of bacon before stepping back quickly and making for the table. Tifa sighed, unable to stop from grinning. She tried to ignore Cloud's triumphant eating of the bacon as she piled plates in front of them. Finally, she sat down between Deth and Cloud, managing a pretence of anger at Cloud for about a whole thirty seconds.

The three ate breakfast together and made plans for the day. Cloud had to drop in at the cleanup of an area of Sector 4 that still had ruins of several old buildings that posed a health risk to everyone in the locale. He'd be back by one, however, so they decided to hit the market after. Tifa offered to pick up some new clothes for Deth while he was staying with them, as he had nothing of his own. He felt guilty, but Tifa insisted.

Deth had also taken the opportunity to ask if he could send his parents a message telling them he was alright. The new telephone lines didn't even span the continent yet, let alone to the west, so he had no other way to get in contact with them. Both Cloud and Tifa enthusiastically agreed, and Cloud promised to see the message sent off as soon as that afternoon if Deth finished writing it before they left.

After breakfast, Tifa got Cloud back by roping him into cleanup, and told Deth to explore the living room and see if he could find a book he wanted. She smiled, and he left the kitchen with an odd feeling.

Tifa's living room was small but comfortable, and he felt a little out of place in it. It had a TV in one corner, and book shelves against the adjacent wall. He scanned it, searching for something that would catch his eye, and ended up instead just taking in the room and its various decorations. He noticed several pictures on an eye-level shelf off to one side, and headed towards them. The shelf itself was a little dusty, but the pictures were obviously well looked after.

There were a range of different subjects, and he examined each one in order. On the far left was a picture of a young man and woman, standing together very formally. It was in black and white. The woman looked very much like Tifa, and Deth decided they must be Tifa's parents. The next picture was one of a group of children, smiling somewhat evilly as they obviously fought for place in the photo. To the right, a small girl with long dark hair and large ruby eyes was holding up two fingers behind the head of a boy he didn't recognize, grinning from ear to ear.

The next photo he knew better, although he had only met one person in it. A middle aged man with cropped blond hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips was falling forward while a young woman with brown hair, large brown eyes and the most wicked smile he'd ever seen hung on to his back, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. In the back, watching quietly, Deth could just make out Vincent.

From the kitchen, Cloud and Tifa's animated discussion dropped a tone, and unconsciously Deth tuned in. He felt bad about eavesdropping on anyone who'd been so kind to him, particularly Cloud and Tifa, but he couldn't help his own curiosity. He heard as Tifa set a dish on the counter, and was silent for a moment.

"…I think we have to talk."

Cloud was silent for a minute too, and Deth could hear the sound of a dish being placed carefully in the drying rack. When Cloud spoke, his voice was playful.

"What's to talk about, Tif? That's all you want to do lately."

"Cloud," Tifa's voice was quiet. "I'm serious. Please."

"I'm serious too. There's really nothing to talk about. You're just being paranoid."

"Cloud… I…"

"It's getting late. You can tell me after."

"Are you afraid? Is that the problem?"

Footsteps.

"Look, I'm sorry Tifa, but I really have to go. They're expecting me at a quarter to twelve and I'm going to be late unless I hurry."

"You're always running away. Why won't you just talk to me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've really got to go. We'll talk later."

The sound of the door opening and closing was followed by silence. Trying not to hear Tifa holding her breath in the next room, Deth forced himself to go back to the pictures.

The largest picture stood out, in a carefully dusted silver frame. Deth looked at it, and he knew instantly that it must mean a lot to Tifa. A large group of people stood in a line, all smiling, several of them striking funny poses. Cloud and Tifa stood at one end of the picture, both smiling, and Cloud's arm was around Tifa's shoulders. Next to them stood a huge dark skinned man holding a little girl, the guy with the cigarette, a large, white stuffed moogle with a black cat on its head, the girl with the evil smile (making a dramatic ninja pose), a sleek, red lion-like creature with a scar across one eye, and last but not least, Vincent. Even the dark gunner was smiling, and they all looked very happy. The background, Deth noted, was Gold Saucer.

The last picture on the shelf was smaller, though it also had a simple, silver frame. This one showed only two people, and Deth picked it softly up off the shelf to examine it. One figure he recognized as Cloud, and the other was new to him. It was a young woman who wore a long pink dress and a bright red jacket. She was very pretty, he thought, with her long brown hair tied back in a braid and done up with a ribbon. She had amazing green eyes, and she smiled as though nothing in the world could ever go wrong while waving at the photographer. Cloud, standing next to her, was obviously trying, and failing, to conceal a smile.

When Tifa came in to find Deth, the picture was sitting on her coffee table. She started a little before walking towards it. A quick look around assured her Deth was not in the room and slowly she picked the picture up carefully. She smiled softly as she looked at it, brushing a finger quietly across it before gently setting it back on the shelf beside the others.

Turning around, a sudden, and later she supposed irrational, fear hit her. Her eyes widened, and she ran for the door.

"Deth? Deth!"

He did not answer, for he was no longer there.