By Ktrenal
Chapter Fifteen - Resolutions Of Mind
It was, to say the least, something of a relief to leave the hospital. While still somewhat bruised and delicate to the touch, and more than a little sore in places, he was recovered enough to feel restless and bored while contained within a single building. He'd never been one to rest once his mind had decided he was well enough to be up and about; even if his body still felt the effects of his injuries, the moment he was no longer actually feeling sorry for himself he wanted to get moving.
Of course, this rarely seemed to coincide with the opinions of whatever doctors were responsible for his well-being, at least not at first. It took a very particular kind of behaviour in order to allow Reno to convince them otherwise, although he had to admit feeling a little... odd about practicing such an attitude here. The staff of this particular hospital had actually taken a genuine concern for him, rather than the pseudo interest resulting from the money paid to them by Shinra. Anyone could pretend to care about him when they were being paid enough, but as far as the Turk could tell, these people were paid virtually nothing. They did this mostly because they cared about people, and money was only a secondary concern.
So he'd felt perhaps a little guilt at being deliberately irritating so they'd release him sooner. That was a new sensation for him entirely, and it was one he wasn't too happy with. All the more reason to go home, really. Back to the future, where he didn't get tied down with the various emotional issues that went along with manipulating or upsetting those who were quite genuinely only wanting to help him.
It left him with the rather disquieting sensation that perhaps connecting a life support machine to the coffee maker hadn't actually been a very nice thing to do to these people. The widespread panic through the hospital when the device had reported its 'patient' to be deceased, despite the apparent presence of three fully functional hearts had been somewhat amusing, but the look on the pretty female nurse's face when what he'd done was discovered was nothing short of upsetting.
And that, more than anything, had very much disturbed the young red-head. He'd often been chastised for various pranks, often been severely yelled at and punished, and on occasions even slapped, in the case of releasing a bucket of frogs into Elena's apartment for a reason he could no longer remember. It had made sense at the time, and he'd taken the furious slap he'd received from the blonde Turk in good humour.
But no one had ever looked at him like he'd done something truly 'bad' on a very basic level. It wasn't hatred, or pity, or even contempt. The only thing that came even close to it was the look of disappointment on Tseng's face when Reno did something unusually stupid for a monumentally idiotic reason. He'd only seen that look once or twice before, but it was definitely similar to the expressions of the people here.
Similar, but not exactly. Later that day the doctor had told him he was well enough to leave, and he should do so as quickly as possible. He'd sounded almost angry, almost disappointed, and something else Reno was unable to define. It was like they'd wanted him to stay, simply because they were so naturally compassionate, and yet they considered him now as something mildly distasteful. Corrupted, or contaminated, perhaps.
And so it was a very unsettled Turk that had gathered his scant belongings, which had become liberally spread across the room he'd been staying in, and packed them once again into his stolen backpack. With that pack slung clumsily across his back, he'd left the hospital, the proverbial going forth and such. Oddly, he hadn't felt able to look back, either.
It was a fairly quiet day in Midgar, it seemed. There were few people wandering the streets, and even the factories seemed to be eerily silent. Occasionally there was the roar of a passing vehicle, or the wark of a chocobo, but otherwise all was fairly quiet. At a guess, Reno surmised it was a Sunday, and so unlike the world he knew, this one was taking its day of rest.
Again it showed how things had changed, as in his time Sundays were treated very much like any other day of the week, with all the shops open, and even the Shinra building a veritable hive of bustling activity. Time never stopped, so why should work? But here, whatever had happened to cause such an attitude hadn't yet taken place, and so the whole city, and likely the entire world, came more or less to a standstill one day in every seven.
This did make things a little difficult for him, however, since it seemed probable that the people he'd want to be speaking with about going home would also be taking a day off, and wouldn't be amenable to discussing such matters with him. This meant he was faced with at least a twenty four hour delay on his return to his own time, but then, he'd already been slowed down by a week.
It was beginning to occur to him now that perhaps getting home wasn't going to be as simple a matter as he'd first anticipated, and it was with more than a little irritation that he mentally admonished himself for nothing thinking it through properly to begin with. Of course simply reaching Midgar wouldn't be enough to take him home, and he'd been an idiot to think otherwise. This was a problem that was going to require some intelligence and planning.
So perhaps the delay was now an advantage, time for him to think things through and form some kind of strategy. Things he was perfectly capable of, but nevertheless often avoided. But, while improvisation had brought him this far, there was only so much it could do for him, and so for that reason it was time to consider things under a new light.
Reno began to walk, pacing calmly up the street with his gaze turned down towards the paved path before him. He didn't know the city well enough at all to truly think about where he was going, so he simply walked. His feet could make the immediate decisions of direction, while his mind took care of the much harder task of the problem of returning home, which seemed to loom ominously above his head, somewhat like the storm clouds in his dreams of the last week. Those dreams, by themselves, seemed to strip away his ability to think clearly, though. It was difficult to focus on going home when some part of his mind seemed to feel he was missing something important.
The trouble was, he couldn't understand it, not yet. He could only comprehend things when the evidence was visible to him, and it certainly seemed like he was supposed to be seeing something else. And while worrying about it wasn't getting him home, Reno couldn't simply forget it. Such dreams were always meant to mean something, and so understanding them would be a vital step. Perhaps that understanding would give him what he needed to return to his own time.
Maybe that was it? It was so simple he'd almost overlooked it, but perhaps the dreams were the product of his mind, or the butterflies, trying to show him how to get home. In which case, the pursuit of understanding was the real task that lay ahead of him. He had the answer, somewhere in his mind, it seemed; it was simply just a little out of reach, beyond the grasp of his mind.
That was indicative of the confidence Reno held in his own intelligence, the certainty that he could think his own way out of this problem, without having to look for help. Or then again, perhaps he was simply trying to convince himself he didn't require assistance to get home, an after effect of the events in the hospital. It wasn't that he felt guilty, because one such as him never did, but a general uneasiness was perhaps a more accurate description. The kind of sensation that nudged the darkest parts of his conscience, and pointed out that even if he didn't feel any remorse for his actions, there were some things that simply weren't right.
But, it always had been a Turk's prerogative to hold on to a small part of their morality; none of them would ever harm another loyal Turk, for they were almost family to each other. And never would they cause injury to their own family, or that of their colleagues. There were a few scruples that even a Turk was entitled to. Reno very much doubted that feeling uneasy about abusing the innocent was one of them.
He had, in the course of his career, killed many, many innocents. Almost too many to count, he reflected in a quiet, totally emotionless manner. He didn't care that he'd killed them, except perhaps in the very early days. He'd been younger then, and naive. Years of life in the Midgar Slums and then within the Turks had soon cured him of that particular problem, and he had, on occasions, been known to remark that no one in Midgar was truly innocent. Everyone was guilty of something.
Reno believed that too. It was why he'd not fully believed the almost child-like innocence of the Cetra girl; no one could realistically be that pure. It just didn't happen in Midgar. Therefore, if no one was innocent, then there could be no harming of those who'd done no wrong. It was these kinds of thoughts that had dominated his thoughts in the beginning, long before he'd become a Turk. There was no innocence, no purity, merely the struggle to survive and to rise above the rest.
Which brought him back to this particular situation. These people, while probably not pure or innocent, because people like that simply did not exist in Reno's mind, they weren't struggling to push themselves to the top of the proverbial pile. They weren't out entirely for their own gain, and it was this, he surmised, that made him uneasy about using and manipulating them.
He allowed a quiet, derisive snort, and kicked at a small stone that happened to present itself to his foot. He must be getting soft, that was the only explanation for all this. The last few months of working in the supermarket, apparently for the 'common good', whatever that was supposed to be, had taken his edge. That was something he'd have to see to when he got home. If he didn't do something about it, before he realised what was happening, he'd be hugging trees, drinking spring water, and teaching cute little kids how to knit.
Maybe, to celebrate going home, he'd do something really stupidly destructive. He'd plant a bomb in that accursed stack of canned beans. Assuming he still had a job, that was.
Now why the hell was he worrying about that? He really was going soft. It was disgusting, it truly was, and Reno decided that at some point in the near future, he'd have to get in touch with his inner Turk once more. No more settling down and trying to live the kind of life that would make people tolerate him; no more living like everyone else on the Planet, and trying to pretend that Shinra had never existed. This was who he was, and he was proud of that. All of it.
No regrets. Never any regrets. That had been the key to his life for such a long time, and he'd let that diminish somewhat, overwhelmed by the expectations of the society in which he'd been landed after the incident with Meteor.
Reno paused in his steps, thinking about this for a moment. It wasn't what the butterfly had intended for him to understand, but nevertheless, it seemed significant to him. He was going to do whatever he had to in order to get home, and if that meant stepping on people's toes, manipulating and abusing them, then so be it. No more uneasiness; that kind of thing was for the novice hero, not the experienced Turk. Morality, as always, was a matter of choice.
He lifted his head, tossing it in a confidant, arrogant manner, and letting the movement throw errant bangs of blood red hair out of his eyes. His uneasiness and sense of discomfort departed, passing away from him into the bright morning sunshine that beamed down at him.
So, he was going to go home. At the moment, he couldn't understand how to do it, although clearly the method was what his dreams were trying to tell him; that was the only explanation he could think of, after all. In order to figure out exactly what it was he was supposed to do, he needed to talk to someone who had at least a partial understanding of magic and time. They wouldn't need to know everything, simply enough for Reno to discuss it with them and bounce ideas around. It was very unlikely there was anyone in this world that could tell him what he needed to know, but they might be able to give him the place to start looking.
And since he wasn't being concerned about what these people would like for him to do, and wasn't worrying about being the generic 'nice guy', there was no reason why he couldn't start searching for this person now. After all, people here were so compassionate and helpful that they would help him regardless of his actions. They would assist him on a Sunday simply because that was the nice thing to do.
Besides, he would be helping them, too. He'd be giving them information as well, which would allow the science of Mako and the Lifestream to actually start developing here, and he still had the dragon egg to offer in payment. It was a win-win situation for everyone involved.
Reno cast his gaze about the deserted street, thinking carefully. If he was a budding Mako scientist, where would he hide? He'd have a little workshop in any alley somewhere, behind the shops, or perhaps between the much larger workshops in the industrial areas of the city.
From the thin trails of smoke in the air, he guessed that these areas of the city lay to the west, away from the peaceful suburb he seemed to have strayed into during his totally aimless walk. Starting to walk once again, he remained aware of where he was going now, heading in that direction, while taking note of the scenery around him. Even though he didn't intend to stay here long, it seemed only right that he learn his way around the city. He was a Turk, after all.
The layout was, as he soon discovered, nothing like the Midgar he'd known; this city hadn't the benefit of Reeve's design work, and so was a twisting, sprawling mass, rather than following the logical grid design Reno was used to. This was, he had to admit, more interesting, and he suspected that if he was ever chased through these streets, losing his pursuit would be easy enough, simply because of the numerous little alleys connecting the much larger roadways that twisted from one end of the city to the other. It was much smaller than the Midgar of his time, but infinitely more confusing; it just went to show how much of an effect some basic design work could have.
As he turned a corner, he froze in his steps, catching sight of a very familiar logo. It wasn't quite the same; less developed and much more simplistic in design. But there was no mistaking the red and white logo that identified the company that had once, or from this time's point of view, one day would rule the entire world. Shinra.
It wasn't Shinra Electric Company, though. This was before that had happened. This was Shinra Manufacturing. It seemed to be a small company, occupying one small yard on the outskirts of the industrial area of this Midgar. This world had little need for weapons, after all, beyond those used by the police forces, and for hunting purposes. But there was no mistaking that logo.
To Reno, it was almost rather unsettling to see it. It was the beginnings of the company that had once dominated his life in a manner very reminiscent of the way it had controlled the world. It was the pleasant feeling of familiarity, but also a hint of disgust and contempt. And every one of his trained instincts told him to go in there, report for duty like a good, well-behaved Turk. That in itself seemed to Reno so much like the action of a dog crawling back to its owner with its tail between its legs, after it had been out running rampant through the streets.
It wasn't too far from the truth, admittedly. He'd been trained to be loyal, and to be perfectly behaved; it was his own rebellion against that control that had lead him to not wear his uniform in the way expected of him, and to occasionally disappear for a few days on an enjoyable bar crawl. But despite the rebellion, he was still loyal, and it would take more than a few months working in a supermarket in Junon to change that. Old dogs didn't learn new tricks very easily.
And he had been running loose for a while, although admittedly that was because Shinra had been destroyed. Reno hadn't even considered the part of him that was loyal, though, simply because he'd known the company was gone. Seeing it here, albeit in a very infant form, left him feeling more than a little confused.
Between loyalty and independence, there was a moment or two of uncertainty, before he turned away from the manufacturing yard and the company that dominated it, continuing on his way. He had no place in this time, in this city, or as part of the Shinra of his time. His residual loyalty was nothing more than the tricks they'd trained into him, and the niggling nostalgia for times past that lurked in the back of his mind.
He was a Turk, yes, but he was no longer their Turk.
Disclaimer - Reno, Midgar and Shinra do not belong to me; they are the possessions of Square Enix, although I'm sure many, many of us wish otherwise.
Author's Notes - Well, this was a chapter that was incredibly difficult to write, and was entirely introspective. You can, of course, read as much into the meanings of this chapter as you like; you know I'll never reveal anything about my intentions.
I've actually reached a difficult point in the story, as it happens. Between the arrival in Midgar and the next part of the story, I have a bit of a blank spot, and it's this through which I'm navigating now, heading towards the next section of the plot. There are a couple of such empty voids throughout the story, actually. This does mean that I can confirm that I know how I intend to end this story.
Tijuana Pirate: I originally intended to try to keep Reno's personality pretty stable throughout this whole story, but he seems to have his own thoughts on the matter, and so he's evolving and changing as time passes. So, it wasn't intentional, but even so... I'm glad you think it's working. And, for the romance thing, I guess I didn't quite explain properly. You see a lot of fics out there that leap straight into a romance with no basis behind it; for that reason, most romance stories would need to be long in order to make them realistic. But, with that said, one-shots are nice too. In those, it's not like you're portraying the entire romance, but a snippet of it. Part of the events that lead to it. I guess I just feel that many of the romance stories out there don't have a lot of thought behind them. But then, I'm so thorough I'd probably end up beating a romance to death...
WrexSoul: You know, all that poking is probably bad for me. You might actually hurt me one day... Eh, you know I love it really. Anyway, Reno's actions in the hospital in this chapter were entirely your fault. I didn't intend for that to happen, but you gave me the inspiration. So, basically, this whole chapter is your fault. Meaning that in a nice way, of course. No butterflies in this chapter, apart from a few references, but... I think I managed to keep with the ambiguousness. Perhaps.
The Burning Misery: There was a slight television-based inspiration for that last dream, but that's not how it relates to the storyline. It was really just something I had in my mind and it was exactly what I needed for that particular chapter. I will, of course, give absolutely no hints about my intentions for the future.
Now, I will, of course, attempt to get the next chapter done quickly, but you all know I'm as unpredictable as the butterflies themselves. So no promises.