The Flowers of Midgar
Chapter One
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy Seven, or any lyrics I might use.
This is a simple fanfiction about complex people; i.e. this is part "Shinra" fic, part romance, part adventure, etc. There will be many mature themes dealt with in this fic, that's why it's rated R. If you don't think you can handle reading excessive violence, swearing, rather long stretches of logic to get from point A to point B, then go away now and find some cheerful little G-rated fluffy thing to waste your time on. There will be little to no fluff in this fanfic.
Read and review, check out some of my other works. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, and if you choose to impart some, give me specific examples as to what you would like to see things changed to. Flames are always appreciated, and will be used to cook my dinner and warm my house (the heating bill tried to eat me yesterday, so yeah, please, send flames.). I will try to update as often as is physically possible, but I'm a college freshman, and I have a lot of crap to do. Enjoy.
The bar area was large, taking up almost the whole first floor of the building, decorated with taste and a little money, and the room seemed inviting and comfortable. The men in the doorway didn't believe it for a second. They knew the reputation of the bar's owner, a tough-as-nails bitch named Hero who everyone seemed so terrified of, and they knew there had to be more to it than this clean, well insulated, well stocked bar. It had to be hired muscle that made her threat. It had to be...or they were in deep shit.
The guns they had were held tightly in their shaking hands, their nervous eyes darting into every shadowed corner, looking for the thugs that /had/ to be there. The puny little runt sitting on the bar with a cigarette in one hand and book in the other couldn't be that 't be as deadly as they said. The chatter slowly died away, the slamming of the door going unnoticed, but the smell of trouble permeating the air made people stop talking and stare. Slowly, the room became perfectly silent, and the woman on the bar looked up from her book, took a long drag on her cigarette, and raised an eyebrow in mild annoyance. She looked them over once, let out the smoke in her lungs, and went back to her book.
It was the most enraging thing she could have done, and taking their lead from her, the rest of the patrons went back to their drinks and their gossip. The man on point of the little group of lowlifes half-turned to stare incredulously at his buddies then dropped like a rock as an empty bottle broke over his head. The others raised their guns, but to no avail; they were pelted with empty bottles and leaped upon by a mass of partially drunken patrons. Above the din, the woman on the bar spoke clearly and without lifting her eyes from the book.
"If those lice are out of here and the place cleaned in less than ten minutes, free drinks and no charge for the rest of the night."
The bar was spotless in five minutes, twenty-two seconds.
Such nights were typical at Dancing Dice, which, contrary to its name, had no dancing or dice. People came from all over Midgar, some as far as Kalm even, for the drinks, the gossip, the company, and Hero. The bar pretty much ran itself, the waitresses handing out drinks, two bartenders working at any time, and a cook in the fair sized kitchen whipping up snacks and decent meals. The bar didn't need bouncers, if there was anything to big for the patrons themselves to handle, Hero stepped in and the next night there would be twice as many people trying to get in. There was a first come first served policy, and the bar opened if and when Hero decided it did. She made more than enough money to cover damages from the occasional bar fight and keep everything well stocked. You could get drinks in Dancing Dice that you couldn't outside the fanciest bar on the Plate, for literally a fraction of the price. If profits were good one week, there would be unlimited free beer the next, or some such thing. You see why the people nearly worshipped her.
Every now and then, Hero would sponsor a chocobo race on the plains outside Midgar, so that the people could gamble, and being there wasn't necessary to collect your winnings. That was a perfect arrangement for the mostly hardworking people of the slums, and it gave them something they could take their families to during daylight hours. When the bar was closed, Hero would tutor any children that wanted to learn in her vast apartment above the bar. From about six in the morning to six in the evening, the place was deserted, the employees sleeping in their rooms on the fourth floor or at their homes, Hero and the children reading quietly by the fireplace in the winter, on the terrace during the hot summer months. There was an average of twenty children who came to her every day, sometimes more, sometimes less. Sector Three had the highest child literacy rate in Midgar, thanks to Hero, and the neighboring sectors were climbing the scales too, since the wealthy bar owner would give the children money for train tickets to come see her for reading lessons each day.
Yeah, she was a model citizen and all...but, like it said in the last chapter, she was cold all the way through. Once, one of the children was kidnapped by a Don on the way home from Hero's. Hero heard about it, and the kid was safe at home by opening time for the bar. Another example of perfection? Think again. If that child had been snatched just a few hours later, Hero wouldn't have bothered making a rescue. Would've interrupted her afternoon nap.
Am I trying to say that Hero was a heartless, cold person?
Absolutely.
Why?
Because I want you to know exactly the person she was before she met /him/. Before that shard of ice in her chest started beating again. Before...well, you get the idea.
Then again, /he/ wasn't much different before he met Hero. In fact, he was worse... He was fast on his way to becoming a dead man...and I guess you could say they saved one another. You could say...
They were made for each other.
But stuff like that is fluff, and didn't I say there would be no fluff in this story?