Two Shades
A fresh graduate of the Shinra Military Academy is tossed into
the (none too wonderful) world of Turks for about several months, and
suddenly she finds herself promoted, ranking among the higher echelons
of the shady organization, partnered with none other than Reno himself.
(I SUCK at summaries, so I will stop here.) NOT an OC/Reno romance.
Will deal with somewhat mature themes in later chapters.
Chapter 1
Apathy
Toril was uncomfortable in this office, under the severe lights, the cool walls. She shifted on her seat, on the wooden bench, not even allowing herself to lean back against the wall, into anything. It all just felt too sterile, too cold.
She had been called in by Tseng earlier. 'It is of utmost importance', he had stressed. 'Report as soon as possible.' And so she had, after making sure there wasn't anything more she had forgotten to do (all rookies had their obligatory duties, hers' was to patrol Sector 7.) She exchanged shifts with another rookie, going from mid-morning to midday instead of staying on from mid-afternoon to early evening—she had forgotten his name, the one she had switched with, but his nose was unusually long and sharp at the tip, that was all she remembered.
She was sitting here, by Tseng's office. Tseng was the head of the Turks. She recalled it had been some old, tired looking man with strange dark hair back then, when she was still in military school, but it was Tseng now. Tseng had been the one who had brought her here, gotten her here in the first place.
He had approached her, right after the graduation ceremonies, five months—almost six months ago. He didn't need to introduce himself to her—she knew him, anyone who was even somewhat involved with Shinra knew him. She remembered feeling a shiver of anticipation run through her when he had stopped in front of her and asked if he could speak to her, awhile.
He said they had been watching her for quite some time now. Quite some time? Apparently, they had been following her progress the moment she stepped foot into the prestigious military academy. She was eye-catching, he had said, as she had shown much potential as a military woman—she was striking, intense, quite a fighter, and intelligent as well (as shown by the pre-requisite diagnostics they had to take before they were admitted).
Toril hadn't let herself be moved by the praises. Though she did allow herself a hefty, inward pat on the back. One pat on the back. It wasn't everyday she had the attentions of anyone like this, as important as he was.
She showed a lot of potential, he had said. A lot of promise…truth be told, she was too good for the Shinra army. Not quite SOLDIER material either (Toril's ego slunk a few notches lower at this comment), but still too good to be nothing but a common soldier—she'd probably make her way up to Captain in a few years, but inevitably die in some wasteland, to be forgotten. (This remark didn't do wonders for her dignity and self-respect as a person either.)
He had a proposition though, he had said carefully, maintaining steady eye contact with her the whole time. Then he had asked her.
She had been flattered, and very much honored at that time—sometimes she'd think back to that moment, and wonder if she had only said yes because of exactly that, she had been floored by the fact that HE wanted HER to join them, the Turks. The Turks had direct (well, almost direct) orders from the President of Shinra himself, they were his right-hand men, they were most possibly the second most important organization in the whole of Shinra (SOLDIER being the first.) She hadn't really thought much about it, what exactly they did—but everyone feared the Turks, and no one ever questioned the things they did, and she took that as a sign of importance. If you were important, no one ever questioned you or what you had to do, you just did it, and everyone else would just try and take it in stride.
That was five months ago, fast-forward to right now. Toril was tired, and to be honest, a bit bored. She didn't really know what she had been expecting from this, being a Turk and all (maybe heart-stopping secret missions? Near-death experiences?), but so far, she hadn't done anything more than patrol—several hours a day, different sectors of Midgar that they were afraid AVALANCHE (a rebel, environmentally-conscious group bent on bringing down Shinra and their 'evil' ways) had infiltrated, or at least, something of that sort. They were to report right away if they saw suspicious characters loitering about, et cetera, et cetera. And they were there to keep the general peace as well (the people living in the slums weren't exactly the most well-mannered of the lot in Midgar.)
The most Toril had done in her five months of patrol was to break up a drunken brawl between two middle-aged men (one had long, stringy black hair but a balding spot on the back of his head.) Otherwise, nothing really had happened to her. She wasn't so sure if it was because nothing just really ever happened anymore, or if she just had the bad luck to have the most boring shifts (another rookie, Rolfe, had the shock of his life when he was taken hostage by an AVALANCHE member, and they had threatened to blow him up with the reactor. He had the shift right after Toril's that time, in Sector 4.)
Or maybe it was because they were rookies, they got the most inane, senseless missions. Toril stifled a yawn behind her hand. She knew she would have to work her way up the ladder to ensure that her next missions would be more 'exciting', but that would take awhile. A long, long, while. She sighed, despondent. Being a Turk wasn't what it was all cut out to be, after all.
"Toril."
Toril's mind cleared of all thoughts as she moved on autopilot, standing up at attention and saluting her superior, Tseng, who had just walked into the room.
The dark haired man nodded slightly, affirmingly, and Toril stood at ease.
"Have a seat."
Toril sat back down, but rather stiffly, still not allowing herself to relax into the wall behind her. "You wanted to speak to me about something, sir?"
Tseng had sat down too, behind his desk. "Ah, yes." He leaned forward on his seat, turning his full attention towards the young woman. "How long have you been here, in my services?" he asked, rather conversationally.
Toril could not tell at all, where any of this was headed. She did a few quick calculations in her head. "About five months, give or take, sir."
"I see." Tseng nodded thoughtfully, his cool blue eyes glinting under the harsh, unforgiving lights. "You haven't been here for long, then."
Before Toril could say or react to anything, Tseng had risen to his feet, pulled out a standard-issue Shinra HB-56 shotgun (Tseng never really used a weapon, but he had that always, just in case), and aimed it directly at her head, right inbetween her eyes.
Author's notes: HB-56 shotgun : don't take me seriously on that, that's half a charcoal pencil and a number that popped into my head that time (laughs) but I seriously couldn't think of anything, and I don't know, somehow a Beretta in the Final Fantasy world just sounds wrong.
This story takes place after Before Crisis, so this would be around three to two years before the beginning of Final Fantasy VII, give or take, but not quite Last Order, It's just somewhere there. Veld isn't the head anymore of the Turks, Tseng is by now (I'm not sure what happens to Veld though), and I took the liberty of putting levels to their organization and all sorts of rules, for the sake of the plot. It's a fanfic anyway, so please bear with me.
I know it sounds funny and somewhat improbable, Toril being the wonder kid that she is and all, but hey, it's a fanfic, it's fantasy, and um, yeah. Give her time. She'll grow on you. (Well, at least I hope so.) I want to develop her characters, I don't want a flat representation of her where she's perfect and can do no wrong. That would make a Mary-Sue (and okay, it's kind of a Mary-Sue already, I'll admit) but I owe it to you guys to at least make it a nice and interesting Mary-Sue, right? The damage has been done.
Sorry for any OOC-ness. I'm still trying to get a firm grip onto their characters and personalities and all. I'm trying! This is my second fanfiction piece in around four years, and things are a bit rusty, but it's coming back to me.
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, or any of their characters, they belong to Squaresoft, etc. You know the drill.