Notes:

jeyukbokkeum - a very spicy stir-fried pork dish. Korean.

samgyeopsal-gui - a slightly spicy grilled side of pork, usually served with lettuce. Korean.

nikujaga - niku (meat, in this case beef) and jagaimo (potatoes). A very home-y, hearth-y meal. Includes sugar and soy sauce. Japanese.

soba - buckwheat noodles. In this case, served with an extra hot curry. Japanese.

Operation: Exploding Jellyfish!

Chapter Four: Some Like It Kraken

Yuffie practically bounced into the dining room. It wasn't really a bounce, but it certainly tried to be one— if it hadn't been for her ribs, it certainly would have been a bounce.

She stopped abruptly when she saw the table setting.

Five places had been set, all with little rice bowls and soup bowls and plates made of Wutaian pottery— her second-favourite set, the set she'd given to Tifa as a housewarming gift. The set that had the teeny tiny little turtles painted in rings on the rims of the plates, and in miniature on the rice bowls, and on the outsides of the teacups. Chekhai had even pulled out the green porcelain chopsticks with the chopstick rests that were shaped like turtles.

"Tifa kept them," she squealed. "She kept the chopstick rests!"

"Turtles?" Reeve asked. He sounded slightly puzzled. And then, she could tell from his voice, he began to grin. "Is somebody a little obsessed?"

"Hey! Turtles aren't THAT weird! I mean, it could have been MOOGLES! And I'm not obsessed, either!"

She moved towards the table, began spooning rice into bowls and soup into bowls and pouring tea. Vincent made a strangled sound and stopped her hand when she went to lift the teapot.

"No lifting."

"Hey, if I can lift without pain—"

"—Reeve's bandages will not hold."

"Will TOO!"

Vincent turned and gave Reeve a non-patented (he was too busy and antisocial to bother with patenting offices) Glare Of Mega Ultra Painful Death.

Reeve shut up, his mouth closing with a snap.

"Okay, fine, Monster Man. Since I can't serve, you can serve for me." She clapped her hands. "Okay, the jeyukbokkeum goes to Reeve— no, not the samgyeopsal-gui, that's for Marlene. I said NOT the samgyeopsal-gui!"

Vincent sighed, finally finding the stir-fried pork dish and scooping it into a random plate.

"Yeah, that one. Reeve, you can sit wherever— you've got fried rice, no egg. Love me, Reeve, love me: she would have charged extra for that." Yuffie pointed to a covered bowl. "Now, the curry soba— yeah, that one— is mine. I ordered it extra hot. That one goes over there," she pointed again, "by the other plate with the steamed rice. And, uh, the samgyeopsal-gui is Marlene's, she's got fried rice, no egg. Sorry, but Reeve's allergic to eggs. And the nikujaga is Denzel's. He's next to Marlene."

Vincent shuffled dishes around, as well as place settings.

There was one empty plate left on the table. He looked over at her.

Yuffie shrugged, wincing. "And you can have whatever you want from the rest of the dishes. You've got steamed rice, by the way."

Dinner actually passed without incident.

Mostly.

That time when Denzel used one of his chopsticks to spear a bit of meat didn't count. Same for when Marlene spilled a glass of milk all over the table. Or when Reeve laughed his ass off at Denzel poking Marlene in the side with a chopstick and Vincent Death Glared and Yuffie started to cry because laughing hurt.

"I'm okay," Yuffie had said through the tears. "No, Vincent, really, I'm fine. Quit hovering, fuckdamnit!"

And Vincent had glared, but he'd backed off,

But really, aside from those couple of incidents, everything went fine.

Maybe.

hr

21:00

Cloud wasn't quite so lucky. First, there was the traffic. People in Edge seemed to dislike motorcycles. That wouldn't have been a problem, if it hadn't been coupled with the tendency in Edge to immediately max out the throttle as soon as the traffic lights turned green.

Yet another beat-up old pickup truck cut him off, even as a smaller, newer car tried to swipe him off the road.

It was the pack that broke the Chocobo's back. He'd been trying to get through one freaking street for the better part of fifteen minutes. And he'd never been known for his patience.

He could have dealt with being cut off. But good freaking grief, trying to run him off the road!

Cloud flipped them both off and gunned his own engine. In an incredibly dangerous manoeuvre for which he would kill Denzel for ever considering, he pulled between the two vehicles and sped out in front of the truck.

"Crazy sons of BITCHES!" He shouted behind him. "How do you like THAT, huh!"

"Cloud, calm down!"

"That guy could have killed us! He tried to run us off—"

"I know, Cloud. I'm riding the same bike you are."

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Cloud."

And the rest of the ride passed in silence. He wouldn't have been able to hear Tifa, anyway.

They finally reached the restaurant.

Orunita's.

It had taken him entirely too much work to get a reservation. He'd called and called, and called some more. Finally, he'd had to go to the restaurant and say within the first sentence that he was Cloud Strife of AVALANCHE, show his driver's license, and show the ID card Reeve had made for them.

Apparently, people had tried to change their names to Strife or Lockhart— he'd even heard of people imitating Reeve or Cid. So Reeve had created an AVALANCHE membership card, to prove that they were really part of AVALANCHE.

It had been a pain in the ass, but he'd heard nothing but good about Orunita's food and service. So it was worth it, right?

A young man dressed in a valet uniform stopped him when he entered the parking lot.

"Excuse me, sir, but we don't allow motorcycle parking here."

Cloud blinked. "I have a reservation."

"I'm sorry, but we don't allow motorcycle parking here."

Cloud nodded. Today just kept getting better and better, didn't it? Reeve'd kicked him out of his office, he'd gotten Yuffie shot trying to get the engagement ring, he'd nearly gotten run off the road— and now he couldn't even park at the damned restaurant where he'd spent over two hours trying to get a reservation.

"I understand." Omni hates me. "Where's the closest place I can park?"

"Uh, it's about three blocks from here." The valet pointed. "That way."

"Thanks."

Cloud took off, keeping exactly what he thought of the situation to himself.