They left decently early the next morning, each of them with backpacks of basic provisions that Reno had been farsighted enough to provide them with. Tseng never knew what the process of leaving had been like for Reno, and Reno didn't mention it as they passed through the gates and headed out towards green fields and visible stars.

"I never asked, you know," Reno said, as they hiked through Midgar's deserted outer territory. "Did you leave anybody behind, when you left?"

Tseng shook his head. "No, I didn't. Nobody to leave, just like you. You remember the first rule of the Turks."

Reno laughed. Together, they said, "No connections." Tseng smiled.

"There were a lot of 'first rules of the Turks,'" Reno mused. "Elena used to make up new ones every time we needed to feel important. I mean," he continued, with a little frown, "we were always important, but…"

"I remember," Tseng said, and Reno dropped it.

"You still need some glasses," Reno continued after a minute.

Tseng chuckled. "So I can look stupid, like you?"
"Hey, now," Reno grinned. "That was low."

The trek was a little longer than they'd expected. Tseng was forced to lead them in a wide circle around the lands of Kalm. Reno made his assumptions, kept them to himself, and didn't ask questions.

It was already late when they arrived at the old-fashioned chocobo farming establishment that they'd shunned as Turks.

"Turks," Reno had always said, "don't ride birds. That's just…dumb."

It seemed much more inviting now, as the two of them made a final sprint for the barns and enclosures, a place where they hoped they could spend the night without rousing too much notice or suspicion.

When they reached the chocobo pens, they were relieved to discover that there weren't any birds being kept at the moment that could raise the alarm. As softly as they could, Reno and Tseng made their way towards the barn. The doors creaked upon opening, but there didn't seem to be anyone around to hear them.

"Good choice, boss," approved Reno, as he settled down against a pile of soft greens. "Fit undoubtedly for kings like us, huh?"

"Go to sleep," muttered Tseng.

Reno's silence implied that he'd already complied with the command.

Before he opened his eyes the next morning, Tseng already knew he was being watched. Careful not to move or change his breathing, he slowly, achingly slowly, opened one eye until, through a tiny slit of vision, he could see his potential assailant.

It was an old man, probably well into his seventies, wearing a white apron with the number seven on it. The old man smiled.

"Oh, good," he said, "you're awake."

Tseng blinked.

"Sleep well?" asked the old man, drifting past Tseng to check on Reno, who was also awake, sitting propped up on his elbows with a mixture of concern and amusement on his face.

"Billy found you this morning when he went to check on the birds. You all must have been pretty exhausted, you just collapsed right here in my barn." He paused in consternation. "I didn't wake you myself, did I?" He asked. "You're welcome to sleep longer if you're at leisure. Or maybe you'd like some eggs?"

Tseng glanced at Reno, who shrugged, grinned, and then pulled himself to his feet, stretching his arms with one fluid movement. "Thank you very much, mister," he said, extending a hand to shake the old man's. "I'd love some eggs."

The old man smiled. "I thought you would. Skinny boys like you are always hungry. You wait here and I'll go make you something."

Tseng and Reno watched him leave, and as the door shut behind him, Tseng groaned.

"What?" asked Reno with a frown. "I thought things went pretty damn well, considering the whole breaking and entering bit."

"We're leaving now," Tseng declared. "Get your bag."

"No way," Reno replied, planting his feet. "He's giving us free breakfast, come on, now."

"It's dangerous for us to just sit here and chat," Tseng reminded him. "We're wanted men, we can't just shoot the breeze with whatever old geezer happens to be here on the farm. Later, he'll remember us and have plenty to tell the search parties. It's not a good idea."

"We'll be a lot more unusual and memorable if we just get up and leave right now," Reno said. "If we stick around, we'll look a hell of a lot less suspicious."

The argument was cut off by the re-entrance of the old man, bearing a steaming tray of scrambled eggs.

"Fresh, too," the old man said with a half-toothy smile. "I gathered them myself."