Tseng ate his eggs in silence, letting Reno do the talking as he seemed so eager to do. Having finished his first plate and started into his second, Reno was barraging the elderly chocobo caretaker with a litany of seemingly pointless questions.
"How come you've got so few birds in the middle of summer?" asked Reno, around a mouthful.
The chocobo farmer smiled. "I guess it's just a slow season. I'm getting too old for this, and my son Billy's getting restless tending the farm. I think his sister will help me when he leaves, but she's still just that little bit too young…" He sighed, but quickly perked up again, seeming to remember something. "Still, we've received quite the notice, quite the crowning honor this year." He gestured proudly at the number seen on his apron.
"What's that for?" Reno asked, nodding at the number. The old man drew himself up in his chair. "It's the racing number of the reigning chocobo champ, of course."
"Mm," agreed Reno, "that's pretty cool."
The old man wasn't finished. "We've been chosen this year as her officially endorsed chocobo stable! People will soon be traveling from all over the world to see us, you know. It's quite the high payment of respect." He paused. "It's because we trained her first mount, you see. I might even have a picture, here…let me see…"
He stood up and left the barn again, leaving Reno to help himself generously to a third plate of eggs. Tseng glared at him.
"You're certainly enjoying yourself," Tseng muttered. "Can we leave now?"
Reno shrugged. "You don't want to see the picture? Maybe she's cute. Athletic girls usually are."
"Reno." Tseng wasn't in the mood to play games.
Reno laughed. "Okay, fine, let's leave. Finish your eggs, though. You'll need your strength." He stood, and, whistling tunelessly to himself, headed out of the barn.
"Where are you going?" called Tseng, but Reno didn't respond, disappearing around the corner of the empty chocobo pen.
Mumbling obscenities at his partner's nonchalance, Tseng grabbed both of their backpacks and started for the door. As he passed the pen, however, Reno's voice stopped him.
"Tseng," Reno was calling from behind him. "Come look at this, will ya?"
Something new in Reno's voice made him turn around. Reno was standing there with the old man, staring intently at the photograph that the old man had proudly produced.
"We don't have time -!" Tseng began, but Reno cut him off.
"Just come over here," Reno asked again, "and look at this."
Wondering what he could possibly have to see in a racing photograph, Tseng dropped the backpacks in the grass and headed over to Reno.
"What am I looking at?" he asked tiredly. Reno stabbed a finger at the photo.
"Cute, isn't she," he commented, but he sounded tense, excited. Startled by his eagerness, Tseng looked at the picture, and caught his breath sharply.
"She's a beauty," agreed the old man.
"Mm," murmured Tseng, but he was scanning her features for more than natural beauty. Short blond hair was flung back across her face in the rush of wind from the race, revealing finely boned facial features, pale skinned, with large brown eyes glinting as she willed her bird towards the finish line. Her hands seemed small, engulfed by her riders gloves, but her arms were muscular and strong.
"Reno," Tseng began.
Reno nodded. "Yeah," he said, starting forward. "We should go, now."
"Wait," Tseng said, turning to the old man. "What's her name?"
The old man chuckled. "She goes by one letter, 'L.' Most people just know her by her racing number." He shook his head. "I bet she has a lot of young men all over her. Don't get too attached, you boys."
"Right," murmured Tseng. "Of course."
Reno pulled him forward. "Thanks for everything," he called to the old man. "Good luck with business!"
The two former Turks left the farm in near-silence, drifting to its limits before either was willing to speak up.
Finally, excited, Reno grabbed Tseng by the arm.
"Hey, he said, "Tseng-!"
"I know," Tseng said, but Reno wasn't finished.
"Elena," he said. "Gotta be her. She's even got those little hands, you know? Tseng, it's go to be her."
"I know!" Tseng was walking face down, staring at the ground, hands clasped together behind his back.
"Chocobo racing champ, huh?" Reno whistled appreciatively. "Our little girl. Our little rookie. Doing pretty well with herself, I guess, huh?"
Tseng slammed one fist into the other. "She's an idiot!"
Reno stopped. "What? Hey, now…"
Tseng stared at him. "She's a goddamn celebrity! Her picture's probably on goddamn television half the time."
"Well, hey, we'd never heard of her," Reno said reasonably, but Tseng wasn't listening.
"Anyone with half a brain can see who she is. I'm surprised she's lasted this long!" He sighed in frustration.
Reno attempted to be reassuring. "She's a bright girl, our Elena," he said. "I'm sure she knows what she's doing."
"I'm sure," Tseng muttered.
"Hey," said Reno, after a few tense minutes, "well, um. I'm going to the Gold Saucer."
"I'm coming with you," Tseng decided.
Reno grinned. "I thought you said we weren't supposed to travel together, because…"
Tseng started forward. "Forget it," he said, "I'm coming with you."
"Okay," Reno said, clapping him on the back. "But you're going to have to stop clenching your face up like that. It's just fucking scary."
Tseng turned to him. "Shut up," he suggested.