Protège-moi

-

ii. freewheeler

"Noodles with lettuce and salted fish. Plus a cup of tea and a beer."

Yuffie placed fifteen gil on the counter before resting her purse at the bar and re-opening the rejected literature beside her. Shake was suppose to meet her here a half hour ago with "important" news. She was in hot enough water sneaking out of the house especially since her husband's suspicions have elevated beyond verbal reassurance. He knew this, so why was he wasting away her time and sanity? Sighing, she twisted a single strand of coal between slender fingers while trying to focus her attention on words rather than the passing minutes.

"Here you go miss," the waitress interrupted as she put down a small cup of piping hot tea followed by a bottle of beer and the requested noodles and fish.

"Thank you," the ninja replied with a nod of appreciation. After taking a quick swig of alcohol, Yuffie picked up her chopsticks and began to chow down. It had been a long time since she could sit down to a hot meal without Octavian's lunacy disrupting her enjoyment. She was going to take advantage of this rare opportunity.

It was hard to believe three years have already passed. It was quick and barely bestowed the opportunity of recognition or nostalgia. One day she fell asleep a child and the next morning awoke as a twenty-two year old woman with a husband and burdens. Yuffie missed the days where frolicking in the forests of Nibelheim was her only main concern. She missed, even more, the significant weigh down of her belt due to powerful materia. Now, the only significant weight she carried with her was in direct result of a guilty conscience.

She wished she could just go back and change unnecessary situations; painful situations which apparently sufficed as punishment for her lack of better judgment. Yuffie remembered when she was a child and her nanny would read from a mammoth book of traditional fairy tales which her mother had passed down to her from when she was a baby. The tomboy would never admit it but her favorite was, hands down, Cinderella. She enjoyed the sensation of her heart beating in elation as the prince went door to door in desperate search of his true love, while simply relying on something as vague as a glass slipper. As her nanny read to her, she secretly dreamed up the prince who couldn't live without her and, in result, would run around Wutai, her lucky sneaker in hand, trying to find her.

She thought it was reasonable. Every little girl had higher expectations than reason allowed; a fair exchange for a lack of wisdom. At eighteen, Yuffie thought she had it and when she realized she didn't, settled for third best. She always wondered what could have been if she waited around to see what second place had to offer.

Preoccupied eyes glanced up at the clock and allowed irritation to consume her. Forty-five minutes late. Shake was never one to be anal, but he was never, as far back as she can recall, ever this tardy. Shoveling one last mouthful of food and chasing it with a gulp of beer and green tea, Yuffie threw down five more gil and proceeded to leave the restaurant. She didn't know what was going on but judging by tumultuous current affairs she didn't want to stick around and find out.

Midgar's wall market was reasonably bustling. It was around mid afternoon and the weather was gorgeous. Men and women alike rushed in and out of shops picking up food and nic nacs while children played by the well. Yuffie continued to walk and admire how things have really cleaned up since Reeve assumed power. Meteor had completely obliterated any iota of hope where continuing to live a normal existence was concerned, but Reeve had really stepped up and reinstated lost faith. That, she felt, was far more important than rebuilding a sector.

Midgar, no matter how improved, had really brought a bad taste in her mouth. Luckily enough, Octavian and she were only stationed here for one more week, and then it was back to their villa in Costa del Sol. Surprisingly enough, during her stay, she had not run into any estranged faces. Yuffie had been in Sector five looking at weapons, constantly within wall market territory shopping for books or "recreational substances," and, realizing she might be pushing her luck, even visited Aeris' church to pay her respects. No Reeve. No AVALANCHE. And, thank Leviathan, no Turks.

Things were going smoothly, the natural pallor of her tan face slowly returning, until she got a call from home. It was Shake and the sound of his voice was enough to force the pale ghosts of fear and loathing right back in her. He refused to talk on the phone due to the paranoia of tapped phones, which brought her here, to an agreed upon destination, without second thoughts. Recalling their conversation, Yuffie's mind started racing. Why didn't he show up? What happened? He sounded so urgent and she had an inkling of an idea that whatever he was freaked out about had something to do with Wutai. Godo had lost contact with her over the years so it was only obvious that his council would also. After two years of distance, trouble in Wutai would be the only way either one would extinguish the burning bridge of communication.

That thought alone caused her to spine to run cold.

Picking up her pace, she suddenly grew painfully aware of her surroundings. What if something had happened to Shake? Wars between corporations, especially Shinra and Thunders, had been causing devastating consequences upon cities around the world. It had literarily been a game of monopoly for her philandering spouse and his organization, trying to put a Mako tower in whatever land would allow - and the lands which wouldn't allow, he would hassle until they did. Yuffie had a feeling he was trying to corrupt Wutai hence Shake's disturbing call. Because she wouldn't put it past Octavian to hurt anyone in his way, her feeling of discomfort only agonized her further.

The power walk turned into a sprint as she tried to hurry out of harm's way. She needed to get home and find out exactly what was going on. She needed to know if something had happened to Wutai and Shake. Making her way past the faceless crowds of inquisitive people, Yuffie felt some alleviation once the exit became clear to her hindsight; that was until she felt a hand grasp her wrist and jerk her back through the small area leading into the abandoned Honeybee Inn.

In reflex, the spitfire swung a tiny elbow backwards and connected it, with impressive force, against her attempted kidnapper's chest. The contact left the aggressor temporarily breathless, giving Yuffie enough time to successfully land a spin hook kick. Without interest in discovering identities, she tried to run but tripped when a much bigger mass tackled her to the ground without remorse.

"No," Yuffie screamed before a bag was forced onto her head and the world around her was suddenly cloaked in darkness.

-

one week earlier

Music filtered the room clean with classical music as classy individuals mingled and congratulated the man of the hour. Today, Octavian Renton was being ingratiated into the head of Thunders Corp, the second biggest powerhouse next to Shinra. Thunders chose to thrive on whatever amount of Mako energy that survived after meteor's disbanding. That, as well as a lack of seniority and undesirable code of ethics, has caused most citizens to turn the other cheek in response to an outstretched hand.

Octavian was not shy in discussing, in depth, his disdain for Shinra and its functions. He was a firm believer that a company was only as strong as the element it built its foundation upon. And in the newly knighted president's opinion, oil and electricity were too common of a "blood type" to have coursing through a supposed top business' veins. Reeve was never one to respond to slander, especially when it came from second rate organizations, but in this case the ex-AVALANCHE member simply retorted: "Shinra, in this day and age, is a company and voice for the people. As long as I'm in power, Shinra would never use any harmful substances, like Mako, to skyrocket his company into undeserved prosperity."

That only seemed to anger Octavian further.

"Mr. Kobayashi," Renton formally acknowledged as he took the lead director of board's hand in his own and offered a firm handshake.

Edward Kobayashi was Octavian's other half. Everything Octavian believed in, Edward primarily believed in as well. Edward was say a sentence and Octavian would soon after finish it and put his idea into effect. The two were extremely close friends as well as employees and some fellow Thunders employees felt very threatened by their bond. The shared ruthlessness and tunnel vision qualities were enough to send any person under their power into a state of extreme paranoia.

"Renton. I can see leadership is treating you rather well."

"One can only hope it lasts. Did you get any further information on our friends over at Shinra?" Octavian asked. He reached for a glass of champagne but not before giving the busty waitress a once over. Smirking at her blush, hazel eyes focused their attention back on his comrade as he savored the sweet taste of success lying entangled within a glass of champagne.

"They're clean. The only dirt they have is their choice to keep the Turks around but the fact that AVALANCHE is now aligned with them completely cancels out their usual murder conspiracy. Speaking of AVALANCHE," Kobayashi declared before taking a final chug of his dry martini and reaching in his pocket for a cigarette, "What about that feisty wife of yours? Couldn't she get you in?"

"I already tried that but she doesn't want anything to do with them. She might be a mouthy little bitch but at least I don't have to worry about her loyalties. Plus, I've got a new idea in the works. One that's going to assure Thunders a number one position."

"Now you've got me intrigued," the CEO proclaimed with a quirked eyebrow while lighting the thick cigarette hanging from parted lips.

"Lets just say being married to a young princess/hero doesn't just guarantee me an interesting fuck, my friend," the president pointed out with a smug smile on his face before raising his glass in victory, "Cheers."

-

Yuffie wanted a drink; and not the noxious diabetic coma concoctions usually served at these events, but a real drink. A beer. Yeah, a beer, she could really go for one of those right now.

"Mrs. Renton, would you care for a glass of champagne?" A young, clean cut waiter asked as he positioned the tray of sparkling alcohol in front of her.

"No. Do you have any beer?" Yuffie bluntly crossed examined, her multi-tonal eyes searching for some kind of hint that he had something hidden in the back away from all the squares. His blank expression left her sorely disappointed, "Nevermind. Champagne's fine."

Taking the crystal elegance her drink resided in, the thin trophy wife wandered off with hopes of finding the entrance of the fifth dimension or something closely resembling a portal. At first, Yuffie thought her disgust for these stiff events was her immaturity and inability to appreciate the subtle things in life. She believed the older she got, the admiration of classical music, cocktails, and formal attire would grow. Unfortunately, it didn't quite work out that way.

Sighing, the reluctant Mrs. Renton smiled, no teeth, at the unfamiliar faces, yet refused to approach and initiate conversation. She couldn't stand looking at these people much less making an effort to get to know their plastic personalities. Every single man was alike as was every woman - the men were dry and perverted, the women vain and bitchy. Yuffie didn't belong here and that thought alone made her increasingly bitter. Plus, she knew they were talking about her; conversations ranging from teenybopper to waster to ignorant. She didn't mind if they didn't like her because if they did, for some reason, harvest affection for her, the hate would become vacuous and uncontrollable. And that would be very bad on her behalf.

Tedious. It was the only word she could think of to describe the very infection she felt herself becoming susceptible to. The room was hot and the soft bronze flesh consuming her began to crawl in discomfort. She needed to be alone. She needed a fix. Ah, yes, a fix...that word has never sounded more inviting or pleasurable to the young host. The way it made your body feel weightless as you orbited the planet and sailed across the universe with pearly clouds and vast constellations. The way your mind loses its concepts and suddenly life lacked expectations and suffering. The comfort and warmth which enveloped you into patient and unconditional love. This was the only love she ever needed or could ever want. It was the love no human being was capable of offering.

Neglecting her duties, Yuffie maneuvered around crowds if cackling hyenas and made a hard left before any of the guests noticed her attempted disappearing act. She rushed up the stairs, heels classically clicking on the hard, translucent surface, skip divided her steps to the door of the luxury suite she shared with her husband, and swung open the door without restraint. The room was rather lovely as it more deservingly belonged on the set of romantic movie. The ivory curtains flowed gloriously down like a bride's veil until it was mere centimeters away from the waxed hardware floor. A large goose feathered comforter covered the queen sized bed and the mahogany oak frame supporting the mattress complimented the numerous decorative Technicolor pillows quite nicely. The furniture, also fine mahogany oak, was carved Victorian style with doilies and crystal nic nacs perched on top.

The ninja bum rushed her dresser and ransacked the contents of it. Hopefully, Octavian wasn't overcome with the sudden urge to pry into his wife's business. It wasn't as though she would know if he knew about her habit anyway, for he was the type to hide his knowledge while keeping face and use it to his advantage when the appropriate time came. If he did know about her minor chemical dependency, he would probably do something along the lines of hiring a professional to discreetly enter the house, scrounge for any narcotics, pocket them, and clean everything up to the standard it had been left before leaving. This cycle would continue until Yuffie would go insane from withdrawal and paranoia and confess in order to get her itch scratched.

Muttering insults in her spouse's behalf, a silver cigarette case revealed its location at the corner of her underwear drawer which caused a small smile of satisfaction to spread across her face. Grabbing her point of interest, Yuffie closed the drawer before reaching up and snatching Octavian's Zippo lighter. Quickly realizing the lack of an essential element, she jogged towards into the bathroom, an underappreciated aqua centric colored beauty, reached into the waste bin and pulled out a used toilet paper roll. Now it was time to chase the ever elusive dragon into his castle in the heavens. He was looking lonely the last time she had seen him, so the equally lonely princess was more than positive there wouldn't be a fight this time around.

It was strange. She kept her habit very well under wraps and prevented herself from using amounts which would induce an addiction. Due to her belief in moderation, her memory was decent for a user, but nonetheless, she still couldn't remember why exactly it was she started using to begin with. Yuffie did remember while working at Turtle's Paradise overhearing a group talk about their experiences with drugs and how euphoric the sensations were, especially heroin. It was obvious that the conversation had stuck with her and when the earth and all its revolving planets came shattering down around her one fateful day, Yuffie allowed the curiosity to peak to the point of experimentation. She was deathly afraid of needles but thanks to her housekeeper, Esther, Yuffie learned how to smoke it rather than inject or snort.

Obvious catalysts and most legitimate suspects were loneliness and depression; two attributes the recreational user associated with a certain scrawny red headed Turk. She tried to fight the urge, but in the end, the result was tiresomely repetitive. Yuffie blamed Reno for everything that may have contributed to her downward spiral into purgatory followed up by a permanent residence in hell. He did this to her and she hated him for it.

Sneaking back out and down the stairwell, the petite pessimist crept towards the sliding doors leading to the spacious patio. It was the dead of winter so any of the guests leaving the heather sanctuary of her home was highly unlikely. She would be able, if only for a short while, to achieve her peace of mind.

Rubbing her arms to ward off frigid blood, Yuffie found a cozy looking lawn chair overlooking a tarped Olympic sized pool. The moon, millions upon millions of miles away yet still gracing foreign bodies with its lovely luminance, was full and slightly brighter than usual among a pitch black canvas. The night, aside from being unbearably cold, was gorgeous causing Yuffie to subconsciously pat herself on the back for her choice location as she situated herself on the seat.

She put the Zippo in front of her, opened the silver container, pulled out a small plastic bag of brown powder, and removed the small neatly cut thin piece of tin. Accounting for all her materials, Yuffie opened the bag of heroin and filled her choice surface with about a gram before carefully covering up the drug with the toilet paper roll. As soon as she realized the accuracy in the procedure and double checked the amount of skag being inducted into her body, the ex-AVALANCHE member grabbed the lighter and resurrected it in a blaze of orange and blue.

It took minutes for the tin to heat up enough for powder to melt and procure vapor. Moving the flame back and forth for efficiency's sake, Yuffie began to notice some fumes begin to invade her nostrils, so reflexively she sucked in as much as her protesting lungs could handle. The hit was instant and in mere seconds she felt her head lighten and depth perception blur. Before she knew it, the five foot three heroine hopped on Puff's back and soared to the heavens where they greeted Zeus and Hera. The usual impenetrable guard perverting her dissolved and slithered away through her veins amongst the consistent flow of DNA. For the next few minutes, nothing would distract her from experiencing the pleasure she felt should be included in a birthright.

The tools inadvertently sat beside their harrowing abuser after Yuffie's head collided with the marshmallow cushion embodying her seat. She felt good. The world was good. That evil bastard, the bastard she couldn't put a name with at the moment, who ruined her life was good. Those poor excuses, all one hundred and fifty of them, polluting her home with useless, insipid, bullshit jibber jabber were good. Her abusive, good for nothing husband was good. The world was good...it was finally right.

"I thought royalty was exempt from common problems, especially drug addled ones."

Recognizing the voice, Yuffie frowned, the disappointment seeping out her pores, and turned her head to the side, "Royalty Smoyalty."

He laid on the lawn chair next to her, hands behind his head with a foot resting upon an erected knee, and stared up at the sky. He looked like an effortless James Dean, aloof and perfectly at peace. The blond coif residing at the top of his head matched perfectly with a pair of poignant cerulean eyes and slender nose. The man looked to be no older than twenty six but his serious demeanor and incredible maturity could cause someone to believe otherwise.

"I thought you said you were going to quit."

Yuffie opened her mouth and immediately closed it. She did say after her last score she would lay off so what excuse for her current situation did she have to offer. Flustered and growing extremely annoyed at the intrusion which caused her high to end sooner than expected, she quirked an eyebrow and stated, "I am going to quit and before you ask me when, I'm gonna emphasis the fact that I'm not explaining my detox initiative to a dead guy."

"Dead or not, I'm still all you have. I mean, that's why I'm here in the first place isn't it?"

"Whatever. I don't even want you here, you just won't leave."

Rufus smirked Shinra style before running his hand over a stray strand of hair, "I can't leave. You won't let me. Plus, I don't know why you're getting pissed at me; I'm not the one who came here willingly."

"I sure as hell didn't will you here. There are so many other people I'd rather use a hallucination on," Yuffie passionately fired back contrary to her head and limbs getting heavier by the second. She desperately fought her mind against entering temporary entropy as well, but the more time wore thin, the more her brain wanted to collapse and nod off. She glared at the deceased ex-president of Shinra Inc. with all the will power she had left to exert; it was the only thing keeping her mind conscience.

Rufus Shinra. Why out of every man, woman, and child alike was this monster the only person her mind could envision as an acceptable epiphany? Granted, Yuffie was high, but nonetheless this man's only contribution in her life was, ironically, near death experiences. He had only started coming to her recently and staying for minutes at a time. During their time together, conversations seemed to revolve around unresolved issues which had tendencies to result in sleepless nights. The visions were odd but in a very liberating type of way. It was kind of like having a discussion with herself, but her opposing half possessing more knowledge than she herself did.

So why Rufus? That was still to be determined.

"First of all, it's not who you would use a hallucination on, it's what you should use it on because your life's a fucking disaster," Rufus explained, carelessly looking down at his nails, after rolling his eyes at her childish jab, "Second of all, that prick husband of yours is just using you and I know you yourself know from experience that using leads to betraying. You've been aware of it all along, so what's up with the hesitation? Divorce him."

"I can't."

Shinra laughed his cocky bellow, placing his hand dejectedly on his forehead while squinting his eyes and focusing on the incoherent child next to him, "How are you a queen in waiting? You're such a pussy."

"Fuck you. I'm not divorcing the guy because I AM thinking in terms of Wutai," Yuffie exclaimed, unable to raise her voice but still red in the face and sick in the stomach from all the excitement, as her hands balled up into two tiny fists, "If I divorce Octavian, he'll go after Wutai just to ruin me. Wutai's already in bad shape, worse than it's ever been. I'm not gonna be the reason it gets completely destroyed."

Rufus laughed again but this time in a deprecating way, "You're a wimp. You run away from everything and try to make it better by running off to the next accessibly safest choice. Reno screwed you over, so you run back home to daddy, who you ran away from in the first place because he was too controlling. Correction, you're not only a wimp, you're a hypocrite too. You've got an opportunity to make it work out but you don't do shit because you're too busy getting high and living comfortably in the familiar. Stop being such a sissy and show some respect for yourself and your country! You're about to get screwed again, so either save me a trip, stop bitching and roll over and take it or realize this isn't what you deserve and take a stand. Do something and do it quick because we both know you don't have much time."

Yuffie began to crash from the high leaving her system. Her brain stopped functioning, body taking on weight characteristics of a lead pipe, and eyes blurring from strain. Breathing softly, she shut her eyes and tried to hold on to the dull euphoria still lingering in her system. He was right. She was only miserable because she knew she was too weak to change. Yuffie never considered her available options; she became so accustomed to her routine that fear of altering it the slightest bit gave her uncontrollable anxiety. It was unacceptable, so she remained faithful to the abuse.

"I hate you, Rufus," Yuffie whispered to the weightless air which took the late Rufus Shinra's place on the chair beside her. She curled herself up and finally allowed her body to remain at a much desired rest, "but you're right."

-

Reeve rubbed at his temples as he stared long and hard at the file on his desk. A familiar face stared back in an almost patronizing way; he closed his eyes but continued the circular pattern along the sides of his head. The Mako surging through today's soil was far more potent and fatal than it had ever been in Shinra's possession. It was believed since Sephiroth's reign of terror, he manipulated the earth itself, polluting and mutating it. The world's elements have and will never be the same due to the perversion of years past. Unfortunately, one of his own had to suffer at the hands of this contamination to draw his company's attention to this unholy substance.

Sighing, he opened his eyes again and focused on the information. About a month ago, Reeve had discovered a fair amount of individuals still stationed around the vicinity of Icicle Inn. Many of its inhabitants, who have been foolish enough to stick around after Meteor, had fallen severely ill, so the president sent a recovery team to the glacier with the intent of bringing as many survivors back for treatment. Since the town was in such close proximity to the Northern Crater, he suspected the resulting ailments were caused by an acute Mako infection. Keeping this inkling of a feeling in mind, Reeve specifically sent the Turks, Cloud immediately volunteering his services soon after receiving word, due to their past exploitations to Mako injections.

The mission had been going very smoothly, Shinra's do-gooders already putting away close to fifteen of the twenty survivors in the Highwind. As Reno exited the aircraft followed by Rude and Cloud to recover the last of their bunch, Elena seemed to lag behind. Her usual glowing complexion was clammy and blonde whisps of hair fell flat from sweat and clung intently against her face and neck. Breaths came out in puffs rather than at a slow even pace and as her hand tentatively touched her chest, Elena collapsed near the exit, drawing the necessary attention to alert the others.

When Elena and the others were rushed into the lab, the attending analyst gasped at the numbers yet retained his state of reality and went right to work. Reno, Rude, Cloud, and Reeve stood by, keeping themselves busy through different actions yet all conducted in accordance of complete silence. It was hours before Dr. Ferrara emerged from his station with a stern look to match his devastating results.

"It doesn't look good for the ones you brought in from glacier. Since they have never been exposed to any degree of Mako energy, their bodies completely shut down from the severity of the chemicals which poisoned them. They will stay alive but comatose until their organs deteriorate completely from the acid content of the energy. If by some holy miracle someone does end up waking up, they'll be a vegetable, no functioning brain waves or organs. The vital organs will be doing their part, but barely and eventually, with time, they will pass away as well."

"What about Elena?" Reeve asked, his throat closing up from the tense atmosphere as his eyes shifted between Dr. Ferreira and Rude.

"Well, Elena is a different story. Since she's a Turk, her body has been exposed to the sufficient amount of Mako to keep her from suffering the same fate of the villagers. The only reason why she lapsed into her comatose stage is because the Mako I found coursing through all the patients' bloodstream was nothing like I've ever seen. The amount of elements I found in one molecule far outweighs a normal, healthy compound structure, therefore causing it to lack the equilibrium usually found within a natural energy source."

"In layman's terms," Reno retorted, rolling his eyes while unconsciously fiddling with the unlit cigarette in his hand.

"In layman's terms, the energy I found in those people is like an energy source from another planet. There's no way our word has the sufficient amount of sources necessary to produce Mako of this caliber. In my honest opinion, if this kind of dark matter leaks into our infrastructure, we're in for another impending apocalypse, fellows, and this time, we won't have a prayer for survival."

Three weeks later, Elena was still unconscious and Shinra Inc. had twenty bodies to bury as well as a lot of explaining to do. He thumbed the cover to the file and sighed again, this time a little more drawn out. All Reeve could think about was Dr. Ferrara's warning and how The Thunders Corporation had been tapping into toxic Mako the earth was trying to cleanse itself of. He was starting to realize how the company had skyrocketed into success within such a short time frame. If the doctor had been correct in his observations, a mere gallon of generated Mako could easily power an entire sector. If he had been correct, than Shinra's military along with AVALANCHE would have to regroup and put an end to their monopoly before they resurrect another Sephiroth.

It was easier said than done. Four years ago, if Thunders had been alive and kicking as hard as it was now, Reeve would have no problem putting those bastards in their place. But today, Renton had assumed power and brought along with him an old friend of his; an old friend who still remained in his mind and conscience. How could he come at Thunders full force when Yuffie was a part of this whole debacle? How could Yuffie even allow the rebirth of Mako reactors? Aside from Barrett and Tifa, she was the one who saw first hand what a reactor could do to a country's well being during the Wutai-Shinra war. Where was her spunk and energy? Had she truly become a different person?

There were so many questions he needed to ask, but the only person who could answer them had disappeared from off the wave of telecommunication. Reeve constantly found himself worrying about her, even feeling guilty about the way things had turned out the last time they spoke. If he had persuaded her to stay with old friends, Yuffie would have been here planning Thunders' takedown instead of with Thunders planning Shinra's takedown. He had seen Reno as a younger brother since the day Tseng invited him into Turks, but he was furious at the brazen red head for the tight spot he had forced him into because of his selfishness.

"Anyone alive in here?"

Reeve smiled once his eyes elevated and met with a second pair of beautiful aqua ones. Waving his guest in, he closed the folder and leaned back into his chair, "Barely. Everything okay?"

Scarlet walked through the large double doors, closed them, and placed her back against the intricately carved red oak surface. Twirling a strand of green, the weapon's expert smirked and declared, "If I said no, would you come over here and make me feel better?"

Reeve's smile grew wider as he stood up from his desk and approached the siren. He leaned forward, almost teasing, and light laid kisses along her elongated neck before nibbling his way across her sharp perfumed collarbone, "I'm glad you came by."

"I figured you would be," she purred, tilting his face up and placing full crimson lips against her boss's. Scarlet cupped her hands around his jaw and slipped her tongue through a small opening while smirking against him at notice of his urgency for her escalate. She ran her unoccupied hand through his jet black hair and rested it at the back of his neck; she ran her fingertips over the base to create a shuddering sensation.

Reeve pulled back and smiled again before grabbing his partner's hand and leading her over to his chair where he fell back into it and took her down with him. Wrapping his arm around her slender waist, he rested his chin on her shoulder as she lay comfortably back against him. He shifted dark eyes towards his company and simply said, "I'm choking up."

"What?"

He moved his face to lean his forehead against her back after creating swirls with his thumbs against the fabric separating his touch from bare skin. Feeling her shift, Reeve raised his other hand and lightly placed it on her shoulder to hold her still, "I thought I could take over and make a difference. I thought I was strong enough to handle whatever might come at me but I never thought I would have to go up against an old friend. I just realized I'm not the leader I have to be. Shinra, both father and son, might have been monsters but at least they knew how to separate whatever feelings they might have had away from the job."

"I can't believe you're comparing yourself to the Shinras. Those two were dictators with no remorse; they did whatever they could to get ahead. Of course you can't forget their bringing into existence a sadist lunatic like Sephiroth," Scarlet pointed out quite effectively while nudging her lover's grasp so she could turn to face him, "If you want to be like the Shinras why are you even trying to destroy the Thunders Corporation? You should be calling them up for advice."

Reeve exhaled a little more roughly than necessary before pointing at the file on his desk. Watching as she reached and opened its contents, he inquired, "If I'm such an amazingly flawless president, why couldn't I help her? And even if she couldn't be saved, why can't I separate my guilt from my duties? I mean, she's an enemy now no matter how much I wanna rationalize the topic. She's a part of the organization which could be responsible for yet another apocalypse, so I should do my part and bring her and Renton down, right?"

A frown denounced her attractive features into a state of mediocrity as her forehead wrinkled slightly. She looked up from the information and reached out the caress a scruffy cheek sympathetically, "So this is what's been keeping you up at night?"

He nodded while running his hand through his hair in pent up frustration.

"You know, you should stop blaming yourself for what happened to Yuffie. I understand her predicament but she made a choice and her choice was to align herself with the enemy. That, love, unfortunately makes her an enemy as well. Nobody wants to believe the facts but Yuffie Kisaragi, the loudmouthed AVALANCHE brat, is dead. Kisaragi doesn't exist; Renton does. If we don't stand up and do something soon, we're going to face ourselves with another crisis and this time, we might not make it out alive."

"I know. I know and I realize that but I can't help but consider what happened to her. She's with that asshole because she lacked experience and options; she was a kid and Reno knew that," Reeve exclaimed but stopped in mid-sentence knowing he was going to far, "I know what I have to do. I just hate that it had to come to this."

Scarlet wrapped her arms around the disheartened man before her and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

Reeve held the vixen on his lap while reaching for the file in her hands, closing it, and throwing it into the waste bin beside his desk. He pushed haunting and guilty second thoughts out of his head while replacing them with plans of a new world order, ones lacking the endangerment Thunders so negligently provided.

-

Reno removed the cigarette from between dried lips and exhaled excess smoke from his lungs. The day was beginning to lag on and granted he didn't mind looking after Elena in Rude's behalf; he hated the restlessness so closely associated with the process of patiently waiting. The red head had brought cards, books, a sketchpad, and even paperwork which needed to be sorted out, but within a half hour's time, he threw in the towel as the tedium became more than he could bear.

Fiddling with the filter of his burning smoke, he casually looked up at his blonde teammate. She had been comatose for close to a month and Reno was beginning to wonder if the doctor had been blowing smoke where her recovery was concerned. Rude had been quieter than ever, keeping his shades fused upon his eyes and attitude very sullen. A normal acquaintance would have assumed the bald Turk was acting naturally, but Reno knew better. He was suffering; it was just in a less orthodox way.

He inhaled the cigarette again but this time, Reno leaned back on two of the chair's legs and puffed O's with the smoke in his mouth. This had been a trait acquired through boredom, a trait which he possessed since the tender age of thirteen when he had first picked up a cigarette. The walking chimney had been the only one of his friends, past and present alike, which had been able to execute a perfectly shaped O from the confines of their mouth. Scarlet had came in a close second, almost taking his title, but her O soon deteriorated mere seconds after it escaped her mouth.

His mind soon flashed back to the most humorous experience where a smoky O was concerned. It was almost four years ago and Yuffie and he had been peacefully lying in bed at his apartment. He sat smoking like usual as she read a book; her head laid opposite his own while her delicate feet used his shoulders as a footstool - something that was supposed to bother him with his temper but, surprisingly, didn't.

"Why do you have to smoke? It's so nasty," Yuffie responded after tearing her attention away from her piece of literature and making a contorted face.

"Nasty? You mean second hand smoke nasty or bad habit nasty because if we're getting into nasty bad habits, we seriously need to talk about you picking your cuticles and how fucking unnecessary that is."

Yuffie threw her book at Reno, who dodged it skillfully with a turn of his head, and pouted, "Smoking's a little less necessary than a not so fatal habit from birth, buddy."

"You're tearing skin from your fingers and making them bleed. My habit might be fatal but at least it's not masochistic," he retorted which in turn gained him a kick to the side of his neck. Quirking an eyebrow, Reno diabolically smirked, "Plus, you need skill to smoke a cigarette."

Yuffie snorted, "Skill? More like a death wish."

"Seriously," he responded in a matter-o-factly tone before raising the stick, inhaling, and puffing out a perfectly shaped O, "No rookie could puff like that."

"That's so easy. All you have to do is shape your lips the right way, any dumbass could do it. Makes sense why it's at the top of your very short list of skills."

Reno said nothing but extended the dwindling cigarette at his challenger with a 'prove it' demand practically seeping through his pores and into her presence. Yuffie smirked; she reached out, took the object of competition from his grasp, and slowly lifted it towards her lips.

"Better hurry up and prove me wrong, princess. The cigarette isn't gonna stay lit forever."

Witnessing the smug look on his rugged features, Yuffie muttered something under her breath, sharply inhaled, and choked loudly from the foreign substance invading her small physique. Reno grabbed the cigarette before she dropped it onto the mattress and smiled wider at the lung hacking coughs the younger individual produced. Finishing with one more drag, the Turk laughed while stating, clearly amused, "I've got a whole pack you can try your luck on and trust me when I say, I'm not wasting my money. The type of entertainment you'd be giving me, well, you couldn't put a price on that."

Yuffie continued to cough, her entire body violently shaking, yet she called upon enough energy to swing her fist and frog her cocky companion hard on the shoulder.

Frowning, Reno took one more drag and put the smoke out on an available ashtray. Thinking back on that particular memory also caused him to recall the most recent occurrence the inkling of guilt procured in her honor. Two words - Cyrinda Quinton. Cyrinda was the beautiful blonde which had begun working at Tifa and Cloud's bar not too long ago. The first time she had walked by, her flowery perfume invigorated his senses while her stunning figure sashayed and danced especially for his eyes only. At first, he blamed it on the one toke he had taken with three of the Turk's newest trainees but a week later, she was still on his libido's mind.

He had returned to Seventh Heaven with one mission in mind - Take Cyrinda back to his place. Now this mission was daring and rather ballsy, something which rivaled D-day to a T, but he was willing to accept it. Why? Because horniness and a beautiful woman were the only two components which would make any man do stupid things. Plus, Reno realized taking up stupid initiatives was his trade mark so there was no real risk involved.

She had immediately rejected him.

The next night, he tried his luck again but this time putting more effort into his words and gestures. It was no use, even though she smiled and responded in equal flirtation to his attempt, she had still rejected him.

Frustrated, Reno had given up after the fourth night after realizing the only way he would be able to take this woman home was to spike her drink, a method he never wanted to belittle himself into resorting to. One night, he had walked into the bar with intentions of strictly ordering a drink but found himself instead face to face with his conquest. Cyrinda had just broken up with her boyfriend and with a single hand on his leg asked him to escort her home. With a song in his heart and a skip to his step, the second rate Casanova automatically obliged and walked out the door, arm in arm with the Nobel Prize of ass.

They walked to his apartment, entered, and had a quick drink and smoke to calm down any overactive nerves. Everything had been going rather smoothly at first but after a sufficient time had lapsed and still not a word had been uttered, Reno began to reconsider her intentions. It wasn't until Cyrinda arose from her spot on the couch and climbed into Reno's lap that all his inadequacies of the uneventful moment disappeared. She ravaged her lips against his as four pairs of hands eagerly explored each other's assets. Having enough of the petting and minor foreplay, he lifted and transported her into the bedroom.

It didn't take long before their intended night of casual disrespectful unattached sex happened. Tearing at each other's clothing, both fell onto the mattress and pawed at each other in an animalistic manner. They achieved their bliss as the act began but about ten minutes into their session as she proceeded to take charge and climb on top, Reno opened his eyes to obtain a clear view of his partner and shouted at the Yuffie clone straddling him. She smiled almost manically down at him whispering, "I'm one of a kind, baby. Don't think you can get the same thrill from her that you used to get from me."

Reno, frightened, threw his hallucination off of him and onto the floor. He ran his hand threw his shaggy hair in confusion and looked apologetically at a fuming Cyrinda, who slowly began to rise and rub at her injured side. About to explain, the curvaceous blonde put her hand up in a 'forget it' motion while gathering up her clothes and storming out of the room with a slam of the door. Holding the back of his neck, he leaned forward and loudly shouted, "Fuck!"

It had been the second time this had happened and, ironically, it had happened with girls who cost him an arm and a leg to sleep with. He didn't understand the sudden need to think and see his ex-girlfriend during these specific sexual encounters. Reno had started to believe he was being haunted, paid back for his insidious betrayal some years back. He remembered the look on her face before she permanently walked out on him. She was pissed and even looking as though she was falling apart at the seams. Today, years later, he still didn't regret the infamous plan; he just wished he could have executed it differently.

"Reno."

Looking over his shoulder, Reno smirked and stretched his arms in the air, "Thank god, man, I was starting to get cabin fever. Being in a place like this reminds me why I always hated hospitals and anything resembling one."

Rude walked towards Elena's bed and looked down at her while resting his hands near hers. He was never good at public displays of affection even during a dire circumstance such as this. Hand holding, kissing, and hugging were not in his code of conduct, after all he was a Turk and a Turk wasn't a hand holding, wishy-washy kissy huggy type of person. Rude was strong and Rude would remain strong; that was and will always be his personal motto.

"Nothing changed," Reno began, putting another cigarette in his mouth and lighting it, "Ferrara's been in here taking her stats but she's still in her own little world. He's got high expectations where her recovery is concerned, though, so that's something to keep you going.

"..."

Rude and Elena became an item when Meteor had been seconds away from striking. Elena and her overactive mouth had proven to be asset in the situation since it was more than obvious Rude would never bring himself to open his. She told him she had liked him since that one moment on Da Cho; the moment where she was hanging upside down and threatened to be dropped by that scumbag Corneo. She said the look on his face was genuine, proving that he really cared, and that she had just wanted to tell him that before she died - something about a clear conscience. Then, Elena leaned in and kissed him on the cheek causing the bald assassin to slightly blush. Reno had never laughed harder in his life.

"It'll be alright, man. She'll wake up," the shorter of the two affirmed before slapping his friend on the back reassuringly, "I'm gonna go back to my apartment and get some sleep. I'll be back to check up on you two in a couple of hours."

Just as Reno turned his back and was about to walk out of the room, he heard Rude's deep voice drawl, "I guess more than just your hair changed after Sephiroth and Meteor."

Smiling, he scratched the back of his head. It was still strange feeling around and not running into the rubber band holding his ponytail in place. About two weeks after he buried that creep, Johnny, from the slums and endured that nasty confrontation with Yuffie, Reno reached for the scissors and chopped his ponytail off. He deemed losing the hair as a cleansing process, so therefore once he caught sight of, what he called, the red noose of oppression sailing to the ground, he believed he was the equivalent of a man who had lost his memory.

"One more thing. I talked to Reeve before I came here. He's going forward with the plan," Rude announced, valuing his comrade's privacy by refusing to turn around and observe his expression, "We're going to war with Thunders."

Reno froze in place as his smile quickly inverted into a stern disposition. He was afraid this would happen. Shortly after Yuffie had walked out on him, his conscience refused to leave him alone. He assumed it had grown so tired of ignoring all the heinous things its corporal self had done throughout their life that it decided to step up and finally do something about it. Reno had nightmares, daydreams, and even lingering thought about Yuffie constantly. It was only after her face had materialized in reality on another woman during the heat of passion that he finally agreed to make amends for his treachery. It was also around the same time he had discovered that Yuffie Kisaragi was now Yuffie Kisaragi-Renton.

"It was a long time coming," the usually verbose instigator finally proclaimed to the news as he made his way out of the room. Not going very far, he walked down the hall, leaned against the wall, and took an extremely long drag from his cigarette.

The Thunders corporation was finally starting to come around; its then president Daniel Thunders resorting to any method necessary to make his fledgling company successful, including using the one life source that had previously been associated with the end of the world. Originally, Thunders had always been a topic of discussion during Reeve's board meetings but a corporate war was the farthest thing from anyone's mind.

Reeve had brought to the employees of Shinra's attention that the planet would face another crisis if they did not force negotiation with Daniel Thunders about his choice of Mako products. He also explained that they should be prepared for whatever may come. It was only until one of the newest Turks had pointed out that since the founding father was succumbing to retirement sooner than expected, Octavian Renton would take over his throne. Shinra's president immediately stopped for a moment, obviously in a pensive daze, before continuing with the briefing. It didn't take long for Reeve to discover how toxic this new Mako energy was when twenty people had died and one of their own had fallen into a coma. The rest, as they say, was history.

It was starting to become clear why he had, yet again, seen Yuffie's face during his encounter with Cyrinda. His conscience was giving him a small reminder of his promise in the form of a premonition. Reno knew what he had to do.

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A/N : And finally, dah-dah-dah-dum, chapter one has been completed. I know it was a long time coming. Sorry if the chapter ended so abruptly (I have a habit of doing that don't I?) but this chapter was starting to look very much like the prologue in terms of length. Well, I hope you like it. I'd like to thank you all for your reviews because they helped me keep going :D Stay tuned for the next chapter!