Long expositions in this chapter, and couple of onomatopoeias. I'm still practicing, so please cut me some slack!

RaspberryPolarBear - Heh. StarlessEyes will be screaming "Join the club!" The only thing I seem to be good at is cliffhangers, and I hate it myself, so what can I say? Sorry ifI sound short, I was writing an English paper on Huckleberry Finn which bored me out of my mind and into Reno's bed... I mean, my bed. (is beaten to death by random reno fangirls)

Princess-Starr - that makes three of you. You guys should really start "We hate Cliffhangers" group or something... and I'll join :-D. I hate cliffies. I really do. But somehow I can't stop. Help Anyways, that isn't the point! (Sleep deprivation and raging fever for the past couple of days isn't conducive on writing) Anyways...

Not my best chapter. Maybe my worst. Dunno. But please, bear patience and read on...


Chapter 3: Life in Wutai

Arien was asleep on Reno's shoulder, which might have merited much envy. She herself did not believe that the envy was well merited either. Reno's shoulder was bony and hard, and it hardly served as a pillow. In her half-dream state, she decided that something that was supporting her head was definitely not well suited. It hurt.

Reno, on the other hand, was preoccupied. He was returning to Wutai and was meeting her father for the first time properly. It was really too bad they could not meet under a happier occasion. But still, first time was first time, and he decided that he wouldn't worry about it. Arien should have told Old Myers (his real name was something completely different and definitely more Wutaian, but for Reno, Arien's father was Myers DeVir) that he was no good boy. If she didn't… well, that was not his problem. He raised the hand that was not pinned down by Arien's torso and caressed her face, removing the hair that covered her eyes. She looked wan and seemed to have aged a decade over the night. Well, that was to be expected. Finishing the glass of Costa Del Sol 25 red wine and picking at the remaining dish of olives and cheese that Arien had ordered, he looked outside from the small window by the woman's seat. He suddenly remembered the night before, the hour that plunged his girlfriend into panic and hysteria.

The call from the night before was not a herald of joy. Arien DeVir's twin sister, Reniel DeVir, was returned to Wutai by Arien's friends after Professor Hojo's assistant attempted to implant raw, unsynthesized materia and mako into the Turk. Unknowing the plan, Arien and Reniel made a switch to serve their own purposes; Arien just wanted to get out, and Reniel wanted Renaldo Miller. Reniel, who was just a Shinra secretary and had no training or the mako treatment that her sister had, reacted violently with the implant; the implant had rendered the young Wutaian witless and debilitated. With no hope of extended life, Ivana Delassi and Zen Flescher smuggled the twin out during one night and returned her to Wutai, where at least she could die in peace. The call had informed the Turks that Reniel DeVir was in a spasmodic fit and was in danger. Abandoning Tseng's orders and requesting immediate suspension from all duties as Turks, the two left The Edge and caught a flight that went to Wutai at once. Arien herself really had no idea why she was doing this. She hated Reniel. But then, she had condemned her twin sister to a slow death and it was the least she could do for Rennie and her father. Reno came with her without any question or words. She wondered why he came along, but she was thankful that he did. She would rather have someone with her than none at all.

"We are landing shortly to our destination; please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing," the intercom spoke. Arien shook her head, mumbled, and woke up. She reached out and popped an olive into her mouth. Her pink turtleneck was almost white in the sunlight. Reno looked at her.

"We're nearly here. Oh, by the way, you look good in pink."

They walked from the airport to the center of the town. They never carried around much luggage; they came in few duffel bags but nothing else. Bags on shoulders, they waded their way through the crowded avenues, Arien in the lead and Reno following. Even though Shinra had defeated this metropolis over seven years ago, life was still teeming in the houses and the stores; people lived here, carried out their lives. It was late into the night, and stars were twinkling in the indigo evening sky; people were rushing about, doing last minute shopping and vendors closing their stores. A fishery was yelling, "Last sale for today! Good fish! Half-price for all fish!" Arien stopped momentarily to observe the fish, exchanged few rapid words in Wutaian, and then suddenly made a purchase, then walked on. Reno could guess what was going to be on the dinner table tonight. Again.

The two turned around Turtle Paradise and walked a few more lengths, when the woman stopped in front of a small house. The house had a very low doorframe and a very low roof, and the windows were curtained and shut. Without hesitating, she stepped up to the door.

"Father!" Arien knocked. "Father, please, open the door!"

The door opened a little, and an eye peered out. "Arien!" Myers DeVir exclaimed. "Oh, my daughter…"

"May we come in?"

"Of course." He opened the door wide and saw a redheaded figure standing behind her, grinning. She followed his gaze and turned her head.

"Oh… uh, Father?" She gestured vaguely. "Meet Reno."


As far as Reno cared, Myers DeVir looked nothing impressive. Like father, like daughter, as the old saying went. Well, this applied. Tall, thin and angular, the old man emitted an aura still particular to spies – mess with me, you're dead. Still, when he looked upon his daughter, he turned into a father – a smiling but a worrying father.

Arien was staring into her tea, and Reno secretly wondered if she was trying to discern the future from the tea – or something. She sat, motionless, after returning from putting the fish in the fridge, like a marionette with the strings cut. Inhaling the cigarette smoke and feeling the nicotine crave abate, he looked around his surroundings. It was a small house, but a good one, and each nook and cranny had a woman's touch that remained undisturbed. It wasn't Arien's or Reniel's – it was quite distinctively someone else's. Probably Arien's mother. Myers was not wearing the regular clothes from Midgar but traditional Wutaian kimono and hakama; his raven hair was cult to a little longish length, up to his shoulders. Her chin – the narrow, angular chin – and the hair was straight from the man sitting in front of him.

Looking around even more, he realized there was no picture of what could be presumed as Flera DeVir. Arien had told him once what her mother looked like – it was a vague memory, but she could still describe her quite well. According to Arien's memory, Flera's hair was brown and slightly wavy, with full lips, large blue eyes and a gently sloping nose. But he could find no picture of her. He surmised that maybe Myers could not bear being reminded of his wife all day long. After all, the infamous Shinra spy was said to be in love with the gentle perfume maker so much.

"It's getting late, Arien," Myers said finally. "And you have to get up early to see Rennie tomorrow. Why don't you go to bed… oh, wait." He looked down. "We only have two beds…"

"Father," Arien said, first hint of smile coming to her face. "Reno and I have been in same bed before. Another time won't kill us. Although…" She shot a sideway glance. "If you kick me, Renaldo Miller, you're sleeping on the floor. Got it, buster?"

"Got it," he replied, grinning.

The bath was still Wutai style. Washing the care off her body, she dipped a large basin into the tub and splashed herself with it, reveling in the water that did not constantly beat on her. Her hair was glossy from the moisture, and her face was scrubbed clean.

After making sure that the water was not too cold, she stepped into the tub and sank herself into the warm comfort of the water. She still disliked the Midgar way of taking a bath – it was what she called "cat's bath", which was merely a lick and a promise. Despite the circumstances, she was happy to be back, to the old home, where she knew how things worked. Sure, she knew how things worked in The Edge and Midgar, but she could not get rid of the feeling that she was an outsider. No matter what she did, it was obvious that she was not a native.

Her contemplation was broken when Reno barged into the bathroom, his hair free from the elastic, stark naked except for a towel around his hip.

"Yarrgh!" She screamed and backed and kicked all at once. Her foot connected solidly with the tub and he and she screamed again. The towel fell onto the floor in a white "fluff", but neither of them cared. They were glaring at each other, Arien in the tub, Reno in the doorway.

"I'm still taking a bath!" She shouted.

"You've been in it for almost an hour, yo! What are you trying to do, lose weight?"

Ouch. Touchy subject. Arien's nostrils flared. "You… you insensitive jerk!" She yelled. "You don't give a damn about anything, do you!" She stood up from the tub, making a loud "splash".

"You know…" Reno grinned.

"What?"

"I've never seen you naked in this good light before." He made a motion with his hands as if he was holding a camera. "Pasha!" He mouthed with a wink.

Arien screamed and tried to sit back down. She slipped and hit her head on the rim of the tub with a slight "gonk", and wailed in pain. Reno stepped in, grinning. Closing the thatch, he sat down on a low stool and grabbed the bottle of shampoo.

"By all that's holy and unholy, Arie…" he cackled. "You're hilarious."

More whimper.

Myers DeVir grinned slightly and shook his head.


Arien woke up the next day to a very early sunshine. Stretching and yawning, she nearly kicked Reno when she stretched her legs. Come to think of it, why was his leg on top of her lower abdomen? And why was his hair in her mouth? Spitting out the red hair and disgusted by the fact that Reno's hair was in her mouth, she stretched again, then lay there for a moment, thinking. Reno was not a very good sleeper. He tossed around, kicked and punched, and it was not a rare occasion in which he ended up upside down on the bed. There was even one time when Reno's foot was on her face.

Giggling at her own reaction when she found out that the heavy object on her face was not a muzzle but a foot, she sat up and stretched her foot onto the floor. It was not exactly a bed; it was a futon, and the floor was made of braided straw panels. She was home, away from the Midgarian conveniences such as beds and carpets that really weren't conveniences. She was in Wutai, and that meant natural conveniences. No cars, no fizzing beer that went everywhere, no cracks sold in the depth of the slums, no pollution. Even the air tasted good.

Of course, that would be all lost to Reno. He was a city kid through and through, raised in the polluted slop called Midgar Slums. One happiness that came from the destruction of Midgar was the destruction of the slums. Only good came out of that.

Except… Reno missed the pollution. He liked nature, sure, but he liked the excitement and the constant movement of the city even more. Arien sighed, then stood up and walked over to the duffle bag sitting placidly in the corner. Pulling out a cotton blue shirt and jeans, she put the attire on, and combed her hair. Elastic came off her wrist and held her lengthy hair in a high ponytail. Watch came onto her wrist, and a pistol went to the jean waist. Just in case.

She was leaving the room to wash her face when Reno woke up. "What the hell…?" he asked groggily. Arien snorted. First minute awake and out came the words "what the hell". Not "good morning" or "hey" or any civilized greetings. Just "what the hell".

It was not passion that held them together, she realized, as she looked for a towel in the shelf. It was not exactly love either. They weren't exactly lovey-dovey anymore; rather, it was companionship and friendship. And maybe love. Maybe.

It was a big maybe.

Fishing out a white fluffy towel, she splashed her face with cold water. The soap was generic and not the one she used in The Edge household, but she still used it. It smelled slightly of ginger; splashing more water on her face to get rid of the soap, she rubbed her face with the towel. She was now fully awake. And face the inevitable. Or not.

Walking out of the bathroom, she returned to the bedroom where Reno was sitting up, scratching his head. It was like a ritual. He had to scratch his head before he did anything else. Kneeling down by Reno's side, hands on the floor for support, she breathed, "Reno?"

"Yo, whaddup, babe." He smoothly kissed her and grinned. "You want to tell me something."

"Uh yeah." She blinked as his hair flashed in her eye. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"A favor?" he sat up straighter. "What?"

"I'm going to see Rennie today, and…"

"You want me to come with ya." He shrugged. "Sure."


They walked. Without breakfast, they left early, sneaking to the front door Turk style, trying not to wake Myers up. They both knew the old retired spy was a light sleeper – after years of life on alert, you had to be.

Arien was shaking a little, and Reno could see why. "You okay, yo?" he asked lightly.

"No," she replied. "It was my fault. All my fault."

Okay, so Arien was in the lapse of Cloud-ish "it was my fault, let me wallow and atone in my sin in peace". Reno shrugged. He could not do anything about it. Instead, he enjoyed the sunshine as it beat on his hair, his face, his pale green shirt he was wearing. After living with Arien, his attire had become brighter, and there were more pastel colors among his blacks compared to before, much to his chagrin. They were a weird spectacle – a black-haired woman in a pale blue shirt, a red-haired man in a bright green.

They sewed through the avenues like a needle dipping in and out of the cloth, when Arien stopped her gait. Her lips trembled in fear as she opened the door.