On a sort of related note to the story, I've noticed that the formula "Yuffie plus Arranged Marriage equals Shenanigans" is not exactly new around here. Worry not, readers, I have plans. Big plans. Chapter II is here.


"Well, it's been great meeting you, Mr. Godo!" Reno exclaimed so cheerily that it sounded like it hurt. "Yuffie, Rude and I will be going back to Costa Del Sol now so we can enjoy our marriage-free vacation together!"

"Sit down," Godo told the redhead. Reno sat down, shut up, and started to brood.

"What's this all about, Dad?" Yuffie demanded. "The one time you tried to arrange a marriage for me, I asked to see the groom, then beat his face in while his parents watched! You think this is going to turn out any better?"

Godo opened his mouth to reply and then stopped, scowling, when Reno started chuckling and gave Yuffie a high-five.

"If you're done," he growled at the young Turk, who adopted a serious expression and sat up, ramrod-straight. "Yuffie, things have radically changed in the few weeks in which you've been gone. Let me explain at length."

"Better than explaining at width," Reno cracked.

Godo ignored him and plowed onwards. "Your vehicle looked to me to have suffered damage. That is unsurprising; Wutai has been becoming decidedly isolationist within the past two years, and things took an abrupt turn for the worse while you were away. What's more, biker gangs have been springing up all over town. There are at least nine of them at this point. Additionally, they're all receiving arms and materiel from an unknown source, which is apparently bent on disrupting Wutai as best it can.

"This, coupled with the fact that however much we've become independent we're still almost fifty percent reliant on tourism, means that the economy is in serious danger. People will soon start to contemplate leaving Wutai for one of the other settlements in the world if this continues, and nobody will want to come and visit. The existence of a source influential enough to procure weapons such as assault rifles and explosive ordnance for biker gangs also troubles me greatly – we have a terrible enemy on our hands, it seems."

"And I suppose the police are sitting around sipping tea with their thumbs up their butts," Reno drawled.

"The police aren't trained to handle this sort of situation, nor are they widespread enough. We need a force that is capable of going toe-to-toe with these bike gangs, and foreign mercenaries are not an option because of the increasingly isolationist sentiment here, to say nothing of their prohibitive prices. If I asked you to beg assistance of your friend Cloud, even, the people would unite behind the biker gangs against his 'foreign oppression.' There are deep hatreds that scar us all from the war. Therefore, we need a force led by someone the people are comfortable with."

"And I'm going to be the price you pay this guy?" Yuffie snarled. "Dad, you've sunk real low."

Godo slammed his closed fist against the floor. The noise was loud and sharp, making the trio start in surprise. "My motives are my own, Yuffie, and you'll not question them. I do not like this, but it is my only option at this point."

"Telling her not to question questionable motives is like telling a Turk not to poke his nose into a file marked 'Top Secret,'" Reno growled. "It's stupid and just shows how damn ignorant the guy who gave the order is."

"Or how desperate," Godo shot back. "I apologize to you, Mr. Reno, as you are obviously involved with my daughter to some degree. I have no personal enmity for you – though that may change if you continue to behave so abhorrently – but I respectfully suggest that you terminate your relationship with my daughter before it causes undue difficulty with the proceedings ahead."

"Like hell I will," the redhead spat. "I'm not going to sit on the sidelines and watch you marry Yuffie off to some stupid, conceited sunuvabitch pansy-boy who hasn't set a foot outside his flat without an armed escort in his entire life and's only 'worthy' of her because he's got a big wallet!"

Godo waved a hand, and the doors set into the wall behind him slid aside to reveal two men seated in the room.

To Godo's left was an older man, looking to be fifty or sixty to Reno's eye. He was definitely not of Wutainese descent, as he bore the aristocratic features of Midgar's upper class – upswept brows, high cheekbones, a defined jaw and a strong chin. Brown irises stood out in piercing, hawklike eyes that had seemingly been riveted into the gaunt face, so deeply they were set. The man's hair was a light brown with grey streaks shot through it, and the first thing that struck Reno about his haircut was how military it was. It was combed straight back from his forehead and, though Reno could not see this, tapered to a precise point just above his neck. Regulation-short. The man was also dressed in what looked like a personal version of an old uniform – a light grey jacket, festooned with buttons and one diagonal crimson slash across the chest, its shoulders sporting small, identically-colored epaulets. His pants were the same light grey, and his boots were mid-calf length black studded leather. A real hard-ass.

To Godo's right was a much younger man, whose age Reno would guess to be about his own. He was definitely of Wutainese descent – slightly elongated eyes, a nose bordering on the small end of the spectrum, skin that had once been pale but was now weather-beaten. His eyes were brown as well, but they were set more softly into his face, and they possessed a fiery, fiercely intelligent air. His jaw was not as strong as the older man's, but he still gave off a very masculine aura. What might have once been full lips were compressed into a thin, bloodless line, and his eyebrows drew close to one another over his nose as though frowning was his natural expression. He wore a black leather jacket thrown over a black tee-shirt, and the sunglasses he'd perched on his forehead were nearly swallowed by the unruly, dark mass of hair that sprouted from his head and fanned out in all directions. He wore old jeans that were faded from age and leather boots that were even more impressive than those worn by the man next to him. When he saw Yuffie, he grinned, and the expression changed his face from that of a dour, moody adult to an adulated boy. He knows her from somewhere.

"These," Godo said to Yuffie, "are your suitors." He indicated the older man to his left. "This is Sub-General Karsk. He served as Sephiroth's second-in-command during the war. However, after the war ended, Shin-Ra made him and his elite unit the garrison for Wutai and withdrew the rest of the army, effectively abandoning him. Sub-General Karsk therefore resigned his commission and instituted a mass mutiny amongst his men against the Shin-Ra, then publicly apologized for his part in the war and was ready to kill himself in shame if I had not stopped him. He has lived among us for a long time now, as have his men. In exchange for your hand in marriage, Yuffie, he is willing to reorganize his unit – all of whom have gone on to lead normal lives as citizens and to be accepted by the people – and help us combat the biker gangs."

"And you couldn't just tell him to do this why?" Yuffie asked.

"Because," the man spoke up from behind Godo, "Lord Godo is a man of equity, and would not demand such a heavy service from me without providing an appreciably valuable reward. I am an old man, and as such I find it difficult to enjoy any female companionship, of which I've had none in the past several decades. I am not demanding, nor do I expect anything ungracious of you, Lady Kisaragi. Please consider my offer." His voice was deep and vibrant, colored with a clipped accent that underlaid his precise mode of speech.

"As though," she snarled.

Looking unperturbed, Godo continued, indicating the younger man to his right. "You already know Makoto, Yuffie. However, what you do not know is that he has recently become the head of one of the largest and most powerful biker gangs, who have dubbed themselves the Shinsengumi. Out of all the gangs, the Shinsengumi have been the most 'well-behaved,' and though they have participated in violence, it has been entirely against enemy gangs and not carried out against the populace. Additionally, they have received supplies from this mystery source as well, and they possess connections in the underground. Makoto has agreed to draft himself and his gang into government service to eliminate the other gangs for your hand in marriage."

Makoto's grin broadened. "It's like the old saying, 'It takes a thief to catch a thief.'" He spoke confidently, with a low-pitched drawl that did not rival Karsk's baritone but had its own aural flavor.

"'No honor among thieves,'" Reno quoted.

The gang leader's gaze slid from Yuffie to Reno in one swift motion. "Who the hell're you?"

Reno swaggered to his feet, something that seemed impossible to do but that he'd perfected. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm permitting myself to introduce the one and only man from the shadows – a mysterious stranger with no past, no foibles, and no mercy – the one and only, amazing, spectacular, tetra-magnificent… Yuffie's Boyfriend!"

His proclamation was met with stony silence from Godo, Karsk, and Makoto, while Yuffie squealed only half-mockingly and applauded and Rude looked like he would rather be anywhere else than sitting next to Reno.

"Charmed," Makoto finally said after Yuffie had stopped clapping. His tone vaguely reminded of glaciers scraping against one another. "And what do you have to offer Yuffie?"

"I'm a sex machine and a great kisser."

"How droll. Sit back down."

Reno grinned insolently at the gang leader and gave him a wink before collapsing back into a cross-legged position and turning to Godo. "Like I said, gramps, Yuffie's not going to marry either of these tools. So what say you let us go and enjoy the rest of our vacation?"

"I will not tolerate this any further," Godo snarled. His ears were turning red and he looked as though he was about to blow his top – or perhaps blow Reno's head off. "While I appreciate the situation this puts you in, I will not stand here and listen to your prattling."

"You're sitting," Reno interjected.

"SILENCE!" The trio all involuntarily jerked backwards from Godo's explosion. "I will give you three days, Yuffie, to decide which one of these gentlemen you would like to have as your husband. If you have not made up your mind by then, we will determine who will have your hand by the throw of a die, as is the old custom. I do not care to do this, but it is the only way to preserve Wutai." He motioned stiffly at the exit. "Now get out of here, all of you."

Reno got back to his feet and offered Yuffie a hand up, which she took. "Right. So long, gramps. I hope you're happy with what you're doing to your daughter." Instinctively wrapping his arm around her, Reno guided Yuffie out of the room. She followed his lead, casting one last glance over her shoulder at her father before disappearing.

Silently, Rude got up and walked towards the door. He paused as he reached the exit, looked back over his shoulder just as she had, and said, "Very sad."

And he was gone.


"We're leaving," Reno said the moment all of them were out of the pagoda. "Partner, you got enough ordnance on you to construct us a hole if we're interfered with?"

Rude gave him a look. "Is the sky blue?"

"I'd say so. Yuffie, let's go."

Abruptly, Yuffie stopped walking, and Reno was pulled backwards as the arm he had around her shoulders refused to move with the rest of him. "What's the matter?"

For a long, tense while, Yuffie stared down at her boots, obviously thinking. Reno could see that she was chewing the inside of her right cheek, something she only did when she was thinking hard.

Finally, the ninja-girl looked up at Reno. "I can't leave."

"Sure you can."

"No, Reno, I really can't. How can I leave now, after Dad's made these arrangements?"

"You get back in the car with us and let me drive back to the docks, where we get on a ship and never come back. Simple as that."

Yuffie shook her head. "No, we can't do that. If I run away now, I really can't ever come back. Dad'll never let me back into Wutai because I'll have deserted it."

"You aren't telling me that you're actually going to marry one of those jerks, are you?" Reno asked in disbelief. He immediately winced and voiced a brief exclamation of surprise when Yuffie gave him a conk on the head.

"Of course not, dummy! Karsk has to be forty years older than me, and Makoto… well. Screw him. I just don't want to run out on Wutai when it needs help, y'know?"

Reno straightened up and glanced at Rude, who responded with his patented silent-and-neutral-and-coincidentally-opinionless look. "Well, sugar, that's real noble and all, but like they say, 'Discretion is the better part of valor.'"

"Not true. That's for when you can run and fight another day, but we can't do that here. If we run we really can't ever come back, period."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Reno heaved a put-upon sigh. "All right, all right. So we stay. How d'you figure that we're going to stabilize Wutai's relationship with the outside world, get rid of the bike gangs, and avoid your father having us killed for screwing with your marriage?"

Yuffie shrugged. "What am I, a genius? I haven't thought that far ahead."

"That makes three of us."

A loud cough from Rude. "Who says I haven't thought ahead?"

Reno stared at him. "You're kiddin' me."

"If we're going head-to-head with bike gangs, we need bikes," Rude stated. His tone was almost reverential, as though he was divulging one of the great truths of the universe. "And not same lame piece of shit you pick up for fifteen hundred gil. Good bikes."

"'We' meaning…" Yuffie trailed off.

"Rude and me," Reno finished for her. "You can barely ride in a car, Yuffie, how d'you expect to be able to handle a bike?"

"But… well… yeah."

Reno clapped his hands together, satisfied. "So! Partner, old buddy. How do you suggest we acquire these awesome bikes?"

"Haven't thought that far ahead yet."

One of Reno's eyes twitched again. "Well, no big deal." He jerked a thumb at Makoto, who was across the parking lot and getting onto a sleek, powerful bike that was done up in blue and white colors. "He's got a nice ride, and we just have to figure out where he bought it."

"I remember something," Yuffie spoke up. "About a year ago, when Cloud first opened up Strife Delivery Services, he showed up one day in Wutai."

"Yuh-huh."

"He wasn't riding the Fenrir, though – he was riding that dinky motorcycle he stole out of the Shin-Ra building."

"Let me guess. He rode in on that and rode out on the Fenrir."

"Yeah."

"So whoever made the Fenrir has to be in Wutai."

"I'd guess so."

Reno nodded and thumped his right fist into his left palm. "Alrighty then, we have a plan of action. 'Till we can figure out what the hell we're going to do about Yuffie's wedding, partner, you and I are going to get us some rides. We'll drive back to Yuffie's place, drop her off, then find wherever the Shinsengumi've based themselves and get the location of the guy who made the Fenrir out of Makoto."

"And we can't just call Cloud up and ask?" Yuffie asked.

"I want to get this Makoto guy's measure. See what kinda personality he has. What better subject to approach him on than bikes?"

Squinting at the sun that was beginning to droop beneath the horizon, Rude looked to be considering something for a second, and then he opened up his umbrella. "Sounds like a plan."


Reno parked the car outside the alleyway that had blue-and-white Shinsengumi tags all over it. He could see that the alleyway led up to a large, two-story building that looked like it used to be an office. Now, however, it served as the Shinsengumi gang's base of operations.

"Partner," Reno said. "You going to drag that umbrella everywhere with you?"

Rude, who had closed and shouldered the umbrella, nodded. "There a problem?"

"It doesn't match your suit."

"It's a nice color."

The redheaded Turk gave an exaggerated shrug. "Fine! I'll just be 'that guy who's with the guy with the umbrella.' Terrific."

"Glad you like the idea."

They strolled nonchalantly up through the alleyway to the entrance to the building. Two bikers stood outside, armed with submachine pistols and broadswords slung across their backs. The broader, uglier one stepped forward when he saw the Turks. "Hold up, there. What business you got here?"

"We're here to see Makoto," Reno said. "We're friends of his prospective bride-to-be."

"The Boss hasn't mentioned nothing 'bout no prospective bride-to-be. He's just said he might be gettin' married."

Reno exchanged a glance with Rude. "We're friends of the girl he might end up marrying," he finally elected to say. "Do-you-understand-the-words-that-are-coming-out of-my-mouth?"

The biker gave Reno a sneer. "Yeah, I understand right perfectly. The Boss's got nothin' to say to you. Turn 'round and go back to where you came from."

"We can't do that," Reno told him. "You see, we need to do a little talking to the guy who's about to try to marry my girlfriend, in the interest of my girlfriend and the guy who's about to marry her. You follow?"

"What?"

"Thought so. We – my partner and I – need to procure rides of a two-wheeled sort, equipped with combustion engines in order to create high speeds, and the only way we can locate a man who produces them is to do the little talking to the guy who's about to marry my girlfriend. Still with me?"

"No!"

"Great. So if you'd just let us in, we can talk to the guy who's about to marry my girlfriend about locating the guy who produces the two-wheeled combustion-engine-equipped rides so we can help my girlfriend who may possibly be married to the aforementioned guy."

Reno almost felt sorry for the biker, but he wasn't quite that soft yet. The gang member had started counting points off on his fingertips in a desperate attempt to follow Reno. Meanwhile, the two Turks breezed past him, and Reno deposited a fifty-gil bill in the hand of the other guard, who grinned and started whistling nonchalantly.

They walked inside into what amounted to an open bar, with bikers scattered all around the first floor of the building, sitting at tables, drinking, talking, polishing weapons. Nobody bothered to look at the Turks as they entered; apparently outsiders weren't too uncommon here.

Reno strode up to the bar and thumped his hand on the wooden surface. "Bartender! My partner and I are here to see Makoto!"

The bartender, a young, scruffy man who looked a year or two older than Reno, jerked a thumb at the stairs. "He's up in the garage, working on his bike."

"A garage on the second floor?"

"We got slides we deploy when we want to move out. Gives us a speed boost."

"Sounds fun."

"Be nice when you go in. Makoto likes his quiet time with his bike."

Reno stifled a snort and tossed a one-gil coin to the bartender, who caught it out of the air and gave a small nod of thanks.

He and Rude tromped up the stairs to the upper level, where there was indeed a garage, filled to the brim with bikes. All of them bore the symbol of the Shinsengumi – the character for Makoto's name – and many of them were also done up in white and blue. Makoto himself was in a far corner of the garage, working on the bike that Reno and Rude had seen him ride away from the pagoda on.

When he heard the Turks enter, he looked up, snorted, then returned his attention to his bike.

"Hey there, hot stuff!" Reno called. "Long time no see!"

"What the hell do you want? I thought I told tonight's gate guards not to let you in."

"Well, one of them was a moron of epic proportions, and the other's going to go buy himself a pretty dress with the fifty gil I gave him. So, yeah."

"I reiterate: what the hell do you want?"

Let's mess with him a little. Reno oozed up to one of the bikes in the room and began to run his fingers along it. "This is a very nice little building you've got here, Makoto. Very smooth little operation. Would be a shame if anything were to happen to it."

Rude caught on instantly. "Damn shame," he affirmed. "We can help you with this."

Makoto looked up from his bike, his face pinched into a disapproving frown. "What are you talking about?"

"Accidents happen, you know," Reno observed idly. "Stuff like… well."

The sound of Rude kicking over a bucket of paint echoed loudly in the garage. "Whoops."

"My partner's so damn clumsy sometimes," the redhead sighed. "Apologies, apologies. Now, we could prevent these accidents, but such an operation requires a fee."

Makoto stood straight up, eyes blazing. "You're trying to get protection money out of me?"

"Call it an accident insurance policy."

"Screw you and get the hell out."

Reno laughed. "All right, all right. We were just screwing with you, actually. We're here for some information."

The Shinsengumi leader's eyes narrowed. "What sort of information?"

"Rude and I are in the market for bikes. Good bikes, not the stupid pieces of shit most wannabe bikers are driving around. Bikes like, well, yours. We hear that the guy who made the Fenrir bike for Cloud's in Wutai; maybe you know about him?"

Nodding, Makoto replied, "I get it. You're trying to do something about the bike gangs yourselves, are you?"

"Sort of. What've you got to say about it?"

A shrug. "Nothing much. Just that you shouldn't get in my way, when the time comes. And I'll tell you where to go for good bikes, that really are from the guy who made the Fenrir. That bike's a legend around here, you know." His eyes sparkled as he said the name, and though he still radiated an aura of potent dislike, it was curbed for the moment.

"Great," Reno exclaimed. "So, let's hear it!"

"Nuh-uh. I'm not an idiot. Why should I give you something for nothing when I can profit too?"

Reno crossed his arms over his chest and began to tap his foot. "All right, I'm listening."

A grin spread across Makoto's face. "Now we're getting somewhere.

"I want you to send Yuffie here, to talk… with me."