Jon Stewart… tubes… making me laugh too much. Wooooooooooooooookay. Chapter VI. (Can anyone explain to me why I've been getting motivated to write at 2:00 AM and not some more convenient time? Am I insane? Inspiration particles, thou sleetest through yon universe most precariously.)


Reno, Yuffie, and Rude left the car in a parking garage and traveled several blocks north. Ten minutes later they stood before the towering edifice that was Sub-General Maximilian Karsk's personal condominium. It was three stories high, built in the old Wutainese style, sporting multiple flaring eaves and several parapets.

"So Karsk and a bunch of his old army buddies live here?" Reno asked.

"That's what the book said," Yuffie replied, referencing a public housing records book that they'd scoured for Karsk's location. "We ready?"

"Just a sec. Partner, you got a persuasive backup plan ready in case the shit hits the fan?"

Rude raised the umbrella and tapped its tip. Reno and Yuffie squinted and then saw the small, flattened cylinder resting against the tip, almost invisible next to the similarly colored fake wood.

"It'll take me a quarter second to trigger and it'll blow anything within ten meters to hell," Rude replied. "I can also make it flash red."

"Ooh, do it now," Yuffie said with a grin.

Raising an eyebrow but making no comment, Rude's left hand – which was conveniently in his pocket – gave a small twitch, and the tip of the umbrella flashed a red diode at them for a moment. Yuffie gave a short giggle of appreciation before shaking her head and reassuming a serious expression. "Alrighty, let's go."

The three of them nonchalantly walked up to the entrance of the compound. Reno looked around for a moment, then located the doorbell. He gave it a press and the sound of chimes came from within the building. "Neat," he observed.

Within seconds, the door in front of them opened to reveal a large, burly man whose rigid posture and footing screamed ex-elite battalion member to Reno. "Yes?"

"Hiya," Yuffie chirped. "I'm Yuffie Kisaragi, and these are my bodyguards, Reno and Rude. I'd like to talk to Sub-General Karsk."

The man looked at Reno and Rude. "Bodyguards? Red here doesn't look the part."

"This was supposed to be my vacation," Reno drawled. "I don't dress in a tee-shirt and jeans for the fun of it, you know. It's vacation wear, and I didn't bring a suit."

With a shrug that seemed to resonate through the twin mountains that were his shoulders, the ex-solider replied, "Tell me about it. I never got used to being out of uniform, either. Anyway, Sarge did mention you, Ms. Kisaragi, so I figure you all can go on in."

"I thought Sub-General was the rank that Karsk held," Rude interrupted.

"Well, technically none of us hold ranks anymore. Everyone who wasn't in the battalion just calls Sarge 'Sub-General' because that's what they know him as, and we call him Sarge because that's what he was to us. We could call him Supreme Warlord of the Entire Goddamned World and it'd be same difference."

He motioned for them to follow, and he turned about with military precision and began to walk – no, march – down the hallway that the door opened up onto.

It was a march because the man covered precisely a meter with every stride. It was a mechanical motion, one that spoke of years' worth of discipline, and Reno was again struck by the thought that just maybe the old army members hadn't shucked all of their previous habits.

The ex-soldier led them down the hallway, past several adjoining rooms, up two flights of stairs, down another hallway through what was obviously the living quarters of the building, and finally gestured to the room that the hallway dead-ended at. "Sarge's inside. We'll be nearby."

Reno nodded and motioned for Yuffie to head in first. He sought their guide's eyes, held them for a moment, and then nodded once again, more slowly. The man returned the gesture, an indication of mutual understanding, before shouldering past them and disappearing into one of the rooms. We don't screw with your boss, you don't screw with us. Everything's cool.

Yuffie slid open the door to Karsk's room, vaguely expecting something Spartan and military. What greeted her and the two Turks was a tastefully arranged room, very neat, very precise. The floor mat was off in a corner by one of the many windows that lined the walls. Up against the opposite wall was a large panel with multiple screens and a console, beneath which rested a chair. Security system, Reno noted. In the center of the room was a small table with tea set out on it and three floor cushions placed concentrically around its west side, while one floor cushion was on its east side, occupied by Karsk, who looked imposing and grave. He had on a neutral grey, long-sleeved shirt and a black hakama. Behind him was a stretch of wall between two windows looking out on the city. On the wall was hung a black kamishimo outfit with the diagonal red slash that Reno had noted on the man's quasi-uniform the first time he'd seen him. At the base was what Reno assumed to be a sword more along the lines of what Sephiroth had used than the broadswords he saw most bikers carrying, though the blade length, however impressive, was nowhere near as long as what the silver-haired madman had wielded. It was placed on a ceremonial stand and sheathed entirely in a shirasaya scabbard, made of wood to protect the blade.

Karsk had obviously known they were coming, no doubt from the security apparatus on the left side of the room. He briefly scanned all three of them, briefly catching Reno's gaze and tracing it to the sword behind him.

"That," Karsk said without being asked, "is the tachi that Lord Godo presented to me when I was made a citizen of Wutai. You rarely see swords of this particular make here in Wutai, as most would-be swordsmen prefer the liuye dao or perhaps the niuweidao."

"Looks like the sword Sephiroth used," Reno observed casually. "Any relation?"

"The Masamune that General Sephiroth used was a variant of the ōdachi, a very long sword that was often forged for symbolic or ritual purposes, as the blade length was oftentimes too great to be wielded by a man – or at least any man not possessed of the General's powers. The tachi was a cavalry weapon, as its length assisted in the dispatching of enemy footsoldiers from atop a horse, but it could also be a personal weapon if the wielder was skilled."

Reno automatically catalogued the fact that Karsk referred to Sephiroth with a rank. He let Yuffie take up the thread of conversation from there.

"You have an interest in swords?" she asked, taking Reno's cue.

"A trifling one, but nothing to concern yourselves with unless you share my tastes on the subject. Please, do sit down."

They took his invitation and seated themselves on the cushions while Karsk poured them tea. At least he's polite, Reno thought. A damn sight better than Makoto, that's for sure.

"So, Lady Kisaragi," Karsk addressed her after he'd finished pouring the tea and set the pot back down. "What might the purpose of your visit to my compound be?"

"We have a… question for you," Yuffie replied. "One that I think we'd better discuss in private."

One of Karsk's eyebrows inclined the tiniest fraction of a degree. He motioned to Rude, and the Turk nodded and slid the door shut behind him.

"What is your question, then?"

Yuffie coughed nervously to clear her throat and then plunged in. "You see, we were just at the Wutainese Office of Records, doing some research. We came across your entry in the list of citizenships held, and… well… it says that you're gay."

Contrary to what Reno had been expecting – perhaps a chortle and an amused, but negative, response – Karsk inclined his head. "Yes, I am. What would your question be, Lady Kisaragi?"

That threw Yuffie for a loop. She looked over her shoulder at Reno, who was studying the tea in his cup, immersed in his own thoughts, and at Rude, who was unreadable through his sunglasses. Finally she looked back at Karsk, cleared her throat again, and plowed onwards. "Well, that is to say, why d'you want to marry me if you're gay?"

"A valid inquiry." Karsk took a sip of tea before continuing. "I'm sure you've heard that your other suitor, Makoto, is intent on marrying you for political power, despite what he himself might say. In essence, Lady Kisaragi, it is no different with me."

"Well, that's straightforward."

"A quality I find most refreshing when encountered," the aged Sub-General observed. "Allow me to further explicate. It is not in my nature to remain still. I wish to be on the move, doing things, and I always have strived to. For quite a while now I have remained still, not only in the sense that I have remained in Wutai, but that my status has not changed. I aspire to be part of the government of this city, Lady Kisaragi, because I have come to consider it my home and I wish to lend my expertise to it. However, despite the positive view of me that most citizens entertain for my defection from the Shin-Ra, they would not see me holding any sort of political power. Once a foreigner, always a foreigner, unfortunately. By marrying you, I will be able to introduce myself into Wutainese politics and prove my competence to the public." Karsk took another sip of tea. "I was actually intending to invite you here tomorrow for this chat, Lady Kisaragi, to reveal my sexual preferences to you. As I am gay, I would not ask anything sexual of you. It would be a marriage in name only – you would certainly come to live with me so that I might support you, but you would retain your own independent life. Since I would not be a sexual partner, I would have no aversion to your maintaining your relationship with Mr. Reno here, as long as it would be discreet. I would not even require the formality of our sharing a bed."

"An' what about you?" Reno asked. His expression betrayed nothing and his tone was even. "You got any partners, Sub-General Karsk?"

Karsk shook his head negatively. "No. I am fifty-nine years old, after all. I could not ask services of any of my men – they are too dear to me on a different level to contemplate having any of them as a partner, though many of them would not be disinclined. The one man I had any real interest in ceased to exist a long time ago, insofar as reports here could tell me."

"Who?" Yuffie asked automatically, leaning forward a bit. A moment later she frowned, leaned back, and bowed her head slightly. "Sorry. That is, if it's all right with you."

"It is no secret. I greatly admired General Sephiroth."

Reno swallowed his tea and felt it fill his insides with a glowing warmth different from that of alcohol. "How'd he take it?"

Karsk shrugged. "We had a professional relationship, Mr. Reno. While I do not deny that I was attracted deeply to the General, we had a job to do. I respected him as a military leader – a genius – and he considered me his loyal right-hand man. Regardless of all the talk of brotherly love that circulated in the army, actual homosexuality was almost nonexistent, so he was the only person I informed of my sexual orientation. General Sephiroth, of course, never held that against me – he never shunned my advice nor failed to accept my support. I understood that he would never attempt a relationship with me, and I never held that against him. In a different world, perhaps it could have worked, but we had a war to win."

"It sounds like you two were pretty good buddies," Yuffie observed. "Why'd he ditch you here to command the garrison?"

That provoked a reaction from Karsk. His brows drew together and his mouth flattered into a thin line, a frown that cast a multitude of wrinkles into harsh relief across his aged yet still charismatic face. "It was not the General's idea that I be left here," he finally replied. "Certain… superiors came across reports of my homosexuality. The source of these reports, as far as I was able to determine, was from a disgruntled private whom I had punished for failing to uphold military discipline properly. It was pure chance that this charge he levied against me was in fact true. When the superiors in question asked me if the private's claims were true, I did my duty and responded truthfully. They assured me it would not change anything – and then stranded me here."

Karsk's mouth twisted into an even harsher line. "General Sephiroth did what he could, but said superiors did not want me any more. I was stationed here on permanent assignment, and here I am today."

"Said superiors being… President Shin-Ra, maybe?" Reno asked.

The old Sub-General nodded. "I never did like him. I always thought his son, Rufus, was much brighter. How is Rufus, Mr. Reno? Or is it not true that you work for him?"

"Nope, my partner and I work for 'im, though I'm not about to advertise that in this city. He's doing just fine – recovered from Geostigma a while back along with everyone else."

Karsk nodded slowly. "Excellent. I do thank the both of you, and you, Lady Kisaragi, for indulging me. It has been some time since I spoke of my abandonment, and it is always good to unburden myself of the subject occasionally."

"It was… no problem," Yuffie managed. "I'm glad we all get one another. Thanks for the tea."

"You're welcome, Lady Kisaragi. David will show you out."


The compound belonging to Grandpa Souta was thrumming with noise as he and his team commenced work on Reno's and Rude's motorcycles. Rei, who had a room upstairs, was just beginning to fall asleep – she worked night shifts, after all – when she heard someone pounding on the door downstairs.

With a small sigh, she rose from her floor mat, pulled a robe around herself, and padded down the stairs. The pounding continued unabated and she yelled, "I'm COMING! Don't break down the door or anything!"

Finally making it downstairs, Rei rushed to the door and opened it just in time for Makoto to retch up blood all over her favorite bunny slippers.

"Makoto! What the hell happened?"

The young man staggered inside, then jerkily straightened up and looked at Rei. Her eyes widened when she saw what a horrible condition she was in.

"I got into a couple fights 's all. Dun havta get so mad."

He's drunk.

"Grandpa Souta!" Rei shouted. "We need your help!"

"We?" the old mechanic shouted from his workshop. "Makoto?"

"Yes!"

Rei heard footsteps against the wooden floor and Grandpa Souta emerged into the hall a moment later. He took one look at Makoto and shook his head. "You're in terrible shape."

What looked like a sneer plastered itself on Makoto's face, but slipped off when he winced from the pain it caused him. "Shaddup, old man. I'm jus' fine. You don't gotta be worryin' 'bout me…"

"You threw up blood all over my feet!" Rei replied. "We're bandaging you up and putting you to bed."

"But nuthin'! I gotta get back to my gang!"

Makoto turned and began to drag himself back towards the door when Grandpa Souta's hand came out of nowhere, forefinger and middle finger extended, and jabbed him right in a vital ki point. The biker gang leader collapsed, unconscious.

"Will he be all right?" Rei asked worriedly, hurrying to pick him up off of the floor.

Shrugging, Grandpa Souta pulled Makoto up and shouldered one of his arms, motioning for Rei to take the other one. "He'll be fine. I've never seen him this beaten up, but his aura isn't diminished. He'll live."

Rei shook her head sadly as the two of them began to head up the stairs, Makoto dangling limply between them. "You're a harsh man, Grandpa. He's trained himself for years in the old arts, struggling all the while, and here you are having mastered them and never raising a finger to help."

"I'm not passing on Shiranui-ryū to the next generation. I've told you that before, Rei-chan."

"I know, I know. Makoto would never forgive you if he learned that your refusal to help train the armed forces was a key factor in the Shin-Ra victory, after all."

"The philosophy of Furanui Kenjutsu is adaptation and growth. If Wutai succeeded in winning against the Shin-Ra, they could not force us to change and break the stagnation that had been gripping our empire."

"I know, Grandpa. You've told me this many times." Hesitating for a moment, Rei steeled herself and plowed onwards. "But then is it really all right for Makoto to be using Shiranui-ryū? That doesn't bother you?"

She resisted the urge to suck in air through her teeth in alarm when she saw the skin around Grandpa Souta's eyes tighten. Bracing herself for a rebuke, she was relieved when he replied, "No, it doesn't. What he commands is Shiranui-ryū, but not the principles of it. He uses it as a mere blunt instrument to enforce his will when it should be used dispassionately against evil. That is why he will never be able to use the full power of the style."

Rei shrugged as best she could with Makoto's arm on her shoulders. "You know my feelings on that. If he knows the moves, he knows the style, principles be damned. He can still kill someone with it."

The old mechanic sighed. "You really are well-suited to be a geisha, Rei-chan. You have about as much insight as a tadpole."

"Excuse me?"

"The explosive power of one attacking is different than the stolid power of one defending. So it is with a man merely attempting to better his position in life and a man attempting to do away with evil for the greater good."

Scowling, Rei opened the door to her room and helped Grandpa Souta lay Makoto out on her floor mat. I'll have to use Grandpa Souta's bed now. Great.

"Wait outside," he instructed her. "I'll see to his wounds – unless you'd like to help me undress him?"

Rei replied by way of sliding the door shut behind her. She hadn't missed the rising humor in Grandpa Souta's voice as he'd asked that particular question. No matter how I feel about him, I'd never take advantage of Makoto like that.

Ten minutes came and went without incident, and Grandpa Souta stepped out of Rei's room and closed the door behind him. "He has several fractures, but nothing that can't be stabilized with a wrap, which I've done. Aside from that, he'll just need a little time to recover and perhaps a Cure spell to speed the healing process. I'd let him sleep for now."

Bowing slightly at the waist, Rei made way for Grandpa Souta to descend the stairs. "Thank you."

"Foolish boy," the old mechanic muttered. "No doubt this was over Lady Kisaragi. I'd tell you to be more promiscuous around him, but his head's so high in the clouds that nothing except a phoenix will draw his attention. If you're going to rest, use my bed."

Rei stifled a snort at that and waited for Grandpa Souta to descend the stairs and disappear back into his workshop. She could hear him starting to shout at the crew about something involving hydraulics.

Quietly, Rei slid open the door to her room and knelt next to Makoto's prone form. He was stretched out on her floor mat, bandages covering most of his torso and arms. Fortunately, Grandpa Souta had known that Rei would want to observe him for a moment, so he'd re-dressed Makoto after he'd been bandaged. Rei and Makoto had certainly taken baths together in their youth, but modesty still had to be preserved.

A moment later, Rei noticed a spider slowly crawling along the floor towards the side of Makoto's head. She reached over him and flicked the thing away, but as she pulled back Makoto grabbed her by the wrist.

Rei started and tried to pull away, but Makoto didn't relinquish his grip on her wrist. He stared up at her, his eyes wild and blinking rapidly. She tried to withdraw again, then froze when she felt his other hand slowly running down her cheek.

Silently, she looked upon that face she knew so well, unconsciously holding her breath. Rei gazed into his brown eyes, and hesitantly, almost reticently, traced the fingers of her free hand along his jaw.

His response was to pull her to him and ravenously cover her mouth with his own. The world dropped out from under Rei and she stopped thinking, the only thing crossing through her mind being that she could not possibly press her body against his writhing form any harder, but that she had to, that it was the thing that she wanted the most in the entire world.

Rei began, instinctively, to slide her free hand around his shoulder and down his spine when he broke off abruptly and jerked out of her embrace, skittering backwards several feet on his elbows like a frightened animal.

He rasped, "Rei! What happened?"

Blinking with surprise, Rei replied, "You… weren't you conscious? You looked that way."

"No, I was!" Makoto gasped, his voice rattling. "I just… tell me, Rei! Tell me where Yuffie went!"

The sentence struck Rei like a blow. She reeled backwards from her half-crouch into a haphazard sitting position, hands splayed flat on the floor behind her. She licked her lips; she could still taste him, she could still feel his hand on her cheek and his jaw beneath her fingers, she could still feel him pressing up against her with reckless, passionate abandon that was so unlike the Makoto she knew.

"Yuffie had to leave," Rei responded hoarsely. "Go back to sleep, Makoto."

A look of intense weariness came over the young man, and he nodded, pulling himself across the room to the floor mat. "You're a good friend, Rei," he croaked, swallowing a second afterwards to try to clear his voice. "Thanks for everything."

He pulled her into a brief embrace, then flopped down on the floor mat and closed his eyes.