What is the sound of one hand clapping?

Fwish, fwish.

Chapter X!


Reno, Yuffie, and Rude waited outside beneath the awning of Grandpa Souta's compound for Makoto and Rei to get ready. As both of them had literally just gotten out of bed when the Orochimaru attacked, they had obviously not been dressed to go out to dinner and then go dancing or drinking. The rain continued to pour down, invisible until it hit you in the inky post-dusk blackness of the night.

"And you're really, really positive that we couldn't be doing something productive instead of going out?" Reno asked Yuffie.

"Since when have you objected to going out?" Yuffie asked teasingly.

"Well, there was that one restaurant in Costa Del Sol…"

"You just didn't want to go into it because you know the girl running it – very well, as a matter of fact."

"It was from years ago, before you and I knew one another. Besides, she was cute."

"She was also real happy to see you, I remember that much. So much so that she actually tried to strangle me when she saw that I was your girlfriend."

Reno grinned broadly and stretched. "I can't help it if she found me irresistible."

With a mock scowl, Yuffie flicked Reno's forehead and he mimed jerking back as though taking a bullet to the head. "Keep it up and you'll end up falling in love with your own reflection."

Several feet away, by the front door, Rude was tapping out a message on his cell with one hand, his umbrella in the other. Reno noticed the cell when he recovered from the so-called headshot and asked, "What's up, partner?"

"Sending a message."

"To who?"

"Rufus. Telling him that Shin-Ra should adopt the manufacturers of my umbrella for all employees' umbrella needs."

"An' why would Rufus care about something like that?"

"I was in contact with them earlier and they agreed to hire me as a spokesman when we get back to Edge. They have a branch there and they want a suit to point the cameras at."

Reno raised an eyebrow. "I thought it wasn't allowed for us to take on secondary jobs while we're Turks, Rude."

"Funny, because I thought it wasn't allowed for you to wear goggles or leave your suit unbuttoned."

"Technicalities! Those aren't even on the same level! And Elena wears heels, even on assignments!"

"I also thought it wasn't allowed for us to make payments in the boss's name, especially for bikes that'll probably be so expensive you can retire on the cash used to buy them."

"But there's a clause in our contracts saying we can make forced requisitions of the items or property of others when necessary."

"Everything in our contracts pertains to when we're on duty. We're on leave."

Reno opened his mouth and then clicked it shut, then opened it again and said, "We're still on duty, though, technically. This is a paid vacation, after all."

"No, it's leave, meaning no paycheck for it. Paid vacation is reserved for the active leader of the Turks – namely, Tseng."

For a moment Rude looked as though he was going to say something more, but then he saw Yuffie staring at him openmouthed and shut up.

"What is it, Yuffie?" Reno asked.

"Rude's talking more in one streak than I've ever heard in my life."

"And precisely how long have you been traveling with Rude?"

That caught her off guard, much to Reno's rather perverse satisfaction. The ninja-girl started to speak, cut herself off, stared at an indeterminate point past Reno's head for a moment in thought, and then crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her tongue out at him.

Suppressing a smile, Reno set his face into a calculated display of pompous superiority and harrumphed. "I say, partner! It appears that the pink ninja-tongue has revealed itself, poking out of its abode for a moment to scent the air!"

Yuffie sucked her tongue back in faster than Reno could laugh at his own brilliance – and that didn't take much time. "It might be feral. Better be careful, sugar."

Crackling his knuckles, Reno strode up to her and said, "No worries, ma'am. I'm trained in the subtle art of ninja-tongue capture."

Right on cue, Yuffie stuck her tongue out again and Reno struck, grabbing it between his thumb and forefinger. She squealed and tried to pull her tongue back into her mouth, but Reno shook his head and her and tsked. "What ho! It seems that I've captured it! A magnificent specimen, wouldn't you agree, partner?"

Rude looked from Reno to Yuffie and then back. "Let's kill it."

That made Reno laugh, which in turn made him let go of Yuffie's tongue, which in turn sent her tumbling backwards when her tenacious efforts to retrieve her tongue were suddenly rendered void and all the energy put into freeing it was now put into making her fall on her rump.

"Reno?" Her voice was sweet and innocent.

"Yes, m'lady?" Reno asked, struggling to contain the laughter that threatened him.

"The. Ground. Is. WET!"

That killed him. Reno doubled over laughing, which prompted Yuffie to firmly plant a foot in his stomach and send him falling over backwards. Rude watched his partner haul himself into a sitting position, soaking all down his back, and jump on top of Yuffie with a half-shout, half-laugh and start rolling around on the wet concrete with her.

He shifted slightly as they rolled in front of the door, nearly bumping into his ankle, and Makoto and Rei chose that moment to slide open the door and try to step outside.

Fortunately, Makoto was a tad faster than Rei, so he threw his arm out in front of her to stop her from stepping on Reno, being thrown, and falling face-first in the water outside. That meant that she ran into what was essentially a length of taut steel cable, rebounded, and started to fall backwards before Makoto threw himself backwards and caught her.

Reno and Yuffie stopped their tussle when they realized what had happened and hurriedly got to their feet. Both of them were soaking.

Rude made eye contact with Makoto, jerked his head at the man's motorcycle, and tossed him the umbrella. "You'll need it, and need it returned." He turned to Reno and Yuffie. "I'm driving. Both of you sit in the back."


Karsk ignored the rain washing over his body and focused on his opponent. Arcturus was – had been – the heavy-weapons specialist of the unit, and years of hefting heavy assault rifles and explosives had given him a powerful, if not particularly magnificent, physique. He was big, and rather paunchy around the middle from too many years of eating good Wutainese cuisine, but for every half-kilogram of fat there were three kilos of muscle, and he weighed a solid one hundred and twelve kilograms.

The Sub-General himself had been an unarmed combat trainer in his spare time. He had fifty-nine years under his belt, true, but he kept himself every bit as hard as he'd been when he was thirty years younger – though his muscles protested every repetition beneath the weights more and more these days. Oftentimes Karsk would tell himself that he was simply getting old, and that he was never going to be as on top of his game as he'd been in his twenties… or his thirties…

That was before the silver-haired young man, though.

Arcturus nodded to Karsk and charged, feet grinding into the mud of the condominium's small backyard. They could have practiced indoors, true, but Karsk liked the feeling of washing mud off of himself after a long brawl, whether it be for real or training. It reminded him, somewhat eschatologically, of self-purification. Sink ye into the mud, burdened by your sins, and I shalt free you. His parents had been the last of a long line of worshippers of some deity called Neyov – the religion apparently stretched back a very long time, and had gone through rough days back when the world was young.

If it had ever been young.

Karsk faded back from Arcturus' initial punch, letting the clenched fist taste the wet air and the raindrops that would have hit Karsk on the bridge of his nose. He pulled himself into a crouch and sprang forward, scoring a one-two on Arcturus' not-quite-rock-solid abdominals before passing him by. The big man didn't give any indication of having noticed the blows, instead pulling about to his left to bring his hand around for a momentous backhanded slap that almost took Karsk completely by surprise. Fortunately, the Sub-General knew that crushing slaps were a favorite move of Arcturus' and anticipated it, pulling up his right elbow and grinding it into the palm of the incoming hand.

I have a dispatch from the General.

The follow-up blow from Arcturus went wide and earned him a kick to his forehead – not a proper kick, of course, but one delivered with the top of the foot, the closest thing to a slap that could be given with the legs and feet. They weren't fighting to kill one another, after all.

He remembered vividly how fast the young man had taken him down. He hadn't even bothered pulling his odd, double-bladed katana – Karsk had taken four blows to the chest in two seconds and hit the dirt, clutching at his ribs. The pain had been glorious; it let him know he was still alive, even though he'd seen his opponent – Kadaj, that was the name – bust through a brick wall to allow himself access to the backyard of Karsk's condominium.

"Good match, Sarge," Arcturus grunted. "Three clean hits on me, one block. Want to go another round?"

Karsk shook his head. "Thank you, Arcturus, but no. I feel…"

The General has a mission for you, Kadaj had said.

"…like eating out. Is the Scarlet Monastery still open?"


Reno, no longer dripping but still a bit damp, seated himself next to Yuffie and took another look around. The restaurant – the Scarlet Monastery – was done up in extravagant scarlet hues with black ornamentation, and rested at the base of the immense Da Chao statue carved into the very living rock of the Wutainese cliffside.

Naturally, it was expensive as hell.

Across from Reno and Yuffie, Makoto and Rei took their seats. The waitress that had shown them to their table handed them menus and said, "Our special for tonight is basted bull testicles on a spicy noodle base."

"Great as it sounds, I think I'll pass," Reno replied with a weak smile. "If I feel like eating a bull's balls, you'll be the first to know."

The waitress favored him with an acid smile and informed them that another waitress by the name of Ziyi would see to their needs shortly, then turned and walked away. Reno could hear her mutter foreigner under her breath as she did so.

"Love you too, sweetheart," he called before beginning to peruse the menu. "So, Makoto, those balls any good?"

Yuffie suppressed a snort and Rei covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve for a moment, her eyes betraying her smile. Makoto stared levelly at Reno before replying, "Bull testicles are not a favorite dish of mine. I prefer plain soba with pork."

"How d'you handle them, though? I mean, they're probably enormous."

This time Yuffie had to bury her face in her napkin and breathe in short gasps, shoulders shaking with the effort not to laugh, and Rei, who had taken a sip of water, started coughing into her sleeve.

"Chopsticks."

"There's an idea. Say, maybe you could help me with my grip…"

Yuffie started hyperventilating, she was trying so hard not to laugh.


Rude, as befit the role of uninvolved chaperone-driver – to say nothing of the fact that he wasn't hungry – was leaning on the side of the car, umbrella keeping him dry, when he saw another car pull up into the space next to him.

The Turk paid it no particular attention until Sub-General Karsk folded himself and his slate-grey umbrella out of it and saw him. "Oh, Mr. Rude. Fancy meeting you here."

Peering at Karsk through the rain, Rude could see that the aged Sub-General was wearing the quasi-military fatigues that he'd been in when first introduced by Godo. He was apparently alone, as nobody else got out of the car.

"Going to have dinner there?" Rude asked.

"I was, but if my guess is correct, Lady Kisaragi and your partner are inside. I don't want to disturb their evening." Checking his watch, Karsk went on, "I know a pub nearby, within walking distance, that opens only at night – it should be open by now. They serve good saké and sushi. Care to join me?"

Rude checked his own watch and estimated that Reno, Yuffie, Makoto and Rei would be eating for an hour at the least, if not more. His partner could always call his cell if he needed him, anyway.

"Sounds like a plan. You buying?"

Karsk snorted. "Of course. I don't invite people to go drinking with me and expect them to pay."

"Lead the way, then."


Reno dug eagerly into the meal on his plate. It was a huge assortment of spicy noodles, peppers, greens, and the occasional peanut. Its name was also unpronounceable by the human tongue, or so he claimed.

Yuffie was digging into a simpler meal – roast duck and rice – while Makoto was eating, just as he'd said, plain soba and pork. Rei was eating what passed for a salad, along with noodles that were fried into long, crispy strands.

Much to Yuffie's surprise, to say nothing of her relief, Reno demonstrated admirable skill with his chopsticks, which was good due to the fact that the restaurant no longer offered forks. More isolationist bullshit, Reno thought. If you can't bar the foreigners entry, make 'em use utensils they got no experience with.

"Everything to your satisfaction?"

Reno swallowed hot noodles and peppers and replied, "Yeah, thanks, Ziyi. Great stuff."

The waitress, a petite black-haired thing of five and a half feet, smiled and observed, "You're very deft with chopsticks for a foreigner, sir."

"Long story. Can I get another glass of wine?"

The girl nodded and faded back into the restaurant. Immediately Yuffie commented, "At this rate, soon enough we won't even have 'foreign' wines in restaurants. It's just stupid."

"She raised an interesting point, though," Rei said pleasantly, obviously trying to deflect the subject towards something more pleasant. "How is it that you've experience with chopsticks, Reno?"

"Killed a man with a pair of them once," Reno replied around a mouthful of noodles. "Like I said, long story."

Rei smiled shakily and did not pursue the subject.

"Where're we going after we finish here?" Yuffie asked. "Any ideas, Makoto?"

"There's a pub by the name of the Drunken Fisher King a short distance from here. We can get a few drinks – real drinks – and decide what to do from there."

"Perfect," Reno affirmed. "I'll outdrink your ass any day of the week, buddy!"

Makoto shook his head condescendingly at Reno and gave him a serpent's smile. "I do beg to differ."


Rude knocked back another cup of saké and gave an approving hmm. "Good choice, Karsk."

Karsk, who looked only slightly inebriated at this point, popped some fish eggs into his mouth and chewed appreciatively. "The saltiness of the eggs is in marked contrast to the harshness of the saké – beautiful." He raised his cup of saké and Rude lifted the one he'd just poured for himself.

"A saké barrel, born without hands, makes merry – cherry blossom time," Karsk quoted.

"Hear, hear," Rude said. They tipped the saké glasses against one another and then drank.

Karsk looked at his watch. "We've been drinking for about an hour… time to move on, I think."

Raising an eyebrow, Rude asked, "Why?"

"I don't like staying in one place for very long – I told you that. Part of having been a soldier." Karsk heaved himself to his feet, ate a few more fish eggs, and motioned for Rude to follow him. "They serve a good beef hot-pot down at the Kanbe-ya."

"An inn?"

"Yes, but they know me there. Good place to rent a room if you want to get away from it all for a night, too."

Rude nodded. "I figure Reno and Yuffie will want her house to themselves tonight. Sounds good to me – but I'll pay for the room."

Now it was Karsk's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You don't mind sharing a room?"

"No."

Something in Karsk's expression crumbled slightly, and he abruptly looked very old and tired. "If only there were more people in the world like you, Mr. Rude." He stared at his feet for a moment, then shook his head and sucked in a deep breath. "Let's head out, no?"


Reno, Yuffie, Makoto, and Rei arrived at the Drunken Fisher King shortly after concluding their meal at the Scarlet Monastery. All of them were feeling fairly full, but they still ordered some sushi to go with their saké.

Pulling down a cup of saké, Reno gave a short whoop and poured himself some more. "Damn good stuff. Wish we had it back in Edge."

"Wutai stopped exporting rice wines to foreign cities shortly after Yuffie left," Makoto replied, looking and sounding more mellow now that he had alcohol in him. "I'm afraid that things are only going to get worse, not better."

Reno eyed the biker leader skeptically. "You nearly go to town on my ass for being a foreigner last night, and now you're booing isolationism? You're a piece of work."

Taking a deep breath – and another shot of saké – Makoto replied, "Look. If this marriage thing continues, we're eventually going to end up on opposite sides. For now, though, let me say that I'm sorry for what happened. Tensions have been high in the city, and regardless of how I might want to stay above the baser trends going through the population I can't avoid them completely – especially after my parents were killed by your company's army in the war. I'll always have a stigma towards foreigners, but that's no excuse for how I acted – especially not in the alleyway."

Yuffie and Rei kept silent while Reno leaned back in his seat, looking very much the part of man who had been put in an important position and was relishing it. He shifted in his seat and said, "I figure we'll end up on opposite sides, true – but that doesn't mean we can't respect one another. You're a better guy than I am to apologize like that, and I can't turn it down. Both of us have got old prejudices."

Slowly, Reno and Makoto leaned forward and shook hands.

"Yuffie's still mine," Reno added with a grin that Makoto returned, contentiously.

"I have an idea," Yuffie chirped, looking ecstatic that her plan had actually worked. "Drink for me. The guy whose head doesn't hit the table first gets a kiss."

The redheaded Turk and the black-haired biker looked at one another, then at Yuffie, then back at one another.

"You're on," Makoto laughed.


Rude repositioned himself on the floor mat, trying to get comfortable in the bedrobe the Kanbe-ya had provided. Karsk looked to be asleep on the mat across the room, but Rude could hear the man's slightly irregular breathing and knew that he was awake.

"Rude? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah."

The Turk heard a swallowing sound, and then Karsk asked, "Have you at any point known any young, silver-haired men?"

Rude blinked. He felt naked without his sunglasses, though they rested next to the mat with his umbrella. "Counting Sephiroth or not?"

"Not."

"Yeah, I knew some. Three of 'em. Kadaj, Yazoo, and Loz."

"What were Yazoo and Loz like?"

"Why, did you meet Kadaj?"

"Yes. When he came to Wutai to kidnap the children with Geostigma, I fought with him. He took me down as easily as you would swat a fly… and he mentioned that he had two brothers."

"Didn't really know them. I fought 'em, though," Rude remembered. "Reno took on Yazoo, and I took on Loz. The guy was stronger and hit harder than anyone I'd ever fought." Remembering further, Rude added, "He was kinda like a child."

"The General's children," Karsk murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing. Goodnight, Rude."

"'Night."