~9 years later~
I groan and contemplate jamming a fork into the toaster to get it over with already. Annoyed, I ignore my grumbling stomach and leave my breakfast to char in favor of getting ready for work. I yank my pants on, nearly ripping a hole in the side when I shimmy a little too hard, and when I throw my jacket on, I grimace at the smell.
Quickly, I drench myself in a shower of perfume in hopes of drowning out the scent and rush toward my door. Hope the smoke alarm doesn't go off again… To avoid all responsibility, I slam the front door shut (if I don't, it'll jam halfway open) and turn the key in the lock. When I shove my hand in my pocket to tuck my keys away, my phone vibrates against my fingers. Huffing, I hurry down the stairs, pressing it to my ear impatiently.
"What's up?" Even in my morning rush, I can't help but grin.
"Hey! Not at work yet?"
"Reno, you know I work the second morning shift."
"When's that?"
"Nine, like every other morning the past five months," I huff, rolling my eyes. A passing woman frowns, uncertain if the gesture was meant for her. "Did you need something? I'm kinda busy."
"Yeah, I need a ride at, like, six."
"Sure." My truck dings when I jerk the rusty door open, and the undercarriage creaks in protest when I sit down. "Hey, I heard that pizza place has a sale today." Please take the bait.
"Well shit, let's do it!" I hear the creak of his desk chair as he leans back, probably to put his feet up on his desk like an imbecile. "Love that place!"
"Yeah, I know." The engine of my truck sputters and I try again, kicking at the floor. "C'mon…"
"That didn't sound good."
"Yeah, thanks," I scoff.
"Actually, can you pick me up at—"
"Bye."
I roll my eyes fondly and set my phone aside, finally getting the vehicle to turn on and strapping in. I glance up at myself in the rearview mirror and shake my head. Don't look at me like that. If I didn't hang up, he'd never shut up. That's Reno, I guess. Easy going, lazy as all hell, but dear Shiva does he take his job seriously. I sigh, pulling onto the busy Midgar roads. Finally get to the upper plate, and what do I get? I serve into the right lane to give the guy that cut me off the finger. A bunch of assholes and a shitty life.
Still, if I hadn't messed everything up, I'd be right where Reno is right now: doing Shinra's dirty work. I guess that's what grown-ups have to do, though. As much as I miss stealing pickles and pissing shopkeepers off, it had to end. Somehow, homeless adults are sadder than homeless kids.
"You ready?"
Kelsey, our other reporter, is almost ready to turn it over to me. I nod, ignoring the cameraman's voice as he barks more orders in my ear, squaring my shoulders and shaking my hair out of my eyes. Behind me, the flames of the burning reactor's remains heat my back. A chilling column of black smoke rises high above the city.
"We're here live at the ruins of the Sector One reactor," I announce, holding my microphone close to my lips and trying to keep my voice steady as I raise it above the angry wind. "Just a few hours ago, a bomb set off within the reactor's core and destroyed the sector's source of electricity. Shinra is still searching for alternative methods of returning power."
"Help—" the producer hisses. I resist the urge to roll my eyes before the entirety of Midgar.
"If you have any information about who may have done this or what inspired this—"
"I saw 'em!" A sweaty man jerks my hand toward his mouth, spitting into the microphone. Startled, I watch my crew for any sign of what to do. "It was a big guy with a gun for an arm and a dude with a big sword! There were others too! I—"
"Thank you," I grit out, pulling the microphone back and forcing myself to maintain my painted smile. "If you have any information, please don't hesitate to call the number on the screen."
The rest of my shift is hardly all that interesting. I'm forced to stand around as we film the crowds that watch the debris burn and the emergency crews that struggle to maintain the fires. When the sun begins to get hotter, citizens turn back and head home. I slouch against a wall, rolling my shoulders to loosen their tension. Gods, even this isn't exciting. Someone pries my mic from my hand and heads back toward the crew, likely packing up for the day. Someone else kicks my foot.
"Hard at work?"
I jump, opening my eyes to see Reno staring down at me with a cocky smile. Behind him, his bald partner, Rude, surveys the scene in silence. I shake my head, pulling Reno into a tight hug and drowning in the scent of cheap cologne and whiskey. Should get someone to bottle the smell. I nudge Rude with my elbow, but he remains stoic.
"Oh, c'mon. You're no fun when you're on the job," I tease, pouting. His eyebrow twitches upward, but he says nothing. Damn, his poker face is good. "You guys here on Tseng's orders?"
"Yeah, he's workin' on something else," Reno shrugs. His eyes narrow on the rubble and he laughs to himself. "Damn rebels, thinkin' they can change the world."
"Clear the scene?" Rude asks, his voice low. He refuses to look at me when I huff. Reno pokes my forehead with the tip of his rod.
"Yup. Gonna have to ask you to pack it up, Sweetheart."
"Whatever," I scoff, lifting one of the cases on the ground at my feet. "Why're you guys showing up so late, anyway?"
"Classified info, 'kay?"
"Asshole."
"Mhm." He whistles, eyebrows raised as he looks past me. Kelsey strides past on her ridiculously high heels and pulls her phone from the side of her very deep v-neck. "Should watch the news more."
"You're gross."
"Scram, bitch."
"Hit him for me," I mutter to Rude, patting his arm and following my crew to their van.
The van drops off at the station, and from there, I head to the train station. It's so expensive to part on this side of Midgar, so I usually drive halfway and take the train back and forth. Somehow, it's cheaper that way. I take a seat in one of the middle cars, turning my phone off and on in hopes of seeing a notification from anyone. Who am I kidding? Reno and Rude are the only people I know. The door hisses open and passengers make quick exits upon seeing a large man with a gun on his arm (what the hell?) and a… Guy with a big sword. I frown, letting them scurry past. The entire car shakes when the gunman plops onto a seat near me. Quickly, I shoot Reno a text.
Your suspects are on a train to Sector 7.
I tuck the device away and slump in my seat, staring at the ceiling. They don't scare me, these rebels. They all have big dreams, ignorant of their real effects on the world, but they don't hurt normal people on purpose. Not when they think they're the common person's hero. The gunman catches me looking his way and scowls, his skull tattoo rippling with the enormous muscles on his arm.
"What're you lookin' at?" he demands. I shrug and return to staring at the ceiling. "Yo, Cloud! Jessie wanted to show ya somethin'!"
The guy with the sword, Cloud I'm assuming, slowly makes his way through the car as beams of red light signal the security check area we've entered. How does he swing that thing? I frown, raising an eyebrow. Is that just an ornament or…? I close my eyes, drifting off into a sleep just light enough to tune out the rebels' conversation. When the train shrieks to a stop, I let them get off before going around them to the parking lot just above the slums.
My apartment door hits the wall behind it when I swing it open (to avoid that damn jam) and I cringe. Gonna have to pay for the hole. Yawning, I collapse on my stained old couch and set an alarm on my phone. Gotta get some shut-eye before dealing with people again.
When I head back out again, the sun is even dimmer than before. My truck chugs along as well as she can. She's never been pretty, and she smells like onions most days, but at least I can get where I need to. Bought her from some shop keeper in Sector Six. Come to think of it, he smelled like onions, too. I shudder and shake the thought away, taking my armpit-truck the short way to the Shinra building.
The headquarters towers above the rest of Midgar, a pillar of doom rather than one of hope. Skylights beam up into its shiny, tinted windows to highlight the company's great monument of success. I shoot Reno another text from the road outside, not wanting to get lost in the parking garage. Soon enough, he heads outside, loosening another button in his shirt to reveal his bare chest to the world. I roll my eyes and put my window down when he taps on the glass. Put a shirt on.
"You might wanna find somewhere better to stop. Tseng wants to talk."
"Why?"
"Didn't say. Not my business," he shrugs.
"He can't just call me?"
"Guess not." I sigh adjusting my grip on the wheel.
"Fine. Get in."
Reno obeys, letting his hand out the open window as I delve further into the land of fancy cars and low ceilings. He glances at the center console and picks up a cardboard carton with a skeptical raise of his eyebrow.
"Still smokin'?"
"Trying to quit," I correct, pulling the box free and tossing it back onto the console. "Don't tempt me."
"Don't keep 'em in plain view," he shrugs, though he's smiling.
Ignoring his advice, I pull into a wide enough space and hop down to the ground. The whole place smells like leather interiors and stuffy new suits. Reno presses his ID to the elevator at the end of the hall, letting me in after him. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, shaking my hands out. I haven't been here in a while, and for good reason. Reno flashes a grin and leads the way across one of the HQ's top floors.
Secretaries and assistants bustle about, though few enter the looming glass doors at the end of the hallway. Above our heads, a large, shiny plaque announces Shinra's Department of Public Safety. Outside the doors, a smaller sign reveals a larger title: The Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department. A damn mouthful for people who call themselves Turks. Reno lets himself in and I shoot him a look when he doesn't hold the door.
"Welcome back, Sweetheart," Reno says, throwing his arms out in a wide, sweeping motion.
"Just take me to Tseng," I huff, feeling my face go red when a woman across the room raises an eyebrow at us.
"Gettin' to that part."
He strides across the large department's sleek floors and knocks on a pair of glossy wooden doors. Before anyone on the other side can answer, he swings the doors open and shoves me in, grinning. The director looks up from his desk, scowling.
"Reno, I told you to knock and wait before entering."
"Sorry, forgot," Reno shrugs, jamming his hands into his pockets.
"… That was fifteen minutes ago."
"And?" Reno pushes me closer to the desk and I smack his hand away, silently trying to make him stop with my eyes. No such luck. Grinning, he smacks me right back. "Brought you your girl."
"Hello, Kat," Tseng sighs, pushing his papers aside. "Reno, see yourself out, please. And close the door."
"Should I knock, too?"
"Reno."
Reno shoots me a wink and obeys his orders. Thirty seconds in and he's already lost his patience. This doesn't bode well for me. Sighing, I turn back to Tseng, crossing my arms. Let's get this over with.
"What do you want?" I ask, keeping my face stern. Channel your inner Rude; don't break.
"You were at the reactor today," he comments, turning to his computer screen for a moment.
"Yeah, and?" I shrug. "It's what the job requires."
"Anti-Shinra groups are getting out of hand these days." An ebony eyebrow twitches and his long, smooth hair straightens itself as he turns back to me.
"I guess." This isn't working. "Tseng, why the hell am I here?"
"I hate to admit this," he starts, his voice low. He glances at the door, knowing full well Reno is still outside. "With only three of us on the field, it's becoming difficult to track all suspicions at once."
"So you want me to snoop?" I shrug. "Fine. I park in the slums every morning."
"No." Tseng hesitates, his breath lingering in his chest as he pauses to think. I frown. "I… would like for you to rejoin the ranks."
"Oh." I fall back, slumping in one of the stiff chairs before his desk. My heart pounds in my ears and my head feels light. A memory tries to breach the surface, like a word that lingers on the tip of your tongue, but it can't seem to break free. "How do you know you can trust me?"
"You've been sending us tips and clues since you left." He pauses, his dark eyes watching me as I force myself to sit straighter. My palms begin to sweat. "And you're good at keeping secrets." That was low. I shoot him a look and sigh.
"But the President—"
"We're more independent than before. I already spoke with Heidegger." I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He heaves a sigh. "You're clear."
"And what if I don't have everything I did way back when?" I demand, grasping at straws. I shouldn't accept, but I can't quite remember why. Frustrated, I grind my teeth together, suddenly itching for fresh air and a smoke.
"You've handled kidnappings and bar fights without Shinra-grade weapons nearly every week. Your determination is something to be spoken for." Tseng takes a breath, eyeing the door once more. "If you could balance out the personality dynamic around here, that would be a bonus."
"Tseng, I don't know—"
"The potential I saw three years ago is still there, Kat."
You rejected me then, but now that you need me… I huff, drying my sweaty hands off on my pants. What is it about this place? I force away my thoughts and muster up the strength to look at Tseng, willing him not to kill me with disappointment. As I start to speak, my mind sends forth a memory of the two of us, me and Reno, laying on the ground of the slums, watching the lights of cars on the upper plates flash through the cracks. This is what we dreamed of. I snap my mouth shut, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Don't fuck this up.
"Alright. I'll do it."