Title: Boy Soldier
Author: Neldluva FFVII
Pairings: None, or lots, depending on how you look at it.
Rating: R, NC17 in later chapters
Don't read this if you don't like: Angst, sex (of the m/m and m/f sort), foul language, underage sex, questionable consent, masturbation, voyeurism (sort of), violence, blood, drug and alcohol use, prostitution
Disclaimer: Reno and FF7-verse are definitely not mine. Please don't sue, I have negative monies. The OC's are mine, though. Don't steal.
What you can expect from the fic overall: This is my version Reno's backstory, or how he got where he was in the various FF7 games and movies. It is a long, difficult journey, sometimes funny, sometimes sad. But hey, that's life.
What you can expect from this chapter: Reno begins his initiation into the gang. Still not happy.
Author's note: Not much to say about this chapter. Except for the whole "I told you so" deal about the angst. My characters don't stay happy for long, but Reno's pretty tough. But then, that's the point of this story, right?
"That one?"
"Yeah, that one," Tiny Tim rumbled, peering over Reno's shoulder and pointing at a man across the street. "We had our eye on him a long time. Can you do it, or is you chicken?"
"I ain't chicken," Reno said, standing up and straightening his clothes. He pulled the hood over his hair, making him less visible, and crept through the crowd in front of the nightclub. He slid, smooth as oil, up to the target and snatched his wallet, rushing back to Tim's hiding spot and showing him.
"Good job, Red," Tiny Tim said, thumbing through the wallet for the most valuable pieces. "A few more like this and Bones might even let you have a blanket or somethin' tonight."
Reno flashed a brief smile and sat back to rest and wait for another victim. "Hey, Tim?"
"What, yo?"
"Why'd Bones pick me up off the street? There were a buncha other kids around."
"Cuz you're the best, right? Bones don't pick no one but the best. We heard you're pretty hot shit in your part of the town. You're a sneaky little fucker, you're good at snitchin' stuff. So you're good for the gang, yo. Anyway, you got a pretty face, Red."
"I ain't a girl."
"Yeah, but Bones likes pretty things. He don't care much if they're boys or girls. And he don't like girls in the gang. They mess stuff up."
Reno scuffed at his worn shoes and breathed on his hands. He wasn't sure exactly what Bones liked to do to pretty boys and girls, but he had some vague idea that he wouldn't like it. He was more determined than ever to prove himself an equal to the older boys, so when another man with money walked by, Reno was the one trailing him and plucking from his pockets.
By the time they returned to the lair, they were loaded with several wallets, a few watches, and a ring. Tiny Tim clapped Reno on the back, calling it a good night's work, and dumped the loot at Bones's feet. The older boy looked up, lifting the brim of the hat that had fallen over his eyes and chewing contemplatively on his cigarette.
"S'good, kid," he pronounced, thumbing through the spoils. "Good stuff." He tossed something at Reno, smiling through his cigarette. Reno picked it up, his eyes going wide as all he saw was naked women and huge breasts. He flipped through the magazine and saw more of the same.
Tiny Tim patted him on the back again and laughed. "It's the kid's first titty mag, give him a minute."
The rest of the boys pushed Reno back into a corner, tossed a blanket on him, and did as Tim suggested and left him alone. Reno gaped all the way through the magazine, wondering why all of these women would take naked pictures of themselves.
Reno snuffed out his cigarette and pushed the longer pieces of hair out of his eyes. He was crouched with the rest of his gang behind a line of knocked-over trashcans, waiting for any sign of movement across the street. He knew, and the rest of the boys knew, that it was only a matter of time before the other gang attacked. He blew on his hands and tucked his ragged clothes tighter … this winter was cold.
"Hey, Red," Tiny Tim said, coming up behind Reno and scooting in beside him. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Reno replied, eyes watching sharply across the street.
"It's your first fight, ain't it, yo?"
"Yeah."
"You'll do good." Tim had a nice big knife in one hand, and with all the muscle power behind it that knife would be able to sever bone. Reno tapped his own smaller knife and chewed the inside of his cheek, anxious for the fight to start and be done with.
It started slowly, each side testing the other out. With only five guns in the entire fight and not many bullets to spare, none of the firepower went to waste. Reno shut his eyes, hearing a few boys scream with pain and the bullets ricochet off the trashcans. Once both sides were sure the other was out of ammo, they both started to move.
Suddenly, the fight sped up, and Reno was distracted by his need to stay alive. He used his small, agile body to duck blows and kick out at ankles and knees, slicing here and there with his knife when he got a good angle. His hands were no longer cold, warmed by the activity and by the hot, sticky blood that covered them.
It had been only a few seconds and it had been an entire year by the time he stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. The other boys standing were from his gang, and he felt a rush of relief and victory. He fumbled for a cigarette and lit it, inhaling deeply and looking around for Tiny Tim … he had long since learned not to choke on the smoke.
"Tim!" he called, exhaling the smoke and kicking at a few bodies. "Tim, c'mon, yo! Get your motherfuckin' ass over here!"
"Hey, kid!" Bones called, swooping down and settling his arm over Reno's small shoulders. "Good work today! Let's go get boozed up, yo."
Reno pushed the arm away, still looking for Tiny Tim. "Where's Tim?" he asked, feeling his stomach drop a little.
"Tiny? He's, uh, over there." Bones waved off in the distance. "I seen it, took three of those mangy motherfuckers to take him down. He went out good, kid, don't worry about him."
Reno sniffed a little and wiped at his cold nose with his sleeve before taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah. Let's get boozed up," he agreed at last, shaking his hair into his eyes.
"An' then tomorrow, we can get you some tats, yo. You're a man, you're part of the gang now!"
Reno had just turned ten.
He spent the rest of the night cradling a beer, huddled in a dark corner of the bar where the more moral-minded patrons wouldn't notice him and rat him out to the authorities. The other boys in the gang had rounded up some of the girls who worked the streets nearby and were busy celebrating their victory in other ways, ways Reno still didn't really understand or take interest in.
One of the girls came over to him and sat close, ruffling at his hair and smiling at him. He smiled back a little and sipped at his beer, feeling the bubbles go all the way down … it felt cleansing. The girl giggled and called him cute, twirling at her hair and tugging her shirt down by the neckline. Reno shook his head and turned back to his beer, though he leaned a little against the girl. With Tim gone he felt lonely and he could pretend, just for a little while, that the girl cared enough to be his friend.
"Awww, look, he fell asleep! Isn't he precious?"
Reno batted at the hand in his hair and groaned, blinking in the sudden light. The girl from last night was smiling down at him, showing a gap between her front teeth and thick eye makeup. "You fell asleep, sweetie, I didn't have the heart to wake you up."
Reno sat up a little more so he wasn't leaning on the girl and saw Bones and his girl standing before them. "Get up, kid," Bones said, kicking at Reno's foot. "We've gotta get over to the parlor before fucking business starts. Thanks for looking over him, Lor."
The girl giggled and pushed Reno away. "Come find me in a few years," she said, pulling down her neckline again. "I'll be sure to fit you in, yo."
Reno stumbled after Bones, still yawning and trying to wake up. Bones laughed, abandoning the girl to clap Reno on the back. "Yeah, kid, I tell ya … in a few years, the ladies'll be all over you. Trust me, yo. You ready for this shit?"
"Yeah, I'm ready, yo," Reno said, sticking his chin out with determination. "I ain't a fucking kid no more neither."
"Yeah, sure, kid," Bones said absently, pushing open the door to a dimly lit shop with dingy windows. "You know the drill, eh? You're in the gang … if you're alive next week."
Reno swallowed nervously. The needles used at Pete's were notorious for never being cleaned, and only the suicidal needle junkies made regular appearances – except for Bones's gang. It was a mark of pride to wear the tattoos, and not just because they meant you were in the gang. Only the truly lucky and strong survived the marks and the diseases that came with them.
But Reno kept himself from trembling as he climbed up on the chair that was made for someone much older. Bones handed over a wad of gil and lit up, smirking at Reno from down near his feet. Pete leaned over to inspect his new victim and size up exactly where the marks would go on Reno's skinny face.
"Young'un, Bones," Pete pointed out, rubbing at his grizzled face and spitting tobacco-stained spit. "You sure he's cool?"
"He's cool, yo. Just do it."
Reno squeezed his eyes shut, hissing with pain as he felt the needle. His ragged fingernails cut into the skin of his palms and drew blood, but he refused to scream or cry out. By the time Pete was finished, he was shaking and sweaty and tears had started to leak from his eyes.
"There," Bones said, holding up a dirty mirror for Reno to see the red marks now resting beneath his eyes. "Looks good, kid. Welcome to the gang."