Title: Boy Soldier

Author: Neldluva

Fandom: FFVII

Pairings: None, or lots, depending on how you look at it.

Rating: NC17

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: A shrink and Reno gets some incentive in his studies.

Author's note: Ack, I've been gone for so long … I'm very sorry to everyone who's been waiting for this. I'm also sorry it's such a short chapter, but that's just the way the division turned out. But as consolation for both of these, I'll post twice this week. Thanks for putting up with me!

"So, Reno. How are you feeling today?"

Reno sat sideways in the armchair, his head dangling over one arm and his leg over the other. He was calmly puffing away at a cigarette, not even bothering to look at the shrink they had stuck him with. He didn't need anyone in his head, least of all a stuffy doctor.

"I'm cool, yo," he answered smoothly. He blew a stream of smoke over his knees. "Usual."

"Dr. Katz has informed me you are gaining weight. That is good. Are you excited to be starting your real training?"

"Yeah," Reno said, swinging his legs back and forth. "Can't wait to get a gun in my hands and all. Jenkins says they get to learn some pretty sweet stuff, yo."

The shrink scribbled a little in his notes. Reno rolled his eyes and took another drag. If these Turk guys thought they could get into his head, they had another think coming.

"I thought we could talk about your parents today, Reno. Can you tell me your first memory of your mother?"

"Nope," Reno said, unflustered. "Don't remember much about her. And my old man neither, so don't ask."

"Do you even remember the color of her hair or the way she smelled?"

"Nope."

The shrink stared at him for a long while before closing his notebook. "Reno, I know you don't want to be here. I know you have a very strong sense of privacy. But the Turk administration needs me to provide a psychological analysis on you before you can do anything."

Reno just snorted and snubbed out his used cigarette. "Dunno what I can tell ya, man. I don't remember my folks."

On Reno's seventeenth birthday, he received a computer. He stared at it suspiciously as he returned from his customary long, hot shower. The black box took up most of his desk, staring blankly back at him. He circled it once, looking it over, before turning his back to get dressed. When he turned around again, it was still there, not doing anything. He curled up at his desk chair, bringing his knees up to his chest and setting his chin on them, just watching it.

Jenkins walked in a few minutes later, raising one eyebrow at Reno. "Hey … uh, what are you doing?"

"Waiting for it to do somethin', yo." Reno stared intently at the screen, waiting for it to do something … anything.

"Well, first you have to turn it on, doofus." Jenkins reached over, switching on the computer and monitor. Reno jumped a little, startled as the machine hummed on. The monitor lit up, and Reno leaned in for a closer look.

"Wow," he muttered, poking at the glass.

Jenkins frowned at him, looking perplexed. "You … have used a computer before, right?"

Reno frowned right back, raising an eyebrow. "An' where would I get a computer, yo?"

"Point," Jenkins conceded. "Want me to show you how to use it?"

Two hours and plenty of explanation later, Reno knew how to use the computer, theoretically, at least. Most of what Jenkins said involved big words that he didn't know yet, and the not-knowing made him grumpy. Also, the key to the entire thing seemed to be the keyboard, which gave Reno some trouble. He still wasn't good enough at the whole reading and writing bit to be good at the typing, and he envied the way Jenkins's hands flew over the keys. He flopped on his bed that night, tired but determined to do better in his studies with Venus, if only for the sake of the computer.