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Off the Edge of Despair
Edge's Main Avenue began at the border of what had been Midgar's Sectors 3 and 4, stretching from the outskirts of the desolate metropolis. From there, the new town expanded north in the direction of the coastline, and south towards the looming mountain range that arced around the once-great city to the west. At a distance, it seemed a magnificent urban sprawl but, in reality, this was not a true representation. Most of its buildings had been erected using scrap materials and debris from Midgar, and its streets smelled of iron and rust.
In the wake of Meteorfall, Edge had grown rapidly with the help and co-ordination of the purpose-formed World Regenesis Organisation. After the great storm that had ripped Midgar apart, many sections of the upper-city, known as the Plate, remained elevated but unstable. The constant threat of its collapse or a toxic leak from the similarly-crumbling Mako Reactor facilities saw Midgar deemed uninhabitable, and the citizens of the Slums relocated to create a new community.
They had originally elected to build the first of their homes near the construction sites of Sector4, the last segment of the Plate to be completed by the monopolistic Shinra Electric Power Company. It was here that the best tools and supplies were initially to be found but, as Edge developed into a bustling haven for the refugees of Midgar, resources became scarce, and other methods of obtaining the necessary equipment and materials were employed.
Despite the hardship, Edge itself boasted many things for the poorer classes that Midgar had not, including fresh air and sunlight. With the irreparable damage incurred by the Reactors, some forms of natural life had started to emerge on the plains that encompassed the city. In addition, following the events several months before regarding the mysterious Deepground, the Mako had been redistributed across the globe, reviving many barren lands. The Planet's energy was no longer being drained by the hulking power plants of the Shinra Corporation, and the so-called Wastelands were gradually showing signs of returning to their former fertile state.
Johnny ran a café which sat along the outer limits of Main Avenue, somewhat beyond the scaling towers of the recognised downtown. It was a humble establishment set upon a patch of open ground at the perimeter of the eastern-most residential area, adjacent to the highway bound northeast for the archaic settlement of Kalm. The bar was far enough removed from the activity of everyday life to offer an escape to those who needed it, but only a short walk from the business quarter. Not a prime location by any means, but neither was it the worst, particularly given what had already been claimed by competitors.
Johnny had been born and raised in a village of the Sector7 Slums, and had rarely set foot outside Midgar during his youth. Around the time he turned eighteen, a new bar opened in the district by the name of Seventh Heaven. The tavern was co-owned by a terrifying man with a gatling-gun attached to his right arm, and one of the most beautiful girls he had ever laid eyes upon. Her name was Tifa, and she worked hard every day as barmaid and manager, charming her customers and tempting them with some of the best cooking around. He could still remember the first time he saw her; silken black hair sweeping down her spine, with a fringe hiding one of her large, brown eyes; she was an Angel of the Slums. She and Johnny became friends when he began to frequent Seventh Heaven and, before long, he had fallen in love with her.
He had always admired Tifa's unfaltering spirit, and when his lifestyle teetered on the brink of association with the seedy underworld of Sector6's Wall Market, it was she who inspired him to leave Midgar and travel the Planet. For that Johnny was truly grateful as, had it not been for her companionship and motivation, he may not still be alive. Three days after he disembarked upon his journey of self-discovery, his home was destroyed and his parents killed in an unprecedented atrocity. It had been reported that the terrorist group, AVALANCHE, were responsible, but he knew better.
The subsequent grief had smothered him, leaving him feeling helpless and alone, like a young boy lost in an unfamiliar and unkind world. It would be more than two years before he returned to Midgar, to put to rest the ghosts of his past, and finally say farewell to the family and friends who perished that day.
At the time, Johnny was among the masses who could not figure out how to go on and, when he learned that Tifa had established another bar in Edge, he was moved by her strength and decisiveness. The original Seventh Heaven had also been buried in the Sector7 incident, so when Tifa reopened, it was like a little piece of home for him. With those thoughts in mind, she became more than just an object of his unrequited love, but a respected figure in his heart.
I'm going to follow Tifa's example, Johnny had deliberated, but how? I know…I'll run a business. I'll give hope to those who have lost their way, just as Tifa did for me.
This was how Johnny's Heaven came to be. From behind the polished steel counter of the stall, he could observe customers come and go against a backdrop of Edge's high-rises and cranes, and the colossal dark skeleton of Midgar's Plate beyond. The area that belonged to the open-air café was marked out by a frail picket fence, and contained an array of tables that he had accumulated over the last few years. Creaking wooden stools and worn green armchairs were among the mishmash of seating, but he did not mind, and his patrons never complained.
He was able to provide some simple cooking and a small selection of coffee, tea, and his personal favourite, sake. People who came to Johnny's Heaven were often subjected to the tale of his life in the Slums, the encouragement he had gained from Tifa to change his ways, and how he had been reborn. As a result of that, many of those he spoke to wanted to meet Tifa themselves. They would investigate the restored Seventh Heaven, and ultimately wound up becoming her regulars. Unaware of this, Johnny continued to open his bar six days per week to attract more clientele or, more accurately, an audience who would listen to him. However, no matter how hard he tried, he was powerless to stop the decline.
Instead, he had spent the previous months adding to his lot. While much of the curving roof shelter above the stall came from metal he had recovered from an airship in the aftermath of the Battle of Midgar, his pride and joy was the water tower he had constructed almost single-handedly. The tall frame and tank not only allowed him to store water gathered from Lake Hope, it stood like a welcoming beacon against the horizon to anyone gazing out from Edge towards the Wastelands. He had also invested in a donut-shaped sign cut from iron to hang at the corner of the yard, but the lousy painter had misspelled his name, and the café was now advertised as 'Johonny's Heaven'.
Nevertheless, someone did come soon after. It was a brown-haired boy by the name of Denzel. Children rarely wandered the peripheries of Edge on their own, afraid that they might be attacked by the monsters that still prowled the plains. This kid, though, was special to Johnny as he was part of Tifa's family. Each time Denzel visited the café, Johnny made sure that he put all his effort into giving him the best service.
"Good day, Denzel." he called from the counter, lowering his head of spiked red hair as he bowed deeply in his usual enthusiastic manner. "Make yourself at home."
Denzel glanced up at him for no more than an instant, acknowledging him with a quick nod, before trudging across the empty lot to the farthest table from the stall. He watched as the boy sank slowly into an old pinewood chair, his expression thoughtful. Giving the work surface a final wipe, Johnny tossed the dirty cloth into the sink by his side.
"Why don't you come closer and sit over here?" the host proposed, his hands held at his hips in mock displeasure. "You don't like my company?"
"I'm meeting someone." Denzel answered quietly.