A Day in the Life
Collection of drabbles.
l l l
AN: This was my favorite part to write so far.
l l l Part 21 l l l
"Take it."
Reno hesitated a moment, looking uncertainly at the man in front of him. He was tall and thin, and he exuded a certain degree of authority that might have intimidated the younger man, but the redhead refused to look affected. Instead, he reached for the proffered firearm, the familiar weight of it settling in his palm and putting him more at ease. He'd handled weapons for many years and felt most comfortable with a gun in his hand. He felt as if it could erase the parts of his life he tried for many years to forget—the weapon a sort of redemption he could feel within his grasp. It made him feel safe.
"Kill him," the field leader commanded, breaking him from his thoughts.
As the words rang in his ears, Reno's eyes widened and he dropped the pistol, recoiling as if burned—that was the last thing he had expected to hear. He'd heard rumors of the initiation and training required for selection, but he wasn't sure he was willing to submit himself to such measures.
Tseng merely raised an eyebrow before crossing his arms; he was not amused.
"I thought you were ready to become a Turk—I guess I was wrong."
The insinuation was not lost on Reno. It was humiliating and offensive, and he was never one to just take it. But this was different. His decisions from here on out would determine the course for the rest of his life, and acting on impulse would only hurt his chances of moving on up.
He tried to be rational. "He's just a civilian," he pointed out—then added, "sir."
"And that matters, why?"
Said 'civilian' was currently kneeling in front of Tseng, facing the redhead, both blindfolded and gagged. He'd already been warned to keep quiet, but the low whimpers and pleas did not escape Reno's notice. In fact, they heightened the significance of the situation, causing him to zero in on the fact that he was being asked to kill an innocent human being. A blameless man.
Tseng continued, "As a Turk, you are expected to act without question."
He stared hard at the younger man.
Act without question… so unemotional, so cold. It reminded him of the cold steel of the weapon in question.
"Now," his voice was firm but low, "pick it up."
Reno didn't hesitate. He knelt down to pick up the gun and then straightened, eyeing the weapon with a sense of openness. The cold metal began to warm in his grip, and his mind tried to wrap around what he was being asked to do. He wasn't being asked to kill an innocent man, he realized. He was being asked to act, to get the job done. It required a level of detachment, to be consciously disengaged.
And, Reno admitted, he would do it.
No longer were the man's pleas haunting his ears or clawing at his heart. No.
Tseng reached forward and removed the man's blindfold. The eyes stared into Reno's cold ones with rampant fear. He raised the pistol and pressed it soundlessly against a sweaty forehead, just above the frightened gaze. He could feel the man's desperate shaking, but he didn't move.
"Kill him."
Bang.
He didn't close his eyes until he got home.
l l l
to be continued.