A/N: While writing this chapter, I listened to Buck Tick's "Dokudanjou Beauty". lol

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters.

Chapter Seven

Yazoo watched the lights as they played across the walls, listened to the beats of the music as they rang through his ears. It was slow, lethargic, yet deep. It resonated in his gut, had his heart beating, his finger half-heartedly tapping against the table in rhythm. He stared upward, watching the lights at they danced, his attention fully focused on the display, ignoring everything else.

He had been here for hours now. If his estimate was right, it was probably nearing dawn. Another day. What would it bring? he wondered with a sly smile.

"Please, reconsider," the man at his side pleaded.

Yazoo lazily turned his emerald eyes back to him, looking over the pathetic man. He was on the chair opposite of him, his blue eyes asking, hoping desperately the silver-haired male would change his mind. If he knew anything about Yazoo before entering this game, he would have known to stay far away.

"No," was his simple, emotionless answer.

"But I need that bike," the man explained, "How am I supposed to get home?"

"You should have thought about that before gambling with it." Yazoo turned his attention back to the lights, his hand no longer following the rhythm of the music as he reached for his glass. He ran his fingers over the cool surface, relishing in its touch for a moment, before he brought it to his lips.

"I'll give you all the gil I have. Please. It's a long way to Kalm."

Yazoo looked back his way, a strange expression on his face. This man had traveled all the way from Kalm to come here? It was a great place, yes, but he wondered if it was worth driving so far for. And if it was so important, he thought the man would have been a bit more careful with his transportation. He wouldn't have bet it in a game he was certain to lose.

"I don't need gil," he replied.

"But-!"

Yazoo rose from his chair without warning, leaving his drink abandoned on the table while he headed toward the bar for another. He never made two steps, before the man reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Wait!" he said, barely able to get the word out before Yazoo turned on him, taking hold of the hand that had dared to touch him. He pulled him forward, slamming his knee between the man's legs. The man convulsed in pain, unable to recover before Yazoo grabbed him by the head, slamming it down on the table. The man crumbled to the floor, unconscious and unable to get back up again.

Yazoo sighed heavily. He would pick a fight with the least defensive person in the place.

He looked around his immediate space. People were nearby, staring at the spectacle but no one daring to get involved. Yazoo shook his head, leaving the unconscious man behind and weaving his way through the crowd. A few people parted for him to pass, but most ignored him, bumping into him as they danced and lost themselves in the music. He paid no attention to the people who reacted to him, who tried to lure him into the dance with suggestive stares and a scant touch.

He ignored them all. As much as he found this club interesting, he would never be caught dead dancing.

Moving passed the lively crowd, he approached the bar. He leaned against the counter, between the line of people, awaiting the bartender who was moving back and forth serving drinks.

Yazoo was aware of a pair of eyes on him, and turned to his right. He was surprised, even if he never showed it. Sitting on a stool just beside him was a teenage girl, one he had seen before, someone he remembered seeing when he first awoke from his close encounter with death. If he remembered right, her name was Shelke.

She was staring directly at him, having no intention of hiding her presence. She seemed to fit the atmosphere of the club, despite the fact that she looked a few years too young to be permitted inside. Her legs were crossed, a drink untouched in her hand. Her face was expressionless, her eyes knowing as they bored into him, challenging him to say something, daring him to run from her.

After all, he knew why she was there. And she knew that he knew. It was her loyalty to Vincent that brought her here. However she managed to find him, he'd never know.

This place was in the lowest level of Midgar, one of the few places that had been rebuilt outside of the ever-expanding Edge. It seemed the only people who came down here were those looking for trouble, or an immoral good time. This young woman didn't fit either criteria.

Her intentions were clear, but she didn't do anything. She didn't even speak. Her mako-infused eyes just continued to stare at him, even as he turned away, pretending to ignore her.

He thought about this Shelke. He had never said as much as one word to the girl, and neither she to him. She called Vincent every so often, and they would talk for a few minutes. They were always lifeless conversations, and he wondered how two people so serious could have much of a friendship. But whenever Vincent did talk to her, Yazoo would notice the slight change in his voice, the look in his eyes and the light smile, that would tell of something deeper than a casual friendship. They shared something.

Yazoo turned back to her when the bartender was no where nearby. He didn't try to hide the fact that his eyes searched her for weapons. From what he could tell, she was unarmed. A fight between the two was unlikely, but Yazoo entertained the idea for a moment. Loz mentioned once that he had fought the girl, and that she was surprisingly good.

She had no weapons, but the one thing she did have was a cell phone. She most likely had called Vincent by now, and he would probably be there shortly. If he didn't want to be dragged back into his monotonous life, he had better leave now.

He turned from the bar. Shelke's eyes followed him as he approached the crowd, then suddenly stopped.

He hadn't thought much of where he would go. He wasn't having second thoughts about leaving, but it suddenly struck him that he would probably be followed. If Shelke had followed him here and he was only a few miles away, what would they do when he was on another continent?

He would be alone in the wild without a chaperone, and Vincent, the WRO, and even ShinRa would have no idea what he was up to. And after a while, his brothers would probably start to worry. He wondered if satisfying his need for adventure would be worth all the trouble.

He turned back to Shelke, meeting her eyes again.

"Would you like a ride?" he suddenly asked.

Shelke raised a brow. "To where?"

"Far away," he answered.

She removed her hand from her untouched drink, staring at him quizzically. She thought for a moment, before she nodded her head and stood from the stool. "Alright."

Yazoo turned and made his way through the crowd, Shelke following close behind him. He glanced back at her once as they moved through the dancers, seeing her close behind him, as unaffected by the crowd as he was. Eventually they made their way to the exit, stepping out into the brisk twilight air. The sun was beginning to rise. In any moment now, it would cover Midgar and Edge, and the people inside would leave to retreat back to their homes, to sleep off the drinks and the dancing.

Yazoo made his way to the bike parked outside, the one he had recently acquired. He pulled the keys from his pocket, glancing back at his newly found companion as he mounted the motorcycle. She took her seat behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he started the engine. They said nothing to each other, as he drove away from the club, taking them toward the edge of Midgar.

A/N: I have this thing for Yazoo in clubs. I don't know why. Ha ha ha!

Anyway, if you liked it, please send me a review. Every one of them is very much appreciated. ^_^