Reno—Healen
Well, the vacation was over—big surprise. Still, I knew I'd get massive points for being the one to bring home the prize. I was pretty damn pleased with myself, and I wouldn't be the only one.
It still rankled how cold and withdrawn Schala was on the chopper ride to Healen. She wore the headset but pushed up the mouthpiece, skinny arms folded protectively round her as she stared out the window.
I pointed out a couple of landmarks to her on the way. She nodded, but didn't respond or look up at me. The sunlight on her profile framed her heart-shaped face and made her purple dress glow. Long electric blue hair blocked her green eyes from me.
I fell silent, watching her. Has to be a dye job, I thought, but said nothing. Too many people made that comment to me for me to do it to someone else. Not that it mattered. It was just so… blue.
"Ever met the president before?" I said nonchalantly.
She shook her head, but still didn't look up. I was flummoxed; I figured that was a surefire way to get her cute little mouth to drop open and turn wide surprised eyes to me.
"Well, you're gonna," I said. "Not to mention the rest of the Turks."
She nodded. I may as well have been talking to a wall. I sighed explosively, folded my arms and glared out the other window at the clouds. Are we there yet? I thought, feeling like an executioner with his prisoner instead of a hero with a miracle to deliver.
The landing was short, uneventful. We were greeted at the pad by Elena. She looked ruffled by the wind of the landing and something else, but I didn't really care at this point. I hopped down while the blades were still spinning down and turned to look up at my recalcitrant passenger. She descended the steps, eyes on the ground, then looked up at the rooftop pad and Elena's icy look.
"Thought you were on vacation," Elena said to Reno, ignoring the girl.
Reno shrugged. "Eh, well, you know. Is the president awake?"
Elena nodded. "Waiting for you. You better have a good explanation, he's in a mood." She glared at Schala with her chin out and spun on her heel to walk toward the access door. I rolled my eyes and followed, jerking my head at Schala.
"It's all right," I said in an undertone to reassure her. "Her time of the month."
Schala flicked her eyes at me, then looked straight ahead. I guess a smile would have been too much to expect. I reflected how like a coiled spring she seemed, tense and huddled even when standing straight up. Probably frigid, too, I thought. She wouldn't have enjoyed me anyway. Just as well.
She followed me down precipitous switchback stairs to the main floor of the lodge. I held the door for her. That much she'd let me do, it seemed. A couple of doctors and nurses were conferring in the main room. I knocked on the door to the president's suite.
"Come in, Reno," Rufus Shinra's smooth voice issued from within. I opened the door and gestured for Schala to follow me in. She did so with extreme reluctance. Rufus huddled as usual in a wheelchair under an all-consuming grey sheet, the blinds drawn beside his desk. I flopped into one of the chairs across from him.
"Hi, sir," I said. "Brought you something." I glanced back at her.
Schala stood just inside the door, staring at Rufus. Her eyes slid to me.
"Go ahead, honey, show the president what you can do," I encouraged.
"I believe we have not been introduced," said Rufus, the merest hint of stiffness in his voice telling me he was severely pissed. Only intense emotion cracked that smooth political exterior.
"Of course," I said. "Rufus Shinra, Schala Zeal. Schala Zeal, President Rufus Shinra."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," said Rufus. "Forgive me for not rising." He extended his left hand across the desk, the one with less of the mark of the stigma on it. She stepped forward, extending her hand. I held my breath, grinning, excited.
I wasn't disappointed. The minute her fingers touched his her hand flared with green light, pouring into him. She gripped him when he tried to pull his hand back. The walls all drank up the green glow in the dimness.
It moved under the sheet, formless, just light all over the president. It seemed intimate, beautiful. I cast my mind back on the sensations of its coolness in my body when she healed my burn, that minty tingle beneath my skin. Definitely not substitute for a good roll in the hay, but unique and shivery all the same.
The glow faded. She released him and stepped back.
Rufus withdrew his fingers, head bending as he plucked the sheet back from his once black-mottled right arm. The skin was clear, pale but healthy. He continued tugging at the sheet until it came off in a sliding flop on the floor, his sandy hair and bandaged head revealed.
He reached up, a wondering look in his one visible eye, and touched his head. He pulled off the bandage to show himself now a picture of health, all in beiges and whites and greys of his suit. He peered keenly at Schala.
"Miss Zeal," he said, "you have a talent. Thank you, Reno, please wait outside."
"Sir, I told her…" I began, leaning forward.
"Wait outside, Reno," said the president, slightly less mild now, and I shoved my chair back to make haste. He didn't seem as angry as when I'd entered, but clearly wanted privacy with his healer.
Schala looked nervously up at me as I left. I felt bad, abandoning her when she was clearly so ill at ease, but I had my orders. I leaned against the wall outside the president's soundproofed office door and waited in silence.
The doctors had gone, and so had the unattractive nurse with the tight blond bun. Devoid of an audience I whistled. I whistle when it's boring and there's no one to annoy.
Fortunately I didn't have to wait too long. My favorite cohort strode in his badass way out of the back hall. His sunglasses mirrored my hair. I took the opportunity to fiddle with the spikes, knowing he hates it when I use his fashion statement as a personal grooming tool. But when you're me, almost everything is a grooming tool.
"Hey, partner," I said nonchalantly. "What's the skinny?"
Rude arched an eyebrow. "Heard you brought work home."
"Did I?" I said.
"Have a nice trip?" he said.
I shrugged. "Well, you know… no rest for the wicked."
He snorted. "The president wants to see us." He gestured at the door. "After you."
I rolled my eyes with a grin at him and opened the door, re-entering. Schala glanced over her shoulder. I was surprised to see a small smile on those pink lips of hers. It seems the president had worked his magical oratory in record time to crack the ice queen's façade. Rude shut the door behind him.
"Ah, good," said Rufus. "Reno, Rude, I am assigning you as escorts for Miss Zeal. She will be seeking out those blighted with Geostigma around the planet and using her skills to heal them of their illness. We will, of course, provide air travel to her during this important work. Tseng is arranging preparations now and you'll be notified when it's time to depart. In the interim, Miss Zeal, I invite you to make full use of our facilities here. I believe you'll find it quite comfortable. Reno, would you show our guest around while your partner prepares for departure? I assume you are still packed from your trip."
"Yes, sir," I said.
Schala pushed back her chair and rose, and so did the president. My heart swelled with patriotic and personal pride at the sight. My leader was once again whole, and I was responsible for it. I smirked as they elegantly shook hands, her back straight and shoulders wide as if she was his equal.
"Thank you, Mr. President," she said.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Zeal. Thank you again for agreeing to assist us," said Rufus.
"Thank you for your offer of help," said Schala. "It's much appreciated."
"It is fortunate our aims are the same and our resources complimentary," said Rufus. "Please don't hesitate to call me if you have any concerns. You have my card."
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
Rufus seated himself. Rude opened the door and held it for all of us to exit. I was almost out the door when Rufus called, "Oh, Reno?"
I glanced over my shoulder, a grin spreading on my face. Here it comes.
"Good work," he said, smiling at me.
Praise like liquid gold being poured over my body. Not a drop as a kid, but now that I'm grown, I just have to strut around being me and I get this abundance of it. "Thank you, sir." I strolled out, basking in my own awesomeness.
Schala—Kalm
The second helicopter trip I felt far safer, even though we'd doubled the number of strange men who could overpower me. It didn't matter. They teased each other like schoolboys in the cockpit, friends and partners whose ease loosened me up. Reno was far more animated as well. As fun as it was to observe their interaction and expressions as they bantered, I couldn't keep my eyes off the view.
"There's Midgar, down to our left," said Reno.
I slid across the cabin's bench seat to look down at a round ruined metropolis sitting heavily in the cup of a semicircle of barren mountains. All round the circumference insectlike machinery clung and scaffoldings sprouted, a meager bandage on a deep urban wound.
"Whoa," I said unselfconsciously into the microphone of the headset I wore.
"Yeah," he said. "It looks even worse from the air than the pictures in the papers, huh?"
"Mm," I said. I felt my breath taken away by the extent of both the city and its damage. Rotting towers seemed locked in a permanent sway at the center, wilted stems of twisted steel with the blossoms torn off. I shook my head to banish a useless memory of a similar scene a lifetime ago.
"Pretty big mess," said Reno. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding.
"A lot of people in Edge have Geostigma," said Rude. "That should be our next stop after Kalm."
"No," I said quickly. "It's still the biggest city in the world. I can't take on that many yet. I have to work up to it."
"How so?" said Reno.
I looked at the bit of him I saw around the edge of his seat, uncomfortable with my inability to articulate. "Just trust me. I'll get there, I promise." Or die trying, I added cynically to myself.
The men nodded without turning and didn't challenge me. They clearly didn't have any way to know what it was like for me, and were okay with that. It wasn't their job. They returned to their silliness. I returned to my view, eyes shying away from the Midgar scar. I could feel its pull on me even awake, but knew it hungered for more than I could yet give.
Crawl before you fly.
Kalm's architecture was soothing, but that was the only soothing thing about it. The people there had hard mean edges to their eyes, and there were more than I expected. I suppose, it being so close to Midgar, I should have pegged it for refugee territory. Refugees have seemingly infinite hungers and pain.
I'd committed to this first stop when discussing the itinerary with Rufus Shinra, a way to circumnavigate the biggest city and end with it as my last stop, after Junon and Fort Condor. The president had so graciously provided me air travel, fuel and guards, not to mention fresh warm clothes and supplies. And Kalm would not be less mean later, I supposed.
I braced myself as I went about the streets, trying to be as discreet as I could about my healing while Rude followed and Reno arranged our rooms at the inn. Neither of them blend in. They're Turks, and each have a very distinct presence. In theory I was safer than without them, although in practice I stood out more with a humorless well-built bodyguard.
I wasn't prepared for the mob that swept me up when word got out what was going on. I wasn't prepared for being physically dragged through a doorway into a house full of sick children. My head swam and my body chilled to icy depths in the darkness.
I left dizzy. I walked out the back door and looked up at a ring of burly, dirty men, with biceps big as my head. I felt the world drop away beneath my feet. The door slammed behind me. One had slipped around to block my escape. They closed, claustrophobically, shutting out hope and light.
No matter how I kicked and writhed and bit, hands clamped around me, over my mouth. These men weren't physically sick, but inside they rotted with depersonalization. To them I was a thing, lit with bright blue hair to catch their attention—which was one of the reasons I'd shorn it off in the first place, though the thick stuff had grown out again.
My struggles only served to fulfill their sick thirst for power. My blood and bruises fed their greedy eyes. I felt my consciousness drawing away, my eyes desperate to slide closed and let my mind go so I didn't have to be aware of what was about to happen.
"Fuckin' hell! Hi-yaa!"
These yells from beyond the ring grounded me. Yelps of pain that weren't mine echoed in my ears. Hands loosened on my torn clothes and aching limbs, enough that I could start to twist and fight again. I caught a glimpse of whirling red, bold and bright against the men's brown clothes and grey and brown dirty skin. A foot lashed through the press of bodies. I was flung backward and got to fully behold Reno fighting.
He couldn't have been more than half as big as any of those men, but with his nightstick-taser in left hand and fierce high kicks he cut a swath through them. His face twisted in fiercely concentrated anger, lips curled back, eyes bright and wide. He punched and whirled and whacked and spun. I managed to jam my elbows back into the gut of the man holding me in a bearhug. He wheezed and held tight. Reno just kept coming at them, ducking meaty punches thrown his way. Next to his speed, their fists moved iceberg-slow.
I kicked back, hit soft tissue and gained purchase. Hugger's grasp loosened. I writhed, twisted, dropped and rolled out of the way. I spotted a break in the legs, got to my knees and pushed off from the ground into a fast, crouched run.
"Reno!" I yelled over my shoulder. I glanced back to make sure he'd heard me and ran smack into someone sturdy. I was grabbed as I spun to face my obstacle, struggling.
"Rude!" I said in relief, looking up at the bald Turk's face. "Reno's…" I twisted to point, but as I did I saw the fight was over. Whoever was left standing had fled. Reno stood over his groaning less-mobile victims, panting, glaring down at them. His hard eyes flicked up to mine and I reeled from the force of the remaining anger. He jumped over one of them and strode toward me and Rude.
"Let's go," he said tightly, grabbing my arm. I let him hurry me out of the alley, too stunned and grateful to speak. He didn't say anything else as we hurried across the cobbled town square and through a door beneath a hanging wooden 'Inn' sign.
Reno hustled me upstairs, Rude tramping after us. Reno dug a key out of his pocket with his other hand and unlocked the first door off the landing. My bag sat on the duvet.
He released me. I turned to face him. His eyes had cleared of the rage, and left behind was clear apprehension.
"Does that happen a lot?" he said tensely.
"Lately, yes," I said.
"Why?" he said.
I swallowed. "Most people walk around with unfulfilled hungers. When they're given something, it reminds them of want, of need, and fills them with the sense that they can get something from the giver. The price of being generous is having more demanded of one than one is prepared to give, or capable of giving. The more I appear to offer, the more I seem capable of giving, the more is asked of me."
Reno put his head in his hand, tweezing the bridge of his nose. He sighed softly through his nose and looked up again. "You need to learn self-defense. Right now. Rude, here's your key." He dug in his pocket as he spoke and tossed a second key over his shoulder. Rude expertly caught it. "I'll see you later, partner. Class is in session."
Rude silently withdrew.
"Thank you," I said quietly. I felt more than a little ashamed at being unable to defend myself.
"No wonder you're paranoid," said Reno, his voice softening slightly. He stepped forward, took my arms in his hands, and pulled me bodily into the first defensive stance.
Reno—Kalm
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. I could hear Schala's slow, peaceful breath of sleep. The town outside grumbled in its restlessness. They knew we were inside, which is why I was sleeping on the second bed in her room. I nearly wished Rude was there too, until I came to my senses and remembered he snores like an internal combustion engine.
Anger had gone back to sleep, but I remained awake. I knew why. I'd been in teacher-mode when I showed her basic fighting moves earlier, distracted by purpose. Now, in reflection, I remembered details of the feel of her body against mine that I'd overlooked at the time as unimportant to the task at hand.
My body wanted hers to be the task at hand. It had been a full rich day in the life of me and normally I would be off in dreamyland myself. But something else was awake and prowling in my gut: lust.
It sickened me, though. I could clearly recall the sneers on those piggy faces surrounding her when I found her in the alley. While I like to think my lust isn't akin to their abusive power-lust, I know it comes from a similar place. I don't like men like that. I don't like what they do to women like her.
Men like my dad. Women like my mother.
I rolled over and silently punched the pillow, conjuring his face again. No matter how many punches I land, the most important one can never come, because the fucker is dead. And not at my hands.
My breathing slowed again, and in the darkness fear flowed in. Don't give me your legacy of weakness, asshole, I thought, throttling that ugly lust. I am in control!