Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Ashen Skies ❯ Chapter 3

“Ashen Skies”

Chapter 3

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*Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and all related characters belong to Square-Enix. This fiction piece is strictly a non-profit exercise of creativity and entertainment for people (like me) who can't get enough of this world and the characters.*

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Wutai was still whole. It had come as a surprise to everyone in the small party as they touched down outside the abandoned village. The paths were overgrown and lotus blossoms grew wild amongst the weeds, but not a single structure was damaged. Tseng watched over Yuffie as she knelt before her father's shrine and pulled weeds away from the base of it, while speaking softly to Godo's spirit.

 

“Well, you got your way, Old Goat,” she was saying with sad fondness. “I did what you wanted and married the stick-in-the-mud. I'm sure you're laughing it up right now and enjoying how miserable I am.”

 

Tseng sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache coming on. Godo had arranged the marriage between he and Yuffie, choosing Tseng for the purity of his bloodlines, despite his career choice as a Turk. Tseng was still loyal enough to his people to comply with Godo's wishes, but Yuffie fought against it tooth and nail until the day her father's heart gave out on him…one week before the evacuation took place. The Wutaian people and culture would survive, even if their homeland didn't. Whether Tseng would survive being married to Yuffie was still up for debate.

 

They hadn't even consummated their marital bond yet…Tseng wasn't sure that he even wanted to. As pretty as the ninja girl was, he wasn't sure he could survive coupling with her. If her shouting didn't burst his eardrums, he knee might crush his balls. The one time he'd attempted to initiate intimacy with her, he ended up with sore groin for days. She swore she didn't mean to knee him but he suspected differently. Yuffie conceded to her father's last wish for her out of guilt but so far, it was a marriage in name only. The creation of heirs was unlikely to ever happen before the two of them killed each other.

 

“Yuffie, we can't stay for long,” Tseng reminded as gently as he could manage. “Wutai is too open and if any WEAPONS come within range and have reason to suspect there's human life here…” He let the sentence finish itself. So far, it looked like their city had been left alone, but that was because it was uninhabited. The WEAPONS generally left towns alone if they saw no evidence of habitation. Their goal was to destroy humans and the buildings just happened to be in the way.

 

Yuffie ignored him. She remained kneeling and she stared at her father's shrine. “Should have let me cremate you,” she complained. “Do you have any idea what a pain in the ass it is for me to come and see you, Old Goat?”

 

Tseng compressed his lips with irritation. He'd sworn to Godo that he'd look after Yuffie, even if it meant being “sexist” and asserting himself as her husband. Not that it would do him any good to throw Wutai cultural expectations of a wife in her face…she'd just laugh at him and remind him they were no longer living in Wutai.

 

“Yuffie, I must insist,” Tseng persisted as courteously as he could. “You've paid your respects and your father wouldn't want you to remain here, in danger.”

 

“In a minute,” she said stubbornly, not even looking over her slender shoulder. Her hair had grown out and it fell below her shoulders, now. She had it tied back into a ponytail and loose strands kept falling in her eyes. She brushed the rebellious locks aside with a huff of frustration and complained to her father about the royal advisors that had pressured her into growing it out.

 

One of Tseng's underlings approached him and murmured softly to him. “Sir, we've gotten word from Reno in Cosmo Canyon. They suffered losses in a rescue attempt. Cissnei and Hollander were amongst them.”

 

Tseng frowned severely and lifted his shades. “Tell the pilot to start the chopper. We're leaving.”

 

The other man nodded and started off, while Tseng approached his bride and tried once more. “There have been casualties,” he said firmly. “It's time to return to base and pay respects to our other fallen comrades, Yuffie.”

 

She twisted on her feet and looked up at him with furrowed brows. “Who did we lose?”

 

“Cissnei, Hollander and whomever was with them at the time,” answered Tseng in a level voice. He offered his hand to her, saying no more.

 

Yuffie's big brown eyes welled up and she sniffed and took his hand, allowing him to help her up. Relieved that she was cooperating now, Tseng escorted his wife down the paths leading out of the village. The gigantic Da-Chao statues in the distance seemed to watch the small party with sad, empty eyes as they made their way out of the village that some of them used to call home.

 

“I liked Cissnei,” Yuffie protested quietly as they passed through the archway entrance. “Hollander might have had it coming, but why her?”

 

“I wish I had an answer for you,” Tseng responded grimly. Cissnei would be greatly missed by many. Her warm, compassionate nature was unusual for a Turk but it never had a negative impact on her ability to do her job. She was a good Turk and an even better person.

 

The waiting helicopter was in sight when Tseng caught sight of something on the ocean's horizon while admiring the sunset. There was something dark, bulbous and huge rising out of the water. He hoped it was just a large whale but he doubted it. He began to usher Yuffie along faster, breaking into a jog with her. His sudden urgency alerted her that something was wrong and she abruptly halted.

 

“What's the rush?”

 

Tseng looked out over the water again, where the orange-yellow skyline met the ocean's horizon. “We're out of time,” he answered.

 

Yuffie turned and followed his gaze just as a mass of gargantuan tentacles broke the surface of the water. It definitely wasn't a natural sea creature. A body appeared next and they could see that the creature was humanoid from the waist up, save for the fact that it had four arms instead of two. The WEAPON was some sort of hybrid between human and octopus in form and it had no facial features whatsoever, except for the large amber eyes that scanned the beach.

 

Yuffie stared at the creature as it began to swim toward Wutai and her expression was strangely calm and determined. She ignored Tseng's urgings and studied the onyx colored monstrosity.

 

“I…hate…you,” Yuffie said slowly to the creature.

 

“It can't hear you,” Tseng reminded urgently, “and I doubt it would understand even if it could. Come, Yuffie…we must leave before it closes in and spots us.”

 

The young woman didn't move. Her small hands clenched into fists at her sides and she continued to glare at the distant menace. “I HATE you,” she said again, louder this time. She seemed to snap after that and she bent over and picked up a nearby rock, chucking it toward the ocean and screaming. “HATE YOU! HATE YOU!”

 

“Yuffie!” Tseng hollered, trying to get through to her without laying hands on her. He'd learned long ago to respect her combat skills and though she was small and dressed in traditional Wutai robes, he knew she could put the hurt to him and restraining her would be nearly impossible, despite his greater strength.

 

Yuffie reached down and removed the large, deadly Shuriken secured to the belt around her waist. She braced herself and snarled at the WEAPON. “Come on you ugly squid! I'll show you what a ninja can do!” She waved the pointed weapon aggressively and bent down to pick up another rock with her free hand. She began lobbing loose stones wildly into the distance and screaming at the top of her lungs.

 

“Sir, we have to leave!” Shouted one of the lower rank Turks nervously.

 

Tseng agreed. Fortunately, his volatile wife was now hysterical and with any luck, she wouldn't have the wits to coordinate an attack on him. Taking a deep breath, the Turk Director lunged at Yuffie from behind and caught her around the waist. She shrieked at him, not truly seeing him at all as she struggled against his hold on her. In her surprise, she dropped her Shuriken and one of the other Turks hastily retrieved it from the ground. Tseng threw her slight weight over his shoulder and winced stoically as her fists beat against his back. He carried her quickly to the chopper and shouted for the pilot to take off as soon as he was inside with her.

 

All of Yuffie's strength bled out of her as Tseng seated himself and adjusted his hold on her so that she was in his lap. She was crying raggedly into his long, raven hair and pulling at his blazer with blind frustration. “I hate them,” she sobbed, “I hate them.”

 

Tseng appreciated her feelings but he could think of nothing to say in response. One of his men helped him secure himself into a seatbelt and when he gave the weeping ninja a questioning look, Tseng shook his head. Maybe Yuffie despised him but he had a feeling that if anyone tried to remove her from his lap, she'd kick their head off or claw their eyes out. He could hold her until there was an immediate need to strap her into a seat.

 

The hatch slammed shut as the last man entered the cabin and the chopper began to life off. Tseng looked out the window with the other passengers and watched as Wutai and the approaching creature dwindled in size. The WEAPON reached land and Tseng tensed, absently stroking Yuffie's hair as he waited to see if the creature would attack the village.

 

“Is it attacking?” Yuffie asked in a small voice. Her breath tickled his ear and he found it…distracting.

 

Tseng's tension began to fade as he watched the WEAPON examine the village curiously for a few moments before losing interest and heading back out to sea. “No, it's leaving now. I suspect it's just out scouting for prey.”

 

~Which would have been us, if you'd have kept us there any longer. Insufferable little brat.~

 

She was his insufferable little brat, though. Tseng was utterly stunned by the unexpected rush of relief he felt, simply because Yuffie was safe. Dislike it though he might, she had grown on him.

 

~**********************************~

 

Cosmo Canyon, early the next morning:

 

Tifa woke up stiff and sore. They'd healed the worst of her injuries with a Cure materia but she declined further care for her bruises, thinking it would be a waste of magic. She'd gone through her orientation the night before after regaining consciousness and much like Cloud, she'd been assigned a private bunk, a chest for her belongings and some new clothing. Unbeknownst to her, the personal sleeping niches in Cosmo Canyon were a little roomier than the ones in Modeoheim.

 

She hadn't slept well despite the assurances that her friend was safe, somewhere far to the north. Her village was destroyed and her parents were dead, along with most of her friends. She'd spent most of the night crying softly into her pillow and she could hear other survivors weeping in the dark, as well. What little sleep she'd gotten was plagued with nightmares and she finally gave up just before sunrise and decided to get more familiar with her new “home” and the people in it.

 

She was a little consoled to discover that the town baker, his wife and their children were amongst the survivors from Nibelheim. Other townsfolk that she knew casually were there as well. Some had been separated from their loved ones during the evacuation and others, like her, had lost family in the attack. It was hard, but she got out of bed with her mind made up to move on as best she could. The clothes she'd been wearing when they got her were being washed but thankfully, they had provided her with a t-shirt and a pair of jeans to change into. The only problem was, there weren't any bras available in her size. The tailor took her measurements but she said it would be a couple of days to make a few bras for her.

 

“You're blessed, girl,” the older woman had said with a light-hearted smile.

 

“More like cursed,” Tifa had grumbled in response.

 

No matter…she hadn't relinquished her old bra to be washed and though she hated to wear dirty undergarments, she wasn't about to go without support in this strange place…not after some of the looks she'd seen men give her. She made sure that her curtain was closed all the way before changing into her new clothes and she replaced her nightgown in the chest against the wall before pulling the curtains aside and stepping out. Not many people were awake yet. There were a couple of children on the other side of the room, yawning and stretching while their parents organized their bunks.

 

Tifa supposed the first order of business after breakfast was making up her mind on what volunteer work she wanted to do. She wasn't bad with a needle but she was no tailor. She didn't know enough about farming to be much use with the livestock and she doubted her martial arts skills would be of any use against WEAPON attacks. She had no carpentry skills and she sucked at taking care of plants. That left her with just cooking and cleaning to offer. She groaned, wishing unreasonably that they had a bar she could tend. They had alcohol supplies that were regulated but no formal tavern.

 

There was no help for it and she wasn't about to sit back and do nothing when the rest of the community pitched in. She went to the cafeteria and found that one of the cooks was already up and getting ready to make some breakfast. She offered her assistance and the man gladly accepted. Evidently, not many people were willing to get up early enough to make breakfast for large groups of people and he often got stuck doing it alone.

 

After helping cook and serve breakfast, Tifa sat down to eat herself and she was partway through her meal of scrambled chocobo eggs on toast when someone sat down across from her. She raised her eyes from her plate and looked up to see a man with vivid red, spiked hair, blue-green eyes and fair skin watching her with his elbows propped casually on the table. His hair was quite long in the back and it was tied to the nape of his neck in a ponytail. He had peculiar red markings slashing over each cheekbone, resembling horizontal crescents or claw marks. A pair of shades rested on his forehead, though why he needed them in an underground shelter was beyond her. She thought he was damned good-looking but there was something about the sly way he was watching her that troubled her.

 

“Er…good morning.” Tifa kept her tone polite, though the intimate way he was leaning forward on his elbows made her want to scoot her chair back. “I'm not at your table, am I?”

 

He shook his head and winked at her.

 

“O..kay.” Tifa said, half beneath her breath. What was this guy's problem? She cleared her throat and cut the last bit of toast in half. “Can I help you?”

 

He shrugged. “If ya really want to, yo. Lost a friend of mine last night and I figured a pretty face might cheer me up a little.”

 

His eyes roved over her boldly and it made her feel naked and exposed. Her face heated and she struggled to keep her discomfort from being obvious. “I'm sorry about your friend,” she told him in a level voice. “Um…thanks?” The last was said in response to his comment about a pretty face.

 

She could smell it now…there was alcohol on his breath—whiskey, to be exact. His eyes were red-rimmed and he had a faint growth of auburn stubble on his jaw. She took in little details about his appearance, such as the rumpled white shirt, the tea colored stain on the collar and the bloodshot eyes. He probably hadn't slept at all for twenty-four hours or more. She supposed he was drunk but his eyes didn't waver the way intoxicated eyes typically did.

 

“So, you're name's Tifa, right?”

 

She blinked at him. “How did you know?”

 

“I was there when we rescued you,” he answered. “Heard the blond guy call you by name. What's your last name, Toots?”

 

“Lockheart,” she answered. “I really don't know you well enough for you to call me—“

 

“What'd ya do for a living, before the shit hit the fan?”

 

Off-balance from the bombardment of abrupt questions, she answered without thinking. “I was a barmaid.”

 

His lips curved into a slow, satisfied grin. “Barmaid, huh? Did ya do any…special dances?”

 

She regarded him warily, leaning away from him. “What sort of `special dances' do you mean, exactly?”

 

His tourmaline gaze slid over her slowly again, resting on her breasts for a moment before coming back to her eyes. “You know…sexy dances. I'll bet you could rake in a lot of cash—“

 

Tifa stood up abruptly, not bothering to hide her outrage. “No! What kind of…do you just make assumptions like that about people you don't even know?”

 

He shrugged. “I'm just honest, is all. I tell people what I think and I think you've got the body to pull in some extra cash. Don't get pissed, yo.”

 

“Well, it's too late,” she snapped. “I am pissed. I don't even know who you are and you're—“

 

“Name's Reno,” he interrupted, standing up and reaching a hand across the table in offering. “Reno of the Turks.” When Tifa didn't take his offered hand, he grabbed hers and shook it anyway.

 

“We're gonna give our coworker her final send off pretty soon,” he explained as he released her hand and checked his wristwatch. “You ought to come outside and get a little sunshine. It's good for ya.”

 

She was again confused. He wanted her to go outside and watch them…do what, exactly? “I don't understand what you're talking about.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “The friend of mine that died while we were evacuating your town,” he explained, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. “Us Turks are gonna give her a twenty gun salute…pay our respects the only way we can since we ain't got a body to bury or cremate.”

 

“And you want me to be there because it's my fault,” she guessed as she was flooded with guilt. No wonder he was being so creepy. He blamed her and the other townsfolk.

 

Reno frowned at her. “What, am I speaking another language or something? I just figured ya might want to get a little fresh air. Some people are afraid to go outside unless they know someone's out there to protect them, yo.”

 

“I can protect myself,” she said with confidence, “but I appreciate the offer. I'll think about it.”

 

He moved around the table and she took an unconscious step back as he leaned in close to her. “You do that,” he murmured in a low, suggestive purr. He smiled at her, winked and sauntered away.

 

Tifa stared after the redhead, feeling like she was stuck in some kind of strange dream. How could anyone make going outside sound…dirty? Yet Reno managed to turn a simple thing like fresh air into something sexual. She couldn't help but think he was purposely screwing with her. Informing her that he was going to be paying respects to a comrade that died while evacuating her town and then inviting her outside for some “fresh air and sunshine”?

 

~He also smells like the bottom of a whiskey bottle,~ she reminded herself. ~He's probably drunk and he's grieving. That combination can't be good for rational thought.~

 

Pity began to replace her discomfort and indignation. She didn't know Reno but she knew human beings and he was probably just hurting, unable to cope with his feelings. With a sigh, Tifa forced herself to sit down and finish the last few bites of her meal. Wasting food was out of the question these days, even if she'd lost her appetite.

 

~**************************************~

 

The village above ground was in ruins. Half the Cliffside was blasted open and Tifa peered up at it. She could vaguely make out evidence of previous habitation inside the gaping hole. The few buildings that were on the ground surrounding the plateau were little more than rubble and broken bits of wood. Tifa jumped a little when gunshot rang out and echoed off the cliffs. Cursing herself for being so skittish, she looked to the center of the ruined town where Reno and several of his fellow Turks stood around the remains of a bonfire.

 

Some of the participants didn't appear to be Turks at all. There was a young woman around Tifa's age with Wutaian features. She wore a garment of traditional make and she looked uncomfortable in it. Standing beside her was a somber man in a Turk uniform with long, straight black hair. A blond man wearing an expensive looking white and black suit stood opposite of the couple with a curvaceous blond woman at his side. Her dress seemed somewhat inappropriate for the occasion and surroundings. It was scarlet in color with a low-dipping neckline and a slit up the left side of the skirt that went all the way up to the thigh. She looked like she belonged at a cocktail party.

 

A tall, powerfully built bald Turk with light brown skin stood next to Reno, wearing a stylish pair of shades. Next to him stood a blond Turk woman with shoulder-length hair, who looked quite small in comparison. She was weeping softly but holding her ground as the man in the white suit said a few words. The Turks raised their pistols and fired into the air again. The blond girl staggered and the bald man put an arm around her supportively. Another female Turk on the blond's other side gave her a handkerchief and said something to her.

 

Tifa's eyes stung as the blond woman's obvious grief touched her and reminded her of her own losses. She sank down on a broken stairwell and put her face in her hands as the tears came despite her efforts to hold them back. Her hair fell forward and she combed it back with shaking fingers and tried to regain control of her emotions.

 

“Are you all right, Miss?”

 

Tifa wiped her eyes hastily and lifted her head, prepared to speak to the man who'd asked the question. Instead of a man, she found a large beast sitting before her. It looked like a cross between a lion and a canine, with orange fur, beads woven into its mane and a flame tipping its tail. Tifa tensed in alarm, wondering what she should do. So far, the beast didn't look aggressive. It regarded her with orange eyes that seemed far too intelligent for a common animal…but this creature was anything but common. She'd never seen anything like it before and she spared a glance around to see if anyone was nearby to help.

 

“Miss…can I do anything for you?”

 

Tifa's jaw dropped and she stared at the lion creature. She'd seen his lips move as the gentle, cultured voice spoke. “You…you just…spoke to me, didn't you?”

 

The lion nodded gravely. “Indeed. You appear to be distressed. Can I fetch something for you, perhaps?”

 

Tifa choked on a hysterical giggle. The talking canine/feline hybrid had just asked if he could fetch something for her. The irony was unreasonably funny and she realized how rude she was being when he tilted his head, making the beads in his mane clink together. “I'm sorry,” she said, sniffing. “I've never seen a…a…” At a loss to put a name to his species, she stammered.

 

“Just call me Nanaki,” he said. She could swear he was smiling at her. “It's less complicated, that way. Few humans know of my tribe.”

 

“Of course,” she sighed, relieved that he wasn't offended. “Are there many of you?”

 

He shook his great head. “I'm the last.”

 

Tifa felt horrible, all over again. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Think nothing of it. You appear to have suffered your own losses, if I may be so bold to assume.”

 

Tifa nodded. “Yes. Most of my friends, my family and my hometown are gone. I have one good friend left, but he's in another fort somewhere up north.”

 

“Ahh, Modeoheim.” Nanaki nodded. “I've heard. Try not to worry. If you like, you could join your friend there when we conduct monthly transport. We try our best to reunite families who get separated by circumstance or during combined effort evacuations, you see.”

 

Tifa was comforted by the news. She was about to thank Nanaki and ask more questions about his tribe, but the megaphone speakers set into the side of the cliff buzzed to life and a woman's voice spoke over it.

 

“Tifa Lockheart…paging citizen Tifa Lockheart. Please go to the communications area to receive a phone call.”

 

Tifa's first reaction was confusion, but then she realized who was probably calling her and she gasped and got up. “I'm sorry Nanaki,” she said in a rush, “but I've got to go.”

 

Evidently, he figured out that she was the one being paged. He inclined his head gracefully and smiled at her. “Certainly. Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lockheart.”

 

~*********************************~

 

“Tifa speaking.”

 

There was a faint crackle before the voice on the other end answered her. “Tifa? Can you hear me?”

 

“Cloud, thank…” She almost said “Gaia” but she changed her mind. “…goodness. Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I'm fine. I had a few bumps and bruises but they took care of it. How are you?”

 

“I'm okay,” she answered. “There are a few other survivors from Nibelheim here with me and you won't believe who I just met.” She went on to describe Nanaki to him.

 

“Um…are you sure someone didn't spike your orange juice this morning?” Cloud sounded concerned.

 

“Nobody spiked my drink,” she sighed. “If I had a way to take a picture of him and send it to you, I would. Do you think I'd make this up?”

 

He paused for a moment before answering. “No, I guess not. It wouldn't be like you at all. I believe you, Tifa. So, how are they treating you there?”

 

“Pretty good,” she answered. She thought about Reno and she grimaced. “I can't really complain.”

 

“You sound odd.” They'd known one another too long for Cloud to miss the undertone of discomfort in her voice. “Is someone bothering you?” His voice took on a protective edge that Tifa was familiar with. She thought if he were able to do so, Cloud would travel all the way to Cosmo Canyon and kick the ass of anyone he thought was treating her badly.

 

“No, it's fine,” she said hastily. “You know I can take care of myself anyway…at least when it comes to other people.”

 

“So someone is bothering you.” He didn't sound pleased.

 

“No,” Tifa lied, “nobody's bothering me. Everyone's been very helpful. So tell me, how are things in Modeoheim? What villagers ended up there with you?”

 

Cloud told her that the butcher and his family were there, along with a few other families and some people who had lost loved ones in the attack. He told her about Zack and the other Soldiers and she smiled, glad that he'd made at least one new friend. Then he told her about Sephiroth and her eyebrows raised.

 

“You've actually met your hero? Cloud, that must have been so thrilling for you! What is he like?”

 

“Um…he's…kind of indescribable,” answered Cloud slowly. “I've never met anyone like him before and I'm not just saying that because I admire him, either.”

 

Tifa smirked. She was beginning to suspect that her friend's previous hero worship was rapidly becoming a case of puppy love. It wasn't common for Cloud to get crushes but the one time she'd witnessed it before, he'd acted much like he was acting now while talking about Sephiroth.

 

“Did you get to tell him you wanted to be in SOLDIER?” She persisted.

 

“Yeah, we talked about that a little. I don't know if they're recruiting and he wouldn't say much about it when I asked, but I'd like a chance to try if they are.”

 

“I don't know why they wouldn't be, in a situation like this.” Tifa guessed there might be a lack of suitable recruits. SOLDIER wasn't a military branch for the average man, after all. She didn't even know if Cloud had what it took to qualify, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

 

They chatted for another five minutes and Tifa was shocked when he told her that the Soldiers at Modeoheim actually went out hunting for WEAPONS. She let Cloud know in no uncertain terms that she thought they were crazy and he chuckled and informed her that they'd already taken down three of them.

 

“And that's not all,” Cloud told her. “Zack told me that the Turks took down a couple of WEAPONS, too. I'm not sure how they did it without enhanced fighters but they pulled it off.”

 

“Then they're just as crazy as the Soldiers,” Tifa stated.

 

“Well, someone has to do something,” Cloud argued. “We can't just sit around waiting to be picked off.”

 

Knowing she couldn't win this argument with him, she sighed. “I just don't want to lose you too. Please, take care of yourself Cloud.”

 

“I will,” he promised. “Take care of yourself too, Tifa.”

 

~************************************~

 

After they finished honoring Cissnei's memory, the group dispersed and Adela took Elena back underground to get her a tranquilizer and put her to bed. Everyone else began to leave, until Reno and Rude were the only ones sitting by the old bonfire pit. The redhead sighed and leaned back on his hands, peering up at the blue sky through his shades.

 

“Ain't this a bitch,” Reno muttered.

 

Rude nodded, sitting cross-legged with his hands resting on his knees. Reno turned his head to look at the bigger man and he noticed the carefully neutral expression on his face. To the eye that didn't know any better, Rude was hardly affected by their loss. Reno knew better, though. Rude didn't express his emotions outwardly but Reno guessed he'd be making use of the gym soon, to take out his frustration. Maybe a change of subject was in order.

 

“So, that new girl Tifa…she's hot, isn't she?”

 

Rude grunted and shrugged.

 

“You don't think she's hot?” pressed the redhead.

 

“She's hot,” Rude agreed. “But you had your eye on her first.”

 

Reno grinned. Rude never bothered paying much attention to women who were already in a relationship or women he knew Reno was attracted to. They had a mutual pact never to get in each other's way or compete over women. “She's got a sexy little accent,” Reno went on. “Like the way she says `hello'. It sounds like `hallo'.”

 

Rude nodded in agreement. “Exotic,” he said. He glanced toward the caves leading into the plateau and down into the underground and he nodded meaningfully. Reno followed his gaze and spotted Tifa coming back out again.

 

“Speaking of Tits…I mean Tifa,” Reno corrected himself with a chuckle.

 

“If you like this girl, think of a better nickname than `Tits',” Rude advised in a murmur.

 

“Yeah, you're probably right.” Reno studied the girl and admired the way the late morning light shone on her long, silken hair. “The ladies don't like it much when you name `em after body parts, yo. So, what do ya think I should call her?”

 

“How about calling her by her name?” Rude suggested bluntly.

 

“That's kind of boring.” Reno watched the girl pick a wild flower growing in the rubble. Her hair really was silky looking. The breeze stirred it and the sunlight reflected off the thick mass beautifully. “I've got it,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Silk. Her nickname's Silk.”

 

Rude snorted.

 

“Yo, what's wrong with that?” Reno frowned.

 

“Cheesy.”

 

“Ya want me to call her `Cheesy'?” Reno reached for the flask in his blazer and began to unscrew it. “Talk about a bad nickname…she'd probably like `Tits' better.”

 

Rude grabbed the flask from Reno's hand before the redhead could finish unscrewing it. “You're drunk,” he stated. “Too drunk. It's making you slow-witted. Go have a shower and sleep it off, partner.”

 

“I don't need you babysitting me,” Reno grumbled, reaching for the precious item without his usual dexterity. “Come on, Baldy…give it back!”

 

“You've had enough, man.” Rude held the flask over his head and leaned away from the other Turk as Reno pawed at it like a kitten swatting at a shiny bauble.

 

Reno saw Tifa watching with a faintly amused, puzzled expression on her lovely face and he groaned. “Rude, you're making us both look like jackasses!”

 

“Then stop trying to—“

 

Rude's counter-argument was drowned out by the sound of sirens going off. The two men stopped wrestling for the flask and they froze. Tifa likewise stood still, looking around with confusion.

 

“Attention all residents,” Rufus Shinra's voice announced over the loudspeakers, “A WEAPON has been spotted heading this way from the west. Stay inside the secured compound. Those who are outside must return underground immediately. This is not a drill.”

 

~*************************************~

 

Cloud got started as soon as he got off the phone with Tifa. He went to the restricted section and asked to see someone in charge of defense. The guards asked him what it was about and he informed them that he wanted to offer his services in the military. He wasn't particularly surprised when they ushered him right in and directed him to Lazard's office in the back. Tifa was right; they were hurting for fighters and even if he couldn't join SOLDIER right away, he could probably get a lesser position with infantry. He was stopped outside of Lazard's office and patted down before being announced to the Director and allowed in.

 

Cloud stepped into the room and the screen was closed behind him. A man with shoulder-length blond hair looked up at him from behind a pair of oval-shaped glasses. He sat at a weathered desk and he set aside a small pile of documents he'd been reading. He stood up and offered his hand to the young man and Cloud stepped forward and reached over the desk to shake it.

 

“I'm Director Lazard,” offered the other blond. “If they haven't told you already, I'm responsible for organizing our military forces and approving new recruits.”

 

Cloud nodded, having already asked around and learned as much. “Cloud Strife,” he greeted. “I want to help.”

 

Lazard's mouth quirked. “You're direct and to the point. I think I like that. Have a seat, Mr. Strife.”

 

Cloud sat down and Lazard followed suit. The Director began to ask questions, writing down the answers on a clipboard as Cloud answered them. “What fighting skills do you possess?”

 

“Rifles, hand-to-hand and swords.” Cloud wanted to say something about how he'd gained these skills but he sensed he should keep his answers brief and basic. By the way Lazard nodded in satisfaction, he'd made the right call.

 

“Do you have any previous military experience?”

 

“Nothing formal, Sir. I took a basic training course when I was a teenager, back when ShinRa sent recruitment officers to town.” Again, Cloud remembered to provide only the necessary information.

 

“Any experience with satellite relay, rocket launchers, detonation devices or cannons?”

 

“Some with cannons,” answered Cloud. “And I've fired mock bazookas before.”

 

“Good, good.” Lazard nodded again and wrote it down. He adjusted his glasses and regarded Cloud with thoughtful, blue-gray eyes. “What about other skills? Do you have any that you think could be useful on the field?”

 

“Auto mechanics,” replied Cloud immediately. He assumed such skills would be useful if transport equipment broke down and his confidence increased when Lazard's eyebrows went up briefly.

 

“Finally,” the Director said, “someone besides Reeve.” He finished writing and signed his name. “Well Mr. Strife, I think we can prime you for recruitment. You'll have to prove some of these skills first, but your confidence and discipline indicate you won't have any trouble with that.” He called out to the men guarding the door and one of them poked their head in. “Page Lieutenant Fair. He's to analyze a potential new recruit's skills and report back to me.”

 

Cloud was a little surprised to find out that Zack would be the one testing him, but it was also a bit of a relief. He knew the Lieutenant would be reasonable with him when evaluating his skills and he relaxed a little.

 

~****************************************~

 

“Oh, man…this blows.”

 

Sephiroth looked sidelong at his companion as Zack ended the call on his satellite phone. “Care to tell me what precisely `blows', Zackary?”

 

Zack sighed and gave Sephiroth a look of dread. “I've gotta evaluate Cloud Strife to see if he's got the stuff to join our military.”

 

“And that's a problem?” Sephiroth arched an elegant brow inquisitively.

 

“It is if he doesn't have what it takes to make the cut,” Zack answered gloomily. “I like the guy. I don't want to be the asshole that shatters his dream.”

 

Sephiroth could relate. Though he wouldn't say it out loud, he wouldn't be particularly eager to tell the blond that he failed to make recruitment requirements, either. Strife was…endearing. He wasn't an outgoing person but he possessed a strength of will and determination that was admirable and he clearly wanted to do his part to ensure the survival of humankind.

 

“Hey Seph, would you do me a favor?”

 

Sephiroth groaned inwardly. ~Here it comes.~

 

“Zackary, I'm not going to take your place evaluating Mr. Strife. You were chosen to handle basic training and recruitment because you're good at it and you bring out the best effort in people. Asking me to take on this duty would only ensure Strife's failure.”

 

“Whoa, slow down there, Speedy,” Zack chuckled. “I'm not asking you to take my place. All I'm asking you to do is watch.”

 

Sephiroth stared at him. “You want me to watch.”

 

Zack nodded. “Yup. I'll do my job and run him through some tests but like I said, I like the guy and I don't know if I can be impartial enough to make a solid judgment call. I was thinking if you're there to watch, I can tell you what I think afterwards and you can tell me if you think I'm making the right call.”

 

Sephiroth hesitated. As curious as he was to see what the exotic blond could do with a…sword…he wasn't so certain he could be impartial either. Strife had an interesting affect on him. At times, he almost felt like smiling at the blond…almost.

 

“Come on, man. Help me out here,” Zack pleaded. “I'm kind of compromised on this one and I need a level head to keep mine on straight.”

 

Sephiroth snorted. “Your judgment is always somewhat `compromised', Zackary, but if you're that concerned, I'll observe and give you my opinion afterwards.”

 

Zack's face lit up and Sephiroth half expected him to turn around in a circle and yip with excitement. Damn Angeal and his puppy comparisons. “Thanks, Seph! I owe you one!”

 

Sephiroth sighed again.

 

~*************************************~

 

“So, you want to be in SOLDIER?” Zack smiled over his shoulder at Cloud as the blond followed him into the weapons storage room. First, he retrieved a rifle and a bulls-eye from the firearms rack against the left wall. He got a case of rubber-tipped practice ammo from the crate and slipped it into a pocket before studying the swords. He selected one of the sheathed broadswords resting in the rack, purposely choosing a thick, bulky one. “It's not going to be an easy road, but if you hang in there you might just make it.” He tossed the weapon to the blond and watched, not really expecting much.

 

Cloud caught the weapon and he held it with surprising ease. His blue eyes were level and determined on Zack and a little smile curved his lips when the Lieutenant failed to control his expression of impressed surprise. “Like I said,” Cloud informed him softly, “I've got a little experience.”

 

Zack's grin took to his ears. “Well all right! Here, let me get you a lighter sword. I was just testing your reflexes wi—“

 

“This one is fine.”

 

Zack stopped and looked over his shoulder at the blond again with a frown. “That's a pretty heavy sword, Cloud. Are you sure you want to use it for your evaluation? You could get tired quick.”

 

Cloud drew the blade from its sheath and tested it, cutting the air with a couple of swipes and twirling it once before replacing it in the sheath. He nodded while Zack ogled him. “Swords of this size are kind of normal, where I grew up.”

 

Zack remembered to shut his mouth as Cloud's eyes met his again.

 

~Holy…okay, maybe I don't need Seph supervising after all. If this guy can use a sword like that when it really counts it's kind of impossible for me to give a loaded evaluation.~

 

He felt briefly ashamed for assuming Cloud couldn't handle a blade like that. As a “country boy” himself, he should have known that remote locations and nothing to do could make for some serious fighting skills.

 

Zack cleared his throat and closed the distance between them. He grinned at the blond and patted him on the shoulder. “Color me impressed, Cloudy. Let's see how you do in a duel.”

 

“'Cloudy'?” Repeated the blond with furrowed brows.

 

Zack chuckled. “Sorry, force of habit. I like to give nicknames for some reason. I'm not the worst one though.” He grimaced a little as he thought of the wild redhead in Cosmo Canyon. “You want to hear some crazy nicknames, wait until you meet Reno. So, are you ready to go?”

 

Cloud gave a nod. “I'm ready.”

 

~*******************************************~

 

Cloud was calm and focused…until he stepped outside into the ruins of Modeoheim and saw Sephiroth leaning against a column. He stopped in his tracks and his eyes fixated on the silver General.

 

“Um…Zack? I mean, Lieutenant, Sir?”

 

Zack paused after setting the rifle and target down and he turned to regard him. “It's okay, Cloud,” he soothed, misunderstanding the blond's sudden ambiguity, “We've got long-range scanners that will pick up signs of any approaching WEAPONS. It's safe to come outside.”

 

Cloud chewed his lip and approached the taller man. “It isn't that…it's…er…” His eyes flicked to Sephiroth again, who was watching them with seemingly bored disinterest. “What is the General doing here?”

 

Zack glanced at Sephiroth and then flashed a smile at Cloud. “It's cool. He's just here to watch.” He sobered a little and examined Cloud with an expression of dawning comprehension that made the blond want to run back inside. “Hey, I know he's been a role model for you but he's still just a man like the two of us, okay? Don't let it bother you. This is your chance to prove all that hero worship wasn't just hot air, all right?”

 

Cloud felt extremely self-conscious and he hoped he wasn't giving anything away. “Can't it just be the two of us?”

 

Zack's warm smile was genuine. “Cloud, I swear if you were a girl I'd be making a pass at you right now. You're kind of cute.”

 

Cloud started to stammer something but he forgot which language to use and when Zack only gave him an incomprehensive look, he cleared his throat. “I thought this was a serious exercise,” muttered the blond finally.

 

“It is,” agreed Zack. His smile sobered a little. “Sorry to make you uncomfortable, kiddo. I'm a flirt. I'm not into guys, if that's what you're worried about.”

 

“That isn't the problem,” Cloud mumbled, shooting another covert glance at Sephiroth.

 

Zack's playful mood evaporated and he squeezed Cloud's shoulder and looked into his eyes. “I know it's intimidating. I know how it feels to have to perform in front of someone you admire. Just remember this: when it comes down to business, you can't afford to get stage fright. You've got to focus on the goal and don't worry about who's watching or what they think of your actions, understand? Go with your instincts, Cloud.”

 

Cloud stared back at him and nodded slowly. “You're right. I'll do it.”

 

Zack smiled again and patted his arm before moving a few feet away and drawing his weapon. “Ready, Cloud?”

 

Cloud likewise drew his and he nodded. He trusted Zack to temper his strikes, so he wasn't overly alarmed when the black-haired Soldier came at him with a flurry of flashing metal. Much to his own surprise, Cloud found himself even more focused than usual. He'd immediately thought that Sephiroth's presence would cripple his ability to concentrate but if anything, he felt more determined than ever to prove himself to the General and his new friend.

 

Cloud narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the defense first, deflecting Zack's assault with grim determination before returning them in kind. He thought he saw Sephiroth nod from the corner of his eye but he didn't allow himself to feel too proud or smug.

 

“Great!” Zack enthused as his blade clashed against Cloud's and threw sparks.

 

The encouragement made Cloud smile a little. He knew it wasn't a game and he could tell that Zack was being serious about it, but somehow the one-eyed Soldier made it all seem fun. Cloud ducked under a swipe aimed toward his head, knowing instinctively that it wasn't serious but also aware that if he'd hesitated, Zack would have been forced to stop his momentum to avoid cutting his head off.

 

“Doing great, Cloud,” Zack encouraged with a grunt of exertion. “Keep it up!”

 

~************************************~

 

Sephiroth watched silently as Zack tested the potential recruit again and again. Cloud had passion, yet he didn't yell wildly when he attacked or deflected. As was his wont in social situations, Strife was uncommonly quiet in battle as well. The screech of metal against metal hardly bothered the General as he observed the duel and took note of each and every move, hop, swing and slash that Cloud Strife executed.

 

~Very good.~

 

When cloud twisted around, deflected one of Zack's hits and followed up with an overhand chop, Sephiroth upgraded his opinion.

 

~No…excellent.~

 

Unfortunately, Cloud began to tire. His stamina lasted longer than most average men wielding such a thick, heavy blade but it began to take a toll on him eventually and Sephiroth nodded with approval as Zack adjusted his attacks accordingly. The test was designed to push the limits of a man's fighting skills…not punish him. What was amazing—and perhaps a bit thrilling—to Sephiroth was the tireless determination Cloud demonstrated, even when his body clearly reached its capacity.

 

“Okay, that's enough,” Zack called, lowering his weapon.

 

Cloud was panting heavily, sweating despite the chill in the air. However, he shook his head. “I can do more,” he insisted.

 

“You sure can,” Zack agreed with a nod, “but not in the sword fighting. Let's check out your shooting skills, Cloudy.”

 

Sephiroth felt his lips quirk as Cloud gave Zack a blatantly annoyed look.

 

“Can't that wait…for later?” panted the blond, “I was…just getting warmed up.”

 

Sephiroth pinched his lips together, remembering a time when Zack himself had made the same complaint after being caught overdoing it.

 

“And you'll `just' pass out on me if I keep pushing you,” Zack chastised in a brotherly tone. He grinned and looked around for the rifle he'd propped up against a column. “We're finished with the melee tests. Time for you to show me how you shoot. I don't know about you but I'm getting hungry.”

 

Cloud sighed and nodded before unbuckling the straps crossing his chest and easing the sheath off of his back. He replaced the borrowed sword in its sheath before accepting the rifle from Zack. The black-haired Soldier handed Cloud a case of the practice bullets before jogging back to the bulls-eye he'd brought. He set it up a reasonable distance from Cloud and stepped back. Cloud loaded the firearm and made an impressive show of checking the barrel before nodding to Zack and taking aim at the target…without kneeling.

 

The sound of the shot bounced off the rocky terrain and another shot followed it…and another after that. Sephiroth felt his brows draw down as he looked at the target and saw three neat bullet holes peppering the center of the target. Zack looked from the target to Cloud and his mouth fell open.

 

~You have no poker face, Zackary.~

 

Sephiroth's culled his amusement and watched as Zack gave Cloud the thumbs-up and moved the target further away. Cloud sighed as if put-upon by the whole thing and he took aim again when Zack was satisfied with the distance and moved out of the way. The accuracy wasn't as good this time but it was still miles better than the aim of most of the professional infantry already assigned under them.

 

“Okay,” Zack said, evidently drawing the same conclusion as Sephiroth that they didn't need further tests, “That's good, Cloud. Let's go in and get cleaned up.”

 

Cloud nodded and his eyes sought out Sephiroth's for a moment. Sephiroth kept his features carefully blank, but those eyes…Jenova…those eyes were so enthralling. He forcibly looked into the tropical blue of Cloud's gaze until the blond lost his nerve and looked away. He saw Zack looking at him in an inquiring manner and he gave him a single, slow nod.

 

Cloud met his approval. He'd exceeded it, actually.

 

~*****************************************~

 

Cloud returned inside with Zack and handed over the borrowed weapons without complaint. The one-eyed Soldier gave him one of those friendly smiles he was beginning to associate with him and assured him that he'd done well.

 

“I can't remember the last time I saw someone kick that much ass on a recruitment level, Cloud,” Zack admitted. “Don't let it go to your head, but I think you even impressed Sephiroth.”

 

Cloud felt a smile burst forth before he could control it and he hastily looked away as Zack's blue-violet gaze roved over him. “So you think I have a chance?” He inquired softly. “You know, of joining SOLDIER, eventually?”

 

Zack paused and cast a look around him. He waited until passers-by were gone and then he spoke to Cloud in a low voice. “I think you've got more than what it takes to be in SOLDIER.”

 

Cloud's hopes lit up, only to be dashed a moment later.

 

“But,” Zack added, “it's not the same as it used to be. I shouldn't even be telling you this but the guy that infuses Soldiers with Mako can't be trusted, okay?” He smiled encouragingly. “Look, you've got skills most of us didn't even dream of when we were recruits. I'm not saying `never' but even if you can't be infused with Mako, you can still do a helluva lot of good taking care of these civilians. Do you think that's enough for now, Cloud?”

 

No, it wasn't enough. Cloud wanted to fight alongside Zack and Sephiroth. He wanted to take down the WEAPONS that were trying to annihilate human life. He wanted glory, he wanted to protect those he loved…at least, those who were still alive. Regardless, he understood that Zack didn't call the shots in Mako infusions and he couldn't fault him for what was beyond his control.

 

“It's enough,” agreed Cloud.

 

Zack looked ridiculously relieved. He smiled and patted him once more on the arm. “Thanks, buddy. I'll go and give my report now. Try to get some rest, okay?”

 

Cloud nodded and he thought that a shower and a nap sounded like a really good idea. Before he could even begin to act on his need for food, hygiene and drink, a young woman with a mass of beautiful, honey-colored hair came running towards he and Zack. She had a delicious looking tomato in her hands and she smiled at Zack as if he were the only person left in the world.

 

“Zack! They told me you'd be coming this way and I thought you might be hungry. Look, it's fresh.” She blushed and looked up at him with smitten green eyes. “I…picked the best one for you. I hope you like tomatoes.”

 

Cloud got the distinct impression that the girl could have offered him a dried turd and Zack would still be enthused. The one-eyed Soldier regarded the pretty girl as if she were a treasure and he might as well have had the words: “I love you” tattooed on his forehead.

 

“Aww, that's so sweet, honey!” Zack took the offered vegetable and clapped Cloud on the back. “Hey Cloud, I want you to meet Aerith. Aerith, this is my friend Cloud.”

 

The young woman looked at Cloud and blushed in a comely manner. “Oh! I'm so sorry…if I'd known you had a friend I would have picked another one…”

 

“It's okay,” Cloud soothed.

 

At the same time, Zack chuckled. “Hey, don't worry about it. I can cut it in half and share it with him, okay?”

 

Aerith seemed pacified by the suggestion and she gave Zack a sweet, loving smile. “I just don't want to be rude.”

 

“It's okay,” Cloud assured her. She reminded him a little of Tifa and he smiled faintly.

 

Aerith returned his smile. “Thank you, Mr. Cloud. I really would have brought you something from the garden too.”

 

“Please,” Cloud mumbled bashfully, “don't call me `mister'. Just `Cloud' is fine.”

 

She inclined her head. “O…okay. I'm sorry…I'm just not used to speaking with people.”

 

Cloud caught a glimpse of the protective expression on Zack's face and he guessed the kind Soldier's feelings for the girl ran deeper than friendship. “Don't worry about it,” he told her, “I'm not good with people, either.”

 

She brightened a little and Zack cut the tomato and offered half of it to Cloud. “Zack likes you,” she informed with childlike innocence.

 

Zack choked a little in the process of taking a bite of the fresh treat he'd been given and he looked at Cloud with a sidelong grin.

 

Covering his amusement, Cloud studied his half of the tomato. “What makes you say that?”

 

“Because he talked about you this morning,” answered Aerith calmly. “He was worried.”

 

Zack's eyes were bugging out at this point and Cloud looked from him to the girl in confusion. “Oh?”

 

“Hey Aerith,” Zack said abruptly, “Why don't you show me what you've been doing in the gardens?”

 

The young lady's attention switched immediately back to Zack and Cloud was given a different impression that his friend could offer the girl a severed head and have her mewling at his feet.

 

~They've both got a bad dose of it.~

 

When Zack and Aerith became distracted enough with one another to permit a getaway, Cloud took advantage and left the oblivious pair to their dealings. He started walking down the corridor towards the civilian living areas. He spotted a familiar couple on the way and he couldn't help but hear their conversation as he passed by.

 

“Someone has to have it,” Genesis murmured in a tight, angry voice, “You've seen how these idiots can be, Angeal! They take whatever lands at their feet and—“

 

“I think they'd chose something besides a play,” responded the bigger man. Despite his dry words, he was squeezing the arm of his redheaded companion consolingly. “We can find a new copy for you.”

 

Genesis stopped and glared at him as if gravely offended. “Excuse me…did I just hear you say new copy?”

 

Angeal looked decidedly uncomfortable, but he said nothing.

 

“Just where would you propose we find this `new' copy?” Genesis rattled on. “When I last looked, all of the libraries and bookstores were blown away!”

 

“So we'll search,” suggested Angeal. “We can surely find something…”

 

Cloud groaned loudly enough for a couple of fellow refugees to hear him. An old woman patted his back and asked if he was sick and he assured her, he was okay. There was no time to lose—Genesis had a temper and that had become apparent to Cloud upon first arriving. Cloud hurried back to his quarters and retrieved the “Loveless” book he'd found on the floor last night. He moved as fast as he could back down the corridor without running anyone over and he searched for Lieutenant Rhapsodos' book that he'd discovered the night before.

 

“Shit,” Cloud muttered. “Shit, shit shit!”

 

There was no time to debate himself after that. He had something that Lieutenant Genesis held in deep value. He would be lucky if he didn't die.

 

~********************************************~

 

-To be continued