Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Tenacity ❯ Mercenary ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Strange and Intoxicating rsa 
A secret hideout...
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Adventure / Action | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 02.23.2009 | Updated On: 02.23.2009 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.4K | Visits: 171 | Status: Work In Progress
A secret hideout...
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Adventure / Action | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 02.23.2009 | Updated On: 02.23.2009 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.4K | Visits: 171 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter Two- Mercenary
“Thank you for letting him sleep in your room,” Zack looked up from the mug clutched in his left hand, coffee swirling inside. An hour had passed since the incident, yet the two sitting at the table were still pondering what had happened.
Aeris took a sip of her tea, lips pursed, hair mussed. The blood had been washed off the table, the objects placed back in meticulous order, yet the two could still see the scene folding out, the blood dripping, a heart beating almost nonexistantly.
“Of course,” Aeris let her cup clunk against the wooden table. Her green eyes peered through her bangs into the man across from her. “You were gone. For five years. I thought you may have died.” Her arms crossed as she hugged herself. “I gave Tseng my letters, all eighty-nine of them, but it would be safe to imagine you received none?”
“I got one: your last. Reno had all of the others, but when he was saving me and Cloud the box of them fell out of the helicopter.” The flowers were bright against the pale wood and rugged fingers reached for the vase, placing it strategically between him and the woman. He busied his fingers, the soft petals smooth like glass between his fingers.
“Cloud?” she mused, lifting one hand from her shoulder, running fingers through her stray locks. “Cloud is his name, then?”
Zack nodded, “Yeah.”
Aeris reached out, pushing the glass vase out of the way. Both hands gently plucked the raven-haired man’s hands away from the flowers, laying them flat on the surface of the table. Her delicate fingers ran circles over his battle wounds. “Where were you all this time?” she asked, the question on her lips before she had time to fully think it through. Zack extracted his hands, placing them back on the mug, eyes glazing over.
“I don’t think I can talk about that yet, Aeris.” His voice was filled with bitterness, barely concealed rage. He stood, the legs of the chair sliding over the wooden floors. “I think I’m going to go upstairs, check on Cloud,” he said in a slightly forced tone. Aeris winced at the sound. He gave her a short smile that did not reach his eyes, an attempt to calm the girl and prevent her from following him.
“You should stay down here for now,” Zack pushed the chair in before he began to trek through the room. “Your mom will probably be home soon and she never really liked me anyway.”
His SOLDIER boots clunked on the ground, up the stairs and out of sight.
“What has happened to you?” Aeris asked, knowing that her question would only be left unanswered, floating through the air. She laid her head down against the smooth table and wept.
--
He looked so peaceful lying there, wrapped in the comforter, blonde hair clean and shiny like a racing chocobo’s soft feathers. The rhythmic sound of his heart soothed Zack; it didn’t sound as if it was about to stop any time soon.
Zack sat cross-legged on the floor near a pile of decorative pillows and stuffed animals, his violet eyes tracing the fine lines of blonde hair, the texture of white skin.
“See, kid,” Zack gave a fraction of a smile, “I told you I’d take good care of you. I didn’t break that promise at least.” The sleeping boy did not even stir. “Do you remember when you asked me, way back when, who my girlfriend was? Yeah, well, that was her. Her name’s Aeris and I can already see that she likes you.” The man pondered his next sentence for a moment, wording it correctly, “Well, I hope she doesn’t like you too much, Cloudy-boy.”
Blue mako eyes opened a little. “Zack?” the boy grumbled, his tongue running over his teeth.
Zack went to his knees, leaning closer to the boy, bending over the bed. “Hey! Morning, Cloud. Boy, you gave us a scare not too long ago. Thought I was going to piss myself, you know.”
The blonde lifted his hand to his eyes, rubbing the grogginess away. “Huh?” his voice cracked and he tried to lift his head from the softness of the pillow.
“Don’t rush yourself,” Zack gently pushed him back into the pink pillow, his fingers feeling the plush material of the shirt Aeris had clothed him in. “God, your’re going to kill me for letting her dress you in that. You’re pretty lucky, though. I thought she might’ve wanted to put your hair in pigtails after we bathed you.”
“Huh?” Cloud cocked his head a short distance, confusion evident in his clear eyes – the fog of mako poisoning was gone like the wisps of green. “Zack, what?” he mumbled, “Where are we? Why did you let me sleep in?”
Zack glanced at Cloud, bewildered. “What are you talking about, letting you sleep in? You crashed out on Aeris’ table. Don’t you remember anything?”
“No, I remember everything clearly. Mom’s going to kill me though; I told her we would both have breakfast with her last night. Aren’t you the one forgetting? I mean, wasn’t it you who told her you wanted a home cooked meal?”
Zack’s breath hitched. How in the world am I going to explain this? he thought, his fingers picking at a loose string on the blanket. Was it possible for him to utter the words of the past, of death and despair? Could the black-haired man possibly allow his lips to create the word ‘Sephiroth’?
“Uh, Cloud, we aren’t in Nibelheim.” Cloud’s eyes widened. “We haven’t been there for quite some time, actually.”
The blonde pushed himself up on his elbows. “What do you mean by that?” his voice came low, his breath stifled. “Where are we?” Blue eyes darted around the room, taking in the sight of flowers and feminine touches. “This isn’t any place I know of. Are we in Gongaga? Is this your room?”
Zack would have laughed if it hadn’t been such a touchy situation. His face curved into a small frown as he hoisted his body up, sitting on the mattress, which dipped down with his weight. “Cloud, you don’t remember anything about what’s been happening lately, do you? What was the last thing you remember?”
Do you remember the needles, the screams? How about your hometown burning to the ground, the fiery pits of hell, Sephiroth standing at the center of it all? Do you remember the cut on your stomach or of the gashes on your arms from the constant jabbing?
“We’d just gotten back to the inn from my house. Mom had made you stew and we’d both promised to come back later on, before she went to work, to eat some pancakes. You completely flattered her, you know. She said I had made good friends,” Cloud’s eyes narrowed at Zack, who groaned.
He didn’t remember the fire.
“It looks like someone killed your puppy, Zack. What’s wrong? And isn’t Aeris that girl you had a thing for back in Midgar? The one with the flowers?” Cloud looked around the room again. “Wait, why are we in Midgar? You said that I crashed out on Aeris’ table? How did that happen?”
Zack gently placed his hand on Cloud’s head, running his fingers through the blonde tresses. “Cloud... there was an accident, back at Nibelheim.”
The boy began to struggle, attempting to get out of bed. “Let go! I have to get home,” he pushed the black-haired man’s hand away, pulling the covers from his body. The cold air smacked into his skin. The boy shivered.
“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?” Zack asked, trying to sound calm and reassuring. “We’re in Midgar. Nibelheim is too far away. What’s left of it, anyway.”
“’What’s left’?” Cloud’s voice fled from his throat, his eyes growing as wide. “Wh-What do you mean, ‘What’s left’?” His body screeched to a halt, still.
“There was a fire, Cloud. About five years ago. You and I survived... I think we were the only ones. Your mother, she didn’t make it, Cloud. I’m so sorry to have to tell you.”
“What?” Cloud’s eyes filled with tears, his teeth biting into his bottom lip. “Mom’s gone? She’s dead?” The blue-eyed boy cried, grabbing onto Zack’s hand. His fingernails, long and sharp, grated into the black-haired man’s honey-colored skin, his eyes pleading. “Please, no. This can’t be right Zack, it can’t!” He screamed, his voice broken, “Please Zack, not her, not her. Just tell me you’re lying, please!”
The whimpering made Zack’s chest heave, the feeling of dread encompassing his entire being. His own parents were still alive, or at least he thought. He had no experience telling someone the woman they care for, or any loved one for that matter, had perished. Death was unnatural territory.
“Come here,” the man grabbed Cloud’s shaking shoulders, pulling him forward into his chest. The sobbing grew louder and Zack’s hand had gone numb from all the clutching. Cloud’s other hand wound itself into Zack’s SOLDIER uniform, twisting in the tear tracks, blood and grime smeared down the front. “I don’t know what to do, Cloud,” he whispered into the blonde’s hair, “I just don’t.”
--
“I’m going out,” Zack stated as he came down the stairs. The tear stains on his SOLDIER uniform were still cool against his skin.
“What are you going to do?” Aeris turned around from the sink, wiping her hands on the nearby towel, her eyes inquiring.
“I’m gonna get a job,” he said, running his hand through his uneven hair.
“You don’t have to. You can come sell flowers with me tomorrow,” Aeris pointed out, rubbing her hands together.
Zack snorted. “Aeris, I’m a SOLDIER. Or ex-SOLDIER considering the facts. Do you think that someone who has that much training is going to be selling flowers?”
Aeris shrugged her shoulders in defeat. “Well, it was worth a try. You make sure you come back before supper. I’ll go make acquaintance with Cloud in a little while.” The raven-haired man nodded, picking up the sword glistening near the door.
“I’ll be back soon. Try not to scare Cloud. He’s a bit shaken up at the moment.”
The woman nodded shortly, a small smile adorning her face. “Why, you make it sound almost as if I were you!” she laughed, her voice tinkling like church bells.
Zack shook his head back and forth as he left the wooden home, the flowers greeting him. He walked between the roses and lilies, down the beaten path towards the city, trying to remember the Sector with the best jobs. Six was out of the question – Zack wasn’t going to whore himself or sell drugs – and Sector Five only had a materia store, which wouldn’t suit his needs.
“What the hell, I’m a mercenary. Jack of all trades. There’s gotta be something here,” he mused. A sign tacked to a nearby aluminium house gave him the answer.
“‘Avalanche, protectors of the world against the corruption of Shinra!’? What type of moron would post something like that here?” the violet-eyed man laughed, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. In the corner of the [poster was a small drawing of a number seven, then an angel.
“Shit, this is too easy,” Zack pulled the sheet down, shoving it into his pocket.
--
The bar, Seventh Heaven, hadn’t changed in years. It was still in the heart of Sector Seven and the drunks laying out front, some with rather distorted black eyes, had only changed faces. It was the same as it had been six years prior, when the Seventh Heaven had first been established. The trash cans outside of the building had been knocked over and the scent of rotting meat met the ex-SOLDIER’s sensitive nose.
“Doesn’t smell any different,” was Zack’s first response to the bar. He walked up the rickety stairs, bullet holes marring the surface, the smell of booze becoming more apparent. A loud, booming voice greeted the man as he stepped into the bar, all eyes turning towards him, narrowed warily.
Zack walked calmly forward past a half a dozen or so men and women, sitting himself it the last stool. He had, once upon a time, carved his name into the rotting wood, and he smiled shortly when he noticed the chiselled word was still clear on the maple wood.
“What can I get you?” the woman, a brunette with long, flowing hair, asked as she cleaned the glasses. Zack admired her clean form, something of a rarity in the slums.
“I need to talk to the owner of this place,” he answered, “and a beer wouldn’t be too out of the question either.”
The woman nodded absently and reached her gloved fingers into a nearby crate. “That’s five gil,” she said automatically, popping the cap off. Zack’s fingers pulled out a five-gil note and tossed it onto the table. The bartender lifted the note up and suddenly seven guns were drawn, all pointed at the black-haired man.
“You don’t do this to all of your customers, do you? Or is it just the special ones?” Zack lifted the beer to his lips and took a sip. “Eh, not bad.”
“Why do you have Shinra gil?” the bartender asked, waving the five-gil note like it was a poisonous snake.
“Huh? Wait, there’s a difference?” the black-haired man’s voice asked, flabbergasted.
“Either you’re a tad dumb or sometin’s up.” A black man walked forward, a long gun attached to his arm. He popped the safety off. “You start talkin’, boy, or I’m gunna load you with lead.”
Zack coughed, reaching back into his pocket, pulling out the torn ‘Avalanche’ flier. “It said to come here. I thought a resistance group would know a little bit about mercenary work. That is what you’re doing, right? Hiring?” A woman lowered her gun but the other five didn’t move.
“How did you find us?” the woman asked, pushing her gun into the holder near the side. She walked forward, pushing past two of the men, moving closer to Zack. Her deft fingers grabbed the flier, looking at it as if it would tell her how he got there.
“I don’t know if old Billy told you when he sold the place but he wasn’t the one to name this bar. While drunk off our asses one night, Reno and I drew a bunch of doodles into the counter--” Zack traced over the small seven and the angel, carved next to his name, “--with a steak knife and old Billy just thought it was the coolest.”
“Wait, are you telling me you named this place?” the bartender asked.
“Yup, me and Reno.”
“Who’s Reno?”
Zack took another sip of his beer. “Eh, Turk.”
“You know Turks? You a spy?” the black man asked, pointing his weapon threateningly at Zack.
“I was a SOLDIER, First-Class. Now, well, I’m not too fond of Shinra anymore.”
The bartender’s wine-colored eyes widened, “What’s your name?”
A cocky smile spread across the SOLDIER’s face, “The name’s Zack Fair.”
“Put your guns down!” the bartender yelled to the people in the room.
“Tifa, ya sure? He just said he was a SOLDIER,” one of the men, very wide around the stomach, asked.
Tifa made a shooing motion, “He’s fine. Just go back to eating, Wedge.” She pushed her hand through her long mane of hair, leaning forward. The rest of the guns were pushed under clothes or placed on tables. The only one who didn’t lower his weapon was the black man, who merely put the safety lock on.
“Tifa? As in the little Nibelheim girl with the cow-boy hat? The tour guide?”
The woman winced, but nodded her head. “That would be me,” she said, tilting her head down a small bit in embarrassment. The last thing which she had said to him was, ‘I hate you.’
“Ah, forget it,” Zack waved his hand before him. “So, let’s talk about hiring me.”
“Why should we hire you? You a part of Shinra, a bloodsucker,” the black man grumbled, sitting down a few seats away. Tifa gave the man a reproachful look.
“Barret, I trust him. You should know that I don’t give out trust easily. Now, about hiring, we’re in need of another person. The next mission isn’t going to be too nice and we’re going to need as many men on hand as possible. I think we should hire him.”
Barret gave an appalled grunt.
“What would the job entail?” the violet-eyed man asked, glancing over at a clock, noting the time to be a quarter after five. Aeris would want him back before six.
“Well, we plan on doing our first true protest soon,” Tifa chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “A massive explosion of the Mako reactor in Sector One.”
Zack nodded his head, interested. “Blowing up a mako reactor? That wouldn’t be very helpful to the slum’s economy, you know.”
“Well, Shinra ain’t helpin’ the world with all the mako they’s suckin’ up either! They’s killin’ the planet! We can’ jus’ stand ‘round and wait for them to stop, cause it ain’t gunna happen. We gotta take charge now, ‘fore the planet loses the rest of its life!”
Several men nearby began to chant, ‘Avalanche,’ when their leader proclaimed this ‘moving’ speech.
The black-haired man coughed into his hand and took another swallow of his drink. “Well, I’m up for it, though I won’t be questioning your motives. I’ll be around some time tomorrow so we can talk details. I better get going now or I won’t be able to make it home in time.” He took a final swig of his drink before smacking it down to the table. He was half-way out of the room before he turned back around. “Hey, do you think you might need another person besides myself? I’ve got a friend who may just be up for the job.”
Tifa nodded her head once, going back to scrubbing at the wood. “The more the merrier!” she shouted through the rumblings of the nearby people.
Zack nodded once more before exiting the bar, tossing the flier down to the ground, stepping back down the stairs. No imagination was necessary to understand why hundreds of bullets were stuck inside the wood.
“Fucking terrorists,” Zack laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Thank you for letting him sleep in your room,” Zack looked up from the mug clutched in his left hand, coffee swirling inside. An hour had passed since the incident, yet the two sitting at the table were still pondering what had happened.
Aeris took a sip of her tea, lips pursed, hair mussed. The blood had been washed off the table, the objects placed back in meticulous order, yet the two could still see the scene folding out, the blood dripping, a heart beating almost nonexistantly.
“Of course,” Aeris let her cup clunk against the wooden table. Her green eyes peered through her bangs into the man across from her. “You were gone. For five years. I thought you may have died.” Her arms crossed as she hugged herself. “I gave Tseng my letters, all eighty-nine of them, but it would be safe to imagine you received none?”
“I got one: your last. Reno had all of the others, but when he was saving me and Cloud the box of them fell out of the helicopter.” The flowers were bright against the pale wood and rugged fingers reached for the vase, placing it strategically between him and the woman. He busied his fingers, the soft petals smooth like glass between his fingers.
“Cloud?” she mused, lifting one hand from her shoulder, running fingers through her stray locks. “Cloud is his name, then?”
Zack nodded, “Yeah.”
Aeris reached out, pushing the glass vase out of the way. Both hands gently plucked the raven-haired man’s hands away from the flowers, laying them flat on the surface of the table. Her delicate fingers ran circles over his battle wounds. “Where were you all this time?” she asked, the question on her lips before she had time to fully think it through. Zack extracted his hands, placing them back on the mug, eyes glazing over.
“I don’t think I can talk about that yet, Aeris.” His voice was filled with bitterness, barely concealed rage. He stood, the legs of the chair sliding over the wooden floors. “I think I’m going to go upstairs, check on Cloud,” he said in a slightly forced tone. Aeris winced at the sound. He gave her a short smile that did not reach his eyes, an attempt to calm the girl and prevent her from following him.
“You should stay down here for now,” Zack pushed the chair in before he began to trek through the room. “Your mom will probably be home soon and she never really liked me anyway.”
His SOLDIER boots clunked on the ground, up the stairs and out of sight.
“What has happened to you?” Aeris asked, knowing that her question would only be left unanswered, floating through the air. She laid her head down against the smooth table and wept.
--
He looked so peaceful lying there, wrapped in the comforter, blonde hair clean and shiny like a racing chocobo’s soft feathers. The rhythmic sound of his heart soothed Zack; it didn’t sound as if it was about to stop any time soon.
Zack sat cross-legged on the floor near a pile of decorative pillows and stuffed animals, his violet eyes tracing the fine lines of blonde hair, the texture of white skin.
“See, kid,” Zack gave a fraction of a smile, “I told you I’d take good care of you. I didn’t break that promise at least.” The sleeping boy did not even stir. “Do you remember when you asked me, way back when, who my girlfriend was? Yeah, well, that was her. Her name’s Aeris and I can already see that she likes you.” The man pondered his next sentence for a moment, wording it correctly, “Well, I hope she doesn’t like you too much, Cloudy-boy.”
Blue mako eyes opened a little. “Zack?” the boy grumbled, his tongue running over his teeth.
Zack went to his knees, leaning closer to the boy, bending over the bed. “Hey! Morning, Cloud. Boy, you gave us a scare not too long ago. Thought I was going to piss myself, you know.”
The blonde lifted his hand to his eyes, rubbing the grogginess away. “Huh?” his voice cracked and he tried to lift his head from the softness of the pillow.
“Don’t rush yourself,” Zack gently pushed him back into the pink pillow, his fingers feeling the plush material of the shirt Aeris had clothed him in. “God, your’re going to kill me for letting her dress you in that. You’re pretty lucky, though. I thought she might’ve wanted to put your hair in pigtails after we bathed you.”
“Huh?” Cloud cocked his head a short distance, confusion evident in his clear eyes – the fog of mako poisoning was gone like the wisps of green. “Zack, what?” he mumbled, “Where are we? Why did you let me sleep in?”
Zack glanced at Cloud, bewildered. “What are you talking about, letting you sleep in? You crashed out on Aeris’ table. Don’t you remember anything?”
“No, I remember everything clearly. Mom’s going to kill me though; I told her we would both have breakfast with her last night. Aren’t you the one forgetting? I mean, wasn’t it you who told her you wanted a home cooked meal?”
Zack’s breath hitched. How in the world am I going to explain this? he thought, his fingers picking at a loose string on the blanket. Was it possible for him to utter the words of the past, of death and despair? Could the black-haired man possibly allow his lips to create the word ‘Sephiroth’?
“Uh, Cloud, we aren’t in Nibelheim.” Cloud’s eyes widened. “We haven’t been there for quite some time, actually.”
The blonde pushed himself up on his elbows. “What do you mean by that?” his voice came low, his breath stifled. “Where are we?” Blue eyes darted around the room, taking in the sight of flowers and feminine touches. “This isn’t any place I know of. Are we in Gongaga? Is this your room?”
Zack would have laughed if it hadn’t been such a touchy situation. His face curved into a small frown as he hoisted his body up, sitting on the mattress, which dipped down with his weight. “Cloud, you don’t remember anything about what’s been happening lately, do you? What was the last thing you remember?”
Do you remember the needles, the screams? How about your hometown burning to the ground, the fiery pits of hell, Sephiroth standing at the center of it all? Do you remember the cut on your stomach or of the gashes on your arms from the constant jabbing?
“We’d just gotten back to the inn from my house. Mom had made you stew and we’d both promised to come back later on, before she went to work, to eat some pancakes. You completely flattered her, you know. She said I had made good friends,” Cloud’s eyes narrowed at Zack, who groaned.
He didn’t remember the fire.
“It looks like someone killed your puppy, Zack. What’s wrong? And isn’t Aeris that girl you had a thing for back in Midgar? The one with the flowers?” Cloud looked around the room again. “Wait, why are we in Midgar? You said that I crashed out on Aeris’ table? How did that happen?”
Zack gently placed his hand on Cloud’s head, running his fingers through the blonde tresses. “Cloud... there was an accident, back at Nibelheim.”
The boy began to struggle, attempting to get out of bed. “Let go! I have to get home,” he pushed the black-haired man’s hand away, pulling the covers from his body. The cold air smacked into his skin. The boy shivered.
“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?” Zack asked, trying to sound calm and reassuring. “We’re in Midgar. Nibelheim is too far away. What’s left of it, anyway.”
“’What’s left’?” Cloud’s voice fled from his throat, his eyes growing as wide. “Wh-What do you mean, ‘What’s left’?” His body screeched to a halt, still.
“There was a fire, Cloud. About five years ago. You and I survived... I think we were the only ones. Your mother, she didn’t make it, Cloud. I’m so sorry to have to tell you.”
“What?” Cloud’s eyes filled with tears, his teeth biting into his bottom lip. “Mom’s gone? She’s dead?” The blue-eyed boy cried, grabbing onto Zack’s hand. His fingernails, long and sharp, grated into the black-haired man’s honey-colored skin, his eyes pleading. “Please, no. This can’t be right Zack, it can’t!” He screamed, his voice broken, “Please Zack, not her, not her. Just tell me you’re lying, please!”
The whimpering made Zack’s chest heave, the feeling of dread encompassing his entire being. His own parents were still alive, or at least he thought. He had no experience telling someone the woman they care for, or any loved one for that matter, had perished. Death was unnatural territory.
“Come here,” the man grabbed Cloud’s shaking shoulders, pulling him forward into his chest. The sobbing grew louder and Zack’s hand had gone numb from all the clutching. Cloud’s other hand wound itself into Zack’s SOLDIER uniform, twisting in the tear tracks, blood and grime smeared down the front. “I don’t know what to do, Cloud,” he whispered into the blonde’s hair, “I just don’t.”
--
“I’m going out,” Zack stated as he came down the stairs. The tear stains on his SOLDIER uniform were still cool against his skin.
“What are you going to do?” Aeris turned around from the sink, wiping her hands on the nearby towel, her eyes inquiring.
“I’m gonna get a job,” he said, running his hand through his uneven hair.
“You don’t have to. You can come sell flowers with me tomorrow,” Aeris pointed out, rubbing her hands together.
Zack snorted. “Aeris, I’m a SOLDIER. Or ex-SOLDIER considering the facts. Do you think that someone who has that much training is going to be selling flowers?”
Aeris shrugged her shoulders in defeat. “Well, it was worth a try. You make sure you come back before supper. I’ll go make acquaintance with Cloud in a little while.” The raven-haired man nodded, picking up the sword glistening near the door.
“I’ll be back soon. Try not to scare Cloud. He’s a bit shaken up at the moment.”
The woman nodded shortly, a small smile adorning her face. “Why, you make it sound almost as if I were you!” she laughed, her voice tinkling like church bells.
Zack shook his head back and forth as he left the wooden home, the flowers greeting him. He walked between the roses and lilies, down the beaten path towards the city, trying to remember the Sector with the best jobs. Six was out of the question – Zack wasn’t going to whore himself or sell drugs – and Sector Five only had a materia store, which wouldn’t suit his needs.
“What the hell, I’m a mercenary. Jack of all trades. There’s gotta be something here,” he mused. A sign tacked to a nearby aluminium house gave him the answer.
“‘Avalanche, protectors of the world against the corruption of Shinra!’? What type of moron would post something like that here?” the violet-eyed man laughed, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. In the corner of the [poster was a small drawing of a number seven, then an angel.
“Shit, this is too easy,” Zack pulled the sheet down, shoving it into his pocket.
--
The bar, Seventh Heaven, hadn’t changed in years. It was still in the heart of Sector Seven and the drunks laying out front, some with rather distorted black eyes, had only changed faces. It was the same as it had been six years prior, when the Seventh Heaven had first been established. The trash cans outside of the building had been knocked over and the scent of rotting meat met the ex-SOLDIER’s sensitive nose.
“Doesn’t smell any different,” was Zack’s first response to the bar. He walked up the rickety stairs, bullet holes marring the surface, the smell of booze becoming more apparent. A loud, booming voice greeted the man as he stepped into the bar, all eyes turning towards him, narrowed warily.
Zack walked calmly forward past a half a dozen or so men and women, sitting himself it the last stool. He had, once upon a time, carved his name into the rotting wood, and he smiled shortly when he noticed the chiselled word was still clear on the maple wood.
“What can I get you?” the woman, a brunette with long, flowing hair, asked as she cleaned the glasses. Zack admired her clean form, something of a rarity in the slums.
“I need to talk to the owner of this place,” he answered, “and a beer wouldn’t be too out of the question either.”
The woman nodded absently and reached her gloved fingers into a nearby crate. “That’s five gil,” she said automatically, popping the cap off. Zack’s fingers pulled out a five-gil note and tossed it onto the table. The bartender lifted the note up and suddenly seven guns were drawn, all pointed at the black-haired man.
“You don’t do this to all of your customers, do you? Or is it just the special ones?” Zack lifted the beer to his lips and took a sip. “Eh, not bad.”
“Why do you have Shinra gil?” the bartender asked, waving the five-gil note like it was a poisonous snake.
“Huh? Wait, there’s a difference?” the black-haired man’s voice asked, flabbergasted.
“Either you’re a tad dumb or sometin’s up.” A black man walked forward, a long gun attached to his arm. He popped the safety off. “You start talkin’, boy, or I’m gunna load you with lead.”
Zack coughed, reaching back into his pocket, pulling out the torn ‘Avalanche’ flier. “It said to come here. I thought a resistance group would know a little bit about mercenary work. That is what you’re doing, right? Hiring?” A woman lowered her gun but the other five didn’t move.
“How did you find us?” the woman asked, pushing her gun into the holder near the side. She walked forward, pushing past two of the men, moving closer to Zack. Her deft fingers grabbed the flier, looking at it as if it would tell her how he got there.
“I don’t know if old Billy told you when he sold the place but he wasn’t the one to name this bar. While drunk off our asses one night, Reno and I drew a bunch of doodles into the counter--” Zack traced over the small seven and the angel, carved next to his name, “--with a steak knife and old Billy just thought it was the coolest.”
“Wait, are you telling me you named this place?” the bartender asked.
“Yup, me and Reno.”
“Who’s Reno?”
Zack took another sip of his beer. “Eh, Turk.”
“You know Turks? You a spy?” the black man asked, pointing his weapon threateningly at Zack.
“I was a SOLDIER, First-Class. Now, well, I’m not too fond of Shinra anymore.”
The bartender’s wine-colored eyes widened, “What’s your name?”
A cocky smile spread across the SOLDIER’s face, “The name’s Zack Fair.”
“Put your guns down!” the bartender yelled to the people in the room.
“Tifa, ya sure? He just said he was a SOLDIER,” one of the men, very wide around the stomach, asked.
Tifa made a shooing motion, “He’s fine. Just go back to eating, Wedge.” She pushed her hand through her long mane of hair, leaning forward. The rest of the guns were pushed under clothes or placed on tables. The only one who didn’t lower his weapon was the black man, who merely put the safety lock on.
“Tifa? As in the little Nibelheim girl with the cow-boy hat? The tour guide?”
The woman winced, but nodded her head. “That would be me,” she said, tilting her head down a small bit in embarrassment. The last thing which she had said to him was, ‘I hate you.’
“Ah, forget it,” Zack waved his hand before him. “So, let’s talk about hiring me.”
“Why should we hire you? You a part of Shinra, a bloodsucker,” the black man grumbled, sitting down a few seats away. Tifa gave the man a reproachful look.
“Barret, I trust him. You should know that I don’t give out trust easily. Now, about hiring, we’re in need of another person. The next mission isn’t going to be too nice and we’re going to need as many men on hand as possible. I think we should hire him.”
Barret gave an appalled grunt.
“What would the job entail?” the violet-eyed man asked, glancing over at a clock, noting the time to be a quarter after five. Aeris would want him back before six.
“Well, we plan on doing our first true protest soon,” Tifa chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “A massive explosion of the Mako reactor in Sector One.”
Zack nodded his head, interested. “Blowing up a mako reactor? That wouldn’t be very helpful to the slum’s economy, you know.”
“Well, Shinra ain’t helpin’ the world with all the mako they’s suckin’ up either! They’s killin’ the planet! We can’ jus’ stand ‘round and wait for them to stop, cause it ain’t gunna happen. We gotta take charge now, ‘fore the planet loses the rest of its life!”
Several men nearby began to chant, ‘Avalanche,’ when their leader proclaimed this ‘moving’ speech.
The black-haired man coughed into his hand and took another swallow of his drink. “Well, I’m up for it, though I won’t be questioning your motives. I’ll be around some time tomorrow so we can talk details. I better get going now or I won’t be able to make it home in time.” He took a final swig of his drink before smacking it down to the table. He was half-way out of the room before he turned back around. “Hey, do you think you might need another person besides myself? I’ve got a friend who may just be up for the job.”
Tifa nodded her head once, going back to scrubbing at the wood. “The more the merrier!” she shouted through the rumblings of the nearby people.
Zack nodded once more before exiting the bar, tossing the flier down to the ground, stepping back down the stairs. No imagination was necessary to understand why hundreds of bullets were stuck inside the wood.
“Fucking terrorists,” Zack laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets.