Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Those Chosen By The Planet ❯ Chapter 3 - "Memories of a Barmaid." ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter 3
"Memories of a Barmaid"

"I sure don't mind a change
But I fell on black days
How would I know
That this could be my fate?
Soundgarden, "Fell on Black Days"

Damned Turk... pain in the ass... can't get through to him at all..

He growled under his breath. Frustration.

Just can't understand... damned Turk. Damned heartless Turk...

People. Drunks. All in front of Tifa's bar. the Seventh Heaven had always been a popular spot for the rich and the poor alike. It was the scum that hung out after drinking that posed a problem. And Barret wasn't in the mood to play bouncer. He wasn't in the mood to deal with these... people. He just wanted them gone. They had important things to discuss. They had a mission. An important one.

The man readied his gun arm and pointed to the ground hear the drunkards feet. This should get rid of them. He opened fire.

The people scattered.

"Okay! Go on ahead!"

Reno passed the larger man, walking in back of his ragged pack of terrorist... rebels. "Showoff." He hated when people pulled that crap. Like it's really special that he has a gun for an arm? Kicking the dirt beneath his feet, Reno looked up to see Tifa welcoming her friends into the establishment, relieved that no one had been harmed in the mission. If the others were classified as good, Tifa was a saint. A saint with... well, issues. Issues and... other assets. Reno had always been somewhat familiar with the Seventh Heaven. It offered okay beer at low prices, and hell, the view wasn't too bad. The firm, round, view...

"And Reno. Mind looking at my face when you come greet me?"

Yes, the view was ecsquisite. He looked up, a devilish smile spreading across his face. "Tifa. My favorite pers--" He stopped in mid-word, realizing what, exactly, had been bothering him about his jacket -- a strange prickly feeling that could also explain why he was out five gil, plus tax. A devilish grin seeping across his face, he reached into his inner coat pocket and brandished a small bouquet of somewhat crushed red and pink roses. "Por vouz." Reno bowed extravegantly, handing the flowers to the woman before him.

"Save it, Reno." Tifa rolled her eyes, about to continue with a barrage of insults when a whirlwind capped with brown hair and under three feet tall burst into the room, racing toward the door.

"Papa!"

The Turk tried to hide the smile - the real, pleasant smile that threatened to boil over. Kalie'd always wanted kids. The little girl raced over to, of all people, Barret and jumped into his waiting arms. That was something... new. New and unexpected. Reno edged closer to Tifa, and whispered the waiting question, "Who's the podling?"

The woman stiffened, trying to stifle a laugh at Reno's crude terminology, "Marlene, why don't you introduce yourself to Reno? He's helping us out now."

The little girl buried her head into the crook of Barret's arm. "I don't like him. He's creepy."

This time the smile escaped, accompanied with a short laugh. "Smart kid. I like her."

Five minutes later, everyone was settled in to the bar, settling into... routine. Something Reno was obviously unfamiliar with. Tifa fixing drinks, Barret amusing his daughter, the others polishing off full-course meals. And Reno? He sat silently on a worn out old barstool, playing with a piece of paper.

A glass thunked down on the mahogany of the counter he rested against, promptly being filled by one of Midgar's finest lagers. "I wouldn't take it too seriously. Marlene's shy about everyone."

Reno snorted. "Who said I was offended? Nah... I dun mind." He continued folding over the paper, absently, in his hands. Tifa took a sip from the remaining portion of the bottle and leaned close to him.

"So how'd the mission go? You get along with Barret?"

Reno stifled a laugh, scoffing instead as he took a long swig from the bottle. "That's a loaded question if I've heard one, Lockheart."

"I figured as much. Barret doesn't get along so well with jackasses..."

Must hate 'imself...

Ackward silence wafted over their little corner, cut through by the soft voice of Tifa's. She stared silently at the flowers. "Thanks for the roses... Where'd you find them?"

"Alexandria street... after the explosion. Took pity on a gal in pink."

"I see..." Her face grew more serious as she attempted to corral every last bit of courage. "Er... just out of curiousity..."

Reno raised an eyebrow quizically. This sounded like the beginning of an interesting question. He waited, hoping it to be something amusing. Alas...

"Was there anyone from SOLDIER fighting you guys?"

"Whuzzah?" Reno shook his head. This was totally not the kind of question he was thinking she would ask. In fact, the question itself was out of the blue to say the least. What was Tifa thinking about that she wondered... that. Not to mention how incredibly ludicrous the idea of her little terrorist organization going up against a SOLDIER. Reno would survive... possibly Barret, but the rest? Hah!

"I hate to break it to ya, but if we had, your little group would at least be missing three."

"I see... and you're sure?"

Reno nodded absently, returning to the little piece of paper that was slowly folding, forming into a small, white crane. He placed it on the counter.

"Turks have to go through intensive training, on top of being trained as SOLDIERS. I'd recognize their fighting style anywh--"

"Talkin' 'bout yo grand ole Shinra again?" Barret made his way over, the sound of his heavy boots clomping on the aged wooden floor.

"You again?"

"Sometimes, the way you talk, you sound like you miss them."

"It paid well." Reno hopped off the stool and stood in front of the much larger man.

"Well, don't you forget that your skinny ass's workin' fo AVALANCHE now. If I find you've been double-crossin'"

Reno growled a feral sneer, his fingernails biting into the palm of his hand as he attempted, vainly, to restrain himself. When he spoke, his voice was harsh and rough from anger. "You asked me, I fucking answered. I am through with Shinra." He turned to walk past the man.

"Then why the suit? Why the attitude."

Reno stopped in mid-stride. Wallace had a point, but damned if he was going to give in that easily. Truthfully, Reno did have other clothes he could have worn, but... years as a Turk. The suit had become second nature. Anything else just didn't feel... right. Made him feel naked, unprepared. He shook his head, his eyes once again turning cold with fury as he dug through his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

"I'll be back in in a bit to talk about my money, and then I'm out of this shit-hole."

The door slammed behind him, leaving a very silent crowd within. Tifa looked down to the empty barstool, staring at the small, white origami crane. Thinking. Maybe... that was a bit much...

"Figures as much." Barret settled onto a chair, surprised when Tifa suddenly disappeared from his sight. The front door once again opened, then shut.

Reno leant against the porch balcony, puffing fervently, trying his hardest to calm down. Damned if the nicotine would enter his bloodstream any slower, though... He heard the door behind him, sighed, and raked his fingers through his hair. Just when he thought it was over, someone had to come and bitch at him. He turned around, knowing he would see Tifa there behind him.

She moved soundlessly, planting herself beside him, his eyes following her. "Listen, Reno... I'm asking you. Please join us."

"Hah." Reno squinted, looking in to the horizon.

"Forget the others. The planet..."

"Is dying. Everything's dying. The world's gonna end. Please, explain why I should give a shit?" He stared her down, his words biting, his gaze acid, boring its way through her flesh.

She was quiet. Startled. True, she had never known Reno well, just a slight friendship grown during occasional trips into the bar. Back then, something had been different. Sure he was still in Shinra, but... he seemed to care a hell of a lot more about things. She sighed.

"You were right earlier... about SOLDIER."

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"They wouldn't have made it against Shinra elite."

"Well, that's an understatement."

He removed his jacket, noting the way she hugged herself. That was Tifa for you. She was cold, and yet... wouldn't complain. He placed the coat around her shoulders, an action that made Tifa jump a little. She hadn't expected it, but thanked him soundlessly, nonetheless. The coat was warm and surprisingly made of comfortable material. It smelled like cheap alcohol, and cigarettes. Snuggling into the material, she looked at Reno, intending to smile, until something clicked.

"Reno... have you lost weight?"

He reached into his back pocket soundlessly, grasping for another cigarette. It was definitely one of those days. Truth be told, Tifa wasn't incorrect... he had noteably lost weight since Kalie's death. Did he want to talk about it? Of course not. He hadn't even talked about his true motives to turn on Shinra in the first place...

He shrugged. "That why you're up here?"

Tifa played with the straps to her fingerless gloves. Something had definitely happened with Reno. Something he obviously didn't want to talk about.

"We... I need you, Reno."

He held smoke in his mouth, not knowing what else to do. So Tifa finally came out and said it. That this whole shinra thing was something personal as well. That it had more to do than just with the planet. He exhaled and she continued.

"I had... a childhood friend.

"We grew up in Nibehlheim, together... seven years ago he left to become a SOLDIER."

Reno sighed. So that whole questioning and answering session now made sense. She was curious about him.

"He said that if I ever needed him, even if he was famous, he'd come back and save me."

Reno snorted. "Saving? Why would you need saving? YOu can kick my ass..."

"I know... but this was years ago. Maybe it was a... romantic dream? The knight in shining armour? And... he promised.

"And I never heard from him again." She paused thoughtfully. "Didn't you have anyone like that... when you went into SOLDIER... when you became a Turk? Someone to wait for you?"

"Yeah." He stamped out the cigarette on the deck, making a beautiful burn mark on the aged wood. He raggedly raked fingers through his hair. She'd never give it up. "Fine."

It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

"Fine. I'll help ya out."

"Don't tell me ya did it, Tif!" Barret stood a few feet behind the woman, an annoyed look spread across his features. "We can do without him."

"It was his choice."

Barret grumbled, the sound reverberating through the porch. "Fine. But I catch you..." He grit his teeth. "A promise is a promise. Here." He tossed Reno a small pouch of gil.

Reno opened it, bored. "That's it? I make that much sitting on the can as a..." He paused. "Twice as much for the next mission." And with those words, he entered the bar, leaving the two friends out to talk on their own.

"We're really hurting for help now. You know it. I know it. And he's been trained by SOLDIER. He isn't turning back now." She looked at Barret, pleading.

The man sighed, now leaning against the deck. "Ah know, Ah know... that's a lot of money, though. It's for Marlene's schoolin'."

Tifa smiled and place a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "I know. I'm sure everything'll be fine though. We'll get through this."

Inside, Reno stood by the door, listening. He dug his hands into his pockets and continued through the building, intent on sleep, on dreams, and on thinking this all through again.

And for the first time in a while, Reno felt guilty.

A/N : Hey look! I'm not dead yet! beams psychotically