For COWT 13, W6, M5 prompt “l’inizio della fine”, I humbly offer you the first chapter of a very dramatic FFVII fanfic.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairings: Reno/Rude, Rude/Tifa
Rating: 18+
Warning: MCD (aka Major Character Death, please be careful), violence, some p0rn, lotsa feels
Chapter one: the beginning of the end
“You’ll have to choose, eventually.”
He kept spinning the gun on the desk, feeling Reno’s hard stare drill holes in his skull. He didn’t dare to look up, he knew. All too well.
“Damnit!” Reno slammed his hand on the wood. The gun rattled and stopped. I can’t believe we’ve come to this. To you choosing between us and those damn sewer rats.”
Every word hurt, like a knife pushed into his flesh. But the pain on Reno’s face hurt more, as he raised his head.
Between her and me, Reno’s eyes said.
He heard Reno. He heard Reno damn well, clearer than it would have sounded, had Reno used words. But Reno has never been good with words. Not the right ones, at least.
Yet he couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge such. He could still feel Tifa’s gentle hands stroking his skin, her caring gaze washing over him. Nobody had looked at him like that, in a long time Not even Reno. Nobody but. Tifa.
Maybe that’s why she’d managed to trap him within her world, so different from where he was at the moment. Sitting behind his own desk, spinning a gun over its polished surface just to avoid looking Reno in the eye.
Tifa’s world was brighter, despite the artificial light. Constructed out of simple things.
Trivial, Reno would have said.
Tifa’s soft body was anything but trivial, as she nestled against him, limbs entwined and mouths welded together, on the cot tucked away in a corner of the storage room. And when she smiled, it reached her eyes without fail, wrinkling them at the corners. He loved to sweep her dark locks away to kiss her forehead, smell her scent of floral soap and home cooked meals. Endearing, after a lifetime of canteen dinners and acrid stench of gunpowder. After being exposed forever to Reno’s hard edged smirks and harsher teasing.
Still. She was the enemy. As sweet as she could be. The threat to get rid of.
“I. Should have turned down this assignment.” It reminded him of a life long lost. A life he had forgotten might even exist.
Reno’s lips curled into a sneer. “You should have thought better. I can’t believe you’re so stupid. Chelsea’s affair hasn’t taught you shit, I see.” Reno reached out, too fast to be stopped, snatched the gun and pointed it at his head. “I should kill you,” he hissed. “It’s treason, I have the authority.”
He almost hoped Reno would fire. Letting all issues leak out of his brain. It seemed. Simpler.
“Do it,” he whispered.
Reno’s eyes narrowed, blazing with fury, his brows knitted together; his lips pressed together in a tight line as he slammed the gun back on the desk. Reno bent over him; for a weird moment he froze, mouth parted as if waiting for a kiss.
“Fuck you!” Reno hissed, backhanding him hard on the face. The gesture stung more than the blow.
He bowed his head, it wasn’t possible looking at Reno storming out of the office. It tore his heart apart. The door slammed shut. He licked the blood pooling over his upper lip.
His choice has already been made.
°°° °°° °°°
He was sure that his choice was the right one, as later that day he opened the door of the 7th Heaven. The bell rang merrily, he walked inside.
“Still closed,” Tifa said, without looking up from the glasses she was drying. But then she had to raise her face from the sink, to put them on the shelf behind her back.
A beaming smile lit up Tifa’s face, as he met her eyes; she was already circling the counter, hurrying towards him, the white towel tossed over her shoulder. Then her features dropped. “Babe!” she whispered, rising on tiptoes, throwing her arms around his neck. She placed a peck on his lips. “What happened?”
He was hoping that it wasn’t that obvious. No such luck. “Nothing.” He shrugged, for more emphasis.
Tifa pulled back, waved her index finger under his nose. Her smile was tight, and sweet and he felt like a child under her scrutiny. She tilted the head to the side, her eyes never left his. Softly trying to pry into his mind. “No nonsense, Rude. What’s bothering you?”
What was he supposed to say. “I saw someone I didn’t like, on my way here.”
“An old partner of yours?” She laughed but sounded strained. “Do I have to get jealous?”
A wave of cold ran down his spine. Keeping his face level was hard, as it just tried to twist up in pain. “I saw a suit. A black one,” he replied softly. Well, that was the truth wasn’t it? He had seen Reno. For the last time.
Tifa gasped. “We’ve been had.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. I bet you guys are not the only thing going on in this Sector. But maybe it’d be safer to postpone the raid for a couple of days.”
She stepped between his legs, so close once again. “We can’t back out right now, everything’s ready. Then, wouldn’t it be riskier? More time for Shinra to gather intel.” She smelled of lilies and fried bacon, it made him smile; he wouldn’t have thought that the scent of breakfast could be so exciting.
He reached out, Tifa’s chin was smooth between his fingers. “More time for Barrett to assess the situation. Just my two Gils. But maybe you want to speak of this with him.”
There really hadn’t been a Turk on his way here, gathering intel on Avalanche. The intel had already been gathered, documented in a series of reports where truth and lies mingled so tightly that not even he was able to discern one from the other anymore.
“Hm.” She nodded, sharply. He bent the face downwards and met her lips.
They parted. She was waiting for him. And he. Drowned in her. A low growl escaped his throat, she tasted fresh. Alive. Young. Her cheeks were soft under his hands. Her hair flowed freely, spun silk between his fingers, cool and thick. Her firm tits squished against his chest, driving him crazy.
It had been a fucking long time. Too long, for him to be able to resist.
The fleeting thought of Reno’s taut muscles, the scratch of his stubble against his chin when his partner sought for his lips, crossed his mind. Damn unfair. Different leagues, how could Reno compete against this soft beauty? He has always liked women, as well; Reno was well aware of that.
The harsh sound of Reno’s “Fuck you!” rang in his ears, again and again.
Guess what, partner? Think I’ll fuck her, instead.
He gasped, sliding his tongue into Tifa’s mouth. She tilted the head backwards, allowing him access, as deep as he wished, and it was some. She whimpered sweetly, hooking her arms around his neck. His hands ran down her back, to the strip of bare skin left exposed by her cropped tank top, then slid under the belt of her microskirt, fingertips caressing the soft curve of her ass, digging into her sweet flesh.
Tifa was out of breath when she pulled back. “Babe-” Her eyes were so bright, brighter than any jewel, gazing deeply into his. “I’ve missed you so much. Where have you been yesterday? I had hoped that you’d show up, as usual.” She chewed on her own smile. Looked at him as if he was. Vital. To her happiness.
I’ve been to work, you know? I released a last report, choked full of false info to avert Shinra’s attention from you, and said my farewells. I Hoped to be killed, But I haven’t been this lucky.
Or was he?
With Tifa so close he was allowed to feel lucky. Free, at last. From his previous, suffocating life. She was the breath of fresh wind he needed, carefree and cool, despite the sour smog thickening the underplate air.
“I had some loose ends to take care of. But now I’m here to stay. If you wish.” He had nowhere else to stay, to be honest. His quarter in Shinra Tower was just out of reach. Then and forever.
She gazed at him, breathless. Disbelief crossed her eyes, for a split second. Then, realization. “For real?”
He nodded.
“Babe,” Tifa whispered. “Do you even have to ask? You make me so happy.” Her laugh sounded like a rain cane, being shaken again, and again. She tilted her head, her dark hair swayed around like slow waves, then she threw her arms around his neck and jumped, wrapping her strong thighs tightly around his waist. He held her up, with one arm under her butt like a seat and the other wrapped around her shoulders.
Mrs Infectious.
His laughter was lower. Shorter. Because she cut it abruptly with a kiss, the tip of her tongue playing with his, her teeth nibbling on his lower lip. Short, but undoubtedly there. It had been years since he last laughed, before meeting her. Snickering at Reno’s banters seemed suddenly a mockery of life.
The life she was so full of.
The life he always stole, as per his job description. But he was unemployed, at the time, and he hoped that it could be enough.
Little he knew. You can’t really expect to piss off life balance itself and get away with it, unscathed.
Can you?
But her thighs were tight around his waist, and she was pressing her pelvis against his erection. She rubbed against him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Aw, babe. Let me lock the place.” Her voice was a hot whisper against his ear, she tried to wriggle free from his hold, he just tightened his embrace.
He carried her to the door. She was light, and warm, fitting just right in his arms. Effortless. To be with. She reached out and turned the key. Click.
The red tassel swung merrily, fell limp.
He put his lips to the side of her neck, the silken tent of her hair brushed his shaved skull. It made him shiver in pleasure, as he sucked a trail of kisses down to her collarbone.
She moaned. “Babe. What kind of god sent you my way?”
He froze for a split second. A god? Or a demon. He just hoped for the first, hoped to be worthy of redemption. To be good enough for her, he wanted. Dam, he wanted so much to be good. Being the bad guy really didn’t suit him. Not anymore, It had been an escape route, the perfect one at some point. Now he had had enough.
Of everything. But her.
He couldn’t get enough of her. Never.
So he laid Tifa on the cot. Her breath hitched as he raised his head and looked at her whole, kneeling between her spread thighs. She reached out to caress his face, she looked like a deity of forgiveness, surrounded by the dark sea of her hair, waving around her slim waist, her muscular shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. Tifa took his breath away: beautiful didn’t even start to describe her.
He sat on his heels and took off one of her red boots, then the other, and lined them next to the high shelving. He could have never averted his eyes from the smiling curve of her rosy lips. The way her sweet tits raised and fell, trembling, with each of her shaky breath.
He could have never averted his eyes from Tifa, not even with a gun to his head. Filling his eyes with her beauty until the last breath; that would have been a blissful death.
He pulled up her short short skirt, traced with his pointer her wet slit, through the thin cotton. Tifa gasped, rubbing herself against his finger; he kissed her belly, lowered her panties and put the tip of his tongue over her clitoris. Her scent made him swoon. Tifa squirmed, arched on the mattress as he slid a finger, another, into her pussy.
He made her cry his name out loud, with his fingers, with his cock. He made her call his name, anguish and pleasure mixed in her voice as he moved over her, inside her, caressing her exposed skin, sucking her lips in endless kisses.
Her voice was so sweet, veined with lust, when she came; riding him, swaying like a graceful flower over his cock, her dark hair caressing her beautiful shoulders like a regal mantle. He came inside her, with a low sigh, looking at her shiny eyes, redder than the reddest garnets, sweeter than honey.
“Gods, Rude,” she breathed, her lips curved in a satisfied smile.. “You are so generous. Make a girl lose her mind.” She laughed, eyes shiny, and let herself fall by his side. “Have I told you how happy I am that you’re staying.”
He laughed, too, running his thumb across her bottom lip. “Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it again. And again.”
Her breath stopped, her eyes grew wide. “I have never thought it was possible to love someone the way I love you.” She put a very small kiss at the corner of his lips, adoration in her beautiful eyes.
He froze and stayed very still, trying not to break the fragile moment with his rudeness. She was so graceful. He needed every ounce of her.
“Why such a sudden decision?” Tifa asked later on, serving him a latte just before opening the inn.
He bowed his head. How could he explain to this girl, that he had no choice but leave everything: his job, his partner, even the place he had been calling home for more than ten years.Tthat he was feeling so torn between his real life, and the dream she was enclosing him into, that he was thinning at the edges. That he had lost his mind for her and couldn’t look back anymore or he would break. “I’ve been fired last week. Yesterday, I got my last paycheck and gathered my personal belongings.”
Her smile became sad. “Awh, babe, I’m sorry. But you don’t have to be ashamed. Hard things happen, but you will always have me. When are you moving your stuff in?”
He shrugged, nodded at his back.
She looked at his black duffel bag, lying by the inn door, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s all in there?”
Another nod. She laughed. “Well, I can’t even say you will clutter the place. Which is good since we’re cramped, already.”
“Tifa. Are you sure that you can keep me here? I can find a-“
She slapped his shoulder, made a soft laugh . “You must be kidding me. As if I could let you anywhere far from myself, now that you’ve finally surrendered.”
He ran a thumb down the middle of her back, tracing the bumps of her spine. She squirmed and giggled.
“I-” he tried. Not knowing well where he was going to end, it was just. Overwhelming. Soul overflown. Brain, dead. Absorbing her goodness through all pores. She was a spring rain, soaking gently the fractured dry ground of his soul. Growing life at her passage.
She chuckled against his chest and looked up at him. I Wouldn’t have ever imagined that someone as big as you could be cute. Boy, was I wrong.” She pulled him towards his bag. “What were you in, before being fired? Cuddling bunnies? Combing kittens tenderly? You’re so adorable.”
Get away from me! He should have screamed. Because it suddenly felt as if she were holding a timebomb, wrapped up in the most beautiful package, and he was afraid. That she might get hurt.
He broke necks, shattered bones, bruised joints and muscle. That has been his job. Infiltrated into strangers’ lives to exploit them. As it happened with Tifa. The initial plan was quite different: get to know her, make her fall in love with him, gather info then evaporate, leaving burnt ground behind himself. It didn’t quite work as it looks.
“I was a bouncer,” he grumbled after a very long time
Tifa beamed and clapped her hands together. “Well, ain’t it just perfect? I really needed one. Or a bartender, but I’d rather mix drinks than throw out obnoxious people. Will you work for me?” She propped her hand, he took it between his, pulled it up to his mouth. “I was hoping that you could find me something to do, to match your hospitality. You kissed her knuckles, rough with newly healed scrapes. “And these poor fists need some rest.”
She sighed. “It’s such a relief, you have no idea. It was too much for a one girl show, but I’ve never had enough Gil to pay someone to do the work. Then you popped in. Now tell me, babe. Where’s the issue?”
“Huh?” The bag handles slipped from his hand. It fell with a deaf thump.
“You can’t really be this perfect for me. Do you snore?”
He shook his head, feeling something big, and dark, looming over his head. No, babe. I have just been working for your nemesis until this morning. No god sent me. Just the Prez, so that I can pry into your little secrets. Know your moves in advance. This is what he should have told her, if he had been an honorable man. But he was weak, and lonely, and too desperately in love with the idea of loving her, that he replied nothing.
This was supposed to be an easy op. Even pleasurable. Hanging around for drinks, getting to know a young, hot chick with remarkable tits. Get into her graces. Get vital intel through casual chatter.
Reno would have been fitter for that. He was the one to flirt around, fuck his preys senseless, and disappear.
He wasn’t.
He disappeared from the workplace.
Disappeared from Reno’s life, from his own one.
Put his heart on the damn line.
And that invariably led to horrible judgment.
And wrong choices
°°° °°° °°°
Tifa Lockheart.
Born on May 3, 1987 in Nibelheim, to Brian Lockhart and his wife, Thea Lockhart. Grew up in there. Survived the whole incident.
Better.
Key figure of the whole op. Lead the Shinra expedition that had to investigate that cursed reactor. Lost her father to Sephiroth and ended up sliced by Masamune herself. Was thought to be dead, until she resurfaced in Midgar, years later.
The fact she survived Sephiroth was a sheer miracle by itself.
He winced the first time he saw the deep scar crossing her chest. Her eyes were glued upon him, she was holding her breath. He said nothing, just traced its path with light kisses.
Tifa gasped, as he derailed to suck a nipple, but didn’t close the eyelids. “I thought. I feared you’d be grossed out.”
He was used to scars. Reno himself was a book, whole chapters written upon his pale skin in pink, thick hieroglyphs, wearing whitish overtime. Descriptions of pain. He knew that language very well. So he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It looks painful.” And he meant that. There was Shinra’s name on every inch of that slash. He had Shinra. He had been there. In Nibelheim.
Suddenly he saw those roaring flames again, engulfing whole lives. She didn’t know. Didn’t know anything. Young. Still naive, somehow. Despite everything she’d been through.
“Why would you?” She asked, tilting her head. “I am sorry that you have to see this. Thing.”
I’m sorry because it feels as if I caused it myself. “Because I–would have liked to protect you.” He whispered instead.
Tifa smiled. Wistful. “How could you? We didn’t know each other, it happened a long time ago.”
Are you sure, Tifa? He thought, averting his gaze for a split second.
She waited for a question he didn’t voice. He knew every detail of the incident, already, maybe better than her. He had no need to ask. He hoped she would appreciate it.
She probably did, because she didn’t share her version of the story, that time. Nor.
Ever.
So he tried to sweep away that thought from his mind and bent over her, willing to drown himself in the peaceful sea she was. To cleanse his soul and emerge as a new person, someone worthy of being loved by her.
It didn’t work much.
It never does.
Yet, he tried to cherish her like she deserved, after all the ugliness she got overtime. To protect and to serve her. He tried to make her scream his name, and she did, low, almost anguished as he buried himself within her warmness. To the hilt. Honey ran down her thighs, dampening the flimsy sheets. Her arms laced tightly around his neck, gentle fingers digging into his knotted muscles. She was strong, but only when it was needed.
Sometimes he got so many scratches and bites and bruises, after his sessions with Reno, that it looked like he was fresh out of a cage full of hungry, angry cats. Fucking like fighting, for supremacy.
When he made love with Tifa, it was like a dance.
So slow it made him mad, growling, gasping loud and sweet. He has always been the quiet one.
She was able to find his voice.
Tifa Lockheart.
Female. Current residence the “7th Heaven”, an inn located in the 7th sector underplate called “7th heaven”.
The place is believed to hide the base of an Avalanche cell.
Avalanche had been defeated with the fall of Zirconiade, this is what everyone knew, at Shinra. So when the first notice broke, about a novel cell trying to pick up when the first wave had stopped, he was sent there, to seduce her and investigate further on the suspicious circle of people who used to gather around her inn.Meet in the basement. Use the place as a base for their actions.
But he got tangled up too heavily in her homely world.
Tifa Lockheart.
20 years old, female. Cool as a spring rain. Cleansing his mind.
“It never rains in Midgar. It’s Gaia’s revenge. Trying to cast us off, but we do resist.” Who was then? Not Reno. Too deep. Someone, from the riddle of faces and black suits he was trying to forget. Tseng maybe? He was the phylosophical kind. Although the philosophy of his Wutaian colleague and new boss usually shit scared him.
The only real kind act of Tseng had been to send them to track the two SOLDIERs that managed to escape Hojo’s labs; they were involved in the Nibelheim incident, too. Well, one of the worst fiasco of their careers. They were never able to find them.
The only real SOLDIER disappeared, presumably dead, leaving a shitload of slayed colleagues behind.
The other one resurfaced, like Tifa. In Midgar. Orbiting around her without knowing why, with that obnoxious attitude and the amnesia eating him alive. Swinging the massive sword that had belonged to his lost comrade, and to Angeal before him.
He was born in Nibelheim, too. Tifa was friends with him when they were kids. Teen vows were exchanged with that Cloud guy, she confessed to him once, just before he enrolled in the SOLDIER program. She was devastated to see him this way, she didn’t know what to do to help him.
Tifa Lockheart.
20, female. Kind.
A survivor.
So young with respect to him, bordering his thirties.
Kind, empathic. Still human, despite what she’s been through.
She’s not a damn killing machine, hard wired for destruction
Just like him, like Reno. He just hoped to be not too hopeless. That she could still rub off him a little.
This is why he chose her.
°°° °°° °°°
For the next day he followed Tifa’s steps, like a bloodhound at her heel. She walked quickly, and fluid, like she was used to covering long distances on foot, measuring her movements to save energy. Her long hair waved against her back like the darkest of seas; the suns perched under the steel sky made them shine like foam, dying over the beach at night.
He helped her with her errands. Walked by her side, hands laced. Stood by her back, a bodyguard more than a bouncer, glaring to anyone who dared to linger their gaze for a moment too much upon her.
Holding her tightly was his top favorite, he wrapped his arm around her waist, hips touching, shoulders brushing, searching each other with every movement. Fingers digging in the flesh of her side, soft. And taut. Two facets, like everything about her. The warrior and the angel.
Tifa greeted everyone, and chatted around. Gathered Gils, redistributed some. It felt like she was the glue tying the neighborhood together. The crazy haired old landlady, the guys at the armory, the woman with too many children around her legs at the grocery store.She tried to be helpful, without making distinctions. Giving shelter to renegade SOLDIERs and stray Turks alike.
The slums mayor.
It came to his mind that maybe. Just maybe. The city itself would have been better under her rule. She knew about the struggle of living, with poor resources, on a barren ground. The underplate was so far from the top of Shinra Tower. The people flowing incessantly through the streets didn’t seem much more than ants, from up there.
Here he can look them in the eye.
She was soft and taut. She was warm, smelled like home. She would stop anywhere, anytime, when the quirk struck her, and bumped into him, raised on tiptoe, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. Short kisses, not more than the brush of her lips over his, and long ones, with their mouths glued together and their tongues playing tenderly.
He received a pair of sunglasses, courtesy of a redhead friend of hers. They smelled of cheap plastic, a deep scratch cut the left lens in half. Yet, they worked. Somehow.
Tifa pushed them up his nose. “Those soft eyes would betray my bouncer,” she whispered in his ear and kissed him on the neck, caressing the shaved curve of his skull.
He felt his lobes taking fire, hotness spreaded down to his cheeks. She was so close.
Her wrist brushed his skin, as she lowered his shades to look straight at him. She was smiling. “Then you know, I’m the jealous kind. No one is allowed to see such beauty, but me.”
He just held her into his arms and kissed her. Slow and deep. Feeling at home after so many years.
Pleading every god he knew to forgive his sins, and have mercy on him. But he had fallen too far from grace, even if he deluded himself that he could be redeemed by Tifa. That that by helping her he could atone for his own sins.
But maybe a single right choice isn’t enough to balance out all the crap one has done in his life.
Ain’t it?
°°° °°° °°°
The next evening, after closing the 7th Heaven, Tifa slid by his side as he was drying the last glasses of the day.
She beamed. “Thanks so much! I didn’t hope that a bouncer’s duties included tidying up the place.”
“It’s just some crockery,” he muttered as his cheeks felt hot. “Don’t you have to go to that meeting tonight? “
Tifa laughed. “The meeting is coming to me, babe.” She placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, then on a second thought she glued her lips to his.
He wiped his hands on the jeans and held her tightly against him, tasted the honey on her tongue.
“You can use Materia, ain’t it? Why don’t you come with me? You look strong enough for this job and we had a defection last night.”
He froze. It was one thing to fraternize with the enemy, intimately. But actively participating in an attack on his former employers was another. Yet, he wasn’t part of that world anymore, right? He had come out of that, he had made the right choice.
He chose her.
And this mission was part of her life. She believed so much in stopping the exploitation of the Lifestream carried out by Shinra, believed that a better future was possible for everyone. It was refreshing for him, after being disillusioned and cynical for most of his life.
Maybe going with them wasn’t a bad idea: he was so worried about her, every time she mentioned the incoming attack to the reactor, simply because he knew the peaks of cruelty Shinra was capable of when their assets were threatened.
She could easily die, during that attack, every member of this ragtag Avalanche cell was at risk. Not that he cared much about them, but he cared about Tifa, and being around meant being able to protect her. Meant increasing tenfold the chance of their success, since he knew shitloads of Shinra’s dirty tricks.
So he stayed, as her acquaintances arrived one by one. The loud boss with his aggressive sunglasses, the flabby cat lady in warrior disguise, the spoiled kid, the broody merch, the too good to be true guy.
All their eyes were fixed on him.
They all went down the stairs of that accursed basement; he was following the light steps of her merry red boots on the creaky wood. There he met officially the other cell members for the first time. Although he knew most of them already: he had seen their pictures in various corporate reports, some of them he himself even contributed to write.
And he had seen all of them come and go multiple times, orbiting around the 7th Heaven too much not to be suspicious.
Barret kept staring at him, as they sat around the square table. Tifa introduced him as his new “bouncer and handyman” with a playful smile.
But the man’s thick lips remained level, his eyes unreadable behind his dark glasses. It was unnerving, being on the wrong end. “Are you sure we can trust him, Tifa?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, her eyebrows fell. She raised her hands before her. “I wouldn’t bring here anyone I don’t trust with my life. Rude is a friend. He’s been nothing but honest with me.”
There he realized with a shiver how good he was at his job. She hadn’t seen through him, at all. She trusted him completely. Maybe because he was playing his role very well. So well that he started believing in it himself. And switched sides.
Finding himself sat at a table with his archenemies.
Life has strange ways.
He stood up, the screech of his chair sounded ominous in the sudden silence, and looked into the black pools of Barret’s shades. “You are right,” he said, opening his arms. “I could even be a Turk undercover.” A slight smirk curved his lips as he disguises behind his true self.
Barrett’s face froze for a split second, then his laughter boomed within the narrow room. “That’s the answer I was waiting for! If this girl trusts you it’s like I selected you myself.” Barret raised on foot and got around the table, his huge hand felt heavy on the shoulder when the man slapped him. Hard enough to shake him. “Welcome aboard, Rude,”
He felt Barrett’s gaze evaluating him from head to toe, and to head again; a trickle of sweat ran down his back, under the dilapidated gray shirt. “For how much I try,” commented the man at the end, “I just can’t imagine you dressed in a black suit.”
Just like the one he used to wear daily? Better for him. On the contrary, maybe, Barrett could have remembered seeing him on other occasions. But he didn’t.
He didn’t recognize the Shinra man under the mismatched rags that made him an underplater, that were provided to him by the Purchasing Office when he was assigned to the Avalanche infiltration op. Ripped dark jeans. Greenish sneakers, with holes on their toes. Layered tees, so old that they lost their original color to some muddy gray. A faded blue hoodie. He had almost forgotten the feeling of the tie strangling his neck. He fitted perfectly in that badly assorted group of people.
And that badly assorted group of people cheered him into their team, except for the damn fake SOLDIER who kept on glaring at him from the corner where he was standing, since he always refused to sit down. He was close with Tifa when they were kids; he wondered if the guy held a grudge on him for stealing his old girlfriend. Maybe that was his normal attitude, he had never seen him smiling, or having a friendly attitude. Cloud was there for the money, and he never failed to point it out.
He couldn’t care less.
“Talking about Turks, Rude, tell Barrett about the one you saw around here two days ago.” There was an edge of worry in Tifa’s voice.
He turned to her. He almost forgot.
“Turks close to our base?” Barrett asked, raising an eyebrow.
He shook his head, he had to find something to divert his attention. “He wasn’t here, i saw him by the train station. He looked like he was waiting for someone else, but i didn’t stop to keep an eye on what he was doing.”
“A man?” asked Cloud from his corner.
“Yes. Short, gaunty. Red hair.” He didn’t know why he gave out the description of Reno. That was unfair. But his partner was the first thought surfacing in his mind when he thought about Shinra, or Turks. Reno was everything, while he was living in Sector 0.
He wondered how Reno became nothing in such a short span of time.
Caught within Tifa’s web of quietude, he hadn’t thought about him at all, in the past days. As if the office door that Reno slammed behind his own back while he was storming away, had erased his partner from his mind, not only from his life.
“It means nothing. Those fuckers come and go as if the place was theirs.” Barret dismissed the topic with a shake of his shoulders. “We planned the op for tomorrow and this is what we are doing. “Tell me something interesting, instead. What’s your style of combat?”
“Close contact.” He showed his bare hands. It still felt weird without the shield of his leather gloves.
Barrett grinned. “Very well. We’ll find a role for you.”
Then blueprints of the reactor were shared, plans were refreshed and adjusted to accommodate his presence. He gave some advice on a couple of crucial passages and Barrett looked weirdly at him.
“These are redacted info, how can you possibly know them? We weren‘t able to find a clue in months.
He felt a cold wave run down his spine. “I have been working for Shinra, in the past.”
Barrett raised an eyebrow. “What?”
He shrugged. “I have been working in the cleaning staff of the Wutai reactor for a while.” He hoped that Tseng’s stores about his birthplace were enough to construct a believable story, in case they asked him for more details. But no one asked anything more.
Only Barrett. “Why did you quit?”
He shrugged again. “I was fired. Thankfully, because I hated that place.”
“The reactor?”
“Wutai.”
Barrett nodded. “But you’re not originally from there. Although you have a slight accent–”
“I was born in Costa.”
Tifa laughed. “You have a history of layoffs under your belt. Are you sure you don’t really have to tell me anything?”
He wasn’t sure, at all, but he laughed with her on the topic. “I assume I’ve never found the right workplace. Or some good colleagues.”
Wrong, and wrong. He liked working for Shinra at some point. He liked the good money they gave him, and the life he could afford with it. His colleagues were funny, and capable. And then there was Reno.
Reno had been everything for him, for a very long time. Perpetually by his side, and he learnt to appreciate his presence day after day. He learnt it so well that a single day without his partner seemed impossible.
But meeting Tifa swept everything away.
Meeting her was like an epiphany, like opening his eyes after a long slumber. He had been brainwashed by Shinra, the life he was living was artificial and narrow: enough for a machine, not for a man. And somehow Tifa has been able to find the traces of the man under the mask of the perfect employee, to show them even to him, who had forgotten they existed.
“Third is the charm.” Tifa smiled. “I hope it holds true this time.”
“I’ll try to behave.”
Everyone laughed. She disappeared up the stairs and brought down cold beers from the inn.
“To us, the forces of renovation for this fucked up planet” said Barrett raising his can.
“To victory,” he replied touching it with his.
“This is the attitude.” Barrett looked at him, with a pleased expression, then at Tifa. “You have a good eye for recruits, girl!”
Her face reddened, and she made a nervous giggle. “Quit it, Barrett.”
He drank his cold beer, it relieved his dry throat.
Everything was being so weirdly smooth, he wondered if it might be an elaborate trap to frame him. But those were simple people, they weren’t like him, or Reno, who have been dancing on intricacies in the past ten years or more, to make a living.
They were genuine, and naked in their intentions.
They were real people.
He had been a puppet, and a fake, for too long.
With Tifa he had chosen freedom, and life. It couldn’t possibly be a wrong choice.
***
Tifa’s hands were shaking, as she locked the door of the 7th Heaven.
“Nervous?” He swept the glossy cascade of her hair and kissed her neck.
She nodded, made a nervous smile. “It isn’t a game anymore.”
“Has it ever been?” he asked in a soft tone. He thought of the scar crossing her torso and shivered. He had been living in danger for most of his adult life, yet he had never suffered such an extensive wound. It must have taken a long time to heal, multiple Materia sessions. Probably it even impacted her current life. So much pain, he couldn’t possibly have an idea. He kissed her again, holding her gently in his arms.
The fact that she had been able to bear it didn’t mean she deserved it. And now she was putting her life at risk again, despite knowing how bad it could end.
She was brave, braver than most of the people he knew, including himself. Maybe Reno could surpass her in that field, but his middle name was Recklessness. So sure that he was better than his opponents to border folly in his attitude on the battlefield.
She couldn’t have been more different from him.
Her eyes widened, soft and beautiful. Her smile deepend, she shook her head. “Never,” she whispered. “But we made it through.”
And then he saw it again. The edge of pain unbalancing the sweet curve of her lips.
“You made it through, Tifa.” He stroked her hair.
“Don’t take it the wrong way, babe, but you too look like someone who’s never had much in his life.”
He was left speechless for a moment. That wasn’t really true. “I’ve had a lot of ups and downs. So I assume the balance is even.” He brushed her lips with his thumb. “But this is the uppest upper I’ve ever had.”
He should have known that after an up the descent is fast, steep, breathless. Shattering bones upon landing.
But he was so up high, high on happiness as if dizzy from lack of oxygen on the top of the highest mountain.
Tifa hooked her strong arms around his neck, brushed his lips with hers. “I didn’t think I could love anyone the way I love you, Rude. If this is a dream I don’t want to wake up. Ever.”
His head spun for a terrifying moment.
“I love you more than my life.” He cupped her cool cheeks with his hands. “Does this dream feel real enough?” He captured her mouth, savored her lips, her slow tongue.
Her breath hitched, she pulled back slightly. Her eyes were full of anguish, in the low light of the night suns. “I’m so afraid, Rude. And if something goes wrong tonight?”
A shiver ran down his spine. It was her first time doing a raid. And half of her friends didn’t seem much more skilled. “I will cover your back, honey. Nothing can happen to you.”
Bold words. But he felt ready to give his life to protect her. To make something right in a life full of wrongness.
She shook her head frantically, in a tornado of dark hair. “And if something happens to you?? I–I–” Tifa stopped talking, her eyes were shiny with tears.
“Nothing can happen to me, if you are guarding my back.”
Once again, the exhilarating sensation of trusting someone so much to entrust them with his safety.
The same as it was with.
Reno.
His brain short-circuited for a split moment. He closed his eyes and kissed her to erase the image of his partner’s aqua eyes blazing with madness, right before he threw himself into the swing of things.
That was what he most feared. The awful feeling that all the responsibility for Reno’s survival rested on his shoulders. That he wouldn’t have been good enough to cover for him, sooner or later, and that it would have caused his death.
He grabbed her by her waist, pushed her up against the wall of the building, pressed her against the ruined plaster with his body and lost himself in her yielding mouth, sweeter than honey.
“Please be careful,” whispered Tifa, when she pulled back.
“I will,” he replied. “For you.” And he glued his lips to hers once more, an heated battle of tongues and teeth that left both of them breathless.
“Let’s go, it’s getting late.” Tifa unwrapped her long legs from around his waist.
He set her down gently and grabbed her hand. “Let’s pretend that you are my girlfriend.”
Her laughter was tense. “Why pretend?”
She was right, he chose her.
“At the moment we are teammates,” he replied, pulling her beside him, wrapping his arm around her bare shoulders. “But for the sake of the mission we can kiss all the way to the reactor.”
This made Tifa laugh better than before.
They actually exchanged a lot of kisses while they hurried there. It was the best choice of coverup he could think of.
***
The others arrived scattered, from different directions, that Jesse girl connected her code breaker to the lock keyboard and entered quick lines of code, the blue light of the display cast eerie shadows under her cheekbones; the silence was tense as they all stood in a half circle behind her.
She was cute in her own ways, although she reminded him of an old movie, with that red band around the forehead. It was about some guys who ended up prisoners and were forced to play Russian roulette by their jailers for their amusement. They were wearing a similar band, just wider, to disguise the blood in case something went wrong.
There’s always something going horribly wrong in certain scenarios.
But the main gate for the reactor slid open easily and they got inside.
The party split up in two segments, he insisted to be grouped with Tifa and the blondie merc was added to their group. He was a broody type, but he damn knew how to use that impressive sword of his.
He knew that blade. He used to know its SOLDIER owner, as well, and cleared the massacre he left in his wake. A last act, after being unable to drag him to safety. His weapon had disappeared with him, and had reappeared hung to the square shoulders of this blonde Cloud guy.
The companion Zack had tried to save, now fighting alongside them to get to the core of that damn reactor.
And they fought. They fought countless guards and red eyed dogs that looked like they came straight out of hell. Mechs. A shitload of them. For the first time in life on the wrong side of Shinra defenses, he reckoned that life was easier on the correct one. Here he had to conquer every inch of his advance.
Adrenaline ran through his veins, fire blazed out of his fists, Tifa landed blow after blow by his side, in the swirling of her long ponytail. A goddess of wind, tight fists in her clawed gloves and narrowed, blazing eyes the color of flaming garnets.
Keeping each other back, as Cloud cleared the way.
It felt known and totally off at the same time.
Apparently he couldn’t be without fighting, in this life. It felt better, alongside Tifa. As if he was pouring his efforts into the right cause.
A better world.
For her.
This kept his bruised bones going, until he stood at the heart of the reactor, and Cloud shoved the timebomb inside its gleaming ass.
Twenty minutes to go.
They were more than enough to evade the doomed building, letting it explode behind their backs. He turned briefly to admire their hard work, as flaming debris blazed in the air like twisted fireworks. He laced his arm around Tifa’s shoulder, keeping her close, supporting her tired body.
It felt good. The start of his vengeance against his former owner. Dooming enemies, allies and bystanders in the same relentless way.
He thought about Reno’s tensed shoulders, about his horrible eating habits and the chains of cigarettes he smoked, the filter burning between his shaky fingers. They were like an alert bell. Just like the rivers of alcohol they consumed together, to try and drown memories.
But they’d learnt how to swim.
It felt like he was avenging that painful scar splitting Tifa’s chest in half and the invisible one that ran through Reno’s soul, at once.
It felt righteous.
Like he had made the right choice, once again.
unlikely 