#reno2ndgun

Mouth already concealed behind his hand while he concentrated, Rufus allowed himself a small smile while he finished reading before sitting back and giving Reno his attention, neutral mask in place once more.

“Sir, you’ve been held up with all that paperwork and haven’t had a chance to have a coffee break yet, I brought you a coffee.” Just how he likes it. of course it isn’t her job description to get her superior Turk Agent coffee, but she’s free right now, so she doesn’t see the harm in it.

She’s not trying to score points with him or anything, it just seemed like a natural thing to do , considering he’d been at this awhile and hasn’t had a break yet.

A young Reno has his first run in with an even younger Sephiroth at the Military Academy of Midgar.

Involved Characters: Sephiroth, 14yo ( @ghostofnibelheim ), Reno, 15yo ( @reno2ndgun​ )

References: Before Crisis -Final Fantasy VII-

Settings: Midgar, Late November εγλ 1994

If he closed his eyes and focused, he could almost pretend to be elsewhere right now. Back to Wutai, in the trenches. The flashes of sunlight intruding the inside of the armored van through the small window became the halo of explosions against his closed eyelids; the rumble of the engine rattled and revved like distant automatic machine guns drowning his thoughts.

Was it strange that at this moment, the boy wished nothing more than to be back there? Was there something broke inside him for having such macabre thought processes?

That was where he belonged. This city, on the other hand? It was little more than a name. Nothing but a background painting through the windows of the tall pedestal in which he had resided for as long as his memory served him. The people of Midgar sung praises in his name, but to him it was as good as silence. A faint buzz at most, too incoherent and foreign for him to grasp.

“We’re almost there. If you look outside now, you’ll see the front walls of the Military Academy.” The Turk sitting across him in the vehicle informed.

He did not look outside.

A metal clad finger had started to tap restlessly on the curve of the steel helmet on his lap.

“You can leave that here. It’s not like you’ll need it.”

Narrow dark slits in cold jade green lifted to look up. Defiance glowering in the depths of those cat-like irids.

“I will keep it.” He replied, slipping the helmet on just as the car came to a stop. He at least made the polite attempt to respond despite his refusal.

He was 14, on the cusp of puberty. The hormonal tests had confirmed this, and the behavioral issues that had cropped up with each visit back to headquarters were like a bitter cherry on top of the cake. A difficult, rebellious phase was ahead for the unlucky few with the rank and authority to deal with Shinra’s poster boy.

The fact that he was as socially sheltered as a caged beast hadn’t helped him either, and the warzone had affected him in ways unfit for someone his age. He was unpredictable, picky, and antisocial. Prone to disregard instructions and give an attitude at the most uncalled moments.

But still, he completed his missions dutifully. That was the only reason he was here today.

What an awful timing for the President to decide the recruiting propaganda for SOLDIER should kick off now. Understandable in retrospect; the war needed more units. It was the means that were questionable. To take a boy who had seldom interacted with anyone for anything other than receiving orders and executing them, and feed him to the masses for publicity. How could the board of directors not see the potential fallacies?

With Hojo absolutely uninterested in the matter, it had fallen on the second person closest to the SOLDIER prodigy to do damage control. Veld’s department had been put in charge of escorting the fighter to any and all facilities he was ordered to visit for exposure and promotion of the SOLDIER program. It was no surprise that schools would be a target, even less so the Military Academy of Midgar.

Should any... unexpected accident occur, the Turks were the most fit to clean up and sweep any negative publicity under the carpet. In these regards, their symbiotic existence around the young SOLDIER was no different than in the war.

“It’s time, Sephiroth.”

When his left hand went instinctively to hold onto something nearby, the boy felt  a knot in his stomach, remembering his weapon wasn’t there to accompany him. Lips pressed into a thin line under the steel visor. He felt vulnerable, as though deprived of his security blanket.

It would be okay.

He had to tell himself so. He had to move forward, and perform.

The quietest sigh escaped his lips, and in a few moments, brown leather boots stepped off the vehicle, a long silver ponytail sweeping down from under the helmet and against the blue of his uniform, reaching the middle of his back.

zoxto

--Continued from (x)

@reno2ndgun

Freyja sighs and rubs her fingers together, squinting at Reno with a bump of shoulder to shoulder.

“Look. It’s not ‘mean’ to stand your ground. You’re not her property or her pet. Doesn’t matter if she’s had a tough life. Just because she’s interested doesn’t mean she gets to touch up on you when you don’t want her to. I saw you flinch, she kept it up. In your shoes, I’d have broken her fingers. You’re nicer than I am.”

A sip of soda, a final bite of spicy street taco goodness, and she dusts her hands off to tuck her legs up under herself.

Changing subjects is easy enough as she watches the flow of fog between tall buildings.

“...yeah, Mideel is that green in a lot of places. Bugs get huge too. Some of ‘em are even bloodsuckers. And then you’ve got the, uh, terrorpedes, they get the size of cars. Venomous too.”

Another sip, and she cracks a little grin as Reno tears into the candy bar. Seems like an acceptable trade, contraband for contraband, and that sets Freyja a little more at ease as she listens about the city.

About the mischief that can be caused with specific knowledge of said city. Well now. That catches her attention, and she cannot help but grin as she props her elbow against her knee, chin in hand.

“Hmm, you wanna be my guide? I’d like that. Haven’t, eh. Haven’t gotten out to actually see much.”

A bit of a distant look--watching drones in their circling path of surveillance--and she blinks once, twice.

“I, uh.”

She debates, inwardly, Veld’s caution, but also his push toward trusting Turks. Trust is the hard part, isn’t it?

“...I don’t really know anyone else but you, Director Veld, and Tseng, and even then-”

Does anyone really know them? Really, truly. A shrug.

“I caught some men they were hunting. Three guys with briefcases trying to cut through my family’s land, guess they were heading to the little, uh. Spa. Place. Pit trapped two, shot one’s leg off.”

Her thumb taps against the edge of her jaw.

“I thought they were poachers or smugglers at first, but then I started going through their stuff, and that’s when Veld and Tseng--almost melted from the woods. If they’d have moved any closer, my snare would have grabbed them both.”