One step from Oblivion
It took a lot of Mary's strength to pull the boy along with her to the principal's office. The young boy was screaming and kicking, generally showing his disapproval with the situation.
She eventually managed to get him all the way from the mess hall to the office.
"Reno?! You're causing trouble again?!" The Headmaster got up with an expression of annoyance. He was a heavy religious man with little patience for troublemakers. Well, he probably had to be very religious to be the headmaster of the orphanage.
Reno stayed defiantly silent. The boy had to be around the age of seven. He had shaggy, messy red hair that reached his shoulders.
"What chaos did this little monster unleash this time?" The headmaster asked Mary. She tugged Reno's arm violently,
"He called me an old hag again!"
The Headmaster promptly slapped Reno across the face,
"Why did you do that, you worthless brat? How many times do we have to tell you that if you're not here with us, you're dead?!"
Reno stuck out his tongue,
"They probably give you better food in heaven!"
He was slapped again. So hard it knocked him over and made the corner of his lip bleed. If he had half a gil for every time he was slapped to the floor, he wouldn't have to live in this crummy orphanage anymore. Reno only glared at the Headmaster in defiance from the floor. The headmaster always expected the child he was slapping to become more obedient after the beating, and it usually worked. However, it never seemed to work on Reno, in fact, it seemed to make Reno just more defiant each time. This angered the headmaster.
He grabbed him from the wrist and pulled him violently to his feet. He dragged him back to the dinning hall, where this day's trouble began for the young redhead.
All the children, about fifty of them, watched silently as the he was dragged in. Even the kids who were picking on Gray stopped in favor of watching. Besides, unless you wanted to be whipped good by the Headmaster's belt, you kept your mouth shut when he came in the room.
That's another rule Reno refused to obey.
When the Headmaster reached the center of the room, he yanked the boy's hand up, showing the helpless kid to the whole orphanage,
"Does anyone else here have any complaints about the food we bring you in this house of the gods?!" He bellowed.
The kids cowered into their plates, not eating, but trying not to look disgusted by their contents. It wasn't like they should expect to be treated like kings in this place, but there was a minimum even they knew they needed to eat.
Upon receiving no reply, the Headmaster yanked the boy's arm again. He addressed the assembly of children with his bellowing voice,
"How many times do I have to remind you, wretches?! You are here because you are children of sin! Children of Lilith! The gods may have over looked your miserable lives, but we shall make sure that your sin is never forgotten!!"
"What a load of crap!" Reno squealed, wriggling his hand free from the Headmaster's iron grip, "Sin?! You old fart! No matter how we were born, we're still better than shit like you!"
He tried to kick the Headmaster in the shin and missed. In turn, the Headmaster became very upset. He grabbed Reno by the collar of his tattered shirt and lifted him.
"You cursed brat!" He hissed, then yelled so all the children will hear, "Being born was sin enough! Your mother was raped, and instead of killing her demon spawn like she should have, she left you with us! Your mother was a Lilith, and you're a piece of shit that even the gods don't bother with! You should be thankful for the food and shelter you receive here, you worthless brat!" He turned to the other children, and they cringed, "Work here and serve the gods! Do not let sin taint your hearts like what happened to this poor boy!" He waved Reno around, showing everybody.
"The gods don't care shit about us, and you don't care shit about anything but the money we make from those stupid chairs!"
Another slap.
He was dropped unfeelingly to the floor and the Headmaster left.
Reno was later whipped and then sent to the dorms without food.
The main reason why Headmaster Seril hated Reno so much was that Reno was extremely intelligent for his age; in fact, he was probably even more intelligent than Seril himself. Also, Reno's piercing green eyes gave the impression that they could see right through you, and it was often true. He would often see things that others tried to hide, or understand complex things from only a few clues.
Seril hated him with passion, and Reno returned the feeling tenfold.
The children slept on terribly uncomfortable beds, but they were more than they would find on the streets, so they slept in them. What more, if you tried to escape, the faculty wasn't too afraid to unleash the dogs.
"Is that what really happened to you mom?" Gray asked Reno. Gray was a big boy, he wasn't that bigger than Reno in terms of age, but he was bigger physically than most of the kids in the orphanage. He was here from such a young age that no one knew his real name. His nickname 'gray' was given to him because of his hair, which was a dark shade of gray from birth. One of his eyes was blue-gray and the other kind of brownish-gray.
Him and Reno were good friends. Gray would keep the younger Reno from getting into too much trouble when he could, and the overly hot headed Reno would get into fights with whoever picked on Gray because of his appearance.
"Huh?" Reno's thoughts were elsewhere; somewhere between the dark land of sulking and the fiery land of revenge.
"I asked if that's really what happened…? What Seril told…?"
Reno pouted and crossed his hands over his chest. He was laying on his back in his bed, with Gray laying stomach down in the next.
"Yeah." Reno muttered, "dropped me here when I was four. Said she couldn't stand to see me anymore. Said I was a burden that wasn't worth the money she spent on me."
Gray raised his brows, "She actually told you that?"
"No, but she kept muttering it to herself all the time." He then turned to his friend and his expression softened. Gray always managed to calm his temperamental nature, "What about you? I don't think I ever actually asked you…!"
Gray smiled his small smile. Apart from being a boy of little words, he rarely showed emotions as well. Too much time in this hellhole, Reno always thought.
"I don't know. Seril just said they found me on the doorstep of this place when I was still a baby."
There was a moment of silence. Reno estimated he had a few more seconds before lights out.
"Hey…"
"Hmm?"
"I'm not worthless." Reno announced for no apparent reason. Gray smiled at him,
"Us being friends gives us worth enough, doesn't it?" He said.
Reno smiled at him. It was rare to see him smile, just as his friend, since he was usually busy with being angry at the world.
Mary came in and shut the lights and any remaining conversations.
The orphanage was in Liverside, also known as Sector one of Midgar. No one called it Liverside anymore because it was such a stupid name. A lot of wood was being cut from the nearby forest to fuel the weapon company's endeavors. The weapon company was still pretty young, and was doing whatever it could to gain foothold in a competitive market. They called themselves 'Shinra Inc.'. The recent war between Wutai and Shinra left many orphans, and many bastards; both of Wutain and Western mothers.
Shinra Inc. also gave the orphanage all the spare wood that was left for free. It was cheaper than having it disposed of, anyway. Those spare pieces of wood were in turn built into simple chairs. The kids made them with their little hands, and then the Headmaster would take the finished chairs away and sell them to sustain the place.
Reno liked making them. He liked working with his hands, liked the smell of sawdust and the rough feel of the wood. His sharp mind, though, was not content because he knew that most of the revenues weren't really going back into the orphanage, as they should, but rather… disappearing on the way from the customer to the kids.
Reno hated that.
Since he liked the wood so much, he managed to steal a piece of wood with him back to the dormitory. It was pretty long- about the length of his entire arm, and just thick enough so he could hold it firmly.
He also stole a chisel.
Another part of the orphanage's income came from people adopting the kids. They had a lineup every Sunday, and people could come and look them over. Of course, the lineup took place in the main hall, which was always clean and tidy (The children cleaned that, too). Not to mention that they suddenly received clothes that weren't tattered and they had to get cleaned and washed or else they wouldn't be allowed to be in it.
Reno always hoped that he would be taken away from this place. it was his dream since he could remember himself. In his dreams he saw a nice lady with soft hands patting his head. And she gave him hugs and patted him on the head again, and helped him button a clean shirt. Reno was terrible at buttoning. However, his volatile temper and spunky, rarely combed, rarely cleaned, battered look made possible parents harder to find. Some of the friends he had made through the years were adopted. Just more salt on his wounds, he thought. Still, he had Gray with him, though he always feared that he'd be taken away from him too.
Someday a nice pair of people will come and take him and Gray away, he would fantasize. Then they could be real brothers and go to fun places and have fun. The kids that were adopted were probably special in some way. Because, although Reno knew that he was different from most of the other kids because he thought quicker than them, but still, he was never taken from this place, never saved.
Feh, 'saved'... He sounds like a damsel in distress. Reno hated feeling small and weak and... Worthless. That was his life here; worthless. He knew he could do more than making silly chairs. He liked it, sure, as a freaking hobby. He didn't know what he wanted to do, but that's not it.
Maybe be a carpenter. That way he could make anything from wood... That sounded nice.
There, he found his calling in life! Carpenters were respectable people that people liked and thought good things about.
The event that changed his life started out as just another little prank of his; it was P.E., as in to say, the really big, scary janitor would shout and scream at them and they would run and run in circles.
Reno slowly got annoyed as his head was getting slowly dizzy: there had to be some other way to get them in shape! What about all them ball games they would play sometimes? Not only were they a lot funner, but they seemed to be more healthy than this- if a kid were to fall, the janitor would scream at him until he got up again. If the kid fainted, then the janitor would just scream at him until he got up again.
Very educational, Reno thought. He figured that the muscles needed other things to get fit. All the lactic acids Reno read about in the paper and stuff. They needed to get out, didn't they? And they needed to have warm up before, Reno always did a few stretches before ball games and he never got cramps like the other kids did. That didn't mean that Reno wasn't worse than bad at them.
So, today he thought of making P.E. a little funner.
They were currently running in circles in the inner court; a junkyard with some space in the middle between the wood shack and the tool storage.
Reno nimbly leapt aside, and before the janitor could start screaming, he leapt on some crates and junk straight to the roof of the wood shack.
The janitor was yelling his head off by now, but Reno was having tons of fun. The other kids were cheering and laughing and Reno gave a deep bow before starting to run along the tin shingles. They stopped running a little, at least, as the Janitor's attention was on him, and that by itself was worth the effort.
Gray was smiling, yelling words of caution and encouragement. Yay! At least it broke the tedious, boring, freaking running in circles!
"You worthless piece of shit!" The janitor hollered. This made Reno turn around- he hated it when people said that! And for some reason a lot of people called him this lately. He had just the smartest retort on the tip of his tongue, too...
He turned around to receive a well-aimed rock to his shoulder. The original aim was to his head. He gave out a shout as he was knocked from the roof. The last thought he had before the ground greeted him into a world of black pain was 'They think I'm a pigeon or somethin'?!'
The
pain was always there. Was there a morning in his young life in which he did
not wake up in pain?
If it wasn't a stiff neck or back from the bed, it was the calluses from the
workshop, and if not that or that, then he was still sore from the last fight.
Oh, and sometimes he couldn't really sit very well if the Headmaster's belt had
a rendezvous with his butt.
He probably liked it on some level, since most of his adult life he woke up to hangovers...
He wasn't surprised to wake up in the workshop- most punishments included restricting the infidel in the workshop and doubling his work quota.
He gathered, from how pissed the janitor was, that his punishment is double quota and half the food. Probably half the sleep hours, too.
Since there wasn't a lot for him to do now, he grabbed his chisel and took out the piece of wood from the other day. He started carving it, just out of lack of anything better to do with his time until all the other kids will have to work.
The stick, just a piece of boring wood a few days before, was slowly transforming into a work of art. Reno sure didn't know a lot about art in his young age and little experience, but he sure did know that he was on to something as it came along.
He just followed his heart when creating it. He didn't really think each time his chisel went up with sawdust. He carved roads and bumps and swirls and little stripes and little squares.
The workshop was a part of the main complex, and was a really big room with lines upon lines of worktables and chairs. Every day from 10am to 3pm they worked there, and each group had a different job. Gray, older and stronger than most, had to cleave with an axe large pieces of wood into smaller pieces that the other children could work with.
Some other kids that Reno never bothered with because they were dufisis, took the wood from point A, where Gray and the older kids hacked away, to point B, being just a large pile of wood.
The next batch of kids took from the pile and carved legs for the chairs from a pre-designed pattern. No one but the really really really new kids had to look at the pattern anymore.
Some other kids took from the pile for the seat and others for the back of the chair. Then they brought their labor to next batch of children who would assemble the parts and try really really hard for it not to fall to pieces.
The last batch was the underground. The children called it that because they weren't supposed to actually do that.
Reno invented the underground; they would take small splinters of wood and make little slits in both sides of the part- that way the chairs were a lot sturdier. And sometimes the Headmaster would come to see if they were doing good work and he would violently grab one of the fresh chairs and play with it to see if it would fall apart. Before the underground, they almost never failed to break, but you should have seen the look on the Headmaster's face when the first batch didn't collapse! He was furious because he couldn't yell at them and insult them. The underground also gave refuge to the smallest children. Children like Reno himself, to whom physical activity was a terrible thing that they were bad at, and they were weak. You just to be nimble there; you never had to beat anything into place. The underground children, seven in all, looked up to Reno as a leader. Not only was he more daring than most of them, he looked at them as equals, and not inferiors, like all the other children. They were smart kids, and that's all Reno needed to make better, more comfortable and stronger chairs.
So on one of Reno's detention days (There were ten of them), when Reno's shoulder was especially annoyingly painful, he was busy with the underground folk when the Headmaster decided he just right now had to surprise the children and grace them with their his stinking presence.
Needless to say that he wasn't happy to see the weakest, and in his opinion, the most useless of the children in his rabble tampering with the finished chairs. And if Reno was with them, they had to be up to some mischief.
Reno got up and rushed all the other underground members away before the Headmaster could get a positive ID. Reno was lost, so there wasn't any need for all of the others to get whipped, eh? Besides, he was stronger than they were; they might brake under the interrogation.
Reno broke into a smile in spite of himself, feeling like some sort of guerilla warrior from a comics book.
"Wipe that snicker from your lips, brat!" A mighty backhand knocked him to the floor. ...If he had half a gil...
"What devilry were you up to now?!" He bellowed, glad to have caught Reno in the act. The later was back to his feet, ignoring his aching shoulder.
"Devilry your ass, old fart! I'm filling the gaps in your impotent chair designs, is all!"
He was slapped back to the floor and then yanked up by the collar of his shirt until he didn't touch the ground.
"You and who else were touching the chairs? Who?"
Reno laughed without humor, but with a lot of mischief,
"I'll never talk! You'll have to kill me first! Viva la resistance! I don' know nothin'! Ci al progresso! Power to the people!"
He was smacked again and hoisted out of the room.
Gray sighed heavily as happy yells of 'libertad, pacos!' and 'Workers of the world: unite!' sounded through the halls.
"D'you think he'll tell on us?" Miro, one of the underground, timidly asked his friends.
"Not likely." Gray smiled fondly at them, and they were in awe that an older kid would talk to them. He said, "Reno's not all talk. He'll drive the Headmaster insane before he'll betray his friends.
In the evening Reno was tossed back into the workshop.
"I'd advise you to reconsider you defiance, devil boy." The headmaster warned him, finally regaining his temper at Reno's silence. More correctly, at Reno incessant talking about The Great Revolution and silly protest songs of revolutions past.
Where did he learn them, anyway?
"What are you going to do to me, buttface? Starve me to submission?!"
Jeesh, he was hungry.
He just had to say that, didn't he?
There was a gentle rap on the locked door of the workshop, and Reno painfully got up from the corner and opened the small hatch, barely in his reach up high in the door.
A pack landed on his head from it.
"Ouch!"
As if he wasn't beaten up already.
"Hush." He heard Gray from across the door, "Some contraband for the rebel." Reno could detect the slight note of disapproval in his friend's voice. Gray was never the one to openly disobey the Headmaster. He hated him like everybody else, but didn't believe that openly confronting him and getting beaten leads to any gain.
"Viva la resistance? You're getting into more trouble by the day, Ren."
Reno chuckled,
"Hey, check this out!" He slid the carved rod through the hatch, and heard Gray gasp,
"Where'd you get this? This must be worth a pretty gil!"
Reno actually laughed,
"I made it."
There was an impressed 'pshhh...' from behind the door, and Reno straightened with pride.
"Make me one too?"
"Sure!"
With that, Gray left.
Reno unpacked the small loaf of bread from it's wrapping cloth and proceeded to plop on the floor, lean on the door and devour the food.
Nice to have good friends, eh?
The next few days of Reno's detention were quiet, and Gray and the underground kids brought him food.
It was Saturday. That didn't mean anything particular for the children, and there was no reason why it should.
It was mid morning and the chairs were continuing to be made.
Reno, a black mark on one of his high cheekbones and who knows how many more all over his body, acted as if nothing had happened while he and the underground carried on with tending to the finished chairs.
"Are you sure we should keep on doin' this?" Mori asked timidly.
Reno scoffed, "I see no reason why not, it made them stronger and that means that that idiot can't break'em so easily."
"Why does he break them, anyway?"
"To spite us, probably." Reno frowned, "And to make us work harde-" His head snapped up and he looked to where a commotion was starting. The children around Reno cowered, as fearing to get burnt by the fire that erupted in his eyes. His hair seemed to become brighter, if possible.
They were picking on Gray again. Reno's eyes radiated pure rage and he got up and marched to the gang of older, taller, stronger kids despite Mori's meek protests.
"You're too high and mighty to answer his question, ah? ah?"
One of them shoved Gray shoulders, picking a fight with all the corny means, "You're too good for trash like us, is that what you're saying, ah?"
Gray knew that when the kids were in that mood, everything he'll say would be turned against him, including his silence.
They didn't even look at Reno when he approached. They should have been used to him, by now, but they weren't picking on Gray because they were smart.
"Freakboy doesn't know how to talk!" They sang, pushing him around. "Freakboy doesn't know how to talk!"
Gray had a faint smile on his lips at the stupidity of the situation, but he didn't try to stop them or resist the tease.
It's only when one of them was shoved forward did they turn to see the petit Reno smirking at them with an expression Gray knew is going to lead to a fight.
"Pick on someone who wants a fight, worthless pieces of shit that you are."
It seemed to anger them being called such as it did Reno himself, and he smiled wider. Now, at least, they forgot Gray.
The poor pacifist, as Reno often called him.
He would go too far in his desire of a peaceful existence. And even though the regular bullies knew that he would never rise to the challenges, they still tried.
"You wanna fight, shrimp?!"
Reno rolled his eyes; exchanging verbal blows with logs was soo boring.
"No. I just said 'someone who wants a fight' so you would go outside and ask people if they happened to want a fight."
They took a moment, trying to understand if that meant yes or no, until they decided to play it safe,
"You're asking to be spanked, little baby."
"The baby is you, picking a fight 'cause you're bored."
It wasn't even much of an insult, but since he said it like it was, and they were too stupid and used to insults to even notice, they reverted to violence.
Their leader kicked at Reno, but the later bounced out of range.
"What, you a rage penguin that go jumpin' around?!" He punched and hit Reno in the stomach. The later doubled over slightly, and fell to his knees.
Gray silently approached Reno and bent by his side.
"Let it be, Ren." He pleaded in a whisper, a hand on Reno's shoulders. But it was too late, the wide streak of Reno's vindictive spirit was struck, and the golden liquid of revenge tinted his hot blood.
He got up and gently shoved Gray aside. The later knew that look in his friend's eyes all too well and dejectedly stepped down.
The other children watched.
The leader kicked again, but suddenly he was on his knees and holding his stomach.
By the time the attention was back on Reno, he was replacing something under his shapeless shirt with a smug smile.
Even Gray was amazed at the speed this fight was over. Reno would usually come out the bitter looser, figuratively licking his wounded paws as growling. Now he returned to his underground folk almost unscratched.
The bullies helped their hurt leader out the door in silence, sending Reno mean glares.
Gray placed a gentle palm on Reno shoulder; his way of saying thanks, and Reno shot him a smile; his way of saying that it was worth it.
But all the fuzzy feeling of victory in Reno's gut vanished when the bullies returned with the Headmaster, only happy to find another reason to make Reno's life more miserable.
Before he could even gather his legs and run he was being lifted from the collar again. He kicked and fought, but couldn't even reach the Headmaster as the later held him at arm's length.
"Let me down, you pathetic excuse for a clerk!"
It was the wrong thing to say, and he received an ear ringing slap.
"He hit me with something hard, Mr. Headmaster, sir!!"
Suckup.
While the Headmaster's far from gentle hand looked Reno's shirt over, he yelled at the bully, body still wriggling in the grip,
"Oh, you big crybaby! It wasn't hard at all! If I wanted to hurt you you'd still be on the floor!" It was a silly and small thing to say, but what Mr. bully was doing was even worse: You didn't tattletale here. Each time Reno got into trouble with them, he would never tell, and unless it was Sister Mary or the Janitor that came to separate the flame-haired ball of rage from whoever it was he was hitting, they never knew (or cared, for that matter) about fights.
Much to Reno's horror, the Headmaster fished The Stick and looked it over. In Reno's dreams, the Headmaster would say something in the lines 'Oh, deary my. Reno, my boy, you have some talent! I say, lets give you have some more artistic freedom, eh?'
The slap across the face with the stick was a far cry from his dreams. He was knocked to the floor, his lower lip bleeding.
"What is this piece of crap?!" He hollered at the top of his lungs, his hand closed tightly around Reno's stick, "This is what you've done with you time you heap of muck?! He kicked Reno in the stomach, making him grunt and huddle into a tight ball of pain.
Gray threw caution to the wind and got to his friend's side.
For some reason the Headmaster's wrath was unstoppable and uncontrollable, and Gray knew unfairness and cruelty when he saw them so clearly as they appeared now. Seril even dared to slap Gray. The latter's head jerked aside and back so sharp he nearly toppled backwards.
"Stay away from that demon spawn!" He commanded, "Let him crawl on the floor like a snake of venom that he is! Like a worm!"
Still, Reno managed to writher just enough to extend a pale, scrawny hand at the Headmaster,
"...Give it... back...!" He whizzed. The Headmaster's anger at Reno's art seemed to have made this kick quite damaging. He would never hit any kid hard enough to disable him. He couldn't work if he was bleeding.
"You want it back?!" The Headmaster waved the stick, probing Reno teasingly with it. Then he grinned wickedly and snapped the stick easily on his knee. Reno's eyes went as wide as they could, pure disbelief in them. He never thought that even the Headmaster could be so cruel.
It
was the only thing that was his, which he had done on his own, for himself. All
of his quiet moments in the workshop, down the drain. The only thing he was
proud of...
He ruined it.
The Headmaster tossed the two remaining pieces on the immobile Reno.
He didn't remain still long after, though, he leapt to his feet and glared at the leaving Headmaster.
"You...! You...!" There were tears streaming down his face, "You'll pay for that!" He attacked with what little strength he had in him before Gray could stop him.
His lunge met the Headmaster's raised knee and he was knocked back to the ground, breathless and helpless. The tears didn't stop coming, and he didn't really try to stop them.
The Headmaster left a terrible silence in his wake. None of the children have yet to see such cruelty.
They watched the boy on the floor with silent grief. Even the bullies didn't intend it to go so far.
Reno was respected in the orphanage because he never gave up and would never fail to voice their complaints. He himself would never complain about the punishments he received.
He didn't even try to get up until Gray returned to his side, picking up the torn masterpiece and helping his sobbing friend up.
It changed everything.
The cruelness of the Headmaster was beyond what Reno could endure.
Up 'till now it was a game of defiance. Reno tried to cause as much trouble without actually hurting people; because he thought he was just as smart as the Headmaster, and he had a pretty good idea how way to run the place.
But he was wrong, he wasn't as smart.
He was smarter, and if nothing else, just because he wasn't so fundamentally cruel.
What he did was unforgivable.
But Reno sighed. There was nothing he could do. Gray needed him here.
Once, long ago, Reno wanted to run, but Gray said that life outside must be terribly hard, and refused to go with Reno.
So Reno stayed.
But as fate would have it, this was to be solved as well.
The next morning Reno was stirred to awareness from his spot in the corner of the workshop by harsh beatings on the door.
"Reno! Reno!" It was Gray, and Reno scampered to the door, still holding his stomach. He knew that Gray would only use his full name if it was something of terrible importance.
"I..!" Gray's voice was emotional and close to tears, and Reno glued himself to the door in an attempt to hear better. What could have possibly happen to his friend?!
"They...! I...! They're gonna take me away, Ren! These two nice people!! They...! His name is Rude, and hers' Celina!" He was on the verge of tears, "They picked me, but I'm gonna stay with you, ren...!" He started to sob, and Reno just stared at the door.
After a short moment, Reno gathered all his strength and said as cheerfully as he could.
"Go with them, Gray." Even with all his strength, he couldn't get it above a quite tone, "Leave!" He managed to shout, thanking the door for hiding his expression.
Gray was silent too after that remark. He whispered,
"But..."
"No buts!" Reno was on the verge of tears as well, but wouldn't let Gray hear it in his voice, "This is your one chance at happiness...! Don't miss it, Gray... Not for a worthless thing like me..." He sniffed once but quickly shook his head to stop the tears before they'll fall.
"Here." He said, slipping one half of the broken rod threw the hatch.
Gray took it.
"Thanks." He said, and not necessarily meant for the stick, "We'll meet again." He said with determination, the tears gone from his voice and replaced with resolve, "I promise."
"Yeah." Reno smiled at the door, "Now amscray."
Gray left, and Reno's expression hardened to steel.
He wasn't going to stay either.
Old Seril was so happy! Reno was silenced. For nearly a week he did not say a word or did a thing out of line. Finally, he had broken his spirit.
He hardly talked at all, not even to the other children. They regarded his with caution, not used to him being so... Lifeless.
He hardly ate, and slept with no blankets, even in the freezing cold of mid winter.
One evening, Mary came in and noticed two additional empty beds. Doing a mental calculation, she remembered that that's where she would usually see Gray and Reno.
Gray was gone now, but Reno...?
"Reno's gone!" She shrieked.
The Headmaster, the janitor and Sister Mary rushed outside and took out the dogs from the canal. Holding the black beasts from the reigns, they ran out into the windy night, calling the boy's name and cursing him vigorously.
When they'll find him, they'll give him the beating of his lifetime.
It was a clear night, and a cold one, at that. The stars were doing their 'twinkle-twinkle' act, and the moon was just the beginning of a Cheshire cat's smile. It gave a dull glow that made it exactly uncomfortable enough too see.
The
dogs started barking like crazy, and Seril could hardly hold them.
"Oh, what the hell..." He muttered, and pretended that the reigns
slid from his hand.
Let the curdog be eaten, it'll be the last thing to ruin his day.
The black dogs lunged forward, barking madly and disappearing around the bend
of the main building, towards the high walls that surround the place.
"Oh, dear!" Mary yelled, running after the mutts in an attempt to
stop them.
By
the time they reached the dogs, they were growling and tearing viciously at
something on the ground.
"Aah! I can't watch!" Mary covered her eyes and looked away.
The Headmaster tried to hide his hideous smirk as he stepped up to the dogs and booted them out of the way. He frowned at the terrible mess.
The dogs, now uninterrupted, leapt on the poor thing and devoured it easily, tearing cloth and squirting... something dark.
By morning, there wasn't a thing left.
By then, Reno managed to use the blankets he had stolen as a rope and get far from the wall, blankets in hand.
What were the dogs eating? All the food that Reno had stashed away, with the piece of cloth he used to carry it in.
Heheh...
He was free.
Free to get lost, that is.
He didn't stop just after getting out, he just kept running and running and running.
He
stopped, panting, and realized that he had run more than he did all his life.
The half falling sign that read 'Welcome to Splatterville' showed him the way
into sector 4.
It was mid morning, and Reno glanced back, where, were he still in the orphanage, he would have seen the clock tower.
He actually yelled with joy when he didn't see it.
Passerbys gave the lonely child a strange look.
But he didn't care.
He was lonely, though.
Without Gray, life seemed... Worthless.
The first couple of days were spent exploring. Each night he'd sleep in a different alley, and all the next day he would wonder around, trying to learn the territory. Food came from stealing and drink came from buckets under air conditioners. Shinra Inc. made them.
Hey, if it was good enough for cats to drink from, it was good enough for a street-rat like him.
The second week arranged him an appointment with the local homeless and thugs. They wanted to know who was the new person prowling their turf.
"Yo, firehead!" their leader cornered Reno in an alley. Behind the leader stood three bullies. At first glance, Reno was certain The leader and the bullies from the orphanage were in front of him; all bullies are equally pathetic, in his eyes.
"I'm Gomas, you new to these parts, kiddo?"
"I ain't no 'kiddo', punk." Reno retorted, giving them suspicious looks. It wouldn't do to be shy or show any weakness at the first meeting, "I'm new, but I know my way around."
The bullies snickered. Why? Because if they were smart, they wouldn't have become bullies.
"If you know your way, kiddo, then you gotta know which allies are ours."
Reno gave a short, humorless bark of laughter. It was hard acting tough when those kids were twice his height.
"Ya, I saw some slimy ones on the way."
Now it was the thugs' turn to laugh,
"You're funny, brat. If you'll do some... errands for us, we might let you in the Gang."
He gave them the finger. Come rain or shine, he's gonna be free here, with nothing and no one pushing him around, ruining things for him.
He can ruin things for himself just fine, thank you.
This, surprisingly enough, made them laugh.
"You think you can do good on your own, you little brat? This is your alley- don't dare to step into ours until you'll come on all four to let you into the Gang."
"Okay, so if this is my turf- amscray!"
They -oh-how-surprisingly-surprising- laughed, and left.
Reno looked at the alley he was in. It was huge. It was a 'clearing' of some sort between several tall buildings and the sector's inner pillar. The apostrophizes near the word Clearing are there because although the space itself was a few dozen feet across, most of it was occupied by the largest pile of metal debris and machine parts Reno had ever seen. It had to be at least two dozen feet all the way to the top. Beside the huge mound of refuge were about two square feet of space, which in turn were occupied by a dark puddle.
It was the mound or the puddle.
The alley was pretty dark; though it was nothing new under the plate. Reno hurled himself a few pieces up the pile and it crumbled and dissolved under his feet. He fell on his behind near the puddle.
He tried again.
He couldn't explain it, but something was telling him to get to the top of this pile of garbage. Maybe it was the symbolism in it all; the individual fighting the machine, the single have-not, struggling against a heartless society, trying to reach the top of the place at the price of an aching behind. Or maybe it was just boredom.
It took young Reno eight hours.
Eight hours in which he did not sleep nor eat nor drink. He single-mindedly made his way to the top. Letting nothing but gravity stop him. He also took great care in remembering which part could support his weight and lead to the next part that wouldn't crumble. It was a slippery path, and a dangerous one. It took him practically all the way around the mound and then back again.
After those hard eight hours, he did it.
He was on the top of the mound, and he was feeling great.
Well, frankly, he was more exhausted and frustrated than a salmon whom never received the cancel mail that said, 'no upstream meeting this year!' since the way up should take, now that he knew the way, around a minute at a good pace.
Reno stood firm on the top, looking up as a single ray of sunshine, probably the only one in the whole sector, greeted him with a pollution-hazed warmth. It fell from between the plate and the rooftops of the hundreds of buildings. Somehow, in a strange coincidence, only this ray of light made it through the labyrinth. If Reno could fly, he could follow that ray of light to the open. He never saw anything but Midgar; his birthplace. He stared at the sun fixedly, as if trying to stare it down. The light that fell on his head set it ablaze in a vibrant red that would have been nicer if his hair was clean. Pollution, with all it's bad things, made the sun a ball of dark orange flame, so dull and muddled that there no danger to the eyes.
His green eyes watched the light, reflecting the sun and making it look as if swimming in a sea of green. He narrowed his eyes, as if daring the sun to do something not to his liking, daring it to a staring contest.
And indeed, after a few moments the sun faded, leaving the alley in a golden, murky haze.
After that, Reno knew, he could take on anything.
After several years, he could clime the mount in less than a minute.
Young Reno was now sixteen. He grew long and tall, and his hair a waist long mane of flame. His green eyes stayed the same; piercing in their look and smart beyond their years. He was a young man now, and his lanky limbs were strong and agile. He grew serious, but kept the spark of contempt and mockery well lit.
He probably could have made a pretty gil, if he set his mind to it, but as it turned out, he had a thing about authority.
He just hated it. He had yet to find a grownup he could respect, and he never worked for anyone he couldn't respect.
All them bosses and shop owners and even mafia folk who thought they were so great, when in fact they were all dufisis. He would get odd jobs here and there, trying to find something to get good at and make a normal living, but he would always end up having better ideas how things should work, and it always led to arguments with the boss because he refused to admit tiny redhead had a point. He tried going to Shinra Inc., now calling itself a Mako energy company, but they took one look at his clothes and laid back appearance and sent him away, threatening to call security if he made any trouble. He didn't like his existence any better now, though. He was happy to be free, but the heavy weight of loneliness made him feel like a dead weight. Just hanging on the outskirts of society and making no difference. No one, not since he was born, cared if he lived or died. He felt... Jeesh, how he hated to admit it... Worthless. Doing nothing, gaining nothing, affecting nothing.
Everyone saw him as a homeless bum; someone who just didn't cut it, which was below normal citizens. But he wasn't...! He was Reno, and he wanted people to know what it meant. His life was never easy; if he weren't out looking for food, he was busy trying to live past the next fight with the various gangs who tried to take over his tiny home, or he was giving the authorities the slip. The winters were freezing, and the summer chokingly hot.
…And he was lonely. Lonely like he never was in his life. He had no friends, only enemies. He didn't want to return to the orphanage or any other institute, though- not while he breathed.
So Reno stayed on the street, earning in just enough money to get by. Sometimes, when the going was tough, he would resort to pick-pocketing or stealing. Once he tried to find some wood and start carving for a living, but without Gray...? He just had no inspiration anymore.
Someone once saw his half of the stick and offered him 200 gil for it.
200 gil! He could really get a start in life with 200 gil in these parts. But he could part with the stick only if he could part with his other sole possession: his life.
So unless someone was going to rid him that, he's keeping the damn stick. It's not that it was a dead weight or something; Reno brought it to good use. The small inevitable skirmishes between Reno and the Gang, or even once or twice with the Mafia, brought about the full potential of the stick as a striking weapon, and Reno soon became very good at using it in creatively damaging way.
He liked his home, though, and never thought of renting anything.
He was climbing to it now. It took him less than a minute to nimbly jump from piece to piece. He stopped halfway to smile a wicked smile downwards,
"Hey, hey! This is my alley! Amscray, punk!"
Gomas waved a fist at Reno, knowing well enough that chasing the redheaded up the pile demon was useless, and led only to embarrassment. No one managed to climb it except Reno.
"Ya $^^%@ing piece of crap! Next time you come into our territory we'll kick your scrawny butt all the way to sector 7!"
Reno never liked sector 7 much.
"You're all talk, you fartfaced moron! And you better take care of Yojimbo! He's gonna need a crutch for a while...!"
"^%%& you, and ^%$# your $%^@ing stick!" Gomas grabbed some pieces of garbage from the floor and threw them towards Reno. The later chuckled and skipped nimbly the rest of the way up towards home.
It was made of tin, and quite smartly so. The roof was tilted towards that single ray of light that would come each day at summer around 3pm, and at winter around 5pm. That way, at winter, the roof would warm the walls, and the small hut will stay warm through a cold night.
At summer, he would use smart leather straps and separate the ceiling from the walls, and the walls from each other. That way the warmth would not spread, and he could still use the roof if he needed to warm water for a bath or something. A nice breeze came through the cracks between the walls, and cool Reno on smothering nights.
In his hut he would keep all the little trinkets he gathered through time.
Mostly, he would stash there a lot of little wooden figures. None of them were very impressive, but he either liked them too much, or simply no one else would buy them from him.
He made good money through a mixture of thievery and woodcarving. Good enough money to buy a little food and sometimes a good beer. A new chisel here and there and the simplest clothes fitting a growing young man.
One of the targets he had made for himself when he just started out on his own, is to never let stupid jerks like the Gang (Stupid name, too.) gain power and terrorize decent thieves like himself.
So he would steal from them from time to time. Nothing major, just little things that they really didn't want anyone else having.
He didn't want to start a war or anything, since he would probably loose right away. He was alone, while there were a lot of them.
Today he was scanning the surrounding alleys from a roof. He liked tall places, and nobody asked him to share his dinner if it would mean for them to climb up four stories, right?
He was pretty far from his home, and well inside the Gang's territory.
Reno just finished his loaf of bread when he saw something curious:
Gomas was standing in a side alley right beneath the building Reno was on, looking with anticipation towards the alley's entrance. The thug checked "his" watch constantly and fingered something in his shirt's pocket.
Heading most definitely towards the alley was a tall man in a dark suit.
A clean dark suit.
An outsider. Someone important.
Reno figured some sort of exchange was about to take place. Now he was curious.
Nimbly, he bounced down the building, using drainpipes and window ledges and generally looking like a redheaded lizard going reverse.
He dropped to a hunched posture behind Gomas, making no sound whatsoever. He narrowed his eyes when he noticed that Gomas' hand that wasn't in his pocket was playing with an attack knife.
"Are you planning to kill that person?" Reno asked, stepping from the shadows into the light of the single lamppost beside Gomas.
The later, out of surprise and tension, hurled the knife at Reno, and he dodged with a curse.
"%#&^, Reno! Don't sneak up on %^%@ing agitated people!" Reno chuckled humorlessly and picked up the knife, measuring it's weight in his palm.
"Killing will bring Shinra's Investigation team here. It's trouble for all of us." He said.
"I don't give a %^@." Gomas said, looking warily to the alley's entrance before continuing, "This is some major shit, not the smalltime crap you like to live in." he patted his pocket, "This here that I got, Shinra wants it. Gonna send a person here with enough cash to give the Gang weapons to rule this sector. So stand back, $%^#head."
So the man in the suit was from Shinra...
"What's the knife for, then?"
"Just for protection." Gomas said, then patted his other pocket, "I got the real thing in here. I figured; why not keep the dough and the madicin- I mean, stuff?"
Gomas was actually that stupid? He probably stole some new Heal Materia from a competing company, and Shinra wanted to analyze it in order to kill that company, as they did to most.
Reno scoffed and walked up to the Gang leader, giving him his knife back,
"If you'll mess with Shinra, that's your life that their gonna take. But I can let you drag the whole sector down with you. If you kill a Shinra employee, you're going to be in some deep shit, and all us innocent folk, too."
He turned and left, hands in the pockets of his patched pants.
Once he cleared the corner of the alley, he broke into a mad run.
A few dozen feet later he looked back to see if Gomas had noticed already when he crashed into a pole.
Reno landed on his behind rubbing his forehead vigorously.
Damn, first time his peripheral sight failed him.
Reno stopped cursing and rubbing when he noticed the boots.
They were shiny and black. The pants above them were ironed perfectly and dark blue.
It wasn't a pole Reno had crashed into, it was the Shinra man.
Reno looked up slowly and met the blank look of pitch black sunglasses and a stern-lined mouth. He was built like a brick, and didn't even fall a step back when Reno had crashed into him.
This was no mere Shinra Employee; this a goddamn Turk!!
"Sorry!" Reno bolted to his feet.
Just in time too, since Gomas was running up from the alley. Reno cursed and started running away.
"He stole it!" Gomas yelled at the Turk, "The little %^#@ stole it!"
Turk cursed and started after Reno as well.
Why did Reno do it? Because he had no problem with giving the Turk the thing, as long as the Gang was kept out of trouble.
They were so stupid! What were they thinking?! Killing a damn Turk will make the place a Shinra Forces nest, and all the homeless and the not well off will be hassled and probably, eventually, killed.
Reno, for now, had to get to talk to the Turk without Gomas' interruption. Reno was panting and cursing as he skidded into another street. Turks were really good, you know? He was actually gaining on Reno!
"Listen!" Reno yelled, feeling his strength draining and seeing that Gomas was still on the Turk's tail, "I wanna give you the stupid thing, but that idiot wants money for it! I don't want him to come!" Reno thought that mentioning 'he also wants to kill you' will lead to no good.
The huge Turk frowned without brows. His head was completely bald.
Reno slowed down to a stop, the Turk a few feet from him, face expressionless.
"Look," Reno produced the Materia from his pocket, and looked up into the muzzle of a black gun, "Hey!" He raised his hands, showing the Materia. The silent Turk probably thought he was pulling a weapon.
"I don't want it!" Reno said, "All I want is no trouble. I'll give you this if you'll let me go."
The Turk hesitated, and by now Gomas had caught up, panting hard. Reno had to run again. He ha d to have a few more words before Gomas would reach for his knife.
The nuzzled wavered slightly as the Turk acknowledged the man behind him.
Reno took the opportunity to smack the gun away and run. That way, by the time the man would stabilize himself, Reno would be well ahead.
"I need to talk to you without that idiot!" He called to the pursuing Turk, and ignored the cursing from Gomas' direction.
He scurried into another alley, and then another. Hoping that the Turk had seen him come in, and not the stupid Gang-ster.
He was right, but the Turk was faster than he had anticipated and was upon him just as he entered the alley. Being too close for the gun, the Turk attempted to hit Reno with the hilt. The redhead managed to dodge, and quickly produced his stick.
They exchanged blows at a dazzling rate, and for the first time in years Reno was outmatched. He only realized it when a fist connected with the middle of his chest and sent him, back first, into the alley's wall.
"Jeesh!" He panted hard, holding a hand to his chest and returning the stick to his pocket, "You're good!"
"No." He spoke, and his voice was deep and gruff, "I'm a Turk."
Reno chuckled and tossed the green Materia to the now surprised Turk.
He caught it and Reno thought he could see his brows wrinkling with suspicion. He pocketed the thing and said awkwardly,
"You're not too bad yourself."
"That moron wanted to kil-"
"Die!!!"
Gomas was standing at the only entry to the alley, a gun in his shaking hands. So that was what he had in his other pocket!!
Reno couldn't explain what came over him. It wasn't thought that guided him, it was instinct.
He jumped the Turk, and the later was too surprised to even react. Reno's jump twirled the two of them around just as a single shot pierced the night chill, and Reno's back.
Otherwise it would have most certainly had killed the Turk.
The later looked in complete surprise at the limp body in his arms, and didn't even look up when he fired at Gomas, killing him before he could fire another shot.
Still, the redhead in his arms didn't move, a single dark circle in his back.
When Reno woke up he thought he'd go blind with all the whiteness.
When his eyes adjusted to the light and white, he realized he was in a hospital.
Aw, crap, he was feeling so terrible!
Every breath was pain, and he had one of them oxygen things on his mouth.
What happened?
Oh... He... He saved that Turk, didn't he? He was sure he'd just be left in the middle of the street if he did something stupid like that...
Man, he felt like something that crap poops...
He fell asleep again.
He woke up again, and he didn't have the thing on his mouth anymore.
It looked like noon, but he couldn't be sure; there was entirely too much light.
...Is he... above the plate?!
Impossible...
He sat up, wincing as his chest protested.
He was never in a hospital before. He once visited one, asking if they needed any helpers, but it was a sector 4 hospital, and it was under the plate so...
He was dressed in a terrible green robe, and there were all sorts of beeping machines around him.
Before he could make the painful mistake of trying to get up from the bed, the door opened and the same Turk that he had saved came in. He sat on a simple chair beside the bed and seemed to study Reno gravely: the sunglasses were fixed towards him.
Reno noticed that the Turk was around his own age, possibly a little older.
"Hi there, Turk-person-man." he said, feeling rather silly to be wearing just this green thing while the Turk had that smart-looking suit.
"My name's Rude." The Turk said gruffly. Rude? Why was that name familiar...?
Rude then proceeded to grab Reno from the neck and press him to the wall,
"Where did you get this?!" He growled.
Reno wriggled painfully in the choking grip, it took him several moments to notice what the angry Turk was holding in front of his face.
It was his stick.
What...?
"...None... of your business!" Reno wriggled some more, both his neck and his chest protesting the rough treatment. Still Rude pressed harder, his face contorting in anger,
"Where?!"
Reno could hardly breath, hardly make out the angry person in front of him,
"...I made the damn thing...!" He managed to choke out. The hand around his neck withdrew at once.
"Jeesh!" Reno rubbed his sore neck, coughing slightly, "Made the silly thing when I was seven- what's the big idea?"
Rude looked away briefly, then, much Reno's shock, reached up with one hand to take of his glasses, and the other produced something from his inner pocket.
Reno's eyes went as wide as they could,
"Gray!!"
Tell me what you think! This is all very experimental (This is a different style than my usual stories, I think), and I want to know if I should continue it. Please?