oxygen between their mighty mist knuckles. The smoke, and a considerably large amount
of towering flames, was rising from the underside of a 67’ ThunderCougarFalconBird,
which was widely accepted as the most masculine car that could be owned without
obtaining a special zoning permit. The smoke- and flames- had slightly less distance to
travel until they reached the sky than usual, seeing as the car was conveniently positioned
upside down, wheels pointed towards the heavens.
About ten feet away, with her hands down by her sides and her jaw dropped in absolute
shock, stood Yuffie Kisargi. She stared at the twisted shell of what used to be a muscle
car in abject horror, and momentarily wondered whether or not this would cause her
insurance to go up. She doubted it, considering it wasn’t even her car. And she didn’t
have a license. Or insurance.
Shadows bounced off to her left as a lone figure, lithe and pale, slowly made its way up
to her side. The figure happened to form the exact shape and color scheme of a man
known as Reno Tremaine, who was widely accepted as owning the most phallic weapon
that could be possessed that still packed enough power that it wasn’t allowed to be
openly commented on. He stood silently next to the newest Turk for several minutes, his
chest heaving slightly with every breathe, his eyes wide behind his crooked sunglasses.
Eventually, he reached down and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, sliding the
sole cancer stick from its pouch and tossing the entire remaining package over his
shoulder. He placed the cigarette between his lips and searched for his lighter for just a
few moments before realizing he had none. With a shrug he plucked the cylinder from his
mouth and approached the inferno that had once been a vehicle, extending the cigarette
so the tip brushed the middle of the flames, and instantly crumpled into glowing red
ember.
Yuffie watched him return to her side in awe and major irritation. She knew that when he
did speak, it wasn’t going to be good for her. In fact, it would probably involve her
mother, several references to dogs, and at least three recommendations of places she
could put her chakram- none of which being the custom made leather chakram holder she
had bought herself as a gift for securing a paying job at last.
That paying job, however, seemed in more danger than the family of groundhogs who
were even now burrowing ever down to escape the metal vessel of death that had landed
on their home. She tried to resist the urge to stare in open fear at Reno as he puffed on his
cigarette, failed utterly, and ended up visibly wincing when he finally ground the cancer
stick out on his sleeve and tossed it away.
“So,” he said, “looks like it’s going to rain.”
Yuffie stared at him, lost for words, and then simply nodded. When her non-verbal reply
didn’t seem to satisfy him, she vocalized it. “Uh-huh.”
“So that, uh, will probably put out the fire,” Reno continued, with that very fire dancing
off his sunglasses.
“...probably.” Yuffie agreed, happy to at least have proof that Reno realized there was a
car under all that fire.
“Did the gas tank already blow?” Reno asked, his voice continuing its maddening
steadiness.
“Not sure.” Yuffie said, trying to mimic his calm and failing utterly as her voice
practically broke on every syllable. “I blacked out a few times.”
“That’ll do it,” Reno said with an experienced nod, not really explaining what ‘it’ was.
“I’m just sayin’, cause if the tank didn’t already blow then we probably should take a few
steps back to avoid... you know... death.”
Yuffie stared at him. He stared back. As one, they both turned and stared at the car. With
a shrug, they took a few steps back.
“You know,” Reno said, “it’s sort of a shame.”
Here it is, Yuffie thought, with something surprisingly like relief. The guilt trip. The
yelling. The screaming. Possibly a few shoves, which would lead to slapping, which
would most likely lead to fire side wild sex which would ultimately lead to forgiveness.
“Look,” she said, the words spilling out of her, “I’m really sor-”
“-it was only a mile away from rolling over to ten thousand.”
Yuffie stopped, her jaw snapping shut. How the hell was she was supposed to respond to
that? Offer to buy him a car that was already at the nine thousand, nine hundred ninety
nine mile point? It wouldn’t be the same. Typical Reno would find something small that
would stop her apology for something big dead in its tracks.
“Are the keys still in it?” he asked.
“I... they... why?” Yuffie asked, eyeing him with the sudden thought that he might have
gone insane at the sight of his vehicles destruction.
“No real reason,” he said, reaching for another cigarette and finding his jacket empty.
Something about that seemed like the biggest tragedy of the day. “There is just a lot of
useful things you can do with keys. Lock doors. Unlock doors. Start cars. Slash
someone’s cheek open so they have cool little scars like me. Of course, I can only do one
of those things now. Unless the keys are still in the car. At which point I can do none of
them.”
Yuffie closed her eyes, her cheeks reddening. “I’m really, truly, very, sorr-”
Reno paused as she spoke and took a deep breath, “I wonder how much change was in
the ash tray.”
“Stop it!” Yuffie exploded, kicking him in the shin just for emphasis. He went down
cursing and clutching his assaulted limb, and in the mass of profanities and pain his
sunglasses came loose, falling beneath his shifting mass. There was an audible crunching
sound as he landed, achieving what a high speed collision with a dozen fists could not-
shattering his opticals. “Now listen... if you’re going to stop with all the asinine little
comments about your odometer and cheek slashing, I want to apologize for-”
“Apologize?” Reno roared from his spot on the ground. “Apologize!?” He pushed his
way up to his feet, his newly exposed eyes blazing in all their bloodshot splendor. “Do
you really think an apology can cover this? Do you really, truly believe that an apology
can take back all the damage you have caused here today? The lives you’ve ruined?”
Yuffie paused. “By lives, you mean yours, right?”
Reno glared at her. “Right.”
“Look,” Yuffie said, her arms wide in an act of submission. “I’m truly sorry I wrecked
your car.”
Reno stared at her like she had three eyes. And one of those eyes was Cloud Strife. So,
technically, she had a total of four eyes, since her third eye would be a whole other
person with two eyes of his own. “My car?” he said, a low chuckle rumbling into his
voice that was already filled with disbelief. “My car?? Who gives a flying fuck about my
car? You made me break my sunglasses!”
“So what!?” Yuffie cried, throwing her hands up. “That car looks like it would take at
least thirty killings and a kidnapping to buy! You found your sunglasses stuck to the
bottom of a movie theater seat by what we only hope was a mixture of blood and
chewing gum.”
“These glasses,” he uttered with a rumbling growl deep in his throat, “have got me more
action than that car ever could have.”
“Are you kidding?” Yuffie asked, glancing back at the car. “That is a hot car.”
“Literally,” Reno said quickly, and a little dryly, pressing his lips together. “Where were
you taking it, anyway? Your note just seemed to be a tangled mess of the words ‘taking’
and ‘turkey’...”
“I, uh,” Yuffie suddenly winced as she remembered her destination. “Was taking it to the
car lot. I needed to get Tseng a new car.”
“Oh.” Reno said, and then promptly burst out laughing, while the Wutain ninja glared at
him with her hands on her hips. She was forced to keep glaring for what turned out to be
an obscenely long time, as the red haired Turk eventually lost all the wind keeping him
up and collapsed to the dirt below, holding his sides and chuckling into the very earth.
“What,” Yuffie asked with a raised eyebrow, “is so god damn funny?’
“He wasn’t sending you to get a new car...” Reno said between deep gasps of breath, “he
was trying to kill you.”
Yuffie blinked. Swallowed. Blinked again. “What?”
“Oh, don’t take it personally...” Reno pushed up to his feet, wiping the dust from his suit,
but his hands had landed in a more unfortunate puddle of mud upon his landing, so in
effect he only succeeded in painting over the filth with filth. “He does it all the time.
Tried to bump me off twice last week. It’s his way of keeping us sharp. He knew I didn’t
care about the car, so he slipped a bomb into it.”
Yuffie stared at him, wide eyed. “Are you people insane? Is that your problem?”
Reno patted her on the arm, twice, spreading just enough dirt on her shoulder that she
would have to wash the jacket as soon as she got home. When he pulled his palm back
and saw the results of his reassurance, he shrugged, and quickly traced his name in the
mound of dirt. “We’ll train you up yet,” he said with a smile that was only slightly manic.
“In this business, insane is just another word for proactive.”
Onward to Chapter 6!