Chapter One
Finding work in Wall Market did not prove to be a harrowing experience, contrary to my expectations. It wasn't just because Wall Market was a place where the dregs of society went to buy stuff, close to the nearby Sectors which were, point of fact, the 'ghettos' of Midgar's plate sections. However, when work doesn't exist, one can create it if they've got enough fantasy...provided there's a base to start from.
The stale air smelled like crude car oil, and the multicolored crowd made it heat to a point where it was barely breathable. This was what it felt like to live in a cramped, tightly packed and horrible place. On the plus side, I was no different than the common country boy having come to Midgar to find riches and work. There were dozens like me, but of those dozens, only I had a vague inkling on where to start job-hunting.
In the back of the Materia shop, I made my acquaintance with my first materia. The crystallized Mako, the knowledge of the Ancient condensed into energy form to cast magic, snugly fit in the hole on the back of my right hand, a leather glove of sorts holding the marble-sized gem in place with straps made of small steel clips.
The Fire Materia glinted with its unearthly beautiful green glow.
"Here's how it works," the Store Owner said. "I've got a batch of materia, and I need it to grow a bit before I can sell it. You start working on it, and when you see it's grown enough to be dangerous, you put it over there in that crate," he pointed to the other side of the room. "Right now, that thing's worth is practically null. It won't even make a spark. When you get something that can burn someone's flesh off, then you're done."
I nodded, and as I stared at the gem for a bit more, a sudden sharp scream made me jolt and made the materia spark. "There you go," the owner said, coughing lightly. "Get used to that feeling. That 'jolt' is what you need to do to get the materia to work. It's a tiny heart attack every time, so it gets tiresome after a bit, but you look capable of going the long run," he chuckled. "I'll be in the front. Needless to say, don't try to run off or I'll burn you to ashes and dust you beneath the carpet."
"I understand," I replied, catching my breath as my heart hammered a bit more. Tiny sparks flew off from the back of the fire materia, like one of those pretty summer fireworks you hold in your right hand, and watch as they burn. Only, in this case, it was a Fire Materia.
Reality was different. Materia required a 'brain wave' shock, which could be brought forth easily in battle, but not that easily in a 'controlled' environment. On the other hand, using Materia repeatedly could pretty much guarantee it would eventually grow. This was what I told the Materia Shop Owner, and what convinced him to 'hire me' in order to make it 'mature'. A fully matured Materia could sell for forty-two thousand of Gils, which meant it had a value of eighty-four thousands.
The sparks singed my right hand.
Repeatedly.
I ground my teeth and clenched my fist, thrusting the punch forward as the sparks sailed forth. This was just like doing the karate's katas all over again. Right punch, left punch, step forward, right punch, left punch, step backwards, guard left, guard right, and resume stance. Restart movements until you grow bored.
Only, I couldn't grow bored. The 'mental jolt' I practiced the materia's casting with came whenever I felt some form of emotion -embarrassment in particular. I was using the thought of the materia owner catching me doing silly stuff, and as I repeatedly thought that, and even sillier thoughts, the sparks kept flying, slowly but surely increasing in heat and potency.
It still wasn't enough for a proper Fire Materia, but my eyes felt tired as if I had spent an all-nighter in front of a pc screen, and my body was sore from the repeated motions. It hadn't helped that I had yet to solve my sleeping arrangements.
This was the kind of job that nobody could do for long, because it grated on someone's nerves, required incessant repetitions, and tired someone out hard. I was basically draining my non-existing Mana Pool and then waiting the next day to have it refilled in order to start again.
"It's adequate progress," the owner of the Materia shop grumbled once he closed up shop for the day. "Maybe in a few weeks I'll have a crate of the stuff worth selling," he handed me a palsy fifty gils for an afternoon of work, recovered the Fire Materia, and sent me on my way. Apparently, the average time for a 'Materia' to mature into a 'battle-worthy' Materia was of a couple of days of non-stop training with it. Admittedly, if the guy had a crate of the stuff, he wouldn't be able to do it all by himself.
Since the normal value was of six hundred Gils per 'First Level' Materia, he'd pay me at most two hundred Gils per two days of non-stop work, ensuring him an earning of four hundred Gils.
Tonight's dinner would be hot ramen bought at one of Don Corneo's stalls just outside his mansion, and served with lemonade that had probably seen better days, but was the safest bet since it came in a can rather than in a cup or an open bottle. The owner of the stall didn't remark on the 'audacious' choice, and as the dinner warmed my gullet, I headed back to the inn to sleep.
I probably didn't have a few weeks. The news hadn't spoken of a reactor's explosion, but Aerith had been wearing pink, which meant the events were further ahead than Crisis Core. Also, Avalanche was being reported as a terrorist group, and the 'Diamond Tiara' I had found coupled with the lack of Materia in the Materia Shop seemed to indicate that Cloud would be passing by the Wall Market soon enough -at the very least, sooner than a few weeks.
The next day, I began my morning by working at the Materia Store. A full eight hours of work there earned me one hundred gils, and the experience I was making working with Materia wasn't bad at all. I did feel like crap for the following hours, as if somebody had beaten my brain with a mallet, but I was used to headaches, and as long as I went to sleep, I'd wake up the next morning completely refreshed.
Unfortunately, when you are not the one looking for trouble, usually it's trouble that comes looking for you.
I had avoided the Turks. I had avoided the gangsters. I had avoided a lot of troubles.
Yet, apparently, I could not avoid Aerith.
It was as I stepped out of the Materia shop later in the evening, my head feeling like crap and my eyes sore, that Aerith's form on the opposite side of it caught my sight. She was selling flowers to the crowd passing by, and more than a few did try to harass her only to receive a 'shake off' in the form of a hand gripping their wrists with enough strength to perhaps shatter it.
Seriously, why could this strong Aerith not belong to the gameplay too? I'm speaking with you, you back-row healer type from the game.
"Hello," I said. "I'll have one flower," I added as I offered one gil up for the exchange.
Aerith graciously did just that, "Thank you," she said as she handed me the flower. She beamed me a sunny smile that would have probably made Zack Fair happier than ever, "Could I bother you for a second?"
"You can bother me for as many hours as you wish," I yawned, "As long as it involves me having time to eat, anything's fine."
"Would you be willing to return the money you stole?" Aerith asked.
"Sure," I replied, catching her slightly off-guard before she beamed a motherly smile.
"That's a relief," she said with a sigh of relief, a hand to her chest holding her basket in the crook of her arm. "I was sure we could find a compromise. If you'll follow me, I'll bring you to where we're supposed to meet."
I shrugged and began to follow her. "It turns out it was all a big misunderstanding," Aerith continued as we walked. "They really wanted just a cigarette from you," she said. "But considering how they went about it, I can understand why it looked like they were mugging you -I even intervened in that scuffle- but, well, I'm glad nobody got hurt too badly."
I raised an eyebrow. "So, where are we meeting exactly?" I asked, "The playground?"
Aerith shook her head as we passed by a crowd of leering drunken men. She didn't seem to be bothered by the booty call or the whistles sent her way -after all, she was a slum girl, and was used to it. "There's this bar, 'Seventh Heaven'. I'm sure there is nothing to worry about," she added offhandedly. "They really didn't feel like bad people."
I really doubted that. I doubted that so hard, that if my doubt could be a limit break, it would be a limit break of tenth level in a world where only the 'fourth' level stood.
"They came to bother you while you were working?" I asked.
"One of them," Aerith said, "But he didn't bother me much. He politely explained his group's reasons, and he cleared the misunderstanding up. I was sure you'd want to make amend too, so since I knew you were somewhere around Wall Market, I began to ask around. It wasn't that hard to find you after that."
"Well, I am wearing a bright blue jacket," I said with a shrug.
"I know," Aerith said. "It's a nice vibrant color." She furrowed her brows a bit. "What's that white sail for?"
"Oh, this used to be the jacket I wore while rowing back home," I said. "Hometown near the sea, if you don't have sails on your clothes you ain't doing it right."
"Costa del Sol?" Aerith's eyes lit up. "Are you from there?"
"No, nothing so grand," I shook my head. "Just a tiny village better left unmentioned and unspoken of," I added with a small smile. The playground was now coming closer. Why did I smell the stink of an ambush?
Because ambushes were all the craze around these parts.
As it turned out, the playgrounds had not been chosen as the site of an ambush. Then, perhaps the Sector Seven Slums? Would they come out from the alleyways the moment they caught wind of me?
Yet, the more I began to grow increasingly agitated, the less I found traces of the telltale signs of an ambush.
"You shouldn't worry too much. They're not following you," Aerith said suddenly, catching my interest once more. "Creepy guys with sunglasses even in the middle of the night and wearing matching suits and ties? They're Turks. They think I have what it takes to enter SOLDIER," she giggled.
"Well, I wouldn't put it past you considering how well you sent those poor guys flying," I said, my eyes now straining themselves. I couldn't see the 'Turks' she was speaking of. Perhaps they really were masters of hiding. Whatever the reason, I wasn't seeing them.
"Hey, I'm still a girl," Aerith said with a warm smile. I shook my head slowly with a smile of my own on my lips.
The Seventh Heaven was packed with people drinking, smoking, and yelling obnoxious things. Tifa was behind the counter, her 'forms' as generous as they had been depicted. However, my incredible willpower allowed me to divert my gaze to the closest threat in the area, namely 'Boss-Gangster and his band of merry gangsters' who were nursing a few drinks in a corner, looking kind of sullen.
Behind the counter, keeping an eye at the cash register, was a young girl as cute as a button that probably went by the name of 'Marlene'. She was keeping an eye on the money, and while Tifa took charge of everything, she ensured nobody got the silly idea of stealing from her 'school funds'.
When we neared the group of unlucky gangsters, I realized two things. The first was that they were nursing water in their drinks, and the second was that they had a single tray of peanuts which they had religiously divided among themselves.
I wanted to laugh.
I didn't because this was the 'Pirandellian Irony' at its finest, and if there's one thing one should never laugh at, it's another person's misery.
"Boss," one of the guys said as he realized I was nearing, alerting their 'gang leader' of my impending arrival.
"Ah-" the Boss exclaimed, turning to face me.
"Here," I said quite calmly, dropping three hundred gils on the table, "Misunderstanding cleared, and there's the interest for the loan. We square?"
That made them all perk up, and once they divided the money among themselves, their boss nodded. "We're square. Sorry about that scare man-how about drinks on me?"
I shook my head politely, "I'm sorry. I'd love to, but I've got to work tomorrow morning-"
"Work's for suckers," one of the youngsters -green hair- snickered.
"Alas, it's what one does for a living," I shrugged. "Well, it was nice to meet you, but-"
The first thing I saw as I turned to leave was a large, tough-looking, military-like built man with a minigun of sorts in the place of his right hand. The moment he stepped inside, everyone quieted down. He walked forward on a straight path towards the counter, but stopped just short of me and snorted. "Nice jacket," he said. My light blue jacket was also light-refracting, had I mentioned this before? No? Then perhaps I should have. Also, I should mention that when I am tired after a long day, my mouth filter somehow turns off ever so slightly. That, and the fumes of the bar were really getting to my nose.
"Nice gun," I replied as smoothly as my skipping heartbeat allowed it. What came out was probably 'N-N-Nice G-G-Gun' considering he towered over pretty much everyone else.
He dropped his head down to stare me right in the eyes. "You think you're being funny?" he bared his teeth in a smile that reeked of predator.
"H-Hilarious' my second name," I stammered out.
"You look like you're a new guy," Barret said, "So this time, I'll tell ya to si'down and shu'up. Next time, I'll kick your fucking skinny ass outside in the dirt."
So there I was, sitting down next to the 'gangsters' with Aerith having most aptly taken the seat right next to me.
"Daddy!" Marlene said a few seconds later, jumping into Barret's arms as the man spun her around.
"My girl!" he laughed, pulling her up on her shoulder and walking towards a corner of the bar that was hastily freed by those who were there to begin with. "You should have gone to b-"
And that was as far as I heard before a hand clapped on my shoulder and I turned to face 'Gang-Boss'.
"That's the bar's guardian, Barret-when he yanks you, let him fucking yank you or you're going to get filled with holes," Boss-Guy said, before gesturing towards Tifa. "For my pretty-jacket friend and his staff-friend, two pints of your strong stuff, Tifa! It's on me!"
I honestly needed something strong to stop my legs from shaking.
Still, this couldn't turn out any worse than it already was-
My line of thought was interrupted when the Turks Aerith mentioned beforehand stepped inside the bar flanked by a few rows of Shinra soldiers.
