"Eat slower! You'll choke!"
Scarlet paced the length of the 64th floor Executive Lounge, her high heels clicking like a metronome. Her face was flushed, her fiery red hair slightly messy, and she was watching Ryu with an expression that was halfway between a doting mother and a stalker who had just successfully locked her target in a basement.
Ryu, back in the relatively pristine environment of Shinra HQ, was sitting on an plush ottoman, wearing only the dark blue weighted Turtle School undershirt and gi pants, his tail hanging loosely. His black gi was draped over a chair, still dusted with the dirt from the wasteland.
"But it's Wagyu, Scarlet!" Ryu mumbled, mid-chew, swallowing a piece of steak that was easily a quarter-pound. He wiped his mouth on his hand. "You can't eat Wagyu slow! It dissolves!"
Scarlet stopped pacing. She looked down at him, her eyes softening into that terrifyingly soft, possessive look he had grown used to. She knelt, reaching out to stroke his spiky hair, then moved her hand down to trace the line of his jaw. Her fingers lingered, almost possessively, on his neck.
"You are so strong, Ryu," she whispered, her voice a velvety, dangerous purr. "Reno told me you punched that rogue Sweeper out of existence without even trying. That you were... teaching the grunts and that... that rat child. What was her name? Yuffie?"
"She's not a rat, she's a ninja princess!" Ryu grinned, taking another massive bite of steak. "And yeah, I was teaching them Ki! They both made it glow! By tomorrow, I'm gonna make Zack run twenty miles in the weighted suit!"
Scarlet's smile froze. Her hand tightened on his jaw, her nails digging in just enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to draw blood.
"You will not be training them," Scarlet hissed, her voice dropping that yandere-lite tone into full-blown obsessive territorialism. "Especially not that Wutai trash. I have already requisitioned a private, sterile training level on the 70th floor. From now on, you train only with me watching. You do not leave the tower without my permission."
Ryu blinks, steak halfway to his mouth. Man, she's in a bad mood today. Must be that time of the month... is that how time works for non-Saiyans?
"Scarlet, relax," Ryu said cheerfully, pulling her hand away from his face. "If I only train inside, I'll get soft! I need fresh air! And fighting! I promise I won't get caught by Hojo, okay?"
Scarlet stared at him. His innocence was his greatest defense against her overbearing control; she couldn't stay truly angry at that wide-eyed, empty smile for more than five seconds.
"Fine," she sighed, pushing herself up and looking genuinely defeated. She walked back to her desk, grabbing a stack of Gil notes—at least ten thousand. She tossed them onto the table. "Hurry and finish. I have an important meeting with President Shinra and Hojo regarding the new Materia reactor in Sector 1. Take this. Get out. Go... 'get some air.' If you are not back and in bed by 10 PM, I will burn the entire Midgar Slums to the ground to find you."
Ryu cheered, instantly forgetting about her control. He grabbed the Gil. "You're the best, sis! See ya!"
Ryu ran toward the massive, floor-to-ceiling reinforced glass window.
"Ryu, don't you dare—!"
CRASH.
Glass rained down into the neon-lit Midgar night. Ryu didn't stop, already vaulting over the edge.
Scarlet ran to the broken window, her face turning crimson with rage and obsessive worry. "LITTLE IDIOT! IF YOU SCRATCH YOUR FACE, I WILL NUKE WUTAI OUT OF EXISTENCE!"
Sector 7 Slums
The Sector 7 slums were louder, rougher, and smelled infinitely worse than Wall Market. Where Wall Market was performance and vice, Sector 7 was industrial desperation.
Ryu loved it.
He navigated the twisted metal pathways and steam vents with ease, utilizing his new lightweight speed to bounce silently between rooftops. He wasn't aiming for anything specific, but the Lifestream in this sector felt heavy, sad. The ground vibrated constantly from the noise of the Upper Plate construction.
"Wait... that smell..." Ryu sniffed the air, his tail twitching. "Alcohol... cheap perfume... and... burgers?"
He dropped silently into a dark alley, following the scent. The light of a neon sign illuminated the grimy street.
7TH HEAVEN.
The sign featured a cartoonish, slightly busty angel holding a martini. A low buzz of music and conversation echoed from inside. Ryu had never been in a bar before, but any place that smelled like beef was worth investigating.
He pushed the swinging doors open and walked in.
The bar was packed. Miners, engineers, and standard-issue roughnecks sat on rickety stools, drowning their sorrows in cheap beer. The music was some terrible, local rock band playing in the corner.
Ryu walked straight up to the mahogany counter. He had his stolen Gil ready.
"Seven burgers! No, make it ten! The super extra huge ones!" Ryu slammed his hand onto the counter. He had to stand on his tiptoes to see over it.
The entire bar, previously a low buzz of noise, goes completely, instantly silent. Fifty pairs of eyes turn to stare at the twelve-year-old boy in a weighted undershirt demanding ten massive burgers and casually standing on an ottoman made of air pressure.
A young woman behind the bar paused mid-wipe of a glass. She looked up.
She was stunning. Her hair was black, long, and tied back in a style that screamed "I will punch you if you look at me wrong." She wore a simple white tank top and a black leather skirt, both emphasizing a powerful, yet undeniably feminine physique. Her eyes were deep red, intelligent, and focused.
Tifa Lockhart.
Tifa's red eyes bulge as she takes in the child demanding ten super-sized burgers. Where does he put it all?!
"A... kid?" Tifa blinked, setting the glass down. "Wait, this is a bar. We don't serve minors alcohol."
"I don't want alcohol, I want burgers!" Ryu beamed, unaware of his surroundings. "Ten burgers! My sister gave me lots of Gil, look!" He shoved the wad of high-denomination notes onto the counter.
Tifa looked at the Gil. It was enough to buy the entire building. Then she looked at the boy. He wasn't Mako-eyed, but she felt a vibration coming off him, like static electricity on a stormy day. He was compact power. She also noticed the furry, brown limb flicking casually behind him. A tail...? Another of Hojo's experiments?
She wiped her hands on her apron and managed a warm, gentle smile. He was strange, but he seemed... innocent. Which was rare in Midgar.
"Okay," Tifa laughed softly, already writing down the order. "Ten super burgers coming right up. But since you're paying in Gil that probably costs more than my whole stock... you have to sit at that private table in the back. Minors aren't allowed at the counter."
"Deal!" Ryu grinned, grabbing the ottoman with one hand and casually setting it down at the specified table. "Make 'em quick!"
Tifa watched him walk away. Her feminine intuition, usually focused on avoiding the clumsy advances of local drunks, was screaming at her. He's strange... but he has really good energy. She felt a blush creep up her neck. And he's... kinda cute. In a puppy sort of way.
While Tifa was cooking, two men slid into the bar stools next to her counter. They wore the colors of the local "A-Class" gang, specializing in petty theft and intimidating vendors.
"Hey, beautiful," the lead thug, a greasy-haired man named Butch, drawled, leaning too far over the counter. "I saw that little rich brat you just sat in the back. He had enough Gil on him to retire. We're gonna go... 'collect a toll.' You just keep pouring, alright?"
Tifa stopped cooking. She grabbed Butch's hand, the one he was currently using to drum nervously on the counter, and squeezed. Her knuckles turned white.
"If you so much as look at him, you are never drinking here again," Tifa hissed, her red eyes flashing with protective fury. "He is my customer. And he's a child."
Butch winced, his fingers cracking under the pressure. "Alright, alright! Geez, Tifa! Forget it!"
He pulled his hand back, and the two thugs retreated to the corner, nursing their bruised egos and plotting.
Ten minutes later, Tifa walked over to Ryu's table, balancing three massive platters stacked with burgers. They were easily twice the size of a standard Midgar citizen's head.
"Here you go, Ryu," Tifa said, setting them down. She was still blushing slightly. "Ten '7th Heaven Supernova' burgers. We put a whole pound of steak in each one."
Ryu's eyes literally transform into cartoon sparkles. A slight drool appears. ...It's a mountain of meat!
"YESSS!" Ryu roared.
He devoured the first burger in three seconds flat, wrapping paper and all.
Tifa pulled a crate next to him and sat down, watching him with a mix of amusement and genuine horror. She picked up the remaining Gil, separating what the burgers cost from the massive stack.
"You really... like food," Tifa observed, reaching out instinctively to wipe a smudge of ketchup from his cheek.
"Food is important!" Ryu muffled around his third burger. "If you don't eat, you can't train! If you can't train, you get weak! If you get weak, you die!"
"You're obsessed with training?" Tifa smiled. She was too. That was her life—training with her master in Nibelheim, and now, maintaining her strength in the harsh environment of the Slums. "What do you train in? Sword? Magic?"
"Neither!" Ryu said proudly, gulping down his fourth burger. "Martial arts! Hand-to-hand combat! The body is the strongest weapon!"
Tifa's eyes lit up. She felt a sudden, electric connection. This puppy was a kindred spirit.
"Me too!" Tifa grinned, leaning in closer. "I train in Zangan-style martial arts! I don't use weapons either!"
Ryu stopped mid-chew. He looked at her. Really looked at her.
Her arms were toned, strong, but undeniably soft. She radiated an internal warmth, not cold Mako or angry Ki, but a steady, resilient life force.
"You are strong," Ryu observed. "I can feel your energy. It's... steady. Calm."
Tifa blushed furiously, a full flush covering her cheeks. She was used to men commenting on her appearance, not her spiritual density. This boy was bizarre, but her heart was hammering in her chest.
"I... um... thanks," Tifa managed to stutter. "I train hard. To... to protect the things I care about." Her eyes darkened slightly. A flash of memory—the burning of Nibelheim, the image of a silver-haired man.
Before Ryu could comment further, a large hand clamped down on Tifa's shoulder.
"Looks like your 'customer' is finished, Tifa," Butch drawled, his confidence returned as five more of his gang members stepped out of the shadows, surrounding the table. Butch drew a heavy lead pipe. "Alright, rich brat. Hand over the Gil. And that tail. We're gonna sell it to Hojo for a bonus."
Butch smirks, entirely too confident. The other seven thugs close in, ready to kill a child and rough up a bartender.
Tifa immediately jumped up, pulling Ryu behind her broad back. "Get out of here, Butch! I mean it!" She dropped into the classic Zangan defensive stance.
"Relax, Tifa," Ryu mumbled. He was on his ninth burger.
Butch raised his pipe to smash the wooden table, intending to shower the boy in splintered wood.
Ryu didn't look up. He casual extended his right arm, fingers open, and caught the pipe mid-swing.
Thud.
The lead pipe didn't move. Butch looked confused, putting his whole weight into it. The pipe was caught between Ryu's thumb and index finger.
"You," Ryu said, finishing the tenth burger. He wiped his hands on the tablecloth. "You are extremely loud. And you interrupted a conversation about martial arts."
Tifa stares at Ryu's tiny fingers holding the 50-pound lead pipe. Her jaw drops. No Mako... no magic... he's just physically stronger?!
Ryu slightly flexed his fingers.
CRUNCH.
The lead pipe shattered into a cloud of shrapnel, metal dust showering Butch's face.
Butch shrieked in horror, stumbling backward. "He... he shattered lead with his fingers! He's a monster!"
"Get him!" one of the other thugs yelled, lunging forward with a switchblade.
Tifa roared. Before the thug could reach Ryu, she blurred. She launched a perfect, Zangan-style roundhouse kick, connecting with the thug's jaw. The impact echoed like a cannon shot. The thug was sent flying across the bar, shattering three stools before collapsing.
Ryu cheered, standing up and dusting off his gi. "Nice kick, Tifa! Your extension was sloppy, but your power transfer was excellent! Eight out of ten!"
"S-Sloppy?!" Tifa gasped, turning bright red again.
"Watch the right!" Ryu commanded.
Ryu moved. He didn't use speed; he simply stepped. He backhanded two thugs simultaneously, spinning them both like tops before they collapsed onto the table, shattering the plates.
"Kiai."
Ryu clapped his hands together toward the remaining four thugs.
A concentrated burst of invisible air pressure exploded outward. The thugs were lifted off their feet and slammed backward into the bar wall, collapsing into a heap of unconsciousness.
The entire fight had lasted 2.5 seconds. The bar was, once again, silent.
Ryu looked at Tifa, scratch the back of his head and grinning. "That was a fun warm-up! Your form is good, Tifa. Zangan-style... I think I've heard of it."
Tifa stared at him. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it would explode. He was reckless. He was loud. He was oblivious.
But he was pure. He was strong. And for the first time in years, she felt safe.
"Ryu," Tifa said softly, stepping closer. "You're... amazing. And you are a total mess." She reached out, her fingers running through his wild, gravity-defying spiky hair, attempting to smooth it down.
Ryu winced slightly. "Stop that! It's part of my strength!"
"If you ever... if you ever get tired of the Upper Plate," Tifa blushed, looking down at her boots, "the 7th Heaven is always open. For you. And you get free burgers. Forever."
Ryu's eyes literally shone. "FREE BURGERS?! FOREVER?!"
He cheered, picking Tifa up and spinning her around. She shrieked, her face completely hidden by her red hands.
"You're the best, Tifa!" Ryu laughed, setting her down. "Okay, gotta go! Scarlet said she'd burn the slums down if I'm late! See ya, Tifa!"
Ryu ran toward the entrance, waving out the swinging doors.
"See ya, Ryu," Tifa whispered, her fingers lingering on her lips.
As Ryu vanished into the grimy Midgar night, Tifa looked at the pile of Gil still sitting on the counter. She smiled.
She knew she would see him again. The Lifestream didn't have a choice.
*********************************************************
CH20+ in pat.ero.n--
p.at.reon.com/cw/OzFalor