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The Reaper	By : crystalwind Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 676 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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A little bit longer this time...
Warnings: A mob of children is destroyed by a garbage can full of slop. Rude plays mute. Mommy isn't very nice. _______________________________
Chapter 1 - Dirt
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Laughter rang out through the streets, and every head turned to stare, wondering what caused the commotion. Most of them, once they saw the tell-tale flash of red hair, smiled slightly, shrugged, and continued along their way. It was just Jimmy’s Gang again. A motley group of kids between the ages of eight and eleven, the “Gang” revolved around Jimmy, a boy whose was quite possibly the brightest flash of color in the lower city of Midgar, in personality and color. He and his friends had been terrorizing the streets of Sector 5 for years now, and nobody who lived in the area was at all surprised to see them engaged in a dirt war that day. The few people who were simply visitors to the area, however, were startled to hear laughter of any kind in that dim grey neighborhood. Most of them, however, followed the residents’ example after a moment, and simply went about there business. A small handful of people, though, continued to watch the children play, memorizing faces even as they analyzed group dynamics. They didn’t do it because they were supposed to; it was merely what they did. Waiting by the front of a run-down convenience store, the three men in dark suits had nothing better to do while they waited anyway; watching a mock gang fight in the street was far more entertaining than staring at the lifeless natives.
The battle was, certainly, unlike any gang war ever seen before in the slums. It had started off with a familiar scene: two “rival” groups faced off from each other, strung out in lines with a healthy area of no-man’s land between them. Insults were traded. Rude gestures were exchanged. Then the first clump of dirt flew, and the situation rapidly degenerated into a shrieking mob of children, each intent on winning, even though they were all such close friends that nobody could remember whose side they were on, and the fight turned into an every-man-for-himself brawl. Most of them just ran around shoving dirt, garbage, and whatever else they could get their hands on down one-another’s clothing. One boy, however, stood out from the rest. He had dragged two of his friends out of the mêlée, and he was plotting.
James Stanton, the Third, had no intention of fighting without winning, even if it was just for play. The three spectators watched in amusement as he led his team to the street corner by the local eatery, where several garbage cans were overflowing with what was best described as sludge. A few short minutes later, the trio was armed with a stockpile of sludge-balls, composed of leftover food, dirty, soaked napkins, and even a dirty diaper or two. The other kids never even saw it coming.
The skirmish ended quickly after that, with Jimmy and his two best friends standing virtually untouched; everyone else was covered in slop from the garbage cans. The diaper had wound up exploding on one unfortunate’s head, and the remains hung down from his hair. Jimmy smirked, folded his arms across his chest, and stared them all down. “I’ll accept your unconditional surrender now.”
The defeated mob stared, and silence reigned over the street. The silent onlookers had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing at the looks of shock on the children’s faces. The boy they had silently dubbed Diaper Head stepped forward. “You… How…” He sighed. “You always win, Jimmy.” He hung his head a moment, then sighed again. “Fine. You win. Again. We surrender. Even though I’m pretty sure I was on your side originally.”
Jimmy laughed. “Yeah, I think you were. Oh well, maybe next time.” He winked, and the crowd began to disperse. Jimmy turned to his friends. Myrna, eight years old and the youngest of the mob, grinned and clapped her hands.
“That was fun, guys! I can’t believe we get away with that kind of stuff every time! It’s like they never catch on.” Jimmy and Toby laughed along with her.
“Eventually they’ll figure out what’s going on, I guess.” Toby wiped at some sweat trickling down his face, and made a face when he realized how dirty he was. “Not that we got away squeaky clean… I’m completely covered in dirt from the beginning of the fight.” Jimmy and Myrna looked down at their hands and clothing, and nodded.
“Guess we’d better go clean up. It’s getting late anyway.” Jimmy glanced at the clock above the eatery door as he spoke. “You guys want to meet up tomorrow to hang out again? We haven’t hung out by the playground in a while.” The other two nodded. The old abandoned playground by the entrance to Wall Street was their unofficial hangout spot, where they had played together for years. They didn’t play quite as much nowadays, choosing to sit on the swings or on top of the slide and talk instead, but they still went there whenever they needed a good spot to meet.
“We’ll see you later then Jimmy, ok?” Snatching her older brother’s hand before he could get away, Myrna began dragging Toby off towards their home. Smiling, Jimmy turned in the other direction, not paying attention to the three watchers. They gazed after him for a while before he rounded a corner and disappeared.
“He’s a smart kid,” observed one, brushing back a stray strand of black hair that had escaped his ponytail. “A bit loud, perhaps, and I think I’m half blind now from looking at that hair.” The other two smirked, one adjusting the sunglasses on his nose before jerking his chin in another direction. His companions turned to look where he was indicating, and sighed in relief. Their informant had finally arrived. The red-headed boy and his battle were soon forgotten as the three Turks turned their mind to more important matters. _____________________________________________________
Covered in dirt and sweat from the day’s exertions, Jimmy was cautious when he pushed open the door to his house. It was Friday, so Mom would be home, and she hated when he tracked dirt into the house. In all honesty, she hated when he came into the house, period, but there was no sense in provoking her anger if he could help it. He kept this in mind as he crept quietly down the hall to his room, hoping that she was passed out from her alcohol or drugs already and hadn’t heard him enter. It was a fair expectation; she spent most of her days at home comatose if she could help it. His caution, however, was in vain. She was waiting inside his room for him. “Where have you been?” Her voice was cold, and her icy green eyes scowled down at him. He swallowed, and looked down at his shoes.
“I was hanging out with my friends. I always do, you know that.” He had kept his voice soft, inoffensive, but she was not to be deterred.
“What friends? Who gave you permission to go outside? You worthless little piece of shit, how dare you leave me here alone all day, and then come here, inside my house, telling me you’re out with your so-called friends, tracking your worthless filth in here?” Her voice gained in pitch and volume as she continued, until she was all but screaming at him. He flinched, expecting a slap, but she surprised him instead, returning to her original icy demeanor. “I’m through with this. I’m through with you. Come along, boy. You need a bath.”
Confused by her sudden personality change, Jimmy couldn’t help but wonder if she had been popping pills after all. It had been a long time since she had given him a bath… he was eleven, after all, and the last time she had seen fit to clean him herself was when he was five. She had rubbed his skin so raw with the washcloth that he had bled, and he had taken care to clean himself up before she could see him dirty, after that. Shrugging it off, he resigned himself to bloody skin again, and followed her to the bathroom.
She didn’t bother turning on the hot water tap; cold would work just as well, and she didn’t particularly care if he was comfortable during the bath. It wasn’t going to last long anyway. “Get in.”
Jimmy quickly stripped and obeyed, flinching when his skin touched the icy water. He hoped this bath didn’t last too long.
Initially, the bath was every bit as painful as Jimmy expected it to be. Mom scrubbed him viciously, drawing blood after only a few moments. Having long since learned not to flinch when he was hurt, Jimmy endured in silence, but something in his eyes must have given him away.
“What? Does it hurt? Good. You shouldn’t have stayed out all day, and then tracked dirt in. It’s too bad you won’t have time to learn your lesson.” Jimmy had tuned her out at the beginning of what he expected to turn into a long screaming rant, staring at the faucet instead of looking at her, and so he almost didn’t catch the last bit of her statement, only noticing what she’d said when the washcloth suddenly vanished. Startled and a bit frightened by her words, he looked up, eyes wide, just in time to see her hands reaching for him, wrapping tightly around his neck. He had no time to recover from his shock and struggle before, with a cruel smile, she shoved him back and under the water, smacking his head sharply against the ceramic bottom of the tub. Spots flashed in his eyes, and he went limp, unable to even begin fighting back to save himself. He was going to drown. _______________________________
No, Jimmy is not an OC. He'll be called Reno soon enough :) *Review whore* kplzthx
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The Reaper