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Final Fantasy VII: Reverie	By : Saan Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 655 -:- 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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Title inspired by the Linkin Park song �Cure For The Itch.� Lyrics taken from the Linkin Park song �Cure For The Itch.�

Folks, we have a very special guest for you tonight I'd like to introduce: Mr. Hahn

Back left. Right back. Bend at the waist. Jump! Squat! �OW, OW, OW!!� The punches alone from this man were hard enough to break the visor of her helmet. In an attempt to dodge a reverse crescent kick her lanyard swung away only to be severed by his kick.

Leira stumbled and landed with one knee to the ground. Looking up into the face of her attacker, she coughed and brought her fists up to offer protection for herself.

A much older man, probably in his sixties, wiped off his nose using his right wrist. �You don�t have the technique to fight me.� In spite of his heavy breathing, his voice carried a tone no different from a teacher instructing his worst student. The Turk Elite turned her head and inconspicuously studied her former boss before focusing her attention on her attacker once more.

Tseng stood above Timal, who was squatting beside an unconscious Cloud Strife. The Turk head furiously scribbled notes on his clipboard while the SOLDIER listed every conceivable health condition affecting the boy. It was Leira�s task to subdue and exterminate the elderly martial arts instructor, identified by Timal, as Zangan along with his star pupil-the injured Tifa Lockheart.

While the Shinra team was surprised to find the two deep inside the Mount Nibel reactor they figured it a blessing to dodge the burden of combing the entire continent in search of them.

In one fluid motion, she sprung off the hard ground and snapped into an airborne left thrust kick aimed for her prey�s face.

Zangan�s eyes widened as the flat black sole of her boot missed his rosy round nose. He backed off, alternately lifting his right and left arm, and sped into her body, his upper body parallel to the floor. In the blink of an eye, he lunged in with a left knife-hand strike. Leira feinted left and leaned as far back as she could, her right forearm went out instinctively to block�nothing but air.

Zangan kicked right then left. The Elite found herself impressed by the elderly man�s moves. In her training sessions with Norelliies, she learned the strongest and fastest strikes were often denoted by the sound of clothes snapping upon rapid extension of arm or leg. Following up with a high knee to her midsection, he caught her and lifted her off the ground and a crushing right back-fist to her face.

Leira�s body sailed backwards through the air for several feet until gravity pulled the back of her head down in a dangerous arc, leaving her legs to pass over and careen to the ground in a heap. Pain surged through every part of her being as she lay face down, immobile.

Tseng pried his eyes from his records long enough to witness Leira�s bone crunching defeat. He was just about to set the board down when the SOLDIER placed his hands on his knees and stood upright.

The old white haired man stepped back a couple paces as soon as he got a look at the SOLDIERs eyes. He fixed his brown burlap looking shorts and shirt and brushed his long wavy red cape behind him. �You, you�re one of them!�

Timal blinked at him but said nothing. Someone was forever saying how he looked like something; part of this or that; being from Wutai or being a SOLDIER, always branded.

�You�re one of them. A SOLDIER yet a strong proud Wutaian!�

The tall SOLDIER rolled his eyes. I knew it.

�No no, sir. You would be honor bound to assist your female friend just as I. You�ll let us pass��

Timal lowered his chin and tilted his head to watch the aged man attempt to recover his student. �Hnnh, really.� He scratched the back of his head. �Just because I happen to be Wutaian.�

Zangan stopped and turned to regard him with a curious glare. �I mean no��

�Don�t talk to me of honor!� Timal was on the verge of snapping. He folded his arms under his chest plate, �My guess is the chick uses fighting techniques that don�t belong to her.�

�What?!� Zangan was beside himself filled with trepidation. �I teach the martial arts-You would use such a disrespectful word to-�

�As I said �don�t talk to me of honor.�� Timal crouched low and cracked his knuckles.

�I regret our nation passing regulations filled with rubbish to hinder others in their learning of a foreign culture.� Zangan paused to smile faintly, �At the very least I feel this fight of ours will test our Wutaian styles.�

Timal rubbed his nose on his wrist then bolted upright. �Heh,� he smiled and began an introductory kata, leaping into the air with a flying roundhouse kick before landing in split. Pushing himself off the ground, his left leg moved backward to join with his right then executed a right rear kick and a left forward punch. Spinning backward on one foot, he jumped up slapped his shoulders with his hands then stretched his left hand out to the side palm facing outward. His head jolted to the left and his right automatically cocked beneath his chest. With a slap, his right elbow and left palm slammed together. He dropped to one knee then extended his arms as far apart as he could. Jumping into the air once more, he put himself into a crane stance with his right foot tucked behind his left knee. Crossing his left arm over his chest, he swept gracefully at the air and loosed his right hand parting his fingers into a snakehead strike.

The SOLDIER�s movements were very smooth and fluid leaving Zangan in a state of shock. He had to get Tifa out of the reactor. The potions salvaged from the remains of the general store were to be used sparingly; the road out of Nibelheim was dangerous even before the increase in Shinra activities. �Are you done?� Zangan gulped passing glances from Tifa�s limp form to the tall muscular SOLDIER. �Kata is something you do on your time, not when you fight.� For all it was worth, he hoped his words would serve as a distraction. In his heart, the champion fighter knew kata was a blue print for all fighting styles; he did not mean his insolence and prayed the ancient fighting spirits would forgive him.

Timal stopped and bent slightly at the knees. �Let�s see what you�ve got, old man!�

�Brash and cocky, you�ll wish you left me alone!� Zangan purred stroking his mustache.

Let's hear it for the great Mr. Hahn

Like a bolt of lightning Timal made a dash for the elderly man with an extended fist. Zangan dodged and blocked the strike with a right elbow and stuck out with a right snap kick aimed for his attacker�s belt line.

Timal kicked left and off balanced Zangan enough to spin him around. He wrapped his right arm around his neck and pulled the man down. The legendary fighter reached around, jabbed the SOLDIER�s neck with one hand, and then dug his fingers into his spine with the other.

Timal coughed and released his grip then dropped to one knee kicking at Zangan�s ankles with his outstretched right foot.

Tseng watched the two battle briefly, than recited a cure spell to further heal the fallen foot soldier, Cloud Strife. Pushing his long black hair behind his right ear, he wondered why the boy remained unconscious. Could it be some kind of brain damage? How is Hojo going to take this? He shook off his fear and knelt beside Leira who landed at the other side of the room, face down. Carefully, he offered his cure spell and waited silently for her to move. He put a hand to her neck and checked his watch timing how long it took for her pulse and breathing to steady.

Leira gasped and shifted to lay on her back, eye to eye with the Turk head.

�You okay, Thompson?�

�Ughh�� was all she could mutter in response.

Tseng smiled at her and removed his navy blue blazer. In truth, he was relieved she awakened for more reasons then one. The site of the no-holds-barred match between Zangan and Timal, less then ten feet away, made him pine for the freedom of his childhood picking fights with whomever he chose long before taking his position as the head of the Turks.

Zangan dealt Timal a hefty body check to the ribs then kicked him away. As quickly as he could he rejoined his barely breathing student, administered a potion, and lifted her into his arms. His idea was to hold the girl before the young Wutaian SOLDIER thereby forcing him to remember the moral values of his homeland.

Timal stumbled but quickly regained his balance just as Zangan was about to attempt an escape. �What�s wrong, old man?� The SOLDIER smiled and held his fists level to his chest.

The old man sighed and shook his head. �I don�t want to fight you. I don�t have the time.� He regarded Tifa with a light sigh before setting her on the ground propped against one of the strange Shinra canisters.

Tseng could contain his excitement no more, his clipboard crashed to the ground while his fingers fumbled with the buttons of his blazer in a desperate attempt to shuck it off. Suddenly, a rustling alerted him to Leira�s presence.

The Elite did her best to stand but was only able to work herself into a wobbly squat. Tseng was against Leira�s endeavor to rejoin the battle so he maneuvered himself to her front with his back to her. �Leave it to the pros,� he said with a hint of sarcasm.

Losing her balance, she plopped down on her rear and watched the men fight. Timal�s moves seem so professional and elegant it was hard for her to believe they could stem from such a crude, loud, and rude individual. The extension of his long legs with each kick, the force of his blows as they crashed against the aged instructor, something continued to pique the curiosity she harbored for him.

�You�� Zangan dropped his shoulders and put his hands on his hips, �Men like you are part of such a noble culture. How-�

The SOLDIER removed his black shooting gloves and Zu beaten light blue Kevlar jacket, wearing nothing more then his sleeveless royal blue turtleneck, shredded pants and knee high Costa Del Sol issue combat boots. Unbeknownst to Timal, his materia laden sidearm fell from a compartment in the coat�s interior only to land on the concrete and be smothered by his uniform. �Men like me are here to kick your ass!� He rushed the elderly fighter and threw a strong left thrust punch followed by a right snap kick.

Zangan feinted to the right well out of the range of Timal�s kick only to be caught by a left spinning heel kick. He did his best to block but the SOLDIER upped the ante with a barrage of punches aimed straight for his head and solar plexus. Suddenly, something clicked and he was able to notice a pattern forming. His attacker was several inches taller then himself, which caused his blows to connect possibly higher then intended. To test his theory he dropped to his knees narrowly missing several quick blows.

Zangan put his face between Timal�s thighs wrapping his arms around them. With a strong tug, he managed to use the man�s own height and weight against him. As expected, the SOLDIER started to topple. Zangan hopped up and kicked his opponent in the head to drop the Wutaian quicker. �Please, please-just let me take her out of here! She�s done nothing to any of you! She�s dying!� He pleaded while wiping sweat from his brow.

Timal bit his lip trying to figure out how he was so easily dropped. He raised his arms above his head bent his elbows, allowing his bare palms to lay flat on the ground. He hefted his legs to form an acute angle with his body before arching his back and thrusting his feet out to correct himself.

Leira watched the dim lighting reflect off the tall man�s sweat soaked brown skin. She found herself astounded by his combat skills and somewhat envious at the same time. It hurt to see how worthless her Shinra unarmed fighting lessons were.

�Our orders were �no witnesses�, old man, sorry!� Timal taunted with fake remorse.

Tseng knew the longer the SOLDIER fought, the cockier he would become. If he stayed on the sidelines and did nothing, there was a good chance the old man would escape with Tifa Lockheart. The Turk boss was not about to throw his position or his employers into that kind of jeopardy. He quickly slid his blazer off, letting it slip to the ground and pulled his hair into a tight ponytail.

By the time he finished wrapping a rubber band scavenged from his pants pocket around his smooth raven black mane, he noticed Timal backed into a corner. Tseng knew his fellow Shinra operative was in a desperate position.

�Tseng?� Leira questioned studying him from head to toe.

Her former boss briefly looked at her, offering a small smile before launching himself into the air in a powerful leap.

And now a lesson in Rhythm management. Let's begin.

The pale-skinned Turk boss flew in with fists blazing, completely catching both combatants off guard. It had been a long time since he had joined in anything physical; usually all it took to get the job done was a gun to his victim�s head.

Timal caught a blow, from Zangan, and backed out. With the SOLDIER temporarily out of the picture, Zangan dove for the ground and scooped up some loose dirt.

Tseng elbowed the instructor in the ribs and raised his knee, primed to land a hard axe kick when the dirt released. �So much for being honor bound.� He thought to himself furiously wiping his face and eyes. Slowly he moved away to try to recoup but ended up backing into Timal.

The SOLDIER placed his hands on Tseng�s shoulders to push him out of the way. �I�ll step in for a bit,� he told him in their shared language.

Zangan stood still. His facial expression conveyed nothing more then absolute horror. Timal was unsure of what to make of his prey until he followed his gaze to a point somewhere behind-

�You! I know you! Long ago! No wonder your fighting style is so different from his!� Zangan blurted out to Tseng.

The Turk managed to clear out enough dirt to open his watery eyes. He glanced around before he realized what was going on.

Leira seemed to be the only one conscious who was completely confused. �What is he talking about?�

�I told you all before about Tseng!� Timal barked and flipped her off.

Tseng bent forward and placed his hands on his knees. �My name is Tseng.�

Zangan stared at the red dot above the bridge of the man�s nose. �But-your parents! What happened to-?�

Both the Turk and SOLDIER converged on Zangan. Tseng hopped into the area and tilted slightly to release a devastating hurricane kick to the neck while Timal went low to wrestle the man to the ground.

Tseng landed with his knees bent and arms spread out to the side. �My name is Tseng,� he calmly repeated.

Timal pulled Zangan up by his collar and smiled. �Can I kill him now?�

All right now, wasn�t that fun?

The old man was tired and scared of what might happen to his student. In a last ditch attempt at escape he wove his right arm between Timal�s wrists and grabbed it with his left hand. By the time the SOLDIER figured out what was going on Zangan had exploited the iron grip by smashing his forearm into the other�s thumbs, spun around and dealt a somewhat off balanced hammer fist to his throat.

Tseng leapt in but paused to catch a horribly telegraphed kick. The poor old man panted heavily and gulped as Timal moved in. After researching both men�s stances and their levels of exhaustion, Zangan was able to concoct a plan.

Let�s try something else

He fired a lazy left roundhouse kick in Timal�s direction, aimed for the head.

As predicted, the kick was caught by the SOLDIER so he kicked again with his free leg.

Tseng caught the kick this time. As Zangan crashed rearward to the ground, he prayed both men would continue to hold his legs. Hurriedly, he arched his back and extended his arms to throw himself into a handstand. With a slight wriggle, he ripped his legs free and rolled backwards between the Shinra agents.

They immediately rushed to recover Zangan only to bump each other in the face.

Timal grabbed his nose while Tseng concerned himself with his throbbing forehead.

�Oh, fuck!� the tall SOLDIER whined as blood began to drip from his nostrils.

�Idiot!� Tseng scolded.

Both men turned away from each other leaving Zangan a gap to squeeze through. With a tremendous jump, he lifted straight off the ground and spread his legs far enough apart to kick the two in the chest.

Leira watched as her coworkers landed collapsed to the ground and lay still. Her eyes shifted to something shiny nearly covered by Timal�s discarded jacket. Suddenly, it dawned on her- �His gun!� she whispered to herself.

While Zangan preoccupied himself with Tifa, Leira crawled over to Timal�s weapon, brushed the armor off it, checked the magazine, and then readied herself to fire. At the very least, he�ll gain some skill points for his materia.

�That�s as far as you go! Drop the girl or be dropped!� Leira shouted before Zangan could make an exit.

Leira got to her feet and began to walk towards the elderly teacher and his wounded student. Two feet into her advance a loud shriek pierced the light industrious hum of the reactor. The sound seemed to be coming from somewhere behind her, somewhere behind the canisters. She clenched the weapon tight in her hands and diverted her attention away from Zangan accidentally leaving him room to make his escape.

�Who�s there?!�
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Final Fantasy VII: Reverie