Midgar High School

Permutations

"Seriously, Tseng, what kind of bastard does something like that?"

The Wutaian shrugged nonchalantly, bending down in a stretch, the backs of his knees braced against the bench behind him. Reno sat, arms limp at his sides, leaning back against the lockers with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling. His friend doubted, however, that he was really looking at anything at all.

The redhead sighed. "Was he just messing with me? Or is he really--" He swallowed thickly, reached up and scraped the back of his hand over his mouth for the fifth time since he sat down. "Shit."

"Is there a problem?" Tseng asked. "I know you don't like him--" Reno slanted him a look that quite clearly awarded him the title of the universe's biggest moron. The slim man held up both arms, waving his hands in defense. "Okay, he's a complete prick! We all know he is." He sunk down to sit on the bench, swinging his legs over the other side so he could turn and face Reno. "But if that was all, you wouldn't be so upset by what he did."

Reno's cheeks flushed a pale pink, fading the marks cut under either eye. Tseng still wondered where he had gotten those--for scars to be so clean they must have been intentional, but Reno had never been the type to cut himself. The inky-haired youth could only assume it was from one of the many fights the redhead had been in before they met.

Reno had been fighting as long as Tseng could remember, physically and psychologically. The Wutaian knew that his friend has troubles at home, problems keeping care of his sisters and something involving the mother that never seemed to be home long enough for Tseng to meet; outside his house was no different. Reno was small--not short, but petite. Like a girl. Bird-boned and pale, with movements like silk and a temper like dynamite it was only a matter of time before he got his ass handed to him. Tseng couldn't recall a single day since he had known the slightly-younger teen that Reno hadn't gotten into a fight, usually due to someone poking at his looks.

It wasn't Reno's fault he looked like a girl. He dressed as masculinely as he could afford--which meant a t-shirt and faded jeans with holes in the knees--but there was nothing anyone could do to hide the fact that his facial structure bore more similarities to that of his sisters than his father.

"It's just..." He sighed and shook his head, closing his bright blue eyes. "I'm not like that. I don't want to be like that." He lowered his head, opening his eyes halfway, brow creasing. "I don't want to be how Mr. Wallace says I am. I'm not that kind of person."

Tseng sighed and scooted forward, slipping off the bench to sit on the floor beside his bewildered friend. "Even if you were it's not like any of us would care," he reminded the azure-eyed teen. "I mean, come one Reno--think of who you're talking to here."

The redhead nodded--it was impossible to forget that Tseng was the Vice-Principal's favorite fucktoy. The Wutaian was so attached to the man that they were practically joined at the hip. Reno doubted, however, that Rufus felt the same way about Tseng. That was yet another reason the young redhead was so lost. Even if something came of what Sephiroth had done, who was to say it wouldn't be one-sided? He didn't want to end up like Tseng, a loyal lapdog and a pretty toy to be put on display to every mob boss they dealt with. He was sure Rufus dealt with all of them, and had no doubt that he flaunted his prettyboy whenever he got the chance.

Elena was a different story, though. Where Tseng was interested so completely in one person he tended to forget the world around him, Elena didn't care much about anyone. There was a glimmer of like for Strife, but Reno doubted anything would come of that. Jocks were jocks and geeks were geeks and never the twain would meet. But he worried about her sometimes, too. She was more masculine than he was these days, if not as outspoken. But she was alone aside from himself, Tseng, and her brothers. And her brothers kind of sucked, anyway.

He didn't want to end up like her, either.

Reno sighed and brought up his legs, circling them with his arms and leaning his chin on his knees. "What am I gonna do, Tseng? What should I say next time we see each other?"

"Say what you want to say," he replied. "That, or don't say anything at all. If anything should come from it it should be from his end--he started it."

"Nothing's gonna come of it. I hate the prick, that's all there is to it. He's a complete ass. He's probably more worried about the fucking homecoming game than the shit he's putting me through."

Reno had no idea how wrong he was.