A/N: I keep writing things which are too short even for me, and my characters never even do anything. They just think and think and think. I suck.

This here was inspired by nothing in particular. Just like that, I wrote a drabble again. Enjoy.

Reno is staring off into space, a can of vile beer forgotten in his hand. Standing on the rooftop, leaning on the balustrade for support, the redhead is thinking. It isn't something he does often. Normally, he doesn't need to. Turks aren't supposed to think too much on their own. They are dogs, trained to do tricks and fulfill tasks.

He is like that, he muses. He's trigger-happy, he shoots before he thinks of a better way to deal with things. He tortures people and gets information out of them, because that's what he's ordered to do. He has to fulfill orders. Otherwise, he dies.

There was one order he never managed to fulfill. None of them did.

Why aren't there any stars visible on the midnight sky in Midgar?... Oh. Of course he knows. Midgar has too many lights, too much mako, and here on the rooftop, it is almost too bright, like a day. Reno hates the city, yet he realises he'll never be able to leave it.

Deep down, he's a coward...

Zack Fair died today. They never managed to save him. He didn't want to be saved by them, apparently. He died, keeping his useless pride, his naïve dreams never came true.

Reno envies him and pities him at the same time. And yet the thing he thinks about most is not Zack's death. It's the expression on Tseng's face when he'd been notified of the event.

Tseng was heartbroken.

Guilt eats at Reno's heart and soul, and something keeps telling him that he should have tried harder, should have done much more to save that man. That this one time, even if the order wasn't official, he should have done everything in his might to accomplish the mission. Tseng trusted him to do something right.

He failed.

The redhead still stares off into space when the city awakens in the morning. He can't believe that there comes a new day.

He slowly leaves the rooftop. Another day as a dog. He hurries back.

Thinking is for those who are free.