Same the World Over

Midgar was supposed to be a marvel of the world. And sure, superficially it was so. That gleaming tower in the sky was impressive, Yuffie thought. But as she pushed through the gate into Sector 7, the perversions that riddled Wutai were equally noxious here.

A group of onlookers were huddled around a television screen. On it was a stacked blonde, pushing a television reporter onto the ground and then climbing atop his face. The cameraman zoomed into the action, her asshole wrinkling as she rode the reporter's face, spewingout propaganda.

They really were just like us, Yuffie thought happily. The same corruptibility, the same weakness of the flesh. The men were catcalling her through the screen, saying how they wanted to fuck her, to taste her, to be anywhere in her orbit.

And then Yuffie listened to the words ... talk of Mako reactors being bombed, and she clapped chirpily.

"Oh oh oh! Whaddya we have here? Man, this has got to be AVALANCHE! Not bad ... not bad at all! But I can do better!"

"Yuffie?" Yuffie spun around, on guard, to see a man with blonde dyed hair, a black goatee, dressed in fatigues. He flashed a moogle hat at Yuffie. She pointed at him in an exaggerated fashion.

"There's our pom!" she said, relieved. Her contact at last. "So you're AVALANCHE?" He rolled his eyes. So much for OPSEC.

"I'm Zhijie," he corrected her. "Follow me." They walked through the slums of Sector 7, Yuffie peering around curiously.

"So Zhijie, why didn't you try to find me before?" Yuffie asked.

"I figured an elite W operative could find her own way," Zhijie shrugged.

"I may be elite but it's not like I've ever been to Midgar," Yuffie pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I didn't think they'd send such an amateur rookie," Zhijie retorted.

"Hey, I'm eighteen!" Yuffie protested. "And I could kick your ass!" He rolled his eyes again at her bravado. They arrived at the local clinic, and Zhijie opened it with a flourish.

"Ladies first."