Nathaniel just got obscenely lucky, all of them were certain.
Reno wasn't too big of a tea drinker – he enjoyed it in small portions and would always complain about the insistence of using it for certain things. While he understood that, yes, tea was pretty great for many discomforts he was more likely to continuously dodge Nathaniel than drink it when he didn't want it. Then again? With being apart so long there was also the chance he'd comply a lot easier as well, if for nothing other than to savour a familiar feeling.
Nathaniel's luck returning to its normal state of matters was significantly less surprising than the sudden change. Reno stumbled backward with the shove, the struggle with maintaining his own weight forcing him to terms with being a lot more worn out than he'd realised, and with a small, vaguely amused sound, toppled over onto his ass after a step or two. There wasn't much sound in the way of impact as the fall hadn't been hard; if his legs hadn't been so tired he could have easily kept himself upright with a sway. Reno wasn't built to be graceful, something often reflected in his posture. He dropped his hands onto the ground behind himself as a prop, chest sank beneath the forward angled shoulders and his legs spread with his knees pointed out, left bent. The surprised look on his face only lasted long enough for Rude to clear his throat behind him and, chuckling quietly, Reno twisted to look over a shoulder.
While the other Turks and Shin-Ra employee were busy enough addressing the interruption each in their own way (Tseng scowling at Rude, for example, who had his hands folded and head down), it was Rufus who was staring at them, leaning heavily on one arm of the wheelchair, with the knowing smirk on his face. Reno flipped himself over to get up while waving at the small group with one hand, "All right already," he started, trying his best to sound annoyed, "Show's over. Come on, guys."















