IV
“Rufus is not his father, you know.”
Cloud looked up at the Turk hovering over him, raising an eyebrow in silent query.
“A lot of people try to pin the blame for what Shinra’s done on him,” Elena explained, striding confidently to his side and seating herself on the ledge. He couldn’t help but notice how she’d changed since they had first seen her: a green rookie confronting them in the Mithril Mines and leaking more information than she should have.
Or perhaps not. Till this day, he’d never found out whether that leak had been intentional or not.
But it seemed that she’d left her rookie days behind somewhere between then and now. Today, the lady that sat next to him, impeccably decked out in a close fitting suit, two pistols holstered in plain sight and other weapons doubtless concealed on her person, looked every inch the sleek and deadly killer.
“And goodness knows he tries to shoulder that blame,” Elena was saying. “But at the end of the day, he wasn’t responsible for dropping the plate, or bankrupting the people, or building the company that sucked the Planet dry. He never did like mako. He had a soft spot for animals, after all.”
Cloud had to blink at that, but it wasn’t hard to recall a certain jet black panther, faithfully standing by her master’s side while Rufus sniped at him with a double barrel shotgun.
“What happened to her?”
“Who?”
“Dark Nation.”
“I’m… not sure. She survived the fight with you, thanks to prompt medical attention and all the resources of the science department that Rufus could bring to bear. He was quite distraught, you know. He was far more worried about her than he was for himself. I hear she died in Weapon’s blast.” Elena paused, tapping a finger thoughtfully against the side of her chin. “It’s possible that the reason he survived was thanks to Dark Nation’s shielding magic…”
They said that animals could tell if a person was good or bad. Cloud himself didn’t quite buy into that, but it was possible that Rufus had something to command such loyalty.
“Are you saying that Rufus would have shut down all the mako reactors?”
“Maybe. He mentioned it once or twice, but it simply wasn’t feasible. Largely, I think he saw them as a necessary evil.” Something that might have been sadness flashed briefly across the Turk’s face, and she lowered her chin to her knees as she drew her legs in. “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if he’d taken over at a time when things weren’t all going wrong.” She glanced over at him. “That’s why we still follow him, you know. It’s not for the money or anything, and at the end of the day, we’re still human. We wouldn’t follow someone if he were as evil as people make him out to be.”
Cloud stared moodily off into the distance.
“He has a plan. A good plan. And the resources to make it happen. He just needs people to help him.”
“I…” he found himself shaking his head. “I hear what you’re saying. But it’s just hard to gel with what we saw of him. The way he treated Tifa. His inauguration speech.”
“I won’t presume to say that he didn’t mean it, or that he was just trying to scare you… but I can testify that he treated us and the other Shinra employees well. He was strict, yes, but he recognized and rewarded good work as well. And he never acted without good cause. Otherwise he’d probably have fired Heidegger a long time ago.” A small smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “And face it, Cloud. There’s no way that Shinra Company will ever regain the status it used to have. No one would allow it. Ruling by fear or force simply isn’t an option any more.”
She looked over, and this time the sadness continued to linger in her eyes, even as the smile grew to something tentative and warm. “He’s only human. He’s made mistakes – but fewer than what people would pin on him. And he’s lost almost everything. …Can’t you forgive him?”
The
wind rustled quietly through the long blades of grass behind them. There were
no animals here, on this cliff top overlooking the harbour. No insects, no
birds, no chirps or whistles to break the nearly silent air. Just the sun
shining down from the blue sky overhead, the sea of grass behind, and the
peaceful city of
“I … could,” he said slowly, and it was remarkable how hard it was to say those words. “Shinra … was a lot more than just one man, even if he was – is – the President.” He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. “I can forgive him, but he needs to give me reasons to trust him.”
Elena was silent, but he could sense that she was smiling.
“Anyway,” he said at last, when minutes passed without a word. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a mission?”
“In good time. Do you want to join me? Tseng radioed to say that you would be coming along.”
He blinked, noticing that she had stood, and was waiting for him, one gloved hand resting lightly on a black clad hip, the other extended towards him. “I’ll go with you,” he mumbled, grasping the proffered hand and allowing himself to be pulled up.
*
It was a house, one of those numerous pre-fabricated ones that had sprung up on the outskirts of towns everywhere. Here in Junon, they were military issue, used to house those rendered homeless by the Weapons’ attacks, as well as the steady stream of refugees from Midgar.
It looked distressingly like the Slums.
Instincts
he had thought forgotten – buried somewhere in the past with Zack, or released
gently into the cold waters of the pool before the
--no I’m not—
But having to battle them off would just waste valuable time. So you have to slip along, all quiet like, but you have to walk with confidence, understand, make it seem like you’re there and you own the place and you belong. Blend in. Nevermind that you have a weapon almost longer than you are tall strapped to your back. You have the uniform. If you have the walk as well, no one’s going to ask questions.
…They know better than to ask, anyway. Heh.
“We’re here,” Elena murmured, pausing at the corner, careful to stay out of sight. The Buster Sword might have attracted attention, but the black Turk’s suit? Would have stood out like a flashing beacon in this part of town.
“Which one is it?” Cloud asked.
“Number 18, the one just across the street.” Elena nodded in the direction of a house, indistinguishable from all the other houses.
“Do we just go and knock? Or do we do the break and entering thing?”
Elena looked thoughtful as she survived the target. “If I were on my own, I’d break and enter. And I rather think I’ll do that anyway. But you go round to the front door and knock. I’ll keep an eye on the back in case he tries to run.”
He started to acknowledge, but she had already gone, slipping away like a shadow. Shrugging, he squared his shoulders and stepped towards the door.
No one answered his frantic knocking, of course, although several neighbors poked their heads out of their windows to glare.
“He’s not home, is he?” Cloud asked.
No one answered, and he shrugged, turning his attention back to the door, raising his hand to knock again—
“—you’re Cloud Strife, aren’t you?” someone exclaimed.
He glanced up in surprise then, as the rest of the street broke into choruses of agreement and a gaggle of teenaged girls on the sidewalk started squealing spontaneously.
“Oh goodness. Stay there, man, I need your autograph!” someone called and disappeared from his window. There was a series of thumps as someone clattered down the stairs, drowned out by all the other thumps as doors slammed, and people turned out to gawk.
“What…” he stared, flabbergasted, at the way the street filled up abruptly, people hovering in a cautious circle around him, trying to get close to him, but none of them quite daring to encroach. “I…” he found himself retreating against the door of the house, hands held up defensively. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m busy at the moment… could I get back to all of you?”
“Awww, whaddya want with him anyway?” one of the teenaged girls called out. “He’s just a crazy guy who stays at home all the time and doesn’t talk to anyone…”
And with that bold shout, the rest of the voices rose again into a deafening babble, each demanding his attention, each plying him with questions, more than he could ever hope to keep track of. So much for making a quiet entry…
“I can’t answer your questions if you’re all talking at the same time—“
“CLOUD!”
The door slammed open behind him, knocking him over. Elena came bolting out and tripped over him.
“Elena, what—“
“Stay down!” Elena yelled. “It’s going to—“
The rest of her words were drowned out by the explosion that tore through the house. He cringed at the blast, ears screaming in protest, eyes squeezed shut, bracing himself for the pain.
The blast ripped into the barrier that Elena had set up around them, and tore straight through.
*
It was the beeping that woke him up again, and he floated for a while in that space between consciousness and unconsciousness, wondering how something so quiet could yet be so loud. And so persistent.
Then sensation washed over him – the glare as his eyelids cracked open, the warm tingling of wounds tended to with materia, the ache of abuse muscles.
Been working out too hard… wonder what I was doing…
“Is he awake?”
“Seems that way, sir.’
There was something familiar about those voices, one male and one female. But they weren’t Tifa and Barret, or Aeris and Zack, and—
--he shot awake then, practically bolting upright, glancing frantically around.
“I see. He is awake.” Gold and white moved in the corner of his vision, and he turned to see Rufus seated by his side, a contemplative look upon his face.
“Told you, sir.”
The other voice had to be Elena’s, then, and he confirmed it a moment later when his eyes found the other bed in the room. Elena waved weakly at him, venturing a smile.
He didn’t return it.
“How… what happened?”
“It was a trap,” Rufus replied. “He rigged his house to blow.”
He could remember it now – the blast, the explosion, the screams that reached dimly through the ringing in his ears, his own voice yelling, inaudible, telling them to run, to get out of the way, the heat, the pain, the searing supernova that engulfed his world…
His fists had clenched, and his breathing was ragged in his ears. “How many? How many people died?”
Rufus was silent, and Cloud turned to glare at him. “Don’t even think of avoiding that question!”
Rufus’ eyes flickered shut briefly as he heaved a sigh. “Twenty three dead. The total injuries count isn’t in yet, although preliminary reports put it somewhere near eighty. Bear in mind that the blast was large enough to decimate the area anyway—“
“—not if I hadn’t been there,” Cloud found himself saying. “If they hadn’t been crowding around me… they’d have been in their houses and they would have been fine…”
“The blast was large enough to level the houses in the immediate surroundings, Cloud,” Elena said. “It’s not your fault.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes it is. I shouldn’t have gone. I should never have put them into this kind of danger.”
“You could hardly have predicted it, Strife,” Rufus said.
He was shaking violently, shivers wracking his frame. “How did I survive?”
“I had a barrier up…”
“Strife, it is not your fault.”
“I… don’t care about whose fault it is. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been there.” He tugged away the covers, flinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m going home.”
He thought he heard Rufus sigh, but he didn’t care any more. Couldn’t care any more. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want anything more to do with Shinra, or the world. He just wanted to get away, as far away as Fenrir could take him. Maybe somewhere out there, upon a lonely road with just the plains for miles around, he’d be able to calm the raging hurt inside of him.
He fumbled for the Buster Sword, found it resting against the foot of the bed, and half stumbled, half walked to the door, his mind a whirling mass of confused emotions. His hand was shaking as he twisted the doorknob and yanked the door open, his nerves afire as he stepped through—
--and promptly slammed into someone.
“I—Cloud!”
Cloud glanced up from where he had lost his balance and sprawled untidily onto the floor. Reeve stood over him, a surprised and worried expression on his face.
“What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time.
“I…” Reeve began
“Never mind.” Cloud shoved himself off the floor and picked up the Buster Sword from where he had dropped it. “I was just leaving anyway.”
“Cloud.” Reeve caught him by the shoulder as he attempted to push past. “I was here to talk to Rufus, but it’s good that you’re here too. I wanted to—“
Cloud eyed him wearily. “Reeve, I just want to go home.”
“It’s not going to take long. Please, just stay and listen.” He eyed him critically. “And you look terrible. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just…” he shrugged. “What were you here to talk about?”
“Shinra, actually.” He turned. “Hello Rufus, Elena. It’s been a while.”
Rufus turned his wheelchair to face him, regarding him coolly. “It has, indeed. How did you find us here?”
“Cloud sent a message a day or so back, actually. Said that you were rebuilding Shinra Company that you’d asked him to audit your files. And that you’d extended the invitation to me.”
“Ah, yes. So I had.”
“Just what are you planning?”
“On repaying the debt that Shinra owes to world.” Rufus smiled, very slightly. “The one you were always going on about.”
“And you’re going to rebuild the Company to do that?”
Rufus’ eyes flicked to Cloud. “I’ve already been over my reasons in detail with Strife. He seemed pretty satisfied with them. You can take it up with him.”
Reeve released Cloud’s shoulder to walk over to Rufus’ wheelchair. Cloud sighed and turned, leaning against the wall and settling in to watch.
“If you want to repay the debt that Shinra owes to the world, there are better avenues than rebuilding the Company.”
“Are you afraid of something?” Rufus queried quietly. “Some sort of curse, perhaps? That, despite my intentions to the contrary, Shinra Company will rise up to become the monster that it once was?”
Reeve met his gaze steadily. “I know Shinra. I know you. …Forgive me for speaking frankly, but… the world doesn’t need an autocracy.”
“I’m trying to build a company, not take over the world. At some point in time, the world needs service providers, after all.” Rufus’ smile was brittle. “You say you know me. And maybe you did. Or maybe you didn’t. How long was I President? A handful of weeks. Nothing more. Not even enough time to get the new nameplate up on the door, if I recall.”
Reeve sighed. “You still play with words, Rufus.”
“Surely you didn’t come here expecting me to silently acquiesce to everything you wanted to propose.” He glanced off to the side. “Please. Take a seat. Or shall we move this to my office?”
Reeve pulled up the indicated chair and sat, assuming an earnest expression. “It won’t take long. I just wanted to ask you to work with us. The World Restoration Order, that is. If you’re as keen on repaying Shinra’s debt as you say you are, then the WRO is surely the best avenue for that.”
“The world doesn’t need an autocracy,” Rufus said dryly.
Reeve glanced at Cloud, who hadn’t moved throughout the entire exchange, as if asking him for assistance. Cloud returned an expressionless stare.
“The WRO’s not an autocracy. We’re—“
“—democratically elected?”
“No…”
“Countered by political checks and balances?”
“Well, of course not…”
“Judicial ones?”
“You know as well as I that there’s no court of law…”
Rufus spread his hands, but where Cloud had expected a snide comment, the President simply remained silent. Letting the point speak for itself.
Reeve sighed. “We don’t have political power. We’re simply going to assist with the reconstruction of areas decimated by Meteor, provide social support for those who can’t support themselves economically, help them to establish self government and…”
“…and what do you need me in the way for? Face it, Reeve. The moment I step into that boardroom of yours, everything is going to turn political very, very quickly. I’m afraid I’d be far more of a hindrance than a help.”
“What do you mean?” Reeve said, frowning.
“Once an engineer, always an engineer,” Rufus murmured. “Just about everyone has pre-formulated impressions of Shinra Company. You do. Strife does. The average man in the street does. Some people never want to hear the name ever again. Some people would pay good money to see the Company standing on its feet once more. Some people want to ride on our coattails to power.” He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his wheelchair. “I received countless offers of assistance from numerous parties, if only they would be offered a seat on the Board of Directors.”
“And what did you do with them?”
“My shredder has been extremely busy.”
Reeve chuckled, a sound that broke the rising tension in the room. Cloud felt himself breathe out, and allowed himself to shift slightly, moving his weight to the other foot. He caught Elena’s eye then, and the Turk mouthed Bureaucrats at him. Despite his somber mood, it brought a small smile to his face.
“Still not interested in money, are you?” Reeve canted his head slightly. “You are strange. You claim to be a businessman, but you’re not interested in money. If so, then the only reason you’re building the Company must be for… power. Influence.”
Rufus leaned back. “Honestly, you. If you really want a shopping list of my motives… While the WRO is concerned with keeping people fed and housed right now, Shinra’s concerned with making sure that they have warm houses come winter and a future to look forward to once the immediate crisis is past. I get a sense of personal satisfaction of doing what people are terming the impossible. I still have paychecks I have to sign, and bankrupt Turks make for whiny Turks.” He ticked points off his fingers as he talked, and just then, Cloud noticed that he sounded more like the twenty three year old he was than the jaded ex-de facto leader of the world.
Plans. Hopes and dreams. Those he could understand. Could recall a sunny day under a clear blue sky, with wind whipping through his hair. Could recall a voice, hauntingly familiar and greatly missed, speculating about the future, about jobs, about all the things he – they – would do.
I know, I’m going to become a mercenary!
Not for the first time, he wished that he had been able to look up, to smile back, to tell the older man that he was game for it, and wouldn’t we just rock at the job, you and I…
Zack.
What if…
And yet, if he’d gone with Zack, he’d never have wound up at that train station, never have met Tifa again, never have joined Avalanche…
And if they had not battled Sephiroth, all seven of them, perhaps he wouldn’t have been standing here today.
“I see you’ve made up your mind,” Reeve said, jolting him out of the contemplative daze he had fallen into. He glanced up, but the WRO leader was still talking with Rufus.
Rufus ducked his head briefly. “Believe me when I say that you don’t need the complications of Shinra Company being part of the WRO. People might well start accusing you of being an autocracy and attempting to take over the world in a new guise.” His gaze was sharp, piercing, and entirely too knowledgeable, and Cloud was acutely grateful that it wasn’t direct at him.
“Remember,” Rufus said, “that you were once a part of Shinra Company as well.”
And unspoken were the words: The blood on our hands… is on yours as well.
“I tried my best,” Reeve said stiffly.
“We all did.”
“You…”
“I was in Junon for the most part,” Rufus said sharply. “With the communications links mysteriously and conveniently down for weeks on end. Kindly remember that fact.”
Reeve sighed, and glanced away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that… we need all the help we can get.”
“Tell me what you need. I’ll see if we can lend you any assistance. But leave me to decide whether it goes on or off the record.”
Reeve’s gaze turned to him then, and Cloud raised a querying eyebrow.
“I didn’t forget about you, Cloud,” Reeve said. “And I wanted to extend my request to you. Would you like to join the WRO?”
He pushed himself away from the wall, his eyes narrowed. “There isn’t much that one person can do. I don’t have the money, the equipment… or anything. You don’t need a mercenary. You need people like him,” he nodded curtly at Rufus, “who have the knowledge and the expertise to run and manage things.” He shrugged. “I’m just a courier. Call me if you have any packages to deliver.”
“Cloud, you’re an influential—“
Biting heat of the flames, screams that reached to the core of his soul and dug into it like a million shards of glass…
“I don’t want anything to do with anything. With Shinra. With the WRO. With saving the world or rebuilding it or whatever.” The words spilled out, seemingly of their own volition, harsh enough to make Reeve flinch. He choked the rest of the tirade back with an effort. “I … just want to go home.”
His gaze flicked across the room, pausing briefly on Rufus. And stopped in surprise. The President was smiling, a small, sad smile, almost wistful: a gesture so foreign, so unexpected, that Cloud found himself staring.
“We need you, Cloud,” Reeve said. “I know you’ve had a rough few weeks, but surely you’ll think about it? Here, you have my number. Call me if you change your mind. We’re getting Barret in on it, and Nanaki, and—“
Cloud shook his head, glancing down at his boots.
“It’s your choice, of course.” It was Rufus’ voice that reached him. “And I’m sorry things turned out the way they did. But… Strife… Cloud… you saved the world. I’m afraid it’s here to stay now. You’ll have to face it again one day.”
“That’s all you want me for, isn’t it?” he asked dully. He should have been angry, a little part of his mind told him. He should have yelled at them: all you want me to do is to put my name, my face, on your projects, so that people will fall brainlessly in line… it’s not me you want. It’s the Guy Who Saved the World. What about Barret, then? Or Tifa? They were the ones who got Avalanche started. They’re the ones you should be crediting, not me. I was just another tagalong, someone in the right place at the right time…
But the words just made him tired, falling on him like gray, dreary rain that soaked through his clothes and dragged him down. He didn’t even have the energy to be vehement.
“Please—“ a voice called, as if from a great distance.
“Let him be, Reeve,” another voice said. “Strife, we brought your bike from Healin. It’s parked out in front. The keys are in your room.”
He wasn’t sure if he called an acknowledgement or not, as he turned and left the room.