My Vietnam
26 May 2014
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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?
"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.
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Rufus Shin-Ra was known the world over for wearing white suits with black accents. Always. But for Sephiroth's funeral, he bent his rule and appeared before the world attired in somber funereal black from head to toe, never mind that it made him look washed out.
After all, Toriko Shin-Ra, Sephiroth's daughter, was far more bloodless at the funeral.
Rufus stayed close to his "niece" in the week after Sephiroth's death and up to the funeral. She didn't say much after President Shin-Ra had told her what happened. Rufus found Toriko staring out of the window most days, but unlike in the weeks before her father's disappearance, there was no annoyance or quiet hurt.
Just...nothing. Like she wasn't even there.
Rufus, Dark Nation, and Rufus's butler Malcolm made sure Toriko ate, slept, and otherwise kept herself in good shape. Her general listnessness was so complete that Rufus briefly considered checking her into a facility, but she didn't try to hurt herself and she wasn't completely closed off. Toriko was simply and very deeply shocked. Who could blame her? Sephiroth was—well, had been—the most powerful man in the world. And dying in an AVALANCHE ambush was not the way anyone had thought he would go.
(He hadn't actually died that way, but President Shin-Ra seemed determined to keep the details of Sephiroth's death to himself. That piqued Rufus's interest and not just because it would give Toriko some badly-needed answers.)
It was a closed-coffin funeral, ostensibly out of respect for Sephiroth and his legendary desire for privacy. Only Rufus, the President, Toriko, and the Executives knew there was nothing in the black-lacquered coffin. To deter crazed fans and necrophiliacs, the empty coffin would later be cremated and Toriko would scatter the ashes on the wind. Now, however, the coffin was covered in flowers. Mostly white with deep green leaves; peonies, lilies, and huge fat-headed mums predominated. In contrast, Sephiroth's fellow SOLDIERS and other members of the army had brought yellow flowers of every shape and size and those covered the walls of the reception hall. A solid block around the hall, mourners carried whatever flower "suited Sephiroth" the best, with some Silver Elite members actually carrying bouquets of literal steel roses.
The ceremony was appropriately long. President Shin-Ra talked throughout most of it, spinning a convincing narrative about how Sephiroth was an orphaned child, adopted by the President himself for his exemplary service in the War. He waxed poetic about how Sephiroth's discipline and strength were an inspiration, but his loyalty to his countrymen and his family trumped all. He even managed to spin something positive out of the most embarrassing moment of Sephiroth's public life, the day he'd announced the existence of his illegitimate daughter out of the blue. Rufus had to give it to the Old Man, he was a great public speaker. He had the audience nodding along, crying, and even chuckling quietly when appropriate. He made Sephiroth sound like a whole person.
Rufus knew better. Every Executive did, but none of them would ever tell anyone about Sephiroth's temper. About his overwhelming, sometimes inappropriate pride. About how the threat of violence always simmered under his stoic surface, except when Toriko was around. And Rufus himself knew that when Sephiroth got very angry, he would hit and choke Toriko, blinded by the wildness of his immature emotions.
It was just as well that the Old Man had sent him away from Midgar, though the reason why he'd done so was...less than appropriate.
Rufus kept his eyes on President Shin-Ra and his arm tightly around Toriko's shoulders. She was not at ease around President Shin-Ra ever since he'd raped her in his office. That was why Sephiroth had been ordered away. He'd lost his temper and attacked the President, but rather than make a spectacle of him, the President had given Sephiroth to Hojo to study for a while and then sent him out on assignment. He probably had some idea of getting Toriko again, but Rufus hadn't given him the opportunity, taking Toriko into his house and rarely leaving her alone. The Old Man hadn't said anything about this yet, but Rufus didn't expect him to. The Old Man could be very patient...
The ceremony took about an hour. All the Executives spoke about Sephiroth, and at the very end, Toriko herself stood at the podium. She had a speech, a rather poignant one that Rufus had seen on the kitchen table. She didn't stick to it at all.
"I didn't know my father until I was eleven years old," she said. "But he's been part of me my entire life. And I know he's with me now. I'm sad, because I know I won't be able to see him for a very long time. But I'm not going to despair, because Father wouldn't want that. Three years wasn't enough to know everything he was, but I hope that in the years to come, I won't disappoint him.
"To everyone who loved him, supported him, respected him, thank you. Your regard for him shaped him as much as he shaped you; he became a hero for your sake. All I ask is that you become people who I'm not ashamed to say that he died for."
At any other time that last sentence would have sounded combative, but Toriko spoke so softly and her gray-green eyes were so shadowed that no one could ever think that she was anything other than griefsticken. Her speech was easily the shortest, but it nevertheless ended the ceremony. Cameras from every station broadcasting all over the world had captured every moment.
Members of SOLDIER lined the path to the crematorium, and the road before the funeral procession was thick with white flower petals. It was about a quarter of a mile long, but every foot was packed with mourners. Rufus had no idea why. Most of these people had never met Sephiroth, but for some reason they felt a connection to the man. Maybe he'd saved the life of a loved one. Maybe he inspired them somehow. There were just so many people who were sad that Sephiroth was dead.
Privately Rufus wondered if his own funeral would look anything like this, then put the thought out of his mind. He was planning to live for a damn long time.
Members of Sephiroth's preferred squad, the Seventh, carried the coffin. Toriko walked behind them, spinning a tarnished silver ring on her finger. It had used to belong to Sephiroth and according to the mythos of Toriko's birth, he'd given it to her Wutaiese mother. Upon her death, she'd given it to Toriko and that was how Sephiroth had recognized her when she'd first come to Midgar. The truth was decided more murky, but long story short, the Touph Ring was one of the few things that Toriko had left of her father. In the days since his death, she'd taken to spinning it almost neurotically. Rufus half-worried that she'd wear the skin off her finger, but most of the time she didn't even seem to realize she was doing it.
The coffin burned, the church bells all over the city rang, and that evening Rufus and Toriko went back to her home. She'd been there sporadically since Sephiroth had originally left five weeks ago to pack clothes and things, but now...
"You can stay with me for as long as you like," said Rufus to Toriko as they entered. The breath seemed to rush out of her as soon as she stepped into the apartment, which like Rufus's was a penthouse. Rufus had only been to Sephiroth's apartment once in all their association, but he was surprised at the difference between then and now. Back then, Sephiroth had basically still been a bachelor, with Toriko in his life less than a day, and his décor had reflected that—plain furniture, no cushions or any color aside from black leather. But now that he'd been sharing his space for three years, it looked markedly different. A very soft throw blanket of a deep red material was folded up on the back of the black leather couch, draping over cream-colored pillows in the corners. There was a plush area rug on the floor, no doubt because Toriko always took off her shoes indoors and liked to walk on something soft. And there were plants on the balcony outside, as well as a place to sit. Sephiroth always hated the noise of city traffic and would never go out if he could help it; again, the sitting place had to be for Toriko.
"Thank you, but no," said Toriko, sounding very tired. "You should go home, Rufus."
"I'd rather not leave you alone," he said, folding his arms.
"Then leave a Turk. Or Dark Nation." She looked at him and smiled faintly, saying, "I won't do anything stupid to myself. But right now, I just... I really do want to be alone."
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
"I'm not comfortable with that, Toriko."
"I told you, I'll be fine."
"You forgot to eat every day for the past week unless someone reminded you," said Rufus. As Toriko sighed, he said, "I'm not going to have you wasting away. If you want to sleep here tonight, fine. But I'll stay here too."
"We don't have a guest bedroom, Rufus."
Rufus was almost surprised before he remembered that Sephiroth never, ever entertained visitors at his house. Toriko was not likely to sleep in Sephiroth's bed, but she would definitely take it amiss if he slept there.
"I'll sleep on the couch," said Rufus. When Toriko raised her brows, he said, "It'll be like college all over again."
"You really don't have to do this," said Toriko a bit more firmly.
"I disagree."
"...Suit yourself," said Toriko, rolling her eyes. It was a relief to see something other than depression on her face. "I'm going straight to bed."
"Eat something first."
"Ugh, fine."
Rufus had been cared for his entire life by various servants and what, so he'd never actually seen anyone cook. Though she looked and moved like she was exhausted, Toriko still made a simple omelette of eggs and cream and covered the whole thing with thin slices of cheese. It was large. They split it. It definitely wasn't gourmet cooking, but having watched Toriko make the thing gave the omelette a special sort of flavor that Rufus couldn't put his finger on.
It was only when he realized that Sephiroth and Toriko had done this for each other every day that he could name the feeling; envy. Rufus's parents had never cooked him anything or spent more time with him than they had to.
"Now I'm going to bed," Toriko said. "Actually, I'm going to take a shower and then go to bed. There's a second full bath upstairs if you need something."
"You have a second full bath but no guest bedroom?"
"Upstairs is Father's study and... Well," she chuckled humorlessly. "You can go upstairs and look yourself."
How enigmatic. As Toriko walked off to bathe, Rufus took her invitation and went upstairs. The only way up was a black wrought-iron spiral staircase that seemed both ostentatious and yet perfectly suited to Sephiroth's style.
" 'Over the top' seems to be the theme of the day," thought Rufus as he walked up into Sephiroth's study. Perhaps all the flowers and the petal-strewn walkway to the crematorium weren't quite so far from Sephiroth's tastes after all. Downstairs was full of light and plainly decorated, but the study had an peculiarly low ceiling and a distinctly old world feel to it. Actually, despite being a second floor, it felt rather like a basement. The closed-in feeling came from the use of lots of dark wood, a paneled ceiling, and very thick, soft, dark red carpet covering the entire floor. Bookshelves lined every wall, stuffed with books that Rufus had no idea Sephiroth had ever read, let alone known about. But one wall was less packed. Rufus walked over to it and saw with a slight pang that it was full of awards from Toriko's school. Perfect attendance, honor roll, especially praised pieces of homework...
Sephiroth's desk up here was just as neatly organized as the one in his building office, which was no doubt being reshuffled for Heidegger's tastes. Rufus flipped idly through the papers, nothing catching his eye. He looked at some of the books on the shelves.
"Military strategy... Swordsmanship... Swordsmanship and philosophy... More philosophy... Sephiroth appears to be a fan of the Stoics, no surprise there..."
Among all the nonfiction was a brand new copy of Loveless. Bemused, Rufus pulled it out and flipped it open.
"Let's talk sometime," said the handwritten note on the inner cover. "I miss you. G."
That was suggestive. Rufus flipped through the rest of the book, but there was nothing more incriminating than that. Of greater interest was that Sephiroth hadn't even cracked the spine and the glue was quite old; apparently he'd never read the thing. Poor G, thought Rufus cynically, giving the ultimate romantic play to someone who was loveless indeed.
Toriko's comment about "see for yourself" and Rufus's question about the guest bedroom were soon answered. What should have been a guest bedroom was instead an armory/trophy room, with arms and armor from fallen enemies arranged alongside weapons Sephiroth had used himself. The Masamune was missing of course, but there were a variety of other Wutaiese weapons, Continental weapons, and a whole wall of high-level materia. There was even a chest of rare elixirs, hi-ethers, and other potions that were lifesavers on the battlefield. Was it general paranoia that had Sephiroth better prepared than the Midgar Garrison? Or something more sinister?
Gradually Rufus admitted to himself that it was creepy and invasive to be looking around a dead man's office, so he went downstairs. Toriko was still in the shower. He did not keen his ears for any sobbing. Instead Rufus sat down on the couch, opened up Loveless, and started reading. He was a third of the way through the first act when Toriko came out. She'd changed into soft pajamas, but instead of typical buttoned flannel she was wearing what looked like a long, clinging jersy tunic.
"Here," she said, giving him a blanket and a real pillow.
"Looks like you're prepared for guests after all," said Rufus, taking them from her.
"I sleep with three blankets," said Toriko. "I can do with two tonight."
"Three?"
"It's just comfortable that way. I like when things are soft. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," said Rufus. It was only 9pm and normally he'd be awake for five more hours, but he stifled a yawn as Toriko left. The day had started early and just kept going, with precious little time to rest, eat, or even sit down. Rufus settled the couch the way he wanted and then went back to reading. He got another third of an act down before before sleepiness finally won out, which seemed to hit him harder than normal.
An hour later Toriko came out into the living room, green-gray eyes shining in the darkness. There was no trace of the griefstricken girl right now...
...only someone filled with purpose.
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a/n: Welcome to the fic. Hopefully this hit all the pertinent high points. For more background on Toriko and the preceding events that were discussed in this prologue, Chapters 7, 19, 79, 103, and 105 of PYLO would be good reading.
For those of you who have read PYLO, I hope the double-meanings and the way Toriko is acting made you cackle :P
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