Authors Note: Yes, this is my first fan fic of any type. I will write (have already written) other stories along these lines, and will have another similar series(?) for Reno at least. Please review, constructive criticism greatly desired, but I'd really like you to say nice things too. Um. Thanks =)
"I never meant nothing, I was just my father's son."-Paul
Simon, My Little Town
Rufus let his head fall forward, as his eyes closed softly. He refused to
look, he would not look. His father didn't look either, but for a different
reason, not that anyone else knew that. His hand held his father's limply,
protected from actually touching by white leather gloves. He let himself be led
by his father's dead arm, quietly following after the man, eyes downcast.
"Now stay here, Rufus." He heard his father say, the small part of his
mind still awake was surprised at the softness in the man's voice, and wondered
idly, if he had not actually been following one of the many guards present. But
no, he dimly recognized the black clothed arm and gloved hand that dropped his
own, as his father moved away.
He stood there, eyes half open, staring at
the ground, arm still slightly raised. Phrases floated to him on the breeze, 'so
young,' 'how sad,' 'tell us?!' 'not even crying' 'so handsome…' Rufus let them
flow over him, caressing and burning.
In time he heard his father's
voice, talking about love and kindness. Rufus lifted his head, noticing in
passing that an older woman, an aunt he presumed, was standing beside him and
running her hand through his light gold hair.
"Oh dear," she said
softly, as he looked up towards his father, "I'm so sorry… I wish I could take
you home."
Rufus' eyes trained on his father, as he listened to the
words sliding out of the man's mouth between unrealistic hitches.
"It's a
terrible tragedy. And it will take a very long time for Rufus and me to recover
from this awful blow," the man's eyes sparkled with tears that didn't fall.
I wonder who wrote this speech, Rufus thought with detached disgust as
his father continued.
"She was under a lot of stress, trying to bring
Midgar to the glory it could have, and I suppose it was just too much for
her."
Too much? Rufus thought, resentment growing into hatred, she never
would have left me… I know it was you, you and some blindly loyal pig… She
didn't do this to herself. She never would have left me with you.
"We
all loved her very deeply, but I know we will preserve her memory in our
hearts…"
No! How can you do this? How can he say that? Rufus' eyes
widened in fury, and he half looked for someone to stop the stream of lies
falling so easily from his father's lips, but he only people he saw were
captured and held by the man's false sorrow. What don't they see? Are they all
really such fools? Why doesn't anyone ever see?
His eyes flicked back to
his father. "This has hurt me deeply, but through all this…"
How could he
do that to her, cheat on her, ridicule her, abandon her, poison her, and then
act like… like she meant something! He considered screaming, crying, throwing
himself at his father, or at the large white box, pounding at it until the
guards pulled him away. It would be forgiven by everyone but the old man
himself, after all, how was a 7-year-old boy supposed to act? It was his very
coldness, his refusal to do anything that made them look at him like they did.
With worry, and a touch of fear, only The Turks, the bodyguards for this
occasion, regarded him calmly, as if nothing had changed. Nothing ever changed
to them.
But everything had changed. Rufus rolled his head slightly, and
returned his gaze to the ground, catching sight of his white shoes. Ah, that was
what had disturbed everyone most of all, the young Shinra's dress. He was
clothed entirely in white, from shoelaces to jacket. It was the white that truly
made them look at him, his father had especially gaped. The man had stood in his
room, dressed in the traditional black and asking how Rufus dare present himself
like that, asked if it was some kind of rebellion.
Rufus had considered
telling him he was too young to rebel, but had opted for silence instead.
Letting his father shout at him, until finally the old man had grabbed his hand
and propelled the boy along and into the car. Rufus had known his father would
not leave him home; the man wouldn't miss the opportunity to show the public the
remains of his grieving family in an attempt to prove that the Shinra
cooperation was more than a lair for monsters. His father was trying to look
human; but Rufus didn't care.
The woman beside him let out a soft sob,
pulling Rufus from his thoughts. Her hand had settled itself upon his shoulder,
which she was squeezing gently. Another sob escaped her. Rufus looked up at her,
at her kind features clouded with sadness. He carefully peeled off his left
glove, and reached up to take her hand.
She smiled down at him, tears in
her eyes. "White… White was her favorite color, you know."
The woman's
hand felt warm and soft in his own. "I know."
He looked to his father
again, who was accepting condolences as he moved towards his son. Rufus dropped
his eyes, and offered his gloved right hand to his father. President Shinra
gripped it firmly, and pulled him away from the woman, Rufus smiled sadly at her
as his father tugged him in front of the photographers, it was his only show of
emotion all day.
Rufus stood, silently, solidly, stoically as the
camera's flashed, his perfect features, and perfect hair, and perfect eyes on
display for the press, just like his mother had been, in the open coffin, while
his father held him too close. White against black.
I wish I could take
you home. She had said. So do I, Rufus thought, staring at the blinking cameras.
But I'll never have a home again.