Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, characters, places, etc. All rights belong to Square-Enix and their respected owners.
Summary: Post ACC/DoC. Because, sometimes, it's in everyone's best interest if both parties agree to commit to something as mundane as a marriage based on politics and personal gain. Better the devil you know than the one you don't. Rufus/Yuffie
The Arrangement
Chapter Two
Friday was already upon Yuffie before she even had time to realize it; the days passing by in a flurry of sound, travel, and constant movement, just as the reprieve Rufus ShinRa had given her had been, most regrettably, short-lived. She wished for more time, more than anything, yet knew that it would never be granted to her. Time would not stand still, not ever for a noble princess of Wutai; for even if a Materia that had the magical properties to freeze time existed, which could somehow prologue the inevitable into a tireless moment which held that single most expression of thought, she knew that Rufus ShinRa, who had the devil's own luck in surviving an inferno from Diamond Weapon's blast, would somehow manage to speed time up, either through money, his charm, or outright manipulation—or perhaps a combination of all three—and force her into this little "meeting" he had planned regardless.
To Yuffie, her unwanted suitor—if she could even call him that—now lived to make her life miserable, thwarting her every attempt in conveniently staying away from him, it seemed. He'd called twice, earlier in the week, and both times she refused to answer her phone until a message appeared on its screen giving her the time he would arrive to pick her up from her place—she didn't even want to know how he'd found out where she lived—as even Reeve, who had been in contact with his former employer, had sent her a message of his own; extending what Rufus had promised Reeve would do, as the head of the WRO personally gave Yuffie the entire day off.
Yuffie, in response, had sent a return message to Reeve that acknowledged her "day off," as it was, and nothing more. She didn't even bother in making a pretense in thanking him; he wouldn't have expected her to.
After all, Reeve had what he wanted from her, anyhow. The mission in Mideel had been nothing short of a success, and yet Yuffie wished that it had taken her longer to carry out her assignment, since she had to report back to Reeve and the WRO personally. She'd been greatly tempted to send her findings over the phone, but even the most secure line could be tapped, Reeve often reasoned, and so he preferred all confidential cases to be reported back to him in the privacy of the commissioner's office. She'd returned by Thursday afternoon, giving him all the information she'd acquired from her time in posing as one of the tourists who came to indulge in the therapeutic atmosphere that still drew many to the small island. Nothing had been out of place there, and no one, at least to her knowledge, which was fairly astute, even noticed her. It's not like that there was much going on there, anyway.
Reeve's sources, Yuffie secretly suspected, were obviously losing their touch; for as much as she would've loved to have pinned some dirt on Rufus ShinRa, or to at least tie his company to a scandal that would forever damage its already tarnished reputation, nothing had turned up. From what Reeve had attained from his meeting with his former employer, Rufus ShinRa had at least been honest about his not having any part in starting up any reactors—at least no physical trail led back to him, at any rate—or anything dealing with his company causing further harm to the Planet. Which was a shame. Almost. Yuffie would've enjoyed seeing him wriggle his way out of that little predicament, with his silver-toned tongue and charming smile in front of the WRO's tribunal panel. As it stood, however, she found herself forced to give him the benefit of the doubt. For now, anyway, she grudgingly thought as she looked at herself in the mirror in front of her.
Failing to understand why she even bothered in caring about what she looked like, she stared grimly at her reflection and sighed. She wasn't Tifa, who was all legs and a skirt, and was ever the striking beauty that lit up an entire room with one of her smiles. Nor was she an intriguing young woman, like Aerith, who'd naturally drawn attention from every man who'd so much as glanced in her direction. Yuffie was fit, yes, but she was far from being the definition of all that was beautiful and feminine. It just wasn't in her nature to wear a dress and heels, or to simply stand there and look pretty. There was so much more to the world than that. But still…
If her circumstances were different, if it was someone other than Rufus ShinRa taking her out for the night, then she wouldn't be as apprehensive as she was now. It's almost as bad as being hogtied and held upside down on one of Cid's airships.
The thought, though meant to lighten her spirits, did nothing to settle her. In fact, it seemed to make her feel worse as she stared at her frowning expression, her eyebrows knitting together at the sight of her attire. For there she stood, stock-still in silent disbelief, in a dark-green blouse and a black pencil skirt that came only an inch above her knees. It was a far cry from her usual choice, which usually consisted of a thin tank top and a pair of shorts, but it would have to do. She'd been sorely tempted to change back into something she was used to, considering the present ache in her feet from the shiny black patent leather heels she'd strapped on. They were the only pair she possessed—a gift from Tifa, for her birthday last year—and sadly had yet to be broken in. She frowned at her reflection. If Rufus ShinRa didn't end up killing her tonight, then the heels probably would. She huffed at the idea.
Let him try, her thoughts inwardly challenged, and then looked angrily down at her shoes. If her feet bled and had a score of blisters by tomorrow morning was the price in dissuading ShinRa from marrying her, then it would be well worth the trouble. She could deal with a pair of sore feet for a few days; it was a lifetime of enduring one of Wutai's worst enemies that troubled her. She couldn't kill him if she married him; there would be no honor in that at all, although such a thing was known to have happened in the past among some of the rival noble families, yet had never in her own. She would not dishonor her family name by overthrowing her husband in a coup. Even if he's as vile and as disgusting as a Midgar Zolom.
She couldn't ascribe hideous to that description, since the man in question was the direct opposite. Even Yuffie, who had a secret fascination for those in the tall, dark, and broodingly handsome department, when it came to the opposite sex, still had to admit that Rufus ShinRa wasn't all that horrible to look upon. When it came to blonds, he actually put Cloud to shame, not that Yuffie was interested into another woman's man; Tifa would kill her if such was the case, but still, even she could appreciate beauty whenever it happened to walk in front of her.
And that sense of enduring beauty, unfortunately, also came in the embodiment of one Rufus ShinRa: bane of her existence and royal pain in the ass.
A grudging sigh escaped from her as she turned and glanced at the clock on her nightstand table. It was still early, barely a quarter past six, but she still felt a sense of restlessness, almost as if she felt him there, standing directly behind her. It was a discomforting feeling, and was one she had no wish to dwell on, especially as she reluctantly found herself considering how he'd found out where she lived in the first place. She didn't have a landline, since she really only used her cell phone, and she hadn't given her father her address, even though Chekhov had asked for it in the past, just in case they might need it for whatever emergency that she believed was bound to happen arose. Yuffie had yet to give it to Chekhov, who would undoubtedly tuck it away in some secret compartment on her level at the pagoda for safekeeping. Working for the WRO, although it had its perks, was still a dangerous occupation for one in her field. Of course, by the appearance of her apartment, not many would find anything too much out of the ordinary, other than the fact that the proprietor was, decidedly, very much Wutainese.
Banners, all of varying bright colors, added a feeling of vibrancy to the walls, while a score of paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, mainly for decoration, but no less contributing a sense of beauty to the apartment. Really, she mainly used it as a place for sleeping, more than anything. She usually crashed at Seventh Heaven for something to eat, went outside of Edge for some training and target practice, and visited Kalm's Materia shops when she had a little time away from the WRO. Other than procuring a new piece of Materia, an extra shuriken, and the necessity of clothing, there was little else she had here.
Of course, that didn't mean that she didn't want having a feeling of home, wherever she lived, while she worked so far away from her own. A few photos of her friends—from both Wutai and AVALANCHE—were placed, albeit a little haphazardly, in frames on a coffee table in what made up her living room, a small T.V. claiming the other corner of the room. She had very little in the way of food in the kitchen, considering that there were better cooks willing to offer their services to those with a few extra gil to spare. In truth, her apartment was as bland and as commonplace as those of her neighbors', the only thing, perhaps, standing out being the light shade of green she'd painted on the walls that had once been an ugly eggshell white. She'd painted everything herself, and felt that she'd done a damned good job of it, too. Not that someone as uptight and astringent as Rufus ShinRa could ever appreciate it, she thought, remembering just how unnervingly plain everything looked at the lodge. How he managed to live a life among that kind of simplicity and bland sense of modernism was beyond her.
She sighed again, her thoughts returning to Rufus and the inevitable meeting they would have in less than an hour. She hadn't called her father regarding this meeting with his potential son-in-law; she hadn't told anyone, not even Tifa, who would undoubtedly share in her misery and offer words of comfort with a promise to put Yuffie's deadbeat date in his place with her fists if need be. Being a busy proprietress of a successful bar and a new mother to two orphaned children—made so by ShinRa, ironically enough—hadn't at all dulled her friend's prowess in the art of hand-to-hand combat. Even Cloud, who held a large portion of said woman's heart, was still cautiously wary of the childhood friend who had become something more to him since Meteorfall. Indeed, it went without saying that Tifa, although very much the mother of their little group, was probably the fiercest as well—overly protective when it came to those she considered family, and Yuffie herself was considered very much part of that family. Although it's an extended part, she mused with a smile before her momentary happiness was shattered by a sound knock on her door.
Oh…Gawd…No.
Not yet.
Please, not yet.
But the knocking continued on, unabated, and Yuffie found herself—as if magically thrust by some unseen force to the other side of the apartment—answering it.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she ground out sweetly between her clenched teeth, and then remembering to plaster on an almost seemingly genuine smile before opening the door. Her smile instantly fell when she saw him standing there instead of one of his ominous henchmen. She'd thought that one of the Turks would come to collect her, since she imagined their "Boss" was too above the duty in coming for her himself. But there he was, proving her suspicions false, as he stood there in one of his trademark white pinstripe suits with an almost curious look on that handsome, unsmiling face.
"Miss Kisaragi," he calmly addressed, with a deferring inclination of that golden head. "Good evening."
"You're early," she said. It was all she could say. And she felt like a complete idiot because of it. He offered her an amiable smile regardless.
"I'm not one who holds to being late for any occasion," he replied, a subtle reminder of how she'd treated their previous meeting the week before, although there was no malice in his words, only cold, hard fact.
Yuffie could scarcely react to his response, her hand automatically opening the door wider as she allowed him inside—the enemy, into her home, of all places!—as she managed to close the door behind him. His footsteps echoed against the cheap, white marble tiles, their booted heels, combined with a slight tapping of an elegant, black enameled cane that he clutched in his right hand, the only sounds in the room. She almost flushed when she saw him take in the whole of her apartment, that inscrutable face betraying nothing as to what he thought or felt inside. It almost embarrassed her. She didn't know how to feel at all about him being in her makeshift home, and it was this growing sense of uncertainty that compelled her to turn his attention away from her personal taste in home décor and move onto the matter at hand.
"So, yeah, about tonight," she began, more than a little awkwardly. "What…did you have in mind?"
He turned to her, his interest departing from the apartment's fixtures as it moved solely onto her. "I thought we would discuss the particulars over dinner," he ventured, and then took a step in her direction, the black cane that he held giving his white attire a perfect sense of contrast. Yuffie wasn't certain if he used it out of necessity or if it was merely an accessory that he added to all of that overinflated confidence. At least it isn't a shotgun. But that assurance did little to quell the dread growing inside of her.
As if sensing her unease, he spoke again: "I've made reservations at a restaurant in town for 7:30. We can leave now, if you're ready, of course," he said, his gaze lingering over her, and Yuffie inwardly shivered at the feeling that look provided her.
He reminded her of a shark circling in the brackish water as it casually observed its next meal, ready to devour her when she least expected it. She didn't like the way he looked at her at all, those cold eyes, almost a glacial blue with a fiery ring of Mako glimmering at their centers, never ceasing in their silent intake of her. She wanted nothing more than to close those eyes forever, blocking their silent, imposing stare as she turned toward the door and tried to hide the slight shaking in her hands when she grabbed her purse—another gift, this one from Marlene—as she gave him a short nod and opened the door. She said nothing when he joined her and gestured for her to go first as he quietly shut the door behind him.
Affording him enough trust in locking it, she remained unnervingly silent when, out of a most unforeseen gesture, he offered her his arm, which she mechanically took, and followed him out. Relief filled her when she saw that no one was around to see them together; she had no wish to be seen with the likes of Rufus ShinRa, especially now, with her hand imprisoned in the crook of his left arm as his right clasped steadily onto the cane that clicked against the ground with his every step.
The walk down the apartment steps was awkward enough, the journey to his car—a metallic pearl, souped-up sports model that blended in perfectly against the gray-toned walls of the surrounding buildings and apartments—almost impossible. Though even more surprising, perhaps, was the fact that he opened the door on the passenger side, his fingers grasping her upper arm in a silent motion for her to get in, which she did so reluctantly. She looked at him when he crossed over and got into the driver's seat. "You're driving?" she asked, obviously surprised.
He gave her a pacifying look. "Contrary to popular belief, Miss Kisaragi, I do have my driver's license," he drolly remarked, a true attempt in lightening the dismal mood between them. It did little to calm her nerves, however.
"And you fly helicopters too, I'll bet," she said, in spite of her apprehension. "Cloud said that he saw you hanging from the rail of one—singlehandedly, I might add—when he fought you once." She stopped suddenly, realizing what she'd said. Real smart there, Yuffie. Just remind him of the time when Cloud kicked his ass to kingdom come. He'll want to be reminded of that, certainly.
Rufus, however, gave no indication in being affronted, that perfect façade never wavering, not even under her questioning scrutiny. It frustrated Yuffie to no end.
"Actually," he remarkably countered in response, "I allow Reno or one of the other Turks to handle the helicopter. I prefer to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground as much as possible, you understand."
His admission brought any forthcoming retort she may have had short, because, yes, she actually understood his reasons perfectly, considering that it probably wasn't every day that he took a notion to jump off the side of a building and expect his Turks to be there to catch him before he fell. Which reminded her…
"Well, now that you mention it…But, yeah. So, if it's just you and me in this car, where are your shadows, in another car following in behind us?" she baldly asked. Might as well know whether or not she needed to supervise her mouth during this little "business meeting" of theirs.
Her "business partner," on the other hand, gave her a withering look. "I thought to keep my dogs, as you call them, on a leash at home," he returned coolly, subtly reminding her again of their previous conversation, as it came in the form of a sharp reprimand, finely-tuned to the point that Yuffie almost felt a hint of shame. Almost. He changed the subject before she had enough time to register the sentiment. "As it is, though, I decided to come alone, especially since if this is to be a private discussion, then you and I must be warranted the time needed for such an occasion."
She inwardly grimaced at the implication. "Where do you plan to have this meeting, then?" she prompted, trying to keep her tone neutral yet failing miserably.
A blond eyebrow arched in question. "It's somewhere a little more…exclusive, shall we say? What? Would you prefer we go somewhere else?"
Yuffie hesitated, but remembering their deal, she decided to tell him the truth, allowing the chips to fall where they would. "I think we can both agree that eating at Tifa's Seventh Heaven is completely out of the question, especially since I don't want Cloud hovering over us with that hulking, six-pack sword of his. Truth is, ShinRa, I'd rather take this little discussion of ours somewhere private—say, maybe, back at the lodge or something."
Frowning at her insinuation, his hands clutched the car's steering wheel. "You have no wish to be seen with me," he discerned quietly, his inhibitions proving him right when Yuffie looked down in apparent shame.
"It's nothing personal," she offered in consolation, yet knowing that her attempt to mollify him was beyond pathetic. "It's just…It's just everything that's happened between my family and yours. And, really, with your company being pretty much responsible for Sephiroth, Meteor, and nearly screwing up the Planet…yeah…A lot of people aren't all that much into welcoming ShinRa back into their lives any time soon."
His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and Yuffie, to her dismay, noticed. "By ShinRa, do you mean my company, myself personally, or perhaps both?" he enquired, his gaze flicking over to her from the corner of his eye before returning to the road in front of them.
"I…" she began, yet couldn't find it within herself to answer him. She really didn't know for certain what she'd meant, anyway; what she'd said…they were just words, right? Obviously, he wouldn't be happy, no matter what answer she gave him. Already things were not going well, and their evening together hadn't even started yet. She sighed out in exasperation, no longer caring if he approved of her behavior or not. She was tired—tired of trying to sway him to her side on things by her ridiculous outfit and her ridiculous shoes. She wanted nothing more than to crawl in between the sheets on her bed and die. But then, that wouldn't bode well for her dad, let alone for Wutai, if she simply gave up because of some arrogant, know-it-all egomaniac with a former god complex that had somehow managed to show her up on a few things. "Let's just go and have dinner and get this over with," she muttered, crossing her arms as she conceded to his plans.
The young president didn't say another word on the subject. In fact, he didn't say anything at all until they reached their destination as he repeated the same gentlemanly courtesy he'd extended to her earlier, and escorted her into a small, upscale restaurant that Yuffie hadn't even known existed. The cane clicked soundlessly against the lavish green carpet when they entered the main foyer, the dim lighting from the crystal chandeliers above adding to the intimacy of such an exclusive and prestigious establishment that only the wealthy, assuredly, could afford. And yet, for a Friday night, the place was empty, practically deserted, save for them. Yuffie turned toward her silent companion, a questioning look in her eye.
Rufus merely inclined his head, securing her hand on his arm as he led them to where the headwaiter stood, who to Yuffie, reminded her of a stick insect, with his thin frame and finely-trimmed moustache, and who presently looked at her with his beady, spidery eyes before turning once again to his affluent patron.
"Mr. ShinRa," the man addressed formally, yet consciously acknowledging Yuffie. "We have your table already prepared for you and your lady. If you will care to follow me."
Yuffie felt a slight pressure on her arm as she allowed Rufus to lead her to their table, which was cloistered away in a booth that rested in a distant corner. She inwardly groaned at the sight, since the table was clearly made separate from the rest of the restaurant. She shook her head in silent disbelief. Leave it to a brilliant tactician like Rufus ShinRa to find the most convenient table for their discussion in an equally empty restaurant. He probably even bought the place for the night. It wouldn't surprise if he had. The man had obviously orchestrated the entire evening to suit his own ends, and yet she, unbeknownst to him, would come out victorious.
Menus were placed before them before Yuffie had time for another thought, a glass of water duly following suit.
"I'll give you some time to look over everything," the headwaiter said before departing.
Yuffie instantly missed his presence, now finding herself quite alone and trapped in a secluded corner with the one man who was designated to one day become her husband. She glanced in his direction and saw him looking at his menu in silence. How he could think of eating when she herself was all nerves and had no appetite was beyond her. He's probably just being all smarmy about his cornering me into agreeing to this insane proposal of his. She barely noticed him staring at her until he asked if she was ready to order. "I'm afraid that I'm not very hungry right now," she answered, knowing well enough that her response would only further serve to irritate him, especially since it appeared that he was footing the bill. "I'll just have what you're having," she found herself say, half-shocked that she was actually attempting to appease him. She reached for her glass of water to calm her nerves.
"You eat snails very often, Miss Kisaragi?" he questioned, glancing up from his menu.
Yuffie nearly spewed out the water she was drinking on the tablecloth. "What? Snails? That's what you're ordering?" She curled up her nose in apparent disgust. "Gawd…ShinRa, for a man with bookoos of gil, I'd expected you to like something, I don't know, like exotic fish eggs or something. Snails are just…grossness that's reached an entirely new level of grossness."
Rufus stared at her, nonplussed. "I'll remember to keep that in mind, the next time I look at a menu," he replied, the very definition of sarcasm. "Perhaps you should go with the fish platter instead. I hear it's all the rage at the WRO."
She snickered at that. "Making fun of my employer, are we?" she quipped. "Reeve really wouldn't like his secret getting out, you know. But you're right: the man loves his fish. I guess that's why his alter ego is a cat."
Her companion said nothing in response, merely looked at her with those disturbingly glacial blue eyes. His stare, unsurprisingly, made her very uncomfortable.
"What is it now?" she asked, an impatient look following with her next breath. "Surprised by the way I look or something? I can clean myself up from time to time, you know."
"Obviously," he returned quietly, but said nothing further on the subject, his attention drawn to the menu in front of him.
She shot him a look. "And what is that supposed to mean?" she hissed, attempting not to make a scene in front of their phantom audience.
Something flickered across his face, although Yuffie couldn't discern whether it was simply irritation or some kind of twisted sense of amusement until his expression returned to that impassive piece of stone that served as his face. "It means exactly what it does, Miss Kisaragi," he answered, his slender fingers reflexively splaying out across the silken tablecloth. He looked up from his menu and regarded her quietly. "From the few times I've had the pleasure in meeting you, I've only ever seen you in casual attire. So to see you in something other than a pair of shorts and a shirt that exposes that lovely midriff of yours is something in which I've taken note."
A dark eyebrow lifted in surprise. "So you prefer women in dresses that cover their stomachs," Yuffie wryly surmised. "Fact noted." She heard him breathe out of his nose, his irritation, also, noted, and she smiled. Perhaps an evening with Rufus ShinRa wouldn't be so terrible, after all.
When their waiter returned, both Rufus and Yuffie gave him their orders before resuming the uncomfortable silence between them. On Yuffie's end, she secretly wished that he would say something—anything—since his withdrawn attitude did little to quell the tension between them. When he failed to rise to the occasion, she took it upon herself to end their stalemate.
Setting the napkin that held her silverware aside, Yuffie placed her hands on the table, a stern indication that he pay attention to her. "All right," she began confidently, "now that we're here and alone for the moment, let's get down to business." When she saw him gesture to continue, she obliged him with a forced smile. "As you know, my dad's already given me his reasons for why we should agree to go through with this, and I can see where he would think it'd be a good thing, I do. My dad might be old, but he isn't completely senile—yet." When he failed to laugh at her attempt at humor at Godo's expense, she hastily went on, "Well, anyway, while some things make sense, the main point is that it wouldn't work out. It just won't. And I believe that both of us already know that."
Rufus said nothing in return as he instead took a sudden interest in imbibing in the glass of water he'd barely touched. He glanced down at the glass that he held poised between those long fingers before meeting her gaze. "You've made your argument, but you haven't provided a sufficient reason in why we shouldn't go through with something that you pointedly refuse to address by its name. How can I agree to anything you say when you won't even acknowledge what it is that you want to abstain from? This is not a land contract or job interview, Miss Kisaragi. What we're discussing is a little more than that."
Yuffie grimaced, the truth in his words striking her hard. "Don't you think that I don't know that?" she snapped. "We're talking about my life here. My life! Of course I understand the importance of this. I wouldn't have even bothered in coming here with you if I didn't."
The waiter appeared then, with a tray holding two plates of food that Yuffie had no wish to see. Neither spoke until the man departed, leaving them to discuss what would determine the course of both their lives. Rufus unfurled his napkin, his hands strategically placing his cutlery in their designated places. His dedication, combined with his cool precision thereof, disconcerted Yuffie, who so often had her own fork and spoon lying about anywhere convenient when she wasn't using chopsticks. Even their table manners illustrated just how unlike they behaved, and thus, by virtue of their diverse upbringings, how incompatible they really were.
Ignoring her plate, she watched him, and saw to her own disbelief how he himself refrained from eating. Catching his eye, she compelled herself to rekindle their conversation. "You wanted some reasons why we can't…marry," she began, nearly choking on the last word. "Well, I have a few."
"And I should be happy to hear them," he encouraged her, surprisingly for the first time. "Whether you would have yourself to believe it or not, I am willing to compromise. That's why we're here, Miss Kisaragi. I don't intend to force your hand into anything, so you may speak freely. I would have you be open and honest with me from the outset, especially since we've already agreed not to have any secrets between us."
Yuffie stared at him, a strange look of puzzlement clouding her dark eyes. "If that's the case, then why? Why go through with something like this? I can't see why you'd be so interested, considering how Wutai really has nothing of value anymore. Your father made sure of that," she pointed out as she watched him take a bite of a dark brown blob that was probably once a snail. Poor thing, she quietly thought, but kept her eyes locked with the one who devoured it.
Rufus set down his fork. "I understand your anger, as you have every right to be distrustful of my family. In retrospect, I acknowledge that my family has wronged, not only your country, but has also done a terrible disservice to your family name. I understand your hatred of me, Miss Kisaragi, and I am regrettably sorry for the injury that's been caused. I am by no means excusing my father's actions, let alone my own. However, I can afford an accord between my family and yours. And if this is how I can undue all the damage that's been done, then I—"
"You don't have to say you're sorry by marrying me," she broke in suddenly. "You really don't, you know. I mean, surely you don't go about offering marriage proposals to every available girl your family's done dirty. That's quite a few engagement rings to go about buying, don't you think?"
He obviously failed to find any humor in her comment, for the gravity in his expression did not waver. "It's a little more than that, Miss Kisaragi," he returned in a way that Yuffie secretly dreaded. Retrieving his fork, he commenced to eating once again. "I also believe you're aware of how an arrangement like this could possibly benefit the both of us," he furthered, spearing the remainder of a snail before delicately plopping it into his mouth. "Think about it." Squish. "With our families united, we could change the world so much together." Squish. "For the better." Squish.
Yuffie watched him eat in silence, and it took everything within her not to puke in front of him. The snails were repulsive enough, but his suggestion in alliancing herself—as he shockingly ate while he talked—with him in any cause, good or no, only furthered her revulsion, to the point of bolting from her chair and leaving him without an answer. Instead of running, however, she held her ground. She had the Kisaragi family's pride to uphold, after all. "Still wanting to rule the world, eh, ShinRa? I'm not surprised," she scoffed, purposely baiting him. "Once a ShinRa, always a ShinRa."
She earned a hard smile from him. "Your father said that you would be difficult to convince," he mused, losing all interest in his plate as he set his fork aside. "As it stands, I'm not one to back out of an agreement made between someone as respectable as your father and myself so easily. You will have to do better than to throw a few childish discourtesies my way to convince me otherwise, Miss Kisaragi." I'm still waiting for your reason, his eyes said.
And Yuffie, both offended and angered by his rebuttal, gave it to him. "Well, first, there's the age difference. I'm twenty-one, and it's a fine age to marry and everything, but, you're now, what, somewhere in your mid-thirties, right? I can't marry someone who's close to pushing forty."
"Thirty," he corrected. "I'm thirty years old, Miss Kisaragi."
But of course, such a numerical fact didn't faze Yuffie. "See? My point exactly," she concurred, although the man she liked was considerably older than the man in front of her, but that was beside the point. "So the age factor is one thing working against us, especially since I'd still like someone to live in the same decade as me."
"We're only nine years apart in age," he returned, clearly at a loss in her logic. "Technically, we are living our lives in the same decade, as you so aptly put it. I can't see how that can be a problem, considering how my own father was a decade older than my mother."
He had a point there, although Yuffie was loath to admit it. So far, he was ahead of her, leading by a single point. She couldn't allow him to score another. Schooling her flustered expression into that of a perfect smile, she charged ahead, listing off every problem she could think of, as to why their marriage would never work. "There's also the thing about my country. When I take my dad's place, I'll be expected to stay in Wutai, pretty much all the time. I can't see you managing your company from a remote island, steeped heavily in traditions from the past, not when your main base of operations is here."
Rufus listened to her explanation, as though in careful consideration. "I'm sure that such would be difficult for some; however, for myself, the transition to Wutai will not be a problem." He gave her a reassuring look that troubled her. "I've managed well enough, when my father had me head the company from Junon. I imagine Wutai will not be any different."
Yuffie frowned at his words. "Yes, but Junon is an industrial fishing town. Wutai is nothing like that at all. Unless…" She paused, almost paling considerably as a dark realization suddenly dawned on her. "You intend to turn Wutai into your next project. You plan to industrialize it, don't you? That's why you're so hell-bent in agreeing to this ridiculous marriage proposal. You want Wutai, so that it can be some kind of a springboard for your return to power. That's it, isn't it? And don't you dare lie, because I'll know damn well if you try to!"
He waited patiently for her tirade to end before answering. "I'll not deny that part of what you said is true; I have a few ideas in developing your country into something more than it presently is, Miss Kisaragi. Wait," he said, raising his hand to silence yet another outburst from her. "I want you to hear me out on this, before you say anything. Now, while I do plan to build onto your country's trade, what you must also take into consideration are all of the jobs it will provide those without any. I've looked into Wutai's economy, and I've seen how much it's suffered since the war. You've already made it clear to your father that you're tired of your home being nothing more than a tourist trap. You're tired of the poverty that has stricken those whom you know and care for. You're tired of the shame in the loss of your country's pride that's befallen on your people." He paused momentarily, allowing her to grasp what he was suggesting. "We can change all of that," he went on, an air of confidence in his voice, and thus revealing the efficient leader he so inherently was. "If you and I, united as one, managed to accomplish this, think of what your country will become."
"You said "Will" and not "Can,"" Yuffie pointed out. "You have that much faith in a people who would rather spit on the ShinRa name than say it out loud?" She shook her head in genuine astonishment. "You can't build Mako plants there; the WRO won't allow it. I won't allow it."
Rufus shook his head at this. "There are other methods in creating energy," he assured her. "I've no intention in ever building another Mako plant. Ever. ShinRa will never again create energy at the Planet's expense."
"You said there were other methods," she reminded him. "What kind of methods?"
At this, Rufus willingly joined in on the conversation, providing a detailed account of how they could use everything from fossil fuels to renewable resources in powering the world. "We don't necessarily have to use any part of the Lifestream at all. Actually, I've had a few who work in the science field to look into making an alternative fuel from certain crops. If we could harness energy that way, then we could live comfortably and make for a better world without the use of Mako energy."
She stilled at his words, his passionate speech almost swaying her. "And you want ShinRa to lead the way in this world powered by new energy," she prompted, testing him.
"I would be lying if I said that I wanted my company to take a back seat and allow another company to do that which I've suggested," he answered, carefully circumventing around her little trap. "But my company isn't the same as it once was. I head it now, with a clear mind and conscience. I haven't forgotten the wrongs done in the past, but I choose to forget the man I would've become if this"—He pressed two of his fingers near the scar surrounding his left eye—"hadn't happened to me. The Planet gave me a second chance, Miss Kisaragi, and I intend to make good use of it, by doing all I can in becoming something other than the monster that would've happily controlled the world through fear."
Although her eyes never left his, the Princess of Wutai remained silent for a long, pensive moment. Whether his words were sincere or not, she had yet to determine, although there was one thing that stood out from his moving declaration of penance and second chances. "And what of Wutai?" she asked. "Do you plan to rule it, too?"
To her surprise, he shook his head. "No, I don't. I'll leave the leadership of your country to you, as I shall only remain as your standing consort." When she didn't call him out on a lie, he furthered his case, "As your husband, I shall also give you all the funds you need to restore Wutai to the way it was. You'll have no limit as to how much you'll need, as I shall also give you a monthly allowance of half a million gil to do with as you please, as well as a salary and a significant stake in my company on top of that. You can buy all the Materia you need, if you want."
Yuffie hesitated in her rejection, as everything that this proposal entailed sounded better and better—on her end, at least. "But what about you, though? What's in it for you if I agree?" she could not help but ask. "You've already made your point in building up the economy, and what I'm assuming to be some kind of an expansion on foreign trade, but what else? There's something more than that. Something you're not telling me."
She had him there.
But, ever the shrewd businessman, he turned the conversation to his advantage, navigating through the tepid waters of her present uncertainty with a calm assurance instilled through years of self-imposed conditioning. "There are only three conditions that I ask of you in return," he said evenly, calmly, and proceeded when she quietly gestured for him to continue. "First and foremost, as my wife, I will expect you to stay faithfully by my side and support me as your husband and also to what we'll represent to ShinRa. I don't take well to betrayal, Miss Kisaragi, not even from one whom I consider family." He refrained from mentioning his own betrayal, in attempting to usurp his bastard of a father, but the man had known well enough of his plan, and never really did anything about it. Having a wife, and a royal one at that, however, was a different matter entirely. It was upon this consideration that he continued. "Secondly, I must ask that you show affection towards me, if only in front of the rest of the world, as well as to anyone outside the privacy of our home and office."
His second condition rendered Yuffie utterly speechless. Did he just imply what she heard him imply? Eyes wide, she pondered the outcome of such a farce. "So, we would always be honest with each other, buy lie to the rest of the world?" she questioned, yet only received a rueful smile in return. She then asked what she feared most, but she had to know his stance on the subject regardless. "What about love?"
"Love?" he echoed, as if attempting to discern the very essence behind its meaning. "My dear Miss Kisaragi, I'm afraid that men in my position cannot afford such a luxury. I have a very narrow view regarding anything pertaining to the emotion myself, although I can understand why other people might readily embrace its concept. I will not lie to you about this: I have no feeling whatsoever in that regard toward you, and I believe that you are already well aware of that. But I would be good to you. And who knows? I've even heard that, within some arranged marriages, a deeper sentiment beyond respect can possibly arise, provided that both spouses are amiable toward one another."
"I understand," she replied, although his answer left her cold. "But you must also know that I don't want to take a chance on that, either. Funny thing is, I believe in love and also being loved for myself. I can't simply settle for something less than that. Surely you understand my need for something more."
The calm look he gave her almost seemed to pity her plight. "I'm a businessman, Miss Kisaragi. I take risks, some of which are necessary to ensure the survival of my company. So, yes, I do understand. And I am only sorry that I cannot offer you any more than what I already have."
He received a strange sort of half-smile from her. "That's the second time you've apologized to me in less than an hour," she remarked, a hint of irony lingering in her voice, which, to her surprise, seemed to unsettle him. She almost smiled in full. Her present heartache was almost worth that rare sight in seeing the all high and mighty President Rufus ShinRa looking something almost akin to regrettable. "And what's the third condition?" she asked, though secretly fearing the answer.
"Children."
Yuffie paled considerably at that single word. "Ch-children?" she reiterated numbly, and he nodded.
"I need an heir to head the company when I pass on, just as you will have need of one to take the throne when the time comes." He leaned forward then, his eyes still holding hers. "I don't expect them right after we marry, but in a few years…" His pause emphasized his meaning. "I want at least two, and I want them to be mine and yours and no other's."
"I see," she responded quietly, barely above a whisper. Breaking away from his gaze, she looked down at her plate and picked at her cold fish with her fork. She almost wished the meal was poisoned, since a part of her felt that it would be a merciful death if she consumed it instead of living a shaded half-life as Rufus ShinRa's bride. The mother of his children. Gawd. For when she said that she saw his point, she meant it, as his words stressed his desire that she remain faithful to him, his children's paternity unquestionable. There would be no room for another in her heart, and she felt it crack underneath the pressure of that unalterable fact. She breathed out in a stilted, jagged breath before summoning the courage to look at him. "I know that everything you're offering will be to the benefit of Wutai and my people, and that, in itself, should make me want to agree. But I can't do this. I just can't. I'm sorry."
She stood then; ready to leave before he drew her back into his deceitful, suffocating net. She reached for her purse but felt one of his hands grasp the lower half of her left arm, a possessive gesture, yet surprisingly gentle as it had been before. The feel of its tenderness both surprised and terrified her.
"Is there someone else?" he asked before she could react by pulling away. "Well, is there?" he pressed, surprisingly with no condemnation in his voice, only genuine curiosity.
The question caught Yuffie completely off guard. "What?"
"Is there someone else?" he repeated, those cold blue eyes bearing into hers. "Is there another man? Someone whom you love? Is that why you're rejecting my offer?" Rejecting me?
His silent question almost made her head spin. Unable to bear the gravity in his stare, she turned away. "I don't want to talk about this."
"But you must," he insisted. His grip on her arm did not lesson, only intensified until she gave in and returned to her seat. "You don't have to tell me his name, but does he return your affections?" he asked when she refused to answer him. He waited another moment, her silence confirming his suspicions. "I see."
Yuffie shook her head. "What does it matter if he does or doesn't?" she returned bitterly. "I never asked for any of this; and yet here I am, stuck in bargaining my future with you. I don't think you see anything at all, otherwise you'd understand why I can't go through with any of this. I never asked for this twisted little marriage arrangement that you and my dad made behind my back. I never asked to be responsible for a nation of people, who are dependent on every decision I make when my dad dies. I don't think you understand at all." A traitorous tear escaped from her eye, and yet it never fell as a hand, both soft and firm in its tender-taken touch, brushed it away in a single, delicate stroke. Yuffie's eyes shifted, locking with the President of ShinRa's. "Please," she whispered, secretly despising herself for resorting to outright pleading with him. But it was the only card she had left to play, as she implored that impassive heart of stone which beat in that perfectly sculpted, marble chest. "Please, just call it off."
And yet, the man who held the key to both her liberation and happiness shook his head, much to her regret. "I'm aware of Wutainese law, especially pertaining to that of the royal family, and I know what's required to fulfill that prerequisite. You require a husband, Miss Kisaragi, just as the repercussions should you not marry will be most dire, not only for your family, but for your people if you don't marry in the time before your father passes on from this life. It's an unfortunate stipulation, and I am sorry that it can't be changed, but the fact of its existence remains." The pressure he placed on the arm that he grasped lessened in its intensity as his hand slid down to cover hers in a tangible show of understanding. He watched her expression contort into one of sadness, and then into one of resignation. "I understand your situation, Miss Kisaragi, I really do. I took over the company upon my father's death; and although our circumstances are, assuredly, very different in that respect, since I assume that you actually love your father, while I could never say the same of mine, I understand the burden you bear all the same."
"It just isn't fair." Yuffie's lip trembled as she breathed out her next words, "I hate that stupid law. You'd think that, with everything's that happened, that Wutai's marriage law would've changed, too. I'm not much one for any of the traditions back home, but I didn't think that Dad would actually force me to go through with it. I thought that…" She trailed off, her face absolutely miserable. "I hate being cornered like this."
And out of an uncharacteristic show of kindness, Rufus took her hand more firmly into his own, ignoring the slight tremble he felt underneath his, and yet his eyes never left hers. "I know that you don't want any part of this arranged marriage, but I can promise you this: I will not leave your side. We'll stand together, and I will do everything within my power to never make you regret marrying me."
Her face faltered at his declaration. "But you don't love me!" she cried out, weak in her protest. "How can you even want to go through with this, since you have to know that marriage in Wutai is a lifetime deal? There's no such thing as divorce, especially in the royal family. It's simply unheard of."
"Who said that I'd ask for a divorce?" he asked, as if surprised by the suggestion. "Miss Kisaragi, I'm not under any illusion in marrying strictly for love. I know exactly what this union will mean for the both of us, but there is more that comes with a marriage than simply being in love." When she remained silent, he continued. "At least consider this: there is no other man who rivals my wealth and status in this world. There is no other, who would even consider such an alliance with Wutai. I'm the only one who has both the capital and funds to restore that which my family destroyed, and I can, Miss Kisaragi, I can return your home, maybe not completely back to the way it was before, but I can make it better. We can make it better. Together." His hand grasped hers in silent reassurance. "We can do this."
"We can," she ventured to say. And yet, my love, my very heart, will be what's sacrificed.
But for a restored Wutai, to see it rise from the ashes of death and war and to console the many impoverished faces that now pleaded to her for relief from their burden…she was willing to go through with it. Her duty toward the welfare of her people, as her father's words presently thundered in her mind, always came above her own. She only regretted that her heart didn't feel the same, since it was her head and not her heart that compelled her to make the call, in surrendering herself to this corporate monster that presently held her hand in false comfort as she tore the love that she secretly felt away from the very moorings of her heart and commended the rest of her shattered, broken self to him. As Rufus ShinRa, Yuffie quietly reasoned, might come to claim her body and all that made her a princess of Wutai, but he would never claim her heart. Of that, she would be certain.
It was upon this revelation that Yuffie, although left both despondent and heartbroken, surrendered—wholeheartedly—to the man she'd sworn a week ago that she'd never consent in marrying.
"Then I accept, but I want everything notarized and made legal the moment I'm your wife. I want you to keep every promise you've made to me tonight, and I'll keep my end of the bargain." Children included.
And Rufus smiled—a smile that reminded Yuffie decidedly of the Lost Number that she and the others had encountered in the ShinRa Mansion before finding Vincent in its subterranean cellars—as the gesture, though well-meaning in its appearance, chilled her to her very core.
She barely heard him speak to the waiter who passed by their table when he asked for the check. Nor did she feel the cold, calculative kiss that he placed on her the back of her hand—a perfunctory gesture, perfectly within his rights as her newly established fiancé—as the words, What have I done? echoed painfully in her mind. She barely noticed anything else, only vaguely registering the dismally silent drive back to her apartment, and the long walk they made to her door as Rufus escorted back personally. She said nothing in the line of any faux affection; he wouldn't have expected it from her, as she instead mumbled "Goodnight" to him before closing the door and locking it behind her.
Forcing herself to block out the image of his stony expression, which would undoubtedly be forever imprinted in her memory, she retreated to her room as thoughts of loss and what might have been plagued her. She shook her head, quietly dismissing the pain. No, the only viable thing that she could think of as she stripped out of her blouse and skirt as she threw on a shirt and a pair of shorts was the fact that she was now Rufus ShinRa's fiancée. She'd made a deal with a devil who wore only white, and had possibly lost her soul in the process. It was a shattering reality, that brought her on the edge of despair as she tried to find a sense of comfort in her cold bed and thought of the life she wanted—a life she could've had, if only in her fantasies—and of the one person she yearned to see again, yet could never have after this night.
A tear fell in the name of her loss. And she cursed it, as she cursed herself and her ill-begotten luck in being a princess with a life filled with only obligation and regret. She cursed her title, cursed the laws forcing her into this ridiculous sham of a marriage, yet cursing the bad hand that fate had dealt her most of all. The unfairness of her situation failed to convey the extent of what she felt; for one thing was certain: half a year from now, she would find herself trapped in a loveless marriage with Rufus ShinRa, a man she almost wished hadn't come out of the ShinRa tower alive…A man she almost wished that she hadn't saved.
She cried until she fell asleep, her pillow soaked though by the sorrow of her tears.
…
Author's Note: Poor Yuffie…She really has no idea what she's herself getting into. She really doesn't. Still, though, it is rather fun playing this little game of cat and mouse between her and Rufus. There will be many more games that are played before this story is done.
But, yes, I'm really not going to say a lot about this chapter, in case I accidently give something away. Really, I just wanted to make a note on the second to last sentence, because it might be a little confusing. It's really an allusion to Dirge of Cerberus' opening FMV, where Yuffie is helping out in evacuating civilians out of Midgar during Meteor. We actually, briefly, see an injured Rufus carried out on a stretcher in the background, so, in effect, you could say that Yuffie inadvertently saved Rufus ShinRa's life that night. I imagine that she'd realize who he was, by his trademark white trench coat and everything. I really wanted to tie that meeting between them in with this chapter, because, really, if Rufus hadn't lived…well…Advent Children might've ended very differently, but that's a whole other kettle of fish right there…
And I also forgot to mention this in the last chapter, but Rufus does purposely change from calling Yuffie Lady Kisaragi to Miss Kisaragi. It's as close as he'll come to calling her Yuffie. Well…until she finally gives in and calls him Rufus. I doubt either of them will back down from that challenge, though! XD
Oh, and Morgane Lurker, since I couldn't PM you, I wanted to thank you here. I'm very delighted that you've enjoyed this story so far, and that you like the way I've written Yuffie! :D Honestly, I'm so afraid in writing her out-of-character. In a way, she's harder to write, compared to Rufus, whose motives we really still have yet find out. He has secrets. Lots of secrets, I suspect. (Grins.) Thanks again for your wonderful review!
And thanks also, to everyone else, for taking an interest in this story. It really means a lot to me, as everyone inspires me to continue writing this story. You guys are amazing!
Until next time!
— Kittie
