Disclaimer: To Be Human is a fanfiction written in the Compilation of FFVII, with respect to the original canon and in accordance with the permissions of Fair Use as a transformative work. No profit is being made and the author only claims original characters used within to help flesh out the story.
A/N: A surprise reveal to some, and confirmation to others - and another unnamed person who might still be familiar. It's a little side-glimpse, but don't blink and miss it.
Reeve Tuesti was many things, and often considered himself lucky - at least when it most counted. Overall, he had a strange relationship with luck, but things tended to end well for him.
Which made the whole situation he'd stumbled upon all the more intriguing. Turks, SOLDIERs and executives, my oh my indeed. And from what he'd gathered, there was a lot more to be seen and heard. The return of one Angeal Hewley, SOLDIER First Class, appeared to be a bit of an unexpected game changer. And there was certainly going to be a meeting about that - he might even get to hear about it in person, depending on when it was brought up. It was almost a given Heidegger would demand that it was addressed, though likely less for concern for Hewley and more because he was still gunning for Deusericus' position.
Hollander was back, too, which meant some sort of reckoning might be had with the Science Department. That was three tangled up in this, then - the SOLDIER Department of SOLDIER, the Science Department, and the Department of Administrative Research's infamous Turk subsection... there was no way this wouldn't have a long reach of effects. The question, of course, was where he wanted to stand himself. There was a chance it wouldn't touch him at all - no one was terribly interested in him or what he was up to, so long as he kept the reactors running. The odds that it would even occur to any of them to ask his opinion were low leaning to none. No one even didn't listen to him trying to do his job or even his efforts to help the people.
Reeve was actually rather sick of that.
It wasn't that he fancied himself some kind of hero, not at all, but there was so much good that could be done with even just a little more support. It would barely dent the budget of most other departments - the Science Department wouldn't even feel it! But no one listened, because no one seemed terribly concerned. And that wasn't likely to change.
Unless, of course, something suddenly made him valuable to others…
The young executive leaned back in his chair and replayed the feed from his secondary recording device that had gone online when the other self destructed. There was undeniable interest there, in what he'd made. In what he could do. They saw a potential threat, but to be a threat you had to be visible, to measure - and for the first time since he'd proven himself able to one up all the old reactors, his designs were being really looked at seriously. Like they were impressive, like his skill had worth.
Years of being brushed off as the young genius who really had no worthwhile experience beyond maintaining the reactors and thus denied the voice he should have had as a member of the board… years being overlooked, considered unimportant unless they needed something from him… years underfunded and undermined, dismissed and ignored… it made even that one moment of unknowing recognition send his heart racing. If they knew who he was, would he be brushed off again, or would they still consider him valuable? Would he finally be acknowledged for who he was, and taken seriously for what he was capable of? Just the thought….
Reeve slipped his hand into his pocket, playing with the pair of dice he kept there. It was so very, very tempting. He needed to give it more thought, weigh possibilities and consequences, and the very real disadvantage of the Turks discovering him as opposed to him coming to them first. Veld was a reasonable man, and never hasty. He seemed the sort to assess things before making a decision. If Reeve could make a good enough case….
Decisions decisions. He had a lot of thinking to do.
The company news wasn't particularly exciting, really. Not what made it onto paper at least. It was all the little things that didn't get written down that caught the attention of the truly canny.
Hollander's sudden reappearance and Hojo not having publicly reamed him for it, for example. Or the return of the First Class not so long after being declared killed in action. Wishful thinking, perhaps? That's what they got for sending his friend to do it. Then again, there were more than rumors that indicated a good chance the mighty Sephiroth had been the one to pull that little trick out. And wouldn't that just burn the president?
The thought of Sephiroth becoming something less than the obedient toy general the board thought they controlled like a shiny puppet was brilliant. Not something he would allow, no, but still. It was a brilliant turn of events and he planned to savor every moment. Had anyone asked, he could have told them it was the height of stupidity, using the man like they did. If nothing else, for heavens sake, keep his little friends around for leverage! If they let Hewley slip through their fingers, well, they'd earned the inevitable backlash in full.
It would certainly be something to see, and what a genuine pleasure to be back from Junon in time for it. Not that he was certain he wouldn't end up going right back, of course, but he could bide his time. President Shinra was an old fool, past his prime and well beyond anything resembling days of glory. He was corrupt and the company was stagnating under his ham-fisted rule. What they needed was someone young, full of vision as he'd once been; someone who didn't try to make all his problems go away by throwing money at them or outright killing people.
Someone like him.
Smiling faintly, he flicked a hand back through his hair and shook his head. His day would come, and soon. All the sooner if they didn't handle the situation with the SOLDIERs much more carefully, but even if they did… well, he had it on good authority that AVALANCHE was still a formidable threat ready to topple the current company heads.
Whatever the cause of it, a change was coming, and power would be changing hands to whoever had the strength and cunning to grab it.
Namely, himself.