Colors of My Life
~~~Silver Lining~~~
He wasn't quite sure what he was looking at. The garishly-lit, rain-misted city of eternal night... The drops running down the glass... The reflection of his own face superimposed over it all.
I claim you, Midgar. You are mine.
He lifted one hand and traced the reflection of his eyes. They still looked odd... He wasn't used to seeing them glow.
He pressed his palm to the glass, glaring at the childish size of it. At fourteen, he was the size of an average eleven-year-old.
"Rufus."
The glowing blue orbs shifted from his hand to the reflection of the young man who had come up behind him, as silent as alway. Green-tinted blue eyes glowed as brightly as Rufus's own now did, peering out from beneath the shoulder-length, shaggy-layered silver hair.
"Hello, Sephiroth." Rufus had already taken to using a rather aloof tone to make himself seem older than his underdeveloped body suggested to those who were older than he was.
"What are you thinking about?" The sixteen-year-old put his hand on the smaller boy's shoulder.
Rufus relaxed a bit, both in body and in tone. "This is my city..."
"Yes?"
"I will have this city in the palm of my hand, and I will crush my father!"
"Lower your voice, Rufus. Your father does not consider you indispensible."
Rufus shrugged the other's hand off. "How would you know!?"
"I heard him talking to Hojo before your operation." Sephiroth brushed his hand under one of Rufus's eyes, and the boy sighed.
"What's it like, Sephiroth?"
"What is what like?"
"What is it like to get special treatment because you are an Ancient?"
"What is it like to get special treatment because you are the vice-president?"
Rufus sighed again. "Oh. I wish I was just treated like a normal child."
"I wish I were as well. But, at least we have each other. We are very much alike."
"But for how long will we have each other? I heard that Hojo and Heideggar have planned to put you full-time with SOLDIER soon..."
"...And there is no telling what your father may have planned for you."
"I know." Rufus turned and grabbed both of Sephiroth's hands. "Let us make a promise, that we will always be friends, and never forget each other, no matter what."
Sephiroth turned his hands so that his fingers and the other boy's locked together. "It sounds like an excellent idea."
~
Rufus pressed his hands over the ears of the headset in an effor to further muffle the sounds of the helicopter blades. He was slumped in his seat, staring listlessly straight ahead.
"Last chance to see the ShinRa building, sir," the pilot's voice said in his ears.
With a sigh, Rufus straightened in his seat and looked out the window, then down at the helipad.
His father had gone back inside already--typical...--and another figure had taken his place. Rufus couldn't make out the man's face from that distance, but the waistlength silver hair, glittering in the spotlights that illuminated the helipad, was a dead giveaway.
The boy felt a pang of regret as Sephiroth lifted one bare arm in an almost-wave. The man had, as usual, neglected to wear a shirt under the trenchcoat that was now lying at his feet, and Rufus was able to see the movement of muscles in the twenty-year-old's naked chest.
Rufus slumped in his seat again, deciding not to torture himself further.
"Something wrong?" Tseng asked, his voice clear in the headset, his expression showing concern.
Rufus shook his head. Although there was something wrong, he wasn't going to tell Tseng. It would do no good. Sephiroth's high-ranked position in SOLDIER meant that he needed to be stationed at headquarters. As much as the vice-president would have loved the arrangement, a transfer to Junon was impossible.
The future stretched before the eighteen-year-old as a bleak, featureless gray plane. He could see no silver linings to this cloud--the silver lining was behind him.
A/N: Ah, full of hidden meanings... Open to
interpretation, although I did put it down as a solid story, with one true "what's
going on" in mind. There is a sort of signifigance to the ages, and if you look ahead
to the game, and correlate this one with the last one, there're a few more of my theories
visible. ^-^ I like to make my readers think. And I LOVE to get feedback! Thanks to
everyone who reviewed part one. Please feel free to make suggestions for part three. Poor
Rufie needs colors other than gray in his life. ~ Anberu "Musashi" Roquet