Chapter Three: Fools, Rules, Guards and Ghouls

The guard Cloud had knocked against the wall was the very same assigned to take him to be garbed as Rufus and would be 'privileged' enough to accompany him to the hearing. The stony silence in the winding hallways of the palace was deafening to her- for it was a her.

She was staring over at the silent and brooding figure ahead of her with a gaze that could have seared through steel; 'I know you...' she thought as she looked at the back of his spiky blonde head, 'how?'

Cloud's face had looked as though it were carved of stone earlier when she could see it earlier, she concluded without ever opening her mouth for experimentation that there was utterly no point in trying to talk to him about it. Even if he did recognize her- which, being fair, he wouldn't get the chance to do since she wasn't about to unmask herself- he didn't seem in any sort of humour to share that kind of information. Or any information, for that matter, or pleasantries… or anything.

"You know," a low, irritated voice interrupted her train of thought, making her jump in surprise- which she resented, "It makes it even more rude to stare when I can't stare back." Cloud glanced at her over her shoulder, brilliant blue eyes sharp and cool, not quite accusing, but certainly suspicious.

She was baffled at how he could have possibly seen her looking in the first place, she didn't remember being this tactless on her normal assignments; "Uh... I... Sorry." She muttered lamely, biting her cheek angrily for making herself look like such an idiot in front of someone who'd already bested her physically.

Cloud actually looked at her this time, admitting to himself that he was a little amused by her apology at the same time wondering what the heck such a naïve incompetent girl was doing on the Royal Guard. "Yeah... well, I don't care how weird-looking I am, so don't bother to do it again."

"You're not weird-looking." The Guard blurted out, then seeming to stew for a long moment in indignation at her mouth for betraying her in such a ridiculous fashion.

A thin blonde eyebrow formed a perfect arch over a cold blue eye. Cloud was oh-so very tempted to just break out into laughter… but that would probably ruin further entertainment at her expense.

"I mean..." she was glad he couldn't see her face- although she had a sneaking suspicion it didn't matter that he couldn't- as she cursed internally, inventing new phrases that would have made a soldier blush. She finally decided she may as well try her luck with honesty- it didn't look like she could make his impression of her much worse, "I thought I recognized you from somewhere."

Cloud regarded her with the same cool disinterest, but behind the facade he was suddenly very much interested. "Yeah?" he commented blandly, "Where?"

"I don't know." The Guard suddenly remembered that she hadn't figured out anything beyond a gut feeling, and that really wasn't something she could negotiate with. She sighed as she let go of her chance to solve the now nagging question, "It was just some stupid thing- don't worry about it."

"I wasn't," Cloud returned to staring at the hallway ahead, "I just wanted to know where a Shinra bodyguard has seen me before, travel the slums much?"

"You'd be surprised how much we see."

"I doubt it, not a lot surprises me."

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Yuffie grinned, glancing over her shoulder along the tall thick walls of Wuitai, which boasted guard houses inside the wall itself, the guard currently on duty still hadn't noticed her- she had made certain of that. Her father's incredibly lax security had always been an endless source of amusement for her; that combined with ninja training and having 'escaped' thousands of times to run through the surrounding farmland as a child, she barely noticed slipping past the guardians anymore.

Of course, she'd never seriously considered leaving before, she had always come back before her father the Emperor sent out the army to look for her- a few days was the most time she'd ever spent away, and that was in sight of the great wall surrounding the city. Now as she drew closer again to freedom from lessons and council meetings, no one seeing her or stopping her despite a pack far larger than she'd ever carried before- the idea was getting more and more attractive. If she was gone a few months they all might learn a little lesson themselves; in Yuffie appreciation.

Heh. That was a silly reason to run away, but getting away from dresses that took three hours to put on and longer to take off, ceremonies that were practically subscription sleeping aids and everything else that was hideously boring about court…. Getting all the time in the world to do what she wanted to do-

You'd think being the Empress, or the future Empress or whatever, I'd get my way here, but noooo. Yuffie sighed, mentally grumbling. She was tried of grumbling. She looked back at her father's five level mansion and the gates and the guards one last time before taking her time-tested path out and into the fields and meadows outside where the common farmers lived; she bolted across the open ground as soon as she was clear of the guard's line of sight. Yuffie knew she should probably have gone back and worked out a plan for this… 'expedition' but she worried if she didn't seize the moment she'd rethink it.

She was tired of the nagging sense of judgment that Red had slowly been building in her, and she wasn't going to give it a chance to spoil her fun this time. She was sixteen years old and she wanted to get a little dirty before they put her up on her pedestal in the palace and she wasn't allowed to so much as breathe wrong. The first thing she did when she made camp at the edge of Wuitai lands to the east, on the coast of the Sea of Ice (Keleb'k'Mere in the Old Tongue, as Red had painstakingly driven into her head) was to take out the dagger hidden in her boot for protection.

She glanced at it in the firelight, thinking again about all the rigid living at home and then made her decision, raising the blade to lop about two feet off her beautiful ebony hair. She grinned at her proof of her defiance and tucked the braided lock into her leather pouch, hoping to find some use for it some day…

The gates of Midgar, Shinra's metropolis, the Royal City- practically the only city still under rule of the monarchy, the rest of the lands and small towns mostly ignored by the government, were even easier than Wuitai had been. She couldn't believe it was so effortless to barter passage on a merchant ship and leave her continent for the east and then pass straight into a city that was practically its own country. Yuffie's eyes stayed up as she entered a smaller slums-gate, staring up in wonder at the huge metal plate that blocked out the sky.

She'd never seen anything like it, she couldn't believe there were people who lived their whole lives in the shadow of that ugly, twisted thing; what did the Shinra do to keep control? Surely the slum-dwellers couldn't be happy with the way things were…? Yuffie was beginning to understand Red's comments about Midgar- it would be better under the Empire, but it was so far away… How could she possibly hope to win a war against a city that was bigger than her entire nation?

"Hey kid!"

Yuffie's head snapped around,

"Why doncha write 'new in town' on yer chest- or is that not obvious enough fer ya?" the same voice continued, sounding rather amused with itself. It sounded something else too…

Uh oh… Yuffie turned, ready to fight, almost certain this person somehow knew who she was- she wouldn't be surprised if her face was all over Midgar news, probably followed by slander and lies. She reached behind her back to draw her weapon, but there was a sudden intense pain in the back of her head and the world started to fade.

Can't friggin' hear… stupid city… She thought, irritated, as she lost consciousness.

When she woke she was surrounded by unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar place- a dirty, dark and threatening unfamiliar place, and the people were worse. She groaned as she looked up at her captors, rubbing her head as one of them grinned at her,

"Welcome to AVALANCHE, princess."

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Cloud rolled his shoulders and threw a few punches in the air, testing the movement of the stiff white suit he had to wear to make his impersonation of the crown prince the slightest bit convincing.

"Stupid sleeves..." he complained aloud. He would never understand the sacrifice of either fighting ability or comfort to aesthetics.

"They're not so bad." Rufus straightened from his post leaning on the doorframe and took a few steps into the bland cell of a room. Cloud rolled his eyes as he tossed his elbow back and frowned at the limited range he had to jab someone behind him.

"It's illogical to endanger your life for the sake of appearances." He muttered, echoing his earlier sentiments.

Rufus shrugged, "I have more than enough body guards- and I am important enough not to worry about it."

"Once," Cloud whispered, far more to himself than Rufus, "I thought something like that… but I've learned not to trust anything but myself." He pursed his lips in thought and silent reflection, opening and closing his fists absent-mindedly.

"Did you say-?" the young prince looked up at his brooding companion in wonderment.

"No." Cloud quipped, crossing the small room and staring at himself in the pristine mirror, making it more than clear that no attempts to extract an explanation from him would be successful. In the mean time, he reached up and started pulling at his hair, trying without much success to flatten it out of its natural spiky mess.

Rufus chuckled, "You don't have much experience with this, do you?"

Cloud grunted.

"I'll send someone more aesthetically inclined to... help you out." Rufus made for the door, still sniggering to himself.

"I'll manage." Came the almost incoherent response that sounded more like a lion than a man.

Rufus laughed out loud as he left and Cloud continued to grumble miserably to himself as he pulled the longest sections of his hair into a ponytail and dunked his head in the sink in an attempt to weigh down his spikes.

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They took me out today, I don't know why, the doctors never tell me what they're doing… probably because they don't consider me a person, no I'm just an experiment. I'm an oddity, I don't deserve common civility like privacy or being told what's to become of me.

They stripped me naked and shoved me into a tiny room where I was sprayed with chemical-smelling liquids and suds and finally water- at first I thought I was finally being terminated, finally meeting the end that would be my only release from the torture of my life. I don't know whether or not I'm relieved that I survive still- or whether it would have been better if they'd just killed me.

They took me to another room where five women in masks put me into a beautiful flowing gown of fine fabric and dressed my hair, patiently combing out what was probably years of tangles, they grabbed my face and covered me in make-up. I was so confused, so utterly defeated at what these new developments could possibly mean… What were they going to do with me? Make into some sort of high-priced…

Surely not… Oh, Planet save me, just kill me so I can join my parents… I don't care anymore, I just want to be with someone I love. I'm tired of being an object- can't anyone see beyond what I am? Why does it matter so much? Why won't they talk to me before I go mad!

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The chair he was sitting in was the least comfortable he'd ever had the misfortune to discover. The atmosphere wasn't particularly welcoming either. They were inside a huge warehouse of some kind, a podium had been erected on a make-shift stage at one end and a flustered woman in a business suit was trying desperately to call the enormous crowd filling the building to order.

"People of Midgar! Subjects of king Shinra! Friends! How can we answer your questions and stay your concerns if you will not let us speak!" The room slowly quieted, as the assembled rabble of slum-dwellers seemed to realize she was right.

"Yer factories poison what little air we got down here! How are ya gonna 'stay our concerns'?" A voice raised itself to the very rafters of the lofty chamber above the general din of people.

"You are deceived by rebel factions!" the woman cried exasperatedly, "Our factories do not pollute the air, we burn clean!"

"How can yer tell us ya dun pollute- yer not the one who's gotta breathe this crap every day!" a second voice spoke up, sounding just as righteous and angry as the first. " 'Sides, even if it weren't fer the smoke- this big ugly piece of turd factory dun't help us! It only helps the rich bastards upstairs!"

"No!" the speaker was beginning to lose her composure, "You aren't listening! If you had read our pamphlet you would know we are giving up all foreign workers and we are going to hire exclusively from the lower regions of Midgar!"

"They're slums, lady! No amount of pretty talk will change it, neither!" There was a chorus of agreement and then another individual voice.

"Hey!" a brown-haired head rose up above the crowd, "Ask his highness there why we live like pigs in the slime and he's sitting pretty in his spotless white in a palace under the sun!"

Cloud bristled as the rag-tag bunch continued to shout ugly things directed at him, or rather, at the persona he had assumed. There was utterly nothing he could do to prevent the spiraling downfall of the meeting and he found himself wondering why he was doing this in the first place. The black clad guard he'd talked to in the hall looked at him helplessly and the woman at the podium looked about to explode in rage.

"The prince Rufus is not here to be interrogated!" she practically shrieked into the small microphone, "The prince is here to show you that the crown is behind us and when I answer your questions I speak directly for the king!" she panted for breath and a creeping silence settled over the room.

Cloud let out a hissing breath between his teeth and leaned over to the guard, "That was too damn close." He whispered fiercely.

"What d'ya want me to do?" she muttered in response.

"Something, damn it! What are you here for if you're not going to bloody do anything?" Cloud crossed his arms in irritation at being forced to rely on someone else.

"I'm here to keep anyone from getting too close to you, that's what I'm here for. Uncross your arms." She added this last statement with a twinge of amusement.

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"The prince... the prince's arms don't have quite that much to them."

Cloud's arms dropped and he looked away quickly. The guard smiled to herself as the meeting went on and her charge seemed to grow increasingly edgy. Eventually she found herself bored almost stiff.

"Hey, Mr. Strife," she whispered.

"Yeah?" came the muffled grumble from behind Cloud's collar.

"Since we're here, may's well talk."

"So talk." Cloud shrugged as though he couldn't possibly care any less what she did. Which he couldn't.

"Well... for starts, I guess I should introduce myself." She received absolutely no response; "I'm Tifa Lockheart."

"Delighted to make you accq..." Cloud cut off his own sarcastic remark as the name he hadn't been paying attention to seeped into his head, "Did you say Tifa?"

"Yeah..." she nodded, looking at him as though he were growing a second head.

Cloud was silent and stared at the floor, brooding.

"Um..." Tifa's curiosity was peaked and with curiosity came courage, "Do you know somebody with my name- or..." she remembered the conversation from the hallway and wondered if she should take her mask off, just once, where no one else would see… Her curiosity was starting to get painful with the assurance that there was something there. They couldn't both be imagining things.

"I know someone." He stared at her very intensely for a fleeting moment and then his gaze turned to the floor.

"Wanna tell me about it?" she pushed, her inquisition getting the best of her.

"No." Cloud's flat voice left no room for protest.

"Why not?" Tifa asked reflectively, the ruby eyes behind her guard hood fixed on the blonde.

"I don't talk about myself- I don't talk to people I don't know and I don't know anybody." He went to cross his arms again but stopped himself and grunted in annoyance, letting his hands fell into his lap.

"Why not?" she repeated, trying not to notice his grip on his coat getting tighter and tighter.

"Because I don't. I don't know anyone because I don't want to know anyone. That includes you, Tif... Tifa." He stumbled over the name he hadn't spoken in so long....

"But why don't you want to?" she told herself this would be the last nudge... she didn't know how much more he would tolerate and had a suspicion that it would be the last regardless of her self control.

"Because I don't, now leave me alone." He stared straight ahead from the remainder of the hearing and refused to response to any amount of probing.

'Now I'm involved...' Tifa lamented to herself, 'and once I'm involved... well, I just have to get to the bottom of things.'

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After peeling off the white trench coat and the tight black turtle neck Cloud was about to sprawl out on the cot that made up one of his small room's two pieces of furniture- the other being a tiny table- when the door opened. Rufus. Splendid.

"Are you not curious about your real mission? I've decided to give it to you." The prince stepped into the dimly lit room and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Cloud. "Wounded?"

"Huh?" Cloud looked down at himself in confusion before remembering the ever-present bandage on his left arm and answering simply, "No."

"Why are you bandaged if you have no wound?" Rufus clasped his hands together at the small of his back, studying his latest employee and finding himself fascinated with the endless mystery that seemed to surround him. Why would a street rat be shrouded with so much intrigue?

"Reasons that don't concern you." Cloud was saying in his emotionless voice, the words almost noticeably chilled the air in the already frigid chamber.

The prince rested his gloved hand on the metal frame of the cot.

"Everything concerns me. I am your employer and future king, Strife, don't you forget it." Rufus' mouth was tight and his voice was filled with a small edge of threat.

"I don't care."

"I think you care about a lot more than you let on." Rufus pointed at Cloud in an almost accusing manner. The mystique was really beginning to irritate him.

"You think wrong." Cloud shrugged, "And if you decide to press me about what doesn't concern you then you won't be my employer any more. As for future king..." Cloud sneered, "I never noticed what your tyrant of a father did so why should you be different?"

"You're not in control." Rufus was seething.

"Aren't I?"

The two men stared at each other across the small space.

Finally, Rufus broke the silence, "Your insolence won't last more than an hour on a real assignment, and you'll be terrifically sorry if it does." The prince's almost offhand comment was far less than what Cloud had been expecting.

"Really. All I've been taught so far is that I can get away with it." Cloud crossed his arms. He felt as though he'd been doing that a lot as of late.

"I can remedy that." Rufus' fingers flexed against his leg, unspoken threats hanging heavily on the air.

"I dare you." Cloud challenged coldly.

"You highness!" both men whirled to face the door in surprise at the outburst, a servant stood there gasping for breath, "She's here!"

Cloud's eyes flew to the prince for an explanation; Rufus' thin lips curled up in a sinister smile.

"So, would you like to meet your assignment?"