Disclaimer: Not mine, as always.

Notes: Written for writerzbloc after promising her this fic two months ago, and dedicated to certain others who encouraged me to finish this through fangirling—and in some cases, fanboying.

Cenotaph

'You should not have hidden Mother.' Kadaj murmurs, sweeping past in a creak of leather and metal, stalking around Rufus like a hungry predator who toys with its prey before striking.

'I have told you—'

The spirit makes a small sound of disapproval. 'I had hoped your Turks would have been helpful. Do you know what we did to him, Shachou?' His voice is a silken purr, cat-like eyes gleaming with childish innocence and something far more sinister. Madness, and sadistic will. Pale lips curl into a tiny smile. 'Do you want to know how he screamed?'

Fingers tighten against the arm of the wheelchair, knuckles going white. A word lingers on his lips unspoken, unsure of whether he wishes to know or remain ignorant of his Turk's suffering. The bloodstains were verification enough of their fate, loyal to the very end, not only to him but their promise to repay their debt to the Planet.

'He was defiant to a fault,' recalling Tseng's silent stoicism as the blade first touched his skin. 'So willing to die.'

Rufus finds himself suddenly grateful for the shroud concealing him from prying eyes. It would not do to show such vulnerability now.

'He begged us not to harm her, but we found her screams only amplified his own.'

'Stop it.' Words even, his composure never faltering despite his inner struggle to dispel the unwanted imagery of his lover tortured to the point of breaking. His suffering must have been so great, unbearable.

'He had but one request,' voice lilting, as slender fingertips trail along an exposed jawline. He laughs then, his tone deepening, taking on the barest hint of accent. 'Rufus. Don't harm him.'

Rufus flinches, 'Stop it!'

'Rufus,' Kadaj smiles, and repeats the name once more. Cold lips brush against his own, gloved hand sliding beneath the shroud to tangle in strands of pale gold. 'Rufus. My Rufus.'

'Tseng.' He breathes. It is too real, this charade of voice and mannerism. So real that if it was not for those eyes of venomous green, he could lose himself. And he closes his eyes, allowing fingers to wrap around an arm, clinging and willing to overlook for a moment that it is leather and not the twill of a perfectly tailored suit. 'Oh Shiva … Tseng.'

'You love him, Shachou? Tch, you could have saved him.' And for a moment Rufus knows that he would have broken had he known, and damned them all. Weakness, Tseng would have called it, but he is no Turk and not trained for such contingency.

'But you had to hide Mother. He bled for your insolence toward Her. Bled and pleaded for your safety.'

'I don't want to hear—'

'Shh.' Kadaj kisses him once more, the gesture almost loving, consoling.

'Kadaj.' He starts, a hand grasping at his hair, jerking him to meet inhuman eyes. They stare, wordless, Kadaj seeking out one painfully blue eye, seeing the barest etchings of regret and a type of lingering despair.

'It would be a pity to know he died in vain, Shachou.' The movement is swift, the sword double bladed, deadly sharp and pressed against his throat. 'Where is Mother?'

'The monstrosity would best be lost forever.' Rufus hisses in defiance, and a type of firm resolve understanding that he has sealed his fate. The blades biting into pale flesh as his breath quickens, waiting for the inevitable for it is only a matter of moments before the spirit deems him useless, and wondering what it is worth to have been saved from the ruins only to have it end this way. Alone, with a pitiable, insane child who brings the promise of ruin.

He will find the answers in the Lifesteam, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut, concealed hand wrapping tightly around the sealed box. He knows with a certainty that there is no hope for them now. The fate of the world tucked away between the folds of white, hidden so well from even the most attentive of hunter. He could trust none other. And for his own mistrust and conceit he has condemned the Planet.

'Give Tseng my regards, Shachou.'

An easy death, and an end to despair.

'The Memorial—'

'What?'

'The Memorial, in the plaza.' Buying time with lies.

Kadaj stares at him for a moment, considering this, and nods, withdrawing and sheathing his blade.

Rufus does not open his eyes until he hears the muffled phone conversation, and exhales a shuddering sigh.

This time, he determines, ShinRa will not be held to blame.

fin