As a workaholic, Rufus ShinRa paid a lot of attention to detail. If something didn't go exactly how he wantd it to, it would have to be redone from start to finish. That was the way things were done. No other way was acceptable. His environment followed the same principle. It had to be almost completely silent in order for the young man to focus his mind. The silence lay over his world like a fluffy blanket of new-fallen snow. He had seen snow only once, at the cursed blemish if this planet - the Northern Crater. It was a big let-down. No -- this silence that filled him and his life was thicker, more substantial than snow. It had presence and volume, and felt irritatingly dry. Even the smallest of things would add to the silence. At times he felt as if the hands of a ticking clock were counting off his own life. Footsteps, hushed voices, soft breaths, harsh breaths, rustling of sheets and moans and destinies. Yes, a lot of things happened in this all-consuming, white silence.
The thing that was eating at him was silent. It revealed nothing about itself or it's purpose, even as it slowly poisoned his mind and flesh. Tseng, too, was silent, as he stripped off the blackened bandages with the utmost care and gentleness, only to replace them with clean ones. "Why do you bother, Tseng? They're fresh and pure now but they will just be tarnished again in a few hours..." He would ask, staring at the bright sunlight pouring from his bedroom window. He still retained most of his vision, but it was nowhere near what it used to be. "Because... I believe you can get over this, sir. Because even things which are unclean can become good again."
Rufus ShinRa did not answer.