Every morning, he would stroll in at exactly 10:00 o'clock (that was just like him, being exactly on time; A detail that showed he was the hard-working business-man that he was.)

And every morning, he would intentionally sit directly in front of her, ignoring the little sign on the wall as he pulled out a pack of his favorite brand of cigarettes.

This morning had been no different from the rest. He had walked through the doorway at 10:00, ordered the usual drink from across the room, and sat at the table in the "No Smoking" section that the other customers had long ago recognized as his seat. As the brunette filled his mug with the golden alcoholic beverage, she looked over towards him, taking in his image.

There was something… different about him: something that set him apart from the others residing in the slums of Midgar. His golden locks shone as they formed a thin curtain in front of his icy blue eyes, and although clean hair was rarely seen in this part of town, that was not what caught her eye.

Perhaps it was the fact that his white three-piece suit showed no sign of wrinkles or stains? Although that was also uncommon around here, that was not it either.

Tifa was immediately brought back to her senses as she felt the cold beverage flow over the tips of the mug and pour onto her hand. Cursing quietly, she switched the tap off, drying her hand with her stained apron before walking out towards her "different" customer.

"Here you are, Mr. Shinra," she announced, quieted by her curiosity. His eyes followed her hands until she released the mug, his eyes then not leaving the table.

"Thank you."

With a slight nod and a small smile, she turned back to her post behind the bar. Tifa looked back at the entrance. Seeing no new customers, she was content with resting an elbow on the surface of the bar and cupping her chin in her hand. Unconsciously, her eyes found their way back to him.

What was it that made him so different? He didn't dance to the beat of a different drum. He didn't scream and shout like a child. His life was flowing at the same rate as everyone else, just trying to find his place in the world. Sure, he may have looked different, but he was still the same as everyone else.

Tifa was pulled from her thoughts as the mysterious man known as Rufus Shinra reached into his shirt pocket; constant repetition of this action instantly letting her know what he was doing.

Rufus Shinra, after a brief amount of searching, pulled out a package of "Lucky Stripes" brand cigarettes from his pocket, drawing one from the package with his lips. Long ago, Tifa had given up on stopping him. She was used to the smell of cigarette smoke, and the other customers didn't seem to mind, so she didn't see any reason to stop him, knowing that he would just repeat the whole process the next day.

"Why do you do that?" She was shocked at her sudden question, instantly bringing her hand to her lips. The interruption caused him to look up.

"Do what, Ms. Lockhart?"

Tifa closed her wine-colored eyes before gulping. "… Why do you always smoke in that same chair every morning, even though you know it's in the No Smoking section?" She quickly sputtered out an explanation. "Don't get me wrong; it doesn't bother me, and it doesn't seem to be bothering the other customers, I'm just curious!"

Rufus could not help but chuckle quietly at her child-like expression. "Well, Ms. Lockhart…" He paused to take a long drag on his cigarette. "… I guess you could say that I'm trying to catch a certain someone's attention…" Tifa blinked as he threw the cigarette butt on the ground to stomp it out. Had he really just said what she thought he said?

Rufus emitted a sigh as he drank the last of his drink, emptying the mug. He placed a handful of gil on the table. "Thank you for the drink. Keep the change, Ms. Lockhart." And in an instant, he was gone.

It was then that she realized what was so different about him: He was confident, and very unpredictable.

But there was one thing that Tifa Lockhart could be sure of about him:

Rufus Shinra would arrive at exactly 10:00 tomorrow, order his drink, and pull out a pack of Lucky Stripe cigarettes.

And who knows; maybe tomorrow, he would sit at the bar instead of a table?