October 0003
President Shinra stepped out of the open helicopter door, which was being held by a waiting trooper, and braced his sight for the onslaught of expected flashes. Night had fallen over the city, making the assault of lights even more annoying on his adjusted eyes. Cameras whirred, buzzing like bees in his ears amidst the inquiring shouts of reporters. He could feel his temples throbbing, signaling the beginnings of a migraine.
He sighed, taking in a deep breath through his nose. The sharp, distinct scent of mako energy clung to the air and welcomed him like a warm blanket back to his favorite spot on this wretched planet – his great city of Midgar. This was the smell of success, and he embraced it like an old friend as he left the slowly dying blades of the helicopter behind. Stepping off the platform and onto the waiting helipad complete with usual red carpet, he was greeted by his latest receptionist: a mousy young thing with short, business-like hair and attractive, full lips. She was wearing her typical pencil skirt and blouse, clipboard in hand and hair pulled up and out of her face.
"Welcome back, sir," the waiting receptionist nodded, barely making herself heard over the din. Shinra nodded to her absently, turning to eye the group of reporters with distaste. The worst thing about being the CEO and founder of such a powerful company and the greatest city the world had ever seen was the press that came with it; even if the press was owned by the company itself. They were like vultures, circling around him, waiting for him to take notice with clipboards raised as they preyed on the next big headline. Such was the life of the CEO of Shinra Electric Power Company, and he had already planned for their impatience from his important mission to Junon.
Finding out the insolence of his own flesh and blood had filled him with rage. Rufus was too much like him, too intent on seizing his own power and doing things the way he wanted. After all, he was a Shinra man, and Shinra men took what they wanted, no questions asked. They were destined to rule empires, build metropolises of wealth and abundance, and they were born leaders. It only made sense that Rufus had sold him out to the traitor bastards, Avalanche.
Still, as he had debated tossing his favorite son to some of Professor Hojo's more…unpleasant experiments, a lilting voice had rested calmly on his mind, reminding him that having an heir and maintaining a positive figure in the public eye had to be priority. That had calmed his murderous rage down into a vigor, which had resulted in him personally escorting his son to his new house arrest in Junon, where the second largest amassed infantry could keep a compelling eye on him.
As he began to stride past the reporters, pretending to not notice them, their questions sailed delectably into his ears.
"President Shinra, sir! Is it true you're punishing the vice president for recent allegations on your life?"
"Sir! Do you have news of any future peace talks with Wutai with the ceasefire in effect?"
"Thank you for coming," the president stepped up to the crowd, lifting his arms and smiling. "I will be happy to answer yours and Midgar's questions, as always. As to the situation with my dear son Rufus, he is taking an extended stay for his health in Junon. Any rumored allegations are, of course, false. My son and I remain as close as ever." Lying through his teeth was an easy game to play with this naïve bunch.
"In regards to Wutai, the ceasefire continues as long as they do not threaten Midgar and Shinra's livelihood. So long as they hold up their end, we will hold up our end."
He was going to make a few other characteristic comments on the people of Midgar and his honor to be with them once more, but he noticed the crowd's eyes collectively drift to the helicopter he had just flown in on, fresh meat in their sight. The bulbs began to flash again, frantically this time, twice as often as they had with him. President Shinra dropped his arms and demeanor, maintaining a momentary composure of politeness and leadership. He watched as his recently turned of age ward descended down the stairs, dressed in a light blue tea-length halter dress complete with sheer white scarf. Her light brown hair was pinned up snug behind her head, held in place by a pair of intricate, crossed hair sticks. She took a tentative step with her dainty heels onto the platform, eyes seeking him.
He strode back over to her, offering his hand for her to take so he could help her down the platform and onto the plush, red carpet. She smiled gratefully at him, and he smiled back. The cameras were having a heyday with the exchange, as he had hoped they would.
The reporters were clambering over each other now, desperate to be heard first.
"Aerith!"
"Look this way please!"
Aerith turned her head to the group and gave a dazzling smile, her bright, green eyes lit with excitement at the attention. Shinra ushered her forward, letting her have the spotlight for the time being while he looked on with a smug smirk.
"Remind me to thank Tseng again for his suggestion on bringing her with," he murmured carefully to the receptionist waiting next to him.
"Yes, sir," she said as she began writing on her clipboard. President Shinra watched the way Aerith interacted with the reporters, looking very much comfortable in her position. She had after all, been in the spotlight for the past…what was it now? Eleven years already? Getting dolled up and being in the limelight seemed to suit her very well, and her kind face being plastered across a swooning Midgar had, more than once, come in handy from some of his hairier scandals.
"Aerith, how do you feel about Rufus being in Junon?" One of the reporters asked, microphone outstretched as he egged his camera man to get a close up of her face. Aerith looked down for an appropriate moment, timing her reaction before meeting the camera head-on.
"I will miss him so much," she replied, emotions tangling in her light, airy voice. "I plan on writing to him once a week at least."
Cameras glistened as an audible sigh rose up from the crowd. Perfect answer, as always.
"Aerith!" another reporter elbowed her way in, eyes wild with excitement. "Do you have your eye on any men in Midgar?"
This one made her look down again, and her composure was for the slightest a seconds, broken. If he hadn't known her so well, President Shinra wouldn't have even noticed. Within a fraction of a second the grin returned to her face and she smiled sweetly.
"Not at the moment!" Aerith answered cheerfully, offering a quick wave and another pose before meeting President Shinra, who escorted her towards his office with her arm wrapped in his. Lights flashed their shadows onto the platform as they made their way across the carpet and into the warmth of his office, receptionist quickly following behind. Another trooper stood at attention with the door open, closing it when they had passed through. President Shinra sighed and dimmed the windows to cut off his connection with the menagerie of journalists fighting for one final picture. The reporters would be ushered back to the side entrance, leaving him finally in peace.
"Good job, as always," he said, voice all business as he let her arm go and nodded for the receptionist to take her leave. She scurried out of the room, leaving him with Aerith. He straightened his tie. "I appreciate your assistance on this…delicate matter."
"Of course," Aerith replied, smile dropping to a more normal, polite level. "I'm always happy to help."
Shinra pulled back his throne of a chair, sinking into its plush seat and leaning forward, fingertips pressing together in front of his chin as he stared at his ward. He could hardly believe she had been here for eleven years now. It seemed like only yesterday when he had gotten the news of her mother's attempted escape and ultimate death, leaving the girl an orphan and the last living connection to the race of Ancients he had searched so hard for. Professor Hojo had suggested many, many ideas on what to do with the young girl, some of which made even his stomach turn. He had demanded to meet the child, thinking a face-to-face would help solve the dilemma of what to do with her.
And then Tseng, the then relatively young Turk who showed great promise in some of his earlier missions, had stepped forward with a proposition approved by Rufus himself – for the image of Shinra as a company, it would benefit him greatly to take in a ward, especially one with as big of eyes and prettiest of faces as this little girl. She must have been no more than seven at the time, eyes fresh with tears at the loss of her mother and her small body shying away from the scientist leering at her. She had made eye contact with him and President Shinra had instantly been sold. Keeping her with him would allow her to resume experimenting with Hojo, but would also protect her from his more sick scenarios. Plus, it meant that Shinra himself could oversee her artistic studies, making sure she had every outlet available to point him in the direction of his Promised Land.
It turned out that having Aerith around as eye candy for the media proved to be more fruitful than he ever could have imagined, too. She constantly stole the hearts of the city and the world, and requests for photo shoots, interviews, and candids brimmed for years. She picked up the spotlight easily, her smile coming effortlessly and her eyes shining with hope. Shinra and Aerith reached an understanding as she grew older, a wordless agreement that she would help him in his public limelight in return for her continued safety and health…and the rare, occasional personal request she would bequeath him.
The smile had faded from her face now and Aerith was now biting her lip, hands clasped gently in front of her as she studied the glassy floor beneath her feet.
"What is it, child?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. For all of her years under his care, she hardly ever asked him for something in a genuine manner, and when she did, she always had this slightly guilty look on her face, as if asking would be too much. This was that exact expression down to the letter, meaning she wanted something from him.
Aerith stopped biting her lip, looking up at him with her lips forming an 'o' of surprise. Then she closed her mouth and bowed her head.
"I would like to visit the church," she asked softly, folding her fingers together as if she was praying. The request hung in the air as Shinra frowned at her, mentally calculating the last time she had been to pray. Hadn't she just gone a few months earlier for her annual pilgrimage in honor of her mother? She wasn't allowed in the disgusting slums as it was, save for this single yearly event he allotted her. Needless to say, he didn't like his ward being amongst the infestation of poor people below.
"What purpose would you have for doing that? You already went for your mother this year," he voiced his thoughts, leaning back and crossing his arms. "You know I don't like you being down there. You could get hurt by monsters or worse."
Worse – the vermin of the underbelly of this majestic city, he thought wryly.
Aerith lifted her head back up, her green eyes glistening in the dim light of the office as they drifted down to where her fingers began playing with the strings on her scarf.
"It's been a year," she said, voice barely a whisper. "Since Zack disappeared."
So that's what this was about. President Shinra's mind wandered back to a few years earlier, when the young SOLDIER had been her bodyguard on her annual pilgrimage. Some kind of friendship had formed from that moment, and she had requested him every year since. When he had found out that they had been seeing each other in secret, he had nearly the boy killed on the spot. Luckily, Aerith's bleeding heart compassion had begged him to let the boy stay, and she promised she would no longer meet him in secret. Shinra cursed his own growing softness and had agreed, putting the SOLDIER on mission after mission instead. When he made First Class, the business of his schedule had taken over Shinra's own personal requests.
"First Class SOLDIER Zack Fair was declared dead on mission," he reminded her. She glanced up, eyes steely for the slightest moment. Both knew that this was a lie. He wondered just how much she knew with that Ancient intuition of hers.
It was a pity to lose the last of the First Class SOLDIERS, even President Shinra could understand that. First the embarrassing debacle with his scientist Hollander and Genesis, then the resulting situation with Angeal, had been something he as a CEO had not been proud of. The science department had already been on a tight string when the…incident occurred in that backwater country town whose name had escaped him.
He frowned at the memory of finding out his best SOLDIER, propaganda piece, and potential future spouse to Aerith had gone mad and destroyed the town. While this had been perplexing enough, the fact that Sephiroth had been defeated by a mere trooper had nearly caused him to blow a gasket. He hadn't necessarily been thinking clearly when he found out that both the trooper and Zack Fair were alive and approved Professor Hojo to take them in for his latest experiments. His mind had been reeling, and of course having Aerith's little fling gone should have made things easier, too. That seemed to have backfired in his direction.
Now she stood in front of him, hands clasped, practically pleading to endanger herself to mourn the loss of this boy. It reminded him that she was not a Shinra and would never be more than a pawn to control his people and satiate his desire to find the Promised Land.
"Is this to become a yearly occurrence?" Shinra asked coolly, frowning at her. Something flickered behind Aerith's eyes, a fire he hadn't seen from her much as she knew his disapproval of talking back.
"Until he is found," she responded, standing up a bit taller. "You know the church is one of the only places I get to be myself."
Shinra sighed, rubbing a hand on his forehead. That migraine was in full swing now, the throbbing traveling from his temples to just behind his eyes as the relatively dim lights in his office pulsed brightly.
"Very well," he conceded with a grumble. "I'll arrange for a member of the Turks to escort you to the church and back."
Aerith's face burst into a grin and she practically bounced as she bobbed her head in a bow again.
"Thank you so much, sir," she replied in earnest as she clasped her hands. "It means the world to me to visit the church."
"I expect you to do something for me in return," he told her solemnly, and her smile faltered for a moment.
"O-of course," she murmured, excitement dimming once more. "What would you like?"
"A new painting," Shinra declared. "Two days in isolation should do it."
Aerith sighed and drooped her shoulders slightly.
"Very well," she accepted quietly, bowing her head again and turning to leave.
"You'll lead us there, don't worry," he encouraged as her heeled footsteps echoed through his majestic office. "With your assistance, we will get to the Promised Land."
Where I can have a limitless supply of mako and build my Neo Midgar, he hummed inwardly, gleefully. It was almost within his grasp now, and one of these days she would figure it out and bring him to his future metropolis. After all, there didn't seem to be anything his star of Midgar couldn't do.
