Author's Note: No clue where it came from. Maybe because of that talk about muses misbehaving and needing torture with AV. Of course I could have misunderstood her. But to comfort her Reno muse (as best I can), I made this. Too bad it's sad.

Theme: Home

Question

Fights happened. Bar brawls and fist fights and the occasional ruckus was in there too. But there were sadder fights than those. Abuse of children, fights within families, and worst of all of those being beating someone you claimed to love and who loved you back within inches of their lives. And sometimes even those inches were lost. Sometimes the abused retaliated. Sometimes they fought back because they couldn't take it anymore.

He knew that, he really did, but the thought of being a mere statistic disgusted him. It would anyone when they realized they were one of those faceless, nameless masses. Masses who had enough and fought back. Masses who were victims and treated like criminals. It didn't matter how of course, because Midgar loved a show, loved watching a victim pushed to the edge. It was what the city was. They loved a vigilante, they loved to read about their deaths when the 'fair trails' came to an end. Life and death were a circus in the city these days. And he was the ring master.

Reeve could imagine it now, he really could. The slums would applaud him in some areas, while others would denounce him. Who was he, after all, to tell their mighty president no? Who was he to be the one who got that killing shot in? Who was he to have even been worthy of the white clad savior? Hell, who was he? Just a lowly executive. The new attraction in their silly games.

They would thing they deserved to know. But there was a more important question that no one would be willing to ask. What would have been left of him if he had let it go on? The man had destroyed his city, his dignity, his home, and his body. Another question: why hadn't he realized this dangerous invader for what it was long ago? Why did it take the 'blue blood' of this 'mighty man' staining the immaculate white suit red with all the lies and broken promises before he realized it? Most important of all, why did it hurt to know that he had killed the man who would have killed him? Was it because he had thought himself in love?

But that is the thing about questions you know. No matter how many were asked, some would always be left unanswered, and others would lead to yet more questions. Like the one the Turks had to ask of themselves when they came upon the scene later that day. Why had calm, sweet Reeve Tuesti shot President Rufus? And was it really the torture they would have given him for it that lead to the man taking his own life afterwards? What could drive such a pushover over the edge?

And that… that was the one that they would never know the answer to.