Title: Five Life Lessons
Author: CrisisChild
Summary: That Rufus Shinra learned from his mother.
Rated: K+
Beta'd: Nope
Editted & Remastered: Yeap.
Diclaimer: I do not own Rufus Shinra or any part of the FFVII Compilation. I just write bad fanfictions. Yeap.
Life Lesson #2
Don't Let Them See You Bleed
"Oh, my god. Rufus, baby, what happened?" His mother immediately swooped in on her boy, touching his face, his arms - holding his hands with horror on her face. Was that a bruise on his cheek? He was all scratched up and bleeding! "Baby, how did this happen?"
Rufus couldn't quite look his mother in the eye, too ashamed to. He had gotten himself beaten up, because the other kids made fun of her and he rose to her defence, getting hurt in the process. They had heard stories from their parents about his mother and spread nasty rumours around school; she wasn't his real mother. 'How could she be?' they had whispered conspiratorily to each other behind hands, pretending they didn't know Rufus was around to hear. According to those mean kids their parents told them that his mother was someone else. He said nothing, but his mother - rough hands and all - forced him to look up at her by gently guiding his chin.
For all of her quiet and gentility, if Rufus had to choose being afraid of someone – his father or his mother – he would have to say in that very moment, his mother was the most frightening thing of all. Not because she raised her voice. Not because she would strike him or tell him awful things. It was because she looked straight at him and only him, seeing him when he did not want to be seen or found.
His mother with deep brown eyes not like his own at all. His dear mother whose love he feared to lose.
"Baby, tell me what happened. You know I'll find out anyways."
His mother who somehow always knew everything.
Rufus gulped nervously under her silk-steel gaze.
"I got into a fight with the other kids," Rufus mumbled begrudgingly.
His mother frowned. "I thought we got things sorted out with them."
Not quite, they'd just found a different way to bother him.
She looked him over again, seeing some marks were older, some just starting to fade and a terrible realization comes over the woman. Her eyes softened and she became sad - Rufus hated it when she was sad. He hated being the one who made her sad. Father had been doing enough of that on his own.
"This isn't the first time," she whispered with dawning realization. And that sadness deepened in her voice, which made the child's insides squirm.
Rufus looked at the carpet. He shook his head.
There was silence. Then an exasperated sigh.
"Probably not the last time, I bet," remarked Rufus' mother. She caressed his face and he leaned into that touch to savour it. As her hand continued to pet her son's face she spoke to him seriously. "Rufus I can't really tell you what to do half the time, but try to listen to mother this time. Try not to let them see you bleed."
Rufus blinked at this, wondering where his mother was going with her words.
"Don't fight back – no, listen to me." Her hand was on his chin and held it firmly so their gazes would continuously meet. He shivered involuntarily under that silk-steel gaze, wondering if she had been a policewoman once upon a time, before meeting father. She was a lot like those people in those programs, interrogating criminals. Her eyes unwaveringly questing for answers. "They want you to fight them. But you are a Shinra, Rufus. Fighting is beneath you. Others can do the fighting for you or you can avoid the fighting, have your enemies tire themselves out and look the fools. I know you have your own reasons, baby, for getting hurt like this, but your mother would feel much better not seeing you come home bleeding all the time."
He would make no promises on that, but Rufus tried his best. Scared of those eyes as he was, he would rather they looked out at the world as they were than be filled with sadness again.
In the years to come Rufus kept a good track record of sidestepping blows, dodging bullets and deflecting attacks onto other people, right until he claimed the presidency. That one time he really should have just left on the helicopter instead of engaging that odd ex-SOLDIER, Cloud, in a battle. It really was too bad; they could have been friends, but he supposed not.
He had ruined his good suit in the duel. He frowned at the blood staining his knuckles and ran fingers over them, wondering. Thinking. Remembering.
Musing over how his own hands seemed too soft moving over his own.