Sorry this took so long. I've been working on some original fiction and I've had to get used to a new routine at home, so I put this off for too long. But here it is. Enjoy.

BC Turks:

Keiko – Martial Arts Female

Rayya – Knife

Yes, Mako-powered helicopters can go as fast as jumbo jets… Question not my physics.

Warnings: Cussing

Of Tears And Blood

Chapter 2 – Giri and Ninjo

Junon, May 9, 1993

The ride to Junon had been slow and tedious. Tseng had been silent the entire flight, refusing to so much as look at Rufus. It had taken them nearly four hours just to reach the airfield at Costa Del Sol, where they refueled before setting out on the four hour flight to Junon. Rufus checked his watch. It was still on Corel time, but that meant it was only four hours behind. It was 6:52 in the morning. No wonder Junon was so quiet. If it had been Midgar people would have been getting their morning coffees. But Junon started later.

"Your father has ordered me to place you under house arrest," Tseng intoned emotionlessly. He didn't look at Rufus as he slipped his keycard into the lock of Rufus' apartment. "You are not to leave this apartment or attempt to contact the outside world until your father allows otherwise."

Rufus grumbled a noncommittal noise and shoved his way into the flat. He ignored Tseng as he strode into his living room, flipping on the lights.

"Look, Rufus," Tseng began, shutting the door behind him. "I'm sorry… I hate that I have to do this—"

"No, you don't!" Rufus spat. "You're enjoying this little power game! You ignore me the entire way here and now you say you're sorry?"

"I know how you feel about your father. I know why you did this. You want his chair. But I refuse to—"

"If you were really sorry you'd take me to my father so that I could finish what I started!"

Rufus' face was flushed with fury. His jaw was clenched, his eyes flashing.

"I will not help you become a murderer." Tseng's voice was quiet. His face was carefully blank, but his eyes spoke of his discontent. The betrayal that now festered between them. "I have to speak with your father. I'll return tomorrow morning."

"You're leaving me here?"

"You will be guarded."

Tseng walked away and Rufus scowled. "Get back here, Turk! I'm not finished!"

"That's never worked on me, Rufus," Tseng replied over his shoulder. A moment later the door was closed, locked, and Rufus was alone. Alone with his thoughts.

"You fucking idiot," he scolded, not sure who he was reprimanding. He slammed himself down into the cream leather of the couch, tossing his gloves frustratedly and letting his blond head fall into his hands.

Damn it, damn it! You've fucked up and now you're going to die! How hard can it possibly be to kill one man? Especially when that one man is your own father. It hadn't been hard for him when he—no! Do. Not. Think. About. That!

Had he lacked his self-control he would have trashed the apartment. Had he been a weaker man he would have cried. But he would not cry. He hadn't cried since he was a child, and nothing that happened to him could ever be as horrible as that day.

Tseng leaned on the closed door and took a deep breath. He felt like he was abandoning the boy, but he had to go back to Midgar and give his report. Even if that meant leaving Rufus in the care of the other Turks.

Junon was silent around him and the light of the full moon cast everything in a milky light, even as the morning glow invaded the indigo sky. He could hear the waves crashing on the city walls far below. The distant sound was strangely calming.

Tseng made his way to the railing and leaned, his elbows resting on the metal surface. The ocean below sparkled like crystal in the moonlight, heaving against the city like an army at the battlements of some ancient fortress.

It had been near impossible to ignore Rufus on the long journey from Corel. The boy may have been silent, but Tseng's every nerve screamed at him to comfort him. Tell him everything would be fine. But he wasn't so sure of that himself, and he couldn't lie to Rufus.

He knew why the boy wanted his father dead and he didn't blame him. In fact, he dearly hoped that one day Henry Shinra got what was coming to him. But for now he had a duty. And in his homeland duty was everything.

Footsteps clacked across pavement—the only sound above the ocean. Tseng recognized the gait long before Rude's deep voice broke the quiet.

"The doctors can't wake Anya," the tall man said without preamble. "Reno's pretty rattled."

"Tell him to take a couple of days off."

"What about Rufus?" Rude asked, joining Tseng at the railing.

"We can handle him. Rayya's here." Tseng turned away from the ocean, facing Rude's impassive gaze. "How are Cissnei and Marcus?"

"Marc's stable but it was a close one. He was in septic shock when he got here, but he's pulled through just fine. Cissnei's just got out of surgery. She's a little buzzed on morphine, but she should be a hundred percent in a few hours."

"Good. We're going to need them fighting fit sooner rather than later."

A miniscule nod was all Tseng got from the stoic young man. His sunglasses obscured his eyes, making it nearly impossible for the wutaian to read him. All that showed of his uneasiness was the small grimace that he tried desperately to hide. Knowing that Rude wouldn't likely want to talk about it, Tseng avoided the subject.

"Is the helicopter ready?" he asked instead.

"Yes." Rude jerked his head toward the airport. "Kupono's in the cockpit waiting."

Tseng glanced at the window of Rufus' flat—the only one lit on the entire street. He could imagine the blond inside fuming.

"Take care of Rufus for me," he said, keeping his expression every bit the authoritative leader that Veld had obviously thought he was, and that his father would have expected him to be. He clapped Rude's upper arm the way Veld always had. I'll be back by tomorrow." With that, he headed for the airport.

It was nearly ten AM when Tseng's helicopter touched down on the Shinra helipad. His exhaustion made itself known as he rose from the seat. It had been a long day in Corel and had been eleven PM Midgar-time when they'd left the mining town. Now, after two flights and the refueling stop between, it was 9:49 AM. He'd been awake for almost twenty-eight hours.

Now he had to face President Shinra. It was a rough day, that was for certain. But he'd had worse.

With the engine powering down—the rotors whistling to a stop—Tseng slid the side door ajar. He hopped onto the tarmac, ducking under the slowing blades. Stepping around to the pilot's side he tapped on the window.

Kupono slipped off his headset and opened the cockpit hatch. His haggard face was framed by the unkempt tangle of his usually well-groomed fringe. "Yes, sir?"

"You're relieved, Kupono. Go home and get some sleep. I'll get Keiko to fly me back."

The young man nodded. "Thanks, sir."

Tseng was one of the few people in all of the vast conglomerate known as Shinra Electric Power Company that could freely enter the President's office. His keycard gave him access to the seventieth floor and he was permitted to enter unannounced. After all, he'd been expected to report to him if there had been problems with Rufus. No matter the hour. He supposed that now it would be because he was the Director of the Turks.

The elevator doors opened to a short hall. At the opposite end was a glass door with the company logo on it. A quick tap on it was all Tseng gave before stepping into the spacious office beyond.

"Sir. I've just returned from Corel."

The blond head behind the desk lifted from the paperwork laid out before him.

President Henry Shinra's face was round and fat with the evidence of his wealth. Beady blue eyes gazed at Tseng in a nigh dismissive manner, but there was a darkness there too. A coldness that Tseng didn't like the look of.

"You've done well with Rufus. How is he?"

"Well enough," Tseng replied as the portly man rose from his chair. "He's angry, of course."

"I trust he is well guarded?"

"There's nothing to worry about, sir. Rude, Luthais, and Rayya are watching him. He won't escape."

"Good." Henry moved around the desk, leaning on it, facing Tseng. With him closer the wutaian could see something in his eyes that he hadn't before. Rage. "It's a shame really," he continued. "The boy would have inherited my place one day."

"Would have?"

"Yes. But unfortunately the cat's out of the bag. The problem must be dealt with. I stated publicly that the one responsible for the funding and informing of AVALANCHE would face the full punishment. I'm a man of my word."

Tseng swallowed hard. His voice tremored. "What is to be done with him?"

"Had this been kept quiet I would have put him under house arrest. But now… things are different. He's been charged with treason."

The Turk froze. The President's last word thundered around in his head; the bottom falling out of his stomach as if he'd just leapt from a great height.

"Sir… the punishment for treason—"

"Is death. Yes." Henry moved closer, squaring with the smaller man. "Look, I hate to have to ask this of you, after all the work you put in raising him. But I trust you. I'm sending a firing squad and a media crew back to Junon with you. I'll be counting on you to see the execution through."

"Yes, sir." The words came out on autopilot. All Tseng could focus on was not doing or saying anything he shouldn't.

"Do you have anything else to report?"

"A casualty. Anya's slipped into a coma. The doctors can't be sure when she'll wake." Gods, his throat was dry… he could barely think. He hadn't felt like this in a long time.

"Link up with the secondary division."

"Sir, they're still…"

"There are no other options. Unless you can find other replacements."

"Yes, sir."

President Shinra's eyes narrowed in exasperation. Tseng recognized the signs of his infamous temper growing short. "Is there anything else?"

Tseng almost shook his head, but was glad he hesitated.

"I've had a report from Rufus."

Tseng hoped his apprehension didn't show.

"Veld has disappeared."

"Ye- Yes, he has." Tseng gulped. Rufus was angry, there was no doubt. And when he got angry he got spiteful. He knew that his father would kill Tseng for letting Veld leave. All he had to do was let slip that information. He'd have his revenge. They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms.

Tseng waited for the other shoe to drop. It never did.

"From now on, you will be in charge of the Turks." At those words, Tseng let out a breath he hadn't meant to hold. So Rufus was feeling magnanimous. "Don't forget: The Turks are entrusted with this company's top classified information. The only kind of retirement a Turk is entitled to comes with a body bag."

Tseng fought the urge to strike him. He could have so easily killed the pudgy old fool. It would be so simple. So simple to toy with the life of the one who toyed with millions. But if he did he would never make it out of the building alive.

"Therefore," Henry growled, "I am giving the Turks new orders. Find Veld! And when you do, kill him!"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't disappoint me." The gaze that fixed on Tseng pierced to the bone. It made him feel like Henry knew everything about him.

"I won't, sir."

With a salute Tseng turned to depart. He moved stiffly from the office and into the elevator. Once the door closed he drew a shaky breath. He wouldn't have called himself a spiritual man, but he still hoped, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Leviathan was listening when he spoke.

"What am I supposed to do? What do I heed? Duty? Or instinct?"

Despite his hopes, no one answered.