Author's Note: Once again, I feel I have no legitimate excuse...I swear I'm the slowest author alive...this may be my shortest author's note to date O.O Well anyway, I hope it's worth the wait for you guys! As always, I'm grateful to anyone who reviews, especially those who have so far! I love you guys, you make my life!! =)
Disclaimer: Absolutely not.
:. Sheer Equality.:
Chapter Five: Diverged
Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air to a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
A walk on part in the war,
For a lead role in a cage?
- - - - - - -
The maze of hallways that had taken her to the office didn't seem complicated when she was with Tseng. They'd reached his office in under a minute. But now, the 65th floor was a labyrinth of endless hallways and doors bearing polished name plates. It was as if the architect of Shinra Inc. had purposely arranged the offices in the most confusing way possible...for some reason, she didn't doubt it. It would make sense to make people who don't belong here get lost, she mused.
Losing track of how many turns she had taken, she began to walk aimlessly. Finally, she caught a glimpse of the metallic door of the elevator at the end of the umpteenth hallway she had been traveling along, shining like beacons of light in contrast to the starkness of white walls surrounding her.
Sighing with relief, she pushed the button and entered. She leaned against the walls in the corner, feeling her body being dragged slowly to the ground, suddenly very heavy. It was only then that she allowed thoughts concerning the interview to flood her mind. By the way the interview had gone, she doubted she would ever see the inside of Shinra again. Take a good look, Elena...it may be the last time. Was it that Tseng wasn't interested in what she had to say, or was she just not giving the right answers? She'd wished that she had more experience with job interviews, or maybe that she had been given more time to think about what she was saying. And it was incredibly frustrating that Tseng was impossible to read; she couldn't gauge any reaction from him after she'd answered any of his questions.
If the ride up to the 65th floor was long, then the ride down to the ground floor lasted for an eternity. She fiddled with her fingers, tried to see her reflection in one of the metallic walls, anything to keep herself busy and to allow herself to forget what had just transpired. No others joined her on the way down, so the only other sound she heard was the hum of the elevator. Putting her head against one of the polished walls, Elena closed her eyes and drifted off until the ding of the elevator made her eyes jolt open again.
She was greeted by the ever-present whitewashed walls, and she hurried down the long hallway until it opened up into the familiar lobby. Across the room, Elena spotted the secretary from before, immersed in some paperwork. But when Elena began to walk toward the exit, the secretary's eyes darted up at her. Before the woman could say anything to her, she picked up her pace down the now immeasurable distance to the door and didn't turn around, yet she could feel the woman's eyes piercing her back like knives.
* * * * *
The clouds that hung low in the sky on her drive home had transformed into a full-fledged storm. Just the walk from the curb where she parked to the front door resulted in her getting soaked. After fumbling with her keys for some indeterminable amount of time, she jerked open the front door and bolted inside, breathing a sigh of relief. She glanced at a window on the other side of the foyer. The street wasn't even visible because of the rain that pelted against the window. Forget storm; this was a hurricane.
She heard the distant sound of the TV coming from the living room and knew that her father was watching the newscast, as he did every day. Not that there was much of a point in watching it. Elena's gaze fell on the chair in the corner of the room, where the books she'd brought home earlier were stacked rather precariously, still untouched. She could just see the hours and hours of homework staring her in the face. But, against her will, she picked up the stack and tottered over to the stairs, taking them up to her room. She dropped the burdensome load on her desk and gave them a disgusted look.
Now, what to do? The original plan, and the entire point of her moving the books, was that she was going to do some work, but she'd changed her mind somewhere between the chair in the foyer and her desk. Well, there was always music. She turned on the radio on her shelf and flopped into a chair.
The song that filled the room was an upbeat version of a track from Loveless. She closed her eyes and gave a little smile. She couldn't help but admit that she enjoyed the frivolous, carefree plots of cheesy romances; they helped her to forget the troubles of the world around her, if only for a while. The song ended, and the radio DJ announced that the station was giving away free, front row seat tickets to the show, if a caller answered a trivia question correctly. Just then, the phone downstairs gave a harsh ring.
Assuming her parents were out of its reach, Elena hurried down the stairs toward the phone. But when she reached the foot of the stairs, she heard her father's voice speaking to someone on the other end.
"Yes, this is he." A pause. "You don't mean...you're not....of the Turks, right?" His voice was growing more anxious. "Where is she?" A longer pause.
"How can you not know? And what do you mean, 'more important matters'? What other business do you have with this family other than-" He stopped, and Elena's eyes grew wide. What was going on? She quickly rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, finding her father with a disconcerted expression on his face and his hand gripping a nearby countertop. His back was to her, and he didn't acknowledge Elena's presence. "How do you know of her?" He hissed, his tone darkening.
From across the room, a frightened and bewildered Elena asked, "Dad, what's going on? Who is it?" He whirled around in surprise, and putting a hand over the receiver, he spoke evenly, "Elena, go to your room." The tension was clearly tangible, becoming heavier by the second.
"I can assure you, sir, no matter is important enough to allow you to speak with her! You cannot expect me to let the same mistake happen twice!" He bellowed.
Elena gasped and felt her face redden. "This is about me, isn't it? Dad, give me the phone!" But before she could say any more, the phone was hung up and it clattered to the floor.
"Sit down, Elena." She did as she was told, feeling the impending, inevitable argument. "I was just speaking with a man named Tseng. Do you know who this man is?" By the manner in which he was purposely subduing his angry tone, she knew that he knew the answer to his own question. She tried to remain calm, swallowing a lump in her throat and nodding.
He continued, "Do you know what this man does for a living?" Elena thought for a second, letting the pieces come together in her mind. The man had said that he was interviewing her for the "Investigative Division of the Department of Administrative Research"...she was about to open her mouth and tell her father this, but she stopped herself, recalling what had just occurred minutes before.
"You don't mean...you're not...of the Turks, right?" Suddenly everything made perfect sense. The questions during the interview, Tseng's indifferent manner, the redhead from the alley...did Tseng really think she could be a Turk? And the phone call from a moment ago...it was for her! He wanted to speak with her, and her father didn't allow it! She felt anger flare up within her, and she stood up abruptly.
"Answer me!" He hollered. "How did you come into contact with him? Or anyone associated with that damned company?!"
"Why does it matter how it happened? They think I can be a Turk; that's all that matters!" Elena yelled back. "For once in my life, someone thinks I'm capable of being something, and you have to ruin it for me!"
"Will someone tell me what this is about?" Her mother, hearing the argument, had come running into the room, visibly startled by what she was hearing.
"It's nothing, dear," Her father assured her unconvincingly, his enraged gaze at Elena not flickering or faltering.
"No, of course it's not," Elena spat at him, giving him one last icy glare before leaving the room.
* * * * *
The door to her room was locked, and she was in utter darkness, with the exception of the little light from the streetlamps that leaked in through the rain-spattered window. She lay face down on her bed, trying to let her anger pass and to think logically. What am I going to do?
She considered what options she had. She could ignore the entire situation, and let her life continue on as it had been. As normally as possible. She immediately banished that thought. But what other choice did she have? Her only contact with Shinra had just been cut off. With a heavy heart, she dug around in her pocket until she found the small, now crumpled piece of paper, her only reminder of what had almost been. She held it up to the window, unraveling it and gazing at it despondently. A tear fell from one of her eyes. Why were things always so unfair?
She was about to discard it, but when she gave it one last look, she stopped. She held it even closer to the window and saw that instead of the address and floor number that were written on it before, there was something else in its place. Turning on a nearby light, she let her eyes adjust before reading it again. It was a phone number. She flipped over the paper. The address from before was still there, although even harder to read from the wrinkles that now covered it. It was easy to see how she'd missed the number earlier; the writing was barely visible, even under a direct source of light.
She didn't hesitate for even a second. Squinting her eyes and praying to every deity she knew of, she picked up her cell phone and dialed the number. Her hand was trembling as she held it, listening to the seemingly endless ringing. She closed her eyes and attempted to steady her breathing.
"Hello?" A male voice answered. She gasped. The voice continued, "Who is this?"
She cleared her throat. "E-Elena, sir," she stammered. There was no doubt in her mind; she knew by his voice that she'd called Tseng. She stared at the paper in her other hand, mentally praising the memory of the redhead that now seemed stronger than ever.
"How do you know my cell phone number, Elena?" He didn't sound angry, simply confused.
"The paper...a redheaded man gave it to me on the night that-" She was cut off.
"Ah, I understand," he replied calmly. "It's a good thing he thought ahead. I never imagined he would ever do me a favor..." he trailed off. "If I would have known that your father was so opposed to my way of thinking, I would have made a greater effort to contact you otherwise. I apologize."
"But why did you want to talk to me in the first place?" She asked.
"To tell you that my coworkers and I have decided to offer you a position as part of our team. With the proper training and preliminary measures, of course." Elena eyes went wide, and she almost dropped the phone. "What?"
"Do you understand what I am saying?" Elena nodded frantically, before realizing that he couldn't see her. "Yes," she answered quickly.
"Do you need any time to consider the offer?"
"No." She didn't need to consider anything. Something was telling her that this was the change that she had been searching for.
"Are you sure?" He sounded hesitant. "This isn't the type of job that I would impose on anyone. I'm not sure how much you know about our line of work, but I can assure you that it definitely isn't meant for the frail of mind."
"I'm positive," she said without a second thought. She was beaming.
There was a pause. "I'm afraid your word isn't nearly enough. Would you be opposed to meeting me again?" He didn't trust her?
"No, not at all." She knew her voiced sounded uncertain.
"It's nothing to fear, only one of those preliminary measures I mentioned earlier," he reassured.
With that, he told her to meet him in Sector 8 the following afternoon, and gave her the name of the street that she was to find, which train she should take, and any other pertinent details before she could make any inquiries. When he finished, he asked if she had any questions. There was only one...
"What about my parents?" She asked, knowing that they wouldn't approve of her meeting with him.
He exhaled. "Just follow my instructions from before. Don't worry about what they think."
"But sir-"
"I have everything taken care of, Elena," he interrupted briskly.
"Okay," she sighed and bowed her head. "I'll see you tomorrow, sir." She hung up the phone. Glancing out the window again, she noted that the rain had stopped.
Author's Note: Ahh, this chapter's finally done!! That was exhausting to write! I don't think this was one of my favorites, either...and by the way, I apologize for making Elena seem a bit emo at the beginning of the last scene. She'll be her peppy, loose-lipped self in due time :) But let me know what you think anyway! =) Reviews are greatly appreciated!
