Sephiroth was on a tight leash. It would never slip, never falter- he was to be kept well groomed, well mannered and most importantly, on schedule. When President Shinra turned his cruel, sallow face towards him and informed him that for the time being he was to go on an extended mission he wasnât surprised.
He only asked for how long he was to remain stationed in Junon.
The command still rang heavily in his ears- was he being discarded? Fired? Was this the chance at freedom he so desperately desired? The chance to retire away and live in isolation, to die in obscurity? To be sent out of Midgar so suddenly was unheard of in his twenty-one years of life.Â
It meant he no longer had to sleep in his cold room in the lab, where the bed felt like cardboard and the sheets would tear if pulled too taut. Maybe- maybe Sephiroth could experience the open sky without fear that it would be filled with smoke and missiles.Â
That hope was quickly and suddenly dashed against the rocks of his mind. He was very quickly escorted to his new place of living by a frazzled bald man in a suit; a Turk.
Bad sign, very bad sign. It put him on edge but did not push him into full defense mode yet.
The manor he arrived at was an opulent one, crafted beautifully and with more care than half of the other buildings in Junon. Maybe it was the Shinra way to put the poor beneath you. Sephiroth bit back a grimace as he was escorted inside, paying no mind to the marble flooring and sleek tall walls, even as he was escorted into the office of one Rufus Shinra.
The Vice President still had his petulant expression scrawled all over his face, as if the world owed him some grand favor. Sephiroth simply bowed in response, dropping his head and placing his hand over his heart in salute. âVice President Shinra, I am stationed here starting indefinitely.â
Of course that was what this was. He was supposed to be a babysitter to a man who couldnât be well enough trusted not to have his father killed. Of course that was a company secret now, but still. The grounding didnât look good on the VPâs record- it would lead to suspicion and question. It only made sense that Sephiroth was meant to make things look better.
âI am at your command, sir. If there is anything you need I will provide within reason.â
Being told that he could give orders freely (within reason) was nothing new. What was new, and oh so entertaining, was the fact that Sephiroth had been sent her indefinitely. Sephiroth, here to bother with the cast-off, for no real reason, indefinitely. Well, it was probably to make sure that Rufus behaved, but still, he couldnât help the way his expression changed. His lips curled up, slowly but distinctly into a smile - and then his voice rose up. It was a laugh - a real laugh, a genuine laugh - not one born from his reaction to pain (emotional or physical), but from general amusement.Â
âHaha, indefinitely! All the way out here! What did you do to make them so angry! Youâre their favorite SOLDIER! Oh, please, please tell me that you threw something in Hojoâs face, or spilled hot coffee down my fatherâs suit jacket!â He lifted his face again, one more peal of laughter before he was able to reign it in; get himself back in control. âOr am I that much of a burden to my father that he was willing to give you up? This is almost...no, it has to be the funniest thing Iâve ever heard.â He cleared his throat, swept his hair back into its proper place - granted, there were a few stray pieces still flying away, touching down by his eyes to half-cover them.
âIâm very sorry, though. This must feel like a slap to the cheek.â With his outburst reigned in, back to being controlled, he let his expression settle back to its normal. But when he apologized to Sephiroth, he did mean it. He was someone important, someone that the entirety of Midgar held dear as an icon. And thanks to Rufusâ unfortunate little mishap in his assassination, now he, too, was being drawn into this pathetic exile. âIâve made a determination now, then. I wonât cause further trouble to you - and Iâll be certain to give you better company than youâve been receiving in Midgar. Anyway, this headquarters has plenty of room for you to do...whatever you would like. For starters, would you like to pick out a bedroom for yourself?âÂ
Rufus shifted, then stood up. He walked towards the SOLDIER, getting closer to him than he had ever been before - in the past, it had been nothing but fleeting glances in his direction, a stare from afar as he wondered what, exactly, the Silver General was like. Always an admiring stare - like so many others, captivated by his beauty and nearly divine grace. This close, he was just as stunning - and he smelled like lilies. It was the shampoo, the ones that Shinra gave him - but Rufus never knew that it was lilies.Â
His favorite flower. His motherâs favorite flower. The one that she always wore on her blouse, or wove into her hair. The one that he still had pressed, dried, into a scrapbook that she had worked on with him before her death. He had to fight back a wave of emotion - an emotion he wasnât fully certain what was, if it was sorrow or joy or nostalgia.
âYou did bring a bag, right? Or...do you only wear the one thing? We could always get you something else. Something more fit for time in a casual life. There really isnât much to do here, besides badmouth my father and learn a handful of life skills that Iâve never had the chance to pick up on. And, by the way, I donât care if youâre to report what I say. The man knows I despise him, so nothing should come as a surprise to him.âÂ