Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7 > What You Carry With You // What You Leave Behind
.Vagyrisk Claw/29
She rubbed her arms briskly, attempting to stave off the cool weather that seeped from the previously unnoticeable holes that peppered the weather stripping of the Seventh Heaven bar. The weather had suddenly turned cool, surprising to Tifa Lockheart as the Midgar area had been experiencing a momentary heat wave during the previous few weeks. But here it was - this strange cooling trend, accompanied by a thin marine layer inching inland, then creeping backward with the rise of the sun, a floating transparent vampire, born of vapors.
A chain of events was now in place. First the morning fog would roll in. Then in due time the rains and finally a brief period of snowstorms would grace the higher elevations. Tifa liked the winter, she had to admit. It reminded her of home, of Nibelheim, that city amidst the mountains. Nibelheim where the trees would be flocked with real snow, bright and pure even in the middle of the day. It had been rebuilt to look exactly as it had before the fires had ravaged it. Before Sephiroth. But Nibelheim was no longer home, and all Tifa had were her memories. She carried Nibelheim in her heart and it seemed to visit her every winter.
Tifa shook her head violently, snapping out of thoughtfulness that usually came with the changing weather, and ran up the creaky stairs of her bar, happy for once that her place of business was in the same building as her home. While it made things awkward on occasion - generally when she had to deal with a suspicious customer or a violent drunk, living in the two story building did have its upsides. She didn't have to travel far to and from work and as an added bonus, she didn't have to trek across the expanding city if she needed a sweater.
Returning downstairs, now clad in a red Mideelan sweater she had picked up on a short weekend getaway with Yuffie for the young ninja's eighteenth birthday, Tifa couldn't help but notice the silence. Always used to the hustle and bustle of Marlene and her orphaned friend Denzel it was strange to be without them. Barret had called just days ago, overjoyed with the prospect of another oil field being found. And since life for Barret Wallace had now become so prosperous, he had a surprise for his daughter, a way to sort of make up for being gone during his fuel-excavations. Gold Saucer. "The happiest place on the Planet." Tifa was none too surprised when Barret invited Denzel, too. He had been close to the younger Wallace since well before the Geostigma incident which had, in turn, only strengthened the bonds of friendship. Wherever one went, the other followed. Tifa had smiled when Barret arrived, leaving with the last two residents of her home. She was glad that they were allowed this one moment to be kids. Barret as well would have time to relax and play catch up.
But now Tifa was alone.
Sure, she knew that Marlene and Denzel would be coming back within a week or two. The oil fields were no place for children and Barret knew that. He had grown up and lived most of his life in the barren wasteland of the Corel mining town. He wanted better for his daughter, so Tifa had agreed long ago to take care of Marlene, no matter what happened or where Barret left to.
Sighing, Tifa grabbed the phone. Whatever loneliness she felt, she still had a job to do. The delivery service, though a small addition to her bar in terms of income, needed checking up on. While it didn't make quite as much money as the Seventh Heaven, the delivery service did bring in some big clients. Shouldering the phone, Tifa punched in the voicemail code only to hear... no new messages. She was used to this. Some days there would be no requests - none at all. Usually she relished the free time, spending it with the children or reading a good book, but today... something was nagging the back of her mind. It was almost as if she could see something out of the corner of her eye that immediately vanished when she turned toward it. Vanished like the near transparent fog that lined her window panes.
Maybe it was the isolation. Maybe it was Cloud's departure weeks earlier, shortly following his defeat of Kadaj. Maybe it really was just the change in seasons. Whatever it was, Tifa had had enough. She would contemplate this later on. For now she had to be strong. Things always turned out for the best. She had witnessed this time and time again and doubt would do nothing to help her situation.
Plastering a smile across her face, as best she could, Tifa made her way behind the mahogany bar and into the pantry. She knew from the night before that some of her stock was running low and the one thing she couldn't stand during her night shift was not having what she needed. Tifa was known so well not only for her position in Avalanche but for her superior bartending skills and she could not, would not make a Cosmo Cosmopolitan without Premium Canyon Vodka. Call her picky, call her neurotic, call her whatever you would, this was why she was such a good bartender. She knew her stuff.
Crouched down, she checked the levels of the bottles, finding that she was low on Tonberry Brand Gongoga style tequila, Schnapps, and Wild Chocobo bourbon. Tsking under her breath she went on to check the assorted beers, noting the lack of Nibelheim lager and Shiva Ice.
"I guess I won't be for lack of work today." She said to herself, pasting the smile back on her face. "That's the ticket, Tifa-girl," she thought to herself as she stretched cat-like. If she had something to do, her mind would be taken off of everything bothering her. If she kept smiling, she was bound to start to feel good. And so, list in hand, Tifa made her way to the front door.
*
The fog had rolled in that morning, creeping in from the more northern coast, down the continent. First it had hit the remaining portions of Midgar, then swept southbound until it hit the coastal (former) base-city of Junon. There it hung, grey and morose like a cadaver's sheet, cool like death. Unlike most of the other cities, here it would most likely stay. Junon had a habit of picking up the weather's funk and hanging on as long as possible. If the fog rolled it it could stay cool like this for days until the front moved elsewhere and a new one moved in. For now, however, the windows to the houses in Junon appeared slick with sticky mist.
Rufus Shinra snorted as he turned away from his office window. He hated Junon and hated its weather even more. He would have never agreed to stay here if he had the choice but Rufus had been realizing one thing everyday since Meteor : sometimes he didn't have a choice.
Case in point : his office. Actually, office was a bit of an overstatement. Since all 60+ floors of his Shinra tower had been reduced to twisted beams of metal, shattered glass, and charred wood-substitute, Rufus - or rather Tseng and Reeve had to come up with a new headquarters to the secretly still thriving company. And so, under the guise of Reeve having "inheriting" the building in the wake of the president's death, at least in the eyes of the public, Rufus had taken to his former residence - a manor on the far outskirts of Junon. Rufus had scoffed when he heard about the ruse. People were so gullible; so incredibly stupid. They never seemed to figure in the fact that he had fired Reeve after he had caught on to his traitorous endeavors. That he would rather give Reno his estate at the time than someone who had backstabbed him.
After learning that Reeve had organized the search and rescue effort, Rufus had conveniently forgotten to mention his thought on the idea.
But he was still smug about the general response. It was just as Rufus had always figured : People would listen when they wanted to listen and believe what they wanted to believe. There, in that wide-stretching compound, where Rufus had spent so many years of his life, he recovered and later contracted Geostigma to the horror of his companions.
But now, sitting in the entertaining room of his mansion, Rufus looked around with a steadily growing detachment. So much had happened. He had been mortally wounded, brought back from being nearly lost forever, then nearly died again. So many months, years, since this mansion felt like his. Now Shinra Compound just hearkened back to all that used to be; a giant tombstone to a life he once led. Even now he felt isolated in this house and he hated it. And maybe that's why he decided on this new... project of his. There was only so much of the day that was taken up by Reeve's city plans and paperwork. Rufus was still used to his life as vice president. A life that consisted of countless community functions and gala dinners -- making appearances just to spread his name and business. Oh, he didn't really enjoy theatre, but surely he would make it to every Loveless premiere. Or at least he had under his father's reign.
Rufus had never gotten a chance to discover entirely how he would handle public appearances.
Now that the entire city was in need of repair, there was less in the way of socialization to keep Rufus Shinra busy. Now it was just the job... or sitting by himself and thinking. After all, there was only so much of the Turks he could handle - especially when it came to Reno and Rude, the not-so-dynamic duo themselves. Sometimes he was surprised that they were both still alive after years of service to the company. Meanwhile, Tseng, the one constant source of reason in the group, was usually away on one mission or another. Thus the young president was left to balance budgets, plan strategies concerning what the company was to do, and sit, staring out the window.
He was doing the latter today. The fog, that translucent, marine fog had rolled in that morning, ushering in the changing of the seasons and leaving Rufus with a bitter taste in the back of his throat. It had been foggy, that day years ago when he had last slept here. Back when he was president to a major corporation; when he had slept his first night as president in fact. He remembered the inauguration and the parade that followed. It all seemed like a lifetime ago, that moment when he had taken up the reigns of his company amidst an applauding crowd, crimson banners raised in his honor. The people had followed, blindly, going from one leader to another. Did they even notice the change in regime? Or did they figure it would be more of the same? Was there any way in which he could have overdone his father's legacy?
Rufus scoffed. Of course. He was better than that man. That man who had always put him down and belittled his son who could have easily overshadowed him. And he would have done so in a heartbeat. Rufus Shinra could have done anything he wanted. He grinned smugly. So self assured, knowing what he was about to do. He was going to prove to everyone that no one could shut out Rufus Shinra. Rufus Shinra was someone unpredictable, someone to watch out for. Others had succeeded in saving the world, sure, but he would be the one to rebuild. No one was going to clean up after the mistakes of his father or the mistakes that he himself never made. He would do it. /Rufus/. He would prove himself a responsible individual and get his company back.
And it would be bigger.
And it would be better.
And it would be all because of him.
But at the same time, he smirked. There was no reason he couldn't have a little fun while he was at it. Rufus would need to schedule in some time in the coming week to have a drink over at the Seventh Heaven. Tifa Lockheart would be wanting to see him. This he was sure of.
*
Tifa Lockheart sighed in tired anguish as she rubbed the small of her back and hoisted the last oversized bottle of green olives into the cupboard. In a few short hours her bar would be opening and everything needed to be in its place. While she wasn't necessarily the most overly organized person she knew, she did take her profession seriously, especially now.
The world didn't need saving any more. This was her life and she had to do it as best she could. So while she was really in the mood for a nap after the hours she spent at the wholesale bulk market, GilMart, she knew she should get the rest of her chores done to ensure a good opening that night.
But first there was the mail.
Tifa made her way back to the alcove where the phone sat silently the entire day and opened the first letter - trash. The second - a credit card bill for which she didn't even want to see the total balance. Finally she got to an envelope that didn't entirely match the uniform standards of its predesessors. It felt almost overstuffed. The paper was of a finer grain and the letterhead...
Her eyes widened to the point where her forehead twinged in pain. Then her eyebrows snapped down in fury as she bared her teeth like a wronged bandersnatch and tore through the seal.
"R.J.Shinra Jr... You've gotta be kidding me..." she grumbled and curse under her breath. It was a folded up glossy... newsletter, the Shinra Investment Reporter to be exact and this confused her even more. She remembered this from years back. The Reporter was a newsletter sent to the shareholders of Shinra stock. But while she did understand what it was, she still didn't understand why this pamphlet sat in her hand, nor did she know what kind of game Rufus was playing this time. She opened it, gingerly, not wanting to touch something so tainted by the hand of a Shinra, the hand that once commanded armies by the snap of his fingers. There was a notice not to worry about the stocks - that they would be worth something in time, to which Tifa rolled her eyes. Rufus would be restarting that company over her cold, dead grave. Then there was a rather large section dedicated to the groundbreaking of a hospital and the building of several small affordable housing areas, sprinkled here and there. Glancing through all of the articles that were so biased for the young executive, it made her feel like she had swallowed a giant, hairy spider. Then she opened the newsletter up to the last page and out fell a certificate paper-clipped to another piece of fine-grain paper. She opened it soundlessly to find the certificate was... a proof of ownership?
"2,000 shares of Shinra stock!" She nearly screamed and dropped the paper. Why the hell would she ever want such a thing? It stood against every moral that was rooted into her being and just touching the paper made her feel dirty. Whatever amount of money that was worth, she could see the people who had died for it and above all else she could see Rufus Shinra's gloating face.
And then, just to anger herself even more, she opened to letter and took a hesitant glance at the text within. The golden Shinra letterhead and imprinted watermark glared back at her almost with the same amount of vehemence.
Miss Lockheart,
I am sure you must be surprised to see this in your mailbox, however I felt that you among most would be interested in what my company has been doing to help the people of Midgar. Perhaps we can come to some agreement in these troubled times, get beyond any differences we've had in the past, and...
"Ugh!" Tifa couldn't read on any further. With every word written by Rufus she could feel her blood pressure rising. She thought she had been done with him back at the bar but apparently this was not the case. Every word she read was another haughty laugh, another of his signature "better-than-you" style smirks.
Then her eyes caught the closer to the letter and she almost gagged on the spot.
Rufus Shinra
x o x o.
Hugs and kisses.
Hugs. And kisses.
A shudder caught in Tifa's chest and spread to her backside. She suddenly felt as if she needed a long, scalding hot shower.
*
Back at the Shinra Compound, Rufus Shinra poured himself a scotch, sat down at his old baby grand piano and began to play a somewhat jaunty tune. Maybe today was bad for him, but he could at least sleep soundly knowing that he had... touched at least one person in the course of the day.
She rubbed her arms briskly, attempting to stave off the cool weather that seeped from the previously unnoticeable holes that peppered the weather stripping of the Seventh Heaven bar. The weather had suddenly turned cool, surprising to Tifa Lockheart as the Midgar area had been experiencing a momentary heat wave during the previous few weeks. But here it was - this strange cooling trend, accompanied by a thin marine layer inching inland, then creeping backward with the rise of the sun, a floating transparent vampire, born of vapors.
A chain of events was now in place. First the morning fog would roll in. Then in due time the rains and finally a brief period of snowstorms would grace the higher elevations. Tifa liked the winter, she had to admit. It reminded her of home, of Nibelheim, that city amidst the mountains. Nibelheim where the trees would be flocked with real snow, bright and pure even in the middle of the day. It had been rebuilt to look exactly as it had before the fires had ravaged it. Before Sephiroth. But Nibelheim was no longer home, and all Tifa had were her memories. She carried Nibelheim in her heart and it seemed to visit her every winter.
Tifa shook her head violently, snapping out of thoughtfulness that usually came with the changing weather, and ran up the creaky stairs of her bar, happy for once that her place of business was in the same building as her home. While it made things awkward on occasion - generally when she had to deal with a suspicious customer or a violent drunk, living in the two story building did have its upsides. She didn't have to travel far to and from work and as an added bonus, she didn't have to trek across the expanding city if she needed a sweater.
Returning downstairs, now clad in a red Mideelan sweater she had picked up on a short weekend getaway with Yuffie for the young ninja's eighteenth birthday, Tifa couldn't help but notice the silence. Always used to the hustle and bustle of Marlene and her orphaned friend Denzel it was strange to be without them. Barret had called just days ago, overjoyed with the prospect of another oil field being found. And since life for Barret Wallace had now become so prosperous, he had a surprise for his daughter, a way to sort of make up for being gone during his fuel-excavations. Gold Saucer. "The happiest place on the Planet." Tifa was none too surprised when Barret invited Denzel, too. He had been close to the younger Wallace since well before the Geostigma incident which had, in turn, only strengthened the bonds of friendship. Wherever one went, the other followed. Tifa had smiled when Barret arrived, leaving with the last two residents of her home. She was glad that they were allowed this one moment to be kids. Barret as well would have time to relax and play catch up.
But now Tifa was alone.
Sure, she knew that Marlene and Denzel would be coming back within a week or two. The oil fields were no place for children and Barret knew that. He had grown up and lived most of his life in the barren wasteland of the Corel mining town. He wanted better for his daughter, so Tifa had agreed long ago to take care of Marlene, no matter what happened or where Barret left to.
Sighing, Tifa grabbed the phone. Whatever loneliness she felt, she still had a job to do. The delivery service, though a small addition to her bar in terms of income, needed checking up on. While it didn't make quite as much money as the Seventh Heaven, the delivery service did bring in some big clients. Shouldering the phone, Tifa punched in the voicemail code only to hear... no new messages. She was used to this. Some days there would be no requests - none at all. Usually she relished the free time, spending it with the children or reading a good book, but today... something was nagging the back of her mind. It was almost as if she could see something out of the corner of her eye that immediately vanished when she turned toward it. Vanished like the near transparent fog that lined her window panes.
Maybe it was the isolation. Maybe it was Cloud's departure weeks earlier, shortly following his defeat of Kadaj. Maybe it really was just the change in seasons. Whatever it was, Tifa had had enough. She would contemplate this later on. For now she had to be strong. Things always turned out for the best. She had witnessed this time and time again and doubt would do nothing to help her situation.
Plastering a smile across her face, as best she could, Tifa made her way behind the mahogany bar and into the pantry. She knew from the night before that some of her stock was running low and the one thing she couldn't stand during her night shift was not having what she needed. Tifa was known so well not only for her position in Avalanche but for her superior bartending skills and she could not, would not make a Cosmo Cosmopolitan without Premium Canyon Vodka. Call her picky, call her neurotic, call her whatever you would, this was why she was such a good bartender. She knew her stuff.
Crouched down, she checked the levels of the bottles, finding that she was low on Tonberry Brand Gongoga style tequila, Schnapps, and Wild Chocobo bourbon. Tsking under her breath she went on to check the assorted beers, noting the lack of Nibelheim lager and Shiva Ice.
"I guess I won't be for lack of work today." She said to herself, pasting the smile back on her face. "That's the ticket, Tifa-girl," she thought to herself as she stretched cat-like. If she had something to do, her mind would be taken off of everything bothering her. If she kept smiling, she was bound to start to feel good. And so, list in hand, Tifa made her way to the front door.
*
The fog had rolled in that morning, creeping in from the more northern coast, down the continent. First it had hit the remaining portions of Midgar, then swept southbound until it hit the coastal (former) base-city of Junon. There it hung, grey and morose like a cadaver's sheet, cool like death. Unlike most of the other cities, here it would most likely stay. Junon had a habit of picking up the weather's funk and hanging on as long as possible. If the fog rolled it it could stay cool like this for days until the front moved elsewhere and a new one moved in. For now, however, the windows to the houses in Junon appeared slick with sticky mist.
Rufus Shinra snorted as he turned away from his office window. He hated Junon and hated its weather even more. He would have never agreed to stay here if he had the choice but Rufus had been realizing one thing everyday since Meteor : sometimes he didn't have a choice.
Case in point : his office. Actually, office was a bit of an overstatement. Since all 60+ floors of his Shinra tower had been reduced to twisted beams of metal, shattered glass, and charred wood-substitute, Rufus - or rather Tseng and Reeve had to come up with a new headquarters to the secretly still thriving company. And so, under the guise of Reeve having "inheriting" the building in the wake of the president's death, at least in the eyes of the public, Rufus had taken to his former residence - a manor on the far outskirts of Junon. Rufus had scoffed when he heard about the ruse. People were so gullible; so incredibly stupid. They never seemed to figure in the fact that he had fired Reeve after he had caught on to his traitorous endeavors. That he would rather give Reno his estate at the time than someone who had backstabbed him.
After learning that Reeve had organized the search and rescue effort, Rufus had conveniently forgotten to mention his thought on the idea.
But he was still smug about the general response. It was just as Rufus had always figured : People would listen when they wanted to listen and believe what they wanted to believe. There, in that wide-stretching compound, where Rufus had spent so many years of his life, he recovered and later contracted Geostigma to the horror of his companions.
But now, sitting in the entertaining room of his mansion, Rufus looked around with a steadily growing detachment. So much had happened. He had been mortally wounded, brought back from being nearly lost forever, then nearly died again. So many months, years, since this mansion felt like his. Now Shinra Compound just hearkened back to all that used to be; a giant tombstone to a life he once led. Even now he felt isolated in this house and he hated it. And maybe that's why he decided on this new... project of his. There was only so much of the day that was taken up by Reeve's city plans and paperwork. Rufus was still used to his life as vice president. A life that consisted of countless community functions and gala dinners -- making appearances just to spread his name and business. Oh, he didn't really enjoy theatre, but surely he would make it to every Loveless premiere. Or at least he had under his father's reign.
Rufus had never gotten a chance to discover entirely how he would handle public appearances.
Now that the entire city was in need of repair, there was less in the way of socialization to keep Rufus Shinra busy. Now it was just the job... or sitting by himself and thinking. After all, there was only so much of the Turks he could handle - especially when it came to Reno and Rude, the not-so-dynamic duo themselves. Sometimes he was surprised that they were both still alive after years of service to the company. Meanwhile, Tseng, the one constant source of reason in the group, was usually away on one mission or another. Thus the young president was left to balance budgets, plan strategies concerning what the company was to do, and sit, staring out the window.
He was doing the latter today. The fog, that translucent, marine fog had rolled in that morning, ushering in the changing of the seasons and leaving Rufus with a bitter taste in the back of his throat. It had been foggy, that day years ago when he had last slept here. Back when he was president to a major corporation; when he had slept his first night as president in fact. He remembered the inauguration and the parade that followed. It all seemed like a lifetime ago, that moment when he had taken up the reigns of his company amidst an applauding crowd, crimson banners raised in his honor. The people had followed, blindly, going from one leader to another. Did they even notice the change in regime? Or did they figure it would be more of the same? Was there any way in which he could have overdone his father's legacy?
Rufus scoffed. Of course. He was better than that man. That man who had always put him down and belittled his son who could have easily overshadowed him. And he would have done so in a heartbeat. Rufus Shinra could have done anything he wanted. He grinned smugly. So self assured, knowing what he was about to do. He was going to prove to everyone that no one could shut out Rufus Shinra. Rufus Shinra was someone unpredictable, someone to watch out for. Others had succeeded in saving the world, sure, but he would be the one to rebuild. No one was going to clean up after the mistakes of his father or the mistakes that he himself never made. He would do it. /Rufus/. He would prove himself a responsible individual and get his company back.
And it would be bigger.
And it would be better.
And it would be all because of him.
But at the same time, he smirked. There was no reason he couldn't have a little fun while he was at it. Rufus would need to schedule in some time in the coming week to have a drink over at the Seventh Heaven. Tifa Lockheart would be wanting to see him. This he was sure of.
*
Tifa Lockheart sighed in tired anguish as she rubbed the small of her back and hoisted the last oversized bottle of green olives into the cupboard. In a few short hours her bar would be opening and everything needed to be in its place. While she wasn't necessarily the most overly organized person she knew, she did take her profession seriously, especially now.
The world didn't need saving any more. This was her life and she had to do it as best she could. So while she was really in the mood for a nap after the hours she spent at the wholesale bulk market, GilMart, she knew she should get the rest of her chores done to ensure a good opening that night.
But first there was the mail.
Tifa made her way back to the alcove where the phone sat silently the entire day and opened the first letter - trash. The second - a credit card bill for which she didn't even want to see the total balance. Finally she got to an envelope that didn't entirely match the uniform standards of its predesessors. It felt almost overstuffed. The paper was of a finer grain and the letterhead...
Her eyes widened to the point where her forehead twinged in pain. Then her eyebrows snapped down in fury as she bared her teeth like a wronged bandersnatch and tore through the seal.
"R.J.Shinra Jr... You've gotta be kidding me..." she grumbled and curse under her breath. It was a folded up glossy... newsletter, the Shinra Investment Reporter to be exact and this confused her even more. She remembered this from years back. The Reporter was a newsletter sent to the shareholders of Shinra stock. But while she did understand what it was, she still didn't understand why this pamphlet sat in her hand, nor did she know what kind of game Rufus was playing this time. She opened it, gingerly, not wanting to touch something so tainted by the hand of a Shinra, the hand that once commanded armies by the snap of his fingers. There was a notice not to worry about the stocks - that they would be worth something in time, to which Tifa rolled her eyes. Rufus would be restarting that company over her cold, dead grave. Then there was a rather large section dedicated to the groundbreaking of a hospital and the building of several small affordable housing areas, sprinkled here and there. Glancing through all of the articles that were so biased for the young executive, it made her feel like she had swallowed a giant, hairy spider. Then she opened the newsletter up to the last page and out fell a certificate paper-clipped to another piece of fine-grain paper. She opened it soundlessly to find the certificate was... a proof of ownership?
"2,000 shares of Shinra stock!" She nearly screamed and dropped the paper. Why the hell would she ever want such a thing? It stood against every moral that was rooted into her being and just touching the paper made her feel dirty. Whatever amount of money that was worth, she could see the people who had died for it and above all else she could see Rufus Shinra's gloating face.
And then, just to anger herself even more, she opened to letter and took a hesitant glance at the text within. The golden Shinra letterhead and imprinted watermark glared back at her almost with the same amount of vehemence.
Miss Lockheart,
I am sure you must be surprised to see this in your mailbox, however I felt that you among most would be interested in what my company has been doing to help the people of Midgar. Perhaps we can come to some agreement in these troubled times, get beyond any differences we've had in the past, and...
"Ugh!" Tifa couldn't read on any further. With every word written by Rufus she could feel her blood pressure rising. She thought she had been done with him back at the bar but apparently this was not the case. Every word she read was another haughty laugh, another of his signature "better-than-you" style smirks.
Then her eyes caught the closer to the letter and she almost gagged on the spot.
Rufus Shinra
x o x o.
Hugs and kisses.
Hugs. And kisses.
A shudder caught in Tifa's chest and spread to her backside. She suddenly felt as if she needed a long, scalding hot shower.
*
Back at the Shinra Compound, Rufus Shinra poured himself a scotch, sat down at his old baby grand piano and began to play a somewhat jaunty tune. Maybe today was bad for him, but he could at least sleep soundly knowing that he had... touched at least one person in the course of the day.
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