ex post facto ( ffvii ; rufus )
Title: Ex Post Facto
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Notes: Post-game, pre-Advent Children. Mostly Rufus gen: what happens after the world goes to hell. (But not complete without a little Tseng/Rufus on the side.) No warnings, save spoilers.
The city of Midgar lies in ruins. The last empire on the planet is reduced to a broken upper plate and the slums below. Crumbling reactors stand like the remaining parapets of a castle lost under siege, and the great ShinRa Building, pinnacle of it all, lies torn in half at its center. A quarter of the city is dead, another half evacuated. Thoughts of rebuilding have yet to form in the minds of those who remain. The entire world has been disrupted by the destruction Meteor wreaked.
A hundred miles away in not-so-distant Junon, the dethroned emperor finds solitude in exile. He has fevered dreams of regaining what was lost, and nightmares equally of the same. Rufus Shinra is a myth and a legend now, believed dead by most, and he finds he prefers it that way. He escaped his fiery encounter with death by a hair’s breadth; it seems a fool’s gamble to test fate again. But then, he always has considered himself something of a fool.
The place is a modest relic by the once-boy Shinra’s standards, and indeed far from the high rises he has been accustomed to. Some of his most miserable years were spent here, in military academy, and on the weekends when Tseng would slip away from Midgar, they became some of the fondest memories in recall. He thinks if he must live now, he would rather do it alone. He can’t quite decide if it was mercy or punishment to have been saved.
There is a pleasant anonymity to his new life, and a sort of discovery to mundane tasks he’s never had to do before. The lady at the corner market treats the young man with a bandage over half his face with a strange kind of sympathy. She asks if he’s a refugee from Midgar and gives Rufus his produce at half-price. He is uncertain whether to be touched or disgusted by this act of kindness. When he can settle on neither, he sets to work on figuring out how to best use it to his advantage.
When one day a knock sounds at his door while he’s catching up on his reading-plenty of time to do that, now-Rufus suspiciously stares, for a moment, and wonders if he’s hallucinating. It happens again, this time with an indistinct vocal query on the other side. He gets the pistol Tseng left in the nightstand years-it could have been ages-ago and when he swings open the door, aims it straight into his would-be visitor’s face.
He is met by raised hands and a nervous voice: “Watch where you point that thing, yo.”
He thinks he might collapse at the shock of red hair and the taller shadow looming behind, but then instinct kicks in and he remembers he is Rufus Shinra and Rufus Shinra does not show weakness, not even a hand trembling on a doorknob or the touch unsteady enough to take three tries at securing the safety on the gun.
They share their respective stories as some of the shock begins to wear away-a tale of an underground escape, and, “We heard you got blown up,” but in the end it seems that rumors of his death have, indeed, been greatly exaggerated.
Rufus warily allows them into his life-as-it-is, and for their part Reno and Rude try their best not to intrude, save on his desire to be alone. Tragedy is not befitting of Rufus Shinra, he supposes, because even for a man recently dead there is that time of picking up the pieces and moving on with one’s life.
He has hoped for, allowed himself to imagine on a few occasions, what life might now be like if Tseng were alive as well, but nothing prepares him for the call from Avalanche and the familiar voice across a shaky PHS signal.
That Tseng is alive is something Rufus continues to doubt until the man himself walks through the doorway and they both stand there, awkward, frozen, staring at each other as if afraid of looking at a ghost. Then Rufus grabs the lapels of Tseng’s dark suit-no longer navy but mourning black-and pulls him to the floor where all words are lost in a tangle of limbs.
He knows that things cannot go back to the way they were, but little by little Rufus begins to realize that he cannot be satisfied by this, by merely living as the so-called normal people do. The world will never accept ShinRa again, he thinks at first, but they will still need power, resources, things that there are no other companies readily able or prepared to provide. ShinRa held the monopoly on power in the past-alternative research to mako was quickly bought out and filed away to collect dust.
The world as it is now looks toward Avalanche for example, without realizing that its terrorists-turned-heroes are only people who have lives of their own to lead. Wallace, Strife, Lockhart ... they all wanted to see ShinRa fall, no consequences taken into account. Now the population clamors for support; the planet will gradually fall into a dark age without the ability to sustain civilization.
If there is one man who’s always been interested in dead ends, it’s Reeve Tuesti. Rufus gambles a great deal and faces the suspicion of his former Head of Urban Development, who seems less shocked than the rest of the world may be that the President is alive. There’s just a grin that may be a little secretive, and a lighthearted, “I knew you were too stubborn to let a little thing like Weapon get in your way.”
Rufus tells Reeve that ShinRa owes a debt to the world and realizes in saying that he believes it to be true. There’s no gain, no greed, no ruling through fear-no deceptions to be had now, but his intentions are met with varied reaction. Reno is relieved at the promise of a steady paycheck again, and Rude as usual does not say much at all, just accepts the news with a sort of purpose. Elena offers her services with the full enthusiasm of her rookie days, strangely heartening. And then there comes ... Tseng.
Asked to describe the man’s role in his life, Rufus would be hard-pressed to find a single term: friend, mentor, lover, Turk. Things between them are different now, he knows that much, with the same certainty that he knows he cannot take this step toward the future without Tseng.
“I want to rebuild,” Rufus tells him, and when he does, he feels like a boy again: at his first meeting with the Turk, and painfully conscious of his own pride. Tseng does not respond, and as the silence draws out, Rufus explains, “I don’t know how to live like everyone else.”
Tseng walks toward Rufus and rests his hands on white-clad shoulders. “Not every man was made to live a normal life.”
“I feel useless without it, Tseng ... without ShinRa.” It is all he was ever made to do, and in the aftermath of its destruction, then he must be charged with bringing it back to life.
“Then, I will follow you along every step of the way ... Mr. President.”
Rufus closes his eyes and feels the weight of the title, like the power given a name when spoken. He has a sense of purpose and a goal to strive for now, the proverbial phoenix if ever there was one, struggling out of the ashes and preparing to fly too close to the sun once more-the emperor, the prince of the glass tower, restored.
fin