Chapter Text
The situation in the conference room had escalated to such a point between President Shinra and his son that the former was now as red as his company’s logo, waving his arms while shouting and ranting at Rufus; who, unlike his father, wore a completely unperturbed expression and appeared entirely unaffected by the old man’s outburst.
Both were sticking to their positions, and neither wanted to let the other gain ground regarding their opinion on the solution to be found in order to resolve the current case.
Reeve sighed. Around the table, the other Executive Directors also watched the scene unfold, each in their own way.
Scarlet seemed fascinated, mentally keeping score as if weighing whether backing the father or the son would yield the greatest long-term benefit. Hojo wasn't listening to a word being said, preferring to scribble complex diagrams in his notebook; likely rough sketches for some new, morally questionable experiments.
Palmer drank his tea rather calmly for once, only occasionally hiccupping in his seat. As for Heidegger, the President's right-hand man, he naturally stood by his leader; yet even he apparently knew when to hold his tongue while the head of the company was in such a fit of rage.
Then there was Tseng, silent and motionless beside the heir to the Shinra mako industrial empire, never once taking his eyes off him or even blinking.
Along with Rufus, he was among the youngest executives present in the room, and even among the youngest employees ever to be promoted to director in the entire history of the Company.
He had only recently joined the circle of strategic planners, yet he seemed to belong there naturally, as if he had always held a seat at the table.
Reeve studied him for a moment. He knew the circumstances under which his predecessor at the head of Shinra’s Administrative Research had left his post, and how Tseng had managed, at the last possible moment, to save both his own skin and that of his colleagues during the crisis that had recently shaken the Turks to their core.
Yet, despite the immense pressure weighing on his shoulders —and much like the Vice President— Tseng wore a completely emotionless expression.
For as long as he had known him, Reeve had always admired his unwavering composure; nothing and no one ever seemed capable of shaking his cool. "Not even his devotion to the Company." Reeve added to himself.
But the Director of Urban Planning also wondered where Tseng’s true allegiance ultimately lay. Was it with Rufus, with whom Reeve suspected the young man had struck a secret deal to preserve his department's integrity? Or with the President, who could have him executed with a single order on a whim? Or perhaps Tseng had been loyal only to himself since Veld’s sudden 'resignation' or had always been so since his integration into Shinra.
The President slammed his fist onto the table so hard that every head, even the least attentive ones including Reeve’s, turned toward the man at the head of the table. He was still fuming just as much, so much so that it wouldn't have been surprising to see smoke coming out of his ears.
To his left, Rufus slowly closed the lid of his laptop, clasped his hands beneath his chin, and spoke in a calm but icy voice. "Father, I believe I've covered everything. There is no need to prolong this meeting. For my part, at least, I am taking my leave; I shall let you get back to me once you have regained your wits and your common sense."
With that, the young man unhurriedly gathered the documents scattered before him and rose to leave the room with his characteristic dignity and resolve, without sparing a single glance for the other members of the Board of Directors.
His departure was followed by a heavy silence in the room. The President ran a hand over his forehead. Scarlet let out a low whistle as she sank back into her chair. "Enough! The session is over, everyone leaves!" shouted the President. They all complied without flinching, or commenting further on what had just happened.
If Reeve were honest with himself, he couldn't help but admire the stoicism Rufus displayed when facing a father who never went easy on him, and the way he had once again proven to everyone that he possessed the strength and maturity to take over whenever his father handed him the reins of the family business. That is, if it ever came to that; their arguments were becoming increasingly frequent, and their relationship was deteriorating by the day.
Rufus had never led the easy life most Midgar residents imagined, a fact Reeve was keenly aware of. Having known the Shinra heir since his early childhood, Reeve had watched him grow from a little boy seeking tirelessly his father's approval into a rebellious young man determined to outperform his progenitor once he took the helm. Deep down, Rufus was still driven by the same need to prove himself and carve out his own place among the sharks infesting the murky waters of Midgar.
Reeve was finishing gathering his things alongside Tseng, who, still as silent as a grave, was doing the same. Just as they were about to step through the doorway and part ways, Reeve noticed that the Director of the Department of Administrative Research wasn't taking the elevator down to the lower levels as he should have; and instead, was in fact heading in the same direction Rufus had gone earlier.
It was curious, to say the least. Was he going to debrief with him about the day's meeting? Did Rufus need his advice on something? Were they in league regarding some upcoming scheme? Reeve’s instinct told him to follow Tseng, but realizing quickly he lacked the stealth of a Turk agent, he thought better of it.
Back at his office, however, Reeve couldn't shake the thought that something might be going on, and that Rufus might be the instigator of a plot against his own father. Reeve knew Rufus well, he even liked him; and he didn't want the young man to get it into his head to stage a coup against the President that might backfire on him, the Company, and, by extension, the people of Midgar.
Reeve absent-mindedly twirled a pen between his fingers, pondering his next move. He needed to know, at the very least, whether Tseng had indeed gone to meet the young heir earlier, or if he had simply imagined it.
Curiosity eventually got the better of him, and Reeve logged into the Shinra Tower security camera network. He cycled through the feeds, located his man, and tracked him down the corridors until he reached an area leading to a service staircase that the network did not cover.
If he recalled correctly, the stairs opened onto a private balcony on the 63rd floor. The 63rd floor! That was where Rufus Shinra’s office was located. His hunch might have been right after all. But how could he find out what was happening there when the camera coverage stopped right at that point?
Suddenly, Reeve had an idea. He recalled leaving a prototype of one of his Cait Sith model robots in the labyrinth of the ventilation duct system, specifically to spy on the top presidential floor.
Reeve hurriedly connected to it and expertly moved the machine to the right spot. Bingo. He found a vent opening onto Rufus’ private balcony, giving Cait Sith a clear view of the man himself, who was slumped against the railing, his platinum-blonde hair fluttering in the high-altitude wind.
And, as Reeve activated the video and audio recording functions, Tseng appeared within the robot-cat’s field of vision. He was walking briskly toward Rufus. "Is everything alright, sir?" he asked, his expression still unreadable, yet with a faint trace of irony in his voice.
Rufus turned around but, to Reeve's surprise, did not startle. It certainly wasn't the first time Tseng had quietly crept up behind him. The heir stretched, then leaned back nonchalantly, arms spread against the railing separating him from the void.
"Oh, please, Tseng—not now. I am not, really, really not, in the mood to play that game right now."
The other approached gently, this time sketching a small, rueful smile that Reeve had never seen on him before. "I'm sorry, Rufus. How are you feeling?"
'Rufus'?! Reeve nearly choked when he heard the Turk address the Vice President by his first name. Granted, the two had known each other for a long time, and Tseng often acted as Rufus' bodyguard, but still... It was highly informal, and Tseng was the last person Reeve could imagine intentionally breaking protocol.
"What do you think? I feel like I lose a little more of my life expectancy every time I speak with him."
Tseng stepped a little closer to Rufus.
"He was awful to you, that's true."
"When isn't he? Besides, he really loves putting on a show."
Tseng sighed. He rested his hands on the railing beside Rufus, looking out at the city below.
"But you have to admit, you’ve been goading him from the very start."
"Don't tell me you're starting in on me too? I was hoping you would come and find me, but not to lecture me."
"I'm just being honest with you. You came there looking for a fight, didn't you?"
"Tseng..."
"So, you got what you wanted. Why did you do it? You really ought to stop provoking him."
"Tseng, seriously..."
"You're playing a dangerous game, and I don't like seeing you put yourself in danger like this..."
"Tseng."
Without warning, Rufus grabbed Tseng by the shoulders, turned him around, and pressed his lips against the other man's. He kissed him full on the mouth, for what seemed far too long to Reeve. He was holding his breath as if he were right there on the balcony with them, rather than out of sight in his own office.
When he ran out of breath, Rufus pulled away, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, leaving Tseng completely bewildered by his gesture.
"Rufus! Did you actually kiss me just to shut me up?!"
"Absolutely. Firstly, because I really wanted to, and secondly, because this technique always seems to work when you use it on me."
Tseng didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, he simply wrapped an arm around Rufus' waist, pulling the Vice President close.
Reeve didn't really know what to do next. It was now obvious that the two of them were in league together, but he never would have imagined... this. He couldn't quite believe it.
Rufus and Tseng weren't just friends or co-conspirators; they were (also?) lovers. Reeve felt all the more uncomfortable watching them now; having just discovered their biggest secret while trying to uncover a completely different one.
"I'm only worried about you." Tseng added after a moment.
He punctuated his sentence with a light kiss on Rufus’s temple. Rufus looked at him and smiled, gently and sincerely. Yet another highly unusual expression that Reeve would never have expected to see on that particular person.
"I know. You always do."
"Obviously. Because you don't do it for yourself!"
"My Guardian Angel."
And Rufus kissed Tseng again, this time much more tenderly.
"It's dangerous to do that here, Rufus." Tseng murmured, though he made no move to pull away.
"We live dangerous lives." Rufus retorted.
Reeve cut the connection with Cait Sith. He had seen and heard enough. He wasn't exactly a voyeur; Rufus and Tseng were entitled to their privacy, just like anyone else.
But Tseng was right on one point: Rufus was playing a dangerous game, and their affair was even riskier. Reeve didn't want to think about what would happen if the President found out about it.
The Director of Urban Planning stood up, erased the recent memory from his spy robot, then headed to the bathroom to take an aspirin.
The next time he found himself in the same meeting room as Rufus and Tseng, he would have to make an effort to maintain a neutral demeanour that wouldn't betray what he now knew about them.