Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Predetermined ❯ Day 2 ( Chapter 2 )

 

The second day of writing in this damn thing and I haven't even gotten around to burning it yet, oh my. What can I say, I've been busy attending other things. I don't plan on writing in this thing any chance I get; more like when it's convenient for me. I know it has been weeks, if I remember correctly, but that is irrelevant. So what has kept me busy? Aside from the normal daily duties of paperwork, short missions, more paper work, meetings, counseling, more paper work, keeping up with Rufus, keeping up with the other Turks, more paper work, and the rest of my life, there has been no time to keep my journal. I took Rufus out to buy a new suit, I filed the findings of the other grunts' missions, I saw to the order of machinery for improving Midgar's reactors. I've been mumbling triplicates in my sleep. Sleep—what a joke.

 

I bailed Reno's sorry ass when he got into a bar fight….again. Only <I>after</I> he'd taken a couple good punches though. I'm still rusty on my karate, but when you practice ninjutsu and tai chi in whatever spare time you have then you don't get much time to practice karate.

 

 

<b><I>Later</I></b>

 

 

I can hardly believe what happened; but then again it's not that far out of the ordinary. I was busy at a meeting, presenting the topic of why we shouldn't extend a hand toward harvesting materia for Wutai when I hear a shout for help. I decide to ignore it until the word is combined with Rufus' name. “Help….. Rufus!” Paling on the inside and cringing at what may have happened this time, I politely excuse myself from the shiny cherry wood table of other representatives and find Rude alert on the hallway. He had been keeping security outside the meeting but now he was dragging me by the arm to the end of the painfully bland hall and down the many flights of stairs. Rufus had fallen down a flight of stairs and somehow managed to hit another flight on his tumble down. Checking the blonde headed nazi boy over he was merely bruised and scraped but otherwise all right. Half unconscious from his fall he mumbled and moaned.

 

“My beautiful body! I'm hurt! I'm dying!” he moaned as he writhed on the floor. I picked him up like a mother would a small child bearing him to her breast, and with a nod to my companion, ran off for the hospital room for a double check. Why must we only use materia when on missions? Oh yes, because Reno might let loose the Chocobo Summon's chocobo and go on a drunken rampage all over the building—again. The lady at the hospital wing only shook her head and sighed, rolling her eyes once she noticed it was Rufus. At least he didn't get hurt as often as he did when he was much smaller, but nonetheless, he needed to learn more proper and sophisticated manners. He would tame his wily side soon enough. I lay him limply on the bed. He opened his eyes and scowled at me as the nurse pawed through her apron pocket for a Cura materia.

 

Oddly he stared at me forlornly as the nurse healed him. He seemed to be considering something but I only returned his gaze with a firm, steady inscrutable look. The nurse double-checked to make sure no bones were broken, fractured or out of place and then turned him loose. I opened my mouth to ask for a hospital policy form for Rufus' injuries but the nurse just shook her head.

 

“Don't worry about it,” she said with a small, tired smile. “We see him all the time.” I nodded and thanked her, leaving before Rufus could get too far. Rude had his arms crossed, waiting in the hospital door while Rufus stomped his foot and ordered passage.

 

“Come on then, let's go,” I said, taking Rufus by the arm and leading him out. He jerked away from me once we were in the hall.

 

“Some bodyguard you are,” he sneered, rubbing his arms. He still had a bruise or two, but his ego was certainly undamaged. “You can't even cure me! What kind of bodyguard that can't protect me can't even heal me at the least! Honestly!”

 

He shoved his way past Rude with a scoff and muttered.

 

“Stupid Turks. Wait until my father hears about this,” I caught before his voice became inaudible.

 

“If only he wasn't as smart as his father,” Rude sighed, pushing his sunglasses up. I would never understand why this man wore sunglasses in a building, but I didn't ask.

 

“Yes. Or smarter.” I nodded in agreement, hands behind my back. Closing my eyes I tried to avoid an oncoming headache but it was inevitable. Rude put a hand on my shoulder.

 

“The meeting.” I nodded and we walked back into the meeting and, although I couldn't pick up where I left off because the meeting was nearly at its end, I was called by Hojo over the intercom to report to him. Biting back my tongue and shuddering at the thought of having to meet that horrible man with his grotesque experiments I attempted to run through a mental schedule of what else I had to do. I was expected in my office to finish up the paper work that would never leave my in-tray.

 

Then again, I loathed paper work just as much. Without verbal complaint, I marched into Hojo's lab and stood straight backed, feet together—not at attention to my superior but merely because I had good posture. He was at his beakers and flasks in a less than pristine steel-based room, fluorescent bulbs, some bare, some shading, some flickering, some shining brightly. He was muttering to himself, clinking glass against glass, shuffling through papers, and wringing his hands. Finally, he noticed me.

 

“Ah! Tseng, good to see you come here so promptly,” he said. “Very good. I'm pleased.” He shuffled around an operating table, stained with iodine, and stood before me, slightly hunched. “Such a young boy.” He looked me up and down, an indefinable emotion glazing his eyes. Inwardly, I shivered and recoiled at this look, but I remained stolid, merely surveying the scientist until he next spoke.

 

“I was wondering…..how often do you write in that journal I've asked you to keep? Elena has been elated to tell me she does nearly as often as she can.” Hojo chuckled. “Such a sweet girl. So honest. She has much to say. But I wonder…..What about you?”

 

He was looking at me expectantly. My mind was blank for a second before I thought. I hadn't written in this damn book for weeks! In fact, I had completely forgotten about it.

 

“Only once sir,” I said in an monotonous tone.

 

“Really? Hmmm.” He seemed to ponder.

 

“All right. But I beg you please write as often as you can. Everything you remember. Every emotion you feel. Everything you say. Every reaction. Please record them.” I wanted to ask why, but it wasn't my place, and even had I, the loony old fellow had turned his back and was back at his work.

 

“Sir?” I asked, but without even looking he waved me off with his hand.

 

So here I sit, tired and disgusted with the past events. Am I ever not? I'm writing in a book I will burn instead of doing my paper work, and in another hour's time I will have a short `lunch' break—as if lunch is served at three in the afternoon—and then off to accompany Rufus until evening. Then I will head back to President ShinRa's office to discuss political matters with him. Eventually I will either get home or fall asleep on this paper work that will never get done. I need stronger tea.

 

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