Hidden Teardrops

The ocean stretched out for miles, the surface glistening in the late evening sun which was beginning to dip below the horizon. It was beautiful. The blue and purple water was streaked with varying shades of red and pink. The people of Junon loved this view. They never seemed to tire of it

Rufus had seen everyday for the past month, and he was sick to death of it. But maybe it was because he didn’t have another choice, it was the only view the infirmary window had to offer.

The infirmary. He’d been stuck in there for well over a month. He half suspected they were going to leave him there. They may as well of left him in his office.

Rufus had been pulled out of the wreckage that was the top of the Shinra building a mere few hours before meteor had hit. While his executives had been busy dithering over Avalanche, his secretary and a couple of lab tech’s had managed to dig him out of his office. They’d managed to get him to Junon in time to save him. He’d been disturbed to realise that Scarlet and Heiddegar had assumed him dead. They hadn’t even bother to look for him.

Rufus slammed his fist down on the window sill and cursed under his breath. They were dead now, not that they had ever been any use anyway. Avalanche had killed them both, destroying a very expensive piece of artillery in the process.

Avalanche

They were deadly enemies. It had been a waste of time fighting them

‘But then again’ thought Rufus ‘Shinra was pretty much a waste of time as well’

Rufus reflected grimly on what he had made of himself over the past four years. He was a mere twenty two years old, and he had lost everything. The Shinra’s vast fortunes had dissolved during the meteor crisis and he had never had family to fall back on.

Lack of family was what had made Rufus Shinra. He had nothing. No mother or siblings, and a father who’s pride wasn’t worth the effort of gaining. Wealth was the only thing fate had been kind enough to put within his grasp. It was the only dream he had ever been able to have.

He had gained that dream, and he had done it on his own. He had worked so hard to prove to his sceptical father that he was capable of being vice-president, yet his own parent still refused to trust in him. Everything he had done, he had done alone. People thought he was self-centred and uncaring. And he was. He had never had anyone else to care about, and no one else seemed to care about him. If they didn’t care about him, what difference did it make how they saw him.

He knew what people thought of him and, although he tried to deny it to himself, it bothered him

‘I heard no one’s ever seen him bleed or cry.’

Rufus reflected on those words, spoken by the young flower girl.

Maybe no one had seen him cry, but he had. He had wept until his eyes were raw. He had cried until he half believed he would never cry again. But he had kept his tears hidden. Out of fear for his father’s scorn, for showing emotion, for appearing weak. He had shut the world around him out and locked himself in. He was no stranger to overwhelming emotion, but afraid of it enough to make sure nothing would ever make him feel that way. It was a battle, and one he was losing.

But he didn’t care anymore. He was nothing, and that was all people would think of him from now on. He had lost the power and wealth, and in reality that wasn’t much, but it was all he had ever had. Everything was gone.

With a deep sigh, Rufus finally gave up fighting, and down one cheek rolled a small stream of hidden teardrops.