if it was gonna kill you boy, it would have by now

Which involves him standing around in a pitch black lounge waiting for Cloud to show up so he can murmur a soft little "surprise." at him.

Tseng called all the suspects but everyone protest about Reeve being here.

Because no, he can't have killed Hojo Tseng, I mean look at him, he smile to his co-workers, gives them cookies and he's making cat plushies?

Him a murderer?

(Plot Twist: Caith Sith is the culprit)

*A briefing room is packed to maximum capacity as a crowd of employees from various departments are squeezed inside*

Tseng: I’m sure you’re all aware why I’ve called you here. Professor Hojo was found dead at the bottom of the 20th floor stairwell at 0600 hours this morning. The examiner’s report points directly to foul play. You are all the prime suspects, and I know for a fact that one of you here pushed him.

Sephiroth, raising his hand: Why am I here? I haven’t spoken to Hojo in forty eight hours.

Tseng, reading a document: Sephiroth, it says here that within the last forty eight hours, you were overheard recounting to multiple people how, quote: “my ultimate dream is to play the cello at his funeral”

Sephiroth: Oh, right. It turns out I can’t acquire a cello on such short notice

Tseng: My god.

Reno: Hey, wait a minute! What about me? And Rude? And Cissnei? And all these random suits from every single department? And—hey! *pointing toward the back row* That’s Aerith in a fake mustache!

Aerith: No I’m Bob from HR.

Tseng: That’s Bob from HR, Reno, let it go.

Reno: !?

Tseng: Every individual in this room represents someone who’s been made intensely uncomfortable in Hojo’s presence to the point where they would actively seek revenge.

Sephiroth: Alright. Myself I understand, Hollander I understand, and certainly the Turks. But why poor Director Reeve? Doesn’t the man deal with enough around here?

Reno: Yeah, good point! Leave Reeve out of this, he’s innocent! He wouldn’t hurt a fly!

*A collective murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd of suspects*

Reeve: I confess, I don’t understand why I’m here either, but I would be more than happy to cooperate with the investigation.

Tseng: Reeve. Reeve. Just last night in the executive lounge, you told me, quote: “Ah’ll rip that greasy old bastard’s spine clean out through his throat if he interferes with my projects again, so help me God!”

Reeve: That wasn’t me! That was Cait Sith!

Tseng: The mechanical cat was completely powered off, and you were holding it like a ventriloquist doll.

Reeve: Still! That’s a separate entity! I have absolutely no control over what the robot feels in its mechanical heart!

Tseng: Right. Well, in my possession, I have a flash drive containing the high-def security feed from the 20th floor this morning. All I need to do is plug it in, and the truth will be revealed.

Reeve: Well, go ahead! Let’s see it! We have nothing to hide!

*Tseng boots up the projector screen. The grainy security footage flickers on. Hojo is seen casually walking toward the stairs. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a giant plush moogle sprints into the frame, and the tiny cat riding it executes a flawless, mid air roundhouse kick directly into Hojo’s lower back, sending him flying down the flight of stairs*

Tseng: SEE?

Reeve: But that wasn’t me! That was Cait! Oh, bad cat! Terrible, autonomous machine! You can’t just assassinate the head of the Science Department!

Tseng: Reeve, I genuinely respect you as a colleague, so I’m going to give you exactly thirty seconds to confess and legally attribute this to a robotic malfunction.

Reeve: It must’ve been! All I know is that early this morning, Cait Sith was talking to Sephiroth, who was detailing a deeply horrifying experiment he endured at Hojo’s hands and expressing a wish that a brave, heroic entity would sneak into the labs and end the professor’s life to free him!

Tseng: Sephiroth. So you were an accomplice and the direct catalyst for the murder.

Sephiroth: No. This morning, I wasn’t myself. I was temporarily possessed by the ancient, primordial entity that speaks to me in the dead of night from the depths of my mind. That’s who was speaking to the robotic cat.

Reeve: See! So we’re both entirely innocent here!

Tseng: So, to recap... neither of you contributed to Hojo’s death. Who’s actually at fault is the autonomous, toy cat doll that you mentally control to feed your repressed rage, and an entity living inside Sephiroth’s psyche since birth. Do either of you see what’s wrong with that sentence?

Sephiroth: Not at all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have exactly forty minutes to source a cello before the funeral.

Reno: I’ve got a tuba you can borrow.

Sephiroth: Close enough.