Just Like Honey: Chapter 14
The Red Menace
AU: organized crime, cabaret, sex work
SHIPS: MULTIPLE! rufus/cloud, vincent/cloud, sephiroth/cloud, reeve/cloud, rufus/cloud/tseng, zack/cloud, cloud/other characters as clients because that's his job, weiss/nero, background aerti
RATING: EXPLICIT, no minors allowed, 18+, minors DNI
WARNINGS: violence, sex workers, prostitution
Everything was green. The light was green, the air was green, all he could see and smell and taste was green. Not a fresh green like plants or nature. Poisonous, electric-green soda syrup, thick and sickly sweet. It was burning his eyes, soaking into his poresâhe was swimming in it, swallowing it, his lungs were filling up with it and he was going to drown. He kept hearing something, through the suffocating density of the fluid. A voice, muffled and distorted. What was it saying?
ââŠyou! What areâŠhere?â
Abruptly, as if a bubble had popped, the green pressure burst and drained suddenly away, and Cloud gasped in a deep breath, like he had broken through the surface of the ocean, from some unfathomable depth. That formerly faint voice became loud and razor sharp, in his ringing ears.
âWake up! Wake the fuck up!â
With a tremendous effort, he forced his heavy, sandy eyes open, then flinched in the blinding light, which stung and made them fill with tears. Covering his face with his arms, he groaned and rolled onto his side.
His head was splitting and his pulse was beating a dubstep rhythm on his eardrums. His body felt sore and weak and feverish, too, as if heâd gone through an extreme workout routine while suffering from a severe flu. His mouth tasted like some kind of dental medicine. Like that horrible, all-pervading green from the dream. His stomach turned, as the dizzy, seasick feeling returned.
âI asked you a question,â the hostile voice persisted. âA series of questions, in fact. I suggest you answer them quickly. I am not a patient man.â
Ugh, this prick. He uncovered his eyes and tried to squint around, but all he could see was a too-bright blur, through all the stinging and watering in his eyes.
It slowly occurred to him, as his thoughts recalled themselves from the wild interpretive dance theyâd been doing, and fell reluctantly back into a semblance of order, that he was in Zackâs bed, in Zackâs room, at Shinra Tower. That made sense, because that was where heâd gone to sleep. What didnât make sense, was this irritating person-blob, looming over him, backlit by the huge windows, rudely demanding a lot of answers to baffling questions.
âWho the hell are you?â he finally managed, in a husky rasp. âWhat are you doing in here?â
âYou are in no position to ask questions of me, trespasser,â said the interloper, his voice gratingly clear, despite his person being fuzzy and vague. âYou have exactly five seconds to tell me who you are and what you are doing in SOLDIER First Class Fairâs quarters.â
Cloud ignored the question and rubbed his eyes. Things were developing colors, though shapes continued to be mostly beyond his comprehension. The person-blob was all red, from top to bottom. Perfect. A big, red, blurry annoyance, as a counterpoint to that sickening green dream. Just as he was thinking this, his vision adjusted, and a manâs person resolved, in front of him.
Cloud stared up at him, still blinking away tears. âYouâreâŠCommander Rhapsodos.â
âI know who I am,â the supernaturally beautiful, world-famous war hero returned tartly. âI asked who you are. Last chance.â
âIâm Cloud,â he said, clearing his throat against the cracking hoarseness. âIâm Zackâs friend.â
âIncorrect,â Genesis Rhapsodos retorted. âI know all of Zackâs two friends, of which I am one. You are not the other.â
âBut I am,â Cloud maintained. âI mean, weâre not very close friends, butââ
âYouâre not very close friends, and yet you are sleeping in his bed, in his highly secure private room, whilst he is absent.â Fierce, stunning eyesâlike if a tigerâs eyes could be vibrant blueânarrowed suspiciously. âYou know what I think? I think youâre a Turk spy.â
Cloud frowned, disoriented by this bizarre logical leap. âHuh? Iâm not a Turk.â
âThen how do you explain this?â With an air of triumph, the First SOLDIER held something up for him to see, then waited impatiently while Cloudâs bleary eyes took a moment to recognize it.
âWait a goddamn minute. If you have my ID, why are you asking who I am?â Cloud demanded, his awed reverence for this man decreasing in direct proportion to his increasing grumpiness level. âYou can see my name on there, and that Iâm a civilian contractor. I met Zack in the lobby, after work, and weâve ben hanging out.â
âNice try, little Turk,â Genesis sneered. âYour ID has a higher level of access clearance than mine. I checked. Now, are you going to tell me what youâre really doing here, or shall I drag your ass up to Director Tsengâs office and ask him in person?â
âLetâs do that,â Cloud said, brightening. âActually, Iâll call him right now. He can tell you who I am.â
Genesis clucked his tongue and gave his long, burnished-copper hair a dismissive toss. âWhy would I believe that sneaky Turkâs word about another Turk? Heâd just lie for you.â
âIf you wouldnât believe him anyway, then why did you threaten me withââ
âSilence!â Genesis cut him off, holding up his gloved hand. âIâve changed my mind. Youâre too stupid to be a Turk.â
Cloud made a face. âSeriously? I mean, no offense, but RenoâŠâ
âHa! Turk! Youâve exposed yourself by naming your accomplice!â
âI met Reno in the lobby, too!â Cloud pleaded, leaning back to evade the accusing finger, that was dangerously close to his face.
Genesis withdrew the finger and planted his hands on his hips. âSo, in this fantastic scenario youâve constructed, Shinraâs top-level military and intelligence personnel have just been hanging around the lobby all day, waiting to run into you.â
âIt kind of seems that way, actually,â Cloud muttered. âBut listen, misterâcommanderââ
âGenesis.â
âGenâŠGenesis,â he repeated, faltering under the weight of the manâs forename, which felt much too grand and luxurious to be handled so casually by his backwoods mouth. âI get that itâs weird for a civilian to know a SOLDIER First Class and some Turks, and have really high access clearance, but itâs because I do private consulting for some high-level people at Shinra. Tseng knows all about it. He can back me up.â
âWhich high-level people, and why does Tseng know all about it?â
âTseng knows because he got me my clearance. Sorry, but I canât tell you who my clients are. I signed some pretty hefty NDAs, and Iâm more afraid of Shinraâs lawyers than I am of you. Uh. With all due respect.â
Genesis pursed his perfect, sculptorâs-model lips. âThen what kind of consulting do you do? Iâm sure telling me that much wonât violate any NDAs.â
Now Cloud was in a pickle. He didnât think it would be wise to try lying to the man who had personally obliterated an entire island nation, at the age of fourteen, but the nature of his âconsultingâ at Shinra was the whole reason for the NDAs, in the first place. As for his work outside Shinra, that was fair game. Also, Genesis could literally pick up the Arts & Culture section of any Midgar newspaper, and instantly find out what his day job (so to speak) was, anyway.
âIâm a professional dancer. I consult as a physical therapist, on the side,â he said, relying on his standard euphemism for client work. It was even sort of true. What he did basically amounted to therapy of a physical nature. And, being a lifelong athlete, he knew enough to bullshit his way through if he was ever questioned. Â
Meanwhile, First SOLDIER Genesis Rhapsodos, from the news and television shows and recruitment ads and documentaries and huge fucking poster in Zackâs living room, was standing there looking like the definition of human superiority, eyeing Cloud cagily. âPhysical therapist? Arenât you a little young for that?â
âI am, thank you.â
âTch. And youâre good enough to see clients who require you to have sky-high access to Shinra Tower?â
âOf course. Why else would they have hired me?â
âYou realize I can very easily find out exactly who you really are, and what it is you do, correct?â
âI mean. Youâre holding my ID card, soâŠâ
Genesis promptly tossed the ID to him. âIs Zack a client?â
âNo. Weâre friends, like I told you.â
âThe kind of friends who fuck?â
âYeah, that kind,â Cloud shot back defiantly.
âHmph. Well, I suppose you are pretty enough for Zack to notice you. Youâre too stupid to be a Turk and too small to be a SOLDIER, soâŠperhaps you are telling something in the vicinity of the truth. But youâre still trespassing. This is a private floor, restricted to the Firsts and our invited guests.â
âI keep telling you, I am an invited guest,â Cloud said wearily. âZack brought me here, himself.â
âAh, but guest privileges only last twenty-four hours. Zack is not currently in residence, and has not been since yesterday morning. Hence, you are no longer an invited guest.â
âNice try, but Iâm not that stupid,â Cloud scoffed. âI spent the night with Zack last night, how could he have been away since yesterday?â
âYou must be stupid, if you think Iâd fall for a lie that obvious,â Genesis scoffed right back. âI know precisely how long heâs been gone. I saw him off, myself.â
âBut I can prove it!â Cloud insisted, rummaging on the night stand for his phone. âLook, here! He messaged me after he left, this mornâŠing. What the fuck?â
He stared at the screen in blank bewilderment. Then he closed the messaging app and opened it again, as if that might somehow convince the discrepancy to resolve itself. It didnât. No matter how he looked at it, the messages from Zack were dated from the twelfth, while his phoneâs home screen proclaimed today to be the thirteenth. Â
An ominous weight began to settle in the pit of his stomach. He racked his brain, trying to think what the fuck could have happened, and what he could have been doing here for an entire extra twenty-four hours, to no avail. The harder he thought, the more muddled his mind became, till a stab of pain split his skull and he groaned, collapsing back into the pillows.
âI thinkâŠIâm sick,â he panted, as a wave of electric-green nausea rolled in on the heels of the pain.
âMentally, at least,â Genesis said drily. âThough, it looks as if you may be physically ill, too. Youâve gone quite pale.â
âHave to go,â Cloud mumbled, doggedly pushing himself up again. âGotta get home. Andreaâs probably freaking the fuck out.â
âWhoâs Andrea?â Genesis demanded. âYour partner? Lover? Are you two-timing Zack?â
âZackâs not my boyfriend, and Andreaâs my boss,â Cloud said irritably. âAndrea Rhodea.â
âAndrea Rhodea, of the Honeybee?â
âIs there another guy on the Planet named Andrea Rhodea?â
âSo youâre that kind of consultant,â Genesis said, with a knowing smirk. âWell, that does clarify things, doesnât it.â
âDoesnât clarify what happened to my entire missing day, but Iâm glad you feel enlightened,â Cloud grumbled, as he scooted to the side of the bed to contemplate the task of standing.
âAt least I understand why youâve been obfuscating your relationship to Zack, now. Client confidentiality is a sacred tenet of your trade, after all.â
âI donât know how many times I have to tell you, Zackâs not a client. Do you have a learning disability, or something?â
âYou know, itâs not every day one of the Firsts brings a new person into the sanctum,â Genesis mused, as if he hadnât heard him. âThey are usually quite careful about preserving my privacy.â
âWell, you donât have to worry about me. I happen to be a very private person, outside of work. I wouldnât talk about you to anyone, unless I wanted to draw attention to myself, which I do not.â
âMn. We who work in the public eye tend to be quite guarded, donât we.â
âBy guarded, I assume you mean âsuspicious assholesâ.â
Genesis shrugged. âTakes one to know one.â
Cloud snorted out a laugh, then groaned again, as the throbbing ache clamped down on his skull. âThis is like, the worst hangover Iâve ever had, times a thousand. What the fuck happened to me?â
âConsidering the missing time, I would suspect someone had slipped you something, only youâre in the most secure location in Midgar. No one can even enter this floor, without Angeal, Zack, or myself.â
âWonât my ID get me in? You said the clearance is higher than yours.â
Genesis shook his head. The sun had briefly broken through the eternal cloud cover, at that moment, and his long hair threw off fiery shimmers in the brilliant light, now streaming in the windows. âThis floor is a special area. Not even the little prince can use his credentials to get in, and he owns the place.â
Cloud made a mental note that âlittle princeâ was a pretty good pet name for his dog. âBut there has to be a way around that. Iâve seen a lot of spy movies. Thereâs always a back door, and some guy with a key.â
âI think weâre assuming a bit too much. Most likely, you took some medication of Zackâs, accidentally. The concoctions they give us could easily kill an unenhanced person. Thereâs no reason they couldnât cause a blackout.â
âI donât think so,â Cloud said doubtfully. âI hardly take any meds. Like, not even over the counter painkillers. Why would I suddenly break that habit?â
âMaybe you were already hung over and looking for something to take the edge off.â
âNo way. We didnât drink anything stronger than Mt. Nibel Dew, at the movie theater. Though, Iâm pretty sure that stuff could strip the paint off cars.â
A perfectly groomed copper eyebrow arched. âAw, how precious. A date at the movies, like a pair of high-school sweethearts.â
âHey, shut up,â Cloud scowled, then quickly remembered who he was talking to, and how easily severable his neck and limbs were. âI meanâŠI didnât meanâŠsorry.â
âYou donât have to walk on tenterhooks, for my sake,â Genesis replied breezily. âIâve decided that I like you.â
âSince like a minute ago, when I was a Turk spy?â
âYes, my capriciousness is part of my charm. Do try and keep up.â
âWait, what the hell is a tenterhook?â
âYou are a friend of Zackâs, and so you must be a friend of mine.â
âMust I?â
âYou must. Give me your phone.â
Fighting down a disorienting sense of unreality, to the point that he was beginning to doubt heâd actually woken up, Cloud held out his phone to the most famous man on the entire planet. Genesis took it and tapped on the screen for a moment, as if he was some kind of human being who did mundane human things like using the chat app on a phone.
âThere. Now you have a contact that the tabloid press would pay ruinous sums of money to acquire. Consider it a gesture of trust.â
Cloud looked at the screen, as he accepted the phone back. Sure enough, Genesis had added his contact details, under the inexplicable name BadApple.
âUm. Thank you,â he said stiffly.
âDonât mention it. Now that weâre on such intimate terms, I will do you a friendly favor and escort you home.â
Cloud balked at the idea of this monumental celebrity spending his incalculably valuable time driving him down to a whorehouse in the slums. âWhy would you do that?â
âYou said yourself that your boss must be in fits, worrying about you.â
âI donât think I used the word âfitsâ.â
âBesides, youâre far too unwell to go on your own. Iâm afraid you have no choice but to indulge my fancy and let me take care of you, in Zackâs stead.âÂ
âThâthanks, then,â Cloud said, not knowing why he felt so inclined to cooperate. âThatâs very kind of you.â
âAnything for a friend. By the way, youâre not afraid of heights, are you?â
âOh, no,â Cloud groaned, as he was taken by both wrists and pulled to his unsteady feet. âNot another helicopter.â
âHelicopter? Goddess forbid.â
Winged flight is a glory of which humans have dreamt, since our first primitive ancestors beheld the flight of birds, with envy and longing. Over the millennia, the development of modern engineering has brought our species into the sky, but it is only a pyrrhic victory. For all our technological capability, there is still nothing we can do, that approaches the freedom and grace of sailing through the heavens under oneâs own power, unfettered by artificial apparatus, and unbound from the planetâs gravity.
This is, of course, because most of us are not superhuman killing machines, genetically engineered by highly unscrupulous scientists, in the employ of a colossal mega-corporation, with unlimited funds and little interest in ethical minutiae. Genesis Rhapsodos was one such superhuman, and along with all the other physical and mental advantages those morally elastic scientists had bestowed upon him, came the power of flight, unaided by mechanical contrivance.
The heaven-defying splendor of this experience was wasted on Cloud, unfortunately, because he was far too occupied in using every ounce of his strength to cling fast to this winged madman, who had scooped him up like a princess and leapt off a sixtieth floor balcony, with literally zero warning.
He wasnât sure how high they were, or how far theyâd gotten, because he was also keeping his eyes squeezed resolutely shut, lest he faint from terror and fall to his death. But it wasnât as if he missed that much. Even if heâd not been too petrified to open them, the icy-cold wind battering his person, due to the tremendous speed at which Genesis traveled, would have forced his eyes shut, and he wouldnât have been able to enjoy the spectacular view, anyway.
Repeating a silent oath to the helicopter goddess that heâd never speak or think ill of those wonderful machines again, Cloud weathered the ordeal as best he could. In a briefer time than he would have expected, he felt Genesis arc downward, plummeting like a very slow meteor, till they alit on the street, outside the Honeybee.
âWings. You haveâŠwings,â Cloud mumbled drunkenly.
Genesis set him on his feet, then immediately had to catch him, because he swayed and nearly pitched over.
Adrenaline-crashing and irrationally indignant, Cloud tried to push the man away and stand on his own, only to find he could do neither. He was in superb health and uncommonly resilient, but even his robust constitution was no match for ghastly green dreams and an aching head and sick stomach and missing time, and getting woken up and interrogated by war heroes from posters and dragged off balconies and flown across the cityâall slopped together, like the worldâs most stressful omelet.
The thought of an omelet set a fresh wave of nausea crashing over him and with that final straw, Cloudâs wobbly legs gave out. It was thus that he was carried into the Honeybee, half senseless and pale as death, after an absence of multiple days with no contact, in the arms of the worldâs most renowned personage. Needless to say, it caused something of a commotion.
The club was still several hours from opening, so there were few staff in the front of house. The first person to encounter the pair was a waitress in a bee costume, who stopped dead in her tracks and shrieked, âCloud! Andrea! Cloudâs back! Heâs back!â Without stopping to ask questions, she wheeled about and went running away down the hall, bee-bustle bouncing violently behind her.
There was a general rustling and banging as other people came hurrying out of various doors, in response to the disturbance. Among these were Aerith and Tifa, who would have thrown their arms around Cloud and peppered him with tearful kisses, but for the fact that he was being carried byâ
âGenesis Rhapsodos?â Aerith said, tilting her head to one side, then the other, as if the slight alteration in angle might reveal him to be an entirely different person.
âAt your service,â the First SOLDIER answered, with a dip of his chin, since his possession of Cloudâs person made bowing inconvenient, at the moment. âI understand my young friend belongs to this establishment.â
âWhat happened to him?â Tifa cut in, too beside herself with worry to care about any celebrity, war hero or no. âWhy are you carrying him? Heâs not hurt, is he?â
Genesis eyed her skeptically. âHe only mentioned Andrea Rhodea. Iâm afraid I wonât be relaying details to anyone else, on his behalf.â
She would have replied indignantly, but Andrea came rushing in just then, with the bee-costumed waitress trailing after him. His expression, when he saw Cloud, was that specific cocktail of fear, hope, shock, anger, and tremendous relief, that one might see on the face of a parent, when a teenaged child comes home safely, many hours after curfew.
âCloud, darling! Thank the goddess youâre safe!â he cried, shooing the girls out of the way. He immediately observed Cloudâs condition, however, and addressed himself to his protector, in a lowered voice. âIs it serious? Does he need a doctor?â
Genesis answered in an equally confidential tone. âI donât believe so, but it would be best to take him somewhere more comfortable and private, before you ask him any questions.â
âOf course, of course,â Andrea agreed quickly. âHis room is upstairs. You donât have to trouble yourself, though, I can carry him from here.â
âNo, thank you. Iâve come this far, so I may as well take him all the way.â
âI actually thinkâI can walk now,â Cloud said, lifting his head feebly.
âNo one asked you,â Genesis informed him, pushing it right back down. âLead the way.â
Scolding the staff to stop gawking and get back to work, Andrea led his headliner and said headlinerâs guardian angel to the staff elevator. Practically dying of curiosity, but not having any alternative, everyone dispersed and went back to work. But there was a lot of grumbling about it.
âItâs good to see you well, Genesis,â Andrea said awkardly, as the elevator lurched upward.
âLikewise, Andrea,â Genesis replied, in an equally strained tone.
Neither of them looked at the other. There was a stifling, wooly silence until the bell dinged, announcing their arrival on the third floor.
Nero and Weiss, who had apparently been waiting for the elevator, stood out of the way for the three, as they emergedâWeiss with a look of concern, and Nero with a sneer.
âSo, heâs alive,â Nero sniffed. âLooks like I owe you twenty gil, brother.â
âCloud, weâre so glad youâre back,â said Weiss, smiling warmly. âWe were worried about you.â
âI was not the least bit worried,â Nero corrected.
âThank you for bringing him home, sir,â Weiss said, addressing Genesis, who he clearly did not recognize. âIs he alright? Heâs not injured, is he?â
âOnly a bit under the weather,â Genesis assured one of the only two people in the world who seemed to have no idea who he was. âHe felt faint, so I thought itâd be safer to carry him. Canât risk having the Honeybeeâs big star out of commission, can we.â
âTch,â Nero said, and sauntered past them into the elevator, followed by Weiss.
In Cloudâs room, Genesis laid the returned lamb down on his bed, where Cloud gave a brief and somewhat scattered account of his situation, to an increasingly anxious Andrea. Unable to make heads or tails of it, and needing to be doing something useful, he hurried off to make Cloud some of his famous hangover tea, just in case it might help.
âWhat do you mean, the Honeybeeâs big star?â Cloud asked Genesis, once heâd gone. âYou said you didnât know who I was and called me a spy.â
âYes, but I happen to be literate, and your name is all over the marquees, outside. Not to mention the many posters in the lobby.â
âYou didnât recognize it before?â
âI donât get out much,â Genesis said, casting his eyes about, for a place to sit. The single chair in the room had a pile of Cloudâs glittery costumes draped over it, so he seated himself on the corner of the bed.
âUh. My roomâs kind of a disaster,â Cloud said sheepishly. âSorry about that.â
âI like it. Itâs colorful and lived-in. It feels veryâŠyours.â
âWell, yeah. Iâve been here for five years.â
âIâve lived in Shinra Tower for twelve years. My room has never felt like mine.â
âWhatâs your place like? The same as Zackâs?â
âItâs about twice the size. And it was furnished from Shinraâs private, curated collection of antiques.â
âWow. Thatâs generous of Shinra.â
âThey didnât do it for me. They did it for the optics. I am aware that itâs more than most people have, and I shouldnât complain, but itâs furnished according to other peopleâs tastes, and Iâm not allowed to live anywhere else. Itâs nothing but aââ
âIf you say the words âgilded cageâ right now, I swear to the goddess,â Cloud threatened.
Genesis laughed. It was a beautiful, unaffected laugh, that burst forth naturally and scintillated in the air, like a rainbow of ice crystals. Cloud got the feeling it was a very rare and precious sound.
âI wasnât going to say gilded cage, for your information, as apt as the aphorism would have been. I was going to say it was nothing but a PR ploy. âMyâ apartment was featured in a dozen interior design magazine spreads, before I even set foot inside.â
âBut youâre a SOLDIER. Shouldnât they want you guys to look super badass, likeâŠsleeping on beds of nails and eating raw meat and stuff?â
âShinraâs PR people arenât fools. They knew the gung-ho, hyper-masculine image wouldnât suit me. Unlike their standard recruits, I grew up wealthy and privileged, and I didnât adapt well to many aspects of life, at Shinra.â
âBy âdidnât adapt wellâ, you meanâŠâ
âI incinerated three training facilities in as many weeks, and the fire that mysteriously began in the first quarters they assigned me at the Tower took down half a floor of the building.â
âWow. And Andrea accuses me of having diva tantrums.â
âCan you blame me? They expected me to sleep in polyester sheets,â Genesis shivered.
âI think we can all agree that synthetic fabrics are an abomination,â said Cloud, who was very particular about his own bed linens. âSo, you had a habit of setting fire to Shinra property in fits of pique, and their solution wasâŠto give you a lot more extremely expensive Shinra property.â
âMm-hm. Funny how that works, isnât it?â
âI get the feeling thatâs how it works for you, most of the time.â
Genesis had gotten up and was shrugging off his famous, crimson leather trench coat, which he flung carelessly onto Cloudâs chair, atop the other clothes. His thermal top was sleeveless, and Cloud couldnât help but notice that his arms were a lot more muscular than theyâd appeared, under the sleekly tailored coat.
âCorrect. Iâm not the type to take things lying down, in the first place, but they also made a crucial mistake.â
âWhich was?â
âThey let me find out that the launch of their SOLDIER program was relying entirely on me. You know what they say. Never let a spoiled, melodramatic, superhuman teenager, with the ability to spontaneously create massively destructive fires, find out how vital he is to the success of your riskiest venture.â
âTch. Who doesnât know that old saying? I think my mom has it cross-stitched on a pillow.â
Genesis chuckled again. He was over at the vanity table, now, rummaging through Cloudâs array of perfumes and cosmetics. The cosmetics were all well loved, but most of the perfume bottles were gifts from clients, left unopened, only placed around for decoration. Cloud watched him, fascinated by the way he interacted with physical space. He seemed to move with careless, catlike grace, but there was something off about it.
Suddenly, it occurred to him what he was seeing. As natural as they appeared, all of Genesisâ movements were delayed, by an infinitesimal fraction of a second. As if everything he did was a deliberate and calculated performance.
Cloud was thunderstruck. The level of absolute self-awareness, and the incredible presence of mind it would take, to consciously regulate every single move your body made, was unimaginable. He prided himself on his excellent control, but this man was far out of his league.
âFeel free to tell me to mind my own business,â he said, âbut if you donât like it at Shinra, why donât you leave?â
âYouâre mistaken,â Genesis answered, as he picked up a particularly ornate crystal bottle and turned it in his hand, watching the refraction of the light, in the finely cut facets. âI am very satisfied with my position at Shinra. We have our differences, but I wouldnât trade it for the world. I am a hero, after all.â
Cloud was unable to respond to this strange statement, because Andrea knocked on the door, at that moment, and bustled in with a tray, bearing slices of toast, and the promised pot of tea.
âHow are you feeling, bumblebee?â he asked, as Cloud sipped a steaming cup.
âStill achy, all over,â Cloud admitted. âBut the tea is really helping my stomach.â
âI think you should let the doctor have a look at you. Losing a whole day canât be normal. What if you hit your head?â
âBut my head doesnât hurt anymore. Itâs just my body.â
âThe best cure for that would be a long, hot bath,â Genesis put in.
Cloud shrugged. âStaff bathroom only has showers.â
âCorrect me if Iâm wrong, but I had heard that the Honeybee possesses a luxury suite, featuring the largest bath in the city.â
âWe do,â Andrea said proudly. âThe Greek bath suite. I designed it myself.â
âThere you go, Cloud. Why not try it?â
âThose suites are for sessions with clients,â Cloud objected. âI donât need to soak in a hot tub, anyway. The shower will be just fine.â
âI really think you should try the bath.â
âWell, youâre not the boss of me, soâŠâ Â
Genesis narrowed his eyes. âAndrea, I have become enamored with this charming little honeybee. I would like to book a session with him, in the Greek bath suite, to begin immediately. Here is my Shinra ID. Charge whatever you like, theyâll be paying. There. Now Iâm a client.â
âHey, wait a minute. I didnât agree to this,â Cloud protested.
âSorry, bumblebee, we canât possibly turn away a world famous war-hero,â Andrea said, gleefully scanning the ID card with his phone. âIâm sure youâll do your very best to satisfy your client.â
âYou heard the man,â Genesis said smugly. âBath time.â
âThe fact remains that he walked into this building and did not walk out!â Rufus Shinra was thundering, at some uniformed Shinra security guards, who stood before his desk, shaking in their boots. âUnless he grew wings and flew away, he is still inside it, somewhere. Do your jobs and find him, or Iâll replace you with men who can!â
The guards hastily saluted, and practically ran from the office. The moment the door shut behind them, Rufus sank into his leather chair, clenching his teeth and spasmodically clutching his neck, where the knot of intense pain was worsening by the hour. Darkstar, sensing his masterâs distress, but not having a wide range of options, as far as comforting him, put his massive head on Rufusâ lap and snorted, in sympathy.
âSir,â said Tseng, as he stepped in, a moment later.
âI donât want to hear anything, unless itâs about Cloud Strifeâs exact location and status.â
âUnderstood, sir.â Tseng turned on his heel, to walk back out the door.
âGet back here, you asshole,â Rufus called after him. âYou know better than to listen to me, when Iâm like this.â
âYes, sir,â Tseng replied, with an audible smirk in his voice, if not on his face. âIâve got the report from our agents in Wutai. There are a number of interesting photos, which I thought you might want to see. Nothing from the Valentine compound, for obvious reasons, but security at Da-chao Palace did not present an obstacle.â
âPut them on the screen,â Rufus said irritably. âI donât want to scroll through your phone.â
Tseng did whatever he did to make the holographic screen appear, in front of Rufusâ desk, and the photo set popped up. The first one was Cloud, being handed out of the car by Vincent Valentine, at the grand entrance to Da-chao palace. The next twenty or so were shots of the two walking the red carpet, from a lot of different angles. There were dozens, inside the ballroom, documenting every single person Cloud and Vincent spoke to, though they were not of the highest quality, due to the lighting and the crowd.
âPrincess Kyrie,â Rufus muttered. âAre the rumors about her and Valentine true?â
âUnlikely, sir.â
He scowled at a picture of four youths, who he hadnât seen before. Or maybe he had. Their faces had been beaten till they looked like pigsâ heads, so there would be no way of knowing. The series of photos depicted them emerging from what appeared to be a side-courtyard, disheveled and bloody, heavily aided by Da-chao palace staff.
âWho are they?â
âNo one important. The sons of some businessmen and minor gentry, from Junon and Kalm.â
âThen why are you making me look at them? Who beat them up, like this?â
âFrom what I can tell, sir, Cloud Strife did,â Tseng said tranquilly.
Rufus forcibly concealed his astonishment, since that was exactly the reaction Tseng had intended to produce, by springing it on him like that, and replied coolly. âExplain.â
âUpon investigation, we have surmised that, at the behest of Princess Kyrie of Junon, these young men lured Cloud Strife into a room used for storage, in this courtyard annex, a small distance from the main palace. Brass knuckles and a cricket bat belonging to two of the young men were found at the scene. Itâs unlikely they expected to be the victims of a severe beating.â
âWhat does Junon have to do with Cloud Strife? Why would they target him? To get to Valentine?â
âThese four are not in Queen Mireilleâs employ. Theyâre amateur thugs, just out of prep school, with a history of academic misconduct, assault, and allegations of sexual abuse of fellow students. It appears the grievance was personal, in nature.â
âPersonal how?â
âWe obtained this video, from one of our people inside Junon Palace. It was sent to Queen Mireille, whose personal assistant uploaded it to the palace email server. I believe it will answer your questions.â
Tseng touched the play button, and the video popped up on the screen.
âPlease, please stop,â a male voice was groaning, as the phone camera jostled and blurred, and then focused on his face. Or, what was left of it, anyway. The bridge of his nose was sitting at a grotesque angle, and was already livid with an ugly, purple contusion. One eye was swollen all the way shut, and there was blood in the drool trickling down his chin, as he bawled and pleaded. âDonât kill me, please. My fatherâs super rich. Heâll give you anything you want. Donât kill me.â
âI told you idiots like ten times, Iâm not going to kill you,â said a voice behind the camera, that was so very clearly Cloud Strifeâs, Rufus got half-hard just hearing it. âYou are going to look into this camera, and state your name, your buddiesâ names, and exactly what you did.â
âBuuuuhuuuhuuuuuu, it was all Gregorâs ideeeaaaaaa!â the young man wailed, till Cloudâs hand flew out and slapped him across the mouth, stunning him into silence.
âStop crying, you fucking embarrassment. You brought this on yourself. Be a man and own up to what you did. Then it will all be over. Understood?â
Cloudâs voice was icy and domineering, and lacked the bantering lilt it had, when he was ordering Rufus around, in their sessions. Without that cork on the foil, it was a naked blade, of which Rufus was just now learning the sharpness. He shuddered involuntarily, at the same time the young man on the screen gave a terrified nod.
âGood,â said Cloud. âNow talk.â
With admirable patience, Rufus listened to the perpetratorâs rambling, self-justifying, blubbering account, all the way to the end. This included the names of his accomplices, their leaderâs sister, who had brought the princess to them, Princess Kyrieâs belief that she was betrothed to Vincent Valentine and that Cloud Strife was an interloper, and the four young menâs intention to record themselves assaulting Cloud, then release the video to the internet, in order to publicly humiliate him. Princess Kyrie, for unclearly defined reasons, apparently believed that this would somehow alienate Cloud from Vincent Valentine, thus endearing her to him.
Rufus had superhuman control of his body language and expressions, but Tseng observed the slight flaring of his nostrils, as he slowly tapped one finger on the desk.
âPlease, try to remain calm, sir,â he said. âYouâll make your neck pain worse.â
âThank you, Tseng, I am perfectly calm,â Rufus replied. âShinra must not be seen to have ties to the families of those four young men. Should anyâŠmisfortune befall them, they will certainly be subject to public scrutiny, which might tarnish our reputation, by association.â
âUnderstood, sir.â
âIs Princess Kyrie still in Wutai?â
âNo, sir. The princess has been sent by her majesty the queen, on a goodwill tour of Junonâs charity hospitals and vaccination centers, all over the world. She is expected to be abroad for twelve months, at the least.â
Rufus gave a mirthless laugh. âI guess sheâs in time-out, then.â
âShall I have my agents keep an eye on her?â Â
âDonât bother. Queen Mireille can deal with the brat herself.â Rufus flipped back through the pictures, to the young men being helped out of the storage room, and stared thoughtfully at them, for a long time. âThis type of beating. It wasnât panic or self defense. It wasnât even anger. It wasâŠâ
âRuthless,â Tseng finished for him.
âYes. But you donât have to sound so pleased about it,â Rufus muttered.
Tsengâs phone vibrated with an incoming call, just then, which all his agents knew never to do, unless it was urgent. âWhat is it?â
âSir, itâs Elena. I think we figured out what happened to Cloud Strife.â
âOne moment. Iâm putting you on speaker, with President Shinra. Go ahead.â
âGood morning, Mr. President. We have just learned that an hour ago, Commander Rhapsodos was absent from a SOLDIER briefing, and we have multiple witnesses saying he flew past their windows, carrying a blonde-haired individual. We think that individual was Cloud Strife, and that he and Commander Rhapsodos exited via a window or balcony, on the First Class floor, where there are no security cameras.â
âDamn it. What the hell kind of show is Lazard running, over there?â Rufus snarled, clutching his neck, where the knot was twisting tighter. âWhy are his freaks hosting civilians on restricted floors, and flying out of unauthorized exits, with no accountability?â
âUncertain, sir. This is brand new intel, and I called Director Tseng immediately, as instructed. Iâm on my way to speak with Director Lazard, now.â
âGood work, Elena,â Tseng said. âKeep me updated.â
âYes, sir.â
He tapped the screen to end the call, and again to make another. âRude. Get down to the Honeybee. I want eyes on Cloud Strife. Alert me, the moment heâs found. And watch out for the Red Menace. Apparently theyâre together.â
THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY
genesis my beloved
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