@not-cait-sith
He was 13 years old, and this was the definition of insulting.
No! It was more than that; it was humiliating, degrading, and designated his father’s absolute lack of attentiveness to his personal growth and development, alongside his relative levels of capability! By no means did he need to have yet another babysitter for a day - he could explore and examine the facilities of the Shinra building on his own, he was more than equipped to do so!
Instead, his father had simply come to the realization that he regretted bringing Rufus from the Sector 0 estate home into the actual building roughly 30 minutes after the fact, but decided it far too much of a hassle to arrange for him to be brought back, likely due to the complaints he would be forced to listen to.
Of course I would complain. Rufus thought, watching the door to the President’s Office open and footsteps echo across the polished marble flooring. He promises me one experience and then takes it away as soon as he becomes too ‘busy’. Why even take me if you won’t allow me to work! His hands clenched into fists, and he set his jaw before looking up, expression as hardened and stoic as he could reach.
The figure that entered to play nanny this time, however, was different from the rest. Rather than a woman with an air of secretarial business, there was a tall man with dark hair who walked with an air of less corporate whipping and moreso a general air of confusion and perhaps a bit of frustration.
If this man was at least a worker of some quality Rufus would be able to learn something useful out of him. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as the previous few times his father has pulled this stunt.
He watched them talk with a genuine air of disinterest, watching closely and waiting while the adult men went back and forth over something or other. When the stranger, with a soft, half-hidden sigh, finally turned and walked towards him, Rufus stood up, quietly, his eyes still as cold and hard as he could make them; harder than they should be for a child of his age, though that was hardly something he knew. There was no standard to which Rufus could compare himself - he had no friends, no contact with children of his age (nor did he want any).
