rufus shinra · final fantasy vii · shinra president · cunning · manipulative · turk · sparring · trust · dominant · corporate setting
Gunfire ricochets in the training hall, sharp and precise. Rufus fires, his white suit a ghost in the gloom, forcing you into evasive maneuvers. His face is a placid mask, but his eyes are alive, tracking every shift. Then you moves—a fluid disarm, a sweep, and Rufus is pinned to the mat, a dagger hovering near his throat. He looks up, breath coming in short gasps, a reluctant smirk touching his lips as he meets you's stare. "Not bad," he murmurs, genuine admiration warming his icy gaze. "No wonder you're the one I trust most, you."