AN: A speed write for my best friend's birthday. Don't worry, I'm working on other fics as well. First attempt at first person POV
Pairing: Tseng and Rufus platonic fluff

I'd sold my soul to the President of the ShinRa company. Left my homeland and the shattered remains of the village I had grown up in, and went to work for the people who had reaped such devastation. I'd become one of their killers, one of their spies, and I was good at it.

I'd worked my way up the ranks, become the youngest second in command of the Turks in their history, and was considered one of the best assassins in the business. Through it all, I had not forgotten where I was from, but I could no longer consider that my identity. I had to move on, to be just a killing machine. My past could no longer be a part of me. I'd still pray, but I doubted that Leviathan would listen.

I'd helped in the war against my people. I'd seen the devastation caused when we dropped bombs on unarmed villages. Just following orders, that was what Reno would have said about it. But it was easy for him to say that. He'd never had a childhood in a peaceful place, he hadn't watched as his mother died an agonizing death. I'd told him that once, and his eyes had glinted strangely. What he had said then had made me feel sick.
"Nah, I didn'. But I'da liked to."

I had not forgiven him for that for a long time. A child should respect their parents, treat them with reverence and concern. I still felt great awe at the abilities my parents had shown. I had tried to explain this to Reno, and he had laughed in my face. The next day, we were back to normal again, and I realized that I would just have to accept that this was how Reno was.

After that argument, my job had been going well. Then I had been injured on a mission, shot in the arm. Veld had listened to my report, then checked my medical records. He had told me that I would not be able to continue on missions, at least for another five or six months. My arm would need that much time to heal and to regain the necessary flexibility to work a gun.

The President had not wanted my talents to be wasted, and so I had been given another mission. Rufus Shinra. A brat of a teenager, with an attitude worse than many of his age. At least, that was what I had been told before I met him, and I wasn't expecting him to prove any different. When I was to guard him, I was sent to Junon. The boy wasn't even trusted within the capital after the attempt he had made on his father's life. I wanted to reprimand him for his lack of decency and respect, but I held my tongue. It was not my job to voice my opinions on the behaviour of the young ShinRa executive.

Our first meeting was beyond difficult. I had walked into the room he was resting in, and he had stared up at me, amusement sparkling in his eyes. I had frowned, holding out my hand, introducing myself as Tseng, his new body guard. He hadn't returned the gesture. I couldn't help viewing that as a snub. It would be a few days later that I first understood it hadn't been an insult, but that the boy could not stand being touched.

I had watched him, working on his paperwork, reading his books, constantly ignoring me. He seemed not to want to talk, not to want to communicate at all. I was tempted to call Reno, I was that lonely. Even the redheaded slummer was better companionship than this. Our first week passed in silence, in which he avoided me as much as possible, and I let him do so. I read, and he worked. That was all that happened between us.

I'd been making lunch for us both one day, when I heard footsteps behind me. I knew that they were the boy's, and so I did not even bother to turn around, focusing on my cooking. He sat down on the table, a little way away from me, and I knew he would be staring at the knife, probably wondering if he could provoke me into injuring him.
"You're Wutaian." The voice that spoke was insolent, cultured, and yet I showed no outwards sign of my irritation with him.
"I am. But I am loyal to ShinRa." Something which this boy should have been.

He was off the table, advancing to stand beside me, swiping a piece of pepper which had been meant for the salad. He ate it before speaking.
"I'm not. I hate my father." His voice was just as cold as my own, a simple statement of fact. My eyes had widened at hearing this treason.
"Please, you should not speak like that. Should your father hear you-"
"Should my father hear me, he would lock me up here." The boy spoke, continuing calmly. Now I had put down the knife, and we were staring into each other's eyes. He was reaching out, pleading with me to listen to him, and I decided to grant him that. I placed my hand on his sleeve, careful to avoid skin to skin contact, and guided him to the table.

He had taken a deep breath, and then began to speak.
"I hate him for what he's done to Wutai, what he has done to the people of the slums. He speaks of the importance of making ShinRa great, and yet he ignores those who could be used to help further our cause. He condemns them to a life of suffering. The only way that this will change is if I get control of the company, and that will only happen when he is unfit to rule."

Initially I had not wanted to hear this, it was treason, filth. The boy was playing with my mind, trying to disorientate me, to distract me from doing what was right. But as he went on, I began to listen. This wasn't just the ramblings of a madman. He had thought through how to change the company, right down to how much each department would get in their annual budget, and what targets would be set. He was ideological, far too full of dreams, but he knew how he could make those dreams reality. I had listened, and I had wondered whether perhaps, I had been wrong about him.

After several months he had been forgiven by his father. I knew the rebellion still burned deeply in his blood, but I did not tell a soul, for there was a spark in my own. I believed in his utopia, and would help him to make it come true. I had returned to the old President, with the boy at my side, and had fired a single shot.

Now, I stay beside Rufus, helping him work. The world has been ripped apart by violence and bloodshed for too long, but I believe that he can make a difference, and I will do all that I can to assist. I've sold my soul to the President of the ShinRa company. I have no regrets.