Smother {Kingdom Hearts/Final Fantasy Reader Insert} {Finished}

Chapter 2

Emergency placement was in order, and unfortunately social services placed you into the custody of your father. He was a very rich business man, making plenty of money to support you. As no signs of abuse were shown anytime recently, they had decided to place you in his care. After all, he went to therapy, tried to call you and make contact, and was clean for all those years after the divorce. You seethed as a social worker escorted you to the home, assisting you with carrying your belongings. As they rolled your suitcase along the sidewalk leading to the front door, you clutched your bookbag as tight as you could.

This was all bullshit.

Before the social worker could even knock, your father had thrown open the door with a pleasant smile plastered on his face. You gritted your teeth with anger as that fake smile made you sick.

"Mr. Shinra, I presume?" The social worker reached out her hand to shake as a formality. "My name is Tifa Strife. You were cleared to have custody over {Y/N}, however it is mandatory for me to do surprise check-ins once in a while to ensure you're continuing to stay clean and safe. While your daughter gets settled, I am going to come inside and we can have a chat."

Rufus smirked, giving her a firm handshake. "Of course dear. Please come inside."

You scoffed as Tifa nudged you along with her gloved hand. The wind blew her long dark hair in her face, and she brushed it behind her ear. She wore a pair of tight black khaki pants with a button down white shirt tucked in, allowing one button un-done at the top. Her heels clicked as she guided you inside, her seemingly deep red eyes attempting to show you reassurance. You glared to your feet instead, ignoring her pursuit to comfort you. Your father on the other hand, stared at you with his blue mundane eyes. As a business man, it seemed as if he always wore a suit of sorts in an array of colors, yet favoring black, gray, and white paired with black dress shoes. He may have been smiling at you, but you could only assume it was a malicious smirk as the three of you ventured inside.

Your father being wealthy, he had a grand home. White marble floors laid all throughout the house, matching the two staircases leading upstairs that were paired with pure wooden railings. There were rooms to your left, right, and straight ahead, all leading to different parts of the house. To your left was his study room, completed with a large desk, book cases, filing cabinets, a computer, and everything he needed to keep his business running. To the right was the living room area, showing off a white rectangular carpet resting beneath a large white sectional couch. Directly in front of this couch was a large flat screen tv, sitting just above a fake fireplace. More paperwork rested on top of the marble coffee table, completed with books scattered about. Straight ahead of you was the kitchen and dining room area, matching the floors with marble counter tops and an island. The cabinets were also white, spreading all across the kitchen and almost blinding you with all the one solid color. A gorgeous table was placed in the area beside the kitchen, completed with wooden and white chairs all around. There was enough room to fit at least ten different people along that table. The entire downstairs was littered with ugly paintings that only rich people could afford, art that you couldn't understand the value of.

"This is gorgeous." Tifa admitted. "Where would you like to chat?"

Rufus gestured to the living room, where Tifa looked down to her clipboard and followed Rufus there. You watched them leave, glaring at the old man with disgust. You even found yourself glaring at the Social Worker, understanding that she was the main reason you were stuck at that dreaded house.

If you wanted to leave, he would have to abuse you first. Why did you have to suffer before anyone knew you shouldn't be here? Did the records not show his past abuse towards you? They forgave him so easily.

But you didn't.

Ignoring the adults you trudged your way up the stairs, peeking through every door until you found what was supposed to be your room. Your hand turned into a tight fist, seeing the layout. Realizing he had made it almost identical to your old room, you slammed your bag down in anger. Did he think this would help comfort you? The reality was it just reminded you of mom. You and her created your old room together, listening to your favorite music and chatting about what would function the best. Your breath became quick and staggered, your heart beating loudly against your chest. At that moment you just burst into tears, collapsing to your knees. You never really had time to mourn up until now, as you were busy answering police questions and getting placed into another home. For the first time in a while you were alone, and you couldn't stop your emotions from flowing out of your heart. Sobbing uncontrollably, you closed the door behind you and leaned against it, sitting with your knees against your chest.

This was it. This was your life now. She was dead, and someone had murdered her. Who wanted to hurt her? Who hated her so much that they killed her? You grasped your head with your hands, clenching tightly. You were still a child, being only the age of sixteen. However that would not stop you from someday, somehow, finding your mothers murderer.

You would not stop until that bastard was found.