Confidence Games - FF7, Kunsel, Zack, Cissnei
Author’s Note: A rather late birthday present for sinnatious who requested Kunsel-fic and accidentally created a monster. This probably wasn’t what she had in mind because it certainly wasn’t what I had in mind either.
---
There’s a status quo at Shinra with little room for deviation. Troopers don’t like SOLDIERs and SOLDIERs don’t like troopers.
Nobody likes the Turks.
When it turns out that his partner is providing information to Shinra rivals, Kunsel confronts him.
Two minutes later, Kunsel is lying on his back bleeding from a bullet wound in his chest.
At that point it occurs to him the sentiment may be justified.
---
“Rude informs me you have a talent with swords,” Tseng says to him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Would you be willing to pursue your ability?”
“Sir?”
“The newest division of the army, SOLDIER, is quickly accumulating a great deal of power. Many of the company’s best and brightest recruits are being funnelled into them. It is felt in some quarters that this new development should be closely monitored… At this point in time, you are still young enough to enter and there is little to link you to us.”
There’s no actual question in this statement, but Kunsel sees it nonetheless and nods, watching the tiny figure wavering in the darkness of his superior’s eyes.
---
He sits in the cafeteria, watching the cadets. Not the other cadets. He’s not really one of them.
The results of the SOLDIER exams are expected any minute and they skitter around like a herd of startled horses, utterly ignoring the rapidly cooling food on their trays. As soon as he gets his regulation helmet, Kunsel intends to put it on and never take it off so he can roll his eyes in privacy. It’s almost unthinkable that anybody who wants to be in the army would do such a thing. A soldier - a true soldier - sleeps when they can, eats when they can, taking nothing for granted whatever the circumstances.
Admittedly his place is ensured anyways so there is nothing to worry about so he sits a little ways away, playing the part of the calm cadet. People tend to respond well to such behaviour and it could come in handy later on if he was remembered as the confident one.
“Hey there, mind if I join you?”
He looks up into bristly black hair and a too-wide smile and sees his future.
---
His new partner Cissnei is only recently assigned to him. She watches the SOLDIERs from the outsider end of things, frequently ‘running into’ them and occasionally outright interrogating them. It gives them an excuse to debrief him and pass along orders but the meetings are rare to avoid seeming out of the ordinary.
He knows she’s older than she looks and specializes covert-ops. He knows little else.
---
The room used for the SOLDIER treatments contains machinery which gives off a dull hum not unlike the sound of a insect’s wings. It’s appropriate considering the manner with which the Science Department man it. They buzz around the chamber, all dressed in uniform white coats, and treating their subjects with little in the way of human courtesies.
The room also contains massive tubes of glass, their interiors marred by scabs of crystallised mako and deep scratches.
Kunsel says nothing as Zack enters one without a second thought.
---
“Ugh.” He flops into one of the many chairs. Nobody ever mentioned this part of the transformation, the utter exhaustion.
Cissnei is already pouring him a cup of coffee. It’s the Da Chao Mountain blend, and its stands out the palette of his nose, spicy and smooth, among the lemon citrus of the cleaner used on the floors, the fuzzy ozone of the computers and even the chemicals of Cissnei’s deodorant. It’s his favourite and freshly brewed too. He can tell. Even all the way on the other side of the room, he can tell.
The scent may be utter heaven, but the moment he sips it, all he can taste is bitter. Enhanced senses. Great.
He’s about to grab the cream and sugar, only to realise that Cissnei is already passing it.
“You’re going to get fat if you keep drinking stuff like that,” she says lightly as he dumps about half the contents of the sugar bowl and most of the cream into his mug. “It would be a first for a SOLDIER and I gather Tseng doesn’t want you to stand out that much.”
“Maybe I’m secretly planning to make a stand against anorexia,” Kunsel grumbles. He takes another sip and glares at his mutinous coffee. Now it was sickeningly sweet. “…or maybe not.”
It strikes him then that she was expecting all these changes. She was already prepared while nobody informed him.
---
At the moment the Third Class barracks have an excess of rooms, so Kunsel really didn’t see why Zack has to share his.
“Look, I’m not used to sleeping alone.”
“Zack, you’re what? Thirteen?”
“Fourteen. And it’s not my fault if I’m used sleeping with Mom and Dad.”
“…”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t go sharing that information if I was you.”
“What’s the problem? We were poor. We only had room for the one bed.”
Zack takes the top bunk and Kunsel has trouble going to sleep with the bizarre presence overtop of him.
---
It’s been nearly a year since he last held his gun and the firing range is all but abandoned. There are only a few Turks with the level of clearance necessary to know of that he’s part of their division. Most just think he was considered for a position, was judged unfit and ended up a SOLDIER instead. It’s a testament to how their job works. Even within their ranks, there are layers upon layers of cloak and dagger.
“I’ve been taking good care of her,” Cissnei says as he strips his gun, checking for any signs of grime or wear.
Her? Since when did guns have genders? Since when did she get to decide his gun was a girl?
She smiles at his expression and pulls her own piece out from its holster. “Girls are the deadlier sex after all,” she states in a manner with which one says that water is wet.
His gun is in perfect working order and he raises an eyebrow at her. “I thought you preferred your shuriken.”
“It’s more effective on monsters.”
“Depends what kind of monster you’re hunting,” Kunsel replies and he wonders whether she’s a better shot than his last partner.
---
Zack hates fire arms practice. He looks at his rifle lying in front of him with an expression of a little kid examining the brussel sprouts on his plate and finding them less than appetizing. He’s hardly the only one. Even with protection, the noise of the shots is hard on the SOLDIERs’ sensitive ears.
Kunsel can’t say he’s particularly thrilled either. These guns are big, powerful clumsy things in comparison to his sleek and precise gun. It’s a perfect analogy to the irreconcilable differences between SOLDIER and the Turks. SOLDIER for all their strength lack any subtlety or restraint whereas the Turks specialize on walking upon the razor’s edge.
“I mean I get that it’s a good idea that we know how to use guns and everything. I mean we do go on missions with troopers and everybody in Gongaga had a shotgun ‘cause the gagighandi could get really rowdy in the winter but… I don’t know, Kunsel. I just don’t know,” says Zack, shaking his head. “Do we really need this much training? I mean I know sometimes you got to kill to survive or to help people. I get it. I even think it’s okay to be proud of it. But if you can fight like we can, don’t we owe it to the monsters to do it personally? To look them in the eye and acknowledge what we’re doing?”
“They’re only monsters, Zack.”
“Yeah, but to them… aren’t we?”
---
The next meeting with Cissnei, they discuss SOLDIER in depth. Loyalties. Promotions. Rumours. Friendships.
To be a SOLDIER is simply an enhanced body, no more special than fancy armour. To be a Turk is possess a certain mindset and whether one wears a suit of cloth or metal, it can not be changed nor ignored.
This is one of many irreconcilable differences between the Turks and SOLDIER.
---
“Come on, Kunsel. You’re never going to get a girl with that thing on your head all the time.”
“I like my helmet. It covers my behemoth-sized ears.” He likes the privacy and distance it gives him. He doesn’t have to guard every aspect of his facial expressions all the time.
“Your ears are nowhere near that big. I’ve seen you in the shower. You’re fine.”
“Thanks Zack. I feel so much better.” It’s moments likes these when Kunsel appreciates the ability to roll his eyes without being noticed. “Anyways, you never wear your helmet and you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You’ve asked out every girl in the building. You’re lucky Scarlet didn’t have you fired, let alone threaten to execute you… and what about that girl - Margery, wasn’t that her name?”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Didn’t notice what? The really ripped arms?”
“I like a girl who works out.”
“The stubble?”
“She wouldn’t be the first lady.”
“The fact she mentioned she worked part-time at that gym in Sector Six?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter one way or another… she said no anyways, but she was really nice about it when she explained everything. She even gave me a free discount card. I figure I’ll go next day I have off and say hi.”
It struck Kunsel then that Zack seemed genuinely unperturbed. Most country people got bothered out by many of the atypical types found in the city. Zack just took it all in stride. Always.
“Okay, if girls won’t get you to take that thing off, what about boys? I’m sure if I talk to Margery, she can…”
“Zack!”
---
“Sorry I’m late, Cissnei. Zack keeps on hiding my helmet and now he’s convinced Luxiere to get in on it too.” He probably could just come to the meeting without it but it’s become a point of pride.
“He takes up a lot of your time. Should I be jealous?”
“Well considering Zack is currently convinced that I’m gay…”
“…I’ll console myself to belief that I never had a chance,” she finishes.
She doesn’t even try to hide the amusement dancing in her eyes.
“You know,” she says, “I hear that Reeve prefers men. He’s a good guy. I could set you up.” It’s the sort of thing Zack would say. No regard for different ranks or age. He’d just see them as two people.
The difference is that Zack would mean it.
---
“Whatever you do, Kunsel, don’t- DON’T go to the extra practice sessions with Angeal!”
“What happened?”
“He’s gone crazy. He made us do those arm exercises where we grab up to the bar and pull ourselves up and-”
“Pull-ups, Zack. They’re called pull-ups.”
“Yeah, those things but this time he made us do them with like a million pounds strapped on and then he went and sicked Genesis on us who attacked us and sent fire at this (I swear my hair will never be the same again) and I swear Genesis was trying to kill us all-”
“I seriously doubt he’d try to do that, Zack.”
“-and Angeal just stood there the entire time and just watched and now I’m completely exhausted and I’ve bruises on my toenails and-”
“That’s biologically impossible, Zack. You can get bruises under your toenails but… I really don’t need a visual aid, Zack… please……. Zack!…… Zack! ……… Okay! I believe you, alright? I believe you! Now if you’ll just get your foot away from my… Thank you.”
“Well, what do you think we should do? Angeal has gone insane! We need to tell someone.”
“No, we don’t.”
“But…”
“He’s just looking for a new apprentice. He doesn’t like to do official auditions so he does them in his practice sessions instead… Hey! What are you doing? I thought you said you were exhausted.”
“Squats. I’ve got a lot of work to do before the next session.”
---
“Did you hear the good news?” Cissnei asks.
“No.” But he’s afraid he already knows the answer.
“Angeal’s picked your friend to be his student.”
“That’s good. Fair is known to be trustworthy. It will be good to have someone like that rise in the ranks.”
Cissnei looks for some further reaction and seems disappointed when she sees none.
---
He shouldn’t have mentioned the information concerning Angeal. There was no way that Sergeant Kunsel, SOLDIER of the Shinra Electric Company, should know that kind of information. Only the higher ranks of the department knew that Angeal was searching and the Firsts, while often dramatic, are not known for spilling each other’s secrets. If Kunsel the Turk had done his job, Zack… Fair would never have returned to the practice sessions. Would never have been found by Angeal.
Sloppy. And he’s about to get sloppier.
He’s reading a letter from Fair’s parents. They are nice, outgoing folks, a lot like their son, and are as eager to write to their son’s friends as they are to write to Fair himself. Halfway through, Kunsel catches a reference that makes something inside himself snap.
“Your bed,” he says to Fair with a voice that could freeze molten iron.
“What?”
“Your parents said they were renting out your bed to visitor.”
“Yes, what about that?”
“You said that didn’t have a bed of your own. You said that you were used to sharing.” This entire thing seems utterly ridiculous even to his own ears. It’s such a small thing to lose control about. They’re Second Class SOLDIERs now and the days of sharing a room are long gone. But for reason unknown to him, he will not, cannot let this go.
“Wait a sec, Kun-”
“You lied, Fair.”
“Hey. Hey! Calm down, Kunsel. Just let me explain, alright? My bed could barely be called a cot and was even in the same room as Mom and Dad’s and during the winter, when things got really cold and the energy prices got high, we shared. That’s what happened. That’s all.”
“Then why didn’t you just say so?”
“Well…”
“Did you do it so I’d feel bad for you? So I’d feel obliged to let you stay in the same room as me? So I’d have to spend time with you?”
“Maybe a little.”
That isn’t the answer he’d wanted to hear. Tightly bunched fists fall limp at his sides and all Kunsel can do is let out a croaked, “Why?”
“Honestly, Kunsel?” Zack says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You seemed kind of lonely.”
---
A few months later, Genesis and a large number of SOLDIERs have gone missing. Officially they’re missing presumed dead. When the Turks, the people that Kunsel belongs with, send operatives to investigate and them don’t come back, the unofficial line becomes they’ve deserted presumed mutinying.
Needless to say he and Cissnei and the rest of the Turks are run ragged. Cissnei spends more time flying from one place to another to interrogate possible witnesses than she does on the ground and Kunsel ‘hangs out’ with various SOLDIERs trying to drain any drop of useful information about the deserters. There’s rumour going around that Tseng’s taken to sleeping in his office which is, knowing Tseng, more than likely. It’s thankless work for all of them, considering the only interesting scraps of information leads to the Science Department and their work tends to be restricted even to Turk eyes.
The few times Kunsel sees his partner, their talk is all work with little room for jokes, gossip or pleasantries. The one thing marring the all-business atmosphere is the coffee. Cissnei knows how he likes his and somewhere down the line, he managed to figure out how she likes hers. They always make sure the other has a cup and it’s the closest thing to a courtesy that passes between them.
---
It’s been a while since he's last seen Zack and thus when Kunsel wanders into the common area, he’s glad to see that the other man’s obsession with squats is as healthy as ever. Though he’s concerned to note that right now it’s much more fervent than normal.
“Hey Zack, you seem a little on edge,” Kunsel says.
“Can you blame me? All this training and no assignments,” Zack grumbles. Apparently Angeal still believes in training regimes from hell. “Like they’re hanging me out to dry. You must be pretty busy with everybody off-base.” A note of envy tingeing the sound of his panting for air.
It takes Kunsel moment to process this. He didn’t know? He really didn’t know? “Off-base? Wait, haven’t you heard? There’s been a mass desertion in SOLDIER.”
He doesn’t get much of a chance to elaborate before Angeal comes to take Zack off on a mission. But even hours later, the lack of knowledge on Zack’s part eats at Kunsel. It isn’t like the information was that much of a secret. He’d be surprised if half of Midgar hadn’t heard about it already. Unfortunately that was Zack all over, wasn’t it? He lived in the now, making every moment count and trusting that the future would work itself out.
---
Angeal is missing, Banora no longer exists and the foyer of the Shinra building, due to some hasty remodelling, can now be used as a twenty-car garage. Apparently he was wrong and Zack was right, Genesis is trying to kill them all. Kunsel would apologize if he could find the time. Between both his official and unofficial duties, he’s getting about three hours a night.
It’s all he can do to keep on sending the messages - little cheerful texts that contain tidbits of information that will hopefully keeps Zack out of too much trouble, as impossible as the task may seem. He gave Zack a PHS as a gift when he was promoted to First and Kunsel hopes the modifications he’s made to it will keep out prying eyes.
“I met Zack a couple days ago,” Cissnei says as she scans one of his reports.
“Oh?”
“Yes, he bailed me out from a Genesis copy.”
“What happened to girls being the deadlier sex?”
Cissnei’s only response was to stick her tongue out.
“The feared Turks… if only they could see us now. With me on the verge of falling asleep with my eyes open and you behaving like a six year-old girl.”
She snorts and pushes a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “Honestly now, I get what you see in him.”
“Don’t get any ideas. He says he’s met someone.”
“Yes, I know. He’s seeing Aeris.”
The Ancient? Not again… How did Zack do it? Did his crazy hair act as a lightning rod for all the weirdest problems on the Planet?
“I’d be insane to do that,” Cissnei continues. “If I ended up hurting her in any way, Tseng would murder me… Besides, Zack seems like he’d make a good friend.”
“The best.” There is little point in denying it anymore. She would have to be a moron not to figure it out by now. He was a moron to deny it to himself in the first place.
“I think Tseng is impressed by him too. After the Banora incident he mentioned that Zack inquired about why Shinra was so interested in such a little village with its only significant feature seeming to be apples. He said this before seeing the research facility. I don’t think Tseng was expecting that sort of insight from him.”
Ice creeps up Kunsel’s limbs, but he manages to restrain any movement out of the ordinary. “Zack’s smarter than he seems,” he says casually. Zack is hardly dumb, but he wouldn’t normally notice something like that, not unless an overly-attached co-worker suggested it.
Kunsel glances sideways at her, trusting the visor of his helmet to shield the look. Cissnei’s eyes are still firmly attached to the report. He can’t tell if this is a genuine off-hand comment or a warning.
---
Angeal isn’t missing anymore. He’s dead instead and so Kunsel makes time to visit Zack.
Genesis is believed to still be out there and so by ‘making time’ Kunsel really means by ‘skipping one of his assignments’. Tseng may end up wanting his head, but the way things are going Tseng will probably want his head anyways, so Kunsel figures he might as well make good use of it while it’s still attached.
He enters Zack’s room and sees the Buster Sword lying on the bed and the figure sitting next to it.
“Hey there,” he asks, “mind if I join you?”
---
Kunsel’s not quite sure how trying to make Zack feel better turned into him going on a blind date. He’s not quite sure how Zack managed to get a table at Ripples on a Friday night either. Or how Zack managed to figure out his suit size when Kunsel himself has forgotten. But Zack’s always been a bit of an alien creature when it comes to some things. So somewhere down the line, one’s just got to classify him as a force of nature and leave it there.
On the brighter side of things, Margery has managed to convince Zack that he’s ‘mostly’ heterosexual. Though after further thought, this may not be so much of a blessing given that he’ll have to explain to whatever girl shows up why he doesn’t have time for romance.
He waits for a while, shifting uneasily in his seat. It’s been ages since he’s been out of uniform and he feels practically naked, the suit seems too airy and he already misses the weight of his helmet.
“Freckles… I never would have guessed. Your official photo doesn’t do them justice.”
Kunsel sceptically looks up at the woman who had spoken. “And I never figured you for the sort of girl who wears pink.”
Cissnei settles into the opposite seat. “Zack got us, didn’t he?”
“He does that.”
They start laughing and don’t stop until the manager kicks them out.
---
“I’ve checked the forecast and it says it’s supposed to be pretty good weather there for this time of year, but don’t take it for granted, alright? Even SOLDIERs can get hypothermia.”
“Yeesh Kunsel, you told me this all yesterday. Twice.”
“I know but-”
“Look, I appreciate it, Kunsel. I really do. Ever since… ever since Angeal died, everyone has been looking out for me. You, Aeris, Cloud are all awesome. I’m not great yet but I am getting there though I could use a bit of a break from all the help.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s good. Don’t worry too much. Cloud’s going to be coming with me and I’m sure he’ll do all the nannying for you, and Sephiroth’s coming too. I’m sure he’ll bail me out if I do anything too stupid.”
“I relent. You’ll be fine.”
“Great. Now I need to take care of you for a change. So when are you and Cissnei going on your second date?”
“Never.”
“What? Why? You’re both into the fighting and listening to gossip. It’s a match made in heaven.”
“Only you would call what the Turks do ‘listening to gossip’.”
“It’s close enough.”
“No, it isn’t. I know you, Zack. You like to see how people are similar and not how they’re different. It’s one of the things I love about you. But SOLDIERs and Turks? There’s simply not enough common ground.”
“There’s only one ground, Kunsel, and we all stand on it.”
“Don’t be difficult. You know what I mean. You simply can’t rely on Turks. You can’t tell what they’re doing is because they want to or because it’s part of the job.”
“Then I’ll treat them based on what they do, like I do with everyone else.”
“And what if the job requires them to betray you? - hurt you?”
“Then I’ll protect myself.”
“And what if you don’t have time to?”
“Look, if you don’t what to date her - fine - but I’m not going to spend my days worrying what she might do. Cissnei is a good person and she’s my friend. I don’t care if she’s a Turk, okay?”
“…nevermind.”
“Good. Now stop being an idiot. That’s my job.”
“Though there is one more thing.”
“Kunsel…”
“It’s nothing like that. I just heard this rumour about this thing there called ‘The Seven Wonders of the World’. I figure if you get bored while you’re there, you can look into it.”
“Cool! You always come up with this kind of stuff. Where do you get it all from?”
“I… Can you just have faith in me, Zack?”
“Always.”
---
It’s night time, and Kunsel notices the scent before he enters his room. It doesn’t belong there and grasping the hilt of the broadsword of his back, draws it, then enters.
When he sees the Turk in the shadows, he drops the sword immediately. It was bound to happen eventually. He’s not a bad operative, and does his best to cover his tracks. Nonetheless all his tricks are ones which the company taught him and so he promised himself that when the time came, he would face it with dignity and not fight.
“It’s been a long time, sir,” he says.
Tseng gave him a curt nod in return. “Yes, it has. You seem to be doing well for yourself.”
"Thank you, sir," he says. "So what happens next?" He would rather this be over with sooner rather than later.
“Pardon me? Have you already heard?” There some strange about seeing, something as human as confusion on Tseng’s statuesque features.
“About what?”
---
He should go visit Aeris. Be the best friend by breaking the news to the girl friend. It would be the right thing to do, but that would mean believing it. Zack can’t be dead.
---
Luxiere is concerned about him and keeps on showing up, dragging him on various excursions, each crazier than the last, all of them a pale parody of what Zack would do. Nonetheless Kunsel’s obliged to respond and thus pretends to mourn Zack before eventually seemingly recovering.
He occasionally sees Cissnei. Their meetings have never been exactly frequent. Nevertheless in the last while, it verges on almost never. Kunsel is not sure if she’s avoiding him or if he’s avoiding her.
He job is all that remains, so he plays the part of Kunsel, SOLDIER Second Class, to the hilt and finds himself promoted to First. In his more whimsical moments he used to wonder whether he had what it took to make it to the top. Zack had always been convinced that he did, always trying to drag off to extra practice or make him do another two hundred squats. Still, he’s vaguely surprised that Tseng allowed him to get the position. Firsts are constantly under the public eye and almost always busy, but maybe Tseng thinks the extra contacts and respect could be a benefit. Maybe he genuinely earned it.
Maybe it’s a reward for keeping his mouth shut.
---
Two samples escape from Hojo’s Nibelheim lab.
It doesn’t mean anything. Kunsel knows better than to think otherwise. He knows they have been other survivors from the village and none of those turned out to be Zack. ‘Survivors’ being a relative term as Shinra wanted no witnesses and were perfectly willing to take the villagers who escaped the fire and give them to Hojo’s frying pan.
Knowing Zack, he would’ve died fighting Sephiroth or dragging people out burning buildings. The escapees could be anyone. They could be Sephiroth himself and some random villager for all he knows. The alternative where Zack survived - what it means that he would’ve gone through at Hojo’s hands - is too horrifying to contemplate.
He does it anyway, then pulls out his PHS and sends off a message, not knowing whether he wants a response or not.
---
The meeting room is filled with Turks: Tseng, Reno, Rude, Cissnei, Kunsel and a few others.
Tseng sits at the head of the table and guarded beneath his steepled-fingers is a box full of letters. “As a few of you suspected,” he says, “and others of you knew. One of the ‘samples’ that has escaped from the Science Department’s Nibelheim facility is none other than SOLDIER First Class Zack Fair who was reported dead approximately four years ago,” Tseng says, his tone perfectly expressionless. “As many of you know, the runner of the facility, Professor Hojo has one the highest security clearances in the company. In recent times, we have come to believe that he has been hiding certain aspects of his research not only from the Turks but from the President himself. This is troubling.
“It is believed that Fair and the other ‘sample’ may have witnessed some incriminating things during their stay in the facility which would be useful. The difficulty is that the Shinra army is currently pursuing them and that by asking General Heidegger to ease up or cancel the search, we would most likely alert Hojo. Therefore we must find them first.
“Two days ago, Cissnei managed to track them down and failed to retrieve them. Twice.” Tseng spares her a long, firm gaze. What it exactly means about her, Kunsel isn’t sure. “Nonetheless, I understand that the encounter ended on amiable terms. Correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Cissnei replies.
“Good. Then I am counting on you to retrieve them the next time. As for the rest of you, you are to use every resource you have, every rumour, every whisper, everything you can to find Zack Fair. Understood? ... Dismissed.”
Kunsel has to force himself not to react, to get up out of the chair and walk out of the room without a single hitch.
He’s alive.
---
Kunsel feels oddly exhilarated.
Not because he because of Tseng. Oh, he believes that Hojo is likely up to something and that the Turk wants to find out what it is. Tseng has a sentimental streak, however it isn’t a particularly deep one, and Kunsel finds it interesting that Tseng never mentioned what would happen to Zack after they interrogated him. Zack had seen the nastiest part of company’s underbelly, a place where only Turks and Shinra executives are allowed to live.
No, Tseng gives Kunsel no comfort at all. What does give him comfort is that he knows what to do next.
He’s going to get them out of here. His brain seems on fire with ideas and plans; for a moment he almost forgets to send Zack another message.
They’ll need camping supplies and food and transportation for a minimum of four people because of the other escapee and Zack will probably want to bring Aeris along… medical supplies and money too. They’ll leave Shinra forever and somewhere far away, start anew. And Kunsel will protect them.
It will all be alright.
It will all be alright.
---
Zack is dead. Cissnei didn’t believe it the first time and can’t quite believe it now. If she hadn’t seen the evidence for herself, she doubts she’d be able to do that much.
She arrives back at her place soaked to the bone. The shine of the shuriken strapped to her back is dulled by encrusted mud, so much like the milkiness encroaching on the once bright blue of his eyes. Divesting herself of her clothes, they fall to the floor with an audible slap and she steps into her shower. The water is scorching nonetheless she doesn’t flinch from it, instead entering deeper into the stream, trying to spark some hint of warmth within her and scour the scent of blood from his nostrils.
This shouldn’t matter so much to her. It would hardly been the first time she’s lost someone. When her parents died, she had discovered the universal constant: people lived and people died and that was how it always would be. But with Zack, his life had seemed like a brilliant rainbow-coloured corridor with crazy twists and turns. The exit a tiny pinprick in the distance.
Eventually the water turns cold. She towels off and then, after dressing, tours her apartment, her feet skimming smoothly over her woollen carpet. The pristine kitchen with stainless-steel appliances that one could their face in, the unstained upholstery of the living room furniture and the warm beige, red and brown tones of the guest bedroom that no one has ever used - all of it - seemed to stare back at her, accusingly. So she turns out the lights, walks out the door and locks it behind her.
---
The road to the Sector Seven Slums is not a good place for a woman at night. Turks are offered a degree of safety but that meager protection is stripped away as she’s not wearing her suit. She keeps some small throwing stars up her sleeves, but fighting draws attention. Instead she wears too-big rags to hide her curves, and has smeared her entire body in dirt and garbage with her hair is braided and stuffed under a cap; thus, with any luck, she looks and smells like one of many boys living on the streets.
It’s vaguely annoying that she cleaned up only to end up like this less than an hour later but it’s necessary. Cissnei has been doing her best to keep tabs on her partner. However if she can track him down, so can another one of the Turks and she doesn’t need to give them any help. Even then she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Tseng knows everything and all of this is pointless, and she and Kunsel will end up in a ditch somewhere.
When she reaches her destination, a small abandoned warehouse, she easily picks the lock - not too surprising as quality locks in the Slums imply something worthwhile stealing, drawing more thieves than flies to rotten meat. She slips in and assesses her surroundings. There are two black chocobos tied up in the corner with their packs brimming with supplies and despite herself, she takes a moment to admire their wings, glossy, magnificent perfection. Then she sees Kunsel.
He’s sitting at a rickety table in the corner, a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey in front of him. His back is turned to her.
“Kunsel, I-” she begins.
“You don’t need to say anything. I know already. I heard it already over the radio. They’re bragging about it. Congratulating the bastards who did it. ‘Shinra army fearlessly defends the citizens of Midgar from insane ex-SOLDIER.’ Funny how they never called Sephiroth that.”
He stands and slowly moves to face her. He’s not wearing his helmet and from the sunken depths of eyes, two points burn blue.
“Why are you here?” The bitterness in his voice lies between them like a piece of rotten fruit.
She wishes she could read him better. She has worked with other Turks, but he’s her first and only partner. It means something to her. All this time, she’s worked with him, exchanging the occasional joke with him, learning bits and pieces about him. Nevertheless, it all adds up to nothing but trivia. Nearly eight years and they’re little more than acquaintances on good terms.
Maybe that’s why she first sought Zack out. Curiosity and a shameful bit of jealousy about this person who had her partner so infatuated. She’d been more than slightly surprised to find herself doing the exactly the same thing.
Once you joined the Department of ‘Administrative Research’, being a Turk took over your life. Your friends were Turks. Your lovers were Turks. On the unusual occasion that a Turk wanted to get married or have kids, his or her partner was, inevitably, a Turk. They became everything to you.
Outsiders were not to be trusted and successful relationships with them were rare. Most people were terrified of them. The others? Some of them saw it as a way to get insider information or a way being protected from the company. Others saw being friends with or dating a Turk as a status symbol or a thrill ride. Others still saw it as a way of getting revenge. It wasn’t unheard of to find a Turk in their bed with a knife through their back.
Zack had seemed like a bit of a novelty, too good to be true. She had spent a good while waiting for him to ask for a tidbit of top secret information or the like. It never happened and somewhere down the line, she stopped waiting for it. Later, after his escape, when she had tracked him down, they had been on the verge of killing each other before she decided to call the all-clear to the search party. And he had let her go.
There had been nothing to stop her from calling the rest of Shinra’s forces the moment he was out of hearing distance. A Turk would’ve let her sound the all-clear and then, at the very least, break her phone. Utter blind faith in her and among her own, almost unheard of.
So when Kunsel asks his question, she answers honestly. “Because you’re my partner… and because you were his friend.”
---
Kunsel is angry. To say this now? After all that had happened? After all this time? As if it changed anything? Anything at all? No matter what she says Zack’s dead and…
The words still means something to him.
Here he is surrounded by the echoes of his hopes for the future. The supplies. The chocobos. The beginnings of what was supposed to be a better life with people he trusted. Free from all the lies and corruption of Shinra and all it means. He had wanted that life very, very badly and he still does. It’s strange. He’d been so sure that dream would die when Zack did, but the dream is still there and it’s growing ever stronger.
Kunsel looks at Cissnei. Twice she had failed to capture Zack and he finds himself remembering his last partner, the scar on his chest and all those years wondering why Marcus had failed to kill him.
“You were Zack’s friend too,” Kunsel finally says to her, and reaching out a hand, gives her a smile, letting her see the offer therein.
He was, is and always will be Zack’s friend.
She takes his hand and they leave.
---
The stars steer our journeys.
Need it matter whether they are near or far?
Big or small?
Blue or yellow, or red or white?
For even one though flame gone may,
With gracious and well-travelled light,
Gently guide us home.
---
There’s a status quo at Shinra with little room for deviation. Troopers don’t like SOLDIERs and SOLDIERs don’t like troopers.
Nobody likes the Turks.
When it turns out that his partner is providing information to Shinra rivals, Kunsel confronts him.
Two minutes later, Kunsel is lying on his back bleeding from a bullet wound in his chest.
At that point it occurs to him the sentiment may be justified.
---
“Rude informs me you have a talent with swords,” Tseng says to him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Would you be willing to pursue your ability?”
“Sir?”
“The newest division of the army, SOLDIER, is quickly accumulating a great deal of power. Many of the company’s best and brightest recruits are being funnelled into them. It is felt in some quarters that this new development should be closely monitored… At this point in time, you are still young enough to enter and there is little to link you to us.”
There’s no actual question in this statement, but Kunsel sees it nonetheless and nods, watching the tiny figure wavering in the darkness of his superior’s eyes.
---
He sits in the cafeteria, watching the cadets. Not the other cadets. He’s not really one of them.
The results of the SOLDIER exams are expected any minute and they skitter around like a herd of startled horses, utterly ignoring the rapidly cooling food on their trays. As soon as he gets his regulation helmet, Kunsel intends to put it on and never take it off so he can roll his eyes in privacy. It’s almost unthinkable that anybody who wants to be in the army would do such a thing. A soldier - a true soldier - sleeps when they can, eats when they can, taking nothing for granted whatever the circumstances.
Admittedly his place is ensured anyways so there is nothing to worry about so he sits a little ways away, playing the part of the calm cadet. People tend to respond well to such behaviour and it could come in handy later on if he was remembered as the confident one.
“Hey there, mind if I join you?”
He looks up into bristly black hair and a too-wide smile and sees his future.
---
His new partner Cissnei is only recently assigned to him. She watches the SOLDIERs from the outsider end of things, frequently ‘running into’ them and occasionally outright interrogating them. It gives them an excuse to debrief him and pass along orders but the meetings are rare to avoid seeming out of the ordinary.
He knows she’s older than she looks and specializes covert-ops. He knows little else.
---
The room used for the SOLDIER treatments contains machinery which gives off a dull hum not unlike the sound of a insect’s wings. It’s appropriate considering the manner with which the Science Department man it. They buzz around the chamber, all dressed in uniform white coats, and treating their subjects with little in the way of human courtesies.
The room also contains massive tubes of glass, their interiors marred by scabs of crystallised mako and deep scratches.
Kunsel says nothing as Zack enters one without a second thought.
---
“Ugh.” He flops into one of the many chairs. Nobody ever mentioned this part of the transformation, the utter exhaustion.
Cissnei is already pouring him a cup of coffee. It’s the Da Chao Mountain blend, and its stands out the palette of his nose, spicy and smooth, among the lemon citrus of the cleaner used on the floors, the fuzzy ozone of the computers and even the chemicals of Cissnei’s deodorant. It’s his favourite and freshly brewed too. He can tell. Even all the way on the other side of the room, he can tell.
The scent may be utter heaven, but the moment he sips it, all he can taste is bitter. Enhanced senses. Great.
He’s about to grab the cream and sugar, only to realise that Cissnei is already passing it.
“You’re going to get fat if you keep drinking stuff like that,” she says lightly as he dumps about half the contents of the sugar bowl and most of the cream into his mug. “It would be a first for a SOLDIER and I gather Tseng doesn’t want you to stand out that much.”
“Maybe I’m secretly planning to make a stand against anorexia,” Kunsel grumbles. He takes another sip and glares at his mutinous coffee. Now it was sickeningly sweet. “…or maybe not.”
It strikes him then that she was expecting all these changes. She was already prepared while nobody informed him.
---
At the moment the Third Class barracks have an excess of rooms, so Kunsel really didn’t see why Zack has to share his.
“Look, I’m not used to sleeping alone.”
“Zack, you’re what? Thirteen?”
“Fourteen. And it’s not my fault if I’m used sleeping with Mom and Dad.”
“…”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t go sharing that information if I was you.”
“What’s the problem? We were poor. We only had room for the one bed.”
Zack takes the top bunk and Kunsel has trouble going to sleep with the bizarre presence overtop of him.
---
It’s been nearly a year since he last held his gun and the firing range is all but abandoned. There are only a few Turks with the level of clearance necessary to know of that he’s part of their division. Most just think he was considered for a position, was judged unfit and ended up a SOLDIER instead. It’s a testament to how their job works. Even within their ranks, there are layers upon layers of cloak and dagger.
“I’ve been taking good care of her,” Cissnei says as he strips his gun, checking for any signs of grime or wear.
Her? Since when did guns have genders? Since when did she get to decide his gun was a girl?
She smiles at his expression and pulls her own piece out from its holster. “Girls are the deadlier sex after all,” she states in a manner with which one says that water is wet.
His gun is in perfect working order and he raises an eyebrow at her. “I thought you preferred your shuriken.”
“It’s more effective on monsters.”
“Depends what kind of monster you’re hunting,” Kunsel replies and he wonders whether she’s a better shot than his last partner.
---
Zack hates fire arms practice. He looks at his rifle lying in front of him with an expression of a little kid examining the brussel sprouts on his plate and finding them less than appetizing. He’s hardly the only one. Even with protection, the noise of the shots is hard on the SOLDIERs’ sensitive ears.
Kunsel can’t say he’s particularly thrilled either. These guns are big, powerful clumsy things in comparison to his sleek and precise gun. It’s a perfect analogy to the irreconcilable differences between SOLDIER and the Turks. SOLDIER for all their strength lack any subtlety or restraint whereas the Turks specialize on walking upon the razor’s edge.
“I mean I get that it’s a good idea that we know how to use guns and everything. I mean we do go on missions with troopers and everybody in Gongaga had a shotgun ‘cause the gagighandi could get really rowdy in the winter but… I don’t know, Kunsel. I just don’t know,” says Zack, shaking his head. “Do we really need this much training? I mean I know sometimes you got to kill to survive or to help people. I get it. I even think it’s okay to be proud of it. But if you can fight like we can, don’t we owe it to the monsters to do it personally? To look them in the eye and acknowledge what we’re doing?”
“They’re only monsters, Zack.”
“Yeah, but to them… aren’t we?”
---
The next meeting with Cissnei, they discuss SOLDIER in depth. Loyalties. Promotions. Rumours. Friendships.
To be a SOLDIER is simply an enhanced body, no more special than fancy armour. To be a Turk is possess a certain mindset and whether one wears a suit of cloth or metal, it can not be changed nor ignored.
This is one of many irreconcilable differences between the Turks and SOLDIER.
---
“Come on, Kunsel. You’re never going to get a girl with that thing on your head all the time.”
“I like my helmet. It covers my behemoth-sized ears.” He likes the privacy and distance it gives him. He doesn’t have to guard every aspect of his facial expressions all the time.
“Your ears are nowhere near that big. I’ve seen you in the shower. You’re fine.”
“Thanks Zack. I feel so much better.” It’s moments likes these when Kunsel appreciates the ability to roll his eyes without being noticed. “Anyways, you never wear your helmet and you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You’ve asked out every girl in the building. You’re lucky Scarlet didn’t have you fired, let alone threaten to execute you… and what about that girl - Margery, wasn’t that her name?”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Didn’t notice what? The really ripped arms?”
“I like a girl who works out.”
“The stubble?”
“She wouldn’t be the first lady.”
“The fact she mentioned she worked part-time at that gym in Sector Six?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter one way or another… she said no anyways, but she was really nice about it when she explained everything. She even gave me a free discount card. I figure I’ll go next day I have off and say hi.”
It struck Kunsel then that Zack seemed genuinely unperturbed. Most country people got bothered out by many of the atypical types found in the city. Zack just took it all in stride. Always.
“Okay, if girls won’t get you to take that thing off, what about boys? I’m sure if I talk to Margery, she can…”
“Zack!”
---
“Sorry I’m late, Cissnei. Zack keeps on hiding my helmet and now he’s convinced Luxiere to get in on it too.” He probably could just come to the meeting without it but it’s become a point of pride.
“He takes up a lot of your time. Should I be jealous?”
“Well considering Zack is currently convinced that I’m gay…”
“…I’ll console myself to belief that I never had a chance,” she finishes.
She doesn’t even try to hide the amusement dancing in her eyes.
“You know,” she says, “I hear that Reeve prefers men. He’s a good guy. I could set you up.” It’s the sort of thing Zack would say. No regard for different ranks or age. He’d just see them as two people.
The difference is that Zack would mean it.
---
“Whatever you do, Kunsel, don’t- DON’T go to the extra practice sessions with Angeal!”
“What happened?”
“He’s gone crazy. He made us do those arm exercises where we grab up to the bar and pull ourselves up and-”
“Pull-ups, Zack. They’re called pull-ups.”
“Yeah, those things but this time he made us do them with like a million pounds strapped on and then he went and sicked Genesis on us who attacked us and sent fire at this (I swear my hair will never be the same again) and I swear Genesis was trying to kill us all-”
“I seriously doubt he’d try to do that, Zack.”
“-and Angeal just stood there the entire time and just watched and now I’m completely exhausted and I’ve bruises on my toenails and-”
“That’s biologically impossible, Zack. You can get bruises under your toenails but… I really don’t need a visual aid, Zack… please……. Zack!…… Zack! ……… Okay! I believe you, alright? I believe you! Now if you’ll just get your foot away from my… Thank you.”
“Well, what do you think we should do? Angeal has gone insane! We need to tell someone.”
“No, we don’t.”
“But…”
“He’s just looking for a new apprentice. He doesn’t like to do official auditions so he does them in his practice sessions instead… Hey! What are you doing? I thought you said you were exhausted.”
“Squats. I’ve got a lot of work to do before the next session.”
---
“Did you hear the good news?” Cissnei asks.
“No.” But he’s afraid he already knows the answer.
“Angeal’s picked your friend to be his student.”
“That’s good. Fair is known to be trustworthy. It will be good to have someone like that rise in the ranks.”
Cissnei looks for some further reaction and seems disappointed when she sees none.
---
He shouldn’t have mentioned the information concerning Angeal. There was no way that Sergeant Kunsel, SOLDIER of the Shinra Electric Company, should know that kind of information. Only the higher ranks of the department knew that Angeal was searching and the Firsts, while often dramatic, are not known for spilling each other’s secrets. If Kunsel the Turk had done his job, Zack… Fair would never have returned to the practice sessions. Would never have been found by Angeal.
Sloppy. And he’s about to get sloppier.
He’s reading a letter from Fair’s parents. They are nice, outgoing folks, a lot like their son, and are as eager to write to their son’s friends as they are to write to Fair himself. Halfway through, Kunsel catches a reference that makes something inside himself snap.
“Your bed,” he says to Fair with a voice that could freeze molten iron.
“What?”
“Your parents said they were renting out your bed to visitor.”
“Yes, what about that?”
“You said that didn’t have a bed of your own. You said that you were used to sharing.” This entire thing seems utterly ridiculous even to his own ears. It’s such a small thing to lose control about. They’re Second Class SOLDIERs now and the days of sharing a room are long gone. But for reason unknown to him, he will not, cannot let this go.
“Wait a sec, Kun-”
“You lied, Fair.”
“Hey. Hey! Calm down, Kunsel. Just let me explain, alright? My bed could barely be called a cot and was even in the same room as Mom and Dad’s and during the winter, when things got really cold and the energy prices got high, we shared. That’s what happened. That’s all.”
“Then why didn’t you just say so?”
“Well…”
“Did you do it so I’d feel bad for you? So I’d feel obliged to let you stay in the same room as me? So I’d have to spend time with you?”
“Maybe a little.”
That isn’t the answer he’d wanted to hear. Tightly bunched fists fall limp at his sides and all Kunsel can do is let out a croaked, “Why?”
“Honestly, Kunsel?” Zack says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You seemed kind of lonely.”
---
A few months later, Genesis and a large number of SOLDIERs have gone missing. Officially they’re missing presumed dead. When the Turks, the people that Kunsel belongs with, send operatives to investigate and them don’t come back, the unofficial line becomes they’ve deserted presumed mutinying.
Needless to say he and Cissnei and the rest of the Turks are run ragged. Cissnei spends more time flying from one place to another to interrogate possible witnesses than she does on the ground and Kunsel ‘hangs out’ with various SOLDIERs trying to drain any drop of useful information about the deserters. There’s rumour going around that Tseng’s taken to sleeping in his office which is, knowing Tseng, more than likely. It’s thankless work for all of them, considering the only interesting scraps of information leads to the Science Department and their work tends to be restricted even to Turk eyes.
The few times Kunsel sees his partner, their talk is all work with little room for jokes, gossip or pleasantries. The one thing marring the all-business atmosphere is the coffee. Cissnei knows how he likes his and somewhere down the line, he managed to figure out how she likes hers. They always make sure the other has a cup and it’s the closest thing to a courtesy that passes between them.
---
It’s been a while since he's last seen Zack and thus when Kunsel wanders into the common area, he’s glad to see that the other man’s obsession with squats is as healthy as ever. Though he’s concerned to note that right now it’s much more fervent than normal.
“Hey Zack, you seem a little on edge,” Kunsel says.
“Can you blame me? All this training and no assignments,” Zack grumbles. Apparently Angeal still believes in training regimes from hell. “Like they’re hanging me out to dry. You must be pretty busy with everybody off-base.” A note of envy tingeing the sound of his panting for air.
It takes Kunsel moment to process this. He didn’t know? He really didn’t know? “Off-base? Wait, haven’t you heard? There’s been a mass desertion in SOLDIER.”
He doesn’t get much of a chance to elaborate before Angeal comes to take Zack off on a mission. But even hours later, the lack of knowledge on Zack’s part eats at Kunsel. It isn’t like the information was that much of a secret. He’d be surprised if half of Midgar hadn’t heard about it already. Unfortunately that was Zack all over, wasn’t it? He lived in the now, making every moment count and trusting that the future would work itself out.
---
Angeal is missing, Banora no longer exists and the foyer of the Shinra building, due to some hasty remodelling, can now be used as a twenty-car garage. Apparently he was wrong and Zack was right, Genesis is trying to kill them all. Kunsel would apologize if he could find the time. Between both his official and unofficial duties, he’s getting about three hours a night.
It’s all he can do to keep on sending the messages - little cheerful texts that contain tidbits of information that will hopefully keeps Zack out of too much trouble, as impossible as the task may seem. He gave Zack a PHS as a gift when he was promoted to First and Kunsel hopes the modifications he’s made to it will keep out prying eyes.
“I met Zack a couple days ago,” Cissnei says as she scans one of his reports.
“Oh?”
“Yes, he bailed me out from a Genesis copy.”
“What happened to girls being the deadlier sex?”
Cissnei’s only response was to stick her tongue out.
“The feared Turks… if only they could see us now. With me on the verge of falling asleep with my eyes open and you behaving like a six year-old girl.”
She snorts and pushes a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “Honestly now, I get what you see in him.”
“Don’t get any ideas. He says he’s met someone.”
“Yes, I know. He’s seeing Aeris.”
The Ancient? Not again… How did Zack do it? Did his crazy hair act as a lightning rod for all the weirdest problems on the Planet?
“I’d be insane to do that,” Cissnei continues. “If I ended up hurting her in any way, Tseng would murder me… Besides, Zack seems like he’d make a good friend.”
“The best.” There is little point in denying it anymore. She would have to be a moron not to figure it out by now. He was a moron to deny it to himself in the first place.
“I think Tseng is impressed by him too. After the Banora incident he mentioned that Zack inquired about why Shinra was so interested in such a little village with its only significant feature seeming to be apples. He said this before seeing the research facility. I don’t think Tseng was expecting that sort of insight from him.”
Ice creeps up Kunsel’s limbs, but he manages to restrain any movement out of the ordinary. “Zack’s smarter than he seems,” he says casually. Zack is hardly dumb, but he wouldn’t normally notice something like that, not unless an overly-attached co-worker suggested it.
Kunsel glances sideways at her, trusting the visor of his helmet to shield the look. Cissnei’s eyes are still firmly attached to the report. He can’t tell if this is a genuine off-hand comment or a warning.
---
Angeal isn’t missing anymore. He’s dead instead and so Kunsel makes time to visit Zack.
Genesis is believed to still be out there and so by ‘making time’ Kunsel really means by ‘skipping one of his assignments’. Tseng may end up wanting his head, but the way things are going Tseng will probably want his head anyways, so Kunsel figures he might as well make good use of it while it’s still attached.
He enters Zack’s room and sees the Buster Sword lying on the bed and the figure sitting next to it.
“Hey there,” he asks, “mind if I join you?”
---
Kunsel’s not quite sure how trying to make Zack feel better turned into him going on a blind date. He’s not quite sure how Zack managed to get a table at Ripples on a Friday night either. Or how Zack managed to figure out his suit size when Kunsel himself has forgotten. But Zack’s always been a bit of an alien creature when it comes to some things. So somewhere down the line, one’s just got to classify him as a force of nature and leave it there.
On the brighter side of things, Margery has managed to convince Zack that he’s ‘mostly’ heterosexual. Though after further thought, this may not be so much of a blessing given that he’ll have to explain to whatever girl shows up why he doesn’t have time for romance.
He waits for a while, shifting uneasily in his seat. It’s been ages since he’s been out of uniform and he feels practically naked, the suit seems too airy and he already misses the weight of his helmet.
“Freckles… I never would have guessed. Your official photo doesn’t do them justice.”
Kunsel sceptically looks up at the woman who had spoken. “And I never figured you for the sort of girl who wears pink.”
Cissnei settles into the opposite seat. “Zack got us, didn’t he?”
“He does that.”
They start laughing and don’t stop until the manager kicks them out.
---
“I’ve checked the forecast and it says it’s supposed to be pretty good weather there for this time of year, but don’t take it for granted, alright? Even SOLDIERs can get hypothermia.”
“Yeesh Kunsel, you told me this all yesterday. Twice.”
“I know but-”
“Look, I appreciate it, Kunsel. I really do. Ever since… ever since Angeal died, everyone has been looking out for me. You, Aeris, Cloud are all awesome. I’m not great yet but I am getting there though I could use a bit of a break from all the help.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s good. Don’t worry too much. Cloud’s going to be coming with me and I’m sure he’ll do all the nannying for you, and Sephiroth’s coming too. I’m sure he’ll bail me out if I do anything too stupid.”
“I relent. You’ll be fine.”
“Great. Now I need to take care of you for a change. So when are you and Cissnei going on your second date?”
“Never.”
“What? Why? You’re both into the fighting and listening to gossip. It’s a match made in heaven.”
“Only you would call what the Turks do ‘listening to gossip’.”
“It’s close enough.”
“No, it isn’t. I know you, Zack. You like to see how people are similar and not how they’re different. It’s one of the things I love about you. But SOLDIERs and Turks? There’s simply not enough common ground.”
“There’s only one ground, Kunsel, and we all stand on it.”
“Don’t be difficult. You know what I mean. You simply can’t rely on Turks. You can’t tell what they’re doing is because they want to or because it’s part of the job.”
“Then I’ll treat them based on what they do, like I do with everyone else.”
“And what if the job requires them to betray you? - hurt you?”
“Then I’ll protect myself.”
“And what if you don’t have time to?”
“Look, if you don’t what to date her - fine - but I’m not going to spend my days worrying what she might do. Cissnei is a good person and she’s my friend. I don’t care if she’s a Turk, okay?”
“…nevermind.”
“Good. Now stop being an idiot. That’s my job.”
“Though there is one more thing.”
“Kunsel…”
“It’s nothing like that. I just heard this rumour about this thing there called ‘The Seven Wonders of the World’. I figure if you get bored while you’re there, you can look into it.”
“Cool! You always come up with this kind of stuff. Where do you get it all from?”
“I… Can you just have faith in me, Zack?”
“Always.”
---
It’s night time, and Kunsel notices the scent before he enters his room. It doesn’t belong there and grasping the hilt of the broadsword of his back, draws it, then enters.
When he sees the Turk in the shadows, he drops the sword immediately. It was bound to happen eventually. He’s not a bad operative, and does his best to cover his tracks. Nonetheless all his tricks are ones which the company taught him and so he promised himself that when the time came, he would face it with dignity and not fight.
“It’s been a long time, sir,” he says.
Tseng gave him a curt nod in return. “Yes, it has. You seem to be doing well for yourself.”
"Thank you, sir," he says. "So what happens next?" He would rather this be over with sooner rather than later.
“Pardon me? Have you already heard?” There some strange about seeing, something as human as confusion on Tseng’s statuesque features.
“About what?”
---
He should go visit Aeris. Be the best friend by breaking the news to the girl friend. It would be the right thing to do, but that would mean believing it. Zack can’t be dead.
---
Luxiere is concerned about him and keeps on showing up, dragging him on various excursions, each crazier than the last, all of them a pale parody of what Zack would do. Nonetheless Kunsel’s obliged to respond and thus pretends to mourn Zack before eventually seemingly recovering.
He occasionally sees Cissnei. Their meetings have never been exactly frequent. Nevertheless in the last while, it verges on almost never. Kunsel is not sure if she’s avoiding him or if he’s avoiding her.
He job is all that remains, so he plays the part of Kunsel, SOLDIER Second Class, to the hilt and finds himself promoted to First. In his more whimsical moments he used to wonder whether he had what it took to make it to the top. Zack had always been convinced that he did, always trying to drag off to extra practice or make him do another two hundred squats. Still, he’s vaguely surprised that Tseng allowed him to get the position. Firsts are constantly under the public eye and almost always busy, but maybe Tseng thinks the extra contacts and respect could be a benefit. Maybe he genuinely earned it.
Maybe it’s a reward for keeping his mouth shut.
---
Two samples escape from Hojo’s Nibelheim lab.
It doesn’t mean anything. Kunsel knows better than to think otherwise. He knows they have been other survivors from the village and none of those turned out to be Zack. ‘Survivors’ being a relative term as Shinra wanted no witnesses and were perfectly willing to take the villagers who escaped the fire and give them to Hojo’s frying pan.
Knowing Zack, he would’ve died fighting Sephiroth or dragging people out burning buildings. The escapees could be anyone. They could be Sephiroth himself and some random villager for all he knows. The alternative where Zack survived - what it means that he would’ve gone through at Hojo’s hands - is too horrifying to contemplate.
He does it anyway, then pulls out his PHS and sends off a message, not knowing whether he wants a response or not.
---
The meeting room is filled with Turks: Tseng, Reno, Rude, Cissnei, Kunsel and a few others.
Tseng sits at the head of the table and guarded beneath his steepled-fingers is a box full of letters. “As a few of you suspected,” he says, “and others of you knew. One of the ‘samples’ that has escaped from the Science Department’s Nibelheim facility is none other than SOLDIER First Class Zack Fair who was reported dead approximately four years ago,” Tseng says, his tone perfectly expressionless. “As many of you know, the runner of the facility, Professor Hojo has one the highest security clearances in the company. In recent times, we have come to believe that he has been hiding certain aspects of his research not only from the Turks but from the President himself. This is troubling.
“It is believed that Fair and the other ‘sample’ may have witnessed some incriminating things during their stay in the facility which would be useful. The difficulty is that the Shinra army is currently pursuing them and that by asking General Heidegger to ease up or cancel the search, we would most likely alert Hojo. Therefore we must find them first.
“Two days ago, Cissnei managed to track them down and failed to retrieve them. Twice.” Tseng spares her a long, firm gaze. What it exactly means about her, Kunsel isn’t sure. “Nonetheless, I understand that the encounter ended on amiable terms. Correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Cissnei replies.
“Good. Then I am counting on you to retrieve them the next time. As for the rest of you, you are to use every resource you have, every rumour, every whisper, everything you can to find Zack Fair. Understood? ... Dismissed.”
Kunsel has to force himself not to react, to get up out of the chair and walk out of the room without a single hitch.
He’s alive.
---
Kunsel feels oddly exhilarated.
Not because he because of Tseng. Oh, he believes that Hojo is likely up to something and that the Turk wants to find out what it is. Tseng has a sentimental streak, however it isn’t a particularly deep one, and Kunsel finds it interesting that Tseng never mentioned what would happen to Zack after they interrogated him. Zack had seen the nastiest part of company’s underbelly, a place where only Turks and Shinra executives are allowed to live.
No, Tseng gives Kunsel no comfort at all. What does give him comfort is that he knows what to do next.
He’s going to get them out of here. His brain seems on fire with ideas and plans; for a moment he almost forgets to send Zack another message.
They’ll need camping supplies and food and transportation for a minimum of four people because of the other escapee and Zack will probably want to bring Aeris along… medical supplies and money too. They’ll leave Shinra forever and somewhere far away, start anew. And Kunsel will protect them.
It will all be alright.
It will all be alright.
---
Zack is dead. Cissnei didn’t believe it the first time and can’t quite believe it now. If she hadn’t seen the evidence for herself, she doubts she’d be able to do that much.
She arrives back at her place soaked to the bone. The shine of the shuriken strapped to her back is dulled by encrusted mud, so much like the milkiness encroaching on the once bright blue of his eyes. Divesting herself of her clothes, they fall to the floor with an audible slap and she steps into her shower. The water is scorching nonetheless she doesn’t flinch from it, instead entering deeper into the stream, trying to spark some hint of warmth within her and scour the scent of blood from his nostrils.
This shouldn’t matter so much to her. It would hardly been the first time she’s lost someone. When her parents died, she had discovered the universal constant: people lived and people died and that was how it always would be. But with Zack, his life had seemed like a brilliant rainbow-coloured corridor with crazy twists and turns. The exit a tiny pinprick in the distance.
Eventually the water turns cold. She towels off and then, after dressing, tours her apartment, her feet skimming smoothly over her woollen carpet. The pristine kitchen with stainless-steel appliances that one could their face in, the unstained upholstery of the living room furniture and the warm beige, red and brown tones of the guest bedroom that no one has ever used - all of it - seemed to stare back at her, accusingly. So she turns out the lights, walks out the door and locks it behind her.
---
The road to the Sector Seven Slums is not a good place for a woman at night. Turks are offered a degree of safety but that meager protection is stripped away as she’s not wearing her suit. She keeps some small throwing stars up her sleeves, but fighting draws attention. Instead she wears too-big rags to hide her curves, and has smeared her entire body in dirt and garbage with her hair is braided and stuffed under a cap; thus, with any luck, she looks and smells like one of many boys living on the streets.
It’s vaguely annoying that she cleaned up only to end up like this less than an hour later but it’s necessary. Cissnei has been doing her best to keep tabs on her partner. However if she can track him down, so can another one of the Turks and she doesn’t need to give them any help. Even then she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Tseng knows everything and all of this is pointless, and she and Kunsel will end up in a ditch somewhere.
When she reaches her destination, a small abandoned warehouse, she easily picks the lock - not too surprising as quality locks in the Slums imply something worthwhile stealing, drawing more thieves than flies to rotten meat. She slips in and assesses her surroundings. There are two black chocobos tied up in the corner with their packs brimming with supplies and despite herself, she takes a moment to admire their wings, glossy, magnificent perfection. Then she sees Kunsel.
He’s sitting at a rickety table in the corner, a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey in front of him. His back is turned to her.
“Kunsel, I-” she begins.
“You don’t need to say anything. I know already. I heard it already over the radio. They’re bragging about it. Congratulating the bastards who did it. ‘Shinra army fearlessly defends the citizens of Midgar from insane ex-SOLDIER.’ Funny how they never called Sephiroth that.”
He stands and slowly moves to face her. He’s not wearing his helmet and from the sunken depths of eyes, two points burn blue.
“Why are you here?” The bitterness in his voice lies between them like a piece of rotten fruit.
She wishes she could read him better. She has worked with other Turks, but he’s her first and only partner. It means something to her. All this time, she’s worked with him, exchanging the occasional joke with him, learning bits and pieces about him. Nevertheless, it all adds up to nothing but trivia. Nearly eight years and they’re little more than acquaintances on good terms.
Maybe that’s why she first sought Zack out. Curiosity and a shameful bit of jealousy about this person who had her partner so infatuated. She’d been more than slightly surprised to find herself doing the exactly the same thing.
Once you joined the Department of ‘Administrative Research’, being a Turk took over your life. Your friends were Turks. Your lovers were Turks. On the unusual occasion that a Turk wanted to get married or have kids, his or her partner was, inevitably, a Turk. They became everything to you.
Outsiders were not to be trusted and successful relationships with them were rare. Most people were terrified of them. The others? Some of them saw it as a way to get insider information or a way being protected from the company. Others saw being friends with or dating a Turk as a status symbol or a thrill ride. Others still saw it as a way of getting revenge. It wasn’t unheard of to find a Turk in their bed with a knife through their back.
Zack had seemed like a bit of a novelty, too good to be true. She had spent a good while waiting for him to ask for a tidbit of top secret information or the like. It never happened and somewhere down the line, she stopped waiting for it. Later, after his escape, when she had tracked him down, they had been on the verge of killing each other before she decided to call the all-clear to the search party. And he had let her go.
There had been nothing to stop her from calling the rest of Shinra’s forces the moment he was out of hearing distance. A Turk would’ve let her sound the all-clear and then, at the very least, break her phone. Utter blind faith in her and among her own, almost unheard of.
So when Kunsel asks his question, she answers honestly. “Because you’re my partner… and because you were his friend.”
---
Kunsel is angry. To say this now? After all that had happened? After all this time? As if it changed anything? Anything at all? No matter what she says Zack’s dead and…
The words still means something to him.
Here he is surrounded by the echoes of his hopes for the future. The supplies. The chocobos. The beginnings of what was supposed to be a better life with people he trusted. Free from all the lies and corruption of Shinra and all it means. He had wanted that life very, very badly and he still does. It’s strange. He’d been so sure that dream would die when Zack did, but the dream is still there and it’s growing ever stronger.
Kunsel looks at Cissnei. Twice she had failed to capture Zack and he finds himself remembering his last partner, the scar on his chest and all those years wondering why Marcus had failed to kill him.
“You were Zack’s friend too,” Kunsel finally says to her, and reaching out a hand, gives her a smile, letting her see the offer therein.
He was, is and always will be Zack’s friend.
She takes his hand and they leave.
---
The stars steer our journeys.
Need it matter whether they are near or far?
Big or small?
Blue or yellow, or red or white?
For even one though flame gone may,
With gracious and well-travelled light,
Gently guide us home.