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Chapter Text

Prologue:

The turk sat back in the passenger seat, letting an infantryman fly him to the Wutai village. With a cigarette placed between his lips, puffing away, he held his PHS up as he read his mission assignment. “Apprehend the fugitives. Same old same old.” He snapped the flip phone shut, looking at the infantry.

“Well Mr. Dragoon, you are the best at the undercover missions. And besides, you like Wutai.” The young cadet said.

He nodded. “That is true. Guess someone stole the ShinRa secrets yet again.” he said. Veld got comfy, watching the Wutai mountains come into view. Wutai was such a gorgeous place, he wanted to move there with his wife but since he was Director of Administrative Research, he chose to live in Kalm. Kalm was at least close to Midgar unlike Wutai, Wutai further away. “Man I hate fugitives. They get me to do a lot of paperwork after..”

“Sir you do such a great job and plus all your turks love you.” The pilot gave a small smile at him, Veld nodding. “You are one of the best Turks there are. No wonder you are a Director.”

“That is true, that is true.” The turk saw the village come to view, smiling. “Damn this guy is hiding out in a new place. I have never seen this village before.”

“Zahugan.” The pilot said. “It’s the name of the village. With a population of 150, some of the strongest Wutain troops live here. Especially the general, he is insanely strong.”

“Better watch my step then.” Veld laughed. “I’m not even scared. I’ll just do what I do best. Is there a helipad?”

The pilot shakes his head, seeing a field and gently starts to set down. “Just be careful Director, we can’t risk losing you.” He watched Veld move out of the cockpit, grabbing his bag and opening the sliding door, climbing out. “See you soon!”

Veld waved goodbye, starting to walk to the small village. He flipped the PHS opened again, seeing that the fugitives were staking out an abandoned home. “Okay.. simple enough. Just ask the locals about abandoned homes.”

The village was home to many homes, some divided by the bridges over the rivers. Cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, and when the wind picked up, those blossoms made themselves a home in Veld’s swoosh brown hair. He spotted a few pagodas and a warehouse to the west on land, the warehouse looking overgrown and ran down. And the pagoda was eccentric, very fancy.

With his trench coat over his black suit, he felt he didn’t fit in well. First, it was getting hot. Second, he needed a drink and some food. He stopped in his tracks, seeing two small hands tugging at his coat. “Huh? Who goes there?” He moved to look, his coat swishing. Whoever was tugging wasn’t there now. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Damn heat…” he continued walking, reading the signs carefully. “Food… food… food… what is Wutainese for food again?”

“Food.” A small voice picked up. The child spoke Wutainese for food, Veld looking down. “Hello.”

He was adorable. A smile crossed his cheeks. “Hello.” He knelt down, seeing the child wearing traditional clothing, his hakamas covering his sandals. His black hair was choppy and a bit messy, Veld able to see his tilak. “What’s your name?”

“Tseng!” The boy answered, giggling. “Who are you? You are… new.”

“Veld.” The turk replied, picking the child up. “Where are your parents? Do they know you are out here alone?”

“I’m trying to get customers for mama.” Veld’s face lit up. Food. Drink. “Hm?”

“Think you can help one out here? I just got off a long ride here and I’m famished. Ya know hun-“

“Hungry. I know I’m not stupid. I might be six but I’m smart!” He pouts, flicking Veld in the nose. “Sure. Go down this street and go left.”

Veld followed his directions, Tseng playing with the blue studs he had pierced in. “Is it painful?”

“Yea. I screamed and had to be held down,” he answered. “It wasn’t pretty. Ya know Tseng I’m a dangerous guy. Like an assassin.”

“Cool! You aren’t a soldier?”

“No. I’m not SOLDIER.”

“SOLDIER? There is a difference?” The boy tilted his head, one of his choppy bangs going to the side. His big brown eyes were full of confusion, really curious.

He loves how innocent the child was. He wasn’t a corrupt dog of ShinRa. Does he even know of ShinRa? Or that the president has a son his exact age? “Well, SOLDIERs are infused with Mako. They bathe in it and they get some greenish blue to their eyes. Look at mine. See any different colors?” The child shakes his head. “I don’t have mako infusion. I use materia in my gun and some wristlets with materia infused. Very useful.”

“Oh I bet sir!” The child smiled. “So where are you from?”

“I don’t think I’ll tell ya.” Veld teased, stopping in front of a traditional home, the scent of food hitting his nostrils. He set Tseng down, the child running in as he cheered.

The door chimed when Tseng opened it, Veld taking one of the sights. Traditional Wutai culture was up on the walls, the seating matching the traditional style. Low table, pillows for chairs. He nodded, walking to the bar as it was higher, but matching the same pillow style too. And a nice cozy atmosphere made the turk feel at ease and comfortable….

“Mama customer!” He yelled, running over to a woman in her early thirties, black hair pinned up in a bun, strands over her shoulders. She looked up and saw Veld, the turk gently waving to her.

“Hello ma’am.” he greets, going over and taking a seat, sliding his trench coat and bag off, being very respectful. “I assume this Tseng is your son? And this is your canteen?” He sees her nod twice. “Well, mind if I can have a small glass of black tea?”

Tseng sticks his tongue out. “Can I have herbal mama?” He climbs into a chair next to Veld, giggling. Veld smiled, remembering his one year old daughter was home with his wife. The little Wutain looks at Veld, blinking. “Sir can you tell me now?”

“Alright. I’m from Midgar.”

“That big city with all those spire thingies?” the child asks.

His mother on the other hand, her brows furrowed. “Sweetie, those are called reactors. Mako is used to power that city.” She set the tea down in front of the guest and her son, going to take another guest’s order.

Tseng was really curious, looking at Veld. “So mako serves a lot of purposes?” He watched the turk nod. “Wow! So how can you become a SOLDIER?”

The clank of dishes made the heads turn to Tseng’s mother, her looking down at the filthy dishes in her hands. “Tseng.”

“I… yes mama.” He got up and helped her, taking the dishes to the back and emerged, sitting back next to Veld. “Mama says that to me when I’m being too intrusive.”

“Hey that is alright. I never became a SOLDIER so I don’t really know how to apply as one,” he said, sipping his tea. “This is delicious. Thank you ma’am. But anyway, what I am is a secret agent in a way Tseng.”

He watched the child’s eyes lit up. “Like a ninja?!”

“No kiddo. Even though some of my cohorts think they are but they can’t blend in when it’s paperwork time,” he chuckled. “It’s well, let me tell you. I am a Turk.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, looking at Tseng. “We Turks are secret agents. We get missions, we go and we fulfill the mission. And a Turk's main objective is to focus on the mission.”

“Woooooooow.”

“Yes, wow indeed.” He sat back. “Turks do the dirty work. We dirty our own hands. But we also have fun too. My old partner, Vincent, brought a coffin into the office and threw it on the conference table and told our old boss to hop in it’s time to go six feet down.”

Tseng burst into laughter, almost falling off his chair. “That sounds funny!” he giggled, all eyes on him. He quickly regained himself and stared down at his tea, falling silent. Veld raised a brow but didn’t question it.

Once his mother returned, Veld ordered something to eat and Tseng didn’t speak up. The child was mute. “Tseng. You know what you did wrong.”

“I know…” the kid whispered, looking down. “Laughing like that isn’t for public view. It’s for private uhm...” He was praised, but Veld knew he didn’t feel praised. He set a hand on his head, the child not looking at him. So from a happy go lucky kid, laughing at a funny thing Vincent did, to a stricken silent boy? It must be the culture, he said to himself. Laughing in public establishments must be forbidden in this village. Every other one Veld went to, he heard laughter.

He picked at the noodles once they came, carefully holding his chopsticks and slurped them up. He ordered something nice and small, smiling at the taste. “Mmm this is delicious.”

“Thank you.” she said, looking at Tseng. “You can continue your conversation now.”

“So what do I need to do? To become a Turk?” he asks Veld, the man carefully chewing before swallowing. “I wanna know.”

“Usually I pick up the scraps,” Veld answered. “I take some with a lot of experience or some from the military academy. So you gotta get yourself experienced, captured, or graduate head of your class. We do this field program all across Gaia to see who is suitable for the Turks. And you gotta be fifteen and older to apply for it. The field program shows your strengths with the three weapons you select and set down for. It can be hand to hand, nunchucks, shurikens, guns, anything. If it’s considered a weapon, you can demonstrate. We send infantry and a few veteran Turks all around to watch and gain applicants, sending the applications to me and the videos as I will review them. You get in, you get a message in the mail saying pack your bags come join the Turks.”

Tseng beamed, listening to it all. Any weapon…. he took Veld’s chopsticks and held them at him, smiling. “Like chopsticks?”

“Something similar to them. Kunives, throwing knives, knives, those could work. But your dismantling was amazing Tseng. Who taught you?”

“My father.” He tried to hold respect in his voice but Veld could hear it faltering. Tseng had two comforting hands set on his shoulders, the turk watching his mother embrace him. “He taught me how to take someone’s weapon in…. it's disarming. Not dismantling.”

“Sorry, food brain right now.” The turk tried to get the kid to smile. But no smile. “You have what it takes. So in nine years when the program comes up, you can apply instantly. And I’ll come to watch you especially.”

“...promise?”

“Promise.” He finished his meal off, pulling out the Gil he needed to pay and set it on the counter with a tip. Tseng looked toward the door and got up.

“Papa!” He ran over to the man walking in, battle scars across his face. Veld saw him as an ugly bastard, black hair tied up in a que, wearing the traditional Wutain battle clothing he sees on the news. He set his weapon near the door, Veld getting up and bowing to the man. “Papa, Veld said I can become a Turk!”

The soldier’s brows furrowed, pushing his son away and looking at Veld. “So you, what are you?”

“A customer, sir.” Veld answered. “Your son brought me here to eat. And well, we got to talking and he wants to become a Turk in nine years.”

“No he won’t. He will enter the army and train to become a soldier like me. I am a general mind you- ShinRa.” He could tell by the crisp turk suit, Veld wearing black matching gloves. The suit being custom made still made Veld stand out as a Turk. A ShinRa lapdog. “I think it’s best if you leave, lapdog.”

Veld nodded and grabbed his trench coat and slipped his bag back on. “Of course sir. May you have a good evening. And Tseng, see you again.” He pats the boy’s head as he walks out, sighing. He forgot his mission objective.

He walked aimlessly around the village, knocking on each door he came across. Each person opened it and was confused, Veld asking about an abandoned home. Not one gave a straight answer. Maybe the damn infantryman dropped him off in the wrong village. “Looks like I’m aborting this mission-“

“Veld!” He turned his head, seeing Tseng’s mother coming toward him. She must have listened in to his conversation with her husband. “Have you seen Tseng?”

“No ma’am, did he run away?” He saw her nod. “I’ll find him. Any places he might go to?”

“He and a few school friends usually go to a waterfall near here or an abandoned warehouse they turned into their playhouse.” she answered. “I don’t know what got into him. After you left he ran off!”

Veld cursed. That little shit, worrying his mother like that was unforgivable. And if he wants to be a Turk, he better shape up. He listened to the directions, deciding to check the warehouse first. He was looking for fugitives still.

The warehouse looked abandoned alright, painted all over the outside by little hands. Some segments had animals, him able to spot a Chocobo. He went and slid the giant door open, seeing what was hidden inside. He found it amusing, seeing some boxes piled upon one another like stairs, a little fort hidden underneath the steps. He inspected the fort, pushing the small box inside and looking around. “Not in here.” He shimmied his way out and stood up. “Tseng! Your mom is worried you know!”

No response. Makes sense, the kid was probably upset. But why? What could make the child upset. He rapped his finger against his chin, deciding to go up the metal steps to see what the second floor entailed. His right hand rested on the barrel of his gun, just to be safe and he pushed open a door with the left. “Jesus Christ.”

Well one, he found Tseng. Second, the fugitives too. On the PHS, it wasn’t asked they were to be returned, only killed. “Tseng close your big brown eyes.”

Bang
Bang
Bang

“Good boy.” He went and lifted the Wutai in his arms, patting his head. “You wanna tell me why you ran away from home?”

“Cause papa was talking mean about you,” Tseng answered, wiping the blood off his clothes like it was no issue. “And the Turks too. He called you guys lap dogs… will I be a lapdog?”

“We are not ShinRa lap dogs. We take missions for the cash,” Veld sighed, walking out of the room. “Well kid first, you are in big trouble with your parents. Second, I’m pissed at you for running away. And third, thanks for leading me to the fugitives. Now I can mark the assignment as done and leave.”

Tseng looked sad at that. “Leave? You can’t leave!”

“I have to. I got a little girl I want to see back home and of course I got my turks to watch. Tseng, I’ll come by and see you of course and plus missions out here.” he tried to reassure him, Tseng looking sad the entire time.

He stopped in front of the home, setting Tseng down. “Go on ahead kid. We will see each other again if destiny lets us.”

“Destiny?” He asks in a small voice, Verd nodding.

“Destiny controls us. We can’t change destiny. But, I feel we are gonna see each other again soon. You have a good night.” He ruffled Tseng’s hair one more time, walking away and waving a farewell. Pulling his phone out, he texted a successful mission and he will be back soon to his Turks.

A smile twinged at his face, thinking about Tseng. “Cute kiddo. He would make a great turk for sure.” He pocketed the phone after texting for a helicopter summon, getting a response it’ll be there in a few hours.

And while he waited, he pulled out a notebook, jotting down his thoughts.

Veld Verdot Dragoon, Mission XXXX
Job well done as always, the infantry kid was right. But this little Wutain kid made me smile today. Tseng. Never got his last name but maybe it’s how the village culture is like. So each village culture must radiate differently, not exactly uniformed but still has a piece from each. Village Zahugan, remember that Veld. Remember that is where little Tseng lives. And make sure to stop by and see him. Well since Tseng knows I work at ShinRa, all he gotta do is send me letters.
The mission was not easy as no one knew any abandoned homes, rather an abandoned warehouse that was turned into a kid place. Three fugitives were there and kept Tseng captive since he ran away due to his asshole father. But he is safe now, the mission is done, and the bodies will be taken care of by undercover ShinRa operatives. Veld signing off!

Chapter Text

Tseng sat silently at his desk, rapping his pencil against the wood, reading the scroll over. “Yup.. Yup. I think this is to satisfaction.” he mumbled. He hates strictness, the pressure to be the best like his father. But what Veld offered him yesterday gave him a reason to look forward to leaving Wutai and from his home village. He stood up, bringing the scroll to the window for the ink to try and lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The boy wishes he was a teen already to leave, to prove to Veld he is a Turk. And he wants to be a Turk. 

“ Tseng it’s dinner time! Come on out! ” He heard his mother shrill for him in their language, climbing up and sliding the door open, stumbling out to his mother’s call. Their home was above the restaurant, having the basic necessities despite his father being a general in Wuteng. He walks over to his mother and sits next to her, folding his hands in prayer to Leviathan. 

“ Well it’s good to see a certain son of mine wanting to live up to his family name. ” His father commented on his prayer. Usually, the child digs into his favorite meal, yakisoba. 

Tseng closed his eyes, restraining the urge to roll them. “ Of course father, but it’s to Veld tonight and Leviathan. I am praying to become a Turk !” His eyes lit up when he was done, his father dropping his chopsticks. He could tell his father was disappointed in him and his happiness soon faded. He waited until his parents finished to begin eating, him sipping his tea. It’s been a few days since Veld brought Tseng home, waiting for the turk to return and hopefully go to Midgar with him. 

His father grabbed the newspaper, Tseng seeing the Kisaragi clan face right on the front cover. “ Why do you read that garbage? You know the clan isn’t helping us out. ” His mother started. “ You work for their military, yes, but they have not given back to their citizens. ”

“ Mao quiet. The Kisaragi clan keeps all of Wutai safe as Leviathan looks down in glee at us. Leviathan tells our leader what to do and what is best. So Mao, if they aren’t helping us then it is Leviathan- “

“Is Leviathan even real?” Tseng spoke it in English, looking at both his parents. “Everyone believes in Leviathan and I pray to him, but is he real? Or is he just propaganda made up by the Kisaragi?” He felt a boiling hatred for the clan. The clan didn’t acknowledge the smaller villages like Zahugan. And it made his stomach spin. “I might be goin in seven but is he real?”

He watched his father stand up, looking over the table. “Tseng. Your room. You shall not speak of Leviathan in that tone of language!” He bellowed, Tseng running to his room in an instant and slid the door closed, panting. Easiest way to leave the dinner table. He knew Leviathan was real, but each time his father spoke, it was in a loving tone to the Kisaragi clan. Tseng wished that the clan would drop dead. He would be happy. 

The boy quietly slid his portable television out from his closet, flicking it on. He tapped the buttons on the side, finding the ShinRa broadcasting channel. He watched in awe, seeing Veld next to the President, a burly big man on the other side as his title came up. Heidegger, Director of Public Security. Then Veld’s, Director of Administrative Research. 

“Turk…” he whispered, watching the briefing. The President was hosting a press conference, taking questions. Tseng watched with interest, his hands folded. He never watched it with the volume up high unless his mother was in the restaurant and his father was away to the village of the Kisaragi Clan. He moved silently, grabbing a scroll and started to write, him listening to the press conference on a low volume and he heard the familiar voice of Veld. 

“Yes? Oh of course, we do take agents into my department. Be on the lookout for the programs going on all across the Planet.”

Tseng smiled, writing Veld a letter. His spelling wasn’t the best but his script was, signing the letter off with Fazu Tseng. He folded the paper once, twice and set it into an envelope, licking it close. He listened more to the briefing, his eyes lit up in excitement as he watched Veld move away from the mics before waving, the President taking the stand. That’s when he turned it off and slid it back under the dresser. 

He hid the letter under his pillow and rolled into bed, staring out the window at the nighttime sky. “Leviathan, can you really guide me to the Turks? Please, if you believe in all of us other than the Kisaragi’s, you can help me.” 

A soft knock came to the wall, his door sliding open and his mother walking in. “Tseng sweetie, are you alright? You didn’t finish dinner.”

“Yes mama, I’m alright.” he answered, sitting up. “You think someday we can go to Midgar? Just a visit?”

“No Tseng, that isn’t my decision and it’s not yours.” She sighed. “You sweet naive child of mine… you don’t know why we can’t go. And it’s because of your father hating ShinRa and their ideas.”

He had to act like he knew nothing. “Ideas?” He knew of the mako reactors, SOLDIERs, the different divisions within the company. 

“Yes Tseng. They use the life source of the Planet for greed. They pump her juices up and use her for their troops, for their power, for their money.” she explained. “You want to be a Turk, but do you know what ShinRa is? Greedy like all the other big corporations. They have reactors all over the planet except for here. They will never touch Wutai because of the-“

“Kisaragi clan…” he mumbled. He didn’t want the Planet hurt, and if the planet got hurt then Leviathan would be hurt too. 

She nodded and kissed his forehead. “That is right, son. They keep this land protected from ShinRa, from the greed of corporate giants. That is something you can say they do best…” she whispered. “But I am against them too, Zeng. And I don’t like the clan as much as you, but they keep our lush fields safe, our people from going hungry, us being able to live and enjoy life. And you get an education and go into the army.”

His eyes saddened and she bit her lip. “I mean, the turks. But you know how your father is… heavily against it all. You my son, you can prosper and prove to him that the Turks are unlike ShinRa. The man you met seems to be correct on his way of life, living in Midgar.” She ran her thumb over Tseng’s tilak, rubbing in circles until it disappeared, only a trail of red powder. “You are a part of the Fazu-Geng clan. We make possibilities come to life.”

“And my dream can become a reality…” he smiled, hugging her. “Thank you mama.” Tseng originally had no ambition, rather to travel the Planet and meet whoever he came across. And now he has something to look forward to when he was a teenager, and to get there he must practice. 

“Anytime my little angel. I’ll get your night tea ready.” She stood, Tseng moving to change for bed. He waited until she was gone to breathe, thinking. 

“Turks… Turks can do anything. And they can be anything too. So, I gotta be one. To make my clan proud of me. And make Leviathan proud too.” he whispered to himself, sliding on his pajamas and climbed back into bed. “Veld, I’mma make you proud of me. I’ll become like you, a Director. A leader.” He clenched his fists, beaming. “I’ll become a Turk! And a great one too!”

~*~

He didn’t really expect training to be killing his entire body. It was worse than gym class. Tseng bent over, wheezing as Veld stood over him, holding a wooden katana. “Come on Tseng, get back up.”

“No more…” he begged, falling over. He just turned seven and Veld surprised him with a visit. He felt strong arms lift him up and carry him out of the fields, heading back to his village. 

“Okay. No more. Want to hear how the mission went?” he ask, the Wutai child nodding excitedly. “Well, I went north from here, this exact spot to an abandoned warehouse. Apparently, there was some bad medicine being sold to a few villages near there and I don’t support bad medicine.”

Tseng stuck his tongue out, laughing. “Bad medicine? Can that ever get bad?”

“Hm well, if it’s in the wrong hands it can be abused recreationally. So anyway, another Turk operative came along and he is just a few years older than you. We split up, he takes high ground, I take low as a distraction.” Velds went on. “We Turks love explosives. I set a pipe bomb off and every head turned there. Then he swoops down, and starts to fire away. Soon there was blood everywhere and the bad medicine was taken away! But also, we blew up the fu- the bad lair like no tomorrow!”

“Wow Veld, that is better than practicing kendo and my Wutain.” he commented. “Way better. It sounds fun too! Like super fun!”

“You get to ride in a helicopter there and on the way back. We get to go in disguises and have any weapon we want.” The turk went on. “So Tseng, other than that how have you been since I last saw you? You grew a bit.”

“Oh ha ha, you mean my hair. I found a portable TV and I’ve been watching your conferences.” the kid answered. “You and Heidegger dislike each other. I can tell by your expressions. But I’ve been listening to your advice and been practicing! Leviathan looks down at me in excitement! I know he wants me to become a Turk!”

Veld couldn’t help but find his enthusiasm adorable. The way his face lit up, his eyes showing determination and strength. “Well, don't slack off from your chores. Or schoolwork. Or your kendo. Turks also gotta have brains, brawn, and able to clean a mess. We can go from clean to a Chocobo pen in an instant if not taken carefully. Oh man, there was a coffee explosion and my partner, Vincent, he had to clean it all up.”

“Vincent?” He looked at Veld, tilting his head. “Partner? Like, a homosexual way?”

He shook his head. “Well no, I’m married to a woman and we have a baby. Vincent Valentine was my partner. Turks sometimes get paired up with their opposite. He was my opposite and the perfect partner too. Vincent used to hunt so when he came in, he was an expert marksman. I was a clutz. We were sent on a mission together and came back in one piece. But Tseng, a depressing realization hits you that sometimes you cannot go together. He was assigned bodyguard duty…. and when the people came back he was guarding… he never did.” 

Tseng notices his eyes beginning to sadden and squish his cheeks together, Veld’s eyes lighten up a bit. “It’s okay! He might be gone, but he is in the Lifestream now. And wants you to be strong! Mkay?”

“Okay Tseng. I’ll be strong, for you. And him.” He ruffled his hair and walked to the restaurant, Tseng moving to sit on his shoulders. “How is school?”

“Garbage. I hate it.” he answered, his face paling at what he saw. His father was waiting outside, holding Tseng’s destroyed portable. “..oh no.”

Veld stopped in front of the older man, raising a brow. “What is going on? Today is his birthday.”

“Tseng. Get inside. Now.” The strictness in his voice made Tseng run inside, frightened. The child ran to his mother, hugging her legs tightly. 

“Mama…”

“I’m sorry hun…” she apologized, knowing what she did wrong. And Tseng felt tears hit his hair, burying his face in her legs more. The two listened to the conversation going on outside, Tseng wiping at his puffy eyes with his blue long sleeves, sniffling. “Tseng…”

The Wutai listened as his father came back inside. “He isn’t welcomed here and will never be served here again. And you Tseng, are never leaving Wutai. You are already corrupt in the mind of ShinRa! In greed! Is that what I want my only son to be greedy in life?! Huh?!” 

“N-no papa…”

“Starting today, no more speaking their language. No more being friendly with that man. You will never be a ShinRa lapdog as long as you are a part of our clan!” Each word stung worse than a bee sting. Tseng hiccuped, sobbing. He was never going to see Veld again, and it hurts. A lot. Never seeing his inspiration, his coach, his voice of reason. 

“Hongu-“

“Mao. No words from you.” Hongu spat. Tseng felt like a disgrace to his family now, guilt in his eyes and on his face. The child was going to be lectured once again. 

With a grasp of his small wrist, he was dragged up the stairs and threw onto the sofa. “You want to be a ShinRa dog! And I won’t stand for it at all! You keep watching those debriefings when you should be fixated on joining the Wuteng! We don’t need ShinRa, I don’t want my son becoming greedy!”

“Papa I won’t-“ Tseng cried. “I won't be greedy!”

He was slapped across the face, his eyes widening. “Wipe that baby look off your face! You will become greedy and will forget why we aren’t like Midgar or the Planet! They feed off of her! Wutai does not! We are proud of Wutai and we should feel that! Understand son?”

Tseng for once in his life shook his head no. “I don’t want to be proud of a country that wants me to be more when I cannot. I don’t care, papa. I want to go to ShinRa when I’m older and I’ll show you I will never be greedy. Have I ever?” He snipped. The shots were fired. And the boy knew why he never disobeyed his father. 

A loud cry came from upstairs, and all around the home. All around the restaurant, echoing off the walls. Each hit that went into his abdomen, his chest, his face made him see stars. He begged for it to stop but it didn’t. It got worse and worse and worse. 

The cries stopped after Tseng passed out, but before he did he heard footsteps running upstairs and his name being cried out. He knew his father wouldn’t get in trouble, claiming it was a training exercise. 

That night Veld stayed to make sure Tseng was resting and Mao did not sleep in the same bed as Hongu. The two of them sat by Tseng’s side, Veld making a call saying he would be late on arrival and flipped his PHS close. “There. Tseng how ya feeling after drinking the elixir?”

“Everything still aches…” he whispered. Tears ran down his battered and bruised face. “The good thing is, my loose tooth is gone.”

A smile spread across the turk’s face, nodding. “Yea, now you don’t need to fidget with it all day and all night. You’ll get a visit from the tooth fairy.”

“Doubt it,” Tseng sighed. “I was bad today. I dishonored the family and spoke out against the man of the house. He is the feh-sweng, the superior. And I opened my mouth…” he hiccuped, his mother handing him his teacup. “It hurts. Mama…”

She hugged him, Veld joining the hug. “It’s okay sweet pea, you are lucky he didn’t get the belt,” she whispered. The Turk felt sick to his stomach hearing that. He knew SOLDIER gets corporal punishment but a little seven year old boy? “Mr. Dragoon I wish you could take Tseng far away from here now… but it’s too dangerous for him.”

“He needs to heal up and I’ll try to stop by more often.” Veld promised. “Oh Tseng… look at you. So injured. I want to take him, Mao, I do. But he has friends here, an education. I would be too busy to make sure he got an education. It’s why my daughter, Felicia, stays with her mother cause once she’s older she will be going to school like this smart dumb Apple.” He ruffled Tseng’s hair, trying to get a smile. But nothing came. “Buddy…”

Mao heard her son take a sip, him staring at the leaves in his tea, thinking. “I wanna go to ShinRa for a small time… just to get away from papa.” he whispered. “Veld can take care of me. Right?”

“I can try to but maybe next year. You are a little too small. And we don’t know how you do in helicopters…” Tseng felt trapped. Veld was going to be leaving soon and the future turk was going to be cut off from the ShinRa broadcasts now. Who knows if his father and the stationed Wuteng would let Veld into the village. His heart ached, telling him to say goodbye to the Turk. “Hey Tseng? I seen you do that look when you are thinking or need to use the restroom. Please tell me it’s not option tw-“

“No. It’s not.” He handed the tea to his mother and laid down. “Just my heart. It's telling me something but I don’t want to fess to it. Goodnight Veld.” He turned away from Mao and Veld, closing his eyes. 

His future was being dictated once more. And he won’t stand for it any longer. The seven year old Wutai child will become a Turk. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 2:

You Only Live Once

Ever since his seventh birthday, Tseng felt his life truly became hell. He wanted to run away and attempted, multiple times. He was not allowed to speak the language Veld has and was strictly set to speak his home language. Days passed into weeks and weeks into months. Tseng’s hope and his light weren’t there anymore. Veld hasn’t come to his village since his seventh birthday. 

All hope was slimming out for him. Everything he churned to see, to become. Now it was not reachable and he couldn’t pray to Leviathan. He noticed the village was beginning to dislike ShinRa ‘lap dogs’ they phrased it. And Tseng hated it. All the kids began poking fun at the son of the General, Tseng not even going to the old warehouse to play. Instead, he sat home and did his schoolwork, read his books, helped his mother and did his chores. He practiced viola and snuck comic books from rotten students bags. Doing that, he fell in love with the mythical heroes: Dark Chocobo, Moogle-Man, Cactuar Cycle. Tseng then found steal materia and used it for his own sins. 

Tseng walked by a few kids, the nine year old holding materia tightly in his grip as he focused, moving faster and stealing a thousand Gil from both. Five hundred and five hundred. “That will do.” he whispered to himself. He forgot how to speak English, he hasn’t done it in forever. And he started to forget about the nurture of Veld, someone being fatherly to him. He silently walked into the restaurant and noticed new wall art of Wutain culture, feeling disgusted. All praise the Kisaragi clan. That his ass. 

“Mama.” he said, noticing Godo’s scroll hanging near the staircase. Mao did not respond to him, Tseng sighing and going up into their home, dragging his feet to his room after kicking his shoes off. He slid a box out from under his bed, opening it and counting the gil he got. “If I can keep this up I can get the hell out of here.” he whispered. He was done with the oppression. Godo being wed made it the last straw. If that man can get married then that man can help his people out. Tseng sat silently, all the gil coming out to fifteen thousand. “Five thousand more… I got this. Twenty thousand and I can bribe a pilot to take me to Midgar.”

“Tseng! Get down here this instant!” His father screeched it, Tseng sliding the box and his materia back under the bed, apologized to his Leviathan scroll, and ran down to the restaurant. And there he saw the angry kids he stole from, holding wooden rods to beat him with. “These two claim you stole from them.”

“No. I don't recall a thing. I was minding my own business and realized how late I would be to work.” he lied. Tseng became a master liar in a few years. And everyone believed him. He watched Hongu sigh and told the kids to leave, Tseng going back upstairs and to his room. He was working: working on planning his last attempt of freedom. When he gets to Midgar, he’s abandoning all his culture. Except for his tilak. 

He licked his thumb and wiped it off, grabbing a book of Wutain and cracked it open, holding a comic inside as he began to read it. He left off on Dark Chocobo about to defeat a phantom Bahamut. He was so in depth and then he heard cries in the street. “Huh?” He opened his window a bit and listened, seeing commotion. It wasn’t ShinRa or SOLDIER and it wasn't Kisaragi's clan. His stomach fell as he saw enemies invade. “Oh no!” 

Sure he hated his father, but he loved his mother more. He slipped his shoes on and ran down the stairs, breathing sharply. Mao was nowhere to be seen, Tseng running out into the streets, raven hair plastered on his face. He felt himself become sick, hearing gunshots. What was going on?! He got knocked to the ground, his hand being stepped on as he bit back a cry of pain. His heart thumped, him seeing the pagoda be set on fire. “No! Stop it!” he cried, getting to his feet. He couldn’t clench his left hand, running to the pagoda. “Mama?! Papa?!” He just wanted to know one of them was safe. Mostly Mao. Hongu can rot in hell for all he cared for. 

His feet carried him to the pagoda, watching it burn as he noticed the invaders charging at him. Fear and panic welved into him, but same with a fight or flight response. He dodged a spear, moving to the side and moved behind the enemy, jumping up. His body was doing it all on its own, Tseng unable to obey himself. Unable to obey anything. He got on the man’s shoulders and waved his arms at the other male, crouching down and jumping off after seeing his enemy crumble into the ground, bullet through the head. Tseng just got a man killed! His stomach heaved, but right now he had to flee. His hands grasped the spear and ran, dodging bullets. Ringing was loud in his ears, almost like the sound of drums. He cried, running into his family’s restaurant and up the stairs, quickly looking around. 

“Gotta leave before they come after me!” He whispered, shoving gil into his pockets, his materia and ran to his parents bedroom, shoving the divider down and over to his father’s side of the bed. Opening the drawer, he saw oddly colored materia and took it, shoving it into his pocket too and one of his small bags. His mother slid her drawer open and took the gil, seeing a few recipe cards and swiped them. Wherever he was going and with the money he had, he could get by with the food his mother made for him. He ran into the kitchen and opened the fridge, stuffing dumplings into his pockets. He heard footsteps, holding the spear tightly. Grabbing a chair, he threw it through the window and jumped out, running fast. 

He doesn’t know what happened to his parents, to his former friends. To anyone. All he had was the things in his pockets. No comics. No books. No nothing. He doesn’t know where he was running to, but he prayed to Leviathan he ended up somewhere safe. 

~*~

Tseng woke up to being a few feet off the ground. Wait…

“Aaahh! Chocobo!” he yelled, trying to get out of its beak. He heard the kweh and soon hit the mud, groaning. He let out a few curses, pushing himself to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. Open field. Open plains. And a town in the distance. “Hey Chocobo I'm sorry but can you bring me to that town? Please! I’ll give you dumplings…” Gods his stomach growled. Tseng was starving. 

He quickly pulled out a pork dumpling, holding it out. “My parents might be dead… please. I need someone right now.” He sniffles. He watched the Chocobo gobble it up and crouched down, climbing on. He rode Chocobo with his mother when they had the time to, carefully guiding the black bird into the town, almost like a cowboy on a horse he saw on television. The town looked busy, seeing cars moving and on the sides of the road, people walking. 

Once he rode into town, everyone took notice of the recent orphan, him sliding off the Chocobo and patting its side, letting it go free. Tseng took a breath and walked, looking around as he read signs. The signs were in a badly translated Wutain, making it clear people with a different language did not study Wutain. He grimaced at that, pushing a door open and walking in, all eyes on him. And Tseng saw his first half naked woman right there, him quickly leaving with a deep red face. 

“Shiva I am so sorry for laying my eyes on a woman of your statue. I am so sorry…” he begged for forgiveness from her. 

“Hey kid! Where are your parents?” Tseng heard the voices and turned, seeing a few men come toward him with weird helmets on their faces, almost like three red eyes staring down at him. Tseng blinked, trying to remember. 

“Uhm… d-dead.” he answered, bowing before the police. “I’m.. sorry. E-eng-eng-“ he can't pronounce his l’s. Why can’t he pronounce his l’s? He was able to do it many years ago. 

One of the men looked Tseng over. “Name?”

“Fazu-Geng Tseng.” he answered. 

“Obviously Wutain.” The man’s partner said. “Come on kid we’ll bring you to the station and phone Midgar.”

Tseng’s eyes lit up. And now he noticed the men- “Infantry!” He cheered. “Infantrymen! Infantrymen!” He sounded joyous, happy. “Midgar! Verudo!” He took the men’s hands, ready to be guided. 

Instead, Tseng sat on a bench, looking bored out of his mind, his hand playing with the odd materia. What was it? He never knew Hongu had this. Maybe it was a family heirloom, something he would never receive. Sadness hit him, looking down. He was supposed to be getting a sister by the winter festival time. His heart dropped, almost dropping the materia but quickly catching it, sighing. He heard the phone go back down and he turned, excited. 

“We gave your information to Administrative. The director said he’s on his way.” The infantry man said. “Now sit tight. Do not go anywhere.”

“Verudo!” He cheered. Tseng felt all his worries disappear. Veld was coming! He kicked his legs back and forth, excited. “Man oh man I can’t wait! I’ll be seeing him soon!” 

He waited and waited. He watched the clock go, minute into hours. He was starving and needed food. The pork dumpling he had was all he had left. He checked his pockets and was glad the gil was still there. But all the dumplings are gone. Stupid Chocobo must has raid his pockets. 

Noticing the infantry busy talking, he snuck out of the station and into the bright lights of town, seeing the sun set. He walked the streets, excited. Veld was coming Veld was coming Veld Veld Veld was coming-

“Hey guys look. A little Wutain.” That snapped Tseng’s senses back, bumping into a boy three years his senior. And soon he was surrounded, hearing knuckles pop and crack. “Don’t worry, we’ll show you how we deal with rats!”

Fist after fist, Tseng was pummeled almost into the sidewalk. His left hand still ached, gaining bruises on his knees and all over his body, crying for it to end. He could only think about how his father did this to him, wailing. Stop, stop, STOP! He felt ready to throw up. 

“Leave him alone!” He heard an older voice, not understanding what the man was saying as he heard the kids scatter and footsteps come over. His brown eyes were blurry but he saw the familiar tan face, sweep brown hair and cheeky grin. “..Tseng.”

“Verudo!” Tseng hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. He cried, Veld holding him carefully to not bruise him more. He got to his feet, not going to the station and headed straight for the helipad. With Tseng in his custody, his goal was get him to his house and clean the child up. 

“It’s Veld, silly.” Veld chuckled. But he noticed Tseng’s blank face. “Tseng? Do you remember English?”

“I can speak very little of it. All of it, not anymore. I’m sorry…” Tseng apologizes. But Veld pats his back gently, telling him it’s okay. He would get all his information out of the boy when he was clothed and bathed. Once he got to the helipad, he climbed into the back and slid the door shut, holding Tseng tightly. Tseng blinked, looking about as his environment was metallic. Dark gray metal. “Verudo?”

“Or Verdot. Until you can say Veld again. We’re heading to Midgar but straight to my place. I’ll need as much information as I can to get why you are a mess and aren’t home! What happened?” Veld thought it was safer to bring Tseng to Midgar then back to Zahugang all clean like a lotus. And presentable to his parents too. 

The child bit his lip, snuggling closer to Veld. Veld noticed a change in Tseng, one he was not liking. The boy was more quiet, not talkative. And the way he gripped Veld was in a worrisome way for the older male. 

“Get us to HQ ASAP!” Veld yelled, covering Tseng up. “Hey it’ll be alright bud. You are in ShinRa custody now.” He said that in front of the pilot. In reality, Tseng was his and in his custody. 

The helicopter ride was long and dull, the Wutai child feeling sick the moment his feet hit the ground. Everything spun around him like the rotors, Veld carefully taking him to the stairwell and rushing down it. He cannot have Heidegger knowing who he brought with him. If Heidegger found out a Wutai child was in his grip, he was doomed. He might get tested and dissected by Hojo or worse: bathe in Mako to become a SOLDIER. Veld’s plans would go out the window, wanting Tseng to be a Turk. 

The company wasn’t so elaborate like what Tseng saw on the screens, it looked small and dull. Which was alright, maybe it would become a vast empire like he hoped it would become in the future. Reception was nice to him, Veld requesting Reeve’s cell number. 

“Ohayu.” Tseng greeted the lady, her greeting back in the same tongue. He giggled and they talked, Veld calling Reeve in the PHS.

Hello?

“Reeve. It’s an emergency. Meet me at my place in thirty minutes.”

Hm, fine. Verd this better be something worth it. If it’s Vincent’s attempt at a porno again, I’m leaving. 

“Yes yes it didn’t go as planned I know. But this is big and I’ll need an ID card made once you see what happened.”

Fine. I’ll see you in an hour and not thirty minutes. I don’t trust you bud. I’m still mentally scarred from seeing your di-

“Thanks buddy!”

And Veld ended the call right there, slung Tseng over his shoulder and ran to the parking garage to his truck, climbing in. “Okay Tseng I got rules and you gotta obey them. We’re heading to my house. You’ll shower, eat something, do your business, whatever. Then you’re gonna meet a man who is gonna help you out. I don’t know how long you’ll be in Midgar for but Mao and Hongu must be worried sick about you.”

Tseng nodded obediently, him taking the information in. He didn’t have his birth certificate, which sucked. Veld can tell in his big honey almond eyes. The engine rumbled with a start and soon the two were on the highway, heading for Sector 7 where Veld lived above the slums. Tseng in the meantime kept himself busy, playing with the odd materia. That caught the senior turk’s eye. 

“A summoning materia?!”

“Summoning materia?”

“Yes. And that one is, you can summon Leviathan with it. Keep it safe, it’s an incredibly rare find. Only you can gain one from the government in Wutai mostly.”

“Papa had it in his nightstand.” Tseng answered. Veld’s eyes widened. “And I found a steal materia a few years ago and I’ve been stealing from people to get here!”

“Tseng stealing is wrong. Empty your pockets when we get to my apartment.”

The Wutai child huffed and crossed his arms. He almost dropped the materia and Veld screamed, catching it and swerving all over the road, cars and trucks honking at him. “So sorry!” He called out, one hand on the wheel and one on the Leviathan materia. He looked at Tseng and rolled his hand, setting it back on his lap. “It. Stays. There.” he said sternly. Tseng grumbled something he couldn’t understand, him stopping at a red light and sighed. He has a daughter he was raising and his wife was stressing him out. And now he has a nine year old to care for and feed he just took in. And his wife doesn’t know who Tseng is, if he is Veld’s son or if he has parents. 

He pulled up on the side of the road, taking his keys out. “Tseng. Open door.” He told him, the boy looking at the handle and yanked it, seeing the door pop open. His eyes lit up. “So you guys never really owned a car…” he got out and helped him out, taking him inside and to the third floor, bringing his keys out. “It’s messy. Be careful.”

“This isn’t messy!” Tseng argued when the door opened. Veld saw it as messy, he left paperwork all over the breakfast counter, a seat pulled out as a cup was toppled over and a plate of dinner left out. The TV was blasting the news, a spiral staircase that led to his bedroom had a coat on the railing. A playpen was set up with baby toys for when his daughter stayed with him and down the side hall was a bedroom for Felicia, a spare bedroom that Vincent called ‘home’ when he room with Veld and a bathroom. Tseng set the materia on the kitchen counter, instantly raiding the fridge for a drink. 

“Tseng! Shoes.” He set his loafers by the door, Tseng came over with a marble soda and kicked his off, Veld’s eyes widening. “Dear Ifrit’s balls, your feet are sore Tseng. Drink up and go shower or take a bath.”

The kid blinked and extended a leg, holding it up as he looked. “Uh, o-k.” he said carefully, Veld pointing to a side hallway. Tseng ran as he drank, sliding into the bathroom and closing the door. 

Veld rubbed his eyes and set a pot of coffee on, grabbing two mugs. Since Reeve was on his way, he could make him a drink. He grabbed a key and opened a cabinet, looking at the various materia. All of this was contraband from kidnappers or dissidents. Hitmen, hitwomen, Avalanche members. He looked for the cure materia and closed it, checking to make sure it can do a full curaga. He walked to the bathroom and was about to knock, hearing the shower start up. He moved away and to the sofa, watching the news briefing. A police chase from Midgar National Bank was on and then-

We interrupt this for breaking news. Remote village called Zahugan near the Fushey Mountains was attacked by Kisaragi Wuteng looking for Fazu-Geng Hongu and his family. 

Veld almost choked. That was Tseng’s father and village. What was going on?!

Be on the lookout for a man of this stature. His wife and son are presumed dead but he is still at large. Fazu Hongu stole a Leviathan materia from Godo Kisaragi.

“Oh… shit.” Veld got off his feet and over to the counter, looking at the summoning orb. “Shit! Tseng’s dad really stole this?! Oh gods no!” He clenched his hair, panicking. If they find out Tseng is alive… wait. They didn’t say him by name. All he has to do is make sure Tseng does not say his last name. Abandon it. The Fazu-Geng clan is an enemy to Wutai. 

He paced the wood, listening to the briefing on the attack of Zahugan. No survivors. No one lived at all. Everyone was presumed dead, not missing. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Tseng when you are done we gotta talk!” Veld yelled. He got a reply, the bathroom door opening and Tseng rushing out in shorts a few sizes too big for him. 

“What happened?” he ask, hearing the tv going and lost focus on Veld, running and sitting on the sofa to watch the news. He thought it was the President speaking, but it was Godo. He watched, a smile turning to a frown and then he grasped the remote, turning it off. 

“I’m sorry…”

“So, my mom is dead.. and my father is a criminal. My last name has to be erased permanently from me…” Tseng felt an ounce of relief leave him. His asshole father was gone but with that his mother, unborn sister, family, friends. He got down onto his knees and took a breath, saying a prayer for those dead. Veld watched silently, feeling pity and sympathy. Tseng just lost everyone he ever knew and has to start over. 

He waited until the boy stood and turned to face him. Veld walked over and used the cure materia, healing all of the child’s bruises. He sat on the couch with Tseng on his lap, flipping through the channels. He figured the Wutai boy was no longer hungry but being so small… 

“Hey Verd you dick open up!” Reeve yelled, waking up dosing off Tseng as Veld placed him to the side, rushing to the door. “What happen- kid. Yo… your wife is gonna kill you.” 

He grabbed his arm and brought him in. Reeve neat black trimmed hair was gorgeous, Tseng sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “He speaks strictly Wutain. I’m trying to get him to remember English.” Veld warns Reeve. “Okay so, his father stole from the Kisaragi’s. I need Tseng’s last name changed to Dragoon immediately, a ID card made, birth certificate-“ 

Reeve took notes, going to sit with Tseng. They both waved at each other, Tseng jumping on his lap and snuggling him. “He likes me,” he chuckled. “Man, si Verd did you tell her?”

“No. When I go home to Kalm you take Tseng for that duration. Tseng is gonna go to school, be enrolled in the military academy-“ Reeve shook his head. He knew how Veld wanted a son. And his wife miscarriages multiple times after Felicia being born… 

“Look at you Mr. Dragoon,” he chuckled. “I’ll get the ID card made immediately. Birth certificate will take time. So he is from Wutai?”

“Lived, breathed, ate, he is Wutai.” Veld confirmed, going over to the two. “I’ll have him meet President ShinRa when the time comes. Rufus is about his age so it’ll be nice for them to be friends. Give Tseng a safe haven with a boy his age that is Midgar.” He ruffled his hair, Tseng laughing. “He’ll join the Turks when I see fit.”

The Director nodded, sitting back comfortably. “So you got a nine year old to clothe and feed. Good luck to you buddy,” he said. “I’ll help you get what needs to be forged. So from this day on he is Tseng Dragoon, adoptive son of Verdot Instan Dragoon?”

“My middle name isn’t Instan dick. And yes. My son.” He smiled. “I’ll need help Reeve. You are the only one I can call upon.”

“We’re best friends, Verd. At least this isn’t Vincent’s attempt at a porno with you like the last time I was in here.” Reeve shuddered. He noticed the sadness in Veld’s eyes. “I miss him too, buddy. He’s happy in the Lifestream now, reunited with his family.”

Veld swallowed and nodded. “Yup. Aight, we got a boy to tend to and raise. Tseng this is Reeve Tuesti. He is going to help you get set up in Midgar.”

“Hello.”

“The boy said hello. Reeve I swear get that stupid cat robot working so he can translate for you.” The Turk teased, laughing. Tseng didn’t know what they were saying but laughed with his new father. A new lease of life was given to Tseng and when he was put to bed that night, he sat up and prayed to Leviathan. 

His eyes widened, a phrase running into his head. 

You only live once, Tseng Dragoon. 

Chapter Text

Chapter: 3

Beings We Trust

Tseng slept soundly that first night in Veld’s apartment and as the days passed by, Veld showed him around the ShinRa building. Especially Hojo, the leading scientist of the Science Department. Tseng felt uncomfortable being in his office, listening to Veld talking with him when he spotted a little girl with brown hair. 

“Hi..” he got up and ran over, greeting her. She was leaning against the wall, trying to walk. “Can you speak yet?” he asked. “I’m Tseng.” He didn’t understand why she wasn’t greeting back, only staring up at him with large green eyes. He huffed and looked at Veld, the Turk Director coming over to him. “Hey Verd, who is she?”

“You wouldn’t get it Tseng, come on. Hojo is willing to give you a physical and a check up. It’s a requirement for school.” he whispered, dragging Tseng away from the girl. He wish she knew her name, she was adorable and he wanted to take her home! 

~*~

“Healthy for his age. He weighs 102 pounds and is almost five foot.” Hojo commented. Tseng sat there on the table, staring dead in his eyes. He gave off a murky aura. He reek of chemicals, the smell burning his nose. Veld looked the same as Tseng, but his eyes held ferocity and anger to Hojo. “He seems to have a bit of a stomach issue but him on antibiotics will clear that up.”

Veld huffed. “Look he’s healthy, now give him his damn shots.” he ordered. The Wutai boy extended his arm, wanting this over and done with. Veld went over and held his free hand, Hojo injecting needle after needle into his veins, placing plain bandages over them. “There he is done. Now we gotta get going.” He lifted Tseng up in his arms, walking out at a quicken pace. 

“He stink,” Tseng said. Veld nodded in agreement, the child sighing. “What happened? Gotta be about that one guy you really liked.”

“He is the one Vincent was guarding years ago. I hadn’t seen him in a long time and I miss him.” Veld looked down. “He went missing a few years ago when Lucrecia and Hojo returned and well, she was pregnant. I thought Vincent cheated on me but well, Hojo filed a death report and there his name was: Vincent Chao Valentine.” 

Tseng set his hands on his face, staring into his eyes. “Sorry that happened. I’ll bite his finger next time for you!” He got Veld to chuckle, a nice sound the child liked to hear. 

The months went by, Tseng set in a private school with a blond-haired boy. The President’s son. He was handsome, blond hair slicked back. Tseng was placed in the same class as him, probably by coincidence. Or on purpose. Rufus noticed how Tseng looked, his cheeks tinting a soft red. 

“Hey there.” The rich child greeted him, Tseng looking up from a book. “You are Tseng?”

He nodded, closing the book and making sure he left it bookmarked. “And you are Rufus ShinRa.” he greeted. “Pleasure to meet you sir I’ll be your future employee-“

A hand went up. The child sat next to Tseng without an invitation. “Don’t say that yet. You are what, ten?” A nod. “Ah, my age. So tell me Tseng, you are a Wutai child living in Midgar. Why?”

“Well sir-“

“Rufus.”

“Well Rufus, something bad happened and well, I had to leave the country.” he answered. “It’s a very sensitive topic to me and I don’t like speaking about it. I’m sorry…” 

The ShinRa spawn listened and nodded. “I get it. My mother has been sick lately-“

“I heard. Verd speaks about it at the dinner table and I lead us in prayer for her health to become better. My condolences for her sudden illness. And sorry for interrupting—“ Tseng swallowed hard and sipped his water. He felt nervous all of a sudden. This was the President’s son, higher than Tseng, higher than Veld even. He felt honored on top of the anxiety, talking to Rufus ShinRa. 

Rufus was taken aback and nodded. “Thank you, Tseng Dragoon.”

From that day on, they were friends. Rufus and Tseng hung out together when school was out, the two working on homework. Tseng brought Rufus to the apartment and Veld almost dropped the roast he was taking out of the oven. “Mr. ShinRa!” Veld greeted. 

Rufus chuckled, setting his shoes against the door as he watched Tseng run over to help Veld out. “Hello Director,” the blond greeted. “Sorry for frightening you, I’m only here with Tseng. Are you prepping dinner?”

“Yes, would you like to stay?” He slipped his oven mitts off once the roast was in the oven. “Only if it isn’t an issue—“

“I would like to.” Tseng heard him trying to not sound desperate. “Tseng, you said you have comics? Can we read them?”

Tseng cleared his throat. “When I’m done helping Verd out. It’s my first time with a real friend over here so I’m not adjusted to it.”

“Go play with your friend. I can handle prepping dinner.” The Turk told him, Tseng’s almond eyes lighting up. “Go on boys, I got this.” He watched the two kids run to the Wutai’s room, Tseng opening the door. 

Rufus was amazed by how tidy it was. The bookshelf was not a book out of place, his comics on the top shelf. His desk was against the window to stare out at everything, post it notes taped to the window. A comic book was left out, volume 134 of Carbuncle Tales. He went over to the bed, seeing everything made and tidy, the pillows fluffed up. The posters were a mix of Wutai and Tseng’s interests, Rufus seeing a dog calendar above the dresser. A few figurines were on the desk, a Moogle holding its hands out as the base said “Kupo!” with a possible glee tone. 

“Uhm, is it up to your status, Rufus?” Tseng ask, going to sit on the bed. Rufus laughed and nodded, joining him. “Oh thank Leviathan! I’m happy you actually like it I haven’t cleaned it up yet-“

“You talk too much.” Rufus commented. “Now let’s see those comics.” Tseng hopped off the bed and to the shelf, grabbing a few volumes and handed them to Rufus. “Wow I haven’t even read these ones. Where did you get them?”

Tseng rubbed the back of his head. “Verd took me to my home village and to see what we can muster from the destruction. I went and grabbed some of my belongings and among them was these. Sorry if they are in Wutain I can translate!” He offered. Rufus shakes his head. 

“I actually studied Wutain. Thanks for the offer, native.” The two didn’t socialize after that, both silently reading as they listened to Veld’s shrieks of help. Tseng snickered, laying back on the bed. 

“Tseng! Rufus! Come get food!” Veld yelled, the two jumping up and running to the kitchen, Veld getting plates. The three sat together, the Turk nervous because he was dining in front of the child he babysat multiple times. 

His adoptive son quickly ate, Rufus hearing his phone ring and pulled it out. “I have to get home. Veld can you take me?”

Veld nodded and looked at Tseng. “You work on your homework and don’t watch TV until I get back.” The young child rolled his eyes, Rufus getting his shoes and backpack. “Don’t set the neighbor’s cat on fire too! Again.”

“Not my fault he kept trying to eat my post it notes.” he mumbled. He smirked behind his teacup, drinking it. His eyes went to the materia cabinet. 

The door closed with a click, Tseng getting up and tending to the dishes. He washed them all and the table down, putting away the leftovers in the fridge and trudged to his room. He unzipped his backpack and grabbed a textbook, opening it up. Grabbing a sheet of loose leaf and a pen, he began answering questions for homework. 

Veld came back late in the night, the Wutai child still awake and in his pajamas, drinking warm milk. “Tseng get to sleep. You have school.”

“Yea but you weren’t back yet.” he retorted. “Everything is taken care of by the way so you can head to sleep.”

“Tseng.” He rolled his eyes and grasped his shoulder gently, walking him to bed. “You are ten. You aren’t my age so please, go and sleep.”

He huffed, crossing his arms but went to bed, climbing up and tucking himself in. Veld stood next to the door frame, his fingers on the light switch. “Good night, Tseng.”

“Night Verd.” He watched the light flick off and the door close, Tseng sitting up and hunched over. He leaned and opened the drawer, pulling out his Leviathan materia and held it close, going back to laying down. 

Time went by, Tseng and Rufus became closer and closer. When Rufus did not come to school, Veld told Tseng his mother passed away. Tseng sat in silence all school day, missing seeing Rufus everyday at lunch. Veld noticed Tseng’s silence, taking him to the ShinRa building to see Rufus. 

The elevator dinged to the science floor, Tseng running off and looking around, Veld grabbing him as he carried him to the directory. “We need to go to Hojo’s area. The President trusted him the most to take care of his departed wife.”

“I hate him.” Tseng grumbled, walking next to Veld. He stopped, seeing the same girl follow him. “Uh hey.”

“Hi!” She ran after him and grabbed his pant leg, smiling. “Wanna pway?” Tseng was confused. This was the same girl but she could speak now, and plus she moved fast on her little legs. 

He shakes his head. “No, I'm here to see a friend. I gotta go kid.” He got her to let go and ran after Veld, walking next to him. “That little girl grabbed my pant leg apologies.”

“It’s alright maybe she wants to be your friend, Tseng.” Veld sighed. “So you don’t need to feel so alone in the world. Or here. Maybe try and befriend the kids in the lab.”

“No way.” Tseng shakes his head again. “I don’t want to do that. They are here for a reason….” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, closing his eyes. “Rufus told me the kids in the lab are used for science. Not playtime. He tried playing with that Sephiroth kid. Couldn’t.” 

The older Turk stopped outside a door and pushed it open, shoving Tseng in. “Yea well I’ll be making sure you get some friends. Go on.” he encouraged. The Wutai boy walked in, going over to a grieving Rufus and took his hand. 

“Tseng?” Rufus croaked, looking at the future Turk. “What are you doing here?”

“Verd brought me here to well, see how you are doing. You’ve been absent a lot…” Tseng answered. “I’m sorry about your mama. Really, I wish you called me and talked to me about it—“

“I don’t want to burden you.”

“But I like it. We are friends… right?” He tilted his head, his raven hair swishing to the side. Rufus nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“I'm glad you came.” Rufus whispered, pressing his forehead against Tseng’s. A scarlet blush creeped on his face, biting his lip. “Thank you.”

Tseng squeaked and nodded. “I, I guess you are welcome—“ he managed. He sat with Rufus, the two talking. His eyes darted to his palm, all bandaged. “What happened?”

Rufus blushed. “I accidentally burnt myself. I tried making mother something but well, I got hurt.” he responded. “I know it’s dumb.”

“No no it’s understandable. I burnt my finger on mama’s teapot once while trying to serve a customer. Hey I thought you knew that—!”

“I did! I like hearing you talk.” The blond smiled. “Tseng, you make the cutest expressions when talking. Your eyes light up about something passionate.” He had a playful tone to his voice, Tseng falling out of his chair. Was it true? Did his eyes really light up whenever he mentioned Dark Chocobo or the Turks? Or school? Or Rufus? 

Visiting time was over, Rufus was able to stay longer but Tseng had to go. He walked out, him noticing how his shoes hit the tile floor, hearing a soft pitter patter each time. His eyes didn’t spot Veld anywhere, groaning. “Man… why does Rufus make me feel weird everytime I’m with him?” he asked himself. “Is that how Verd feels when he was with Vincent? Couldn’t be… who knows.”

The little girl ran by him, being chased by a boy three years her senior, Tseng watching them go. The silver hair the boy had was tied up in a messy ponytail, his feet hitting the tile. “Hey!” Tseng yelled. “Hey you two stop it!” 

“Why should we?” The boy turned and Tseng almost jumped back. His eyes were cat like, instead of normal pupils they were cat like, his eyes green. “Hm? What are you, new?”

“No I’m only a visitor. Visiting a grieving friend.” he retorted. “Little bastard.”

“Didn’t daddy teach you not to curse?”

“Didn’t daddy teach you not to run on slippery floors barefoot so you don’t crack your skull open?” The older boy retorted. That brought the young child back, the girl giggling. 

“... touché.” He chuckled. “My name is Sephiroth. You?”

“Tseng Dragoon.”

“That turk kid?”

“In a way, yes. What’s her name?”

Sephiroth shrugged. “Won’t tell me. Haven't told anyone actually. Except for Hojo.” Both boys shuddered, the girl clinging to Sephiroth’s pants. 

Tseng sighed and shook his head. “She will tell her name some day then. I have to find Verd. Have you seen him, Seph… Sephri…” he took his time pronouncing his name. “Sephiroth?”

“English isn’t your first…” the young child mused to himself. “He went to the basement floor three. Said urgent business.”

“Thanks!” The Wutai ran to the elevators, hitting B3. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling the elevator begin to move and at a fast rate. Tseng turned around and looked out at Midgar, amazed by the beauty. But he missed seeing the clear sky. He always will until he is old enough to go out on missions with the Turks. Or when he was actually a registered one instead of saying a future Turk in the making every time an employee asked why he was in the building. He watch the glass change, not presenting Midgar, turning around to face the metal doors until he hears a ding. 

“Get back here!” Was the first thing he heard stepping off, seeing a black hair man chase a orange hair one with a katana. He quietly walked, moving against the wall until he got to a big door reading ‘Board Room’. 

Slipping inside, he was amazed by the giant conference table in front of him. The lights were dimmed, the glow of computer screens on the table being the light. Then the giant screen behind the desk showing what was going on in Midgar, Tseng walking toward it. He set his fingers on the screen, scrolling through each different broadcast. He landed on one, hearing the news reporter begin to speak. 

“Hey why is there a little boy?” He heard a soft voice, turning and seeing a woman walk over to him. “Are you lost?”

“No ma’am, just looking for Verd.” 

“Director Veld is in his office. Come on.” She took his hand, walking him out and down to a closed door, pushing it open. Veld looked up and spotted Tseng, rushing and going over to him. 

“Are you ready to head home?” he asks, thanking the Turk and lifting Tseng into his arms. Tseng nods, laying his head against his neck, ready to fall asleep. 

The ride home was quiet, Tseng asleep in the passenger seat. Veld laid him to rest and left him alone. After that, Rufus and Tseng grew closer, the two visiting the ‘lab rats’ (what Rufus called Sephiroth and the girl) and having fun. 

One day, Rufus said a phrase to Tseng he couldn't shake off. “I trust you with my life, Turk.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4:

Birthday

Twelve came and went fast, Veld and Tseng watching all of Midgar change in the year. More Wutains moved into the city, some went to the slums and some worked on the plate. Veld bringing Tseng along to work got him to see other Wutain employees, his eyes full of curiosity as he spoke Wutain with them. Going to ShinRa was becoming more fun other than going to the Turk floor, despite loving how it was set up. Turks had their own bedrooms plus their own optional offices, or they could split one. There were conference rooms, a main one where he saw many Turks sit together and chat amongst one another or work, then smaller ones for mission debriefings if it was team missions. Then they had a break room with a kitchen and a lounge where Turks rested and chilled out. Tseng was able to grow accustomed to it all, encountering a few Turks that weren’t interested in the work day. And he got to see up close how Veld dealt with them. 

On the eve of his thirteenth birthday, he sat at the counter of the apartment, filling his registration out for the military school. Veld cooked, looking over periodically in case Tseng needed assistance but didn’t need it. 

“Okay it’s filled out!” he called to Veld, smiling. “I’ll have to go in front of them don’t I?”

“Yes but you are very prepared for it,” he responded, going over and reading the form over. “So you’ll finish school too?”

Tseng nodded. “In case, being a Turk doesn’t work out. And I asked a few Turks too as they said my education is more important than being a trained assassin,” he responded with ease and gentleness. “Right, father?” Everytime he called Veld that, he felt so warm inside. And so happy. He’s been with Veld for a few years already, the two adjusted to one another permanently. 

Veld smirked with a gentle nod. “Yup. I’ll bring this in tomorrow. Sorry I’ll be working.”

“It’s alright. It’s just thirteen, no big deal.” Having his favorite meal from Wutai for dinner was better than nothing. “Besides, the biggest gift you ever gave me is a chance at my dreams than watching them wallow like baby chocobos.”

“Do you miss the countryside?” Veld ask, setting Tseng’s registration on his work bag in his manilla folder, hearing the teen’s sigh. 

“I’m being honest here, I miss the baby chocobos the most.” he snickered. “The fluffy little birds that hatch. They make me smile a lot when I’m stressed or I get away from home…” he felt Veld pull him into a hug, squeezing him gently. “But when I’m a Turk, I’ll probably get assigned to Wutai or elsewhere that has chocobos! So I get to play with them again.”

The director chuckled. “Oh yes, you know how to ride a chocobo. Slips my mind since we don’t have a lot of Turks who know. You’ll be one of the rarest types we got Tseng.” He slipped his oven mitts on, Tseng smiling. He already knew only one other Wutain was a Turk and they were dead. But in a way, he considered Veld a Wutain. Veld did say he grew up in Wutai until moving to Midgar then was thrown out for being with a boy his age. Plus Veld spoke Wutain flawlessly, almost. He still goes long on his i’s and short on his ts which annoyed Tseng. But alas, Veld kept some of the customs alive for the boy to embrace and live in. 

As dinner commenced, the two dug into yakisoba. Veld stopped after hearing the phone ring, Tseng continuing into his birthday dinner. He stopped to take a sip of his milk, seeing Veld come back over to the table. “Guess I got a mission the day after tomorrow. Going to Corcel for a drug bust by the sounds of it. No big deal, I’ll bring you something back like always.”

“Okay best birthday there.” Tseng snickered. “I’m having my favorite meal plus my dad is going to Corcel Village and bringing me something back and will tell me the story of the bust too!” He sounded excited, thrilled. “Did Balto get back from Junon yet from hunting down the killers of that rich family that is helping fund ShinRa?”

“Uh definitely as he gained the intel from that sick bastard.” Veld loves the excitement Tseng shown. But Tseng knew he was making Veld worry a lot, not wanting to become a bloodthirsty killer. He took a liking to Katana or his real name, Balto, a swordsman from Gongaga that offered to train Tseng in the way of swordsmanship. “But sadly the man died. But we know where the location of the last killer is and that is who I’m apprehending personally. So you will be going to stay with Reeve tomorrow.”

“That stinky cat lover?” He wrinkled his nose. Tseng didn’t like Reeve so much, probably due to the fact he loves cats over dogs. “Verd the last time I saw his apartment I called him a cat worshipper because of the kittens he had!”

Veld snickered, smiling at his adopted son as he took a swig of his beer. “Now my boy that isn't nice to say to him. Even though it is true he is a stinky cat lover. I got instructions for you…” he named off how long he would be gone for, Tseng groaning. “I know. But be lucky you’ll be going to the academy next year.”

“And staying with Reeve for a few freakin days…” the teen mumbled to himself. Veld sighed, going to his bedroom to get something for the teen, Tseng watching him go. He then came back and slid a box over to him. “Huh? What is this?”

“Open it and you’ll see.” Tseng carefully unwrapped the paper, being very neat about it as he opened the lid, eyes widening. “I know you want to train mostly in the marksmanship field. So I wanna give you my first pistol. Take it as a gift and it is not a toy and far from it.”

He rotated the magnum around in his hands, looking at the silver, the gorgeous brown blazing, where the magazines went into. Then the inscription. “Ve-Verdot Dragoon how proud we are,” he mumbled. 

“Veld but you can’t say your l’s still and that’s okay.” Veld patted him on the back. “I’ll get you a holster and everything for it. Treat it with respect, she’s a woman!”

The two laughed and had a small pie together, Tseng not big on cakes after the Legend, Charlie, filled a slice of ants for him to munch on a few days ago. He shuddered at the memory, but smiled nonetheless. 

As Veld put Tseng to bed, he smiled. “The Turks got ya presents so when I get back, I’ll take you to the Turk floor again and you can open them up. A big ole birthday party. Rufus is rumored to get you a lovely gift by the way.”

“He always does.” He chuckled, buttoning his shirt up. “Christmas or when he’s feeling nice he brings me a present. Plus the Sakura festival too since he gets to go… he brings me back the Sakura at least.” He looked to his dresser, staring at the gorgeousness. 

“He is your best friend, Tseng.” He patted his shoulders, the teen climbing into bed. “Did he call you yet?”

“No. He told me he had no cell service where he went. Told me not to tell anyone so shh.” He set his finger to his lips, a cocky smirk behind the slender finger. Veld shook his head, laughing as he left the bedroom, the light flickering off. Tseng sat back, trying to fall asleep. He didn’t want to awake too late, not wanting to be awakened by Reeve screaming ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ with an air horn. Like the last time. 

He looked at the nightstand, staring at his new gun. “Reeve better not do that again…” he grumbled. He wouldn’t pop him, wanting to listen to Veld so he didn’t lose the gun. 

The night came and went, the future turk nestled in bed with content. “So this is the birthday boy?” A voice spoke, Tseng thinking it was in a dream. “Well then we can dunk him, oh but we aren’t even in HQ are we?”

“Quiet dipshit before he wakes up!” A voice grumbled, Tseng mumbling and cuddling his pillow. Wait where is the pillow? 

His eyes shot open, almond eyes screaming. “AAAHHH!” He screeched, seeing neatly brushed back black hair with a long piece over his face, violet bluish like eyes staring at Tseng as a bandage was over his cheek. The other had wild orange hair with a cigar hanging from his mouth. “Balto?! Charlie?! Put me down guys come on!”

“Nice jammies birthday boy,” Legend teased. “Veld left early this morning so he sent us to pick ya up.”

Balto snickered, the two carrying the struggling Wutain out to the kitchen, setting him down. Tseng scrambles to his feet, cursing every word he heard over the past years. “You are lucky Veld is not here or he would soap your mouth so fast you’ll be tasting bubbles and shitting them.”

“You know you can be intimidating.” Tseng admitted to Balto. “Charlie on the other hand is dumb.”

Charlie screamed, Tseng crossing his arms. Balto punched the ginger in the face, him going down easily. “Pack your bag and get dressed. You are coming to ShinRa first then going with Reeve.”

The Wutai looked at them in disbelief, going back to his room and packing a bag, getting clothes on too and brushing his hair fast. He cursed more and more, making sure his pistol was in his inside coat pocket, rushing out and throwing his bag into Balto’s stomach. “You guys brought the chopper or a car?” The thirteen year old asked. 

Balto snickered. “Car. Sorry birthday boy no chopper yet. Another year or two.” He looked the apartment up when Tseng was set to go, Charlie racing him down the steps to the front entrance, running out to the black subaru. “Don’t scratch her dumbass!”

Tseng slid across the hood, Balto standing behind the trunk as he set the bag inside, making silent death threats. “Hey Balto you can't kill him or it’s jail again!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Balto grumbled. “Everyone get in or I’ll do manslaughter.”

Charlie burst into laughter, getting in the front while Tseng chilled in the backseat, the teen listening to the older Turks conversation. “So Amber screamed and her husband came bellowing in, demanding me to get out of the house and I didn’t even have my dick in my pants yet.”

“You know this happened so many times already Charlie? Veld is gonna dock you and plus make sure you have a legitimate partner. Not that blow up you call Shia.” 

“Shia is hot shut up!” Charlie argued. He heard a few snickers emerge from Tseng, turning around and staring him dead in the eyes. “Shut your mouth before I get a C4 and strap it to it!”

The teen cracked a smile. “Nah, you two love me too much to do that.” he snickered. “Can I ask something?”

“Sure Tseng.” Balto nodded. “What’s up?”

He took a deep and shaky breath. He wanted to ask about the bust, but decided against it. Rather going with another topic. “Becoming a Turk?”

Balto smiles. “Good topic to talk about. Becoming a Turk can be immediate like in your case. Veld didn’t tell you but you are a Turk. The moment you entered the ShinRa building for the first time you were a Turk. You are a Turk.” He started. “Now, you are going to martial arts, running, practicing with Veld around the apartment, or we come and play around with you and let you win on some occasions if you can get Charlie in a choke hold or pin Veld down in a matter of minutes with a spoon against his head like a knife or gun. You going to the military academy will involve official status to you even though we can train you. But with how the Turks have been with the missions, Veld set you into the academy where you’ll learn stealth, disarming, bombs, anything you can sign up for.

“Being a turk is not a game. You are there for life. You will be a Turk for life and honor it. You have the code Tseng. Retirement isn’t easy. You can’t retire. You can’t quit. ShinRa will be tailing your ass until you screw up and bam, dead. Now if you fudge up the files for a Turk that left the company, they can have a normal life. But it’s becoming rare. You’ll be the first teen Turk we had in a few years. Those are rare, we don’t like child soldiers. But you have a gift. Veld told me you have a special materia that is only given to graduate Turks to train with and have on them in case of immediate danger and having to take out the enemy. When you aren’t on mission, you might get assigned to clean up crew or filling out paperwork. Holidays are rare for us, only get them once in a blue moon. We have press conferences where our senior Turks like myself go and speak to the public with Veld, or we sit in our conference room to go over mission debriefings and pray we get on.

“Missions are fun. Or dangerous. Your pick. Tseng with you in the military academy your first mission will be at fifteen. It is usually given by the administrator as well as a field test, agility, you get the gist. No favorites will be played. But you need to be mature and not panic, you must remember your Wutain to translate for us which is a bonus, and do not inhale any white powder, eat anything funny, or blow it up to keep warm.” Balto cleared his throat. “And don’t take one of Shotgun’s cupcakes when she is being pissy.”

Tseng took note of it all. The first mission at fifteen, no wonder he was given a gun at thirteen. To train with. And with his knowledge of Wutain, he would make an easy translator. “Thank you, Balto.”

“Oh he’s very welcome kiddo. We will whip you into shape for that exam. Not favoritism, more of we want you to like super badly and if we don't the Director is gonna cry.” Charlie said. Balto punched him in the breast, him chuckling. “You’ll work more on your muscles to take out men bigger than you. You, you are linguini right now. You can run fast so you might be able to dodge easily. And with the academy be educated in materia.” 

The Wutai nodded, a little nervous. “What about partners?”

“Oh yes. You’ll be either assigned a partner or put on a rotary schedule for a few weeks when you are official,” Balto said. “Charlie here is my partner sadly. Veld has no partner. Hasn’t in… how many years now? Nine?”

“Nah way longer.” Charlie shrugged. “Ten, eleven? Dunno but Yep. Doesn’t wanna replace him even though he’s dead.” Vincent. Tseng knew they were referring to Vincent Valentine. 

He remembered seeing Veld sitting on the couch late one night, drinking whiskey and staring at an old picture. When Veld went to use the bathroom, Tseng crept and looked at it, seeing a Turk with raven hair swooping over his left eye, arm wrapped around Veld as they embraced with a few Turks below them. The date was set in 1975, two years before he was born. He stared down at Vincent, curious about him. And then he saw his gun, the beauty it was. He quickly shot back to his room when he heard noise from the bathroom, peeking out his door at Veld dragging himself back to the couch in his briefs, yawning. 

“Tseng?” Charlie’s voice brought the teen back to reality, not even knowing he was out of it. “Hey, here.” The trunk popped and doors opened, all three climbing out. Charlie walked Tseng up the steps with his bag slung over his side while Balto parked the car, heading past reception after a flirty exchange and the adolescent dragging Charlie away. Then a fast elevator ride down to the Turk floor. The two walk in content silence, heading to the lounge as Tseng plopped down in a beanbag. A TV was set up, same with a game console with four controllers on the stand, a couple couches pushed against the wall. There was a stereo and plus speakers in the corners of the room, in case there was an announcement. 

The adolescent pulled out his PHS, becoming immediately glued to it. Charlie settle next to the teen and playfully yoinks the phone out. “Oooo~ Mr. Rufus ShinRa!” 

“Hey give it back!” Tseng reaches for the phone, Charlie tossing it on his lap. Rufus was in swim trunks and a dress shirt Tseng got him for his birthday, his hair a light blond from the Costa sun. The message read 

Happy birthday Tseng. Sorry I can’t be there, I’ll be back the first of the month and we can party together then. See you soon~ 

His heart fluttered happily at the message. Being around Rufus made school bearable. And going to the academy with him would be fun. Plus seeing him in the school uniform when it started up made him grin like a dumbass. Or Charlie when he sees women. 

“Is the birthday boy ready?” An older Turk strolled in, looking down at the youngster. “Still cannot believe Veld favored him. He’s so little.”

“Hey Dakota quiet,” a girl snickered. Tseng remembered seeing her once, her helping him find Veld. “Since he is thirteen he can finally learn more about us. Dakota is Veld’s second in command since Vincent died. My name is Natalia, I am a veteran Turk who has been here for years.”

Other Turks piled into the room. Tseng was able to pinpoint them. Charlie, Shotgun as he does not know her real name, Ruluf or Two Guns; only three years older than Tseng, Martial Arts female as he only heard her name as Juget, then a small sum of the veteran Turks that have been around since Veld was a cadet with them. He could only recall certain ones: Olivia, the nice blonde woman with graying hairs, Carte the black hair male with scars across his face, Tee the “innocent” Turk who was almost fifty, Rocky the hard faced male with all gray hair. Those were the notable ones, ones that grieved when Vincent died. Plus he couldn’t forget Natalia and Dakota, those two veterans as well. And Balto, but he knew him for a long time. 

“Da-Verdot told me about you guys just can’t commit to memory,” Tseng chuckled weakly. That gained smiles across the room. “So a large sum of you guys are still out on missions. But that’s alright cause Verdot is too.” 

Carte snickered. “Well look at you. I see a bulge from your jacket. It's a gun huh?” He watched Tseng pull it out, holding it up. “Safety on?” A nod. “Good. Now don’t shoot yourself in the leg.” 

All the Turks gathered around, singing the teen ‘Happy birthday’. Tseng didn’t really care for the song, he mostly cared that his surrogate family was here. Plus when the gifts came in, he thanked them all. Mostly, he got gil but a holster for the gun, nice crisp dress shirts, a new backpack for school, Charlie of course got him comic books with a small bunny boy snuck in there, Balto gave Tseng a hunting knife and a box of Gongangan chocolate, and there was another gift from Veld he left with Dakota. 

The second in command brought Tseng to a room, turning the lights on. “This is yours when you turn fifteen. Enjoy the birthday, Tseng.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5:

Wutai

Tseng rubbed his eyes, yawning. Veld had to go into work early, saying Tseng should enjoy the last of his summer before school began in a week. Plus, Rufus was finally home from his vacation in Bone Village. That would be a fun day, spending time with his annoying best friend before school came as they would be separated. He huffed, sipping at his tea and scooping cereal into his mouth. His adopted father left the news on, Tseng not in the mood to get up from the bar stool and change it to something more enjoyable. He was fifteen of course, just turnt too a day ago.

“Thank you Sesame for your cooking segment on chocobo supreme. Coming up next…” 

“Breaking news! Threats of war are raging!”

His eyes looked up, getting up and going over to the TV. Threats of war? What’s going on? Sure it was the 90’s, but war couldn’t be coming. Can it? He sat back on the sofa, listening to the broadcast. 

“Emperor Godo Kisangani? Kisanero? Whatever. The Emperor of Wutai refuses to place a mako reactor in his country!” Tseng rolled his eyes. Yeah, like the Kisaragi clan would do anything to benefit Wutai. He disliked the use of mako energy, but it was ShinRa. ShinRa gets what ShinRa wants is what Veld told him. “President ShinRa is threatening war!”

Flick. He turned the tv off and threw the remote onto the coffee table, getting up and walking to the bathroom. He turned the shower on, staring at himself in the mirror. War with Wutai? Does ShinRa even know he is Wutain? Rufus knows but does the president? 

“Damn…” he looked down at his hands, seeing a nice small scar on the palm. “Thanks Rufus…” he clenched his fists, snarling. “Damn you ShinRa!” 

Crash!

He panted, having smashed the mirror and looked down at his bleeding knuckles, glass all in the sink. Tseng’s eyes darkened, plucking glass out of his bleeding knuckles one by one into the basin, grabbing disinfectant and bandages from the side cabinet, hustling out of the bathroom and to the table. Blood dropped into the floor, wincing as he cleaned out the wound with peroxide, bandaging his hand right up. He couldn’t get it. Why did he feel so much emotion for Wutai? The teen has not been home in months, if not years. Maybe it was the fact his mother might still be alive…. 

The teen made the right decision and called Veld, getting the secretary. “Mr. Dragoon is in a meeting, can I take a message?”

Meeting about the war, Tseng thought. He cleared his throat. “Yes, can you tell him I accidentally broke the mirror. This is his son.”

“Mhm, Tseng correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’ll write that down and put it in his office. A couple of the Turks have been asking, how is your summer?”

From being forced to try fishing with Veld to going to Costa del Sol and getting burnt in the process, not to mention Veld having to kill men from attempting a kidnap. Plus blood all over himself from his first kill, the cries of anguish he had as he basically bludgeon someone to death with a pipe. A smirk planted his lips. “The Turk way of enjoyment.”

The secretary fell silent, Tseng clearing his throat. “Ma’am I have to go before I rack up the water bill. Have a good day.” He hung up and quickly ran into the bathroom. 

A sigh of pleasure emerged from his lips, enjoying the nice stream of hot water cascading down his back, washing his hair with his injured hand. He winced here and there, grunting. How can Veld do this with his busted up hands when he gets injuries? Or maybe it’s how he has his hair looked: emerged from a blow dryer and side swept. Tseng gave up and leaned against the wall, letting the water hit his face. Left with his thoughts now, his mind wandered to the hot springs his mother brought him, happy shrills he gave off everytime he splashed. Maybe that’s what he wants with Veld, go to Wutai for a few days, enjoy the hot springs, have a meal with his father figure. Something to do if he isn’t grounded for breaking a mirror. 

Now that returned, time to think up an excuse. “I can just say I hate my reflection… no he wouldn’t buy it. I put too much time into my face every morning! And hair too.” he admits to himself. “Even though hormones strike near the bridge of my nose with acne, ugh! And this stubble too…” he shakes his hair like a dog, feeling it rest on his shoulders. “Think Tseng, think! What can Verd buy….?”

Time after he came out, he got dressed in basic clothing. Black dress shirt quarter sleeve to his elbows, a white pinstripe vest somewhat buttoned resting over it, black jeans rolled at the cuffs, and accompanied with a chain clicked in his belt loop. He flicks the tv back on, going to the hallway mirror to put a tie into place under the folds of his collar, sighing. He made sure it was tight as he sat down in front of the TV, dressed for the day despite it being almost eleven am. 

“Wutai is vulgar! To not allow mako reactors is a shame as they are backwards as that dumb village!” A reporter yelled. Oh boy, a racist. How new, Tseng thought to himself. “Emperor Godo is making a lost investment! He has a young daughter to take care of too!”

“Play the Princess Yuffie card…” Tseng grunted to himself. Ever since Yuffie was born, in his eyes Wutai seemed to have gotten worse over her lifespan. He sat with Veld multiple times, discussing Wutai problems. Veld listened to what Tseng remembered as a child as the older Turk listed off the problems he remembered growing up in the nation. That shocked the native, never knowing his adopted father lived in the main village of the Kisaragi clan. But that was a good few years back, when Yuffie was born. All in the past now. 

But the past kept returning. The more the reporter spat, the more Tseng wanted to punch another mirror. “Sheryl, what has the Wutai within Midgar done for any of the public? Those living among us, dressing like us, eating our food!” 

“Look bud we are human as you…” Tseng mumbled. He remembered a few times Veld brought him articles of Midgar clothing for him to wear when his traditional clothes were too hot. Sure it shunned his friends away, but he wasn’t sweating like a sow. Plus in the fall where he dressed in plaid with a jean coat over it, long jeans with sneakers, a fresh haircut too. All his friends made fun of him for wearing Midgar clothing, his teachers punished him for shunning traditional wear. Remembering days where he clapped chalkboard erasers together or stayed after to clean the classrooms. It was because of him (or he assumes) he was at fault for the uniform program being enforced. Hakamas for the boys, long skirts for the girls. When he saw Veld again, the man made sure he was comfy. But when he didn’t, he remembered his parents throwing out the clothes he was gifted. Anger swelled into him. 

“And those accents too! Drop the accent dumbass, welcome to Midgar!” The guy kept going. Tseng realized it was not a station Veld usually watched, him boiling with rage. His accent still lingered, the difficulty of saying Veld was hitting him, but he wasn’t so concerned. Veld didn’t get mad, no, he encouraged the nicknames. Verdy, Verdot, Verd, father. The teen sat back as he flexed his injured hand, curling his fingers up and then opening them wide and outward. He wished Veld was home, so he didn’t feel so afraid of racists coming for him. Tseng knew the death rate was going up from Wutain deaths, murders and rapes, slaughter of innocent families in the slums. Hell, Wall Market looked amazing on the news and that held Wutain in the area. Maybe it was more culturally diverse down in Sector 6, he wondered. Why Sector 8 to live in? Oh right, close to the ShinRa building. “Come on you guys can’t even land normal jobs! Nah you corrupt our children and friends into believing in that water snake Leviathan and making everything a cult! Saying we will be saved from His wrath isn’t helping us normal folk out!”

He got up and went to his bedroom, shaking. His hands were opening the drawer, fingers hitting the buttons and holding the flip phone to his ear. He knew who he called, just happy he picked up.

“Hello Tseng?” The Director of the Public Department was on the other end. Tseng called Reeve, knowing of what the man was developing. “Tseng is everything alright? Do you need me to bring you here?”

“Where is Verd…?” Tseng asked, trying to keep his voice strong. He was becoming an emotional mess. “Reeve… where is my father? I’m not okay right now..”

“I.. Veld is in a meeting at the moment over Wutai. I can come over and drive you here if you wish-“ Tseng hung up. He knew Reeve was only trying to help but he needed Veld. Someone who gets him, understands him. He wants one of his hugs and pats on the back, being told it was all a hoax.

The apartment felt suffocating, Tseng loosening his tie and sat at the counter top, reading the newspaper. Something to keep an ounce of him calm. His hands shook, fingers going into the paper. His mind went to how a large sum of his schoolyard friends were in the Wuteng now, training. And him being apart of ShinRa in the very near future, his stomach dropped. Tears hit his cheeks like rain, running faster than they ever have. His chest rose and fell with each sob, not noticing two strong arms were wrapped around him. 

“Tseng….” Veld whispered, holding his son tightly. Tseng turned his head and openly bawled into his blazer, sniffling. The Turk smelt of his usual cologne, a heavy musk to it but a nice sweet smell overlapping, a little hint of sweat and blood was coated in the mix, and then finally dry ribs. “Hey I’m right here son…”

The teen looked up at him, wiping at his eyes. “I’m such a crybaby…”

“No you are not. Do not be a emo teen right now. This is a stressful time for you, same with all the Wutain citizens living in Midgar. You… all of you guys are scared Wutai will go to war with ShinRa.” His gloved hands moved to Tseng’s shoulder, staring him into his red honey brown eyes. “But it’s gonna be alright. War isn’t pretty, but it’ll be over soon. Come on, I’ll take you to dinner, my treat.” 

Before they left, Tseng brought Veld to the bathroom, the Turk sighing. “I’ll replace it. It’s an easy fix, Vincent went back head into it when I pushed him on the sink,” he snickered. “But I’ll get a new one tomorrow, just use the hallway one for now. And I’ll clean this up as you rest up. Now get out, I gotta piss.” Tseng cracked a small smile and left, going across the hall to his bedroom. He fixed his dresser drawer, pushing it back in and sat right back on the bed, seeing a new message from Rufus. 

I’m sorry Tseng. About what my father is doing and know I do not support him on any of it!

Was the message. Tseng quickly typed back. I know it isn’t your fault, Rufus. Your father is the dictator of the company, he isn’t the mayor. But he acts like such, all high and mighty too. You, you are the bratty son who I gotta spoon feed you to eat, or fix that mug of a hair, or forge your history papers. You will never be Sr. ShinRa as long as I’m around buddy. 

He sighed and set the phone over his left breast, having it rest above where his heart was. He knows Rufus is not racist like his father, being more generous and open to Tseng. Plus, Rufus was pretty friendly with animals and other members of their class, but not calling them buddies or acquaintances. Tseng gained that years ago, a soft smile spread across his lips. He remembered seeing the Director of the SOLDIER program, Lazard. There was something about him that reminded him of Rufus, he just couldn’t think of it. 

A rap of a hand hit his doorframe, the teen sitting up and staring at Veld. The Turk has washed his face, his cheek scar having no stitching put in anymore, his corner lip one in a down heaval. His brown hair was brushed down, no fluff involved this time and his gray eyes… there was no emotion. He abandoned his black designer suit for a turtleneck and tan jacket with tan slacks and boots holding the slacks in. “Ready for dinner?”

“Mhm!” Tseng jumped up, following Veld out and down to the car. Veld walked next to his son, Tseng hearing a few people yell racist slurs at him. 

“Go home Wutain!” “You can’t speak English!”

Tseng got in the passenger seat, Veld getting in the drivers. The car started but they did not leave, the Wutai teen blinking. “Wha-“

“Don’t let them get to you.” Veld states. “Do not. They have nothing better to do in their lives and wanna torment other people because of their skin, their culture, their skin, it isn’t right. And it never will be. Racism should not be reciprocated back, Tseng. Don’t ever be racist.” He noticed Tseng was crying, not from the offensive words, but from Veld’s speech. He felt warmed by it, safe to know his adoptive father loves him. 

He hugged Veld tightly, smiling. “Thank you…” he let go of him, sitting back and clicking his seatbelt in, the two taking off to enjoy a meal together. “Hey… Verd, can we… can we go to Wutai?” 

“I’ll use my vacation days.”

“Is that a-“

“Yes. We’ll take off to Wutai, Dakota can watch the Turks and handle my meetings. You and I will enjoy some man time together. No training.” For once, Tseng felt a little bittersweet. He wants to work more on his outdoor hand to hand with the Turk, but he also loves to sleep in just an extra hour. “And enjoy some of those hot springs!” 

“Hell yea!” Tseng grinned from cheek to cheek, looking excited. Just what he wants. “And go Chocobo riding?”

Veld nodded. “Yes yes, we can do all that when we get there!” He turned the radio on, Tseng watching people go by out his tinted window. He heard Veld fiddle with the volume of the radio, gaining the teenager’s attention. 

Wutai has issued a war against ShinRa! I repeat, Wutai on August 25th, 1992 has gone to war with ShinRa!

His appetite dropped. His fun vacation left his mind. Tears ran down his face, sobbing. So his home nation is going against his future. He couldn’t believe this… why couldn’t Kisaragi just listen to ShinRa and put the reactors in?! Veld rubbed his shoulder, comforting him as they drove. Tseng realized that the Turks would need to be sent to Wutai on ShinRa business now, including Veld. The teen still remember how deadly the Wuteng were, very fast on their feet even in their heavy gear. And how his birth father trained him… 

Dinner went by in silence, Tseng picking at his crab rolls, Veld chowing down dumplings. The atmosphere was solemn in the restaurant on top of it, every patron listening to the news. Tseng was lost in his thoughts, realizing that once he goes into ShinRa, he will be an enemy of Wutai. He sniffled, taking his napkin and blowing his nose. In the end, Veld got their food to go, walking himself and his son back to the car. 

“Tseng.”

“What?” Tseng asked, looking at his father. “What is it Verd?”

He sighed. “I know, Wutai is your home and you care a lot about it. Like I said, the war will be over in a year. Promise!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6:

Academy

“How the hell are you so deaf to gun firing?” Tseng ask Veld one day, his ears were ringing badly, each time the pistol in his hand went off, every time his finger pulled the trigger. He sat at the counter, Veld getting him a bottle of water, uncapping it for him and slid it over to him. 

“Years of experience. I grew up in the slums kid,” he chuckled. Tseng noticed Veld never really talked about his life. He knew he lived in Wutai for a time so he must have come to Midgar young then. If it was six years old, he was going to lose it. “Once you are handed a gun, a knife, a glass bottle with the bottom missing, you grow up fast.”

Tseng moves the bottle around in his hand, smirking. “Throw it, your cleaning dishes for a month.” Veld threatened. The Wutai teen thought against it and set it next to him at the counter, cracking open an assignment file Veld brought home. “I’ll go over it with you and help you out, okay? You begin the academy tomorrow. Once you go in, you will come out a rookie Turk, put on partner rotation, put on files and await your first mission. You understand me?”

The fifteen year old nodded, Veld explaining the mission to him. “So because Charlie has a mission tomorrow, he and North will be going to Icicle Inn. This is the mission he is receiving and will be drilled into him once he reads it. The Inn is heard to have some threats of black market activity. North will disguise herself as a black market patron while Charlie rigs up explosives to the stolen goods. It’s better to destroy them than to save them at the moment, only prototypes. If the exchange goes to shit, kill everyone and leave immediately then call for clean up. If the mission goes correct, we take in the hostility and interrogate them Turk style. They will hopefully give us the names of the thieves that took the prototypes.” 

Tseng already understood the mission. Black market dealers, disguise, clean up crew, he nodded. “It doesn’t sound too tough.” he admits. “It sounds really easy.”

“It isn’t.” Veld snapped the folder shut, picking it up and holding it under his arm. “Tseng, the words on the paper look easy and the photo too. But doing the job is tough. You are fifteen, you have yet to shed anyone’s blood from their body. Or so I hope you haven’t. What you gotta understand is that this isn’t child’s play. You have a pistol, you know how to use it or you are learning to, but you are young. The moment you shed blood you will panic. It’s why we have partners, to keep ourselves thinking. After a while, solo missions happen and you get used seeing so much blood, dead bodies, assisting clean up crews. Then interrogation hits and you get to torture them if they refuse to fess up anything. So Tseng.” His hands set on the counter. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

~*~

He stood before the doors to the academy. The military academy was close to Shinra, placed in Sector 2. Only a train ride back to HQ and he can get a ride home with Veld. It was now or never, to make a move to go inside. Or ignore his ambition, his want to become a Turk. Folding his fists, he walked right inside, the doors closing behind him. It looked a bit peaceful, the ShinRa logos placed on the walls, different classes. Infantry, Turk agent, SOLDIER, medical corps, clean up crews, intel, many classes were listed. 

“Excuse me?” He forced his voice to be mature, deepening his voice. Puberty hit him like a truck a year ago and since then his voice was cracking all over. He walked up to reception and looked at the woman, bowing before her. 

“Hello there, can I help you?” 

He took a deep breath, keeping the maturity from wavering. “The Turks.” he answered. Her eyes widened, immediately typing into her computer. “Dragoon, Tseng.” 

A few clicks went by and a roster was up on the screen, him reading names. He doubted he would see Rufus, remembering his tears and cries of anguish when he didn’t make it in. Then he took Tseng’s chips and munched on them, Tseng not caring then. He was celebrating that he got accepted. The mouse went over a image, her clicking on it as a new tab opened.

Tseng Dragoon

Age: 15

Date of birth: August 29th, 1977

Blood type: O-

Nationality: Wutain 

Guardian: Veld M. Dragoon

Class: rookie Turk, Class-1B. 

Teacher: Dakota Ophen 

Address: 152nd Boulevard, Frantiso’s Apartments — Sector 8, Midgar 

“Ah yes. Here you are Mr. Dragoon,” she said. “There was a slight mix up so you are not in A-L. Instead, you are in M-Z, the B class.”

“Is that bad?”

“No silly. You kids or shall I say Turks, will be taught the same curriculum as the others.” she answered. “So do not fret, you will be the same as everyone else. Now you are enrolled in private classes to continue your education here instead of the ShinRa School.”

He looked disappointed at that. So he won’t see Rufus for a good long while, unless he goes to the ShinRa building. “That makes sense. So no one knows I’m in the Turk program right?”

“It would be easier for you to not go to two different schools and be stressed out.” she corrected. He won’t get his little kisses from Rufus now, or see him sleep in class. But he was a brat at times and that remembrance of him being a brat rose fear up his throat. Rufus will get his ass kicked, oh gods he hoped he wouldn’t be bratty to the upper classmen. “Are you alright, Mr. Dragoon?”

“Uh, yes. I am.” He lied. Not. Rufus was dog meat, he was doomed. “What time do classes get done and over with?”

“I believe two pm.”

He relaxed. Tseng can go and wait for Rufus when class ends for him. He got what he needed from the receptionist: schedule, ID tag that had his grade eight photo in, and a uniform all in his size. She gave him directions, him going up the steps and to one of the classrooms with an open door, seeing other kids talking. 

Future Turks right here. Or future whatever. But he could see some of them chuckling like they were kindergarten friends, something Tseng doesn’t had. No Wutain, he was the only one in this class that was from Wutai. Born and raised too. He awkwardly stood there, not sure what to do. Talk to one of them? But what if they were racist? Take my seat? But where does he sit? He held the uniform close to his chest, wishing Rufus was here. His comfort, someone to lay his head on when he felt frightened. Or Veld, to ask for advice. 

“Are you alright, Wutai?” He heard a voice, turning and seeing a tall male with a tan, smiling down at him. He had on sunglasses, his left ear having a couple piercings lining the lobe, a nice after shadow seen too. “Or is that racist to say-“

“It’s alright to say I’m not offended.” Tseng answered, showing the tall male his ID. “I just tran-tran..”

“Transferred?”

“Thank you.”

The male nodded and set his ID back in his sweaty palms, chuckling. “Okay, Tseng. I’m Rude.”

“Oh sorry…” he looked down.

“No dumb, it’s my name. Rude Murdrow.” The bald teen said, chuckling more. “Everyone says that. And you are Tseng Dragoon.”

Tseng nods. “Yes. Yes I am.” he confirmed. Rude came off as a nice guy, showing Tseng to his seat after the Wutai teen told him what happened. 

“Man that sucks Tseng. Sorry that happened.” Rude apologized. 

“I don’t care, if my best friend was here, I would not mind the screw up.” Tseng wrapped his backpack straps around the back of his chair. 

Rude noticed a pin hanging off the strap, eyes widening. “Dark Chocobo? No way.” The Wutai grinned. Rude likes Dark Chocobo just like he does. Rufus got the pin for him as a birthday gift, saying only a hundred were manufactured. “That is so legendary… man I wish I could have it.”

He bit his lip. “My friend got it for me last year. When he came back from Corel Village.” he sounded nervous. He doesn’t want many to know he was friends with Rufus. Then all of them will be begging to meet the heir to daddy’s company. That is something he did not want happening. “Hey Rude..?” Tseng squeaked out. “You wanna, come over later? To watch the Dark Chocobo special at five?”

“Really?” Rude eyes widened. “That is the nicest gesture ever. Thank you.” Tseng took the moment to look into his eyes, a deep dark brown. “Huh?” 

“Sorry,” Tseng blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your eyes are uh, really soft and uh, deadly. Like a Turk-“

Rude grinned. “I know your dad is Veld, but how many Turks do you know?” 

Tseng chuckled and shook his head. “You can meet Verd later. I know a lot of Turks, they get into so much shit. Well I mean, on the field and in the office, they cut loose and do pranks to each other. Dad says it’s a uh, bonding way since we are all a giant family. Some day, these guys in here will be our family too. Turks though, they die on the field too. You can’t retire…”

“Ouch, so this is a last chance to leave the situation now?” he ask. “Like, leavin this class and never becoming a Turk?”

“You got it.” 

A loud voice clearly was heard behind Tseng specifically. “Mr. Dragoon.” 

“Dakota.” Tseng greeted, turning and facing him. “Sorry, Mr. Ophen…” he scurried to sit down, Rude followed behind in his movement. The cadet sat up, looking Dakota right in the eyes. 

“My name is Dakota Ophen, a second in command Turk from ShinRa. Now, all of you here are going to be following my lead.” Dakota began. “Every student here will be touring the ShinRa building, learning about each different departments we have. Who here will be going into Administrative Research?”

Tseng and Rude brought their hands up, a few other students following their lead. Dakota grinned. “Alright then. I’m sure everyone here is settled on joining the Turks, knowing it’s deadly. Who here will be joining SOLDIER?” Practically almost all the males raised their hands. “Then you guys must’ve gotten your Mako injections to adjust to it all. The science department?” This went on for a while, Tseng growing bored and fiddling with his hands, having slipped on the black leather gloves that were with his uniform. He likes how they wrapped around his wrists perfectly, tightening the straps to his likeliness. No other student had these gloves, him knowing they were a gift from Dakota. His first pair of Turk gloves, almost like a pair of baby shoes. 

“Good. Everyone does know there are entry exams to intern those programs except for SOLDIER. You boys will be selected and taken from school, entering infantry and to 3rd class. If you aren’t here later in the month, nice knowin ya enjoy Lazard.” Dakota chuckled. “Now, you are wondering why a Turk is teaching this class? Well, I’ve been in the field for years and since everyone will need to learn tactics. Once you guys learnt the basics, those that won’t be turks will be taken to different classes for those fields come December. Merry Christmas.” He turned and began writing dates on the board, writing December 7th. “This is medical. Those students that show up will take the exam and if you get a pleasing score, you are moved from this class.”

Next date; December 16th. “The public development exam. You students will take this and be transferred immediately to these classes. You will be sent through college courtesy of the director, Reeve Tuesti. Show amazing scores, you will be working right away in his department.” Another date, January 3rd. “Weapons. This is building weapons, forming materia, that like. There will be two portions, written and demonstration. Scarlet will come and monitor you entering this field and assisting somewhat on materia fusion.”

January 8th. “Infantry. Heidegger and Lazard will come and watch since you guys will not be taking an exam, more of combat training and an exercise course. Why Lazard shows up is because if you show SOLDIER capabilities, you will enter SOLDIER immediately.” January 10th. “Science department. Director Hojo and Hollander will come and monitor the examination as well as ask you questions. Make it in, immediate in the science department.” 

January 19th, 20th, and 21st. “The Turk examination. Why we have three dates is because every director will be here on the 20th. All the Turks as well on the 21st. The nineteenth is the exam, the twentieth is the combat, and the twenty first is the training course. Director Veld will be there on all three days, but to those he selected himself to be here, will not receive special treatment.” Dakota smirked and stood to the side. “The spring semester will be focused on the departments you have been welcomed into. No departments welcome you, you’ll be placed in business. Nothing special.”

Tseng grinned excitedly, Rude looking pumped. Both teens had written down the dates for the Turks examinations, Tseng pumped. Everything he’s been training for for six years is finally coming in play. Dakota continued speaking, Tseng not focused on any of it. The teen fiddled with his gloves more, flexing his fingers. He decided to look at his schedule, quietly reading it over. At least second period is his free period, him having all Turk-like classes plus the basic ones from the private academy. He was placed in Algebra 2, advanced English, college history, but basic science. A visit to the in school gun range would be fun… 

Rude grinned when the bell rung, going to talk to him but Dakota jumped on that boat. “Tseng. A word- oh, you made a new friend.” Dakota fixed his black tie, looking down at Rude. “You are Rude, correct?”

“Yes sir. Future Turk.” He saluted. Tseng noticed something unique, he wore sunglasses indoors. Does the light bother him? 

Dakota saluted him back and sent him off. “Tseng, pull up a chair. And get changed in that uniform.” He closed the door, taking a seat at the desk. The teen put the school uniform on, tucking in the dress shirt and applying the sweater vest, fixing his collar. The slacks were a bit long but he would do, zipping up his suit jacket. “President ShinRa is already aware of you joining the Turks. He told the school to give you our blue suit early, so wear that jacket when you are not near other students. Director Veld wants you on a mission with him when you pass all your exams. So let that be a goal-“

“I still have my goals.” Tseng spoke up. “Sir, I know Verd cannot assist me anymore. But he can assist me with normal school work still, correct?”

The older man nodded. “Yes yes, of course he can. But no more asking about the Turks, no more seeing them. If others find out you have the advantage…”

“I’ll be killed by them. I know and I’ll keep it quiet. But not to Rude though, I trust him a lot.” he said. “And he wants to be a Turk too! He really does so, so I believe in him!”

Dakota moves around in his chair, rolling over to Tseng and looking him in the honey brown eyes he has. “That is your decision. But if you are found in a body bag, that is your own fault. ShinRa cannot protect the cadets if they are harmed by other cadets. Do I make myself clear, Dragoon?”

“Yes… sir.” He grabbed his bag and looked at Dakota. The Wutai was actually sad. They knew they were training an orphan close to his age group and just brought in a redhead boy from the slums named Reno Sinclair. He would miss Olivia’s sweetness to him and Carte’s jokes, Charlie and Balto coming to get him to drag to the Turks HQ. 

He left the classroom solemnly, unzipping his coat. He can come up with a lie about it, right now he just needs to find Rude and talk to him. But, he might have another class. He explored, finding an indoor swimming pool, knowing everyone must take PE, he wandered into the library and got his ID situated, registering for a library card. The cafeteria was smaller than the ShinRa one, but held such good food choices. The teenager ordered himself a muffin, munching on it while walking. The gun range was large and expansive, him hearing gunshots go off. Plus bomb building too. The campus was large, with dormitories found on the other end. Knowing he won’t be in them, he walked to a building that looked like it had a basic curriculum. 

“Oh, you are Tseng. Sorry Mr. Dragoon you aren’t scheduled to be over here until eleven am.” The receptionist spoke up. 

“I know, I’m exploring at the moment.” Tseng smiled. She was such a nice and sweet lady, him looking about the area. Couches for waiting, plus a door leading to the lockers. So much money goes into this campus, accompanying many students that their future lies with ShinRa. He walked out, checking the time and quickly running to the locker room, knowing third was his gym. 

Locker, founded. Gym clothes too within. Plus a swim uniform too, him grinning. At least it wasn’t speedos, he could do with trunks. Tying his hair into a bun, he heard a familiar voice and saw Rude next to him, having the locker right there. “Hey!” Tseng greeted, extending his hand to him. 

“What do you want me to shake your hand right now?” Rude ask. “You are half naked dude.”

Tseng sighed and shook his head. “Yes well we are all guys here,” he argued. He rolled his eyes and pulled the shirt over his head, stretching a bit. “You still wanna come over today? I’m sorry for how Mr. Ophen treated you-“

“Yes I’m still coming over today. His treatment won’t make me change my mind. Besides, you got roots planted into the Turks.” Rude teased, closing the locker. “Let’s go bud.” The two walked silently out and into the gym, seeing it very different than how a public school would. There were machines, infantry rigging them up. Heidegger was there, Tseng having a hefty dislike for the man. How he treats the Turks, how he treats Rufus, it made his blood boil. 

Rude kept Tseng close, the two discussing quietly among each other. They weren’t talking turk business, instead they were talking geek business, asking each other questions. Tseng eyes lit up. “You have a limited edition glow in the dark comic of Magic Moogle?!”

“Mhm. Had it when I was seven.” Rude answered. “You have that limited edition signed poster though, that is better.”

“No it isn’t, a comic that glows in the dark so you can read at night is amazing! I would’ve killed for that growing up!” Tseng disliked Magic Moogle as a child, finding the Moogle too nice and not crime fighting awesome as Dark Chocobo. “Hey did you hear how Dark Chocobo got a sidekick?”

Rude was about to answer when Heidegger pulled Tseng away. “You bastard! I was about to talk about the new sidekick!” He yelled in Wutain, it sounded very rusty. 

Heidegger grabbed him by the bun, throwing him into the office. “Get that Wutain goin’ again. That is the only useful thing to you.” 

Tseng crosses his arms, sighing. “No it isn’t. Verd said-“

“Veld said nothing.” Heidegger pushed Tseng against the wall, staring down at him. “And he won’t say anything to you anymore. No more turk business for you, school runt. You are now shut out of turk hq, orders from ShinRa himself.”

The teen wanted to cry and scream. If he was being relocated, he would be upset. Veld was the only ever father he ever had, not counting his birth one of course. He kept a stern face, glaring up at Heidegger. “Yes well, I cannot be relocated. Verdot is my legal guardian and you taking me away will result in heavy legal issues.”

Little shit. Heidegger noticed he figured a loop hole out, Tseng quickly leaving the office. Just make it through the day and he can get home easily. 

School was absolute hell now. He had to run from class to class, get to the other building in time. The walk home was unbearable, him having to tell Rude they need to reschedule. Trudging into the apartment, he ignored Veld and threw his backpack on the counter, going straight for his bedroom. From there, he crashed into the bed, his mind racing and tears running. 

He hated being such a crybaby.