The first time he saw Aerith smile, she'd been thirteen, and had just prevented herself from tripping over Elmyra's broom.
He'd been working, as he was now, for the Turks. His mind was on other things besides the teenager in front of him. Although Tseng was still a teenager, he felt he was mature for his age. The proof of it was in the fact that he was a member of the Turks and far from the bottom in the hierarchy.
Inside, he sighed a little when he watched the little girl. For someone who was ruthlessly climbing the ranks, he was a little bothered when told his job was to keep an eye out for this little girl, even if she was the last cetra.
"Aerith!" Her mother chided with a sigh of defeat when Aerith dashed past her to the pot of flowers nearby. Flowers? In Section 7? Tseng wondered how they'd managed to get flowers. It was hard enough to come by them above the plate.
Having been ignored long enough, Tseng coughed loudly. Aerith glanced over at him, her facial expression showed that she was worried by the new person in the room.
"Hello," Tseng greeted Elmyra.
Suspiciously, Elmyra watched Tseng. "Hello," she responded in turn.
"I'm Tseng. From Shinra. I have come regarding your... daughter."
"I know," defiantly, Elmyra's hands tightened on the broomstick.
Tseng paused, unwilling to be assaulted by a broom. "Aerith is very important to Shinra and we would like her to come back-"
"I'm not going back." Aerith stated firmly, drawing the attention of the other two in the room. Her fists clenched, she stared at Tseng. "I'm staying here."
Tseng chuckled a little at Aerith's objection. For the first time in over two years, he felt like he was back home with the family he left behind, arguing over something stupid and inane.
"Alright," he finally said, trying not to laugh, "you can stay here."
The teenager broke into a smile that Tseng found himself reciprocating.
Even though Tseng walked the way she imagined a QiLin would – silent and without noise – she often knew when he was keeping an eye on her. Aerith didn't mind. Although she'd resented his presence at first, she'd grown accustomed to it. It made her feel less alone.
That one day she'd startled him when he was trying to watch her tend the flowers at the church. After a few moments of tense silence where she'd attempted not to laugh at his baffled expression, Tseng slipped back into his usual state.
"Good morning," he greeted her.
"Good morning. Isn't today your birthday?" He checked his watch for the date and Aerith watched a light bulb go on in his head. "You forgot, didn't you?"
"Why does my birthday matter?" Tseng asked. "And how do you know it's my birthday?" He asked with a rather interested look.
"A birdie told me," Aerith joked. It was somewhat true, she supposed.
Tseng shook his head at her. The flowers nearby moved in the wind the open church door let in. With a smile, she turned her attention back to them, noticing him watching her.
"Tseng?" The question broke the peaceful silence.
"Yes?"
"Why isn't your birthday important to you?"
Shrugging, Tseng helped pull out a few weeds. "It stopped being important after I joined the Turks."
Sitting back on her heels, Aerith looked at Tseng. As was normal, he was wearing his usual serene expression. "Can I give you a present?" Aerith asked curiously.
"If you want to," he responded.
Leaning forwards, Aerith placed a kiss on his cheek and watched as the normally stoic man flushed bright red.
"Happy birthday," she wished him while giggling at his impression of a goldfish.