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7. Youhei – Observer

Youhei was good at her job, whatever it happened to be. As a mercenary she'd taken her share of raw deals, experienced enough betrayals to watch for the tell-tale signs in her comrades, and learned when to bail and when to stick with a job. She wasn't loyal to anyone except herself.

She wasn't sure what had changed. Maybe she'd just grown tired of the constant chopping and changing, always having to watch her back and never able to relax for fear of someone betraying her for their own highest bidder. Maybe she was just getting careless in her old age, letting herself believe stuff that only kids really believed in.

Or maybe working with Veld and his Turks, and having someone finally show faith that was more than just part of a contract she'd signed, had made its own changes to Youhei's character. Whatever the reason, her interpretation of loyalty had been altering for a while now; her interpretation of betrayal as well. When she and a bunch of other Turks kidnapped President Shinra's son and held him to ransom so they could aid Veld, even though he'd deserted, that was the very definition of betrayal. They'd all broken their contracts and turned on their employer. No mercenary worth their salt would see it as any less than outright betrayal. Yet it had also been the very definition of loyalty, too. Likewise when Tseng got Shinra to leave them all alive, but sold out Veld and his daughter, the AVALANCHE leader Elfé, to buy his Turks their lives and their freedom. Youhei had been forced to rewrite her entire definition of loyalty and still wasn't sure what it was anymore.

But this type of high-level betrayal? She hadn't seen this coming. Not after Genesis Rhapsodos. Not after Angeal Hewley. Not at all.

She pressed her phone to her ear and hoped the signal was strong enough to get through all this metal. It was, and picked up after just one ring.

"Tseng."

"Boss-man," Youhei said in what was, for her, a soft whisper, but which echoed in the open space of the chamber like a foghorn.

Kind of like the heavy breathing of that SOLDIER, and the infantryman who'd just fallen down the stairs headfirst. The SOLDIER had reached for him right before passing out, creating a bizarre tableau that struck an unidentifiable chord in Youhei. Comrades to the end. Brothers in arms. Stuff she'd never believed in until relatively recently, when she almost jacked in her contract with Shinra to go after Veld and help him save his daughter. She'd never reneged on a contract before. She'd never felt strongly enough about anything or anyone to sever a deal before she got paid. This Turk gig had been a regular income after years of hand-to-mouth living, which had appealed to her, but it had brought so much more than a bank account with actual Gil in it.

Now she was once again being confronted by the kind of loyalty she'd thought only existed in stories, and what was she doing? Calling Tseng to tell him about it. Her own kind of loyalty, and it didn't mesh well with the scene before her, since her report would bring Shinra out here, and Shinra would not be happy.

It sort of made a mockery of her spending her Phoenix Down on the kid with the giant stab wound in his gut. Save him, and then turn him in. Yeah, Youhei, great plan.

She stared at the kid's face as she talked. And he really was just a kid. She bet he'd never even imagined half the stuff she'd seen and done – or what his SOLDIER buddy had seen and done, come to that. She recognised Zack Fair. Cissnei was sweet on him, or something. Hard to tell with that girl, but there was definitely more on Cissnei's side than she was letting on. Fair had been in Wutai during the war. That was enough on its own, but he'd also faced off against Rhapsodos during the Mass SOLDIER Desertion Incident, and killed his own mentor when Hewley went spiralling into his own bit of craziness. No, no way this blond kid, with his unscarred cheeks and hint of puppy fat, had known true betrayal and hardship.

Not before today, anyway.

"Youhei here."

Her voice tore up the air like a cheese grater. It could never be described as melodious. Her mother used to say it was like she'd been gargling battery acid. Big words from a woman whose sixty-a-day habit and nightly drinking had not only put her into an early grave, but also lowered her voice so many octaves she was a tenor by her death at age thirty-five. Not that her daughter had mourned her. Youhei was just glad she could finally quit telling people she'd walked into doors and fallen down stairs when she was really as agile as a squirrel.

Youhei's accent was as hard on the ears as one of her punches, her nasally twang was as abrasive as her manner, but not right now. Right now she was shocked under her business-like tone.

Case in point: "What is it?" Tseng shouldn't have had to ask. If she was calling, something was up. He'd sent her out to Nibelheim on pure recon, which should've meant coming home and filing a report like usual. A phone call meant only Bad Things.

And how.

"It's Sephiroth," Youhei said. "Something happened. He went off the deep end."

"What?"

"He's dead, sir."