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15. Naifu – Hotshot

.

"Hey, Youhei?"

Youhei didn't unfold her arms or open her eyes. "What, brat?"

Naifu pursed her lips. Yeah, she was young, but there was no need for everyone to keep reminding her of it. It wasn't like she was some stupid teenager, and she bet she had more life experience than any of her teammates thought she did. Of course, since she refused to talk about those experiences, and took pains to act like they'd never happened, the other Turks could be forgiven for not treating her with as much respect as they did each other. She was scatter-brained and clumsy, and it was easy to forget she was also an assassin with a hundred percent success rate.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that."

"Whaddya want, brat?"

"Just came to see if you wanted anything to eat. I'm fixing some food, if you're interested."

"I'm not. Piss off."

Naifu was used to Youhei's temperament. When she'd entered the rec room to find the new TV was busted, she'd known who the culprit would be. She'd also known not to hold it against Youhei. It had to be tough, being the one nearest the action when Sephiroth went loopy, and being unable to do anything – especially for a perfectionist like Youhei. She was always competing with Kakutou, the only other martial arts expert on the Turk payroll, and drove herself harder than anyone to be the best when she thought she was slipping.

Well, anyone except Rod, but that was a whole other kettle of fish. Rod had a perfectionist complex like whoa!

"You sure?" Naifu pressed.

"What part of 'piss off' didn't you understand?"

"The part where you stand in the corridor staring at a wall for nearly an hour and expect me to leave you alone. And the part where you seem to have this really, really big grudge against televisions when you're in a snip. C'mon. Come eat with me."

Youhei finally squinted at her. "What are you, some kind of nun being kind to the poor little peons? I ain't a charity case you need to take care of, brat, and I don't need you to come sticking your beak into my business. Piss. Off."

"But –"

"We're not friends. I don't even like you. You don't have to come looking for me. You don't have to do anything but work with me. If we're not on duty together, just leave me the hell alone. I don't need counselling just because you would in my place, and I don't feel guilty about dobbing in that SOLDIER and his pal so Hojo could make mincemeat out of them –" She stopped, annoyance crossing her face. "Just piss off, brat. Go play with your dollies or something, and leave me the hell lone." With that she stalked way.

Naifu stuck her tongue out at Youhei's retreating back.

"Yeah, 'cause that's really gonna make people think you're mature."

She whirled. "You!" She whirled back again and folded her arms. "I'm not talking to you."

Legend grinned. "Any particular reason?"

"You're a bad influence."

"Yeah, right. Like you're that impressionable."

"I wouldn't have gotten in trouble if it hadn't been for your stupid cherry bomb –"

"Which you stole from me."

"That's beside the point."

"Whatever you say, kid."

"Quit calling me that! I have a name!"

He held up his palms, surprised at her vehemence. "Whoa, cool it, hotshot. Dial down the temper."

Naifu turned her scowl into a pout. "I'm not some little kid," she said petulantly.

"Then stop sounding like one. Going after Youhei when she wants some time alone? Even you're not that thick-headed. And 'I wouldn't have gotten in trouble'? I really hope you weren't being serious." Legend sighed. "This dump could use some lightening up lately."

Naifu dropped her gaze. She missed Cissnei. They were closest in age among the Turks and, while they weren't exactly best buds, she could usually count on Cissnei not to chew her out, patronise or talk down to her, mock her, or treat her like a child.

Or maybe what she actually wanted back was the lack of tension from before the Nibelheim Incident. Everything had gone weird since then. Even Tseng, and that was saying something. Most of the Turks were jumpier than a box of hot frogs. Last time she went on patrol with Rod, he'd been tense as a high wire and barely said three words to her the whole time.

And those three words were 'Just shut up'. Naifu sighed. "I'm going to go fix my food now. Which roughly translates as: I'm going to go pour water on my noodles and choke them down because I'm a terrible cook but I haven't been able to eat Wutaian takeout since you ruined it for me."

"Is that a request for me to cook you dinner?"

Naifu blinked. "It wasn't, but if you're offering …?"

"I don't cook," Legend said flatly.

"Figures." She sighed. "This sucks. This all majorly, majorly sucks. With bells on!"

"I'm with you on that one, ki- hotshot. Won't hear no disagreement from me."

Naifu caught the slip, but the fact he had too, and hadn't called her kid, made her feel slightly better.

Slightly.

Hey, take your victories where you can. "You want to share my noodles?"

Legend raised the eyebrow over his good eye. "Now there's an offer you don't hear every day. Unless it's a euphemism." His leer could have peeled paint.

Naifu tossed her head, whipping strands of dark hair from her face in what she hoped was a windswept and casual kind of way. "You wish. You're totally not my type."

"Oh? And what is your type?"

"Not old letches like you."

Legend looked affronted. He drew himself up tall. "I ain't old!"

Naifu smirked. Apparently she wasn't the only one sensitive about her age – something she intended to take advantage of. "Suuure. C'mon, Gramps. I'll even mash your food up for you so your dentures can handle it."