Night of September 27, and Morning of September 28

Kunsel sat there for several heartbeats, eyes unseeing on the screen, every muscle tense, waiting for the attack that never came. Waiting, in fact, for any further move from the doorway, but whoever was there seemed content to let him make the next move.

"You know Zack?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral. He didn't turn around.

"I knew him."

Past tense. So the speaker knew of his death. Question was, how much else did they know?

"So it's true." Complete ignorance was closed to him, but playing dumb couldn't hurt. After all, he was just up here to find out when his best friend would be coming back, right?

"He's dead, if that's what you mean." Still no inflection in the voice.

Kunsel dared to move enough to close the open files, logging out of the computer quickly and, he hoped, discreetly. His hand rested over the data drive - he thanked the Goddess that he'd had it there the whole time - and as he slowly stood and turned, he palmed the device and slid it into his pocket.

A short woman stood in the doorway, wavy chestnut hair slightly mussed, but with a battle-ready stance. She was wearing the black uniform of the Turks.

"Ah. Hello -" He searched for her name. He was sure Zack had mentioned someone of her description, a long time ago...after returning from Costa del Sol. "Cissnei."

Her eyes were hard, blank behind long lashes. "And you, SOLDIER?"

For a split second, he considered lying, but decided against it. She was a Turk. She probably had known who he was before she'd even come up here.

"Kunsel, Second Class." He'd never before been as grateful for his helmet as he was now. Then, deciding it was time for a strategic retreat, he added, "Thanks for...letting me know. 'Night." He stepped forward, shoulders relaxed and demeanor unthreatening, but she tensed and stood straighter. He stopped, there being no way around her unless she moved.

She stared at him with guarded brown eyes, measuring every inch of him. For once, Kunsel, who prided himself on being able to know almost instinctively a person's character, drew a complete blank, while this woman seemed to read him as easily as a book. It made him more than a little uncomfortable. He took the opportunity to look her over in turn, knowing that his eyes were hidden behind the helmet. If she felt his stare, she gave no indication of it.

At last she stirred, relaxing her body and letting her hand fall from the back of her belt. "Such loyalty to a comrade is admirable."

Kunsel shrugged, hoping she would just let him go now. She did step aside and he slipped past, containing his nerves and keeping his pace nonchalant. He was halfway back to the elevators - she hadn't moved from the doorway - when she said quietly, "It's your methods that are questionable."

He turned around. If she knew anything about SOLDIERs, she knew that he would have heard her when she spoke. However, she was paying him no attention, instead looking at the office floor, her hands at her sides. He waited there a moment, but when it was clear she had no more to say, he walked on, entering the elevator and pushing the button for a random floor. No sense giving away his exact location.

Cissnei's presence had almost shaken him more than the information he had gathered tonight. What had happened to enhanced hearing giving advance warning? He scoffed at the idea that even Turks could sneak up on a SOLDIER, but he could think of no better explanation, except that he had let his guard slip.

The car bumped to a stop. He waited a moment, then punched the button for his own floor. He'd go over the data in the morning; right now he needed sleep, enhancements notwithstanding. Two all-nighters and the emotional trauma took their toll and he crashed on his bunk, hardly bothering to take off his boots and helmet. For once, his roommates' snoring didn't disturb him as he slipped swiftly into a deep sleep, the data drive clutched in his hand.

Cissnei stood in Heidegger's doorway for an unnecessarily long time, waiting until the grind of cables from the elevator had ceased. Only then did she remember the watchman, long overdue on his rounds. In a flash, she was in the office, whipping through the stack of reports on the desk. There was her own, short and uninformative; below it was Rude's. Without giving it a second glance, she rolled it up and stuffed it into her pocket just in time to hear the guard's footsteps outside.

The computer was already off, and the only lights on were the auxiliary lights anyway, so the room was fairly dark...but not dark enough to hide a person, even a black-clad Turk. Then she thought of - what was his name? - Kunsel's diversion, and couldn't suppress a slight smile as the footsteps hurried into the other office.

She raced down the hall to the stairwell door, knowing her steps would be light enough to go unheard. She didn't make a sound until the door behind her closed with a click, but she didn't wait for the guard to come investigate. She practically leapt down the stairs, tired as she was, and was back on the Turk floor in five minutes, and in her own quarters in another minute.

Only then did she take out the report and head straight for the kitchenette. She was almost there when she looked down at the paper in her hand. It was none of her business, she knew, and she disliked spying on her co-workers, but she did want to know what Rude had written about the mission. Despite the hour, she sat down at her desk, ignoring the crumpled letters on the floor from earlier, and unrolled the report.

As she read the several pages of detailed description, trust in her comrade grew in proportion to her feelings of guilt. Rude had been thorough to a fault, but some details seemed to have slipped through the cracks. Including the feathers and Cissnei's reluctance to follow the trail toward the city. Gaia, how could she not have trusted him, when with every mission she entrusted her life to his hands? She sincerely hoped that he wouldn't get in trouble for not submitting a report, because now she felt a renewed sense of companionship with the man. Even if she would never be able to express it.

The report still needed to be burned - she couldn't very well return it, and if such incriminating evidence was found in her possession... She proceeded on to the oven, pulled out a baking sheet, and dropped the paper on it. A match made quick work of it, and she stood watching until the last curled ashes disintegrated. She considered waiting to clean it up in the morning, but habits were hard to break and she dumped everything into the sink, giving it a cursory rinse.

Dead tired, she stumbled to her bedroom and collapsed on her back on the bed, but sleep refused to come. There had been a SOLDIER on the upper floor - how had that happened? She refused to believe that he'd been simply wanting to know what had happened to Zack. She didn't know that he was who he claimed to be. It was Heidegger's office: all Turk, SOLDIER, and police reports went through there. He could have been looking at goddess-knew-what. She didn't really care. As long as he didn't turn her in, she would forget she'd ever seen him...which would actually be fairly easy to do, considering the chaotic hell of the rest of the world.

Something big was building. Tseng had wanted to tell her, but for some reason hadn't. He had instead delivered a warning. She would have been blind not to recognize that Tseng wasn't really concerned about her emotional well-being when he'd suggested company leave. He'd wanted her to get away, far away, and soon. Anger welled up toward him. What was there that he felt she wasn't equipped to handle? No one else she knew had been offered leave... But then, when was the last time she'd heard from the others?

Last month? No, that had only been herself, Reno, Rude, and the rookie, Elena. And she'd never met, only heard of, the nine new recruits brought in - how many months ago? And where were those people now? She wasn't sure of anything anymore, except one fact: she was being intentionally left out of the loop. She briefly thought of going to Tseng and flat-out asking him, but if he'd been inclined to tell her anything, he already would have done so. Maybe this was a test of her ingenuity. Very well.

If a SOLDIER could sneak into a high-security office and steal data, so could she. Only she wouldn't get caught.

Tomorrow.

She was asleep in minutes.

President Shinra could think of numerous better ways to be spending his morning than sitting in a 31st-floor meeting room waiting on subordinates. The first four Turk-SOLDIER pairs had been punctual to their individual briefings, had received their assignments, and had left civilly, but this last Turk seemed not willing to appear until doomsday. Shinra drummed his pudgy fingers on the tabletop.

Heidegger glanced up from where he wasn't really looking at the papers scattered in front of him, then tucked his head back down like a turtle. Tseng, Rude, and Elena had been too polite to mention it, and Reno had been distracted, but it was likely only a matter of time before someone mentioned the late memo regarding this meeting. Yes, he'd been asked several days ago to send it out, but he'd kept forgetting and more important matters had gotten in the way, putting off sending out the message until that very morning.

At least everyone had managed to show up - until now.

"Get me some more coffee, dear," Shinra said, turning to Scarlet.

The blonde executive looked up from her paperwork and sighed, scowling as she got up and headed for the door.

Heidegger looked up from where he'd been giving a passable impression of being asleep. "Me, too."

Aware of the president's eyes on her, Scarlet smiled poisonously at the overweight incompetent, and left, murder written on her eyebrows. It was Kunsel's bad luck that she met him in the corridor outside.

"About time you showed up," she snapped, not really caring who was behind the blank helmet. "Keeping the president waiting like this ought to get you demoted!"

Kunsel backed a pace, not because he was in the least bit intimidated by her or her threat, but because submissive behavior usually pacified higher-ups. Scarlet seemed to be in a particularly bad mood, though. As she passed, she grabbed his shoulder - she was tall, almost as tall as the SOLDIER - and spun him to face her. Kunsel bristled but tried not to show it as she leaned in closer and hissed, "You're walking a thin line, SOLDIER."

He froze, every muscle tensing. Had that girl turned him in last night?

Scarlet felt him go stiff, and immediately backed off, intimidated. Even she wasn't foolish enough to push a SOLDIER. Glaring daggers at him, she continued in a snarl, "You think you're above everyone else - but let me tell you, you're expendable, too. Disrespect your superiors again like this, and I'll see that you become target practice for the army!" She whirled away and stormed off down the hall, high-heels hammering the floor.

Kunsel sighed in relief. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just executives with chips on their shoulders. He was currently more concerned with the subject of the memo he'd gotten at an unholy hour that morning. SOLDIER was wanted to spy on the Turks? At least, that was the impression he'd gotten from the hastily-typed - and thus error-filled - notice. Any further impressions had been obliterated by the realization that he'd overslept yet again and would be very late to the meeting.

He had thrown on his boots and helmet, trying to straighten out the wrinkles in his uniform from having slept in it, and had hurried to the elevator. It probably hadn't been such a good idea to skip breakfast, as his stomach started complaining on the way down to the conference room, but he'd been through worse. It just didn't do anything for his mood.

Heidegger looked up at him and almost visibly withered as Kunsel entered the room and came to a stop at the far end of the long conference table.

"Mr. President, sir," he said, nodding, pulling out a chair and sitting without being told he could. He was feeling rebellious today, and scowled at Heidegger. Unfortunately, his chin revealed little and so the weight of the expression was lost on the executive, who looked away and cleared his throat.

"Well, well, so you got here first, before the Turk," the president began, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands over his ample belly. "Let's get down to business."

Yes, let's, Kunsel thought, hoping his grumbling stomach couldn't be heard at the other end of the table.

"The Turks' old leader, before Heidegger was promoted to the office, was Veld. This man is now a criminal, a wanted traitor with a price on his head. Although we're fairly close to capturing him, he is still at large, and there is a chance he could come back here to rally his Turks to his side. That would be, to say the least, a major breach in both our security and defenses."

Kunsel nodded agreement, not liking where this was heading. Obviously Shinra assumed he was as uninformed as all the SOLDIERs were, at least officially, but he'd done enough digging on his own to be aware of the situation. There was no danger Veld would come back, especially not since the report that he was last seen on the Western Continent searching for materia. It would seem that Shinra, both president and company, had lost faith in the Turks.

Shinra continued, "Circumstances being as they are, I have deemed it best - for the Turks' sake, of course - to assign each an individual guard. Just to keep them straight, so to speak."

Scarlet came back at that moment, bearing two cups of coffee - one distracted the president, while the other she set down on the table by her seat. Heidegger reached for it, but without paying him any attention, she scooped it up and took a sip. The head of General Affairs frowned and went back to sleeping; Scarlet set down her cup and glared daggers at Kunsel.

"You're to follow the target everywhere, to ensure that...Veld doesn't attempt to contact your target," Shinra said, putting down his coffee. "This mission will stand until further notice. Failure will result in termination."

That threat got Kunsel's full attention. Never before had anyone even considered death as a punishment. SOLDIERs were above that. But, then again, there was Zack... Kunsel nodded gravely, making an effort to appear attentive. The other half just wanted this to be over with so he could go over the information he'd collected.

But Scarlet wasn't done; apparently her temper from earlier was still alive and she commented with a sneer, "If you'd come earlier, you could have had your pick. Now, you get the last Turk -"

"Who is still yet to show up," Shinra muttered, his restlessness increasing proportionally to the amount of coffee he'd drunk. "Heidegger, you did send out the notice?" Oh, yes, he'd sent out the memo - days late!

"Yes, sir. The Turks seem to have gotten lax lately. It really is despicable."

"Especially since you're now in charge of them," Scarlet hissed, but only Kunsel heard her.

There was a tap on the open door, and Cissnei stood there, much to Kunsel's surprise, looking like she'd had a rough night. After the president acknowledged her, she came and sat in the only seat next to Kunsel.

He glanced over at her and was about to make a comment about her not being much of a morning person, but she squashed him with a look and turned her attention on Shinra. He launched once again into his speech of semi-explanation. When he reached the part where Veld was feared to come back, Cissnei tilted her head a degree, eyes narrowed in disbelief. No one, except Kunsel and maybe Scarlet, saw the gesture; it made the SOLDIER's estimate of her go up a bit, as she'd already been aware of classified information.

The briefing was, well, brief. Cissnei didn't blink when she was told that a SOLDIER would be following her around everywhere indefinitely. Kunsel had to hand it to her - she had more stoicism than he could be certain he would have in such a situation.

"Kunsel, Shuriken. Shuriken, Kunsel," Heidegger said, rousing himself enough to stand up for the introductions. Cissnei bit her lip, inwardly cursing whatever deity ruled the world.

The SOLDIER was standing, holding out his hand toward her. Not missing a beat, she perfunctorily shook hands.

"Cissnei," she said, letting her hand drop.

"Nice meeting you," Kunsel said, likewise returning to his seat. If she wanted to feign ignorance, that was fine by him. "Anything else, sir?" he asked, looking at the president.

"No," Shinra said, standing up. "Good day."

After he left, the room settled into a venomous silence, Scarlet glaring at all around her, Heidegger shuffling papers into a messy pile, and Cissnei gazing around with a grim expression. Even she avoided Scarlet's eyes, Kunsel was amused to see, although that was probably only to avoid a confrontation.

"Well?" the blonde woman finally snapped, pinning them both with her stare. Kunsel looked bored.

Cissnei rose to leave and he did likewise, slightly unsure as to his new position. Following a Turk around, and this particular Turk, at that? Things were sure to get awkward. And they did - just a little sooner than he had expected.

They were in the corridor outside, having left without much more than a barely civil "good day" to the two department heads, when Cissnei made an abrupt left turn, leaving Kunsel hurrying to keep up.

"Please excuse me; I'll just be a minute," she said, and closed a door in his face. He was about to push it open and follow her - he certainly wasn't going to fail the assignment, not within the first five minutes - when he noticed the sign beside the door and backed away.

"Oh."

Things had happened way too fast for Cissnei. She needed time to think...in private. With the SOLDIER tailing her, there was only way she could think of at the moment to be alone for a while. So she'd ducked into the restroom, sure - well, fairly sure - that he wouldn't dare follow her in.

She slipped into a stall and shut the door, leaning her head against it and closing her eyes. She'd wanted answers today; instead she got a guard-hound. And him, of all people. She had a feeling it would be difficult to evade him. But then, he had something to hide, so maybe they could turn their backs on each other... She doubted that. Kunsel didn't seem the kind to take his job anything but seriously, regardless of what he did on off-hours.

And what was this deal with Veld? She hadn't seen or heard anything of him since they'd met in the Nibelheim Mansion last December, now almost ten months ago. He'd mentioned he was looking for materia to save his daughter's life, and then had knocked her out and vanished. He was back now, and looking for support? That she highly doubted. Shinra had been desperately casting about for a reason to keep her under surveillance, and for some reason had hit upon that as an excuse. For that matter - why not put her under house arrest, if it was something important? She knew the Turks had leverage, but certainly nothing to hold over Shinra...right?

Her head was spinning now worse than it had been when she'd come in here. Four hours of sleep did nothing to help, nor did the knowledge that Kunsel was right outside the door. Sighing heavily, she figured she might as well freshen up since she was here.

In the corridor, Kunsel leaned against the wall opposite the door and hoped that no one else would come through and see him loitering there. What was he supposed to do in this sort of circumstance? How closely was he expected to follow her? Surely there would be limits...

Or not.

"Already lost her, have you?" a voice barked, and he didn't need to look up to know Scarlet was approaching from the meeting room. "Answer me, SOLDIER! Where is your target?"

Kunsel nodded his head in the direction of the restroom; Scarlet got the hint, and sniffed with foiled malice.

"You're only a footstep away from army target-practice; mess this one up, and I'll see you don't live to regret your failure." Scarlet huffed past him, ill will emanating from her in an aura as she continued on down the corridor and was soon out of sight.

Cissnei came out a few minutes later, looking refreshed and more awake than he did. Kunsel fell in step beside her, taking short strides to match hers. He wasn't particularly tall, but there was a good eight inches difference between them. Cissnei noticed his mincing steps and picked up the pace, swinging her legs so her stride almost matched his. He sped up accordingly. Should he ask where they were headed? His stomach seemed to think so, as it grumbled aloud and Cissnei glanced aside at him, one eyebrow raised in an expression that could be sympathy.

"Mess hall?" she asked laconically.

He nodded, but she wasn't looking at him. "Sure."

Without another word exchanged, they made it to the commissary and took their trays - it was just as well they were forced together, as there was only a single table open. More unfortunate was the fact there was only one chair. Kunsel looked around for another, but this was the last call for breakfast, and the mess hall was packed. He looked back to Cissnei to find her still standing, frowning at him.

"Well?" she asked, clearly impatient. Her tray was balanced neatly on one hand and her other fist was resting on her hip. Kunsel just stared at her through his helmet, then looked at the single chair.

He raised one eyebrow, although she couldn't see it. "Well?" he repeated.

She hooked one ankle around the chair leg and pulled it out from the table. He looked at it in vague puzzlement.

"Um, it's a chair," Kunsel said. Was this girl out to make a fool of him? Well, she is a Turk...

Cissnei frowned further and remained standing. He glanced up and saw that she was eating one-handed, still holding the tray. "I don't need special treatment." He resisted the urge to say, then why the bodyguard? and instead balanced his own tray on one hand.

"I don't mind, but if you really want to make this more awkward, then by all means, remain standing," he said, shifting his weight to one leg and reaching for his cup. He didn't want to nettle her - if he was going to have to be at her side for Goddess-knew-how-long, he really didn't want her resenting him - but she was being a bit ridiculous.

"Same here," Cissnei said sharply, although his comment hadn't been unfriendly.

But she was feeling put-out at the moment and was not in the mood for nonsense. If the SOLDIER wanted to stand, fine by her! Once she'd made up her mind, she never changed; the sky would fall before her resolve broke. So, without another look at Kunsel, she ate her breakfast in silence, both of them standing by the only empty chair. It wasn't wise to alienate him, her mind kept telling her, but it felt oh-so-good to actually be in control of something, even something stupid.

She only wished the rest of her life was as simple as this.