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Aerith hummed to herself as she tilled the soil around the flowers that bloomed in the middle of an abandoned church in Sector 5. It was a song that played constantly on her mom’s radio every morning during breakfast. She didn’t remember any of the lyrics, just that it had a unique melody.
The flowers seemed to enjoy the tune, energy buzzing through her fingertips as she patted the soil softly before wiping her hands on her light blue skirt. They loved the church. Thrived even. Aerith wasn’t sure if it was because it was a relic of a once holy place or if it was something as simple as fertile soil. They smelled sweet, almost serving as incense for the decaying structure. The bright colors from the stained glass played on their petals, making them look as if they belonged in this place all along. Sometimes, when she stayed overnight, Aerith swore she could hear the remnants of chanting from a religion abandoned long before she stumbled up this place.
Just as she was cleaning up her tools, the heavy door creaked open. Her heart skipped and she turned around to see a vision in black. Not the vision she was hoping for, but still a surprise all the same.
Down the wood-planked center aisle of the church stood Tseng of the Turks. He stood there in a crisp black suit made of only the finest materials found in the upper plate, black hair pulled back to perfection in a sleek ponytail, and an expressionless face. There was a tattoo of unknown origin slightly above his eyebrows in the middle, not that Aerith knew what it meant. He’d avoided her probing questions about it, and honestly any personal question for that matter, every time she inquired.
She knew Tseng all too well and not at all. Not quite an enemy or friend, but instead something else she couldn’t pin down. She did consider him some sort of friend, but she never knew if it was real or if he was just using false security to coax her back into Shinra’s web. They often played this game back and forth with each other where they pretended he wouldn’t be tasked one day with bringing her back to the company building, likely kicking and screaming. It was an unspoken vow that they would deal with the situation when it did indeed arise. Aerith was fairly certain that they both had completely different notions about how that particular day would unfold.
What was strange about this current moment was that he came through the front door. Usually, Tseng hid in the shadows; she knew he was there, he knew that she knew he was there. The Turks, loyal to their bones towards Shinra, only observing and protecting her because she was an Ancient and therefore vital to whatever President Shinra hoped to accomplish in his future plans of world domination. Their supposed magical ticket into the Promised Land.
Aerith had nothing to bring to that table, that much was certain. She barely understood her own capabilities, much less being able to explain it to the stoic man standing in front of her. In fact, it was probable that she knew less about the Promised Land than the company pushing her to reveal its location.
What Aerith really wanted was for Zack Fair to waltz through the door and tell her that he wouldn’t leave her like this again. That everything would be okay. It was selfish after all, something a child would demand. She could tell herself she understood, that she wasn’t angry, but it still stung. It had been close to six months at this point and all she could hope for now was for Tseng to deliver her letters like he’d promised. Occasionally, she wondered if he read them and she had to refrain from writing something dirty or obscene in one of them just to scandalize the man. That would’ve just turned into a lecture.
Despite being told that Zack “died in the line of duty”, Aerith didn’t believe that the SOLDIER was truly dead. Which brought her back to why Tseng was standing in front of her. She swallowed a lump in her throat in anticipation that maybe her intuition was wrong this time and this was the moment she feared would come.
“Do you have any news to share?” Aerith asked timidly, clasping her hands together. Tseng approached and shook his head, pausing a foot away from her. From a closer perspective, she could see that he was not holding his usual posture. His eyes looked tired and defeated. Her stomach flopped with dread and it felt like cold water seeping into her skin. Tseng was always the one in control, always level headed. She didn’t like this deviation from their usual routine. In an effort to keep some normalcy, Aerith pointed to a little pink envelope lying on a nearby pew.
“I have another letter for you to deliver,” she added before Tseng could reply. She watched him walk over to the pew and sit down, turning the envelope over in his hands before tucking it into his suit jacket in a daze. Aerith’s expression tightened and she took a seat next to him, careful to keep a small distance between them. He stared ahead, lost in thought.
“Is…everything okay?”
A unsteady sigh was the only response she received. Was the day they were both avoiding finally here? Her breath caught in a small moment of panic and she glanced at the doorway. Should she take advantage of the moment and run? He didn’t look like he would even chase after her if she fled. After a moment of deliberation, she shifted closer.
“You know, if you do have news, you can tell me. I’m older now, Tseng. I can handle it. I promise!” Aerith pushed softly.
She waved a hand in his face, forcing the man to finally look at her. Tseng raised an eyebrow before shaking his head once more. “Aerith, I don’t have any news on Zack. It’s still the same as I’ve told you before.” Liar. The Ancient narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
“What’s going on? Usually, you don’t even say ‘hello’ when you stop by. C’mon, give me something to work with here. You’re scaring me.”
Tseng;s jaw clenched, in a clear debate on what to reveal before he turned to her and said in a hushed tone, “My commander is gone.”
“Gone, like, gone?” She exclaimed, “Or gone like, quit? Maybe he got more gil from another company! I bet Shinra didn’t pay him enough.”
“Turks don’t just quit, Aerith. And, no, at this moment, he’s not dead,” he replied gently in a slightly condescending tone that she decided to ignore. He cleared his throat quickly and looked down at the floor. Having never met the man that Tseng called “commander”, the girl was at a loss for words. The other Turks that were assigned to watch her often shared stories about him and from what she gathered, he didn’t sound very friendly. He also didn’t seem like the type to abandon his department.
Aerith silently wrestled with the idea of consoling the man beside her. They never hugged, touched, or anything physical, but her first instinct was to wrap her arm around his shoulder. Inching closer, she settled for putting an arm behind him, resting on the back of the pew rather than outright touching him. The gesture brought her back to the day Zack crumbled into her arms after a painful mission. It was almost laughable to imagine doing the same for the man beside her, as if he’d ever let her.
Normally, it was Tseng consoling her from a distance, managing her petulant tantrums, or offering adult solutions to a childish problem and leaving her feeling foolish and immature. The fact that he hadn’t noted her change in proximity, or shuffled away from her to increase their distance was an indicator that he was wholeheartedly affected by the abandonment of his leader. Sadly, it was a feeling she could relate to all too well in different circumstances.
“Well,” she murmured slowly, searching for the right words, “He must’ve had a good reason for leaving his team, I’m sure. Most people don’t want to leave. I hope he returns soon. Hey, maybe he’ll return with Zack and they’ll pull us aside and tell us they were both in on the joke and it was really a test to make sure we were strong enough to be without them!”
Tseng looked up and gave her the smallest and most skeptical of smiles, but she could appreciate that he indulged her lie anyway. He leaned back to look up and Aerith followed his gaze to the massive hole in the ceiling. It was a consistent reminder of Zack and the first time they met. The rafters now served as a home to a winged dog-like creature. The contemptuous look on Tseng’s face showed recognition of the creature, but she didn’t see any harm in it. She liked to think it was a token from Zack while he was away. Another reason that added to her disbelief that he was truly gone.
“It’s never attacked or anything. I think it knows this is a sacred place,” she whispered.
“It doesn’t think at all, Aerith. It’s a monster,” He whispered back.
“Well that’s what you think. Have you ever asked?”
Tseng’s dark eyes flicked down to her before shifting back up to the creature lingering above them. Disfigured paws stretched out in a lazy manner as the beast settled itself in a lying position, watchful eyes on the scene below.
“Does it…talk to you?” He questioned in a tone that suggested he was embarrassed that he’d even asked such a thing.
“No, but I speak to it sometimes,” she confessed, pulling her knees up in the pew to sit more comfortably. At this point, she didn’t think he was here today to take her back to Shinra or give her grave news about Zack, so she could relax.
“I’ll talk about mom, you know, my real one. Sometimes, I tell it about Zack, but I think it already knows him. Sometimes, I tell it about you. Not you specifically, but Shinra. I think it knows all about that too,” she finished coldly.
“Smart creature,” he countered with sarcasm.
They sat for a few moments in silence. Aerith unsure what to say and Tseng unsure how to feel. She closed her eyes briefly and breathed in the scent of his expensive cologne mixed with the incense of the flowers. She felt a shift and quickly realized he was going to leave and she wasn’t ready to be alone again.
Aerith jumped up and moved to the center aisle to block his path. “Hey, I know something you can help me with! That door in the back isn’t locked anymore. Reno showed me how to open it with my hairpin. I opened it the other day and found that old box over there,” she beamed proudly, pointing over to a decaying wooden box with a rusted latch in the front corner by the broken pulpit. The box stood as tall as her shoulders and she would never admit that she had to bribe Rude with bird seed for the pigeons to move it since Reno flat out refused.
“Is that so?” A flash of anger appeared on Tseng’s features before he stood up slowly. Aerith made a mental note to apologize to Reno the next time he was on watch duty.
“Want to see what’s in it with me? It felt weird just going through it by myself.”
“I really don’t have much time. I need to get back-“
“You didn’t seem to be busy earlier,” she said with a pout, placing her hands on her hips. The Turk let out a a defeated huff and motioned for her to continue her charade.
“It’ll take our mind off of things, you’ll see!”
Aerith tentatively unhooked the latch and the hinges creaked as she folded back the lid. The dust triggered a coughing fit before she could continue. Curiosity must've lured Tseng in because she could feel his presence beside her. They both peered down to see a robed garment of faded white silk with gold filigree embroidered onto the sides. Yanking it out of the crate, she held it out in front of her. The gold thread sparkled and the white silk shifted colors with the stained glass. Other than a few holes and fading, it looked untouched.
“Oh! I’ve read about this. These robes are called ‘vestaments’. Some guy would wear this and stand in front of the church and talk for hours. A ‘priest’, I think. I wonder if it’s worth anything?” Aerith pondered, distractedly handing over the garment to Tseng. He gingerly took it from her with a grimace, before dropping it to the floor in silence.
“Be careful with that, I might try to sell that for mom! Don’t let it get dirty. Our sink needs repair and the part we need is expensive,” she scolded. Tseng wordlessly raised an eyebrow at her argument. Surely a few more dust particles from an already ruined cloth wouldn’t change the price.
“You won’t get much for it. No one down here will see any importance in it to give you the gil it’s probably really worth. How much is the part?” Tseng asked absentmindedly, inspecting his gloves for leftover debris from the robes.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s see what else is in here. Like this!” She announced as she pulled out an old, tattered book. The ribbon that would have served as a bookmark was chewed off at the top, rendering it useless. Aerith flipped through a few pages before laughing, the sound echoing in the church.
“This book is full of silly rules. It says not to lie. But that’s not so easy. What if you have to lie to save someone or not hurt someone’s feelings? Mom once got a haircut that looked hideous and I told her I loved it so she didn’t cry. Does that make me a bad person?” She wondered out loud before handing the book to Tseng. Without opening it himself, he tossed it in the same pile as the disregarded robe.
“You aren’t at all curious what else it says?”
“I have no intention of letting an old book tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. Clearly, it didn’t work out for them considering it’s obsolete now,” he mused.
“But you have every intention of thinking a descendent of the Cetra knows exactly where the Promised Land is. If you look at it that way, I could also be, what was the word you used…obsolete?” she retorted, turning fully to face him with narrowed green eyes. Regret formed in his eyes as she smiled deviously.
Tseng knew he walked into that argument. He wasn’t thinking clearly, his mind many other things than the girl before him. Being older than her by close to ten years, he often underestimated her ability to quickly cut him down with mere words and accusations. With his subordinates, his temper often caused him to lash out in moments of weakness. With her, he had to remind himself to keep his cool, even when she tested him to the point of breaking. She had that way about her; he loved and hated it at the same time, for honesty was not something he often received in his line of duty.
“Just keep going, or I’m leaving,” he threatened, motioning back to the box. Aerith eventually conceded and went back to digging items out of the box. She found an old statue, a couple metal candlesticks, and a rusted incense holder.
Once the last of the contents were emptied, a few metal goblets, Aerith almost added them to her pile to sell before she placed them back in the box. It amused Tseng that out of everything that might have gotten her proper gil, she refused to sell it. It felt wrong, she’d concluded.
Aerith huffed and closed the lid before turning to him with a pout. He caught the look of disappointment on her face, like she was hoping something would be in the box that wasn’t. He curiously watched her take a seat at the nearest pew and cross her arms.
The colors from the stained glass started to dim, an indication that Tseng really should just go. He originally hadn't intended to air out company affairs to the Ancient, but he hadn’t fully processed the recent events himself. She had no one to tell, so he determined that it was somewhat safe. Still, it was a slight, a mistake, something he rarely allowed for himself. Aerith stared at the floor, the mood changing along with the approaching dusk. Still, he couldn’t help himself.
“You seem disheartened. Were you hoping to find something special in that box?” Tseng broke the silence. He didn’t sit down as he intended to find out her answer and then suggest that he walk her home before dark. Aerith shrugged before gesturing to the pile on the ground.
“I don’t know. You know how you sometimes find things where you least expect them? I guess I was hoping to find out if there was anything about the Cetra in there. Stupid wish, but maybe if there was something in there, that would be enough for Shinra. Enough to leave me alone. But it was just garbage from a lost past,” She replied mournfully, looking up at him, tears brimming in her eyes.
Tseng took a long pause to gather a reply. With what he was currently dealing with, questions left and right from his Turks about next steps, craving direction on what to do. Not to mention Aerith’s incessant letters to a man who was practically dead at this point. This was the last conversation he wanted to have today. Her wish was valiant, but impossible. He wouldn’t tell her that, though. The only way he could function now was to continue their dance of avoidance. Another problem for another day.
After Verdot’s impending defection, Tseng didn’t want to consider another loss for a very long time. That long time felt shortened now, somehow. Everything was changing too fast for him to keep up. How could he be expected to lead and plan, ensure everyone’s safety, including the girl sitting in front of him that he had come to care very much about, when he wasn’t sure what to do himself? Instead, he cleared his throat, prepared to change the subject.
“Why don’t I take you back home? It’s late and I need to go. Rude can bring you back tomorrow.”
“Do you think the people who came to this church actually listened to the priest?”
“I’m sure some did if the church lasted this long. C‘mon Aerith, let’s go.”
Aerith didn’t make a move to get up. Tseng set his jaw and motioned with a gloved hand for her to stand. “No,” she continued, ignoring his plea for her to follow along, “What I mean is, do you think they actually believed in what he talked about? Whatever this place represents, did they actually believe in it? Just because a man told them it was real?”
“I don’t know, Aerith, I can’t talk to the dead. I can’t answer that,” he snapped, tired of the conversation. He turned to leave, hoping she’d get the hint and follow when she finally stood up. She approached him and gripped the lapels of his suit jacket. Tseng had to stop his own instinct to push her away as she leaned in, shattering his last bit of control.
“Well, Tseng, I hope you believe me when I say this: I don’t know where the Promised land is. I also know that you’re lying about Zack, and if your commander really did leave, it was probably Shinra’s fault. If you don’t believe in anything else, believe in that.”
Tseng’s breath hitched. Ice ran through his veins at the mention of his mentor. She was too close. He couldn’t lash out at her. It was what brought him here in the first place, wasn’t it? Was it bad to just admit he wanted consolation of some sort? To admit in a safe space that this whole situation was the worst possible scenario and never in his imagined realities did he dream that Verdot would leave them in such a time as this.
The truth was that in this moment, both Tseng and Aerith shared an unfortunate tie; a common link. They had both been abandoned by someone they trusted with everything they had. One by happenstance, the other out of familial duty. Gone nonetheless and as good as dead given their circumstances and hard facts. The Turk knew now what it felt to desire, to hope, that someone you cared about came home. He hated that feeling, cursed it for how weak it made him.
Tseng also knew that she wasn’t lying. Aerith likely didn’t know anything about the Promised Land. Based on the reports locked away in the Research & Development archives, Ifalna wasn’t exactly forthcoming with her daughter about knowledge of the Ancients. The President leaned on the assumption that she just knew and that she was just hiding information.
Despite the notions that suggested she was an old soul, Aerith was just a teenage girl. It was borderline comical to Tseng that the man put so much hope in a girl that wanted to peddle old relics in the slums. The joke wasn’t funny though when the reality of the job sunk in.
Both Turk and Ancient knew that one day, she would be pulled from all of this; the church covered in flowers, the hole in the roof that allowed just a hint of sunshine, and he supposed that ugly creature with Angeal’s face guarding the rafters. He briefly wondered that when that fateful day came, and the beast was still here, if he'd have to kill it in front of her. He looked up to see the creature staring down at him, as if it read his mind. He had half a mind to shoot it right there, the atrocity that it was.
“Nothing to say?” Her voice tugged Tseng from his thoughts. He glanced down at the delicate hands still clutching his jacket. With a gentleness only reserved for her, he placed his hands over hers to release himself slowly from her grasp. “Let’s go,” he replied with a tone that left no room for debate.
Aerith exhaled loudly and reluctantly stuffed the newfound items into her bag of tools before following him. The tension in the air gave Tseng indication that a tantrum was on the horizon. If he was a better man, he would’ve hugged her and told her everything she wanted to hear. Instead, he crossed his arms in silence and hoped he could get her home without an outburst. Let Elmyra deal with the fallout.
The Ancient made her usual small talk on the walk home, purposely stretching out the journey as she often did. The only bonus was that folks were less likely to try and carry a conversation when they saw the man in a suit walking beside her. She made him stop at a tea shop on the way and unfortunately goaded him into a ‘new green tea’ infusion that he felt he had to drink because she paid for it, even when he refused. It tasted like vegetable water and he’d have to find a way to pour it out the minute she was out of his protection.
As they approached the bridge that led to her home, Aerith thanked him briskly for the walk and turned towards the stairs. Though it would change nothing of their fated trajectory, before she could get out of earshot, he said softly, “I believe you, Aerith.”
The next day, Aerith came home to find Elmyra working underneath the sink. She set down the bag that carried the gil earned from selling some of the contents of the box. Tseng was right, she got practically nothing for it, but it was better than nothing. She’d embellish the price when he asked, though.
“What are you doing? Did you find a work-around for the sink?” Aerith asked while pulling a small container of juice from the refrigerator.
Elmyra grunted from below before pulling herself out and gazing up at her adopted daughter.
The older woman shook her head. “Nope! Someone left an envelope full of gil underneath the doormat this morning. No name, just ‘sink repair’ scribbled across the back. Weird huh? Did you do any work or favors in town? I thought you helped that doctor last week.”
“Hmm, do you still have the envelope?” Aerith asked in confusion. Her mom pointed with a wrench to the dining table where a small envelope was nestled in between unopened mail.
The handwriting was utilitarian yet fancier than one would likely see in the slums. She examined further to see more gil, coins and bills, tucked inside. “Mom, how much was in here?”
“It was enough for the part and then some. Want to get a fancy dinner one night? I might be able to finagle some passes to the upper plate for us.”
Aerith smiled as she put the gil she earned from her trades in the same envelope. “Sounds good to me! I’ve been hoping to scope the clientele up top for my flowers. Hopefully I can sell them there one day.”