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SOLDIER, Future, Past
Most people have never heard of Gongaga. It’s about as backwater and remote as a village can get, buried in a jungle that’s full of the kind of wildlife that can all too easily turn lethal, even for people who are armed and prepared for a fight. Casual travelers? Hah, that’s a joke! Besides, there’s nothing in Gongaga to draw tourists in. The only thing here of note is a reactor, and even that’s barely excuse enough for merchants to make the trek in with supplies for first the outpost and then the village that slowly sprung up around it.
Zack Fair lives for those days when a merchant’s truck drives into town. The rest of the village does too, to an extent, but not for the same reason as him. A merchant means supplies, of course - means food and tools and clothes, and other things that everyone needs. Tomorrow there will be a lot of people making a trip to the general store. Tonight there will be a larger crowd in the inn that doubles up as the village’s pub, with everyone eager to hear whatever gossip or news the merchant brings. What does Zack care about any of that , though?
No, the reason he’s hanging around the back of the truck, practically vibrating with excitement, is because of the man who came
with
the merchant. He’s a fairly ordinary man with sandy-brown hair, wearing loose, dark pants and a light T-shirt clearly picked with the heat in mind. He has fingerless gloves, some kind of cuffs on his wrists, and one of his ears is pierced with a simple stud.
And there’s a broadsword strapped to his back.
“How does it stay attached?” Zack blurts out, craning his neck for a better look.
The merchant guard’s mouth quirks up with amusement, but he obligingly turns so Zack can see the harness setup. “It’s a kind of magnetic technology Shinra developed. See the catch by the handle there? You flick that when you want to draw and the magnet releases.”
So cool. So cool. It takes every bit of Zack’s willpower not to reach out to try it himself.
“How much does something like that cost?” he asks. His thoughts are racing with what a harness like that would mean for him. No scabbard would mean nothing would get in the way of his draw, would mean he could absolutely get a longer sword. He’d almost resigned himself to the lacking reach of a short sword until he grows some more, but if he has something like this …!
“Cost?” An expression flickers across the guard’s face, something unreadable, before he reaches up to rub at his clean shaven jaw. “Hmm, you know what? I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s something that’s available to be purchased yet.” His eyes, a brilliant blue-green that almost seems to glow, go distant, like he’s trying to remember something.
Zack tilts his head. “Then how’d you get one?”
Again, that unreadable expression, this time long enough to make Zack feel like he’s being weighed. Then the guard leans forward and cracks a grin.
“What, you can’t figure it out for yourself?” He reaches out suddenly, ruffling Zack’s spiky black hair and earning a squawk from him. “Use your head, kid. I can see you’ve got one right here.”
“Hey!” Zack jerks back with an indignant scowl. His hands go to his hair, but fixing it is futile without a mirror, so he just has to settle for raking the spikes back out of his face.
The guard just laughs at his expression, not the least bit repentant, and Zack’s this close to downgrading the level of coolness he’d earned.
“What’s your name, kid?”
Still scowling, Zack debates for all of two seconds about whether or not to answer him, then grudgingly says, “Zack Fair.” If he doesn’t answer, the guy will just keep calling him kid , and he’s not a kid. He is twelve years old.
Then, because fair is fair, he quickly follows up with, “What’s yours?”
It should be an easy question to answer. It should be an easy question to not answer, if the man decides he just wants to be a jerk. For some reason, though, the guard hesitates for a long moment before his features soften with something almost like grief. He looks away.
Then he takes a breath, like he’s steeling himself.
“Kunsel. My name is Kunsel.” He looks back at Zack, meeting his eyes now with a sincere smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Zack. I look forward to seeing you around.”
Kunsel apparently doesn’t have any duties now that he’d escorted the merchant to the village safely. While his employer is busy conducting his own business, Zack’s more than once spotted the guard wandering the half-paved streets of Gongaga, sometimes chatting with other people, sometimes with his PHS in his hand. Sometimes he pauses and glances out into the jungle. Once, he even reaches for his sword. No threats ever materialize, though - or at least not when Zack isn’t busy with his chores. It leaves Zack feeling vaguely disappointed.
How cool would it be to see a real, trained fighter take on something like a Gagighandi?
“Are you really that bored that following me around sounds like something fun?”
Zack startles. He’d only been distracted for a second. When had Kunsel crossed the street? He hadn’t even heard the man approach.
Kunsel just looks amused.
He also looks like he’s this close to reaching out to ruffle Zack’s hair again, and Zack’s having none of that. He quickly takes a preemptive step to the side.
“I was just wondering…” He pauses, then decides he might as well go bold or go home. “You know how to fight, right? Could you teach me some tricks?” The guard blinks, clearly surprised, and now it’s Zack’s turn to flash his own grin. “I’m gonna be in SOLDIER someday, soon as I’m old enough to join. I always ask the guards that come with the merchants if they’ll teach me something, so I can start my training now . I’ve learned a lot!” He puffs up his chest, trying to exude confidence. Come on, take him seriously!
“SOLDIER, huh?” Sometimes when people hear about Zack’s dream, they laugh and brush him off. Sometimes they shake their heads and try to talk him down from it. Sometimes they smile indulgently, offer him a few scraps of advice and call that good enough. Most people aren’t interested in spending time teaching a kid they’ll never see again. A few of them will, though, and Zack holds his breath as he waits to see which one Kunsel is.
Kunsel’s eyes glint with something brighter than their natural gleam.
“Sure, kid. Show me what you’ve got.”
Kunsel doesn’t show him any tricks. Instead, he drills Zack in what he calls the basics, going over form and footing and the way he holds his stick that’s serving as a makeshift sword. Again and again, he guides Zack through a series of slashes, thrusts, dodges, parries, until Zack feels like his arms are going to fall off, only taking breaks to make sure he drinks all the water he needs to replace what he’s sweating in buckets, and occasionally to catch his breath.
“Flashy tricks are for idiots,” Kunsel insists, and it’s so unfair that he isn’t even out of breath. “Don’t waste your energy trying to look cool. You’ll tire out faster, you’re more likely to make a mistake, and it’s not like you’re there to impress anyone. It’s more important to get the job done.”
“But SOLDIERs use flashy moves all the time!” Zack protests from where he’s currently sitting in the shade of one of Gongaga’s many trees. His breathing is ragged, and his clothes are sticking to his skin. The shade helps with the heat, but unfortunately it does nothing for his own sweat or against the jungle humidity.
“SOLDIERs have also been training for years . They’ve already mastered the basics. Even then, a SOLDIER using flashy moves can still be beaten by someone using nothing but the basics if they’re not careful.”
“But they’re SOLDIER .” Zack adds extra emphasis to that title, because he doesn’t think Kunsel understands. “Nobody can beat a SOLDIER. Not one-on-one. Not unless they’re SOLDIER, too, but why would they? Another SOLDIER would be on their side.”
Kunsel’s expression does something strange. His eyes pinch at the corners, his jaw tightens and dips down, his mouth forming a thin, thin line. He looks away, like he just can’t bear to look at Zack.
It takes him a long minute to respond.
“SOLDIERs are human, too, Zack.” The words come out like something broken that he’s only just barely holding together. “They make mistakes.” He doesn’t say any more. He just gets up and walks away.
Zack doesn’t understand.
Kunsel doesn’t bring it up when they meet the next day. Zack doesn’t either, mostly because he’s instantly distracted by the lesson Kunsel has planned for him.
“You’re going to let me use your materia?!”
Kunsel laughs at his excitement, then makes him repeat the lesson from yesterday before yes, yes, YES , he plucks a small green sphere from the hilt of his sword and hands it over to Zack. The next half hour is spent going over materia safety before Kunsel explains how to draw on his magic. Zack listens raptly, if somewhat impatiently.
Ice water never tasted so good.
“So the earring’s not just an earring?” Zack holds the stud in his fingers up, fascinated.
“Nope. This one’s made with an ore that naturally disrupts Death and Petrify type magics. Pretty useful, huh?”
“No kidding.” That’s half the threat of a Gagighandi right there. Of course you still have to worry about teeth and claws, but that’s not nearly the same level of danger.
“Anyway, that’s what I mean when I say you should do your research before you go anywhere. Knowing what you might run into makes it so you know how to prepare, what equipment you should bring, and what to keep an eye out for. I knew I might run into Gagighandis, so I bought that earring. I’ve heard all the stories about the frogs here, too-” Kunsel’s mouth ticks up fondly, like he’s smiling at a memory. “-so I’ve got lots of remedies.”
“You should go down to the general store,” Zack pipes up. “There’s a cloak you can buy there that keeps frogs from shape-changing you.” He has no idea how it works, and he’s willing to bet that the woman who makes them won’t tell, but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re dead useful for people who don’t think getting touched by a Touch-Me is hilarious.
“See? That’s what I’m talking about!” Kunsel claps a hand to Zack’s shoulder with a grin. “Use your head like that and you’ll go far, Zack.”
Zack can’t help the flush of pride as he grins back.
Zack hadn’t realized that seeing him around had meant that Kunsel is staying here. Two days later, though, the merchant drives away while Kunsel remains standing right there in front of the inn’s weathered door.
“You’re not going back with him?” The innkeeper, Mr. Larson, gives Kunsel a curious look.
Zack, who’d come to the inn for the sole purpose of seeing Kunsel off, leans in to catch his response.
Kunsel waves a hand through the air, not quite a shrug, not quite brushing the question off. “I have some business to take care of up at the reactor,” he says, and both Zack’s eyebrows and Mr. Larson’s shoot up.
“Huh,” Mr. Larson says. “Didn’t take you for Shinra.”
Shinra? No way . Kunsel looks about as far from Zack’s mental image of that company as someone can possibly get while still looking normal. He’s just too cool and casual , dressed in loose cargo pants and a thin cotton shirt, with only the harness for his sword hinting at anything like professional gear. Well, that and his earring, and the cuffs he has around his wrists, all of which Zack now knows are not for fashion at all, but serve very functional purposes in battle. No uniform, no armor, no badge or emblem anywhere to declare who has him employed.
“Ah.” Kunsel scratches the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
He doesn’t actually say what he does.
But when he turns and catches Zack’s eyes…
Blue-green eyes, glowing bright even in the sun.
Zack’s never seen eyes like that before, not counting TV footage that just can’t capture the effect, but suddenly he realizes he’s an idiot.
What, you can’t figure it out for yourself?
Kunsel disappears for a whole day after that. Classified , is all he says when Zack asks what it is he needs to do, and something inside Zack has a small heart attack at that almost-confirmation that he’s talking to a SOLDIER, a real SOLDIER here, holy crap holy crap holy crap!
When he does come back…
“I want to go with you,” Zack blurts out before his brain can catch up with his mouth. When it does, he flushes, but still plows on with determination. “When you leave. Please? I’m almost old enough!” Almost thirteen, which is close to fourteen, which is old enough for the army’s loosened age restrictions, what with the war going on. “I was planning on leaving for Midgar soon anyway.”
Kunsel levels a look at him, that same look that makes Zack feel like all his life choices are being judged, so he’s surprised when the man eventually smiles and squeezes his shoulder.
“I guess it would be safer if you had company for that.”
Zack’s eyes light up, heart trying to leap through the bones of his chest. Before he can even so much as whoop with joy, though-
“ But- ” Kunsel cuts him off.
But?
Blue-green eyes, mako eyes, fix Zack with firm authority.
“But I’m not going straight back to Midgar. My mission’s going to take me to all the remote reactors first. You can come with me, and I’ll keep training you, but you won’t be joining the army, and definitely not SOLDIER, for at least another year.”
A year. A whole year .
But personal training from a SOLDIER .
It isn’t even a debate.
This time Kunsel doesn’t stop Zack’s cheers, only tempering them a minute later by making him promise to ask his parents for permission first.
They leave five days later, once Zack’s had a chance to convince his parents that he can’t pass up this chance, that it’s the best and safest way to pursue his dreams. They stock up on supplies, and Kunsel buys two cloaks for them.
And in all the excitement, Zack never notices the wisp of smoke rising through the trees from the direction of Gongaga’s reactor.
- Fin-