Unsynced, Chapter 8
Aug. 26th, 2018 10:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sinnatiousSummary: FF7. Someone in ShinRa HR mixed up assignments, and Kunsel gets sent to Nibelheim instead of Zack.
Author’s Note: Things finally start happening.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 7
__________
Chapter 8
__________
Another week passed.
Kunsel stayed close to Cloud. There hadn’t been much change yet, beyond a slight improvement in his complexion. Sometimes, though, when Genesis was in the room forcing conversation on him, Cloud would tilt his head just so, almost as though he were listening.
It was probably the only reason why he caved on Genesis’s prodding discussions. Any sign of awareness Cloud exhibited Kunsel latched onto like a needlebird in a windstorm.
Genesis twirled a dumbapple in his hands, the lavender skin of the fruit turned nearly orange in the cave’s lantern-light. “Many of the orchards survived, after all,” he explained. “Even without human intervention, they’ll produce fruit for many years to come. Though perhaps not the commercial quantities they once did.”
“I don’t get it, though,” Kunsel replied. “Do you hate Banora or love it? Why make your base here after all that? Just for the dumbapples?”
“It was my hometown, and for all of its lies, my childhood was a privileged one,” Genesis remarked. “Is it so surprising?”
“But you killed everyone.” Kunsel pointed out.
“What makes you so sure I did?”
It took Kunsel an embarrassingly long time to process that. “Are you saying it was a copy? But Zack told me-”
“Zack Fair?” Genesis’s gaze was alight with dark amusement. “I think it has been proven that his judgement in people is somewhat unsound at this point. He still works for ShinRa, after all.”
And wasn’t that the truth. A thought Kunsel had been very studiously shelving.
His mental shelves were getting a little overcrowded, lately.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“Protest my innocence? To what end? There was no one who cared to hear it. And even if they did, who would they believe, the SOLDIER deserter, convicted as a terrorist and a traitor, or the rising beacon in the ranks that was Zack Fair?” Genesis tossed the apple into the air. The slap it made as it landed back in his gloved hands sounded overloud in their furnished cave. “I did arrive in time to spare Angeal’s mother at least, for what little good it ultimately did. And I can’t say I was entirely… sad to see the village destroyed, even in my name. At that time, anyway. It was a matter of practicality.”
It did explain a few issues he’d been nursing over the whole sordid affair. It had been Angeal Hewley’s hometown as well, and for all that it had been largely a ShinRa front, it always struck Kunsel as odd that the Commander hadn’t sought revenge on his childhood friend for its destruction. If it were ShinRa’s doing, or a rogue clone’s – or even Hollander, trying to cover his tracks – then at least some of Zack’s former mentor’s actions made a modicum more sense.
The revelation made their forced truce marginally easier to bear. Kunsel wasn’t naïve, he’d been in SOLDIER and he understood collateral damage. But the Banora massacre and subsequent attacks had been haunting his thoughts ever since he and Cloud had been corralled into this cave.
It was easier to deal with someone who was just a terrorist fighting ShinRa and desperately seeking a cure than it was to tiptoe around a psychopath who’d murdered his entire hometown in revenge.
Then too, the evidence was mounting that degradation had messed with Genesis’s brain somehow. The difference was stark now he was getting treatment, not just in the healthier pallor of his skin, but in his thought processes. It was so damn obvious that Kunsel couldn’t believe Zack or Sephiroth hadn’t noticed it.
Genesis seemed to read at least part of his line of thought, as his lips quirked in a wry smirk. “Make no mistake, SOLDIER. My hands are far from clean, and I will not hesitate to dirty them further for my goals.”
Kunsel just glanced at Cloud. His eyes were closed. He’d drifted back off to sleep sometime during the conversation.
How many ShinRa troops had he killed to get them this far?
How many more would he have to kill?
“ShinRa’s speciality is making monsters, after all,” he murmured.
…………….
Another two weeks passed, unremarkable but for their monotony. Hollander made himself scarce beyond administering treatments. Both he and Genesis visibly improved. Kunsel slept whenever his paranoia waned under the weight of boredom.
Then one morning, with very little warning, Cloud took a turn for the worse.
“What’s wrong with him?” Kunsel demanded. Cloud was groaning, head tossing from side to side, sweat beading his brow.
“Withdrawal shock,” Hollander said. The scientist was far less wary of him than he was of Genesis, but his gaze flicked towards Kunsel’s hand resting on his sword all the same. “It’s… worse than I predicted. Our supplies are running low, so I had to adjust the dosages earlier than I would have liked to.” He shook his head, biting his lip. “I need to go to Mideel to restock.”
“You,” Genesis declared loftily as he entered the cavern, “Are not going anywhere.”
Hollander flushed. “I can’t do my job properly without supplies,” he argued.
“Regardless, we’ve been far too active lately already.”
“We’re short because your last run didn’t bring back everything I asked for,” Hollander reminded him.
“You should be glad you got anything. We lost three copies to that. Our scouting parties for these two,” Genesis indicated Cloud and Kunsel with a huff, “caught ShinRa’s attention, and every mission I send them on since results in losses. And need I remind you how diminished our ranks have become.”
Hollander simply folded his arms. “Then there’s nothing I can do. We need supplies. The sort that can’t be hunted or stolen from dumbapple orchards.”
“And you shall have them,” Genesis agreed, then pointed at Kunsel. “It’s for your friend. You go.”
Kunsel stilled.
On one hand… Genesis was letting him out? On the other, he was almost certain Genesis was not letting him out with Cloud in tow. Not yet.
“Aren’t you worried I’ll run off?” He tested.
“And leave your friend behind? I doubt you would, at this point,” Genesis remarked.
That answered that.
It galled him to leave Cloud unsupervised in their presence. But he couldn’t just sit by either. If Cloud needed the supplies, he didn’t have much choice.
Since the cure had started taking effect, Genesis had been acting somewhat saner, as well. Kunsel still didn’t trust Hollander – maybe wouldn’t trust any scientist ever again – but he was starting to think that maybe he could gamble on Genesis’s twisted sense of honour after all.
“Get me a list, then. I’ll get your supplies.”
……………………………….
The sensation of sunlight on his face was nowhere near as stark as that first glimpse through mansion’s windows, but Kunsel tilted his head to the sky, greedy for the sensation of warmth and fresh air on his skin regardless.
Best not to be seen lingering near the crater though, in case he were spotted. The sooner he got moving the sooner he got back – even if his uneasiness with Genesis had somewhat abated, he wasn’t comfortable leaving Cloud with him. It just meant he didn’t think Genesis would dispose of them on the bell end of a mood swing anymore.
Kunsel set out, heading straight for the cover of the marshes. Even with a disguise, he wanted to avoid the roads until the last possible moment.
Genesis hadn’t possessed a wide variety of clothes, and sneaking cross-country hadn’t given Kunsel many opportunities to acquire much in the way of disguises either. So he’d been forced to settle, removing his waistbelt, bracer, and shoulder pauldrons, then covering up his turtleneck and suspenders with a plain grey and rather worn jacket Genesis had procured from somewhere. He felt naked without his helmet and body armour, but obvious ShinRa presence out here was to be avoided at all costs. He just hoped the cap he had pulled low over his face was enough to hide his features without making him conspicuous. In full daylight at least, mako eyes wouldn’t be obvious unless someone got close.
All in all, it was a half-hearted disguise, but Kunsel was also banking on his general lack of easily identifiable features to stay incognito.
The broadsword stayed on his back though. Bad enough to be missing armour, he at least was keeping a weapon handy.
Still, the extra layer of the jacket didn’t make the walk through the marshes enjoyable. The air was cloying and humid, and the buzz of insects roared in his ears. It was slow going, too, the undergrowth thick and the earth soft and copses of palm trees so crowded that he could barely push through the gaps between the trunks. None of which was helped by the occasional hippogriff popping up to defend its territory, or the swarms of crysales out hunting.
He’d grown used to it, but trekking cross-country sucked.
It was the fastest and safest way to Mideel though, so there was little to be done about it.
The first sign of civilisation he found was a dirt road. It was empty, and partially overgrown, and far too easy to set ambushes up alongside it. But the half-rotten wooden sign with the word ‘Mideel’ carved into it, along with a distance marker, was a welcome sight all the same.
The dirt road soon turned to cobblestone, and then Kunsel was walking into the first town he’d dared visit for three months.
“Oh, a visitor!” An elderly couple were sitting on the front porch of their house, sun-tanning. Given how browned and wrinkled their skin had become, it was a regular pastime. “Don’t get many of those around here these days!”
Kunsel raised a hand in greeting. “Passing through,” he said. “And running a bit low on supplies. Can you point me to the General Store?”
“Ain’t so many buildings here, sonny,” the old man cackled, but waved him to one of the bigger buildings set on stilts a little further on. “That’ll be the one you’re after.”
“You should stop in at the inn,” his wife added, “Get some lunch. They’re the best cooks in town.”
“Better than you for sure,” her husband jibed with a wrinkled grin.
“Better than you too,” she replied without missing a beat.
Kunsel summoned a fake smile and waved goodbye with a quick thanks.
It was all about being normal and forgettable.
The town of Mideel itself had a rustic look that not even backwater Nibelheim had managed. It was slightly larger, but the buildings were all wooden, elevated on stilts, some connected by wooden jetties and rope bridges. For the monsoon season, he assumed. The ground itself was mostly packed dirt, despite the township being ringed by luscious foliage and towering palm trees. A windmill turned ponderously near the town center, its creaking and groaning audible even over the birdsong and chatter and bustle of the local residents going about their daily business.
Kunsel received more than a few curious looks as he passed through, but most people saw the pack on his back and didn’t give him a second glance, especially when he stopped and chatted with a few of the more curious, asking just the right sorts of questions about their town to get the locals bragging, or more often than not, complaining.
ShinRa had been active in the area lately. Not much, but enough to set Kunsel’s teeth on edge.
How the heck could they have traced them here? He and Cloud had been sequestered into Genesis’s little golden cage mere hours after they’d arrived at the island! And it had been weeks since, more than enough time for the trail to go ice cold.
Coincidence then, or something more?
They weren’t in town presently, though, which would have to be enough for now. And some subtle questioning had confirmed his hopes that the local clinic was not ShinRa affiliated. Genesis had already known, of course, as would have Hollander – sending him to Mideel was counterproductive, otherwise.
Even if they wanted to get rid of him.
That was an unpleasant thought, which made him pick up his pace.
The general supplies were easy enough to get. Kunsel eyed the materia for sale hungrily – given the tectonics of the area, Mideel had some rare stuff on rotation – but when he spied an unlabelled white materia, he passed up the rest just to get that one. Even then, he could only afford it because Genesis had given him far more gil than he needed.
His next unofficial stop was the local electronics dealer. He walked out with a cheap black plastic PHS. From the bargain bin, a model two years old, but still two years newer than the ShinRa model sitting in his backpack.
His final stop was the local clinic.
The interior was somewhat cramped and untidy, though it was the sort of organised mess of a busy and understaffed office. The wooden architecture gave it a rustic feel, but many of the instruments and medications visible on the countertops and tables could have come from any ShinRa-sponsored hospital. As it was, the tinge of antiseptic mixed with mako in the air made his stomach roil.
He blinked back images of the mako tanks and metal operating tables to the sight of a somewhat hunched, greying doctor peering up at him through square glasses. “Can I help you, young man?”
Not Hojo, not Hollander, he chanted to himself. He focused on the laugh lines around the doctor’s eyes, and how his hair was brushed back into a short business style. Picking out the differences to keep himself grounded and less paranoid. “…Maybe.”
It came out curter than he’d intended, but the doctor didn’t seem to take any offence. “Take a seat,” he offered. “It’s a quiet day, I don’t have any patients scheduled until the afternoon.”
“…Thanks.” Kunsel tried not to fidget. His original plan had been to take Cloud to this place. The gossip he’d gathered on his way here had confirmed what he’d already hoped. But actually sitting here, in this office, even though it was so incredibly removed from Hojo’s lab…
Was he going to spend the rest of his life being worried about being turned back into an experiment? It was illogical, but it was too easy to imagine any doctor or scientist getting curious, and then one test, then another-
“-to help you?”
Kunsel shook himself, alarmed that he’d drifted inwardly enough to lose track of what the doctor had been saying. “Sorry?”
“Normally when making a diagnosis, it helps if you tell me your symptoms first,” the doctor responded wryly.
“Right. Ah, it’s not for me, actually,” he said. “I have a friend who’s… not really capable of making the trip himself.”
“You’re hoping to arrange a house call then?”
“No,” Kunsel answered, perhaps a little too quickly. Shiva, his nerves were far too shot, first rumours of ShinRa activity, then being faced with a clinic. He tugged his cap lower, no matter if it was rude so long as it hid his mako eyes. “It’s- he’s been looked at by a doctor. We have a treatment plan. But we there was an accident with his medicine, and I was hoping we could get what we need here, rather than wait for delivery from the continent.”
“Ah, of course. Perhaps I can help, we’re quite well stocked. Do you have a prescription?”
Wordlessly, Kunsel handed over the list of supplies Hollander had given him. The doctor glanced it over, eyebrows rising in surprise.
“This… am I wrong to guess mako addiction?”
Some sliver of panic must have shown on Kunsel’s face, as the doctor hastened to say, “We get a few of them through here sometimes, beyond the local accidents. From Midgar, usually, or one of the bigger cities. The folks who for whatever reason won’t go to the official rehab centers or hospitals-” He cut himself off abruptly, brow furrowed in sudden concern.
How much was safe to say? Maybe some half-truths, so the doctor didn’t draw too many conclusions on his own. “That’s why I thought you could help. We haven’t needed anything more until now, but the withdrawal has become problematic. Sweating, groaning in pain, elevated heart rate.”
“Those sort of withdrawal symptoms are unusual,” the doctor said, though he seemed distracted, hurrying about his office for the supplies. “Mako addiction is not like most other addictions, it is less a dependency and more a matter of regulation. I would… question your doctor in that case.”
The phrasing seemed far too careful to be accidental. Kunsel came alert.
He noted that the doctor didn’t offer again to make a house call, either.
“This is everything you’ve asked for,” he said, handing over a small box of supplies, which Kunsel swiftly put in his bag with a nod of thanks, handing over the last of his gil in turn. The doctor didn’t even bother to count it. “I hope your friend recovers quickly. Don’t let me keep you any longer.”
He considered the doctor carefully. He didn’t want to trust one, would never trust one again, but all things considered… he was in an awful hurry for him to get out of his office.
ShinRa had been active in the area.
Plausible deniability?
“I don’t suppose,” he gauged, “that there’s much risk of monsters ambushing me in Mideel, is there?”
“In Mideel? No,” he said, tone equally measured. “I’m very adamant that there is no trouble in or around my clinic. Outside the city limits though… one should always be careful.”
Kunsel’s pulse began to race.
“Thanks for your time, then,” he said.
Shit.
…………………………..
Kunsel left Mideel at a fast walk.
Once he was out of view of the city limits, he switched to a run.
If ShinRa were planning an ambush, they wouldn’t want it in sight of town. That gave Kunsel a window, at least, to choose his battleground.
What kind of foe was he facing though? Less than a standard battalion, at least – that would have left more of an impression with the locals, was harder to hide. A sniper squad? He kept his ears trained for the sound of helicopters, but was greeted only with the ambience of the marshes.
Unless it wasn’t him they were after, but Genesis.
That could mean other SOLDIERs.
He didn’t have enough intel. What was the state of SOLDIER now, beyond Zack being General? Had they replenished their ranks after Nibelheim? He’d known most of the SOLDIERs before that, well enough to either talk them down or win in a dirty fight. If it were fresh blood, though…
Flush them out and take his chances, or race to ground?
The palm trees began to thin as he neared the coastline. He eyed the nearby cliff, marked a tree with a swipe of his sword and slung his pack up into it. He’d need those supplies later, couldn’t risk them being caught up in a fight.
His pace slowed as he reached the treeline. It was a decent spot. Foliage too thick for snipers to get a clear line of sight, or for a battalion of any size to sneak through. Sand packed hard enough that it wouldn’t slow him down. And past the waterline he could see the telltale signs of a reef – that would stop any sea-based approach. Any aircraft he would hear in advance and could retreat back into the cover of the marshes.
It was far from ideal, but he wouldn’t get much better than this.
Kunsel waited.
He didn’t have to wait long before he heard it. Footsteps. Just one pair. Small. Walking.
Kunsel rested a hand on his broadsword and turned around.
The girl slowed her approach. She'd been quiet, to get even this close before he noticed. Brunette, curly hair. Round cheekbones.
Black suit.
Not SOLDIER. Turk.
"Cissnei," Kunsel croaked. He rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Great. Just great. Turks are after us too?"
This made things complicated. Hide from ShinRa's military? He could do that. But the Turks?
"You're Zack's friend," she said, and took another step forward.
He drew his sword in a heartbeat. The metal swished in the air as he levelled it at her. "Don't come any closer."
Carefully, she raised her hands in peace.
Kunsel wasn't stupid enough to believe it.
It was over, now. The island was too small. It had worked this long only because it was a place ShinRa never would have expected them to go. Genesis’s secret hideout beneath Banora’s ruins went undiscovered for the same reason.
If the Turks had a reason to look closely, though? Not even those caves could hide them.
“How did you find us?” he asked.
“So there’s still two of you?” she replied. “That’s good to know.”
Kunsel inwardly cursed.
“I wasn’t even following the lead for you,” she said when he stayed silent. “The tipoff didn’t have much information. At first I thought it might have been about Genesis copies. But then once I started thinking about it, Mideel made a certain amount of sense.” There was a rueful twist to her lips.
“Unlucky for us,” Kunsel agreed. He missed his helmet and shoulder pauldron deeply. He had his sword, but no bracer to equip materia to. His gaze flit to the treeline, but he couldn’t spot any support. Was she really alone?
Her stance was professional. Unworried, conversational. But Kunsel had seen her around Zack, remembered what she looked like when she really relaxed.
She was nervous. But why?
“What’s Zack think about all this?” he challenged.
She glanced away, holding her arm. “He doesn’t know,” she admitted softly.
“Then you’ve been lying to him for four years,” Kunsel said.
She went quiet at that. Then said, “Tseng wasn’t sure. None of us were. Not until you escaped. Hojo… you weren’t the only survivors of Nibelheim. Some of the townspeople… I’d hoped… that Sephiroth had killed you. It would be easier.”
“Yeah well, there were times that I wished Sephiroth had killed us too,” Kunsel replied bitterly. “But we’re still here. And that’s inconvenient for ShinRa now, isn’t it?”
A cool wind swept across the beach, chasing the stifling humidity away, scattering sand across their shoes.
“…I wanted to give you a chance,” Cissnei said. “I’m not supposed to. But the military will catch up with you eventually. ShinRa always does.” She held her hands behind her back, face turned to the sky. “The Turks… we could hide you. You wouldn’t be the first people we’d kept out of reach of the Science Department.”
“You think I’m buying that?” Kunsel replied.
She tilted her head at him. Questioning.
“You’re here alone,” he said. “And you hide it well, but you’re nervous. You’re stalling. You expected two of us, but you can only find one.”
She’d gone still now. Like a coeurl that had just caught scent of a much bigger predator.
“You put on a good act, but you’re a Turk. I know you’re not stupid. I knew you before. I pay attention to the friends of my friends.” Kunsel adjusted his grip on his blade. Let his gaze skip across the tree line once more, just in case.
“If it were me?” he continued. “And I knew the other one couldn’t defend himself? I’d send people to fetch him first while I kept the biggest threat distracted. Then I’d have a hostage so I could take the functioning SOLDIER in without any casualties.”
Cissnei let her hands fall into a battle ready stance. With a lightning quick flick of her wrists, she was holding an oversized shuriken in one hand, and her phone in the other.
Kunsel had heard rumours about such a Turk. He’d never been sure it was her, the sweet soft-spoken Turk Zack seemed so fond of, but…
If it were true, she was no slouch in battle.
She was no SOLDIER, either.
She was one Turk, alone, stalling.
He needed to know, though. “If you really are a friend of Zack’s- why?”
“Because we’d lose him.” Her voice was hard, and cold, so unlike the pleasant lilt she’d always used with Zack. “And I will betray him a hundred times more, if it keeps him safe.”
Kunsel’s gaze flit to the phone in her hand, as she slowly raised it, fingers poised to dial.
She knew she couldn’t win a fight. But it would only take one call to tell ShinRa where they were. One word to send a signal.
“Don’t,” he whispered, desperate. “Don’t make me-” She was Zack’s friend.
Her knuckles were white with the force of her grip, but she didn’t back down.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Her fingers twitched, starting to dial, but Kunsel was faster.
His sword pierced her throat, and it was over as quickly as that.
Next chapter
no subject
Date: 2018-08-26 02:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-08-26 04:56 pm (UTC)Hm... what does the white materia do, I wonder?
no subject
Date: 2018-09-02 02:23 pm (UTC)It'll be revealed a bit later, promise.