Some time later, Tseng was slumped in the living room window seat, nursing a cup of very strong tea and staring out at the rain. Loz, patched up, fed, and dressed in a pair of Tseng's pajamas, was sound asleep in the guest room. Yazoo still lay on the couch. Tseng was running scenarios through his mind, trying to work out exactly what should be done with his unexpected houseguests. Since they were supposed to be dead, there was an immediate problem there. Then, of course, there was the little matter involving Rude and Reno receiving a lovely beating, and the President being grilled by the youngest, thankfully absent, brother, and, of course, the fact that he and Elena had been captured and tortured, an ordeal that he was still sore from. Technically, they were an enemy to ShinRa and anyone who worked for it, with Tseng being the only apparent exception, for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom.
"What am I going to do with them?" he muttered. Leaving them here didn't seem right. It was along the same lines as leaving children alone, despite the fact that they both seemed to be in their mid to late teens. Taking them to work would be asking for trouble. He certainly couldn't hire a babysitter. Could he stay here and watch them, maybe for a few days, until he worked out a more permanent solution? "That's the only thing I can do."
Rufus Shinra's cell phone rang. He groaned and fumbled around on the counter for it.
"Hello?"
"Sir? This is Tseng."
"Tseng? Why are you calling so late?"
"Something has come up sir. I need to take a couple of days off."
"And you're telling me this now?"
"It was unexpected sir, but I-"
"Not that. Why did you decide to call tonight?"
"Tomorrow morning, my apartment is going to be engulfed in chaos. If I don't tell you now, I won't get a chance to."
"Relatives?"
"Something like that," Tseng muttered.
"I see. Take the rest of the week off, and I'll see you on Monday."
"Thank you sir."
"Goodnight." Rufus hung up. So did Tseng.
Thank God. Now I've got four days to figure out what to do with these kids. I need to…better make a list.
Impress my seniority- what I say goes
Lay down some rules
Find appropriate clothing- Mine won't do
Grocery Shopping
Confiscate weaponry
Ask questions- any special needs? Allergies? Sore points?
Hide anything they shouldn't see/know about
Remember: they're just kids
Get them to trust me
"And that should do it." Tseng said, finally, capping the pen and rereading the list.
Now all I can do is hope this works out.
When morning came, Tseng allowed himself the luxury of sleeping in a bit. A bit was classified, in his book anyway, as no later than 7:00 o'clock. This morning, it was closer to 6:30. Tseng was an early riser.
The apartment was quiet when he woke up, and it was a painful reminder of how crazy things were going to get later on. Ignoring the voice at the back of his head that was telling him exactly how much trouble he was in, Tseng went to make a cup of tea.
Loz hobbled in around 8 o'clock, ruffled, groggy, and with as many questions as a toddler. Tseng made him a cup of tea, heavy on the milk and sugar, and made French toast while he answered questions…
"Aren't you a Turk?"
"Yes."
"Aren't you supposed to be at work, then?"
"I've got time off."
"What're you making?"
"French toast."
"What's a French?"
"I have no idea." Loz paused, giving Tseng a curious look. It was as if he didn't quite believe Tseng didn't have the answer to everything. "Really."
"What's your name?"
"Why?" Tseng countered, growing bored with twenty questions. Loz looked taken aback.
"You're supposed to know people's names," he said, sounding a little unsure. "And you know mine."
"Tseng."
"What?"
"I'm Tseng." Tseng was allowed a few minutes of peace while Loz had fun saying his name, deliberately mispronouncing it because he seemed to like the sound of it. Then Loz had another question.
"Where's my brother?"
"On the couch in the living room, asleep."
"I meant my littlest brother."
"Kadaj?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know, really, but I was told that he…well, died isn't the word for it. He returned to the Life Stream."
"He…did?" Loz asked slowly. Tseng nodded. Loz looked confused, like he couldn't decide whether to cry or get angry. "H-how do you know? Were you there?"
"I wasn't."
"Why not?" Loz made it sound as if Tseng had been obligated to be there. It annoyed Tseng.
"Because I was getting the President out of the rescue nets we had to catch him in."
"You could have stopped him," Loz muttered, and Tseng knew he meant Kadaj.
"How?" he asked. "Less than a week ago, I was beaten so badly I nearly died; would have died, if someone hadn't come and saved me. After that, I was trying to track down my employer and praying he wouldn't do something rash, which he did. I had no idea what was going on, and wasn't informed until after it was too late to do anything. And why would I have stopped him? I didn't know what he was, where he was, or what to do about it." Loz flinched, and Tseng felt a little guilty.
"You're helping us," he whimpered. Tseng went from slightly guilty to very guilty.
"That's different," he said.
"How?"
"You need help. And you aren't trying to kill me or destroy the Planet, which is a plus." That made Loz smile a little. Granted, it was a weak smile, but a smile all the same. "And I…I didn't know."
"Know what?"
"How young you are."
"We aren't that young," Loz sniffed.
"You're still teenagers. That's young, as far as I'm concerned."
"That, or you're just old."
"Not old. Just feeling like it. Speaking of which, how old are you two?" With the rather dangerous topic of Kadaj's death out of the way for now, Tseng felt quite a bit safer.
"I think I'm nineteen…and Yazoo is…two years younger, maybe. I don't really know. It never mattered before. Does it matter now?"
"Yes and no. I think your guess may be a year or two over the truth, in which case both of you are minors, which may or may not raise problems in the future. Of course, either one of you being a legal adult could raise just as much trouble, so don't worry about it. I was just curious." Tseng slid four slices of French toast out of the pan and onto a plate. "Here."
Loz eyed the toast. Tseng sighed.
"You eat it. I like it with chocolate syrup, but that's just me. Try the maple- that one." He pointed, and watched as Loz carefully examined the syrup before drenching his toast with it.
"You sound like Kadaj," he muttered. "He loved sweets. Chocolate for breakfast…yech."
"There's nothing wrong with chocolate," Tseng sniffed, flipping his toast.
"The way you eat it? Yeah, there is. Gross," Loz added, watching Tseng apply syrup. "That's disgusting."
"And I think maple is revolting, so we're even." In an uncharacteristic lapse of manners, Tseng mumbled this last around a mouthful of chocolaty French toast. Loz snorted and returned his attention to his own breakfast.
Tseng left Loz with a second plate of toast and took a cup of weak tea into the living room to check up on Yazoo. He was in luck. Yazoo had rolled onto his back and managed to push himself into a partially upright position, silently observing his surroundings. His eyes widened when he saw Tseng.
"You," he whispered, and Tseng hated how his voice was fearful and shocked.
"I'm Tseng."
"Kadaj said you were dead." Yazoo's voice was raspy and quiet, evidence of the cough Tseng hadn't been quite sure how to treat the night before.
"Almost, but not quite. I'm still recovering, though. How're you feeling?" Yazoo didn't answer, and gave the mug a look that Tseng usually reserved for possibly fatal substances. Clearly, he wouldn't be as easy to befriend as his bother had been. Granted, this was usually a good thing, but it made life that much harder for Tseng. "There's nothing wrong with it."
"I don't believe you."
"Do you want me to drink from it, to prove that I'm right?"
"You're a Turk," Yazoo spat. "You're unnatural. Who knows what you can do."
"I know what I can do, and I can assure you that I have no access to the poisons that I am immune to. Therefore, I can't trick you into drinking something toxic. Loz told me that you haven't eaten in five days. You need to get something into your system."
"Loz is here?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Eating breakfast in the kitchen."
"Is he alright? His leg was-"
"He's fine. I patched him up after I took care of you." Yazoo looked surprised.
"When?"
"Last night."
"I don't remember it."
"You were unconscious. And you would have stayed that way, if Loz hadn't agreed to let me help you." Yazoo glared at Tseng. "Okay, listen. I'm not holding anything against you or Loz. I'm alive and functioning, and that is all that matters as far as our previous contact is concerned. At the moment, you need care and both of you need a place to stay. I am offering both. I suggest you get over whatever it is that's keeping you from trusting me, because it's just the three of us here, and life is going to be a lot harder if you insist on being such a little brat. Now drink the damn tea!" Tseng shoved the mug into Yazoo's hands and stormed off to take a shower.
In the shower, it took Tseng a grand total of three minutes to feel guilty for yelling at Yazoo. The kid was hurt, sick, and in a strange environment with a man who he had helped torture. It was natural to be hostile.
"I wasn't meant to be caring for children," Tseng muttered, turning the shower's temperature down until it was cold enough to wake him up properly. Then he turned it back to a more tolerable temperature and continued with his shower.