[ That voice used to bring him some measure of comfort. In a way, he thinks he might have been the only person to think such a thing--he knows that Aerith tremored a little, thinking of Tseng, though he never knew why, and he knows that Reno always sassed about that voice delivering the worst news, always, bringing the tidings of terrible missions and even worse consequences for failing. But to him, Tseng had been something of a friend in the company, someone that he knew had all the answers, someone who would begrudgingly tolerate his sunny laughter, his lame jokes, his complaints, his worries. He'd even seen Tseng smile, once or twice: small, tight things that had made him feel like maybe things wouldn't be so bad, continuing like this. Maybe being in SOLDIER was a good thing. Maybe it could all work out okay.
In the end, it's Tseng that he had been afraid of. The line between the company and his loyalty, the line between his dubious morals and his bottom line: the Turks had been after them, of course, and he had expected as much, but he hadn't expected the thought to hurt so much. If it had been Tseng there, watching him haul Cloud's comatose body out of another safe house, another ditch--if it had been Tseng there, seeing him forced to scavenge for food like they're back in the boonies--would he have taken pity on him? Or would he support the savage boundary that Shinra created? Would their friendship have mattered?
Did he take care of Aerith? He trusted him to do that much--and honestly, in some ways, he wouldn't have begrudged him for anything else. It's not like he's angry, not like he resents him, not like he holds him responsible for the whole of the Shinra company, and Hojo, and everything else.
But it does twist something in him, hearing that voice. When he turns to address him, it's with his usual lopsided grin, carefree and soft; he jerks a hand in indication at the painting, pointing it out with his thumb. ]
Get a load of this, Tseng. [ If he pretends hard enough, can they go back? Can it be like it used to be? Would Tseng like that? Would he let it happen? ] They want something sweet from us. Flirting.
[ His grin broadening, he folds his arms in against his chest. ]
You're not gonna back down either, right? That's what I always liked about you.
teasing trio it is!
In the end, it's Tseng that he had been afraid of. The line between the company and his loyalty, the line between his dubious morals and his bottom line: the Turks had been after them, of course, and he had expected as much, but he hadn't expected the thought to hurt so much. If it had been Tseng there, watching him haul Cloud's comatose body out of another safe house, another ditch--if it had been Tseng there, seeing him forced to scavenge for food like they're back in the boonies--would he have taken pity on him? Or would he support the savage boundary that Shinra created? Would their friendship have mattered?
Did he take care of Aerith? He trusted him to do that much--and honestly, in some ways, he wouldn't have begrudged him for anything else. It's not like he's angry, not like he resents him, not like he holds him responsible for the whole of the Shinra company, and Hojo, and everything else.
But it does twist something in him, hearing that voice. When he turns to address him, it's with his usual lopsided grin, carefree and soft; he jerks a hand in indication at the painting, pointing it out with his thumb. ]
Get a load of this, Tseng. [ If he pretends hard enough, can they go back? Can it be like it used to be? Would Tseng like that? Would he let it happen? ] They want something sweet from us. Flirting.
[ His grin broadening, he folds his arms in against his chest. ]
You're not gonna back down either, right? That's what I always liked about you.