Tseng's Story.

The woman who usually ran the day-care centre had gone on a long awaited, and much deserved holiday. Her temporary replacement was a young, serious woman who was working with very young children for the first time. She remembered the looks of the suspicious mothers as they dragged the screaming toddlers through the brightly painted doorway. They didn't trust her with their little darlings. She put on her best smile, and tried to recall what the other woman had said.

"Now, Kume is a bit of a biter, and he may bully the other children a little, so when you scold him, try not to stand too close. Jas, poor little thing, her mother's just had the eighth one, so she's not that well looked after. Her head is practically crawling with lice and other things, so I wouldn't let her play in the Wendy House with the other children, and make sure her hair is tied back at all times."

This was when the woman had leaned closer, and muttered in a low voice,

"Now I probably shouldn't judge, so keep this to yourself, but there's one other child that I like to keep an eye on."

"Let me guess," The young woman said brightly, "Still wear's nappies?"

"Oh no, nothing like that!" The older woman shook her head, "His name is Tseng. He's quite extraordinary."

"Clever?"

"Yes, amongst other things. He's ever so quite and polite, and you'd think the other children would bully him, but they don't, they do exactly as he says, and even though he doesn't really have many friends, he's always appointed group leader in the little games they play. He's usually very good, but then sometimes he looses his temper and…" Here the woman's eyes went wide, "Its actually frightening. Its like watching a fully grown man! He's just so mature and- well, just keep an eye on him."

"I will."

The younger woman eyed the small group of children now, as they played in the sandpit. She counted heads again. Her heart stopped. Twelve. There should be thirteen. She remembered the little dark-haired boy who had stood away from the others during snack-time. It was he who had gone. Trying to stay calm, she quickly scanned the large hall. Her eyes fell upon the large main entrance, and her heart sank. It was open. After forbidding the children to move from the sandpit, she grabbed her coat, and made for the door. She didn't have to go far.

Leaning casually on the wall outside, an old-fashioned toy phone pressed against his ear, was Tseng.

"Yes Mr President," He was saying, quite seriously, "I've completed the mission and the others are coming-" He stopped suddenly, and pressed his hand over the receiver, "It's not polite to listen to people's conversations you know."

"Tseng!" She cried, grabbing his wrist and dragging him back into the hall, "You naughty little boy! How dare you go wandering off into the street! Why did you do it?"

"Well I don't usually like having people listening to my phone calls," He said coolly, "So I take them outside like my mother and father do."

"Can't you just play with the phone inside the hall?"

"No!" He looked horrified at the thought, "I wouldn't want that lot to hear any of the vital information I have to give to the President."

She frowned,

"Which president?"

"The president of Shin-Ra of course! Who else?"

She raised her eyebrows. Shin-Ra Electrical Power Company. His parents must work for them or something.

"Well here, we don't have anything to do with Shin-Ra," She said, "Our president is Mr Fluffy," She pointed to the wobbly pictures of the cheesy bunny rabbit, painted by the children themselves.

Quick as a flash, Tseng pulled a miniature toy pistol out of his pocket, and pointed it at her. It was only child's play, but she found it sent a cold chill shivering up her spine.

"Put that nasty toy down Tseng," She said firmly.

"I'm sorry," He said, "But you have been accused of working for another power company, and are therefore Shin-Ra's enemy. BANG BANG!" He shouted it so suddenly, it made her jump. He lowered the gun and scowled at her, "You know, when people get shot, they usually fall on the ground."

"This isn't an appropriate game to be playing Tseng," She said crossly, taking the gun and the phone away from him, "I want you to go and play in the sandpit with the other boys and girls." She hated to admit it, but she was afraid of this boy.

He scowled again, and thrust his hands into his pockets, before moving over to the crowded sandpit. Two seconds before, the children had been fighting for space, snatching each other's buckets and spades, but the moment that strange little boy put his foot on the wooden rim, a big space was cleared, and the other children were falling over themselves trying to give him their own spades. He'd said and done nothing to make them frightened, but it seemed that they just wanted to please him.

"You've got an…imaginative little boy there," She said to his mother later on, when it was time for the children to be collected.

"Oh, he isn't my son," The woman smiled, "I'm the family au pair. His parents are never home, and so I look after him most of the time."

"From the amount of knowledge about the company he has, I guess they both work for Shin-Ra."

"Yes, they're both executives in different departments. Tseng likes to pretend he works in Shin-Ra too, like a spy or something. He's very realistic about it sometimes."

"I'm going to be a Turk," The boy said proudly. The au pair laughed,

"Come now Tseng, everybody knows the Turks are just a myth. Why don't you be one of the SOLDIER instead?"

"No," The boy stuck his chin out, "They do exist." He balled his fists suddenly, and stamped on the floor, "They DO exist!" He started to cry loudly, "They do exist, they do, they do!"

"Oops!" The au pair seemed to take this in her stride, "He always gets like this when we tell him the Turks don't exist. I'd better get him home."

The temporary day-care woman looked on as they left, and listened to the child's cries until they had completely died. The incident had made her uneasy, for watching it had been like watching a grown man start crying. In truth, it frightened her greatly, but she never spoke of it, and was glad to leave the day-care centre when that other woman returned from her holiday. When asked what the children had been like, she would only ever smile, and say,

"Oh, they were nice."

Many years later, as a middle aged woman with three children of her own, she happened to glance at a newspaper lying on the breakfast table.

YOUNG MIDGAR MAN MISSING NOW FOR TWO WEEKS!

It was two weeks ago today that a young man, Tseng Tsari, disappeared without a trace, and authorities still haven't found a single clue. The missing man should have returned home to his flat in Sector Six fourteen days ago, but has not been seen anywhere since his last sighting, getting into a black limo containing a middle aged gentleman at precisely quarter past three in the afternoon. Witnesses are urged to contact…

She stopped reading the report, and stared at the picture under the text. Although it was in black and white, and her memory was faded, she was certain it was that same little boy from the day-care centre, the serious eyes were the same, and so was the face and hair, although it was longer now and tied back into a tiny ponytail. She found that she was quite disturbed by the article, and her hands were still shaking as she waved her husband off to work later that morning. It was then that a black car, not a limo, but indeed very nice, sped past at double the speed limit. She didn't see the driver clearly, but she could have sworn he had serious features, and dark hair tied back into a tiny ponytail, and that there had been a phone pressed against his ear…