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From September 13th - September 20th, join us for another celebration of our favorite hero!
âïž For our fifth year, we will follow Zack's journey from his childhood to early adulthood and beyond! Let's look back on what makes Zack the hero that he is đ
The rules are simple:
You are free to interpret the prompts however you like.
All types of fanworks, including fanart, fanfics, graphics, gifsets, video edits, headcanons and much more are welcome.
Tag us on your post and mention the prompt/day your work is created for.
Use the tags #zackweek and #zackweek2025 within the first five tags.
Please kindly let us know if we missed your post throughout the week!
Have fun and let's spread the Zack love!
Thank you for joining us! We can't wait to see your creations~
âïž More rules and guidelines on our carrd.
âïž We are also hosting the event on X/Twitter and Bluesky.
@ff7zinenews @ffviifandomcalendar @ff7central Thank you for the boost!
Summary: Upon returning from a mission, Zack drags Kunsel out of bed and spars with him before the sun is even out.
Notes: written for @zackfair-week Day 2: Ideals/ Mission
~*~*~*~*~*~
âWhy do you work so hard?â Kunsel asked him one day.Â
They were doing their morning drillsâa hundred laps followed by a sparring session. Kunsel was a year older and had been in SOLDIER for another year longer, but it hadnât taken Zack long to catch up to him. In fact, Zack had earned the envy of many of his fellow soldiers, older and otherwise, since his recruitment. Being thirteen with an innate physical prowess, Zack often bested even some of the seasoned warriors. When it was announced that he would be mentored by none other than the esteemed First-Class Angeal Hewley, many of the other recruits had looked at him with a mixture of bitterness and awe. But not Kunsel. His self-proclaimed right-hand man had only clapped his shoulder and said great job and good luck, donât waste your chance. Still, two years since his appointment as Angealâs pupil and having done daily practices together for almost as long, Kunsel couldnât seem to keep his curiosity quiet any longer.Â
âAngealâs already working you to the bone,â his friend went on. âYou returned from a mission late last night, and now youâre already back training when the sunâs not even up.â I need my beauty sleep, came the unspoken words evident in the slight downturn of Kunselâs lips. One corner of Zackâs mouth quirked into a smirk.
Kunselâs sword missed the tip of Zackâs head by a hairsbreadth as Zack ducked and brought his own blade swinging down on Kunselâs side. The other man leapt away nimbly, though he stumbled on his feet on his landing. Zack rushed forward and slashed Kunselâs chest with his wooden sword. The orb strapped to Kunselâs shoulder beeped red, signaling the third critical strike Zack had landed on him.Â
Kunsel heaved a sigh and let his sword arm drop. âYouâre getting faster,â he panted.Â
Zack stepped back, his own chest heaving and sweat glistening on his temple. âOnce more,â he said.
But Kunsel shook his head and held up a hand. âLet me rest. Weâve been sparring for one whole hour.â He then stalked away to the edge of the room where his water bottle waited on a steel table.Â
Zack cast his eyes at the timepiece on the wall: 6:15 AM. The sun should be up by now, but the steel walls adorning the SOLDIER training rooms prevented any light from seeping in. Here, the white neon glares would even make the darkest of nights into day. They wouldnât fade as long as the room was occupied. Zack set his sword down and closed his eyes.Â
Visions of his previous mission flickered across his mindâs eye. A simple guard duty which even a Third-Class should be able to execute flawlessly, yet the mission had been given to Zackâa Second-Classâdue to the weight of its nature. Zack had been tasked to guard an item of import during its transportation. But not only had he almost failed bringing the item to its destination unscathed, innocent civilians had been involved in the following altercation with the supposed bandits.Â
The mission had ended well, in the end, with the item arriving intact, but there was no denying that Zackâs performance had been subpar at best. The mayor of the town had expressed his gratitude still, but Zack could not ignore the quake in his heart that he hadnât done his best, that the mission couldâve gone more smoothly had he been stronger, smarter.
His arms twitched, screamed at him to move, to swing his sword, to train, train, trainâ
âZack.â The call cut through his ruminations. A sideways glance revealed Kunsel holding out a water bottle to him.Â
Zack pursed his lips. âOne more round,â he said.Â
âNot until after youâve rested,â his friend said with a shake of his head.
Clenching his jaws, Zack finally let his feet move, leading him to the steel table where Kunsel stood. When Zack didnât immediately take the bottle from Kunselâs hand, Kunsel pushed it to his chest instead.Â
âDrink,â he said. âRest. We still have our real morning drill in a couple hours.â
Zack stared at his bottle, already uncapped. Adrenaline still rushed in his bloodstream, and his muscles ached to train.Â
âDid something happen last night?âÂ
The question came so abruptly, Zack could only look up and say, âHuh?â
âYour mission,â Kunsel added. âYouâre being unusually quiet.â
Zack blinked. âWellâŠâ His voice trailed off.Â
Kunsel scoffed softly. âItâs not like you to be so down in the dumps, not even when Angeal gave you a zero in your simulation test.â
A flicker of irritation flared in Zackâs chest. âThat was only one time!âÂ
âDoesnât change the fact that you got a zero.â Kunsel smirked, though it was only short-lived. âAnd then you had the gall to drag me out for an intensive training session that lasted âtil midnight.â
âIt gave you an edge to pass your next test though, didnât it?â Zack countered with a laugh.Â
It was a moment before he noticed Kunselâs smile, and then another moment until he realized his friend was attempting to lighten his mood. And Zack fell for it. He scowled, and Kunsel chuckled lightheartedly.Â
âSo, what happened?â his friend asked again.Â
Zackâs scowl remained for another fraction of a moment, before he sighed, then set his sword against the wall. He took several large gulps of water before he slowly recounted the events of the past several days: the item he was meant to protect, the bandits stealing it from right under his nose, the onerous attempt to reclaim it, and finally how, in the clash with the so-called bandits, civilians had gotten hurt.Â
Kunsel listened quietly, his poker face revealing none of his thoughts. Sometimes, when they were in their full uniforms, Zack could tell what his friend was thinking if he just looked hard enough for a glint here or a smirk there. But now that they were only in their shirts and cargo pants without any helmet visors to shield their faces, not even a world-class calamity could probably get a rise out of him.
Zack concluded his tale with a big, irritated harrumph as he slapped his bottle on the table and slumped against the wall. Kunsel followed after him, folding his arms and leaning on the steel wall next to him.
âDid Angeal say anything?â he asked.
âOnly that I needed to take better care.â Zack sighed. âIn the end, the mission was completed. I got the item to where it needed to go. The bandits were apprehended. ButâŠâ He scratched the back of his head, then grabbed a fistful of his damp jet-black hair, as though pulling it out of his scalp might undo the wrong heâd done last nightânot that he could pull it out; the best it could do was elicit a sting of pain.Â
Kunsel's wordless stare stabbed the side of his head. Two and a half years of friendship had taught him that Kunsel was relentless in his hunt for answers, especially since Zack had dragged him out of bed in the wee hours of the night. So even if Zack feigned a laugh and a grin and said sorry, itâs nothing, the man would not let him out of the room even if it meant theyâd be late for morning practice. So Zack heaved another sigh, and hung his head.Â
âAngeal told me once that, if I wanted to become a hero, Iâd need honor⊠and dreams,â Zack finally said.
âUh-huh.â
âSo what kind of honorable person brings harm to innocent bystanders? What kind of heroââ
âAnd stop right there.â Kunsel chopped his head, effectively stopping him midsentence.
Zack whirled around, arms covering the spot now pulsing with pain. âWhat was that for!?â
âFor preventing the spread of your contagious stupidity,â Kunsel said.Â
âWhuâ?â
âLook,â his friend went on. âDid Angeal say anything about you being dishonorable or anything of the like?â
Zack set his jaws. âNo.â
âAnd did you do everything in your power to minimize the damage done to the civilians?â
âWell, yes. Butââ
âThen there you have it. Youâre already pretty much the hero of the hour to me.â
âBut that wouldnât have happened if I hadnât been so careless!â Zack shouted. âIâd have delivered the item on time and unscathed! None of the people would have gotten hurt! If only Iâd been smarter, stronger, hadnât rushed aheadââ
âAnd would wallowing in your misery do anything to further your dream?â
Kunsel stared at him, his brown, mako-rimmed eyes meeting Zackâs blue ones. âI get that youâre angry, but thereâs a fine line between drowning yourself in despair and learning from your mistakes. It seems you already knew what you did wrong. Iâm guessing thatâs why Angeal didnât say much of anything else.â
When Zack failed to respond, only looked at him with a half-open mouth, Kunsel broke into a resigned smile. He grabbed his discarded towel from the table to wipe the sweat from the back of his neck.Â
âWhy did you want to become a hero, Zack?âÂ
Zack blinked. âIââ It was a simple, childish dream, borne from fairy tales and bedtime stories his mother used to tell of warriors bringing salvation to their kingdoms. And then the radio started relaying news of a group of soldiers saving entire villages and towns. They were regaled as heroes.Â
Zack scratched his jaw and averted his eyes. âI wanted to help people,â he said.
Kunsel smirked. âNot for the fame or glory, then?â
Heat rushed to Zackâs cheeks. âNo! WellâI mean, it would be nice to be called a hero, but thatâs not really the reason whyâŠâ When he was younger, Zack was often called to help around his village. Odd jobs, for the most part: taking out a dog for a walk, guarding a chicken coop, feeding chocobos, among others. Itâd been less about the reward and more about the gratification heâd felt after successfully completing his duties. Perhaps even a nobody like him from a small backwater town could make a difference in someone elseâs life and leave a mark in the world.
âI wanted to help as many people as I can,â Zack repeated a little more firmly. âBut instead of helping people, Iâd brought them harmâŠâÂ
âWill you let that thought stop you?â
Zack shook his head. âI need to train more butââ He glanced at his sword. âThis isnât the only form of training I should do.â
Kunsel grinned. âIf you ever need someone to train on stealth missions, Iâm your guy. You may be the strongest in your batch, but Iâm pretty confident this is the one field where Iâm better than you.â Then he clapped Zackâs shoulder, grabbed his bottle and sword, then crossed the room to the exit door.Â
âHey! Whereâre you going?â Zack called over.
âGetting ready!â Kunsel replied over his shoulder. He pointed at the timepieceâ6:42 AM. âDrills start at 7:30. Iâm not missing out on breakfast.â
âBut you said one more round after resting!â Zack wailed, even as he picked up his sword, bottle, and towel, and caught up to Kunsel, who only laughed at his protest.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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