English is not my first language. Please bear with grammatical errors.
And for your information, my fic is based on the remastered version (but I watched the original version, too).
Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD.
The Girl of the Past
Meer Campbell. It was the name of their regrets.
"So you've decided?" her blue-haired friend asked.
Since coming back from PLANT a little while ago, she and Kira had been staying at one of Cagalli's estates—different from the one they had briefly stayed before, for that one had been destroyed by the ZAFT special unit—and enjoying a peaceful time after the war. Athrun was visiting them to talk about the offer the Supreme Council had made to her.
"Yes," Lacus answered decisively, "I will be the Chairwoman."
Athrun's face turned hesitant, and after a few moments, he slowly said, "Cagalli is a little worried about it."
She reassuringly smiled at him, knowing her golden-haired friend wasn't the only one who was worried. "I know it will not be easy. However, I have to do this." She paused, then continued, "Meer-san's death is my fault."
Pain flickered across his face, which mirrored hers. She knew he had as much feelings of guilt as she did.
She gave him a sad expression and he lowered his gaze.
Her gaze dropped as well, as if burdened by the weight of words she was going to say. "You cannot get back the past. You cannot turn back the hands of time. However, I wanted to do it. I could not let go of my past. That...my regrets caused her death." She released a painful sigh.
A part of her had been wanting to get back old times. The time when she had been free from her burdens. The time when she had been able to live without really being involved with war or politics. The time when she had been able to be just Lacus, or at least Lacus Clyne who was an idol and a daughter of a politician, not the Songstress of Peace who had become an icon of peace in PLANT.
She missed those days. The days when her father had still been with her.
She couldn't help wondering whether he would still be alive had she not chosen to engage in war. And she had not been able to bear parting with Kira when the previous war ended. He was the most important person to her after her father's death. She had just lost her father, and not wanted to lose Kira from her life as well, to lose everyone she loved.
She had wanted to think only about what she wanted: being around Kira and living in a quiet place where she could associate with only those she cared about without being bothered by the outside world. She had just wanted to focus on her own life and happiness.
And she had thought that she could do it. That people would forget her after a while and she could become a nobody. That she could become just a girl who lived on an island and liked singing, not much more. She had not been able to let go of the girl who had had freedom to do what she wanted to do and be what she wanted to be. She had not been able to accept that girl, that kind of life, was already gone.
She had never wanted to become the Songstress of Peace even when she made her choice to stand up and fight knowing it would result in such a situation. It had been only a means to her, not a goal. It had been only the necessary cost to accomplish her goal. It had been a task she had been afraid of doing. It had been a task she wanted to stop doing. And she had, which was irresponsible of her.
Coordinators and Naturals could and should live peacefully together; PLANT and the countries of the Earth should search for a way they could co-exist peacefully instead of continuing to attack each other. That was what she believed. That was what she had advocated during the previous war. Nevertheless, she had refused to take part in the search, in the attempt to rebuild a peaceful world.
She had known the people of PLANT expected her to show them the way after the war as well as during the war. Or at least many of the ordinary citizens had. And most of the Clyne faction had expected her to work with them to protect the peace they had won. They had expected her to continue what she had started, to keep fighting. But she had abandoned it. She had gone against their expectations, leaving the task in the hands of others.
She still didn't think it had been entirely wrong. You didn't have to do everything yourself. It was all right to entrust some tasks to other people who were willing and capable.
However, it didn't mean she didn't have to do anything.
She had not really been able to tell other people which way to go. She was a critic rather than an initiator, the brake rather than the accelerator, an adviser and a mediator who logically stopped people from going the wrong way rather than a leader who passionately urged people to come a certain way with her. Nor had she thought she should tell others what was the right way. It was what each person had to think and decide for themselves. She couldn't give them their answer.
But still, she could search for a better way together with others, and she should have done it. It might not have been easy for her to officially take part in politics like Cagalli. Even if she had not been able to do it, however, she could have done other things to build a bridge between Coordinators and Naturals, between PLANT and other countries. Even if she had had no power or position, she still could have helped others who did, like Athrun had helped Cagalli. She could have done something to protect the peace she wanted to enjoy, the peace she wanted other people to cherish and protect.
She had known it was the right thing to do. Yet, she had not wanted to do it. She had not wanted to be a prisoner of her public image. So she had chosen to escape from dealing with it altogether, to completely retire from public, from fighting.
Well, it had not been exactly a wrong decision, though not the right one. It probably had not been best for everyone. It might not have been even best for herself. But at least she had made a decision which she thought was best to protect her happiness, which was never a wrong thing to do.
The battle she had decided to fight was to end the war, which had been over. And she had not had the will to keep fighting or wished to do it. After all, the major reason she had chosen to fight was Kira; he had been retiring to a peaceful life, and she had had no reason to want to fight another battle when it meant giving up being around him.
Her heart had been longing for different things, and she didn't think she could have fought the battle well anyway, without her heart in it. And without her father or Kira at her side. Without anyone she loved. Without anyone she could trust to accept her as just Lacus.
Besides, it had not been her obligation to begin with. Like it wasn't like she was obligated to become the Chairwoman of PLANT now. She still had the right to refuse to get involved with politics. It wasn't wrong, she knew. This was her life and her choice. No one could force her to do it if she didn't want to. She wouldn't let anyone do it, and she knew Kira and her friends would help her defend her freedom to choose her own future.
It was just that she couldn't bear making the same decision. Not anymore. Not with the painful knowledge of what kind of consequence would await her.
After the previous war, she had not really understood the gravity of her choice. She had underestimated her influence. She had not imagined there would be someone who impersonated her, someone who tried to use her image to that extent. It was true, indeed, that you didn't really know about even yourself, she thought bitterly.
But now she knew it. She knew that if she again chose to do nothing about what she had created, there might be another Meer Campbell. She couldn't bear letting that happen.
Then, she should do something. Whether she liked it or not, it was the situation she was in. It was the consequence of her choice. She had to take the responsibility for her decisions and actions.
She had to take back the control of her image and reputation in her own hands, prevent someone else from using it to their advantage again. She had to do it for her own sake more than anything, to avoid experiencing any more regrets and agony over her negligence.
She couldn't have both: freedom from burdens and freedom from qualms of conscience. She had to either give up a freewheeling life or endure a guilty conscience. She had to make a choice—and she had made it. She knew which of them she wanted more. She knew which option was more unbearable to her.
"I cannot run away again. I owe it to her," she calmly said, lifting her eyes to look at Athrun who looked back.
She had not been able to save Meer, but she could save another girl from meeting the same end.
Lacus Clyne the Songstress of Peace. It was she that had created it, and thus had to take the responsibility. It was her burden, no one else's. She had to take it on her shoulders. No matter how much she didn't like it, it was still a part of her. No matter how much she wanted to escape from it, she couldn't. She had to face it and accept it. She had to protect it, not letting anyone steal it from her. She had to control it. So that she could have a future she wanted.
That was what she had decided she should do, what she thought she needed to do for her own sake, for her own happiness. That was what she wished to do.
Athrun just nodded, and left after exchanging some more words with her and Kira who had been silently listening to their conversation.
Kira excused himself to walk Athrun to his car, probably wanting to have a private talk, which she didn't mind. They might need to discuss some military affairs, for they were both high-ranking officers of the Orb's military now.
She walked toward the window, looked at the sea outside, and listened to seagulls. She would miss this after she went back to PLANT. During her time on the Earth, she had grown to love seeing the sea and walking around the beach. She would miss the voice of the children as well. In fact, she was already missing it since they had returned to the island and this place felt rather too quiet.
But the time of calm was over. It had been over a long time ago. Only she had not wanted to admit it. The time she could believe that she could be an ordinary person who lived an ordinary life was gone.
Her lips slightly curled up in a faint sarcastic smile. Some people in PLANT called her a goddess who was perfect and always right. She didn't agree with—or didn't want to be called by—such an inhuman nickname. However, there might be some truth in it. Although it wasn't that she was always right, she always tried to do what she believed was right.
No. She couldn't help doing it. She couldn't allow herself to do what she believed was wrong. Even if it was cold of her. Even if it meant sacrificing the life of someone important to her.
She knew part of the reason why she didn't like, maybe even hated, that nickname was that she was suspecting she might be inhumane enough to deserve it.
It was another reason why she had wanted to be done with fighting, whether politically or militarily. Although she was never eager to lead a country, it wasn't because she doubted her capability. It was more like the opposite. She was sure that she could make people listen to her. That she could make wise political decisions without letting her emotions get in the way. And it made her afraid: she was capable of letting someone die if she believed it was the right thing, even someone she cared about. Even someone she loved most.
She had been afraid of being responsible for other people's lives, let alone a country, because it might make her give up on Kira's life.
She wasn't like him. She couldn't choose to do what she thought was wrong even if to protect those important to her. She could choose to ignore a cry for help if it was necessary.
She wasn't like Cagalli. She wasn't keen on serving a country with knowledge of the risk. As much as she cared about PLANT, she didn't wish to protect it that much. She didn't love it that much.
Athrun might understand her better than the twins on this point. He cared about doing the right thing as much as protecting his loved ones, so much so that he chose to fight against the people important to him. She had always known they were alike in many ways, though she wasn't sure he could go as far as she could. Although he wasn't an emotional person, he acted on his emotions from time to time, more often than she did. Even though he usually tried to hide it, he had a soft side, which she felt was different from her. Different from the side of hers that made her afraid.
She had sensed that side a long time ago, the part of her which was never swayed by emotion and always calmly calculating what was best, and what was right, to the degree it seemed unfeeling, as if it was made of cold, hard steel.
But she had not really realized how far her limit was until she engaged in fighting. Actually, it had been after the previous war ended. During the war, she had been able to tell herself it was wartime and she was only doing what needed to be done just like all her comrades were.
What had eventually resulted in the realization was the fear she had felt at the end of the final battle, when she saw the Genesis explode and thought Kira was dead as she had been afraid. The fear which had made her body ice-cold and her heart stop for a long moment.
However, he had come back alive, to her great relief and happiness. Following him to the Earth and living together with him, she had thanked stars many times that he was still with her. Facing the real possibility of his death had made her appreciate more how important he was to her.
Nevertheless, she had found that she couldn't say she would do absolutely anything to protect him, his life. That she couldn't say she would never make the same decision as she had at Mendel: forbidding Athrun to go help Kira despite fully knowing Kira was very likely to be in danger.
She had been frightened at the thought of losing him then, and yet still decided so because she knew it was the right decision. She had believed that it was wrong of her to send help to Kira knowing it was likely to result in further loss of their military power and thus in their failure to end the war. That she had to follow through on what she had decided to do, fight through the battle she had decided to fight despite knowing the risk of losing someone she cared about. It had been what she believed was right, and she had not been able to allow herself to do otherwise even to save Kira's life.
She wholeheartedly loved him. He had made her happier than she had ever been. She fervently wanted him to be alive. No matter how many times she searched in her, however, she had not been able to find any other answer. She would probably leave him alone to die again if she thought it was the right thing to do.
The realization had shocked her more greatly than anything ever had. It had made her scared of herself. She had not wanted to face the fact that it was who she was.
After meeting Kira, she had learned many new things about herself. Most of them were good to know: how much she could want or love someone, how strong and brave she could be, and how happy she could feel just by being around someone. However, knowing yourself wasn't always enjoyable. She had also learned how unpleasant jealousy was, how much fear and pain she could feel at the thought that she might not be able to have the person she wanted most, how weak and indecisive she could be because of what she wanted, of someone she wanted...and how she could sacrifice even someone she loved.
She had thought she didn't have to face or show that side of hers anymore if she stayed away from war and politics. That she could be just an ordinary girl who loved peace, not someone who indirectly killed people or caused someone she cared about to die.
She had wanted to believe so. She had not just wanted to get back the past, but also wanted to undo the past, forget a part of those she had found out about herself and pretend it had never happened.
Furthermore, she had wanted Kira to be an ordinary boy, too. She had not wanted him to fight anymore, partly because she knew it would make him suffer and partly because she knew it would cause her to fight again as well. She had just wanted them to enjoy the peace on the island so that she wouldn't have to face a horrible decision ever again. She had known they both wanted that kind of life and hoped they could have it.
Until the past caught up with her. Until she realized it was only a delusion. Until she caused someone to die again because of her choice.
She was still afraid of her power, what she was able to do. Her ability to gain popularity and her ability to make a cold decision. The abilities which were very useful especially in politics, but she didn't want to use.
However, power was just power. It didn't define her. It didn't control her. Unless she let it do so.
Now she had the will to fight and a wish she wanted to fulfill through fighting, which were necessary to use her power right. It was probably too late. Had she been able to do it earlier, Meer might still be alive. As painful as the thought was, though, she knew dwelling on what could have happened wouldn't change the past. She had made a mistake which costed the life of a girl who admired her. It was the truth and she had to accept it.
If she stood up and fight to take back the control, she probably could use her power to obtain her happiness, instead of letting it ruin her happiness. Even the side she didn't want to acknowledge might be able to help her have a happy life, if she faced it and accepted it as a part of her instead of giving up fighting and escaping from it. The steel in her might be able to be used to protect her loved ones rather than to cause them to die. Maybe she could be astute enough to make it happen.
It seemed like a great challenge, almost impossible. However, you wouldn't know whether you were capable of something unless you tried. After all, she and her allies had succeeded in ending a war twice, which she had once doubted.
Whether it was the Songstress of Peace or someone who could be almost inhumanly impassive, it was only a part of her. Just because she accepted those sides, it didn't mean they would become everything about her or she had to be always like that.
Although she didn't agree with the ex-Chairman's plan, she admitted what he had said was partly right: you had to pay attention to what people expected of you, and your power was very important.
What people expected of you and what they thought of you weren't everything about you. They weren't and shouldn't be what controlled your life. At the same time, however, it was still a part of you and of your life. You could never be free from other people's expectations. You couldn't ignore the outside world and live in a sheltered place forever. You had to deal with people other than those close to you sooner or later, people who had their own image of you and expectations for you and might force them on you.
When you ran away from them, you still let them decide what you did and how you lived your life as well as when you became a slave to them. If you wanted to have control of your life, to live the life you wanted, you had to confront that part of you. You had to be aware of the expectations for you and what could happen if you didn't meet them so that you could be prepared for the consequence of doing what you wanted to do instead of what you were expected to do. So that you could protect yourself and your life better.
Dullindal's mistake was that he had not paid as much attention to a person's heart as to their power. He had undervalued emotions and dreams: how strong it made you when you had both your will and your power, when what you wished to do and what you could do were the same, and how dangerous it could be when your heart and your mind were contradicting each other.
What you wanted was as important as what you could do or should do. Because it was who you were and what you needed to be happy, what your heart needed. And your heart was what allowed you to use your power and fulfill your duties without becoming a puppet.
She had to remember his mistake, for it was the kind of mistake she herself might make. She was aware that Dullindal and she shared some similarities. She could understand how easy it was to think that you should focus on what you could do rather than what you wanted to do, focus on what you could surely achieve rather than what you were very likely to fail. It was tough to decide to engage in a battle when you knew how high the cost of losing was and how slim the possibility of winning was.
And he had seemed to be the kind of person who preferred to act on logic rather than emotion, to be well-prepared rather than be impulsive, to pull strings behind the scenes and stealthily carry out a plan rather than go to the front and launch a direct attack, to use vague words and insinuate rather than bluntly speak their mind. Just like her.
They were both good at reading people, knowing what they should say to influence others; she knew she could manipulate people as easily as he had. His cold and hard determination to achieve his goal even at the cost of many lives including those close to him, the extent he could go in order to do what he believed was right, reminded her of the steel inside her.
That might be why he had put such an effort into eliminating her. He might have known what she could be and what she could do, known that she had what he had. That she could match him.
But still, they weren't the same. She knew how important your heart was. She knew it wouldn't do you good to ignore what your heart was telling you. She shouldn't forget it. She shouldn't make the same mistake as he had. She shouldn't be an inhumane person even if most people saw her like that.
It wasn't impossible, she was sure. She had her friends who treated her as a human. She had Kira. She could believe that at least he wouldn't deny the part of her she herself was scared of even if everyone else did. There was something about him that made her hopeful that he would accept even that part.
And now he was with her, supporting her in her fight, not as a friend but as a lover. She wouldn't have to feel alone, afraid that no one would see her as just herself. Now he was looking at her the way she had been hoping he would, which made her feel strong. He reminded her of how important the heart was, how great to have emotions and dreams was. He gave her the courage and strength to fight. That was why she could leave this quiet place and go to the political battlefield now even though it meant having to—
A gentle touch on her back brought her out of her thoughts, and she turned to find the very person who had been on her mind.
"Don't blame yourself too much." Kira slid his arm around her waist to pull her close comfortingly.
She just softened her face before resting her head on his shoulder. She would miss this warmth, too. She would miss him most.
They remained that way for a while until he took her off guard by saying, "I'll go to PLANT, too."
She widened her eyes, turning to fully face him. "Kira."
"I already talked with Cagalli about this possibility before, though just a little. And Athrun promised to pass on my message to her. I think I can make it happen with her help. After all, Orb and PLANT have decided they should do things to restore good relations, like exchanging soldiers."
She stared at him, not really knowing how to respond, which was rare for her.
Even though he had fought in two wars and was now officially a part of the Orb's military, he was still not exactly a soldier. She knew how much he hated fighting, how much he wanted a peaceful life. He could do it now that the war was over. He wasn't obligated to stay in the military. Although many people in the Orb's military, and possibly in the Orb government, wanted him to, she was sure he could find a way out with full support from Cagalli. He could go back to a civilian and live a life free from the troubles of political and military affairs.
She knew that he was afraid of his power as much as she was of hers, and had imagined he would choose to live in Orb as an ordinary citizen when the situation was stabilized enough.
It wasn't easy for her to live apart from him after two years of living together, and she had been feeling somewhat anxious. But they still could keep their relationship, and she could return to his side after several years. She had consoled herself with that, and accepted this was a necessary cost of her decision. Like she had when she decided to leave his side to gather information in space, to do what she believed she should do, during the war. There were things she had to do even if it meant giving up being around him, and she wouldn't escape from it again. That was what she had decided.
He continued, "Though I probably can't go with you. I'm sure it'll take time to make arrangements. But I'll be there for you. With you." He softly smiled at her.
Her face turned into a frown. She didn't want him to do what he didn't wish to just for her. "But, Kira..."
"I've already decided," he interrupted her in a calm voice. "I don't run away anymore, either. I'll fight." He looked somewhat melancholic, yet determined.
She gazed at his face which reminded her of the time when he had decided to return to the battlefield during the previous war. And the time when he had decided to pilot a mobile suit again in the beginning of this war. He always chose to fight in the end. No matter how much he hated fighting. No matter how much he wanted to be in a quiet place. No matter how much she didn't want him to fight.
It was the kind of person he was, and she couldn't stop him. She couldn't change him. Besides, she knew she didn't really want to. Maybe she had known deep down that he would choose this. Or at least she had hoped for it as strongly as she wanted him to stay away from fighting. If not more.
She wanted him to come with her to fight together, not just support her from afar, even if it meant leaving a quiet place, just as she had because of him. She wanted him to love her that much. Although a part of her was sad that she was involving him in fighting, another part of her was elated. What she had been craving for was now in her hands. The hope and wish she had kept in her heart since falling in love with him had come true. He had chosen being around her over having a freewheeling and peaceful life. He had chosen her.
She basked in the feeling of happiness tinged with guilt. She knew he might have not chosen her had she not stayed around him for two years. She had what she had wanted because she had escaped from her responsibility, because some people had suffered, and even died, due to her choice.
Fully aware of it, though, she was still contented. It might be selfish of her to feel like that, but not wrong. There was nothing wrong with appreciating and cherishing your happiness. Plus, the selfishness was still a part of her, and she wouldn't deny it.
She smiled at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Then, I will wait for you." She closed their distance to embrace him tightly, which he returned.
She was still missing her old life, a life she might have been able to keep had she made a different choice. Yet, she knew for sure that she would always make the same decision even if she could go back in time. She would always decide to leave her peaceful life behind so that she could be with him.
She would always choose him.
Meer Campbell. It was the name of the past they had not put behind yet.
Athrun watched Cagalli place a bouquet of pink roses in front of Meer's grave, feeling like leaving as soon as possible. He had visited the place several times, but never stayed long.
The girl's death was one of his biggest regrets. Meer had been desperate to be needed, badly wanting to do something meaningful so that people would recognize and praise her—like himself.
Right before the Second Bloody Valentine War, he had been dissatisfied with his situation. No one had seemed to really need him in Orb. Even Cagalli. Although there had been times she turned to him for support or comfort, she had looked fine enough without his help. Not that there had been many things he could do for her. There actually had been so few that he felt useless and out of place.
He had wanted to be more important, more needed, yet she had not so much as tried to stop him from leaving her side. She had not asked him to fight for her, which Dullindal had. She had not even asked him to leave ZAFT and come to the Archangel, to join her side, after finding out about his rejoining.
Now, he understood it wasn't because Cagalli had not needed or wanted him, or because Dullindal had cared about him more than she did. In fact, it was the opposite. She had let him do as he pleased instead of telling him what to do, of trying to make him do what she wanted him to, because she cared about him and wanted him to be happy. Now he understood that trying to make someone do something wasn't a sign of care or love.
But he hadn't then. He had fallen for Dullindal's sweet words, believing that the man actually appreciated him as a person rather than just want to exploit his abilities for his own benefit, which was a mistake.
A mistake both Meer and he had made. A mistake which had costed her her life. What had happened to her might have happened to him as well. It might have been he that died like that. He had been simply fortunate that he had been able to get out of the predicament alive, and without losing his loved ones.
It wasn't the major reason why he felt uncomfortable at Meer's grave, though. The discomfort was somewhat different from what he felt at the graves of other people. It wasn't just regret, sorrow, or guilt. There was a kind of fear in the feeling, too.
As he was here with Cagalli, it dawned on him what he was afraid of: the future. The thought of Meer reminded him of that fear, and it was what disturbed him.
A memory concerning her death came back to his mind, and he opened his mouth. "Lacus blamed herself for Meer's death."
Cagalli turned her body toward him, simply fixing her eyes on his face.
Feeling reassured by her silent encouraging, he continued, "She said Meer had died because she had wanted to get back the past. Maybe I wanted that, too. And maybe...that was why Meer died."
She blinked. "Athrun?"
He had surely had a desire to turn back the hands of time. He had had so many regrets, what he could have done and what he should have done. What he might have been able to change. What he wished he had been able to change. So many lives he wished he had been able to save. So many things he wished he had dealt with in a different way, a better way.
And he had wanted to believe that he could do it. That he could handle things better this time since he was supposed to have become maturer and smarter. He had hoped he could do things right this time, make up for his failures.
Yet, he had just ended up repeating the same mistakes. He had not really become maturer. Maybe because he had not tried to deal with his past before the rejoining, to fully face and accept his past mistakes so that he could learn from them and grow up.
His past always had felt unbearably heavy. He had wanted to abandon it, cut himself off from it if he couldn't change it. He couldn't say the idea had not been on his mind when he decided to go to Orb after the First Bloody Valentine War though it wasn't the primary reason.
Despite not liking to be a mere bodyguard, he had not really disliked living under a different identity. Not just because it allowed him to stay close to Cagalli. It had probably been a way for him to escape from his past. Being a person without any position or power had been frustrating, but not being Athrun Zala—who had made many mistakes, and whose father had made even more mistakes—had been relieving.
Until he realized that his father's legacy was still alive and well, and he couldn't allow himself to flee from it after all. That he couldn't escape from his past. That he couldn't escape from his own desire to have power and do something.
Then, he had just seized the position and power he had been offered and started fulfilling the tasks assigned to him, without considering whether it really would help him accomplish what he wanted to do, whether it really was the path that would bring him to where he wanted to go. The feeling of uselessness had fueled his urge to be useful, to be recognized and approved, and blinded him to his situation, to what he was becoming—what he was going back to.
Or maybe he had just looked the other way because that was what he actually wanted, because he wanted to get back the old days. The thought had occasionally bugged him in the back of his mind after he had heard Lacus's words.
Staring at the ground, he went on in a low voice, "Lacus once called me Athrun Zala of ZAFT. I believed I was no longer like that in the end of the First War. But during the Second War, after rejoining ZAFT, that was exactly what I was. Just following orders, saying there is no other way and I have no choice." He took a pause before bitterly adding, "I didn't mean to return to my old self, but maybe I wanted to, deep down."
Looking back, he couldn't deny a part of him had wanted to give up thinking and deciding for himself. He had wanted someone to tell him what to fight and how to fight it, how to live his life, instead of finding the answers himself.
It was probably another reason why he had fallen into the hands of Dullindal so easily. The man's self-confidence, the air of authority he carried, had been quite appealing. Dullindal had looked like he knew what he was doing and had answers for everything. Answers for the questions Athrun had been struggling to solve, but not been able to yet.
Tired of the search for his own answers, which seemed always futile and never-ending, Athrun had not been able to resist the easy solution presented in front of him: adopting someone else's answers, letting someone tell him what to do, what was right. Despite having learned it was wrong.
It was scary and painful to live your own life, take the responsibility for your life and your decisions, and he had wanted to run away from it. Having freedom to choose wasn't easy. Sometimes, it seemed like life would be so much easier and happier if you couldn't choose anything yourself, controlled by someone else or bound by fate. Sometimes, it was very tempting to surrender your will and freedom and become a puppet so that you could be relieved of the heavy burden of shaping your life.
Furthermore, he had never really liked new things or a new way to do things in the first place. He had a tendency to stick with the familiar, and it had gotten the best of him. What he had had to do was trying to carve out his own path to the future instead of trying to return to the old, familiar path, to create a new life for himself instead of trying to get back his old life. But he had not been able to realize it until it became almost too late.
And that might be why he had not told Meer to stop pretending to be Lacus, had not told her that he and Lacus were no longer engaged even when he became quite bothered by her acting like his fiancée.
He had been suspecting that the part of him which had wanted to return to his old self also wanted a fiancée, not a lover. Someone other people had chosen for him to have a life with, not someone he himself had chosen. Someone he was bound to and someone who was bound to him, by something other than their feelings. Someone he didn't love, someone who didn't stir his emotions, someone who didn't make him achingly jealous. Someone he didn't have to be scared at the thought of losing. Someone he could have a distant, but peaceful relationship with, like the one he had had with Lacus. Being with someone like that was a lot easier—less painful—than being with someone you loved, and maybe he had wanted someone to play the role of his fiancée.
If only he had not been so foolish and selfish, if only he had not had such an impossible desire to get back the past, if only he had realized his mistakes earlier, then maybe he could have convinced Meer that she shouldn't keep impersonating Lacus. Maybe he could have saved her life...
"Hey." A voice and a hand patting his cheek brought him out of his reminiscence. Cagalli was now standing right in front of him, looking at him with a caring expression. Keeping her left hand on his face, she circled her right arm around his body.
"You always beat yourself up," she softly chided. "It's not just you and Lacus who want to get back the past. Sometimes I do, too. Everyone does." She gently stroked his back, her eyes warm. "You realized your mistake and corrected it. You tried to save that girl, too. You should give yourself credit for at least that."
His eyes and body softened at hearing her simple, warm words. Needing to feel more of her warmth, he drew her closer, and found it a little awkward that they could be this intimate in a public place. A part of his mind was unnecessarily cautious, trying to watch out for any audience, not just suspicious ones.
He held her hand on his cheek and touched the ring on it, which reminded him of another ring he had given her, another mistake of his.
The ring with a red gem was another reminder that he had tried to choose the easy way instead of facing a difficult situation. His dissatisfaction with her apparent lack of need for him had made him quite anxious about her leaving him, and wanting to chain her to him even if it meant pushing her to abandon Orb, abandon what she passionately cared about. Even if it meant denying her will and ignoring her wishes. Even if it meant turning her into a different person.
It had not been the way to solve the problem, but it had been much easier especially when he wasn't aware of the sources of his problem: his insecurity, his fear, and his misbelief that trying to control someone was love. And he had nearly ruined their relationship, their future, and his happiness.
What he had wanted from Cagalli at that time and what he had wanted from Dullindal or Meer were probably the same. He had wanted them to relieve him of the worry about tomorrow. He had wanted a clear picture of the future instead of an uncertain possibility. He had wanted something easy to understand, a black-and-white world instead of the reality full of gray things.
After all, it was what he had been used to. The life controlled by his father. The future his father had planned for him. The world where everything was categorized as either right or wrong, which he had learned through his father's teachings. Even after his father's death, he had been haunted by the ghost of his old life. To the extent that the longing for the past, the discomfort and dissatisfaction with the present, and the fear of the future caused him to nearly kill his future, the tomorrow he wanted.
It was one of his bitterest memories, and he disliked the things that reminded him of it, whether visiting Meer's grave or the ring with a red gem. Partly because it made him afraid that he would make the same mistake again someday.
He actually had asked Cagalli to give the ring back to him several times, wanting to dispose of it. But she had refused, saying it was still important to her even if he didn't like it and she wouldn't let him throw it away. He had been wondering how to change her mind.
However, now he thought she was right. Probably he shouldn't throw away the ring, even if it represented his past mistake.
Feeling more relaxed and contented, he kissed the emerald on the ring on her finger. She had been wearing it in public for about three months, yet he still felt like it was too good to be true that they were now officially engaged. Every time he looked at the ring on her hand, he couldn't help but wonder whether it was indeed happening for real, whether the future they both had been dreaming of and fighting for was really coming true. Probably he could stop feeling like that after the wedding, hopefully.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
She arched her eyebrows. "For what?"
"For being here with me now."
"Well, where else would I be?"
"At the cabinet meeting?" he suggested.
She shrugged. "Nah. I'd rather be with you than those hardheads. Your head is at least as cute as it's hard."
He made a face. "I don't like being called cute."
She grinned. "I know."
He lightly pinched her nose. She slapped off his hand. "Hey!"
He flashed her a smirk and quickly backed down, knowing too well that she would try to get back at him.
Dodging her hand reached out in an attempt to grab his collar, he started to stride off. "We better go now."
"Don't run away!" she yelled, scurrying after him.
"I'm not. I just don't want to make Kira and Lacus wait. Do you?"
After glancing at her watch, she begrudgingly stopped trying to settle the score, though she looked away from him in an exaggerated manner while walking next to him.
He just smiled and seized her hand, which he knew she wouldn't resist, and she didn't.
As they walked down to the entrance of the cemetery hand in hand, he felt better, appreciating again the fact that she was with him and the happiness that came from it.
Even if he had accepted Dullindal's answer for who was the enemy, even if he had accepted Dullindal's answer for what was right, he could have never accepted Dullindal's answer for what was his happiness. No matter how right Dullindal had sounded, Athrun had not been able to ignore what his heart was telling him: his happiness wasn't in the world Dullindal was going to create.
He might have been more needed on Dullindal's side. He might have gotten more recognized and praised by filling the role Dullindal had given him. He might have been able to live without worries and fear if he had kept following Dullindal.
In the end, however, it had not been what he wanted most. It had not been what his heart wanted. It had not been what he needed in order to be happy.
He had not wanted just any power; what he had wanted most was the power to protect his loved ones. He had not wanted to do just anything; what he had wanted to do most was protecting them. The life he had wanted most was the one with them. The people he had wanted to be with most weren't those who needed him but those he loved.
He couldn't be happy by just being needed and useful, being expected and asked to do something and meeting the expectations. Although he had a strong desire to do the right thing, it couldn't satisfy him if it caused him to abandon his loved ones. Words of praise and admiration meant nothing to him if he received them in return for hurting or even killing the people important to him. He had learned it the hard way during the First Bloody Valentine War. It was the line he wouldn't cross again. It was the one mistake he could say he would never repeat.
He had known his happiness was with Cagalli, with his loved ones, and he couldn't give them up. He had been sure of at least that even if he hadn't about what was the right thing. He had known that freedom from responsibility or fear wasn't worth it if at the cost of his happiness. That he could never be happy if he abandoned his will and wishes and became a mindless puppet.
He would never be able to forget what Cagalli had taught him in the First Bloody Valentine War. He would never be able to abandon his heart, which he had almost killed once but she had saved. He would never be able to put out the fire she had stirred up inside him. The desire to live. The desire to fight. The desire for tomorrow. The desire for happiness. The desire for her.
The fire had urged him to defect, to protect his life and happiness. And he was glad from the bottom of his heart that he had made the decision even if some, or many, people considered his action inappropriate or even wrong. That he had found his own answer, his own way, and followed it. It was the choice he knew he would make again if he could actually go back in time. He would still choose the same path as he was now walking, leaving his old life behind.
It had not been in any sense an easy path and it wouldn't be, but it was the path to his happiness. Walking down this path was his happiness, because this was where what his heart wanted most was, where the person he loved most and wanted to protect most was.
Yes, making decisions on your own was tough. But he couldn't have this happiness if he hadn't. He couldn't be with Cagalli if he himself had not chosen which path he would walk, if he had kept following the paths other people had decided for him to. No matter how painful living your own life was, it was still worth it. This happiness, the feelings she gave him, was the proof.
That wasn't to say he would never repeat the mistakes, though. The fear might be going to always linger in his mind, and it was legitimate. You could never erase the possibility of making a mistake as long as you had freedom to choose your own way. If he kept remembering and facing his past mistakes, however, he could learn from them and hopefully avoid making the same mistake again, or realize his mistake and correct it before it was too late at least.
With the thought in his mind, he felt he was truly able to leave his past to rest now. He could believe more strongly that he was ready to move on to the next chapter of his life, to the future.
Cagalli and he had visited other graves before Meer's including those of his parents, and he had felt calm there, not hurt, not bitter. There were still feelings of sadness and regret in him, but they had diminished in time, and he was sure they would continue fading. His regrets over Meer would, too, now that he had faced and dealt with it.
It didn't mean he would forget them. They were all a part of him, both happy memories and hurtful memories of them. He simply accepted that they belonged to the past, and he couldn't change what had already past. And he wouldn't live the present for the sake of the past. He would cherish his past for the sake of his present, and future.
Meer Campbell. It was the name of their fault.
Emotion – this sky is surely the shape of my dream
This excited heartbeat is echoing
Emotion – what I want to softly lay over it is your dream
Quietly closing my eyes, I embrace it
Sitting at the garden table and listening to her daughter's singing voice, Lacus smiled. Today was scheduled to be warm and sunny all day, and her daughter had decided to give a little performance under the blue sky while they were waiting for the guests.
This was such a pleasant moment. She truly enjoyed the time she spent with her family.
She had just finished a PLANT tour last week, and they had been having some family time since, in one of their residences which was in PLANT. Even though she still worked as a singer and an advocate of peace and occasionally acted as a mediator between PLANT and other countries or between Coordinators and Naturals, she could spend much of her time with her family after resigning as Chairwoman of PLANT more than a decade ago.
Her life was hardly that of an ordinary woman, but it was peaceful enough, and she loved it.
Her daughter finished singing and patted the purple Haro the girl was holding, which stopped playing music as the response. Her husband had converted it so that it could function as a music player, mostly because he had been touched by his daughter's words that she loved it because its color was similar to his eyes.
"How was it?" her daughter asked a little nervously but expectantly.
"It was very well. I can see you have been practicing hard."
Her daughter had a relieved smile which quickly turned into a frown. "Do you really mean it? You are not giving me the my-kid-does-everything-perfectly kind of comment like Father, are you?"
Lacus let out an amused laugh. "Do not worry, darling. I am always honest with you. Your singing has truly improved."
Her daughter's face lit up. "Really?" The girl added with mischief, "Then am I as good as the Lacus Clyne?"
She laughed again. "I am afraid not."
Her daughter wore a satisfied look. "So you are really being honest."
After happily giving her an embrace, her daughter patted the Haro again. It started playing the same music. "Mother, sing with me this time!" Her daughter grabbed her arm excitedly.
She affectionately brushed her daughter's dark hair away from her cheek, and took the small hand in hers. They started to sing together.
Reaching the last part of the song, she caught sight of the three people crossing the garden in their direction. As they finished singing, she smiled at her daughter and rose to her feet. "They have arrived."
Turning around, her daughter waved her arm and ran toward them. Her niece also quickened her pace to meet the older girl half way. The two girls hugged each other with cheery greetings.
Lacus stopped at their side and gave a warm greeting to her niece, then turned curious eyes to her nephew, who had a sullen face. His father seemed to be dragging the unwilling boy.
The father and son reached where she and the girls were, and the blue-haired man put on an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry we are late."
"It is all right, Athrun." She smiled at him and then at his son. "How are you? You do not look very fine."
"Hello, Aunt Lacus," the boy muttered without looking at her or answering her question.
She tilted her head, but before she asked any more questions, the boy's sister chipped in, "He was just being a baby again." The girl sent her brother an accusing glare. "And that's why we were late."
"I was not being a baby!" the boy shouted with a reddening face.
"Yes, you were!"
"I wasn't! I just—"
"Enough." Athrun shot a chastising look at his children, releasing an exasperated sigh.
"But, Father!" his son protested.
"I said, enough." He lowered his voice, appearing ready to give a long lecture.
Lacus touched her daughter's shoulder and whispered, "Why don't you go and play with your cousins?"
Nodding at her with a knowing smile, her daughter poked Athrun's arm and cast a pleading look at him. "Uncle Athrun, can we go now, please? I planned a lot of things we are going to do today."
He blinked at his niece. "Ah...sure. Behave yourselves, understood?" He directed the latter part at his children, who nodded with pouty faces.
With the purple Haro in tow, the girls ran toward the rug laid out near a small pond, where her daughter had placed various toys—or more like had made her brother place them before he went out with his father to run some errands—and let other Haros play. The boy also followed them though he still didn't seem eager to play, probably deciding it was better than staying to hear his father's lecture.
The remaining two took their seats at the table, and Lacus asked, "So what happened?"
"Well, it's that tendency of his to be particular about plans. He has these new shoes he loves, and was planning to show them to you. However, he spilled juice on them a little before the shuttle landed."
"He must have been quite upset," she said sympathetically.
"You have no idea." Athrun shook his head. "He shut himself up in the bathroom and refused to come out even after the landing."
"Oh, my."
"And you know my daughter. She was being impatient and started screaming at him. They were screaming at each other through the bathroom door." He sighed, adding, "At least, it was a chartered shuttle and there weren't much audience, fortunately."
She gave a little giggle. She could clearly picture the scene in her mind. "Then, did she succeed in changing his mind?"
He smiled wryly. "No. I had to literally drag him out of there and throw him into the car."
"Ah, stubborn as always, I see." She smiled fondly.
His lips twitched with amusement. "Yes. Just like his mother."
"Hmm." She tilted her head teasingly. "It is funny I happen to remember your wife mentioned he was just like his father."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Everyone knows which of us is right."
She giggled without making a comment on the matter. "Speaking of her, she is coming tomorrow, is she not?"
"Yes. She was very sorry her job delayed her."
"We are sorry, too. But we understand."
He gave her a smile before picking up a teacup, which her maid had placed during their conversation, and taking a sip.
"By the way, what was the song you two were singing earlier?" He wore a thoughtful expression. "It somehow sounded familiar, but it wasn't your song, was it?"
"It was Meer-san's song."
He abruptly turned his face to her.
She smiled at him, not cheerfully but calmly. "You heard it when we were reading her diary. The song was attached to it and I played it."
He nodded. "I...remember it now."
"My daughter overheard me humming it one day, and it is her current favorite," she explained.
"I see..."
Silence fell between them, though it wasn't uncomfortable or heavy.
As she sipped her cup of tea, Meer's song played in her mind.
This true melody is dedicated to you
In a quiet night, I perform it before a mirror
And it makes me sad I'm so much like you
The song which was nearly the opposite of hers, but performed by the voice almost identical to hers. So different and so similar. Like Meer had been to Lacus.
Meer had wanted distinction and fame quite badly. Maybe as badly as Lacus had wanted freedom and quiet.
In a way, they had been the opposite. Meer had wanted to be somebody while Lacus had wanted to be nobody.
And yet, in another way, they had been alike. Meer had chosen to throw away her real name to get what she wanted; Lacus had chosen to throw away her identity as Lacus Clyne the Songstress of Peace to get what she wanted.
Neither of them had really understood that you couldn't throw away a part of you. That you could never be completely free from your past. Your past was always there, haunting you. It stayed with you, inside you, as a part of who you were. Because your past had made you who you were now. As much as you couldn't get it back, you couldn't abandon it, either. Who you had been was always a part of you while it wasn't exactly who you were right now. You needed to accept both your past and the fact that it had already past in order to live in the present and build a happy future.
They both had made mistakes, and been responsible for what happened during the Second Bloody Valentine War in different ways. And they both had made amends. Meer had saved Lacus's life, at the cost of her own; Lacus had served PLANT and fulfilled her duties, taking part in rebuilding the peaceful world both she herself and Meer had dreamed—
"FATHER!" A shriek pierced through the silence, and the ears, snapping the two adults back to reality.
They looked up to find the siblings fighting—this time, physically—while their cousin was trying to stop them. The younger Athha was clearly losing, his hair being pulled by his sister, and screaming for help.
"Oh, dear." Lacus touched her cheek with her hand.
Massaging his temple, Athrun stood up. "Excuse me."
She stood up as well to follow the hurrying father in a slower pace, supposing there would probably be a need for her mediation.
Although at least the next half hour didn't seem to be going to be so peaceful, a small smile was gracing her lips. This commotion was still a part of the happiness. She was sure Athrun would agree, though probably with a reluctant sigh.
As she looked at the man who was trying to separate his children, with Haros chattering and jumping around them, she felt wonderment. Athrun, herself, and their children enjoying their vacation in the garden of her house. It was exactly the future their parents and many other people had expected them to have when they were young and engaged. An image of the successful marriage between a genetically matched couple. The ideal. They had been the couple who was the symbol of happiness under the marriage regulation law, and probably under the Destiny Plan as well. A symbol of the future of PLANT and Coordinators.
Yet, the scene in front of her eyes was so different from what those people must have imagined. Although Athrun and she loved each other, it was only as friends, and family, not as lovers or spouses. They were married to different partners; their children had not been born between them.
Athrun's frowning face appeared somewhat similar to the face the blue-haired boy in her memories had worn when visiting her house and being bothered by Haros. But he looked contented now—despite having a hard time with his children—which seemed quite different from the boy.
And she felt much closer to the man who was her friend than she had to the boy who was her fiancé, not just because they had spent a long time together since then. In those days, he had not opened up to her even as a friend, nor had she to him. They both had put on a mask, reluctant to let the other in. They had been quite distant, though that was why the time they had shared as a betrothed pair was so peaceful.
They probably could have had a peaceful life which was satisfying enough had they gotten married. However, she didn't think they could have become nearly as happy as they were now with their spouses and children.
Whatever it was about, you were the one to make the choice: accepting what other people had decided for you or pursuing your own goal. There was no one right answer for everyone; there was no one who could make the choice for you. Because the answer to what was your happiness, what you needed in order to be happy, was different for everyone and you were the only one who knew your answer. You should not try to tell anyone their answer or let someone else tell you your answer. You should not let anyone speak for your own heart; your feelings, your wishes, and your dreams belonged to only you.
Both Athrun and she—as well as their spouses, friends, and comrades—had chosen to follow their own paths, in the hope of reaching the tomorrow they wished for, and those paths had brought them to their current happiness. Their happiness was what they had chosen and earned, worked and fought for, not what they had been given, and it was partly why they were this happy.
At the same time, however, they could enjoy this happiness because of the sacrifices of the past. Not only the sacrifices they themselves had made, but also those other people had.
"Please don't forget...my songs...my life..." A voice echoed in her head.
She quietly whispered, "I will not."
She wouldn't forget Meer's existence. What the girl had done and what had happened to the girl. The girl's desires, wishes, dreams, achievements, mistakes, and flaws.
She wouldn't forget the girl who had taught her how important the name of Lacus Clyne could be to some people, the degree of her influence and the graveness of her responsibility.
Everything in the present and in the future was because of what had happened in the past. What she had done wrong, what she had done right, her regrets, her achievements, her mistakes. And those of other people. She had to keep it in mind. It was her obligation as the one who was still alive.
And she appreciated everything in the past with all her heart.
Meer Campbell. It was the name of the person they should not forget. The person who had died because of their past.
The End
A/N: While I was writing Lacus's part, one of the director's comments kept coming back to me. Talking about the voice actresses, he said something like, "You can't act as Lacus unless you can act as Fllay. You need to be able to act like there is darkness inside in order to act as Lacus." And I've always felt Lacus has a side which is kind of scary even before coming across the comment. I'm satisfied I could finally explore it.
As for Athrun's part, almost everyone can agree that he is one of the GS/GSD characters most likely to be a prisoner of the past, right? Well, you may still have confused about his sentiments on the ring he gave Cagalli in GSD. If so, you can read "The Ring" in which I explained my view on it.
My opinion on Athrun and Lacus's relationship is that it's been at its best after their engagement was canceled mostly because it seems to me to work best when they are friends and both of them have someone else they love. Although I don't say it's impossible for them to be happy together, I rather doubt they could have ever established a relationship as deep and close as the ones they can with Cagalli and Kira respectively.
···
The Meer's song used in the last part is "EMOTION" which was introduced in GSD episode 46 (in the remastered version).
You may also have recognized the first phrases of the summary: "What you can't get back. That's the past." It's actually Rey's line during the final battle of GSD.
Thank you for reading. And if you wrote a review of my previous fics, I thank you for that, too.
*edited 10/19/17*