A/N: This is a bit AU-ish, inconsistent with the series (and my other fics).
WARNING: This fic contains Athrun x Cagalli, Athrun x Meyrin, and Cagalli x OC.
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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.
Missing Piece
"Are you all right, Athrun-san?"
Hearing his girlfriend's voice, Athrun looked up from the book he had not been really reading.
"I mean...you look like you're feeling down. So I wondered if there's something wrong at work, or something like that?" Meyrin explained. She appeared to have come out of his kitchen after washing the dishes and found him lost in thought.
He gently smiled at her. "Nothing is wrong. Don't worry. I'm all right."
Actually, she had guessed it right. He had been thinking about a trouble in the workplace: one of his co-workers was acting unfriendly toward him and it was causing some delay in the project they were both taking part in. But he didn't want to trouble her with his problems. He shouldn't be such a weak man who made his girlfriend, whom he was supposed to protect and look after, worried or upset because of his problem. Especially a soft, meek girlfriend like his. Besides, he didn't think his current situation was worth mentioning anyway. The problem would probably go away if he just waited patiently as usual.
She looked down with a frown, then glanced at him as if wanting to say something more. But she didn't say anything, and he looked back at the book in his hands and tried to concentrate on reading it. He wasn't the type to pry. Plus, if she didn't feel the need to say it, then it probably wasn't a big deal.
However, it seemed like it was, since after a little while, she went on to complain and interrupt his reading, to his surprise actually. "You're always like that."
"What?" He looked at her with a blank face.
"You always say nothing's wrong." She almost sounded like she was blaming him for doing something bad.
He replied with confusion, "That's because it's true." Just because he had some troubles at work, it didn't mean there was something wrong, something he needed to tell her.
She bit her lip and looked down again.
He was about to go back to reading the book, which he needed to finish before tomorrow's work started, when she spoke again in a low voice. "But there's something wrong...with us."
He shifted his eyes from the book to her once again. "What are you talking about?"
She hesitated before saying, "You still...love her, don't you?"
"What..." He blinked at the unexpected turn of the conversation. He knew whom Meyrin was talking about, but didn't understand why she was bringing her into this.
"Why would you say that?" he asked with a frown.
She averted her eyes, pursing her lips.
After a minute of silence, he reluctantly opened his mouth. "She and I are still friends. Just because people broke up, it doesn't mean they don't care about each other anymore, you know." He felt somewhat uncomfortable. He wasn't used to talking about his feelings. He especially didn't want to talk about this. But if there was a misunderstanding, he should clear it up. "I thought you understood."
"I can understand if you wanna stay friends with her. But that's not all. You still love her as more than a friend."
Honestly, he didn't know what to reply. It was true she—Cagalli—was one of the most important people to him, more important than other friends of his, except for Kira perhaps. When feeling dejected, he often thought about her; the memories of her warmed his heart and gave him the will and strength to keep hanging on. Although it was sometimes painful for him to talk to her, or even see her or hear her voice, it was heartening to know that she was still there fighting, like an imperishable fire in the darkness.
But it was nothing wrong, was it? It wasn't like he was cheating on his girlfriend with her. He would never engage in such an immoral act. Neither would Cagalli. They didn't even see each other face-to-face often, only once in several months or less, and Meyrin was present most of the times they met, whether at work or Reverend Malchio's island or their mutual friends' houses. Not to mention Meyrin had always known about their past and present relationships; although he had never told her about it, she had mentioned she was aware of his history with Cagalli even before they had started dating. It wasn't like anything had changed between him and Cagalli since then.
Why did Meyrin have to worry or complain about Cagalli? He had broken up with her and was dating Meyrin now. It was simply irrational.
"But you are my girlfriend, not she. What's the problem?" After a pause, he asked with a deepened frown, "Are you suggesting I should cut off all contacts with her? You know I can't do it. She is my friend as I told you. You are friends with her, too. I thought you liked her."
"I do," Meyrin said bitterly. "She's a good person. Kind and generous and selfless. Working hard for her country and the peace."
"She is," he agreed. "Then why are you having a problem with my relationship with her?"
She didn't answer, and after several moments, he moved his eyes back to the book, stifling a sigh. He would prefer it if she clearly said she had gotten his point instead of silently admitting it. Well, it wasn't a big problem, though. He was fine as long as she stopped worrying and complaining unnecessarily.
A few peaceful minutes passed. Then, she suddenly shouted, "Because you still love her!"
It caused him to look up with surprise. He found her staring at him almost desperately.
"You...you still love her more than me. More than anyone. I'm your girlfriend, yes, but am I really part of your life? I feel like an outsider. You never let me in your life—in your heart."
He stared at her who was breathing hard. He didn't know how to respond. She had never acted like this before. It felt to him like she had suddenly turned into a different person, which made him uncomfortable.
He admitted that he had never felt for Meyrin what he had had—or still had—for Cagalli. But wasn't it just natural? The two women were quite different. His relationships with them were different, too. Then his feelings for them were supposed to be different, weren't they?
Not to mention he didn't want the feelings or the relationships to be the same. If he wanted to have with Meyrin the same thing he had had with Cagalli, why would he date Meyrin instead of Cagalli, or at least someone more like Cagalli, in the first place? It wasn't what he wanted from his relationship with Meyrin.
He himself didn't really have a problem with the relationship. It was easy to be with Meyrin. She usually let him do as he pleased. She hardly complained about his busy schedule; she left him alone when he needed some time by himself, which wasn't rare. She had never tried to meddle in his affairs or argue with him until now, and what she had asked of him, like a gift or a date, was mostly easy to give. He had been able to have a quiet, peaceful life with her, which he wanted.
She was also very eager to help him: cleaning up his room, doing his laundry, preparing his meals, and taking care of other chores and errands. Not that he couldn't do them himself. He was used to taking care of himself, and could handle those stuff quite fine without her. But he appreciated her willingness to help, her effort to fill her role as a girlfriend, and he duly repaid her by giving things girls liked or taking her to places girls liked from time to time, always treating her the way a gentleman should treat his girlfriend.
He had been trying to be a proper boyfriend. He even slept with her though he didn't really want to. Well, he didn't dislike having sex, but he didn't find it as good as everyone made it seem. He was fine with not doing it. Not that he revealed it to anyone; he was aware it wasn't how a man should feel.
It was about half a year after they had started dating that she had brought up the matter for the first time. Or more like had implied. He had not been able to understand what she was talking about; her sister had explained to him later what his girlfriend was wishing to have.
He had not wanted to sleep together before marriage—which he had been taught was inappropriate—and told her so. However, Meyrin had kept insinuating; Lunamaria had kept pushing him. And he had given in eventually, thinking that if it was what a normal couple was supposed to do as the sisters said and his girlfriend wanted it, he probably had to give it to her; it was his duty as her boyfriend to please her.
It had also been partly because of his guilt. He always felt he was indebted to Meyrin. She had had to defect from ZAFT and experience unnecessary hardships because of him. She had chosen to stay in Orb instead of going back to PLANT after the war and then, when he had left the military and started a new job in Morgenrote, she had followed suit. She had admitted later that it was all because of him, and he felt bad that he had caused her to wander from one place to another meaninglessly. Of course it wasn't that he had asked her to follow him, but he still felt responsible for her situation. He felt obligated to compensate for it, and wanted her to be satisfied with their relationship at least.
He wasn't sure she enjoyed sex any more than he did or he did it right. But she appeared happy for a while after they did it, which made him feel relieved, and seemed to like it enough to urge him into sleeping with her again though indirectly. Although he felt a different kind of guilt—and emptiness—after having sex, at least he could say he was doing what he should do and it consoled him enough.
He thought he had been filling his role as a boyfriend well enough, properly looking after her and paying his debt. However, she didn't seem to agree.
A torrent of words was coming out of her mouth as if a dam inside her had broken. "Everyone says I'm lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend. Gorgeous and having a good job and excellent at work and a gentleman. And I don't deny it. It's not like you treat me bad or anything. You're always kind and gentle. But...it's just—it feels so—so distant..." she said beseechingly.
"Meyrin, can you be more specific? What do you want from me?" he asked with a frustrated sigh. Her words were so incoherent, and they were wasting time which he could spend reading the book and preparing for work instead of having this seemingly pointless conversation.
One of the things about her he didn't like was that she tended to say things in a vague, roundabout way, and become disappointed when he didn't get the hint. He often wished she were more straightforward—like Cagalli. It would be much more efficient and timesaving if she outright said exactly what she expected of him. It wasn't like he was unwilling to correct his behavior if there was anything inappropriate about it.
She looked at him with a seemingly hopeless face, which he couldn't understand at all.
He patiently waited for her response, and after several minutes, she said tiredly with a lowered gaze, "I wanna break up."
He widened his eyes. He had no idea how their conversation had led to this. The new subject seemed to have come from out of the blue. Then again, this entire conversation seemed to have just appeared from nowhere.
"I can't do this anymore. I can't bear anymore watching you thinking about her when I'm right next to you. I thought...I thought it'd change eventually. If I became an ideal girlfriend."
She took a shaky breath before saying in a pained voice, "But you never loved me." It wasn't a question.
"I...care about you." He forced the words out of his mouth. Even if he didn't feel comfortable saying it, he had to comfort her, take care of her. It was his duty.
Although his words sounded a little awkward, it wasn't a lie.
"I know," she replied in a bitter and weary voice. "You always did. Even during the Second War. But it's different." She forced a smile, her lips shaking. "Maybe I'm asking too much. Maybe I'm too impatient. But I can't keep doing this anymore, Athrun-san. I can't just keep waiting, especially when I see no hope. It's killing me."
Turning her face away from him, she continued as if talking to herself, "I knew you agreed to date me just because of guilt or gratitude...or maybe pity? I don't know. I just knew it wasn't love, and yes, I said it was all right if you didn't love me. But I hoped..." Her voice trailed off.
He stared at her, recalling the beginning of their relationship. It had not been easy for him after breaking up with Cagalli. He had suffered from the feeling of loneliness, of loss.
But Meyrin had been around to distract him, and after a while, asked him to be her boyfriend, to give her a chance. He had thought it might help him move on while he could pay back some of his debts to her by doing this. Not to mention she had appeared rather desperate, appeared to need him very much—unlike Cagalli.
Thus he had started dating Meyrin. It felt good to have someone to look after, someone who needed his care and protection. Although he still felt lonely now and then, it wasn't hard to ignore it as he could busy and distract himself with his work and the new relationship. The loneliness had simply become a part of his life, of him.
You didn't need to passionately love someone to be in a relationship with that person, right? It wasn't wrong to do it because of other feelings, like gratitude or loneliness. It wasn't like he had lied to Meyrin, and even if he didn't love her, he cared about her and liked her. He had been doing what he should do and what he could do for her.
Shouldn't it be enough? They had had a good, peaceful relationship after all. She herself had admitted that everyone said he was doing well as a boyfriend. Then she should be satisfied, shouldn't she? Why did she want more, especially despite having said otherwise? Why did she suddenly go back on her word and want to break up with him?
She continued, "I guess I was just being wishful. Deluding myself I could change you. But you never looked at me the way I want you to...the way you always look at her." Lowering her voice even further, she added, "Sometimes I can't help but think...maybe you never actually saw me even."
He kept his mouth shut. He didn't even know exactly what she was talking about, let alone the right response.
Exhaling a long sigh, she looked back at him, tears in her eyes, which made him feel bad—guilty. He felt he had to do something, but he didn't know what he should do, what his fault was.
"I'm sorry. But I can't be happy with you. And I don't think you can be happy with me, either."
He automatically returned, "I'm not unhappy with you." At least that was what he knew and could say.
"Then can you say you're happy now?"
"I...think so," he said a little hesitantly.
His co-workers often said he must be happy to have a pretty and dutiful girlfriend who always put him first; his job was also a good one, challenging and stable with good salaries. Without any real troubles or burdens, his life seemed to be a happy one, indeed.
Only he didn't really feel so. Looking around him, he regularly felt his world was so dull, almost empty. He didn't think it had always been like that. It felt as if something was missing, something that had been once here, something important. But he didn't know what.
Yet, it didn't mean he wasn't happy. Right?
Meyrin let out a tired, humorless laugh. "Of course you do. You think you're happy when you don't feel happy."
He knitted his eyebrows with confusion. But she didn't seem willing to elaborate.
"You know what? Cagalli-san once said, you can be quite childish even though you appear mature. I think I understand it now."
Despite his guilt and discomfort, he felt irritated that Meyrin kept dragging Cagalli into their conversation. She really should keep Cagalli out of this, leave her alone. He didn't say it, though. He didn't want to hurt Meyrin's feelings and make her even more upset. Plus, he suspected it would only cause her to talk more about Cagalli, which he didn't like. Not in front of him. Not about him and Cagalli. He wanted no one to do it.
Neither he nor Meyrin said anything while she collected her belongings. Before leaving his room, she looked at him as if expecting him to say or do something. But he didn't know what she expected, what she wanted from him, what was the right response, and so stayed silent and still.
She sadly looked down, quietly said goodbye, and left.
As soon as the door closed and hid her figure from his sight, he released a deep sigh and sank into the sofa.
Reluctantly, he thought that at least part of what she had said might be true: he had not really been a good boyfriend. He knew he was supposed to be feeling hurt and distressed after breaking up with his girlfriend.
But he wasn't, he had to admit. He was mostly confused and weary, and somewhat feeling lonely and guilty. A part of him was actually relieved that he didn't have to deal with those confusing words of hers anymore. He still couldn't understand most of them.
He didn't feel like chasing after her and asking, though. What was the point anyway? She had at least made it clear that she wanted to end their relationship. Then, he should let her. If that was what she wanted. If she didn't need him or want him anymore.
And honestly, he wasn't eager to go talk to her even if he should. He would just have to hear what he couldn't understand again, get accused of not making her happy, of failing to meet her expectations. He had no idea how to fix the problem, and he couldn't find the motivation to try. It seemed like too much trouble for nothing. It was probably better for the both of them to just end the matter here.
Sighing again, he picked up the book he had unconsciously put on the sofa during the conversation with his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend. No matter what happened in his private life, the work wouldn't wait and he had a book to finish.
Actually, reading seemed like nothing but a good idea right now. It could distract him, and he could expect at least this to be peaceful and understandable.
He lifted his hand to knock the door. But it stopped before making a contact, and he stared at the very familiar door of Cagalli's study. Once he knocked and entered, there was no turning back.
A part of him was feeling like making up an excuse and leaving; another part wanted to get in the room so that he could talk with her alone.
After all, this was their first time to meet in private since he had come back from space. He had gotten to see her and exchange a few words with her during the ceremony to welcome the Orb forces that had fought in the final battle of the war and confer the decorations to some of the soldiers including him. But it had been an official meeting, and even when they could talk more unofficially along with their friends, both of them had kept their conversation casual and light, putting off the unavoidable.
Until today.
A few days ago, she had asked him via e-mail to come to her home to talk, and he had agreed.
Yes, he had agreed. And he should stick to his word. It was the right thing to do.
Telling himself so, he finally knocked. "Come in." Her voice came after a few heartbeats and he opened the door.
"Thanks for coming." Standing up from her chair, Cagalli gave him a little tense smile. He forced his own.
As he walked across the room toward her desk, she came around it. He stopped in front of her, two steps away, farther than usual. He wanted to be close—closer—to her, but it didn't seem to him to be appropriate to go nearer, considering what they were going to talk about.
She silently gazed at him, examining his appearance. He did the same with her. She looked tired; she appeared to have become somewhat paler and thinner during the months he had spent away from her. Not that it was surprising. Even though the war had ended, she was still fighting a different kind of battle, which she was probably going to fight always—even if he wasn't at her side.
He had already known it, but knowing it didn't take away the pain from the thought. She didn't need him. Not really. Not as much as he wanted her to. Not in the way he wanted her to.
His gaze wandered toward her empty finger. His heart constricted. Even though he had seen it several times already, the sight was still painful and he had to force his eyes back to her face.
She was checking his body as if trying to make sure, again, that he had no injuries. Her expression softened into relief, then hardened into determination, which caused his body to tighten. He dreaded the expression, yet somehow couldn't take his eyes off her face.
She turned her eyes to his face.
"I should've talked with you about this earlier...before I took off the ring." She got straight to the point, and he felt half glad, half bitter. As much as he didn't want to talk about irrelevant stuff when they both knew what was coming, he didn't want this time to end so soon.
"I know I hurt you. I'm sorry," she said with sincerity.
He just shook his head no. He understood why she had not talked to him, and he didn't blame her for it. He knew she was as sad about this as he was. Or at least sad enough to need some time to prepare herself for the talk. Sad enough to be afraid that this talk would disturb her and interfere with properly carrying out her duties and to want to wait until the situation became relatively calm. He knew it.
Yet, he didn't feel like saying it was all right, either. He couldn't feel it was all right. Not exactly about her having taken off his ring. It was much more than that. This was about much more than a ring. This was never about the ring.
"It's not like I don't want to be with you anymore. I..." She took a long breath. "I still do." She continued in a sad, yet steady voice, "But I can't abandon Orb for you. I can't choose you over Orb—as you want me to."
He had known her answer, but hearing it still hurt. More than hearing about her wedding had. With Jona, he had at least known she loved him more than the man and would choose him if she could have her way. Even though he had hated the fact she was engaged to someone else, he had never really felt threatened by the man.
It was Orb that had threatened him. It had always been about Orb. The country was the reason why she had accepted the engagement in the first place. It was the reason why she had agreed to actually marry that man. And it was the reason why she was breaking up with him now.
This was a completely different matter from the wedding. No one was forcing her. No one was threatening her. No one was manipulating her. She had the freedom to choose, and still wouldn't choose him. She wouldn't choose him because she was free to choose what she wanted.
And it was what he had been afraid of.
"I want to be with you, too," he slowly said. "But...I can't." I can't accept Orb always comes first for you. He couldn't accept she put Orb before him.
He didn't elaborate, but she seemed to understand what he had left unsaid. His keen eyes didn't miss the flash of pain that crossed her face.
A part of him hoped the pain would make her ask him to change his mind, or even beg him to stay with her. Even though he knew it wouldn't happen.
She wouldn't say it, say what he wanted her to say. As she hadn't when he left for PLANT before the war, which was the final factor for his decision to give her the ring. As she hadn't when they met on the cliff in the middle of the war even though she looked almost desperate enough. As she hadn't when the Archangel left Orb for space in the end of the war, appearing so tough and showing no sign of missing him.
He knew and admired her strength, but he couldn't help wishing she were weaker, weak enough to be unable to fight without him, weak enough to say she would do anything, give up anything, if he stayed.
But she wasn't and wouldn't be. She wouldn't be what he wanted her to be.
She wouldn't give him what he wanted.
Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, exhaled a long breath and took another, the way she did when trying to calm herself, then said, "I understand."
Her face and voice were colored with melancholy and loneliness, but there was no surprise, or disappointment. It seemed like she had known his answer and already come to terms with it before actually hearing it.
Her eyes looking at him were accepting as always, which made him half relieved and half unsettled. The feelings she had been stirring inside him were so conflicting and he couldn't really figure out what he was feeling right now. Not that he tried hard. He was rather trying not to feel them, bury them deep. He had never liked being emotional, feeling emotions.
"Then, I believe I should return this to you."
She turned her body to grab a small box on her desk, which he had been trying not to look at: a ring case. She took a step toward him and held it out to him.
What was in the box was a representation of his vain hope that she might choose him over Orb.
Probably, he had always known deep down that the hope of his was vain. After all, he had seen at first hand how much she loved Orb. For about two years, he had been by her side, closer to her than anyone else, watching her devote herself to her work, to protecting Orb. Which he had not been happy about. As much as he understood the importance of her job, it frustrated him that she always placed Orb before him.
When she had accepted the ring, he had thought that his patient support finally bore fruit, finally reached her and succeeded to change her. That she would start to give more care to him than to Orb. It wasn't that he had expected everything to change quickly. He had just wanted her to promise that she was willing to change, to accept his wish.
Only to find out that it was a delusion. That she wouldn't do as he hoped. Again and again.
He had wanted her to choose him even if it meant breaking the engagement that she believed was necessary to protect Orb, even if it meant giving up the power she needed to protect Orb—giving up protecting Orb.
He had wanted her to follow his words even if it meant leaving the Orb forces alone to be eliminated—giving up protecting the people she wanted to protect.
He wanted her to stop for his sake instead of moving forward, leaving him behind, for Orb's sake. He wanted her to look at him. He wanted her to focus more on him, pay more attention to him, like she used to before becoming the Chief Representative. He wanted her to place him first, place him before everything else like she had when she came to prevent him from sacrificing his life at the risk of everything she had including her own life. Telling him to not die, to not go, with tears, she had seemed to desperately need him.
He wanted her to return to that, to how she had been.
Why couldn't she do it?
Why couldn't she follow his lead and let him protect her? Why couldn't she stay behind him and let him fight for her instead of fighting herself? Why couldn't she just wait for him in a safe place while he was fighting and welcome him back and praise him after the fighting? Like she had done during and after the Junius Seven incident. Despite being troubled by the matter of his father's legacy, he had felt happy, and proud.
But it had been just a fleeting moment. Once they were back in Orb, she had gone into the political battle, leaving him behind. She had chosen to go to the place where he couldn't protect her. She had not even wanted him by her side, not asked him to stay, when he told her he was going to PLANT. And she had decided to get married instead of waiting for him to come back with the power he had acquired, the power he could have used to save her from the Sarans if she had not made such rush and foolish decisions.
Then, she had refused to return to Orb, a safe place away from the war, and wait for him to end the war as he had told her to; she had chosen to keep interfering with battles for the sake of the Orb forces, keep getting in his way.
Things in their relationship seemed to always go wrong, go the way he didn't want them to go, once the matter of Orb came up. Orb always came between them, breaking them apart, because she let it. Because she put it before their relationship, before him.
They had to break up even though neither of them wanted to. All because of Orb.
They could be together. They could be happy. If she just chose him over Orb. It wasn't like she had to completely abandon Orb. She could still protect it, just not in the way she had been doing, just not the extent she had been doing. As long as she didn't let Orb interfere with their relationship, he wouldn't mind letting her work and care for the country. As long as she placed him first and Orb remained second. As long as she listened to him.
But she wouldn't see his point or correct her behavior, change her decision.
So they had no other choice. He had no other choice.
Slowly and reluctantly, hating he had to do this, he reached out for the ring case. Their hands touched, and he slightly widened his eyes at the coldness of her hand, in stark contrast to her warm eyes.
It stirred something in him and he felt like grabbing her hand and warming it with his. He felt like hugging her.
But he suppressed the urge with all his might. It wouldn't change anything anyway. It wouldn't make her change her mind. It wouldn't make her give him what he wanted. It was meaningless. It would only make this more difficult for both of them, he told himself.
Pulling his hand back, he felt even bitterer, and squeezed the ring case until his hand hurt. He didn't want to take it. He didn't want to have it. He didn't want to even look at it. It felt as if it was his broken heart that was in his hand.
He had wanted to believe that if she knew how much he loved her, she would change. But it wasn't true, the proof of which was in his hand. It wouldn't change anything how much he wanted her. It didn't matter how much he wanted her to be with him, how much he wanted her to change. His feelings didn't matter. As his actions didn't.
No matter what he did, he couldn't make her need him enough. He couldn't make her love him enough. Staying by her side and providing her with comfort hadn't. Giving her a ring hadn't. Fighting to keep her safe and restore the peace she cherished hadn't. Fighting to protect Orb and the Earth hadn't.
No matter what he did for her, it didn't matter. Nothing he did could make her do what he wanted her to do. She still didn't choose him and there was nothing he could do about it. He had no power to change her. He had no power to make her do anything, be anything.
It was the cold truth that hurt. It was the truth that he couldn't accept.
"Thank you for everything. For the ring, too," she quietly said, placing her arm down to her side.
He shifted his gaze back to her face, to her eyes, and felt uneasy. It wasn't because her eyes were shinning with tears. It was something more. He felt something had changed with her eyes. Like something had gone from them during this short time.
Like a piece of her feelings for him had disappeared.
"I'm sorry that I misunderstood you," she continued, "and that I can't accept it. Still, I was—am glad you gave it to me."
The uneasy feeling grew and grew as he heard her words and gazed at her eyes. He hoped her tears would fall on her cheeks. Then he could find an excuse to touch her, to hug her even. She was now only an arm's length away.
Then, maybe he could understand this mysterious feeling inside him, the feeling that something was missing from her eyes looking at him. Maybe he could find out what he was missing.
But she didn't let the tears fall. And he couldn't allow himself to move on his own, not when she didn't want him, not when she didn't need him.
His eyes just bored into hers as he desperately tried to figure out what it was that wasn't there.
It wasn't love. It wasn't affection. It wasn't understanding. It wasn't acceptance. It wasn't caring. It wasn't compassion. It wasn't sincerity. It wasn't kindness. There seemed to be everything he wanted from her in those amber eyes. He could see it, and knew he was right. Her eyes were always honest.
And yet, it seemed lacking. It didn't seem enough for him.
...Maybe because it wasn't. It wasn't enough that she loved him. She didn't love him enough. Maybe it was just that the knowledge was causing this weird feeling.
Her eyelids dropped, coming between his eyes and hers. For several moments, she stayed like that. Then, opening her eyes again, she looked him in the eye, which she often did. He always felt as if she could look straight into his heart, his soul, with those firm and deep eyes of hers.
"Take care of yourself, all right? And...be happy." Her eyes were still moist, but her smile was genuinely warm and caring.
He just stared. It felt so wrong. He felt like something was completely wrong, like he was making a big mistake.
He felt an urge to say something, though he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. But something was coming out of his mouth, out from deep inside him, and he had to let it out. He needed to let her know. He needed to—
A beep came from the phone on her desk. She turned around and pushed a button to speak with the person on the line.
A man's voice said, "Chief Representative, I'm sorry for interrupting, but there is something you should see."
"Okay, I'm coming." Cutting the connection, she turned an apologetic face to him. "Sorry. I have to go."
He stared at her, who looked like nothing but a strong leader dedicated to her job, which she was. Awkwardly, he nodded his head. He didn't know what else to do.
As she walked past him, he was restless, still feeling that something was wrong and that he needed to do something. A part of him desperately wanted to stop her, wanted her to wait until he figured out. Or maybe he simply didn't want her to go, despite knowing she would anyway. Despite knowing she would choose to go and handle a matter concerning Orb rather than to stay with him, stop for him.
Then, she stopped, a few steps before the door. And turned to face him—as if she had sensed his inner struggle. His heart fluttered.
She looked at him for a moment, which he felt was so long and so short. She just looked at him. Nothing more. Nothing less. As if she was taking in everything about him. As if she was cherishing everything about him.
And he just hoped this moment would never end.
But then, she gave him a gentle smile, which was a mixture of warmth and sadness, one last time.
"Goodbye, Athrun."
Turning around, she resumed walking forward, her back straight and her steps unhesitant. She didn't look back again.
His feet glued to where he was, he kept staring at her retreating back and then at the door which separated him from her, unable to say anything. He didn't even know what he had wanted to say. It had slipped away from his grasp.
As he came out of the woods, the wind tousled his hair. Walking across the beach to the edge of the sea, he inhaled the salty air.
He was visiting Reverend Malchio's island to attend Kira and Lacus's wedding party. They had gotten engaged around the time he and Meyrin had broken up, and were getting married in a few days.
Since Lacus had resigned her job several months ago and the couple wanted to make the ceremony a cozy one, they had decided to have it on the island with only people close to them. As the best man, Athrun had come to the island earlier than most guests and had been helping the couple for last few days.
He quietly exhaled a long breath before sitting on the sand. He was planning to stay here for a while, maybe until dusk. He was a little tired; the tasks that had been assigned to him were done, and there wasn't much more he could help. So he had discreetly left and come here to have some rest.
The sky was cloudy; the sea was dark. It wasn't a pleasant scenery to look at, but he liked the quiet of the beach than the festive air at the orphanage.
Not to mention he could avoid Kira's questions here. During these months after his breakup with Meyrin, Kira seemed to have been concerned about him and tried to talk with him about the breakup. But he had always dismissed Kira's concern. Partly because he didn't want to ruin the good time of his best friend; Kira seemed busy enough without getting involved with Athrun's problem. And most of all, he didn't know what to say, or even whether he wanted to talk about it, as he hadn't when he had broken up with Cagalli and Kira had tried to talk with him about it as well.
Probably Kira would eventually cease asking this time as he had before if he kept dodging the question, Athrun hoped. It probably would be best for both of them.
Hearing casual footsteps, he turned his head to find Cagalli walking toward him.
He felt something stir inside him at the sight of her. He couldn't figure out what it was, but knew that it wasn't a surprise and that the feeling wasn't unpleasant. Nor her presence here.
He quietly regarded her as she walked over the beach. They had not talked much since she had arrived at the island this morning. Or since long before.
Although they occasionally saw each other, it was usually brief. And they had not really seen each other for some time, more than half a year. She had been busy partly because of Lacus's resignation and of her brother and best friend's wedding, of which she was the maid of honor.
Furthermore, there had been an assassination attempt on her last month which had caused her some injuries. The news had unsettled him, reminding him of the usual thought he dwelled on: If only she had let him protect her. At least, though, her injuries had not been serious according to Kira, and she had seemed fine enough on TV, which brought him several feelings besides relief. But he had not wanted to think about those feelings and had quickly buried them deep.
Another reason why they had not had much contact recently was that he had been rather avoiding her after his breakup with Meyrin, somehow afraid of seeing her. But he didn't feel like avoiding her now. A part of him was even hoping she would stay for a while.
Maybe he had been waiting, or at least hoping, for her to come.
"Hey, we were wondering where you were," she said lightly, stopping at his side.
"Ah...I needed some air."
As she sat next to him, he looked back at the sea. After a moment, however, he shifted his eyes to her, sensing that hers were on him.
She was regarding him with a concerned face. Her intent eyes looked into his, and he instinctively gazed back into them. The amber eyes seemed to have not changed at all since the time when they had still been together, or even the time when they had just met.
He stared as if all his attention was drawn to her eyes, to her. Her eyes were so deep, so bright.
He couldn't remember the last time he looked at someone like this, straight into their eyes without feeling the slightest need or desire to avert his. He felt it was a long time ago. It might be when they had parted ways.
He felt his body become somewhat lighter. There was something about her eyes, or just her, that made him relax.
After a moment of sharing a gaze, which felt like hours to him, she opened her mouth. "I heard about you and Meyrin. I'm sorry it didn't work out between you." Her voice was filled with sincerity and concern, her words simple and straight. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah..." He hesitated a little, but started talking anyway. "I just don't understand what I did wrong. Why she was dissatisfied with me. I thought we were doing fine, but suddenly she said I wasn't making her happy and broke up with me.
"And I'm all right with it if it's what she wants. But I'm still confused and...sometimes I feel a little like a failure..." The words flowed out smoothly, which wasn't usual for him. It felt good to be able to complain, reveal his vulnerability, and he realized he had not done it for a long time.
With sympathy and earnestness, she listened, and said, "Maybe you just need time. It's not easy to understand someone else's reason right away, you know. Not for anyone. Probably you can understand her better when you talk with her next time."
She touched his arm reassuringly. "Don't get too depressed, okay? It will get better. I'm sure you'll find a way to your happiness. You can do it." She smiled a warm smile, caring and worrying about him. As always.
The smile squeezed his chest. He felt like he was drawn to her, and he pulled her into a hug without thinking.
She was still for a moment, but then, circled her arms around him and accepted his hug. "There, there. It's all right. It'll be all right," she softly said, giving gentle pats to his back.
Her body was soft, yet firm, securely supporting his. She was warm and comforting in his arms.
He felt connected. He felt safe, completely safe, for the first time in years, for the first time after breaking up with her. He felt everything he had locked away—which he had not realized he had—was freed. He felt a hole inside him—which he had not known existed—was filled. He felt the coldness that had been enveloping him—which he had not been aware of—was gone.
He felt as if everything was all right.
After a while, he slowly pulled back though he didn't really want to. But he also wanted to see her face, her eyes.
She too pulled back to study his face with a worried frown, which he remembered so well.
"You really should let out your feelings more often. It's not healthy to bottle up everything inside you," she reprimanded him, just as she used to.
He gazed into her eyes. Those eyes had not changed at all: warm, accepting, clear, deep, sincere, bright, and firm. Glowing like gold, as if there was a fire burning in them, in her.
They were the eyes he had fallen in love with. This was the girl he had loved—the woman he loved.
As if on cue, the sun broke through a cloud, throwing a ray of light at them, which brightened up her hair, face, and eyes like she was in fact radiating. It was as if the sun appeared from behind dark clouds in his world as well, shinning on what he had not been able to see and lighting up his world so vividly.
He had finally found the answer. It was these feelings, this passion, she stirred in him that had been missing from his world and life. She was what he had been missing, what he had been yearning for. Someone he could feel truly connected and happy with. Someone who touched and moved his heart in the way nothing else could.
She was the light of his life, the sun of his world. He wanted her. He needed her.
He opened his mouth. He needed to tell her how he felt.
"Cagalli."
Before he said anything, however, someone else called out to her.
Her eyes shifted from him to a man coming toward them. She lifted a hand with a surprised, but happy smile, her eyes shining.
"Hey, I thought you couldn't make it until tomorrow morning," she said with some excitement. "How did you know I was here anyway?"
She stood up to take a step toward the man, leaving him behind. Then another. And another. Yet another. Until she and the man met halfway, engaging in a hug.
"Well, our capable secretary, with help from my generous boss, kicked me out of the clinic. It's another proof they love you more than they love me," the man said jokingly, then added, "So I got here early, and Lacus said, you're probably on the beach."
"Ah, remind me to return love to them later," she replied in the same manner, "and by the way, my offer still stands. I'll give you training anytime so people won't kick your ass as often. Or push you around."
"And my answer's the same. I let you be the violent one between us," the man returned in an easygoing tone, pecking her cheek.
"Don't you mean the strong one?" she said teasingly.
The man simply gave an affectionate smile, which she returned.
Then, draping an arm over her shoulder, the man looked at him and said with a polite smile, "Hello."
Without standing up or moving, Athrun had just been staring at their exchange all the while feeling like the world was crushing down on him.
Cagalli looked back at him and walked back toward him, her arm on the man's waist. "You two never met, right? This is Athrun, and this is—"
He was barely aware of her words. His attention and eyes were fixed on her face, her smile she gave the man: warm and bright. Warmer and brighter than the one she gave him.
He wanted the warmth. He wanted the brightness. He wanted the smile. He wanted her. More than anything.
But they weren't his. She wasn't his.
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