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.
My Heart, My Home
A loud banging on the door interrupted him in the middle of a sentence. Athrun turned his eyes from the computer screen, from the half-written report, and stood up, a small crease between his brows. Making sure what he had written so far was saved, he headed for the door.
The report was actually more like a journal. He had just thought his girlfriend would like to read a detailed report of PLANT cities and citizens, so he had been writing down some information too trivial to include in an official report in his free time, which was rather much. It also gave him a good way to kill time.
Striding across the hotel room assigned to him, he automatically straightened his uniform. Whoever the visitor was, he should look proper as a lieutenant colonel of the Orb's military.
As he reached the door, another banging came.
"Yes?" Deepening the frown, he opened the door to find a familiar face glaring at him.
"Can't you answer the door faster?!"
He gave a blank face. "Yzak?"
The silver-head didn't reply. Instead, someone else spoke in a joking tone, "Sorry to disturb you, sir. Delivery service."
Athrun turned his eyes to another guest who had not yet come into his view. "Dearka?"
The blond stretched out his hand leisurely. "Here. What you asked for."
Athrun's eyes lit up at the sight of what the hand was holding. "Thank you." He took the suitcase from the blond, anxious to check its content.
Motioning at his friends to follow him into the room—though they probably would do so anyway without his permission—he walked back toward the desk and opened the suitcase. Unconsciously holding his breath, he zipped open an inside pocket and looked into it.
A quiet, but genuine sigh of relief escaped his lips. Along with other belongings of his he had left in his room on the Minerva was what he had been looking for, the reason why he had troubled Yzak and Dearka to get back his suitcase. He slid a hand into the pocket and securely closed his fingers around the red stone pendant, which perfectly fit into his palm. Its familiar feel brought a warm smile to his face.
He had left the amulet in his suitcase in which he kept some stuff he preferred to keep around. He didn't care much about other belongings like clothes, which he could easily replace, but this stone was different. He had been worried whether he could get it back, afraid someone might have thrown away his belongings after his defection or they might have perished along with the Minerva.
Thankfully, his belongings had been kept in storage at the Carpentaria base as the stuff concerning a defection case; Yzak and Dearka had pulled some strings so that he could lay his hands on them. And now the amulet had come back to him, where it belonged.
A whistling sound brought his attention back to his old teammates.
"Did you keep a photograph of Princess or something in it?" Dearka asked with a lopsided grin.
"Huh?"
"You have something related to her there, yeah?" Dearka gave him a knowing smile.
Athrun sent a suspicious look to the blond. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, you were—"
"You had a quite stupid face," Yzak cut in with an annoyed expression.
Athrun frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
"What he meant is you were grinning happily," Dearka explained, which didn't really make sense to Athrun.
Well, it did make sense he had looked happy. He didn't doubt it. But he didn't understand why he had to be accused of having "a quite stupid face" just because he had been smiling. It seemed rather unreasonable even for Yzak.
It also didn't explain how Dearka had figured out it had something to do with Cagalli. However, Athrun knew better than to ask about it, which surely would lead the conversation in a direction he wouldn't like. It might even cause Dearka to attempt to take a look at what Athrun had inside the suitcase pocket, which he had no intention of allowing. Probably Dearka had just made a lucky guess, he inwardly concluded.
He wasn't going to argue with Yzak, either, as much as he didn't like Yzak's description of his smile. It would be too much trouble. It was best not to pursue the subject.
So he just said, "Well, anyway, I appreciate your help. You actually got it faster than I thought."
In response, one of the two men grinned and another snorted.
"So what's your plan now?" Yzak's tone was almost hostile, but Athrun simply ignored it. This was Yzak after all, and it seemed the blue-eyed man was in a bad mood today, though maybe he should call it Yzak's usual mood.
"As you know, we are staying in PLANT as long as the delegation do. Most of our warships, including the Archangel, are going to accompany them and return to Orb after the negotiation ends, unless we receive an order to do otherwise. I'm not sure about the Eternal. Perhaps—"
"That's not what I'm talking about, idiot."
He looked at Yzak's annoyed face with confusion.
"He wants to know if you are coming back to PLANT," Dearka said helpfully, pointing a finger at Athrun's chest, as Yzak looked away with a scowl.
"No," Athrun answered without hesitation. He had already decided about this, even before the war had ended, even before the final battle had begun, even before the Archangel had left Orb for space. "I'm staying in Orb."
Yzak scoffed, but didn't say anything, which was rather surprising. Athrun looked at Dearka, half expecting the blond to give him an explanation again. However, Dearka looked surprised as well and just shrugged, indicating he had no idea. Yzak himself didn't elaborate, which was expected. So Athrun left it at that. It wasn't like he wanted Yzak to make comments or probe for his reason. This was actually much preferable.
They seated themselves and talked about the peace negotiation between their countries, situations in other countries, and their mutual friends for a while before the silver-head and the blond had to leave due to their work.
Seeing them off, Athrun closed the door and walked toward the window to look down at the city. The room was one of the best in this hotel and thus, had a good view; the Orb delegation were very important guests to PLANT and he was given a room as their bodyguard.
The sight of a PLANT city made him somewhat nostalgic, reminding him of old days when his parents had been alive. He had once expected to spend his life here. He had been expected to protect this country.
However, he had changed and his wishes had changed as well. He wasn't a child who lived as other people expected him to anymore. He didn't belong here anymore. Spending time in PLANT—without much worry about war or conflicts—had just made it clearer. His feeling of homesickness had not decreased since he came to PLANT with his comrades after defeating Dullindal. On the contrary, it increased with each day he spent here. This wasn't the place he was missing, the place where he longed to be.
PLANT was still an important place to him. It was in this country that he had been born and his parents had lived and died. He would always love and care about it. Yet, what was most important to him, what he wanted to protect most, wasn't here. This wasn't where he wanted to spend the rest of his life. His past was here, but not his future and his happiness.
The last time he had come to PLANT, he had been feeling he didn't really belong anywhere. He had felt out of place in Orb, not comfortable with the new life there. The feeling had not changed after rejoining ZAFT and returning to his old life. It had been familiar and comforting to be back in the military, especially the one he had belonged to before. Yet, he still had not been able to feel he belonged there.
Now he truly understood why. He understood that he had to commit to the life in one place if he really wanted to settle, to belong. That he had to put an effort into carving out his own place, his own life. You had to work for what you wanted instead of waiting for someone to notice your silent wish and fulfill it for you.
What was given to you easily, given to you solely because of someone's generosity, could be easily taken away when they had a change of mind, and you had no right to even complain. Like Dullindal had given him power and position easily, and then, taken them away from him just as easily. Although they had been given to him out of a hidden agenda rather than generosity, there wasn't much difference. A life based on someone else's effort instead of your own was so fragile and it wasn't really yours. You had little, if any, control over it; it never actually belonged to you.
If you wanted to live your own life, to have control of your life, you had to base your life—though not completely, which was probably impossible—on your own effort. If it was what you wanted, what was important to you, what you didn't want to lose, you had to earn it, working for it and protecting it.
Now he knew he had to earn the life and future he wanted and was willing to do it. Because, more than anything, he couldn't be satisfied otherwise.
That was one of the reasons why he had been unsatisfied with his life in Orb before the war. He had been living a life Cagalli had created for him. He himself had not really made an effort to create his place there, and thus, had not felt attached to it.
Although he had lived in Orb for two years and cared about the country to an extent, he had always seen the country as something replaceable. Something he could leave behind or fight against. Something he fought to protect but only for someone else's sake or because it was the right thing to do rather than because he wanted to protect it.
His life in the country had not been so different. He had abandoned it rather easily, replacing it with another life handed to him, another life someone else created for him. His rejoining had not changed his situation much. He had just been living the same way, the way that didn't satisfy him, in different places.
Without realizing it, he had relied on other people to fulfill his wish instead of trying to do it himself. He had expected someone else to provide him with a place he could belong to and a position which would give him the power to fulfill his wishes, a life that satisfied him, instead of trying to obtain them through his own effort.
It was ironic that he had been so dependent on others while trying to do most things by himself. He had had a completely wrong idea of what it meant to be an independent adult. He had not been able to differentiate between the things he should do himself and the things he had better ask for other people's help with. He had rather mistaken one for the other, which led to wrong choices and caused a lot of troubles to both himself and other people.
It was all right to rely on other people to help him achieve his goals, but the only thing they could do was help; it was his own job to decide which goals he pursued and work to achieve the goals. He should be someone who decided how he lived his own life while accepting the help he needed to live that life, not someone who relied on someone else to show him how to live while rejecting other people's help.
He had to admit that he needed other people's help and support even if he didn't want it, and that he had always received it even when he was ignoring the fact because he thought needing to be helped was a sign of weakness and felt ashamed of it.
He had to learn to accept help from people around him. Paradoxically, it was probably the way to be independent. No one could live on their own, after all. And when you couldn't admit and accept you needed help and support from others, you couldn't realize how much help and support you were receiving or properly appreciate them.
Like he had abandoned the life Cagalli had given to him in the beginning of this war without much regard to her effort to create it, as if her effort to help him meant nothing to him. He had even joined another country's military while working as Chief Representative's special messenger, the position Cagalli had given him so that he could talk to Dullindal as he wished. Without discussing the matter with her, on top of it.
Like he had not been able to thank Cagalli, or even apologize to her for causing her trouble, when she offered to take care of Meyrin, take care of the mess he had made, in the infirmary of the Archangel after his defection, still trying to help him after everything he had done. He had not been able to handle well the reality in which he was being helped by the person he had tried to help, protected by the person he wanted to protect, especially since the person was his girlfriend, someone he was supposed to lead. Thus, he had ended up acting in such a rude way.
That she had not appeared to mind his behavior was no excuse. He knew she would keep helping him, and Meyrin, whether he appreciated it or not. She must have still given them as much help as she could even if he and Meyrin had not fought to protect Orb or even if he had chosen to leave Cagalli. That was the kind of person Cagalli was, and he loved her for it.
However, he shouldn't just take her generosity without even thanking her. He couldn't remain childish and dependent on her like that. He kept it in his mind that he should thank her for all the help and support she had given him next time they talked in person. That was necessary in order for him to become the person he wanted to be.
He wanted to be independent, more reliable especially to Cagalli. Although he knew she would give him nothing but worry and care and support when he was being weak and pathetic, as she had done repeatedly, it didn't mean he wanted to be like that in front of her, the person he wanted to protect most. Well, he couldn't deny that it felt actually good to reveal his weakness to her; she didn't make him feel bad about doing it.
But he wanted more than that. He wanted to become a person who could protect those he loved instead of just being protected. A person who could lighten her burdens like she was doing his. A person who could make her feel as safe as she made him feel.
He was determined to believe he could become that person, could have such a future, and fight for it. There was no guarantee he actually could. But if you didn't believe in yourself and in the future, if you just gave up because you didn't know you could have it for certain, you never could achieve your goals.
He walked back to the desk, to his suitcase, and pulled out the amulet to gaze at it. The color of the stone reminded him of his past. There had been a time when the color—red—was the word that defined him.
Unconsciously, he touched his green shirt. He had not meant it that way when he chose the shirt, at least not consciously. But it felt like the color he was wearing symbolized his change. He was no longer the boy who had been proud of the red uniform of ZAFT he had been given. The boy had been fighting mostly because of his past; he was fighting because of his future more than anything. At the same time, he was still the same person as the boy. He would always be Athrun Zala who had once been that boy.
He was going to live as himself even if it meant living as someone who had a dark and bloody past and an infamous father, instead of living as someone who had no past. He wasn't going to run away from what he had done or what his father had done as he once had. At the same time, he wasn't going to live in the past or live as just his father's son. As much as he was the son of Patrick Zala, he was his own person.
It wasn't easy to balance all aspects of him, balance his past and present, but it was the burden he had to keep bearing. He couldn't abandon his past or being himself. He was going to build a life and future on his past.
And he knew where he wanted to do it, what kind of future he wanted, and with whom he wanted to have a life. He knew what his happiness was, where it was, and how to have it.
He knew where he belonged, where he wanted to belong to, and he was going back there, where his heart was.
Athrun glanced at the clock on the computer screen, and exhaled. There were still a couple of hours before the ceremony welcoming the Archangel and the other warships. Hours he had to kill.
He browsed news channels again, but there was nothing new or interesting. He looked around his room in the Archangel, but it didn't need cleaning. He had no task at hand besides waiting.
Letting out another breath, he shut down the computer and stood up. Maybe the mechanics or the Infinite Justice had something to offer to him.
"Can't you just enjoy your free time? Do something fun. You know how to have fun, right?" A voice came to his mind. Along with an image of a golden-haired girl pulling a face and folding her arms before her chest.
As he left the room, a small smile was playing on his lips. Anticipation squeezed his chest. The major reason why he was restless was because he was finally getting to meet her during the ceremony. He doubted they could find time to talk as much as they would like for she must be still busy, but the prospect of seeing and talking with her in person was exciting enough.
He briefly thought the situation was somewhat similar to the one after he had left the Minerva and come to the Archangel. A reunion after long months of separation.
Yet, the situations were amazingly different. So were his feelings.
At that time, he had not been exactly happy to see her and talk with her again. He had failed to achieve his goals. He had not been able to stop the war from happening or protect those he cared about. He had hurt them instead. It had turned out he was the one who had been wrong about Dullindal, not the Archangel crew. He even had not been able to stop Dullindal or ZAFT and had just run away. He had felt like such a failure.
On top of that, he had felt ashamed that he had given Cagalli, who had more than enough burdens on her shoulders, even more troubles to deal with instead of helping and protecting her, which was his original intention. The feeling of shame had been so strong that he could barely look at her while he was pathetically lying in the Archangel's infirmary, miserable and frustrated and angry at himself.
Though he still had not been able to help but sulk in front of her, reveal his regrets and distress to her. She had a strange tendency to make him act like a child and want to be strong at the same time. Maybe because she was both childish and strong.
Since then, however, he had succeeded in achieving some of his goals. He had protected Orb from the ZAFT attack and from the Requiem. He had contributed to ending the war. He had been able to help and protect her, which he had always wanted and tried to do. And he had the power and authority he could use to keep doing it. Although his feeling of guilt toward the people he had troubled wasn't completely gone, he was feeling satisfied and proud, eager to face her again.
His achievements had also made him feel more comfortable with his position. He might not fully deserve such a high position in the Orb's military after his past actions; he expected some people would start complaining if they hadn't already. Still, he wasn't totally undeserving of it and he was determined to prove it.
In a way, his current situation was similar to the one before the war; he wouldn't have been in this position without Cagalli. This time, however, he wasn't going to let her make all the effort to protect his place in Orb. He would make his own effort to be accepted by the people of Orb, which was essential for the future he wanted. He was going to accept the help she provided him with in order to achieve his goals, but he was the one who would do the work because it was his future and his dreams. It was how it should be.
Half lost in reverie, he turned a corner, and nearly ran into someone.
"Hey, watch o—"
"Oh, sor—"
He stared at the very person who had been on his mind. She stared back. They just remained that way for a minute.
"Hey," he finally uttered, unable to find anything else to say. There had been so many things he wanted to tell her. But everything seemed to have fled his mind.
"Hey," she said back.
Her eyes were boring into his face as if she doubted he was actually in front of her. She awkwardly reached out her hand to touch his cheek.
"You are here," she said almost wonderingly.
"Yes." He put his hand over hers.
"You are all right."
"Yes."
"Have you really got no injuries?" Stepping back, she looked him over from head to toe with squinted eyes as if trying to see through his uniform.
"I thought you've already received a full report on the battle including our damages," he replied, missing the feel of her hand on his cheek and in his hand. She had pulled away her hand as she took a step back.
"I did," she confirmed. "But there is no guarantee everyone reported their injuries honestly."
"Are you accusing me of giving a false report to my superior?" he asked jokingly.
She sent him a narrow-eyed look. "I just know you have the tendency to ignore or belittle your damage."
"Well...at least this time, I didn't get injured at all."
She stared into his eyes for a little before her body visibly relaxed. "I'm glad," she said with a breath of relief, then murmured, "Thank Haumea."
Reflectively, he touched his pocket where the goddess' amulet was stashed. He had not known whether he should tell her he had come close to losing it. A part of him didn't want to admit to her that he had nearly failed to keep it safe even though he knew she wouldn't blame him for it.
But now, he felt he wanted to. He wanted her to know how much the stone meant to him and how glad he was to have it back.
Furthermore, he needed to start trying harder to open up, he told himself. He shouldn't always wait for her to sense he had something he wanted to talk about and encourage him to. He should get accustomed to taking care of his own needs like the need to talk with her about what bothered him instead of neglecting the needs or expecting her to take care of them.
It might be selfish of him to try to fulfill his needs. He was hardly used to it and still felt awkward and guilty to an extent. But he now understood it wasn't wrong. It was just a natural thing for a human being, and he was just one.
Plus, he knew she would accept it if he was being a little selfish and trying to fulfill his needs—as long as he didn't go too far, of course. In that case, she would stop him from ruining her happiness because of his selfishness. She would protect herself from him, and thus protect him from himself.
He knew it, but he was also resolved to try hard so that she wouldn't have to do it, so that she wouldn't have to do the job of protecting them on her own. He wouldn't make the same mistake again, he had vowed to himself when he had realized she had taken off his ring without talking to him about it. When he had realized she had had to do so due to her fear that he might not accept her decision to protect herself.
He had no intention of making her feel like that again. And in order to truly protect her, to keep accepting her as a whole, he needed to accept himself as a whole, including his selfish needs. He needed to learn how to deal with his desires better.
And this was the first step.
He took the amulet out of his pocket. Her eyes widened.
"You still have it."
"Actually...I kind of lost it. I left it in the Minerva when I defected since I didn't have time to collect it. I probably should've kept it around."
Even when he didn't have the amulet with him, the feelings she had given him with it—which were actually much more important than the stone itself—had always been with him. The hope she had given him was always inside him, warming him, encouraging him, and supporting him. But the stone was still very important to him, and having it with him made him feel a lot better.
"Sorry I didn't take good care of it."
"No. That's actually better," she said. "I mean...it means you survived the war on your own, right? Without the amulet's protection or reminding. Because you wanted to and tried to. I'm so much happier that way."
With a reminiscent look, she continued, "I gave it to you because you looked like you didn't care even if you were going to die. Like you wouldn't or couldn't protect yourself. So I thought the amulet might help. But now you don't need it, and I'm truly glad about it." She touched the red stone with a gentle smile.
Her concern warmed his heart, but his chest tightened with guilt at the same time. Her words reminded him of the distress he had caused her.
She had always been worried about him and telling and showing him how much she wanted him to be alive and well. During the previous war and after that. When he had taken part in destroying the remnants of Junius Seven without telling her and almost failed to return. When he had left Orb for PLANT and not even tried to contact her during his absence. When they had met on the cliff to discuss their situation. When he had defected and come to the Archangel with serious injuries. When he had said he felt like dying despite knowing her concern about him.
Her worries must have been worse than they should, since he had not put much effort into taking care of himself and she had known it very well. He had kept making her worry without really realizing it, without really considering how much it burdened her, without really trying to reduce her burden. He had not paid much attention to how she was feeling, practically dismissing her worries as if they didn't matter much to him. He had not done so because he didn't value his life; he had not meant to sacrifice his life after the previous war. But it didn't change the fact that he had kept making her worried, eroding her trust in him.
And yet, he had expected her to pay close attention to his feelings, notice it when he felt down or dissatisfied and comfort him even if he didn't tell her about it, give him what he wanted even if he didn't clearly ask for it. Since she had done it during the previous war, he had expected her to keep doing it even when she had too many problems of her own to deal with. And he had become frustrated because she didn't meet his expectations, which he had not even realized he was doing until quite recently.
"You knew I was coming back, right?" he asked, suddenly feeling uncertain.
When they parted, he had been aware that she was quite worried, and he had wanted to reassure her, relieve her of worries. Although they had not had a chance to talk, he had felt that she knew his determination to return to her side. That his hug had told it to her.
He wanted to make sure it had not been just his imagination.
"I knew you were trying to," she answered, which made him relieved. "But I also knew there was still a possibility you wouldn't come back. A possibility you couldn't survive." Her eyes were moist. "I was worried."
"Yeah..." His face darkened as he remembered his own fear and desperation he had felt when he thought Orb was going to be attacked by the Requiem and she might die. And the relief he had felt at the sight of the return signal which indicated the end of the battle, of the war; and the longing to return to her.
He couldn't speak anymore, or didn't know what to say. So he pulled her into a hug. She tightly hugged him back.
Feeling her warmth and heartbeat and hearing her breathing, he released a slow, long breath. She was alive. She was all right. She was in his arms. He felt as if there was nothing more amazing in this universe.
His body gradually relaxed. Until now, he had not known exactly how much he had been stressed, being far away from her and worried about her safety and well-being. But she was here now. No, he was here now. He was where he could feel truly safe and happy. He was where he wanted to be, where his heart had been longing to be. He was at her side.
"I'm back."
"Welcome back."
He was where he belonged. He was home.
The End
A/N: If you like to know more about my interpretation of Athrun and Cagalli's story in GSD, you can read "The Ring," "The Girl of the Past," "Chain of Love," and/or "Missing Piece." You can also read my analysis on the ring Athrun gave Cagalli which is on my blog. The address is on my profile page.
Thank you for reading. If you have reviewed my fics, I thank you for that too.
And happy birthday, Athrun!