A Diary of Lacus Clyne
by the Black Rose

AN: Set post-Destiny, though it could almost be taken for AU (since there's no reference to politics or the actual war). All PLANT/Coordinator/genetic...er stuff is explained (and most of it invented). Thank you to those who will read it. Love, Rose

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Seed. This fanfiction has no commercial value and I am not making any kind of profit or income off of this story, or the use of characters owned by Sunrise and Bandai.

Note: Written in Athrun first person POV.

Prologue

After surviving two universal wars that pitted brother against brother, Coordinators against Naturals. I left the battlefield to cope with life, and a future that was similar to the one I imagined as a kid, but…strange at the same time. It was like someone had taken the image and mangled it, twisted it around until it became a different picture of what once was supposed to be my life. Somehow recognizable, and at the same time…completely different.

It happened just after my twenty-second birthday. Where the years had gone since I was eighteen, I didn't exactly know. It was like I had flipped a switch before settling behind the wheel of a car - setting it on cruise control with no particular direction. And I was asleep in the driver's seat.

That was my life.

I had found work as an engineer for an automotive company – designing vehicles primarily for harvesting and other agricultural purposes here on the PLANTs. A new and vital industry for the colonies' survival.

It didn't pay a fortune, but the salary was good enough for a single guy with no dependents, and so were the benefits. Though I could have stood for an actual office instead of one of these drafting desks and a whiteboard.

I found myself in a routine. One most people probably fall into. I got up every morning, drove to work, completed my assigned tasks for the morning, ate lunch, went back to work, finished up my day, fought traffic to get home, where I'd order something for takeout (or heat up leftover pizza) and watch tv while I ate. Then, I'd check email, and finally fall into bed sometime close to midnight only to do it all again the next day. Ok, so maybe the leftover pizza and takeout is something reserved for bachelors only. But, poor eating habits aside, it was a reasonable routine. A safe routine. And a safe kind of life.

I don't remember thinking I was lonely. Or that anything was missing. I don't remember thinking anything at all. Until the day I received a very strange phone call… It may as well have been an alarm clock or a horn blaring from one of the other drivers on the road. My eyes shot wide open.

The car that had become my boring, safe kind of life was no longer on cruise control. And speeding straight into oncoming traffic.

Chapter 1

It was an ordinary day. I was twirling a pencil on the end of my thumb and trying to calculate the density of material required for the rear axel on my new harvester design – in order to counter balance the arm. I was calculating this in my head while trying to ignore my coworker Emily's chatter. These whiteboards do nothing to control sound.

My phone rang at my desk. The person identified himself as Harvey something and he claimed to be an editor working for a journal of some sort – entertainment, probably. He told me, but I didn't know what any of that was. When we met several days later for a 'business' lunch, because that was the purpose of his call, he wanted to talk about her.

Lacus Clyne.

"Unofficially, we're no longer engaged." Was my typical line. I said it without so much as missing a bite of my hamburger. Harvey – who was a short guy with a large nose, thick wrinkles, and big, square-shaped glasses – frowned, but nodded. I thought maybe we were done, which was a bit naïve, looking back. And would have made this meeting a complete waste of time.

"Yes," Harvey folded both hands on the table and stared in the direction of the centerpiece. "Her managers wouldn't say that outright or nothing, but I could guess. But you know her, right? I mean, you know her better than anyone else, am I right?" He met my eyes from across the table. I placed my hamburger back on my plate and wiped at the corners of my mouth.

"I…guess so." But really, what the hell did I know? It'd been years since we'd seen each other on a regular basis. And she kept in touch, sending me email every…now and again.

-

Dear Athrun,

We arrived safely on Aprilius Four today. So many people showed up to greet us when we landed. The line seemed to stretch for miles…

-

But I rarely returned her messages.

"We want an article. Something that isn't the typical bull, right? Something really…" He waved his hands in a circular manner. His square-framed glasses slipped down his nose. "Something that tells the story behind the story. You get what I mean?"

It took me a minute to process. I took a sip of my iced tea. "You want me to write an article?"

"Yeah."

"On my former fiancée." I placed my glass back on the table. The idea was…

"Yeah."

I looked Harvey square in the eye. "I'm an engineer."

"Right, I know." He nodded vigorously. His thin, colorless lips stretched into a grin. "We'll pay ya. Ya'know, right?"

"I can speak English and I can write it when I'm asked to." I picked up my glass again and studied the liquid. "But my profession doesn't usually ask me to."

"That's all right." He slapped both hands down on the table. "That's why we have people called editors, right?"

I shrugged. Write an article about Lacus. What was the point in that? "I don't think so." I shook my head and chucked my napkin at the tablecloth. "There's already enough about her in print. I don't see the—"

"I understand where you're goin'. But Lacus Clyne is a woman, right? We've got all these people that think of her like she's an ideal." Harvey raised one hand and gestured in the air by rotating his wrist. "Like she's a dream, or a goddess. How long do you think she can keep that up before something has to give?"

I leapt from my chair. "If you think I'm going to—"

"No." He jumped to his feet and placed a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. "I don't mean nothin' like that." He removed his glasses. "But we want to portray her in a way no one else has – like the woman, the human being she really is. We think that she'll be better for it and so will her fans. Right?" He held his glasses up to the light and stared at them.

That did make some amount of sense. It wasn't really fair what people demanded of her. They expected her to be more than a singer – she had to play the role of a political leader, a diplomat, the mother figure for all of PLANT.

-

"I think Mr. Pink gets lonely with just me to play with, especially when I'm always so busy…."

-

It really was too much for one person. Even someone like her.

I found my chair, again and sat down. "That's great, but I still don't see why you need me to write it."

"I already told you. You know her better than anyone." He brought his glasses down and rubbed the lenses with the bottom of the pullover shirt he wore with black slacks and…sandals?

"I think you're—"

"Who does she got that's not around her because they're paid?" He replaced the glasses on the tip of his nose. He scrunched his face. The glasses moved closer to his eyes. "She's got managers, dancers, backup singers, security, right?" Harvey sat back in his chair. "I'd ask her little robot guy, but I think he'd write worse than an engineer. Besides, you seem like a decent guy. If someone would want to help her out, well, I think it'd be you." He showed me a full set of teeth. "Am I right?"

I think by 'decent guy' he meant 'sucker', but if something I wrote could possibly help Lacus…I sighed. "I could…give it a shot."

"Excellent." He clapped his hands together. "Excellent. I need 2,000 words by three weeks from Friday." Harvey's right arm disappeared behind his back. It emerged holding a brown leather wallet. He flipped it open. "If you need some help on the draft, here's my card. I'll pay you $200."

I think my mouth hung open, but I reached for the card anyway. "You're not going to tell me how to start or…anything?"

"Nope." He pulled a few bills from his wallet and tossed them on the table. His arm disappeared behind his back at the same time he stood from his chair. "Use your imagination. What do you have to lose, right?"

What did I have to lose… Those were famous last words.

I wondered if I could borrow them.

Sixteen days, forty cups of coffee, twenty-three crumpled pieces of paper, and seven weird stares from my coworkers later… I called Harvey back.

"Yeah, Athrun Zala." His voice sounded like he'd spent a lot of his life smoking cigarettes. "Good timing. How's the piece comin?"

"Not good.I…" I sighed and tried to think of ways to phrase my frustration. "I don't think I'm cut out for—"

"No no no, what are ya talkin' about? You're kidding me, right?"

I chucked my pencil at my white laminate drafting table. "I'm not. I just…" I sat back in my office chair and rolled backwards. "There have to be other people that can help you. Maybe someone that's written something other than scientific research papers…" I brought a hand up to my run through the front of my hair. I felt like slapping it against my forehead.

"I don't want someone else." There was a pause, a wheezing breath. "Come on, what's wrong? She was your girl, right?"

I pressed my knuckles to my forehead. "Our relationship…if you can call it that….It was." I tilted my head back to look at the ceiling – as if there was some answer written up there. Yeah. Right. " I just don't think it's what you—"

"You're the only guy, Athrun. She still," Harvey coughed into the phone. "Best anyone can tell, doesn't date, ya know?"

My stomach twisted into one, large constrictor knot. "She…"

"She what?"

I spun my chair and pushed myself back to my desk. I studied the surface. The white had some chips—

"Hey, Athrun. What, where'd you go?"

"I'm here."

"You were sayin' something."

Oh. Yeah. "Nevermind."

"You sure it's not important?"

I leaned over my desk and rested my forehead in the palm of my hand. "Yeah. Positive." How could I tell him that I let her go? That Lacus, being Lacus, would have married me out of principle and nothing else? It was something I could barely admit to myself. She cared…but— "I'll give it another shot."

There was a hoarse chuckle. "There ya go, kid. I'll buy you a steak dinner when I see ya next Friday."

"Great. Thanks." I hung up and briefly wondered if I could hang myself from the ceiling with the phone cord. That seemed a little unlikely and a lot overdramatic. Instead, I revived my computer from its mid-afternoon 'nap', and settled for doing a little research on the internet. Subject: Lacus Clyne.

-

"Lacus Clyne was born to Sigel and Faith Clyne in C.E. 55, as a second generation Coordinator."

-

That had to be the most boring way to start an article, especially one that was 'new' and 'different'. But where else should I start? When my father came home and told me I was engaged to her? That seemed a little…beside the point in an article about Lacus.

After another forty minutes or so of textbook-like research, I eventually decided that Harvey and whoever these people were would get what I could pull together. And if they didn't like it, then they could get their 'editors' to fix it up however they wanted. My purpose was to supply the information

Unfortunately, that was the tough part.

-

"Genetically, she was intended to be a teacher or researcher. Her father hoped that by the time his daughter reached adulthood, the world political situation would allow Lacus a more simple life than the one he felt compelled to choose."

-

Lacus's father had been a good man, when he was alive. He and I shared a similar love of engineering – 'tinkering', he said his wife had called it. My father and Sigel Clyne had been friends, once. Before the war turned them against each other.

Before my father had his 'friend' killed in the name of patriotism. And genocide.

-

"I see you're quite the engineer, Athrun." Sigel Clyne's voice entered the room. I glanced up from my make-shift work table on the Clyne's backyard patio. Lacus had gone for a 'walk' with okapi while I replaced one of the hinges on haro's 'ears'.

"N-not really, sir. They're simple micro units, and I—"

"Simple, sure, but not for someone your age." The Chairman of the PLANT Supreme Council pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. "I struggled with my first micro unit in college, and you're building them at fourteen. I'd say that's quite an accomplishment."

I glanced up from my work. "Y-yes sir."

Lacus's father smiled. "You're in luck. Lacus absolutely adores them." He patted his left hand on top of the table. "I made her okapi when she was two and she still insists I keep it in running order. My wife, however," he folded his hands together, "never liked them. Always claimed such 'infernal toys' were in the way…"

-

I couldn't help but smile, even though my chest tightened with the memory. Mr. Clyne…had a kind face and a much gentler nature than my own father. It was easy to see a resemblance between him and Lacus. It was a good resemblance…. While every morning, I searched the mirror and hoped to God no one could see anything in me of Patrick Zala…

Or as he ordered me to call him: Chairman Zala.

"It's generally supposed that Lacus's great-grandmother is responsible for her love of singing. And her talent for it."

-

I didn't manage to finish writing an entire page before I realized something… Or, actually a couple of somethings. I was about to fall behind in my job if I didn't stop bringing this with me to work. I thought I could spend a few minutes on my lunch break and during slow periods picking at the article. But my thoughts were bleeding over into regular work hours.

And not just an occasional, stray thought, though I had those, too. I just…I kept racking my brain for anything that might be unique in my knowledge of Lacus. Her life was such an open book. She'd been on countless interviews telling people anything from the fact that she wore bunny slippers to bed as a child (actually wore them under the covers while she slept), to why she had so many haros bouncing around her house – and her person – all the time.

I got most of the 'blame' for that. I'm…not really an original kind of guy. And giving Lacus a new haro for a gift… Well, she always gasped and smiled – like it was a big surprise. And then she'd spend hours playing with it, teaching it to synch with her other haros, and talking to it so it recorded things to say.

I guess I'm the type of guy that when I find something that works I stick with it. Which reminded me. This article was not working for me. Not even remotely.

-

"Sigel Clyne's grandmother had been an opera star in the former Scandanavian state referred to as Finland. While Lacus's parents had presumed and intended their daughter for more academic pursuits, Lacus loved to sing. By age twelve, she had written her first song and sang it at her junior high school talent show. It wasn't long after that she began singing in concert halls. Her first concert was given on Junius Five in the White Symphony theater. It remains one of Lacus's fondest memories."

-

I seriously doubted these people had contacted me to write her biography. I sighed, packed up my things for the day in my backpack and headed to my apartment. As I shut down my computer for the night, it occurred to me: I couldn't imagine having to earn a living like this. I'd starve.

-

"Her first album sold over a million copies on the PLANTs. At the age of fourteen, she was considered an idol…"

-

I take it back. I'd go broke, then starve. It would be a far more painful process than just starving to death.

Kind of like writing this article.