1 ~Sahara Desert
A.C. 182~
The camp was alive with light. Angel Tsuiraku Kurama was cradled closely to her mother as they watched the men accept flowers and good luck kisses from their wives. Though the nomadic men tried their hardest to be a peaceful group, the Maganac accepted their duties as the army of the Unified Arab Nation. Now their duties called them to the battlefield again, to fight the Alliance and their elite faction. The faction was known as OZ, and was a particularly deadly group of soldiers. Two-year-old Angel was too young to properly understand all this, however. All she knew was that her father was leaving, as well as the other men.
"That man," her mother muttered softly, then smiled down at her. "He'll be back soon, little one."
"Pop-pop!" was Angel's saddened reply. She'd desperately miss her father.
"Habibi . . ." Rasid Kurama knelt to kiss his wife. He towered over her, and she had to lift her head high to look at him.
"Rasid . . . be careful. Don't take risks if you don't have to."
"Marianne," he responded quietly. "Life is about taking risks. I lead these men. I must not let my fear show. But I will return to you, love."
"You'd better," Marianne agreed, smiling. Her voice still held the soft British lilt that Rasid so adored.
"Pop-pop!" Angel exclaimed, lifting her soft lips for a peck. "Miss you!"
"I miss you too, my British princess," Rasid smiled. "Be good for your mother."
Other such tearful good-byes were being said. Mohammed lowered his lips to his wife's.
"Stay safe. Watch our Abdullah carefully." (*author's note: I have come to the conclusion that Mohammed and Abdul are most likely great friends, and so Mohammed would name his son after him.*)
"I will. Stay safe yourself."
Abdul bid his wife goodbye as well. Newlyweds, not easily pried apart. But the time had come. The last good-byes were said between all the men and their families.
"Well," Marianne murmured as the last of the mobile suites pulled away from camp, "looks like it's just us women now, eh Angel?"
"They've left?"
That voice cause Marianne to turn back, looking onto the stern face of Mr. Winner.
"Aye," she answered. His gaze met hers, ice-cold as ever.
"I see. You try to pass yourself as Arabian?"
"Nay. I'm fully aware and very proud of my Celtic background."
"Celtic? The Celts died out in Roman times."
"Nevertheless, that is who I am." Marianne lowered her daughter to the floor. "You respect my husband, yet you seem to scorn me, sir."
For that, the powerful Winner had no response. This woman was so much like his beloved Quaterine . . .
His eyes lifted to hers again, cold and hard as before. "Inform me of their return."
Angel had slipped away during this scene, a little afraid of Mr. Winner. She ran silently into a tent and slipped under the covers.
"Angel?" a boyish voice mumbled.
"Kitty . . .!" she replied, snuggling against him. Quatre Raberba Winner opened his eyes to peek at his best friend.
"You okay, Boo?" he asked, pulling her tight to him. The two-year- olds took comfort in each other's presence.
"Kitty, Pop-pop gone!"
"It's okay, Boo."
~Three days later
Midnight~
Angel sobbed into her pillow. First her father had gone, and then, early in the morning, Quatre and his father had left as well. She stumbled toward the tent flap, aching for her mother, when the sound of hooves caused her to shrink back into the shadows.
There were black horses, many of them. Angel quickly ducked into the shadows. There were men on the horses, men in all black. But the symbols on their faces. . . the symbols were in red, like blood.
"Angel!" her mother hissed. Angel turned to Marianne with wide, frightened eyes. "Hide, baby."
Her mother guided her into a very small hiding place.
"Mum!" she gasped. Marianne shushed her.
"Quiet, Angie, quiet. Close your eyes, don't speak. Don't make a sound. Can you do that?"
"Y-yes . . .mum . . ."
Marianne stroked her daughter's hair and drew her husband's scimitars. She could hear the other women screaming, fighting, struggling against their attackers.
She lifted her voice in a battle cry. Angel watched her mother and the other thirty-nine women fighting bravely, falling in battle. She watched her mother fall, bleeding. Men in black came down on her with their weapons.
Marianne Kurama, along with all of the other women in camp, were left to die in the desert. Angel Tsuiraku Kurama was the only person alive by one a.m.
~Two and a Half years later
L-4 Colony Summer Winner Estate~
Makoto Tanaka sank into a bow before Mr. Winner, fighting the urge to yawn. Her gaze cut to Heitai (*author's note: Little is known of Heero Yuy's actual past. Heitai is the name that my friend decided for him when he was young, before he met Odin Lowe. It is suspected, at least for the purposes of this story, that Heero, or Heitai, came from a wealthy family living on L-1.*), son of the wealthiest family in Japan as well as the Japanese Colony, L-1. He was her lifetime playmate. Her father was a well- known senator, and was close to Heitai's family, as well as the powerful Winner family. Allied to the Winners were the Maganac, the group of United Arab soldiers that looked to Mr. Winner for funding in return for support and protection. Angel Kurama, daughter of the Maganac's captain, had also been Makoto's friend since birth.
Angel's eyes were haunted as she approached from the other entrance. She was clearly still mourning the loss of her mother, and of all the women and children who perished in her camp. No-her home, Mako reflected.
"Mako!" Quickly shielding the pain in her eyes, Angel ran to her friend. She glomped her, nearly knocking them both down.
"Angel!" she replied, giggling merrily.
Quatre shyly pulled Angel into his arms for a hug. He'd mourned the loss of her mother with her, and felt deeply connected to her. Heitai grabbed Mako from behind and spun her around, making her laugh.
"Ah, the little Tsuiraku arrives," Senator Tanaka murmured, smiling down at Angel. She beamed up at him, then remembered and bowed deeply.
"Ohayo, Tanaka-san," she replied softly.
"You've been practicing, little one. Very good," he praised.
"Mako-chan helped me," she offered eagerly. "She's the best teacher I've ever had. She's good at everything!"
Mako beamed at her friend, blushing. Heitai nodded his eager agreement.
"Makoto," Senator Tanaka turned to his beautiful young daughter. "Your mother and I are going on a trip with your brother. You stay here with Mr. Winner and your friends, and I'll see you soon."
Mako rushed into her father's arms. "Haii," she replied dutifully. Then, "I'll miss you, papa."
"And I'll miss you, Miyoko," he replied.
"Miyoko?" Angel repeated, confused. Mako was blushing.
"Beautiful child," she translated.
"That's perfect," Angel smiled, then allowed herself to be scooped up for a hug. Heitai's parents accompanied the Tanakas, also leaving their child under the care of Mr. Winner.
Two days later, a train crash took the lives of Makoto and Heitai's parents. Heitai ran away, later discovered by the assassin Odin Lowe. Angel was informed that the Maganac had been totally wiped out in a fierce battle, and she and Mako met the funny old men, the men that created the Gundams, that day, and were whisked into the lives of training. Quatre Raberba Winner had lost his only friends at the age of five.
~North America
Former California, USA
A.C. 200~
Duo Maxwell slipped off his sunglasses as he stepped into the Winner estate. Sighing, he scratched his head.
"Where is that recluse?" he muttered, frowning. "Quatre! Hey, Q- man! Where are you?"
"Quatre-sama is upstairs in his office," Rasid informed him. Duo turned to the older man. Rasid was all right with him, but sometimes he wondered what had caused the lines of grief to be etched so deeply into his face.
"Thanks, Rasid." He spun back to the stairs and took them two at a time.
Heero Yuy blocked his path, his eyes unreadable. "Better not go in there."
"Why not? Louie invited us to dinner!"
"He's not feeling well."
"Nothing a scotch and soda won't cure!"
" . . . "
"Heero!"
"Duo?" The door to Quatre's office opened. He looked worn, paler than usual.
"You sick or somethin', Q-man? Louie wants to see us," the American replied. Quatre smiled.
"Okay. Just let me gather my papers and I'll be right out," he said with a nod, and disappeared into his office. Duo lifted his eyebrows and looked at Heero.
"He'll tell us when he's ready," was the only answer he got from the Perfect Soldier. Duo suspected that Heero already knew what Quatre was being so secretive about. . .
~'O Malley's
6 pm~
Louis 'O Malley owned the best restaurant in town. Also the busiest. Chang Wufei took a seat to wait for his companions, gazing about the crowd. Nothing was amiss, but then why should it be? They'd destroyed all of the weapons in existence.
They had just done it a few years too late for her . . .
"Wufei." That voice he recognized. Trowa Barton took a seat next to him.
"Barton," he replied with a nod. He lowered his eyes to his coffee, careful not to give anything away. The silence stretched between them, for neither had much to say. Wufei didn't look up again until an all-too familiar voice caught his ear.
"Wu-man! How ya doin', Wuffles? How's life treatin' ya, eh?" Duo asked this in a rush as he plopped down at the table, grinning. Quatre took the seat next to the American, smiling at his old friends. But for the first time, his warm smile didn't reach his eyes. Wufei wondered what had caused this to happen.
"Oi, Heero, why don't you call the waitress on over here so we can get some drinks," Duo asked, nudging his stoic friend. Wufei motioned to the seat next to him and Heero sat down. Sighing, Duo waved the waitress over himself.
"Hiya!" she said, beaming. "My name's Aisha, and I'll be your waitress for the night. What can I get you to drink, gentlemen?" She was cute and perky. Duo found himself grinning up at her.
"Uhhhhh . . . Martini?" he asked hopefully. Quatre frowned at him.
"One more year, Duo," he said sternly. Duo stuck his tongue out at the Arabian and turned back to Aisha.
"Then how about some root beer?" he suggested instead. Giggling, Aisha jotted his order down.
"Water." Heero was looking around the room as he said this, scanning it for anyone acting strangely. Old habits, he thought as he forced himself to look at the menu, are hard to break.
"Hot green tea," Wufei said quietly. His eyes were also roaming the restaurant. Aisha scribbled down his order and looked at Trowa, who waved his hand to decline a drink.
"Harrods, ma'am, if you have it," Quatre ordered politely. Aisha grinned at him.
"Ma'am? Do I really look that old?"
For some reason, Duo found this hysterical. Wufei looked at him, a smirk touching his lips. Two of a feather flapped together, he thought with amusement.
"No, no," Quatre assured her, finally giving a genuine and quite charming smile. "I meant no offence. I just wanted to pay such a pretty lady proper respect."
Duo's jaw dropped. Quatre was flirting! Quatre Raberba Winner, the most refined, elegant, and proper man he'd ever met, and he was making a pretty waitress blush and fumble with her pen. No FAIR! he thought. After all, it was his job to make pretty girls blush.
Aisha beamed at Quatre, still red. "Your order will be right out." Then she scurried away toward the kitchen. The order was snatched from her but she hardly noticed.
"Aish! Gimme a hand with this damn cart! I can't unlock the wheels," Lian Nataku growled, kicking at the said object.
"Lian! Two really hot guys just started flirting with me!" Aisha squealed, bending to flip the lock on the wheels. Lian slid her trays onto the cart and tossed her ebony hair out of her equally ebony eyes.
"That so? Which table?" she asked with interest. Aisha pointed.
"Damn! They're all hot!"
"See!"
"Right, well, enough with the 'hot guys'," came an English voice from behind them. "Why don't you take that cart out to the customers?"
Louie 'O Malley stood slightly in-between the girls, eyebrow lifted. But he was obviously amused and his voice showed it. He had as much bite as a sleeping kitten. Lian and Aisha flashed him innocent, charming smiles and went back to work. Shaking his head, reprimanding himself again for being such a pushover, Louie returned to the kitchen.
Makoto sat in the shadows of the restaurant, gazing at the screen of her borrowed palm pilot. She looked up at a familiar peel of laughter and watched as Angel, who'd been stopped by Aisha, approach the table.
"What was Aisha saying?" she asked as Angel took a seat. The shorter girl laughed again, eyes dancing with mischief.
"Oh, something about two hot guys flirting with her. So, what's up? Any news?" she asked easily.
"Nope. The Gundam pilots continue to elude us," Mako answered. Angel beamed secretively.
"Or not. See those five guys? Zero-one, Heero Yuy, dark brown hair, cobalt eyes. Zero-two, Duo Maxwell, long chestnut braid, indigo eyes. Zero-three, Trowa Barton, light brown hair in a bang over half of his face, jungle green eyes. Zero-five, Chang Wufei, ebony hair and eyes."
"You skipped Zero-four," Mako informed her. Angel's eyes twinkled and she smirked.
"Zero-four, platinum blonde hair, aquamarine eyes . . . Quatre Raberba Winner."
Mako nearly dropped the palm pilot. "Our Quatre?"
Angel nodded. "Our Quatre. Fifteen years later, a bit more mature, but the same one."
"Quatre . . . do you think he knows where Heitai is?"
"Let's find out."
A.C. 182~
The camp was alive with light. Angel Tsuiraku Kurama was cradled closely to her mother as they watched the men accept flowers and good luck kisses from their wives. Though the nomadic men tried their hardest to be a peaceful group, the Maganac accepted their duties as the army of the Unified Arab Nation. Now their duties called them to the battlefield again, to fight the Alliance and their elite faction. The faction was known as OZ, and was a particularly deadly group of soldiers. Two-year-old Angel was too young to properly understand all this, however. All she knew was that her father was leaving, as well as the other men.
"That man," her mother muttered softly, then smiled down at her. "He'll be back soon, little one."
"Pop-pop!" was Angel's saddened reply. She'd desperately miss her father.
"Habibi . . ." Rasid Kurama knelt to kiss his wife. He towered over her, and she had to lift her head high to look at him.
"Rasid . . . be careful. Don't take risks if you don't have to."
"Marianne," he responded quietly. "Life is about taking risks. I lead these men. I must not let my fear show. But I will return to you, love."
"You'd better," Marianne agreed, smiling. Her voice still held the soft British lilt that Rasid so adored.
"Pop-pop!" Angel exclaimed, lifting her soft lips for a peck. "Miss you!"
"I miss you too, my British princess," Rasid smiled. "Be good for your mother."
Other such tearful good-byes were being said. Mohammed lowered his lips to his wife's.
"Stay safe. Watch our Abdullah carefully." (*author's note: I have come to the conclusion that Mohammed and Abdul are most likely great friends, and so Mohammed would name his son after him.*)
"I will. Stay safe yourself."
Abdul bid his wife goodbye as well. Newlyweds, not easily pried apart. But the time had come. The last good-byes were said between all the men and their families.
"Well," Marianne murmured as the last of the mobile suites pulled away from camp, "looks like it's just us women now, eh Angel?"
"They've left?"
That voice cause Marianne to turn back, looking onto the stern face of Mr. Winner.
"Aye," she answered. His gaze met hers, ice-cold as ever.
"I see. You try to pass yourself as Arabian?"
"Nay. I'm fully aware and very proud of my Celtic background."
"Celtic? The Celts died out in Roman times."
"Nevertheless, that is who I am." Marianne lowered her daughter to the floor. "You respect my husband, yet you seem to scorn me, sir."
For that, the powerful Winner had no response. This woman was so much like his beloved Quaterine . . .
His eyes lifted to hers again, cold and hard as before. "Inform me of their return."
Angel had slipped away during this scene, a little afraid of Mr. Winner. She ran silently into a tent and slipped under the covers.
"Angel?" a boyish voice mumbled.
"Kitty . . .!" she replied, snuggling against him. Quatre Raberba Winner opened his eyes to peek at his best friend.
"You okay, Boo?" he asked, pulling her tight to him. The two-year- olds took comfort in each other's presence.
"Kitty, Pop-pop gone!"
"It's okay, Boo."
~Three days later
Midnight~
Angel sobbed into her pillow. First her father had gone, and then, early in the morning, Quatre and his father had left as well. She stumbled toward the tent flap, aching for her mother, when the sound of hooves caused her to shrink back into the shadows.
There were black horses, many of them. Angel quickly ducked into the shadows. There were men on the horses, men in all black. But the symbols on their faces. . . the symbols were in red, like blood.
"Angel!" her mother hissed. Angel turned to Marianne with wide, frightened eyes. "Hide, baby."
Her mother guided her into a very small hiding place.
"Mum!" she gasped. Marianne shushed her.
"Quiet, Angie, quiet. Close your eyes, don't speak. Don't make a sound. Can you do that?"
"Y-yes . . .mum . . ."
Marianne stroked her daughter's hair and drew her husband's scimitars. She could hear the other women screaming, fighting, struggling against their attackers.
She lifted her voice in a battle cry. Angel watched her mother and the other thirty-nine women fighting bravely, falling in battle. She watched her mother fall, bleeding. Men in black came down on her with their weapons.
Marianne Kurama, along with all of the other women in camp, were left to die in the desert. Angel Tsuiraku Kurama was the only person alive by one a.m.
~Two and a Half years later
L-4 Colony Summer Winner Estate~
Makoto Tanaka sank into a bow before Mr. Winner, fighting the urge to yawn. Her gaze cut to Heitai (*author's note: Little is known of Heero Yuy's actual past. Heitai is the name that my friend decided for him when he was young, before he met Odin Lowe. It is suspected, at least for the purposes of this story, that Heero, or Heitai, came from a wealthy family living on L-1.*), son of the wealthiest family in Japan as well as the Japanese Colony, L-1. He was her lifetime playmate. Her father was a well- known senator, and was close to Heitai's family, as well as the powerful Winner family. Allied to the Winners were the Maganac, the group of United Arab soldiers that looked to Mr. Winner for funding in return for support and protection. Angel Kurama, daughter of the Maganac's captain, had also been Makoto's friend since birth.
Angel's eyes were haunted as she approached from the other entrance. She was clearly still mourning the loss of her mother, and of all the women and children who perished in her camp. No-her home, Mako reflected.
"Mako!" Quickly shielding the pain in her eyes, Angel ran to her friend. She glomped her, nearly knocking them both down.
"Angel!" she replied, giggling merrily.
Quatre shyly pulled Angel into his arms for a hug. He'd mourned the loss of her mother with her, and felt deeply connected to her. Heitai grabbed Mako from behind and spun her around, making her laugh.
"Ah, the little Tsuiraku arrives," Senator Tanaka murmured, smiling down at Angel. She beamed up at him, then remembered and bowed deeply.
"Ohayo, Tanaka-san," she replied softly.
"You've been practicing, little one. Very good," he praised.
"Mako-chan helped me," she offered eagerly. "She's the best teacher I've ever had. She's good at everything!"
Mako beamed at her friend, blushing. Heitai nodded his eager agreement.
"Makoto," Senator Tanaka turned to his beautiful young daughter. "Your mother and I are going on a trip with your brother. You stay here with Mr. Winner and your friends, and I'll see you soon."
Mako rushed into her father's arms. "Haii," she replied dutifully. Then, "I'll miss you, papa."
"And I'll miss you, Miyoko," he replied.
"Miyoko?" Angel repeated, confused. Mako was blushing.
"Beautiful child," she translated.
"That's perfect," Angel smiled, then allowed herself to be scooped up for a hug. Heitai's parents accompanied the Tanakas, also leaving their child under the care of Mr. Winner.
Two days later, a train crash took the lives of Makoto and Heitai's parents. Heitai ran away, later discovered by the assassin Odin Lowe. Angel was informed that the Maganac had been totally wiped out in a fierce battle, and she and Mako met the funny old men, the men that created the Gundams, that day, and were whisked into the lives of training. Quatre Raberba Winner had lost his only friends at the age of five.
~North America
Former California, USA
A.C. 200~
Duo Maxwell slipped off his sunglasses as he stepped into the Winner estate. Sighing, he scratched his head.
"Where is that recluse?" he muttered, frowning. "Quatre! Hey, Q- man! Where are you?"
"Quatre-sama is upstairs in his office," Rasid informed him. Duo turned to the older man. Rasid was all right with him, but sometimes he wondered what had caused the lines of grief to be etched so deeply into his face.
"Thanks, Rasid." He spun back to the stairs and took them two at a time.
Heero Yuy blocked his path, his eyes unreadable. "Better not go in there."
"Why not? Louie invited us to dinner!"
"He's not feeling well."
"Nothing a scotch and soda won't cure!"
" . . . "
"Heero!"
"Duo?" The door to Quatre's office opened. He looked worn, paler than usual.
"You sick or somethin', Q-man? Louie wants to see us," the American replied. Quatre smiled.
"Okay. Just let me gather my papers and I'll be right out," he said with a nod, and disappeared into his office. Duo lifted his eyebrows and looked at Heero.
"He'll tell us when he's ready," was the only answer he got from the Perfect Soldier. Duo suspected that Heero already knew what Quatre was being so secretive about. . .
~'O Malley's
6 pm~
Louis 'O Malley owned the best restaurant in town. Also the busiest. Chang Wufei took a seat to wait for his companions, gazing about the crowd. Nothing was amiss, but then why should it be? They'd destroyed all of the weapons in existence.
They had just done it a few years too late for her . . .
"Wufei." That voice he recognized. Trowa Barton took a seat next to him.
"Barton," he replied with a nod. He lowered his eyes to his coffee, careful not to give anything away. The silence stretched between them, for neither had much to say. Wufei didn't look up again until an all-too familiar voice caught his ear.
"Wu-man! How ya doin', Wuffles? How's life treatin' ya, eh?" Duo asked this in a rush as he plopped down at the table, grinning. Quatre took the seat next to the American, smiling at his old friends. But for the first time, his warm smile didn't reach his eyes. Wufei wondered what had caused this to happen.
"Oi, Heero, why don't you call the waitress on over here so we can get some drinks," Duo asked, nudging his stoic friend. Wufei motioned to the seat next to him and Heero sat down. Sighing, Duo waved the waitress over himself.
"Hiya!" she said, beaming. "My name's Aisha, and I'll be your waitress for the night. What can I get you to drink, gentlemen?" She was cute and perky. Duo found himself grinning up at her.
"Uhhhhh . . . Martini?" he asked hopefully. Quatre frowned at him.
"One more year, Duo," he said sternly. Duo stuck his tongue out at the Arabian and turned back to Aisha.
"Then how about some root beer?" he suggested instead. Giggling, Aisha jotted his order down.
"Water." Heero was looking around the room as he said this, scanning it for anyone acting strangely. Old habits, he thought as he forced himself to look at the menu, are hard to break.
"Hot green tea," Wufei said quietly. His eyes were also roaming the restaurant. Aisha scribbled down his order and looked at Trowa, who waved his hand to decline a drink.
"Harrods, ma'am, if you have it," Quatre ordered politely. Aisha grinned at him.
"Ma'am? Do I really look that old?"
For some reason, Duo found this hysterical. Wufei looked at him, a smirk touching his lips. Two of a feather flapped together, he thought with amusement.
"No, no," Quatre assured her, finally giving a genuine and quite charming smile. "I meant no offence. I just wanted to pay such a pretty lady proper respect."
Duo's jaw dropped. Quatre was flirting! Quatre Raberba Winner, the most refined, elegant, and proper man he'd ever met, and he was making a pretty waitress blush and fumble with her pen. No FAIR! he thought. After all, it was his job to make pretty girls blush.
Aisha beamed at Quatre, still red. "Your order will be right out." Then she scurried away toward the kitchen. The order was snatched from her but she hardly noticed.
"Aish! Gimme a hand with this damn cart! I can't unlock the wheels," Lian Nataku growled, kicking at the said object.
"Lian! Two really hot guys just started flirting with me!" Aisha squealed, bending to flip the lock on the wheels. Lian slid her trays onto the cart and tossed her ebony hair out of her equally ebony eyes.
"That so? Which table?" she asked with interest. Aisha pointed.
"Damn! They're all hot!"
"See!"
"Right, well, enough with the 'hot guys'," came an English voice from behind them. "Why don't you take that cart out to the customers?"
Louie 'O Malley stood slightly in-between the girls, eyebrow lifted. But he was obviously amused and his voice showed it. He had as much bite as a sleeping kitten. Lian and Aisha flashed him innocent, charming smiles and went back to work. Shaking his head, reprimanding himself again for being such a pushover, Louie returned to the kitchen.
Makoto sat in the shadows of the restaurant, gazing at the screen of her borrowed palm pilot. She looked up at a familiar peel of laughter and watched as Angel, who'd been stopped by Aisha, approach the table.
"What was Aisha saying?" she asked as Angel took a seat. The shorter girl laughed again, eyes dancing with mischief.
"Oh, something about two hot guys flirting with her. So, what's up? Any news?" she asked easily.
"Nope. The Gundam pilots continue to elude us," Mako answered. Angel beamed secretively.
"Or not. See those five guys? Zero-one, Heero Yuy, dark brown hair, cobalt eyes. Zero-two, Duo Maxwell, long chestnut braid, indigo eyes. Zero-three, Trowa Barton, light brown hair in a bang over half of his face, jungle green eyes. Zero-five, Chang Wufei, ebony hair and eyes."
"You skipped Zero-four," Mako informed her. Angel's eyes twinkled and she smirked.
"Zero-four, platinum blonde hair, aquamarine eyes . . . Quatre Raberba Winner."
Mako nearly dropped the palm pilot. "Our Quatre?"
Angel nodded. "Our Quatre. Fifteen years later, a bit more mature, but the same one."
"Quatre . . . do you think he knows where Heitai is?"
"Let's find out."