category: Gundam SEED
disclaimer: I don't own it.
notes: Not set in the same universe as STILL POINTS IN TURNING WORLDS. Just to clarify.
Cagalli rushes around the corner and slips into the elevator at the last second.
"Thank you," she pants to the person who had put out a hand and stopped it from closing. Then she catches a glimpse of him from the edge of her vision and wishes she hadn't.
"Of course," Athrun answers affably, but his expression is unreadable.
They stand rigidly and watch the numbers change as the floors pass. Eleven, twelve, sixteen, twenty-two. The silence is suffocating.
x
Distance.
She didn't ask for it, but it works its way between them regardless with the mantras they stick to.
This is how it should be.
The priority for now is reconstruction.
There'll be time for everything else later.
There's no need to rush.
So they live lives that are related but separate, spheres coinciding occasionally in awkward hallway encounters and hastily-scrawled memos sent to each other through assistants.
It's all right like this, they try to tell themselves.
x
Kira and Lacus return to Orb a year after the war, and a week after they're settled in they invite Athrun and Cagalli over to have dinner.
The meal is tense; the conversation stilted. Lacus chatters brightly to fill the gaps and Kira attempts to make light of the situation, but they both observe how forcefully Athrun grasps his silverware and that Cagalli's smile does not extend to her eyes.
Cagalli presses a warm kiss to Lacus's cheek as the night draws to a close. "It's so good to see you again, Lacus! I've missed your cooking terribly." Cagalli's accompanying laugh is well-meaning but hollow. She steps into Kira's embrace affectionately. "You, though...I have to say I haven't missed you at all."
Her brother does not play along with her half-hearted efforts at humor. He squeezes Cagalli tighter and speaks quietly into her hair. "We need to talk."
"I'm fine," she responds after a missed beat. Cagalli pulls herself away and bites the inside of her mouth hard to keep back sudden tears. The coppery taste of blood overwhelms her and she occupies herself with fiddling with her phone. "Where's my driver? I have a meeting at six tomorrow."
"I can drive you back," Athrun offers unexpectedly from the side. All heads turn to him. "We're heading in the same direction," he continues, his voice considerably more detached.
Lacus looks between the two of them worriedly. "You can spend the night here, Cagalli."
Cagalli breathes out steadily. She should accept the ride and be done with it. At the very least it would convince Kira and Lacus she really was okay. "I wish I could, but I should be getting home. I'll head back with Athrun." She shrugs offhandedly and tries not to tremble. "It's not a big deal."
No one knows what to say.
x
Nothing is said the journey home. Athrun keeps his eyes firmly on the road. Cagalli rests her head on her elbow and stares at the dark water and gleaming sand outside her window. If she notices how different Athrun's new car is from the one he had before the second war, she does not comment.
"Thanks for bringing me home."
The goodbye is strange because they hardly had to say it before. They were together all day and every day, and their farewells were simple goodnights, not I-don't-know-when-I'll-see-you-again.
"Yeah. No problem." Athrun watches Cagalli open the door and get out slowly.
She looks at her shoes. The bitter taste of blood is back. "Well, bye."
"Bye."
x
Athrun doesn't know which of them took the very first step away. In the end, it doesn't matter. They still end up in the same tiring limbo.
x
One of Cagalli's secretaries brings her a note on unremarkable white paper. "From Admiral Zala," she comments as she is leaving.
Cagalli isn't sure what to expect as she unfolds the slip. Twenty is far too old for birthdays but she thinks even the briefest of greetings are cheering nonetheless. For the last few years, she and Kira have had a running competition to see who could call the other first precisely at midnight.
Hausen just scheduled an emergency meeting for Thursday morning about the USSA. Will you be able to come?
Athrun's handwriting is precise and crisp and achingly familiar but the words are cold and distant. Cagalli sets the note to the side and manages to clear an entire pile of pending proposals off her desk before burying her head into her arms and crying.
x
Cagalli thinks she is always running to catch this particular elevator.
"Thank you," she says to the other person as the doors shut. It's almost a habit now.
"Of course." Athrun glances over at her, notices the tiredness in her features and the weariness that colors her movements. He wants to tell her to take it easy. Instead, he asks about the ongoing conferences with the Oceania Union.
"They're going well."
Hello. Fine, thank you, and you? That's good to hear. No, I don't think so. Yes, I'll see you then. He and Cagalli have it perfected: this foreign dynamic, this language of strangers, the art of getting by.
They stand rigidly and watch the numbers change as the floors pass. Eleven, twelve, sixteen, twenty-two.
They still love each other – there isn't any doubt about that. (But there's more to commitment than just love.)
The silence is suffocating.
notes: Because I've always wanted to write a piece about Athrun and Cagalli where the ending wasn't about sunshine and sugar frosting and happiness.
I thought I'd have had enough for a while after my spin with SPTW, but I couldn't stay away from writing Gundam SEED after all. (It's funny: I've been going on and on about how lengthy of a journey SPTW was and thank-you-everyone for sticking around for so long, but it actuality it spanned only two and a half months.) But I've found if you don't tackle sudden inspiration soon after it hits you, the spark dies and then it's just the loss of a perfect idea. So ta-da!
Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you thought, please and thank you.