The Messenger
By: Xenos Kadmia
Chapter 2: The Departure and The Arrival
Dearka stood on the civilian's docking bay. He would've taken his machine, it being much faster, plus private, but it would raise too much hell with customs and immigration. He decided he was better off sticking with "inconspicuous."
And what was inconspicuous without a woman to bid thee farewell?
"Your shuttle better come soon, Dearka, I'm tired of seeing your face," Miriallia snapped.
Oh well, Dearka thought, closest thing to heaven as he could get.
"A kiss for the road?" he asked.
"Nice try, hon, but there aren't any roads in space."
You couldn't blame the guy for trying.
"Dearka!"
Dearka turned and saw Athrun running toward him with a bouquet of flowers in hand. If you put it in slow-motion, you could almost imagine a cornfield and a sun setting in the distant horizon. It would be funny if it weren't so gay, Dearka thought.
He chuckled anyway.
"Athrun, I'm so touched," he said, putting a hand over his heart, "but you and me, it can never work."
Athrun looked at his blonde friend with a sort of WTF face.
"These are for Cagalli, you retard. And this too," he said while pulling out a little white envelope from his jacket pocket.
Dearka took the envelope, sniffed it then screamed.
"OMG! A BOMB!!"
Several bystanders turned to stare. Athrun blushed profusely and Dearka chuckled even more. Miriallia, who was a very intelligent woman, was already 10 meters away, in a magazine stand, pretending not to know who that screaming retard was.
"Just kidding, it's all good," Dearka said, addressing the general public.
Athrun sighed. "Can you do me one last favor, Dearka?"
"Sure thing, bud. Anything for a guy in desperate need of some lovin'."
Athrun ignored the last comment and continued, "There's a message in that envelope, if possible, can you read it out loud to her? It just makes it seem more like an ordinary conversation like that."
"If you request made more sense, I would be touched," Dearka said. But before Athrun could punch him, he hastily added "ButI'lldoitanyway.That'swhatfriendsarefor,right?"
The shuttle conductor blew his whistle, signaling that passengers had to board in five minutes.
"Okay, that's it then. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Athrun. Now, please get out of my face, I must say goodbye to my beloved," said Dearka.
"Alright, bye, Dearka, thanks again."
"No problem," Dearka said, then he gave Miriallia, who had returned, a kiss on the lips.
"Another one for the road?" Athrun heard his friend say.
"Keep dreaming, boy," Miriallia replied.
Dearka then boarded the crowded shuttle, passing mothers with little children, some elderly ladies, a group of rowdy teenagers and a guy in serious need of some deodorant. A bunch of weirdoes in every shuttle, Dearka thought. He headed to the least crowded compartment in the first-class section. Hey, it wasn't the Buster, but it was first-class, and they got real meals, not like those poor chaps in economy.
Except for the occasional presence of a waiter, Dearka was left to his lonesome, contemplating on the finer secrets of life, like how to split an atom and how to get Miriallia in a thong.
Two hours later, the shuttle finally landed in Orb.
A somewhat disheveled Dearka stumbled out of the shuttle, luggage in hand. I was crystal clear to anyone above the age of 5 that Dearka was not suited for travel in anything but a Gundam.
After hailing a taxi, Dearka gave directions to the Attha mansion, hoping that Cagalli had some cookies or something in that palace of hers. Hello, after all, what was a palace without Cheetos in 'em?
He knocked on the grand double doors that were big enough for even the Justice to climb through. Then he pressed the doorbell. A lot.
Inside, Cagalli was busy procrastinating when she heard the incessant doorbell that was apparently being pressed by some sort of epileptic.
"Somebody get the door," she said, which was her version of Pink Panther's famous "Ah, the doorbell."
"What's up, girlfriend?"
"Oh my goodness, Dearka, what are you doing here? Get out, NOW."
"Cagalli, honey, is that any way to treat a long lost friend?"
"No, but its how I deal with you."
"I come with good news, it's from Ath-run."
"Fine, I can deal with you for that long, give it here."
Dearka handed her the bouquet while Cagalli ordered the maid to prepare some coffee and biscuits for the guest.
"Okay, Dearka, you're here, what is it?"
"Demanding aren't you? Can't a tired traveler get any good grub around here without any demanding nit-picks breathing down his neck?"
Had this story been "manga-ifed," one might see Cagalli Yula Attha in one panel with demonish red eyes numerous veins on her forehead, and a random volcano in the background.
But, it's not, so there she was sitting as pretty as ever.
Nevertheless, she was hella close to getting out an AK-47 or something that can blow chunks of Dearka's brains out in two seconds flat.
"Your coffee and biscuits, ma'am," the maid said as she came in as serenely as she was trained, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee, condiments, and a three tier platter of biscuits, scones, and other pastries.
Maids, honestly, it could've been Bloody Valentine all over again, and she would still ask you if you wanted one sugar or two.
"Yum," was all Dearka could bring himself to say before he wolfed down everything edible, all manners forgotten.
"So, about Athrun's letter, Dearka, where is it?" Cagalli asked.
"Pffh, cha, aouut ha…" Dearka said. It may sound Russian but his mouth was full, and translated, he really said "Yeah, about that…"
"English, please, Dearka, I don't speak Weird and Perverted," Cagalli said, all sarcasm intended.
"Coming from you," Dearka said, swallowing, "that's an honor."
"Right, down to business," he continued, "Athrun said he wanted me to read the letter out loud to you."
"Why?" Cagalli interrupted.
Miffed, Dearka replied, "Because your boyfriend's a RETARD."
One look at Cagalli's face told Dearka that he better get to the letter fast, or his perfect schnoz would go two dimensional.
"Anyway," he said, clearing his throat, "here it goes. Dear, no, scratch that, Cagalli, it's been quite, or is that quit? Gosh, Cagalli, your boyfriend has terrible handwriting; you should sign him up for, like, calligraphy lessons or something."
"Letter," she demanded, then literally shoved his nose into the paper.
"Yes ma'am. It says…I just want you to know there is…someone else other than you in my life. I hope you understand that. Meyrin is taking care of me just fine, just so you know, so you don't have to worry about me. I hope you can meet me in front of April Café, for the last time. I'll miss you a lot, now that you're not in my life. Love, Athrun."
Cagalli just sat and gaped at Dearka's broken reading. All she could bring herself to do was to stare and stare at that paper. Dearka looked at her, also seeing the letter for the first time and watched her plan her first move.
But she just stared.
And stared.
And stared.
Dearka thought she would cry, but no, instead she got up, and snatched the letter from Dearka's hands. She read the letter for herself, and what Dearka read was, indeed, true. Athrun's handwriting was crap, yeah, but Cagalli would fix that.
When she was done with him, Athrun wouldn't even have a hand to write with.
Not a real one, anyway.
