Back to Reality
Notes from me: Alright, to start with, I'm sorry these next two chapters took longer than my others to get up, but they were actually beta'd. Yey!! I'd very much like to thank jeangreymullinsjr. for doing the job and the support. : ) Also, for anyone who pays attention to detail, I made Trowa two years older than the other pilots. I have no real reason for doing this other than the fact that I always thought Trowa was a bit older than the others and there is a debate on weather he was born in the year AC 180 just like the others or in AC 178. To my knowledge, the creators have not definitively stated one way or the other on the matter (but, I could very well be wrong). Either way, I'm taking some artistic liberty in the matter so don't bite my head off.
Chapter 3
Quatre Raberba Winner was in Advanced Calculus. And he was bored. Only half listening to the professor's lecture, his mind traveled lazily about in a desperate attempt to not fall asleep. The professor was a kind man in his mid-to-late forties with wire rimmed glasses and wore the same suite religiously. He loved his job and took the extra time and effort in order for his students to succeed. The blonde youth admired his dedication and genuinely liked the man. Unfortunately though, just like the stereotypical teacher, his voice simply droned on and on and on. Quatre had caught even some of his most studious 4.0 classmates nodding off on occasion.
The atmosphere in the room didn't help either. The small classroom was one of the oldest in this particular wing of the school, permeating the air with an old book and chalkboard smell. Thanks to the brilliantly azure blue sky hardly dotted with clouds, the class had unanimously elected to turn the artificial lights in the room off, allowing for a more natural study environment. The result was a slightly darker room, though still well lit, that only enhanced the sleepiness Quatre was already feeling. The windows were open, but on this side of the building the classrooms rarely caught a breeze, also adding to his discomfort.
Overall, Quatre disliked almost everything about this class and the fact that he could take the semester's final in his sleep and surely receive an excellent score yet couldn't test out of the class annoyed him considerably. Unconsciously tapping his fingers on the small, heartlessly cold metallic desk, Quatre resigned himself to watch the clock slowly tick closer and closer to his freedom.
Quatre's salvation came in the form of the school bell clamoring out in the hall. Deftly scooping up his things and unceremoniously dumping them in his bag, Quatre practically leapt out of his chair and into the hall. He hadn't been the only one either. In the mere seconds it had taken him to exit Advanced Calculus the whole hallway had become congested with bodies.
Most of the students were making their way to another class, pushing and shoving their way between open lockers, peers and every now and then, a teacher. Quatre was patient however. He was not going to another class, but to lunch period and therefore had a little more leeway time for travel. By the time he had gotten through the laboriously slow food court line Todd, Jaime, Thomas, and Suzzie were all seated at a round table situated near one of the TVs continuously looping the world news. Its focus, unsurprisingly, was the brimming conflict between the ESUN and the Republic of Eurussia.
He took a seat across from Todd and Jaime to sit in between the other two. It hadn't escaped his notice as he approached that Todd and Jaime were holding hands under the table. The blonde Arabian caught Thomas' gaze and raised a questioning eyebrow while ever so discreetly inclining his head in the pair's direction. The darker haired boy shrugged in response, giving Quatre a look that told him he really shouldn't be surprised.
"So, how was calculus?" teased Jaime, smiling as she bit into a delicious looking strawberry then breaking into delighted laughter in response to Quatre's baleful glare. "Oh, come on. He's not that bad is he?" she asked.
"Yes. He is." Quatre replied in a dead pan voice. "I'm shocked I'm not catatonic out of boredom."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic Quatre. He's not really as bad as you make him sound. You're scaring the less intelligent children over there from educating themselves further," chastised Thomas as he began reading a book while he ate his sandwich.
"Gee, thanks Thomas!" Suzzie quipped in sarcastically. "Good to know that you think the rest of us are idiots." Thomas shrugged, a smirk playing across his face.
"You had Mr. Zeleski last year, Thomas. You know damn well how bad he is" argued Quatre. It was an argument everyone had heard a dozen times already and Quatre decided to change the subject. "Did anyone watch the news this morning?" he asked, half expecting the answer.
"You know we don't get up early enough to watch TV in the morning," whined Todd, finally speaking up and acting as if his classmate had just asked him if he had read the dictionary front to back. "Really, its bad enough we have to be in class at eight."
Thomas looked up sharply from his lunch, his facial features hardening into a scowl and his brows knitted together menacingly as he gave the athlete a withering look. "You should," he said angrily. "Have you ever thought that things actually happen outside of this school? Meaningful things?" Quatre leaned sideways a little, in order to get a better view of his friend. The dark haired senior just didn't get this upset about anything. Quatre knew that Thomas was just as concerned about worldly politics as he was himself, but this sort of reaction was completely unexpected from the usually reserved young man. "Get your head out of your ass Marks and take a look around! The world is tearing apart all over again, we're on the precipice of disaster and war's almost inevitable now," he spat crossly. Despite his friend's sudden ire, Quatre couldn't help but think it just like Thomas to use a word that Todd didn't know against him.
Their table was quiet for a moment and it seemed as if all the noise had faded from the room, despite the fifty plus loud, obnoxious teenagers fighting to be heard over each other. Everyone at their table looked dumbfounded at Thomas. The glare he was giving Todd promised physical injury, if not death, if his ignorant friend said something else to set him off. "Easy Thomas," said Suzzie, her eyes wide in shock at Thomas' outburst. "He's a jock. You have to understand that his brain is the size of a peanut. You can't expect him to come to any sort of meaningful conclusions on his own." Her voice was joking as she attempted to calm her visibly upset friend. It seemed to have worked. Thomas' facial features, softened. His eyebrows eased back into their normal position and his scowl had receded to a thin line, creating a less menacing visage but still showed his annoyance toward Todd.
The mood around the table had lifted ever so slightly, but for only a moment. "Are we really going to war?" asked Jaime, a faint tremble in her voice as she looked at Thomas. "Again? I mean, I don't know what I expected when the Republic announced their secession, but certainly not a war."
"Bank on it," replied Quatre darkly. All eyes turned to him. "When the Republic at least kept quiet about their possession of armaments there was a chance for both entities to try to coexist. The big problem is the Republic actually wants a war by the looks of it, which is a little surprising and a little not at the same time. I would have thought they would have solidified themselves more before taking such a drastic action. The Republic is quite large and getting all of those people united can't be an easy task," explained Quatre, looking down at his plate and unsuccessfully trying to stab a little baby tomato in his salad.
"However," he continued, "it was their decision to confess to having mobile suites, which worries me. And the media wouldn't be far off the mark in venturing that they included Taurus and Aries suites. Both are common and easily capable of fighting on Earth or in space. And to make it all worse, the ESUN honestly doesn't know what to do about it. They aren't prepared for this sort of thing. No one even thought that anyone would want to secede so soon after the Mariemaia Incident. But now that it's happened they don't want to make the first attack and look like dictators to the, quite frankly, mostly ill-informed public. At the same time they can't afford to just roll over and let the Republic do whatever they want. Such a move would endanger the strength and abilities of the ESUN." Quatre closed his eyes and sighed, running a hand through his golden hair and muttered "We're practically right back where we started."
Quatre tore his gaze up from his food tray and into four pairs of eyes staring at him. The expressions facing him revealed that most of them were dumbfounded, except Thomas, who had a curious yet concerned look upon his face. The blonde could feel the other boy's emotions roll off of him. Quatre bit his lip anxiously as he realized he had divulged information on mobile suites that most civilians didn't particularly know about. No one else seemed to notice however and thankfully Thomas let the matter drop. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Thomas pondered out loud, still watching Quatre with a contemplative look playing about his face, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that had just mysteriously sprouted a new piece that didn't quite fit with the rest.
"Okay," Todd said rather loudly, "Enough on scary - depressing topics." The wrestler turned toward the two girls sitting beside him, promptly ignoring Thomas and Quatre. "Did you see how short Cassidy Riley's skirt is today? I'm shocked the headmaster hasn't had her in his office yet."
Quatre shook his head in submission as he watched the others begin conversing about such mundane things. Obviously they were even less understanding of the state of the world than he had given them credit for. Thomas was right. They were on the brink of war and Quatre had to wonder. Did the people really care?
The rest of his day went by uneventfully. There was hardly any more talk of civil unrest, politics, or impending wars and, considering the state of things, that worried Quatre. It made him wonder if most people his age were blissfully ignorant to what was going on. He wasn't used to people brushing aside talk of war as if they were merely sweeping dirt under a rug. Sometimes he just wanted to slap them, shake them, or do something to make them understand the reality of the situation. Geographically, Wilmington was not all that far from the Republic of Eurussia's border and the public's oblivious behavior towards that fact only increased his concern.
His dark mood from lunch had stayed with him throughout the day, his friends finding him a downer to conversation whenever they were able to coerce a response from the brooding blonde and had eventually just left him alone. That suited him fine. Mrs. Jemison's ten page essay was not a high concern on his priority list at the moment.
By the time his final class period arrived the breeze outside had picked up and Quatre found himself looking out the window, watching the trees dance gently with the wind, his mind wandering for the second time that day. The sight put his tumultuous thoughts to ease.
His reverie was interrupted by the voice of a fellow student responding to a prompt from the professor and made him jump slightly in his seat, effectively reminding him that he probably should be paying attention. Tearing his eyes away from the trees and focusing once again on the lecture, Quatre sighed silently to himself. His effort to concentrate on class was only half hearted though and, as a result, his attention didn't last long. The youth found himself gazing, once again, absently out through the window again. This time, something interesting caught his eye.
A tall, slender youth, roughly about Quatre's age was leaning casually, arms folded across his chest, against a lime green and charcoal black ninja motorcycle that was parked just outside the closed school gates. Quatre would have recognized him even without his trademark hair that covered a good half of his expressionless face. And he was staring right at Quatre. The blonde smiled.
Normal life had just gotten a whole lot better.
The corner of his mouth turned up in an almost imperceptible grin as he caught sight of the blue eyed blonde exiting the school along with an easy three hundred others. Quatre Raberba Winner had spotted the taller ex-gundam pilot from his classroom before the bell had rung and when the doors opened, effectively setting loose a small army of pent up teenagers, Trowa easily recognized the blonde making an expected b-line for him. A smile plastered on his face. The tall youth's heart skipped a beat. He had missed that smile.
A part Trowa's brain registered a small group of classmates that had gathered in a circle on the lawn. Three young girls sprawled across the carefully manicured green, laughing and gossiping with the three boys who stood behind them. Spying their friend in the crowd moving away from them, they called out to the blonde, still smiling and laughing at something Trowa didn't catch. Quatre either ignored them or didn't hear because he just kept walking, never taking his eyes off the brown haired boy. He stopped only two steps away and Trowa was conscious of Quatre's critical eyes studying him.
Up close the difference a year had made was apparent. When the two had originally met (and even up to the end of the war with the colonies) Quatre, at first appearance outside of his mobile suite, had given the impression of a spoiled upper class child used to having things simply handed to him.
Now, however, he looked totally different. The blonde was no longer cherubic in appearance, but leaner and stronger. His facial features had slimmed, becoming more defined and mature. Trowa was sure the rest of him had done the same as well. The blonde was also a good deal taller than he had been. His posture, which had always given away his high class upbringing, had an element of casual confidence to it.
For all the changes in his physical appearance, he was still the same Quatre. Those exquisite blue eyes sparkled just as brightly as they always had and his smile was even more welcoming than he remembered. Trowa's heart skipped a beat and he fought to keep his breathing normal, his face expressionless. Quatre had always held a power over him, but he hadn't expected reuniting with the blonde to have this strong of an affect on him. He simply didn't know how to handle it, so for the time being he kept his feelings to himself.
Quatre stared up into the deep green eyes currently sizing him up. The young aristocrat knew he was easy on the eyes (mostly because Maria wouldn't let him forget the fact, much to his embarrassment) but usually didn't give much thought to how he looked amongst his peers. However, under Trowa's scrutinizing assessment, Quatre feared himself rather inadequate. His friend, on the other hand, was just as attractive as ever. The blonde couldn't help himself as his eyes took his friend in.
Trowa was still taller than Quatre, probably getting close to six feet by the blonde's estimation, and still muscularly slender and willowy in appearance. He was dressed, as always, in a forest green turtle neck sweater and jeans, his casual stance against the bike belied his constantly alert nature. The tall Latin still had the same eyes, a deep green that expressed more emotion than the rest of his body combined. His hair, though still the same brown and worn in the exact same way, sported subtle streaks of a lighter caramel brown. Most likely a result of spending so much more time outside in the sun on the Earth working at the circus rather than staying predominantly inside large military bases and fighting in mobile suites.
Different, yet the same. A thought no doubt shared by the other, he was sure. Quatre's eyes glittered in mirth as he brought his eyes back up to Trowa's, which currently showed no other emotion besides calm interest. It was Trowa who spoke first. "You got taller," he said simply. A hint of a grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.
Quatre couldn't help but laugh. "Hello, Trowa" he replied pleasantly. "It's been almost a year and that's the best you can do?" The question held a playful tease to it and Trowa only grinned in response. The brunette uncrossed his arms, nonchalantly holding a helmet that had been hidden behind his back out toward the smaller blonde from his left hand. Quatre smiled again, he just couldn't help it around Trowa, taking the helmet enthusiastically.
Trowa stood up fully and positioned himself on the bike as Quatre donned the protective equipment. "Your friends seem a little upset," he noted over the noise as the engine roared to life, and looking at the obviously stunned group of six. Quatre glanced over to his clique. Their shocked expressions almost made him laugh.
"They'll live," came the response in his ear, barely loud enough to be heard over the motorbike. Smiling in earnest now, Trowa revved up the bike just for show before pulling away from the sidewalk and taking off into town.