"Wow,"
Cagalli did not expect company so early in the morning. She spared a tired glance towards the familiar voice because she had not heard it in a while.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks."
She wasn't sure how to interpret the unexpected concern from an estranged friend. Her eyes shifted between the lesson plan she was writing and the grace of Miriallia's movements across the office. Cagalli found herself absently wondering if Audrey's hair was the brown of Miriallia's or the gold of her own. The rattling of pills distracted her as a bottle of painkillers was clumsily set on the edge of her desk.
"My grocery bags look smaller than the circles around your eyes." Miriallia's voice was harsh and disapproving when Cagalli needed soft and comforting. Aggravation collected inside her as the brunette was judging her for partying on a school night.
"This room has harsh lighting." The blonde bit back tersely.
"Not harsh enough to justify your good night. Shouldn't you know better than to get drunk on a weeknight?"
"High criticism from you." Cagalli's words cut through Miriallia, as she'd wanted them to, instantly regretting her decision.
Miriallia sighed at the emptiness expanding within her. "Deliberate cruelty is unbecoming on you Cagalli. It always has been."
Cagalli knew, despite their falling out, that Miriallia went down a dark path with alcohol as she tried to recover from losing Tolle. It probably didn't help her situation much that she pushed away the only real friend she had at the time. Cagalli could see the remorse for poor judgement in Miriallia's eyes but couldn't see a way to bridge the wide distance between them.
"Thanks," she said with a quick gesture towards the modest bottle of painkillers. "I'll put it on your desk after I'm done."
"Sure," Miriallia offered a smile, "Hope it was worth the pain."
Cagalli couldn't help her tired chuckle and Miriallia picked up on the irony in her laughter. The blonde returned to covering the blank spaces on her lesson plan with forced calligraphy. Her penmanship flowed beautifully, like lines of art. Today, it compensated for the lack of substance in her lesson plan. Rare was the day when she was challenged to pull together an ESL lesson.
Her thoughts, or lack thereof, were interrupted by a knock on the door. Miriallia opened the door to Rika, promptly leaving to accommodate her request for a private meeting with Cagalli.
"Woah, Miss C. Looks like you had a fun night," she greeted, taking a seat across Cagalli's desk. A leather-bound journal was tucked between her fingers. Cagalli couldn't help but notice the seductive bounce of Rika skirt as she moved and wondered how a child so young could harbour a succubus.
"It wasn't as fun as it looks," she admitted with honesty rare to the teacher-student relationship.
"Show me your hand." Rika laid the journal on, gesturing for Cagalli to place her hand in her open-faced palm. Hesitantly, Cagalli obliged. Rika scrutinized the back of her hand momentarily, returning it before rummaging through her tote. "We shade match surprisingly well. Let me fix your face."
"What're you here for?" Cagalli asked, reeling the conversation back on track. Familiar with Rika's purposeful lack of delicacy, she chose not to preach civility this morning.
Rika moved her chair over to Cagalli's, a cosmetics pouch much too mature for her age in tow. She spoke as she worked. "I think one of my girls is in trouble and I couldn't think of anyone else to go to. I was wondering if I could talk to you about it."
"Your girls?"
"I'd rather not say who yet, since I'm not really sure of myself."
"Okay." Cagalli flinched at the frigidity of the foundation Rika was spraying on her face.
"An older man is being indulged and he frightens me."
"What older man?" Cagalli's concern was piqued for Rika didn't seem like a girl who scared easy or flippantly took up concern for others from pedantic motives like boredom.
"Looks to be in his late twenties and totally gives of a deadbeat vibe. He doesn't even have bad boy charm. He seems like a sketchy pervert and I find him positively repulsive."
"Your friend can do better."
"That goes without saying. And, I know she's too prude to put out."
Cagalli immediately knew which friend she was referring to. "Why is she seeing this guy anyway?"
"To spite her parents. They've pretty much locked her into an all girls University, which doesn't have the specific program of study she wants to pursue."
"That's unfortunate."
Rika worked in silence as she collected her thoughts. "I'm concerned he's, uh,"
"Going to take what he wants?"
"I wonder if it's my fault," she asked in a moment of cautious vulnerability.
Cagalli raised an eyebrow and Rika immediately chided her because it almost destroyed a line she was attempting to draw.
"All girls Universities are a pretty drastic step. She was so conservative until she joined our circle. To me she's still practically a nun, but you know how parents can be."
"I have some experience with them," she said in an attempt at humour. When it failed, she continued without hesitation, "So, as the Queen Bee, you feel personally responsible for the punishment her parents are inflicting?"
"And if it wasn't for that prospect, she'd never do something as stupid as entertain a low-life like… I don't even know his name."
"Well, I don't think it's your fault, but if we consider for a moment that it is, you can't undo your friendship. What are your other options?"
"Murder?"
"I can sympathize, but I'd advise against it."
"I don't know Miss C., prison might be fun."
"I have no doubt that you can survive prison, but there are people here who will miss you. I know I will."
Rika blushed, dabbing the slightest hint of pink blush on Cagalli's cheeks. "I wrote something pretty violent last night. I wonder if you'd have a look and let me know if it's too much for my end term novella."
"Do I need to worry about your homicidal intentions?"
"Nah, I'm not going to kill anyone," Rika responded with a laugh.
"About your friend," Cagalli was interrupted by Miriallia's knock at the door.
"Ms. Boudazza just pulled into the parking lot," she warned the pair.
"Miss Haw, what would you do if you had a friend who was blindly putting herself in harm's way despite its obviousness?"
With one look at Rika, Miriallia understood that Cagalli was asking her not to cruelly harp on their past, but to gain first hand perspective on a delicate situation. "I would tell her the harsh truth, even if she didn't want to hear it. She'll resent it at first, and maybe for a long time. But in the long term, if she's important to you, it's more noble to sacrifice a close friendship in attempts to protect your friend than to allow her to continue unhindered and alone down a dark road."
Her response surprised Cagalli. Rika asked the pointed question that was on her mind. "And what if she chooses to sever the relationship?"
"You can only do your best." Miriallia reassured with a smile. "If you're looking out for her, even if you break-up, there is hope that you can reconcile. At least that's what I hope for."
Rika looked pensive for a moment before fishing out a miniature tube of mascara from her cosmetic's pouch. "Thanks Miss Haw. Miss C., three coats of this before class, okay? Let it dry between coats."
Cagalli nodded and watched her student depart quickly. The rest of her day seemed to disappear as quickly as the mesmerizing sway of Rika's hemline.
"You've been ignoring him," was the next thing Cagalli registered. It was Seiichi's voice over 24 hours after her talk with Rika. She absently wondered what was happening with Charlotte, Rika's friend, hoping they would find a better fate than Miriallia and she did.
"Hmm?" Time seemed to skip by Cagalli, as though they were engaged in a game of hide and seek.
"Athrun," Seiichi held out the brightly backlit screen of his phone to her, "He says he can't get a hold of you."
Cagalli dismissed the screen without reading its contents. "I've been busy."
"Do you want to talk about the things keeping you busy?" Cagalli shook her head. Seiichi couldn't place any troubling symptoms on her. She seemed calm and, in a strange way, satisfied as though she'd indulged a craving and it was time to get back to her routine diet. "Class B+, Love life C-. You should stop ignoring him. He has no idea what he did wrong."
"He didn't do anything wrong."
"Girls don't ignore boys for no reason Cagalli."
"That's Miss Yula, and if you don't mind I'd like to start my next class."
Seiichi filed into his seat with the last of the students entering the class. He watched as Cagalli examined two of his classmates. He recognized them as Rika and Charlotte. The air between them was frigid and their mutual friends struggled with palpable animosity between them. He turned his attention to the message on his phone Cagalli had duly ignored.
Hey, Is everything ok with C? She's MIA.
He typed a brief response before pocketing his phone and returning his attention to Cagalli's lesson.
She may be preoccupied with some students. But, you sure you didn't do anything wrong?
Athrun's phone was connected to his Mobile Suit simulation module. He stared at the message on his screen, trying to recollect his last interaction with Cagalli. To his memory, he had played the gentleman, walking her down to the car and ensuring the chauffeur knew where to take her. Dearka landed a hard strike to his left shoulder.
"I can't believe they let a space case like you pilot one of the best Mobile Suits in the known universe," Yzak's voice taunted over the scratchy static of the radio.
"Athrun," Kira's voice called out, the solicitude apparent, "Is everything okay?"
Athrun set aside his concerns, broadcasting an apology across the radio before employing a counterattack against Dearka. He rarely understood why Yzak and Dearka insisted on pairing up so often against Kira and him, given the stark difference in technical capabilities between their Mobile Suits. But these simulation exercises, which evened the playing field, showed just how quickly their strategy and teamwork improved to compensate for the technological disadvantage. They fought relentlessly for another hour before Kira was summoned away from his post.
"You guys are dangerously close to the reckless effectiveness of those deranged super-soldiers we trained against last year," Athrun complimented as they exited the simulation laboratory.
"The ones that were experimented on?" Yzak asked for clarification. Athrun could sense the pride he took in mimicking the reckless instability of medically manipulated soldiers who were most likely on a psychotic break.
"We should have reported them when we had the chance," Dearka said with remorse as they entered the cafeteria.
"I did, but it didn't go anywhere for political reasons."
Neither Dearka nor Yzak looked surprise at that reality. Military ambitions and concerns were often filtered and stifled by politics. It was easier to understand some days than it was on others.
"Any plans for tonight?" Yzak directed towards Dearka. The first signs of hunger settled in his stomach, making him think about dinner.
"I was thinking about dropping by Nicol's this evening," the blond responded, reminding his colleagues that they had missed the anniversary of his death the previous month and owed him a visit.
"We should stop by the florist and pick up some orchids. They're in season," Athrun suggested, his colleagues concurring.
"Will Cagalli come?" Yzak asked.
Athrun pursed his lips. Yzak didn't remember much from his night with Cagalli. He barely remembered answering Athrun's call early in the night, and definitely did not remember talking to Cagalli about anything other than the superiority of vodka over tequila. It annoyed Athrun that he had no way of determining how to mitigate any damage Yzak may have caused with Cagalli.
"Well, it's a pretty personal thing for us," Dearka interjected, saving Athrun the trouble of having to fabricate an excuse, who silently thanked the blond before taking a moment to return Seiichi's message.
I'm at a loss. Maybe you can find out. I'll owe you one.
A sly smile broke out across Seiichi's face. He excused himself from the crowd he was lunching with, quickly making his way to English office. Collecting a debt from Athrun would surely prove to be either entertaining or invaluable.
Cagalli answered his knock, and upon recognizing the mischievousness lurking behind his poorly constructed façade, said "No."
"You have no idea what I'm going to ask," he insisted.
"Athrun championed you to find out why I'm not responding to him," she filled in the blanks much to his chagrin. "It's quite obvious."
"Where are all the teachers?"
"Out to lunch."
"… Can I ask for help on a homework assignment?"
Cagalli smiled, skirting softly past menace. It sent a chill down Seiichi's spine.
"You know what," he began his retraction, "let me think about it a little more."
"Sounds like a good plan."
She closed the door to the office before Seiichi had the opportunity to leave.
"Boy trouble?" Miriallia's quiet curiosity sailed across the room cautiously.
"It's nothing important," Cagalli waved off returning to her desk.
Miriallia broke the ringing silence after a few tense minutes had passed. "You think we'll every get back together again?"
"What?" The question took Cagalli by surprise as did the tension between them. When they first fell out, their days would burst at the seams from the tension of their proximity. However, the passage of time eroded their closeness into the meaningless niceties of colleagues. Tension had not existed between them for over a year.
"There used to be a time when you could talk to me about anything." Miriallia pushed forwardly.
Cagalli chuckled with derision. "I can't believe you have the audacity to say that to me."
"You're probably right," Miriallia reflected. A pause brimming with awkwardness punctuated her abrupt attempt at a conversation.
Cagalli returned to her scribbling, aware of Miriallia's eyes watching her. She hadn't the energy for compassion or understanding; she'd exhausted her capacity for it with Yzak two nights ago. Flashes of the morbidly melancholy moments of her past haunted her as she tried to focus on the work sprawled before her. The termination of her sisterly bond with Miriallia had been explosive, reaching nuclear proportions, and had left her fractured. She resented Miriallia most for leaving her to traverse the final moments of her first love and the months of bitter solitude that followed alone.
"I miss you," Miriallia confessed with strains of frustration and loneliness.
Cagalli dropped her pen. "You'll never know me the way you used to."
"Neither will you,"
"But that's your fault."
"I'm sorry."
They maintained a taut silence between them.
"Mostly for stealing your faith in people and your incredible capacity to trust."
Cagalli did not expect Miriallia to explicitly assume blame for the motives behind her grudges. After the one-two punch of losing the two most important people in her life in relatively short succession, she hesitated in allowing people to become important to her. She cluttered her social life with transients, investing herself into her students who would move on after classes and semesters. She built solitude into strength and loneliness into independence.
"I tried – so much – to hate you. But I couldn't bring myself to it."
Miriallia smiled with the compassion of a mother to her child.
"I even hung onto our picture." Cagalli punctuated her statement with a self-deprecating chuckle. She fished out a business card from her wallet. The edges of the card framed an aged photograph of the two women when they were mere girls at nineteen. Edwardian calligraphy scripted the name of lounge across the back: Celeste's.
"This one?" Miriallia held up an identical copy of the business card.
"You too?"
"Celeste's is our happy reel. No matter how bad things got, it was always a portal to a great night."
"That it was. Those walls know all our secrets from 17 to 22." Miriallia found Cagalli's genuine smile nostalgic.
"We could see if it still works." She suggested cautiously. "Tonight?"
Cagalli's apprehension silently carried them till the chatter of their colleagues filled the room as they did. Both women returned to preparing for afternoon classes, leaving their conversation unfinished. Miriallia found a note stuck to her desk at the end of the day.
Front door, 7 pm.
"Seriously girls, this is pitiful." The velvety voice belonged to a dark-skinned minx who perched over their table. A long slender cigarette holder was wrapped in her delicate hands. Her nails caught and released light like diamonds would.
"Celeste!" Cagalli leapt to her feet, diving into the sophisticated woman's embrace.
"Now, imagine my surprise when my son mentioned my two favourite girls were alive and well, and back!" She spoke in a manner that mesmerized her listeners. The two women, like most others, were drawn into her voice like light into a black hole. "So I come by to have a drink with my girls and what do I find? The foul taste of pretence in the air. I'm thoroughly disappointed."
Miriallia stood on the sidelines through the chiding, while Cagalli sunk into the namesake's slender arms.
"I believe I deserve better after the extended hiatus you've already subjected me to." She returned Cagalli to her seat and took one of her own. "So, what's going on here?"
Celeste spoke with her hand, her stick-thin fingers like the puppet masters to her words. Her lips were drawn in the a shade of red that was exclusively hers. Her hair was gathered in dark curls towards her right ear, an iridescent headband decorating it. The bodice of her dress hugged her compact torso, a plunging neckline showing off her delicate décolletage.
"You don't age, Celeste," Cagalli said with envy and Miriallia's concurrence.
"It's because I don't let the petty things settle in my skin. Not like the pair of you. You look like a decade has passed you by. Where are the exuberant and charmingly innocent blonde, and the contemplative yet cheerful brunette?"
"Well," Cagalli and Miriallia shared a sheepish look, unsure of how to explain everything between them over one drink.
"I demand an encore of the best friends."
"It's not that simple," Cagalli started.
"She's right," Miriallia confirmed when the woman looked her way with a perfectly arched eyebrow. "I made every effort to ensure she would never make the mistake of coming back to me. And then I left her to fend for herself in what was probably the most difficult time of her life."
"Oh, what, that's it?" Celeste leaned into the back of her chair.
"It's tough to bounce back from feeling betrayed," Cagalli rationalized.
"My, you girls have such a flair for drama. You know a movie titled 'The Lion King'?" They nodded. "Well, remember that scene with the wise monkey?"
"The crazy one?"
"There is only one monkey."
"While the comedic banter is charming, I'd like to emphasize a point." They listened, intently, the scrutiny making them uncomfortable. "You're learning the wrong lesson from your past," she pointed at Cagalli, before turning her finger to Miriallia, "And you're not fighting nearly hard enough to reclaim your precious lost treasure."
Cagalli blushed at the analogy drawing her as pirate's gold. Neither interjected, despite their habits, for Celeste commanded the authority of a revered General leading troops into war. She certainly didn't pamper the girls with maternal softness.
"Now, you girls are tiptoeing around eggshells and seem to need a bit of a kick in the pants. Let's not discuss the vulgarities of which side of the pants you need a desperate kicking in, but have you really been so blinded by your selfish pains that you can't see, my dear Chilli, that Coco here did not betray you? She merely got stupidly tangled in her cycle of self-pity and loathing that she temporarily lost about 40 points off her IQ. And most of her courage it would seem," Celeste schooled them like a disappointed teacher; a position neither had been in since graduating high school.
"And Coco, darling, we all make mistakes, dire ones even. Most of us don't know how to apologize for them either. But you, you have the good fortune of common sense. How long is it going to take you to conclude that if you had it in you to completely shatter one of the best things you ever had, you probably possess the patience to piece it back together?"
Cagalli and Miriallia weren't sure what surprised them more: that the complex nuances of their fall out were being laid out with the ease of a butler setting the table for dinner by someone who hadn't been told the tedious story, or the unfamiliar sound of their college nicknames.
"I haven't been called Coco since… the last time I was here actually." Miriallia broke the comical silence without answering the question, absorbing it for it's rhetorical value.
"Oh, you mean it isn't your real name?" Celeste teased her with hints of rare sarcasm flavouring her words.
Miriallia blushed, a memory of her first night in the lounge flooding her. Cagalli and her were lost on their way to a used bookstore. They had decided that that afternoon would be best spent fishing through the dusty racks of a near abandoned bookstore for interesting first editions of tomes no one cared about anymore. On that particularly sunny day, when they were on the cusp of Autumn, it seemed like the perfect wild adventure for the intellectual pair who were worn thin from the company of stereotypical college freshmen. They embarked on their quest without technology, armed with nothing but a street map and their wit. It wasn't long before they realized that the bookstore they sought had either closed its door for the rest of time or was inconveniently situated between street signs in a magic realm of wizardry.
They had heard Celeste's before they'd laid eyes on her incognito yet enigmatic signage. Soft jazz from a lone saxophone seduced them towards the large door, which managed to remain invisible to the busy streetwalkers as they ushered onto the next accomplishment in their life. It was impossible to ignore the allure of the lounge after spotting it. The bouncer at the door, styled like a councilman's bodyguard, silently told Cagalli and Mirialla that they were too young to be patrons at the lounge. It was in that moment that both freshmen decided that the pursuit for false driver's licenses would be far more interesting than their scavenger hunt for neglected literature.
The skilled forger offered them the opportunity to completely reinvent themselves with new names. Cagalli had chosen Coco for Miriallia because of her infatuation with Coco Chanel and the timeless chic she immortalized. Cagalli's moniker was born from Miriallia's spontaneous determination that repeating "Chili" repeated while intoxicated would be most amusing. They spent the week it took creating their new identities shopping for Coco's sophistication and Chili's sass, carving out corners of their small closets for their alter egos. It was under the guise of these names that they'd met Celeste, and she did not know them by their real names since.
Cagalli laughed, as the pair concluded their reminiscence in timely synchronization. "I guess we forgot about Coco and Chili."
"Mmhm," Miriallia agreed, the memory bringing a happy smile to her face.
"I could tell. For heaven's sake, you actually came to my house wearing denim. Had I not been so disappointed with the melodrama between the pair of you, I'd have schooled you for your poor taste in attire." Her eyes did not hide her disdain for denim as they skirted each girl's wardrobe choices. Neither had changed out of their work wear. "Now, I'll leave whoever the lot of you are to fix whatever it is that is broken. But, I expect to spend a nice night catch up with my girls over extravagant cocktails tomorrow."
Celeste never made requests, as she did not this time. She left expectations.
"Can you believe how easily she reduced everything we've been through into a series of trivial conclusions?" Cagalli's voice held disbelief and awe.
"She isn't wrong, you know, at least not for my side of the story. I did make an incredibly stupid decision when I turned on you and then never really put a wholehearted effort into mending the damage. I could have, but I didn't."
"Now, I feel silly for making such a big deal about it all."
"It was a big deal. If the roles were reversed, it would be a huge deal to me."
"I still want to spite you for petty revenge."
"That is silly but I can't find it in myself to blame you for it."
"I didn't even realize that you had it in you to be that awful."
"To be honest, neither did I. I think the embarrassment of it was what kept me from reaching out to you."
"This conversation is so corny it making me embarrassed."
"You never really handled the authentically emotional situations well."
"Last I checked, neither did you. This is a new Miriallia who can navigate this conversation so gracefully." Cagalli averted her eyes, blushing at the discomfort of the heartfelt conversation.
"Yeah, therapy can do that."
"You're in therapy?"
"I was for over a year. I pretty much went everyday for a few months. I started a couple of months after the last time we talked. It was actually Rika who found me on a night no student should have seen me. We drank together talking about utter nonsense and at the end of the night when she poured me into a taxi she gave me a psychologist's business card."
"Rika's in therapy?"
Miriallia smiled at how attentive Cagalli was when it came to her students. "I'm pretty sure she was seeing him in a different way than I was."
Cagalli eyebrow arched automatically. Miriallia cut her off before she made the right conclusions.
"Yeah," she confirmed, "she knew what she was doing. He had no idea how young she was. But she was more pulled together than I was, so it wasn't my place to provide unsolicited advice."
"I'm glad you saw someone about it all."
"It was a surprising help. Nothing like confessing to a stranger to force objective thought."
"Amen."
"Since you're treating me like a stranger, you sure you don't want to talk about your boy trouble? It might make you more objective."
"I can treat you like gum on my shoe but that will neither make you a stranger nor me objective."
Miriallia felt a release of tension that had accumulated in her chest over the day. It was reassuring to hear that Cagalli hadn't completely lost faith in her or their relationship.
"He seems like a nice guy."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"It's nice that I can still tell when you are lying."
Cagalli pursed her lips in wonder and awe that after so many months apart, Miriallia was still spot on in calling her bluff. "I dislike that you're still psychic."
"You're just predictable," Miriallia admitted with a chuckle.
"Hey, I resent that!" Cagalli's blonde eyebrows furrowed as she fought a pout.
"It's one of my favourite things about you. I was initially drawn to you because you were simplicity in a crowd of fickle complexities."
"I know you meant that as a compliment…"
"You should really just cave and learn how to graciously deal with compliments."
Cagalli sighed. "I'm afraid of being hurt."
"By me or Athrun?"
"Both, I guess."
"That's fair, given the uncanny circumstances. But, as tough as it is to hear this, especially from me, you need to get over it." Cagalli's eyes lingered on the band as she reflected. "If you don't, where do you see yourself ending up in life?"
"Take a page out of Celeste's book why don't you?"
"I'm trying to find the balance between being appropriately polite for an estranged friend, and being the moral compass I used to be as your best friend."
The two women shared silence, a newly developed habit for the pair who, in previous years, would rarely leave a breath of pause for another to join their conversations. Cagalli rested her elbows on the tabletop, a tell-tale sign of her fatigue, and then her tired face into her palm. When she released a deep breath, Miriallia engaged her once more.
"Do you want to talk about-"
"No."
"Okay,"
"Definitely not."
"How about Athrun? Do you want to talk about him?"
"What about him?" Cagalli pushed the meat of her index finger around the rim of her wine glass. She always fidgeted when she was nervous and that made her a terrible poker player. She recollected broken fragments of her most recent encounter with Athrun and it surfaced an authentic sadness in her eyes. Miriallia noticed that this aloof melancholy was unbecoming in her for the rich amber of her irises demanded more warmth.
"You tell me." She leaned into the table like Cagalli had, showing her friend that she was ready to attentively listen far longer than it was necessary to merely bridge the gap between them.
"I don't know what to say," Cagalli confessed, the sincerity in her voice drawing analogies to the confusion of children during mourning.
"What are you thinking about that's making you sad?" Miriallia suggested gently as a place to start the delicate conversation.
"The exs, I guess," Cagalli mused bashfully, too proud to admit the source of her conflict with confidence. When Miriallia raised an inquisitive eyebrow, she elaborated, "Well, he seems extremely close to all his prior loves."
Even though Miriallia knew nothing about the cataclysmic termination of Cagalli's first serious relationship, she understood how Cagalli could have serious concerns about lingering friendships from serious relationships. Both of them had experienced forced separation, her through death and Cagalli through abandonment. It was difficult even for Miriallia to grasp how Athrun managed to sever multiple romantic relationships while kindling platonic ones in their stead.
"That's not unheard of."
"Yeah?"
"I suspect there's more to the story."
"Well, so far, he's got an ex-fiancée whom he still accompanies to social engagements to fill the void of her current beau, and he's got an ex-girlfriend that one of his closest friends misses so desperately that he believes I'm the barrier between their reconciliation and would rather I quietly fade away so she can have an encore."
"And, where does Athrun sit on all this?"
"He claims that there is nothing complicated between him and his ex-fiancée. Although that's a hard sell considering she left him for his best friend, and he fills in for his best friend as her 'date' for numerous social occasions. That cannot be normal." Cagalli looked for reassurance, which Miriallia duly provided.
"Yeah, I think that's definitely a unique situation."
"And, two days ago, he was quite giddy, albeit with the help of liquor, about the return of his ex-girlfriend. He's looking forward to spending more time with her now that she's back in the area."
From her tone, Miriallia could discern that Cagalli was far more bitter about the ex-girlfriend than she was about the ex-fiancée. "They may just be good friends."
"But Yzak, that's the friend, he believes that there is a legitimate claim to a rekindling of their romance."
"Is that something he just wishes for, or is it something that is actually true."
"I don't know, I've never met her or seen them together."
"But you've met the ex-fiancee?" Cagalli nodded in repsonse to Miriallia's question. "Maybe that's the difference. You're worried about this girl because you don't know her and you're probably imagining her to be an incarnation of perfection when she's just an average girl."
"...You need to meet the ex-fiancee. If she's any indication..."
"Are you sure your penchant for hyperbole isn't seeping through here?"
"She's a layered onion type, but the surface layers are you're typical bubblegum Mary Sues."
Repulsion put a crinkle in Mirirallia's nose. "Onion, bubblegum Barbie bot sounds less than appetizing."
"She's the Minister of Education."
"Bubblegum Barbie bot sounds right. When I first watched her appointment, she seemed more fit to be the Minister of Arts," Miriallia vaguely recollected the pink-haired Lacus glide to and from the eloquent speech at her appointment a little over a year ago. Yet she admitted with honesty, "but she's done a phenomenal job so far."
"She'd probably be an excellent Minister of Arts. She's quite literally perfect, but for the subtly sinister mischievousness in the far corners of her eyes."
"And you're afraid that Athrun has a type?"
"It would make sense of Yzak's concept that I'm just a rebound."
"Is Yzak a reliable source on such matters?"
"I can't say for certain," Cagalli hesitated, momentarily doubting her unobjectionable belief in his words.
"Maybe he's just fantasizing. Some people develop separation anxiety for the strangest things. Remember our poetry professor? We both hated the subject and mostly disliked him, but went through an inexplicable withdrawal when our time with him was up."
"I can't even remember his name."
"Neither can I."
"I can't tell what he likes about me."
"That doesn't really surprise me. Your self esteem seems to have taken a hit." Miriallia's delivery was blunt for she momentarily forgot that she was discussing a sensitive matter in the bounds of a recovering relationship. "I didn't mean that cruelly."
"I know," Cagalli sympathized, recognizing the truth in her words despite the pain they inflicted.
"He does seem to like you though, from his behaviour and the rumours at school."
"It just seems like such a playground fling though. It's a lot of tension and teasing. It doesn't feel substantive."
"People don't feel sad when a playground fling is in jeopardy."
Cagalli pursed her lips and sipped her wine. The rim of the glass was speckled with her berry lipstick and she stared at the unattractive smears her lips left behind. "I guess not. The emotional investment wouldn't be there."
"What is it that's bothering you more? That you may be more emotionally invested in this than he is, or that you may be more emotionally invested in this than you'd like to be?"
Cagalli's silence concerned Miriallia. The girl she remembered was capable of pragmatic analysis of the things that upset her and resolving issues by realizing that she had choices, even if they were the two evils, and that her decision would have consequences. She was capable of enough forethought and rationality to make decisions and absorb difficult consequences without regret. Two years ago, she would have been able to answer the question after careful reflection. Today, she seemed apprehensive to explore the avenues and avoided the difficult task instead. Miriallia did not know where the fear originated from, but this was not the moment to press the matter.
"Neither is a bad thing," she reassured upon the prolonged silence. "People never like each other exactly the same amount. You probably teeter-totter, which is perfectly normal, as is liking someone more than they like you. And if you're coming out of a shell, that can only be good. Withdrawing after your last break-up was natural, but it shouldn't lead to permanently shutting yourself in. You're just moving forward through the cycle of grief. Normally."
Miriallia felt the need to reassure Cagalli that her behaviour was quite normal, that most people behaved as she did. It was the opposite of what she needed from her therapist, which was an assurance that she was different and that was not just more collateral damage from death.
"Thanks," Cagalli spoke with a gravity in her words that amplified sincerity.
"And," Miriallia spoke with conviction knowing she didn't have the best track record for her claim, "no matter what happens, I will be here."
Cagalli smiled to fill her pause. She finished the last of her wine. Her eyes rested on Miriallia's face as she read the worry lines on her forehead and in her eyes. Her buzz may have lowered her guard tonight, for she saw her long lost friend in the woman sitting before her. She smiled at her kindly.
"I know."