Title: Mobile Suit: Gundam SEED Sojourn (20/?)

Author: Paola

Disclaimer: Mobile Suit: Gundam SEED Sojourn is based on characters and situations that belong to Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asashi (and other production affiliates that have the right of ownership). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Considerations: Similarities to other stories/events/passages are purely coincidental unless otherwise cited.

"Some questions don't have

answers, which is a terribly

difficult lesson to learn."

- Katherine Graham

PHASE 20

A Game of Two Halves

"Don't tell me you're still mad at me," Athrun sighed when Cagalli made to dodge him in the hallway leading to the west wing. A solitary jay perched on the windowsill beside them, and he momentarily glanced at it before catching Cagalli's arm as she tried to slide past him one more time.

Cagalli briefly eyed the seized appendage then met his eyes only to divert her gaze away. "Of course not! I was never mad!"

"Never?" he sounded incredulous.

"No!"

Athrun then gave her a slow smile, making her virtually flinch as though she'd been caught doing something she oughtn't be doing. "Then how come you've been avoiding me like the plague since yesterday?" He looked thoroughly amused when seven shades of red siphoned through her cheeks as she sputtered incoherent words like she had suddenly forgotten how to properly speak.

"Well?"

"It… It's not that…"

"Then what is it?"

Cagalli opened her mouth to defend herself, but clamped it shut again when a thought crossed her mind. She glared at him and promptly jerked her arm away from his hold. "Why am I sounding like I'm the one who's wrong?"

"Hu---" he was cut off before he could even finish his intelligently conjured one-word reply.

"I wasn't the one who entered without knocking! I wasn't the one who saw something he shouldn't be seeing! I wasn't the one who stared!"

A deadly, silent second passed. Then it was Athrun's turn to blush to the tips of his hair. "I did not stare!"

Ignoring the red tint that burned hotly on her cheeks, Cagalli pushed through with her defense, "Yes, you did! I know you did!"

Athrun flinched at the blonde's emphasis on what she thought he did, and he couldn't exactly blame her since he did stare, although quite unintentionally. He might be a guy, but he was decent enough to respect Cagalli's personal space. "It wasn't like I wanted to stare!" Athrun didn't realize his mistake until Cagalli frowned at him, resting her hands on her hips and looking at him like he'd just insulted her. For a moment, he was puzzled.

"So you're saying that I'm not worthy to be stared at?" Cagalli's voice rose in pitch. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. She was never a woman who paid too much attention on how people viewed her, but this time, it was different. It was Athrun telling---it was more of implying, Cagalli acknowledged, but she didn't quite care at the moment---how she physically looked, and by his tone, it wasn't really very complimentary. And there lay all the difference. Others could judge her appearance, and she wouldn't be so bothered about it, but the judgment of the blue-head in front of her was something else entirely.

Athrun gulped. In his sixteen years of existence, that had got to be the most moronic thing he'd ever uttered. He wasn't learnt in the art of understanding the workings of a girl's mind, but he wasn't naïve about their capriciousness either. He knew he had said something wrong by the way Cagalli burst out at him, and he wouldn't have figured out what he'd done wrong had Cagalli not shouted her last sentence.

He bit the inside of his cheek. He'd heard of this kind of argument before---no matter what answer he gave, it would always be the wrong one. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. He almost suspired at what was happening. He never imagined having this talk with Cagalli, seeing as how she seemed to be different from most girls he'd seen portrayed on TV, but he should have known that blowing hot and cold was one of Cagalli's talents…and charms at certain occasions.

"Does this question serve the same purpose as 'Do I look fat'?" He watched her expression turn from indignation to confusion.

"What? What are you talking about?"

This time, Athrun chuckled, but not before he gave in to the urge to sigh. "If I say you're not worthy to ogle at, I'd get bashed in the head. If I say that you are, you'd think I'm a pervert. This is a lose-lose situation you've put me into."

"Oh." The red tint that had disappeared from her cheeks during her momentary confusion returned with the ferocious force of embarrassment. "I-I didn't…I didn't mean it…like that…" She bit her lip and found the floor safer and more interesting to look at right now than the amused eyes of one Athrun Zala.

The former Justice pilot smiled fondly at her even if she couldn't see it. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her flushed against him, and by how she had turned rigid, he guessed he surprised her. After all these times, she still hadn't learned to quit getting surprised and a wee bit embarrassed whenever they'd find themselves consciously aware of being intimate.

Pressing a kiss on her temple, he spoke, "I don't know why you don't see it, Cagalli. Has anybody told you that you look bad?" He felt her hesitate a little before she shook her head no. "Of course. Because you're not. You're beautiful."

Cagalli's breath caught in her throat, and she was glad she was pressed against him or he'd be seeing how red she was fast becoming. When had she last heard that compliment sounding like it was whole-heartedly uttered? It had almost been three years ago, before she acted on her stubborn streak and started to do things the way she wanted things to happen, three years before her father died.

Uzumi Nara Athha had told her she was beautiful back then, a loving compliment from a father proud of his daughter.

"You're just saying that," she all but whispered, and even to her own ears, she sounded unsure of her words.

"Am I really?" He dropped his head and experimentally nibbled on her ear, almost swelling with manly pride when he felt her shudder. During his relationship with Lacus, he never really gave it much thought to get past chaste kisses on the cheek, probably because he'd only had the vestiges of his teenage mind and the full mentality of a soldier. But now was different. Although he was sometimes still more comfortable with living like how he was taught in the militia, he was free. He was a normal teenager, or, at least, as normal as anyone who had participated in and survived the war could get.

"…No…"

Athrun pulled back and looked at her through almost half-lidded eyes. "So you're not mad anymore?"

Cagalli had to mentally shake herself from her stupor to understand what Athrun was saying. "Uh…no…never really been."

"You mean…?"

"I wasn't mad. I didn't think you did it on purpose. I was just so pre-occupied that night that it didn't register until you had exited. I…I guess I just felt…embarrassed…so I was…avoiding you."

"Pre-occupied? With what?" Athrun asked, absent-mindedly bringing a hand to the side of her neck and idly rubbing his thumb against the soft spot just below her ear.

Cagalli was distracted with what the blue-head was doing, but she managed to voice out a coherent answer, "A math formula for an exam…"

Athrun smiled. "Was that the one we were working on the other week?"

Cagalli nodded and allowed herself to fall back into his embrace, arms loosely wrapped around his waist and her head cushioned against his chest, her initial reservations seeping off her. "Yeah. Guess what? I did real well! Thanks for being patient enough to drill all those stuff in my head."

He laughed, and she felt his chest vibrate with his action, almost a lulling rumble in the early morning.

Athrun kissed the crown of her head when she looked up to favor him a grateful smile. It wasn't a second after did her brow furrow. "What are you thinking now?"

"Dearka's accident."

"Ah." The former Justice pilot allowed a small, thoughtful frown to be comfortable on his features.

"Do you think it's really just…coincidental?"

"What do you mean?"

Cagalli drew away from him and sighed. She sashayed towards the windowsill and half-seated herself on it. "I don't know. I don't wanna be pessimistic, but, as Miriallia said, it had been an empty street. It's kind of unlikely that the shooter was aiming at someone else and just so happened that he---or she---had missed and hit Dearka instead."

"If the real target had been Dearka, he'd have been dealt a fatal shot instead of just a scratch," Athurn replied, though not quite sounding like he believed his own words. Cagalli's concern had run through his head the moment Miriallia and Dearka had told them everything last night, but he didn't want to jump into conclusions so he opted for optimism, something not quite characteristic of a soldier who' d been taught to deal with things realistically.

Cagalli tilted her head to gaze up at him then gave him a lazy grin. "If I remember correctly, I'm the one who's sanguine and you're the realist." She pushed herself up and stood in front of him, sporting yet again that weary look on her young face. "I just hope this doesn't escalate into something worse. The memorial's coming up, and then the peace talks would be starting."

Athrun brushed the soft strands away from her eyes, bringing his hand to end at the side of her neck, and, just like before, caressed the spot below her ear with the pad of his thumb. "Let's hope it doesn't."

o-o

Yzak was beginning to hate how this day was unfolding. First, he'd been obligated to join Athrun, Dearka, and Kira to the place where Dearka's accident had happened. He didn't want to, really, because Dearka had been such a pain in the ass for the past week that he couldn't care less if the arrogant prick was kidnapped and sent to a freak circus, but his sense of duty as a soldier forbade him to act otherwise. There wasn't any kind of military setting around them, nor were they supposed to act all military, but there was this weird klaxon ringing in his head, telling him that it was protocol to go check out the crime scene.

To keep his peace of mind, he tagged along, and he'd been sort of confused when they had told him Kira would come. He had shut his trap, though, the moment Athrun looked at him weirdly for voicing out that question. Apparently, checking out the crime scene was more of a "boy thing" than it was a "soldier thing."

Go figure.

If that didn't quite succeed in putting a damper on his day, his next destination surely would. It was a Saturday, a day when no decent teacher should be doling out school work to hassled students---not that Yzak considered himself "hassled." He inwardly rolled his eyes. Tsk.

He stared at the huge, black gates, a frown marring his features. Of all the punishments he'd gotten that he didn't think he deserved, this one just took the cake. Back in ZAFT, day-offs were hard to come by, and he cursed whoever hated him in the heavens for making him go to school on a Saturday. Sure, he knew his responsibilities. Sure, he always made certain that he finished the things needed to be done. But this just…

Sucks.

Shoving his hands inside his pockets, he tried to put a little effort into hiding his frown, but then thought better of it and decided to stick to his sour expression. That ought to show his professor that he couldn't ask a lot from his students and still expect them to be respectful.

He rapped on the door once, twice, thrice before he was asked to come in, and by this time, the scowl he was sporting became more pronounced. He entered the faculty room and winced slightly as his eyes adjusted to bright fluorescent lamps above.

"Wipe that scowl off your face, Mr. Jule," his professor said when Yzak was ushered towards his cubicle.

Yzak stared, teetering on the line separating his disbelief and indignation. His professor had the gall to smile! Of all the stupid things!

"Please take a seat," the professor offered calmly, shuffling a few papers scattered on his desk.

Again, Yzak just stared.

"I know I'm a good-looking man, Mr. Jule, but please, don't be too obvious with your envy."

Yzak's scowl, which he hadn't wiped off his face yet, grew even graver. He hated the new professor. Although he didn't very much like the other one, at least the previous teacher didn't seem to have a predilection for teasing her students.

Yzak inwardly sighed. His old Philosophy professor had to suddenly retire just two weeks ago due to some health condition that prevented her from stressful work, which, he thought, was a laugh and a half since what work wasn't stressful to begin with? Though he did understand that being a teacher was stressful enough to guarantee the most painful of headaches, mostly because he had already admitted to himself that if a disciplined soldier like him could be a handful, what more a plethora of rowdy teenagers that were either hormonally-imbalanced or forever acting like bats out of hell.

"What is it that I have to meet with you today for, of all days?"

"I'm not about to break what your old professor has started so I'm sticking with the buddy system. Problem with you is you don't have a partner. Fortunately, a new one's transferring to your section. Not new, per se, since the student's just from another class."

Yzak couldn't care less, and he very much doubted this couldn't wait until next week. But he was here now, and all that was left to do was suck it up and get this thing done and over with.

The fair-head pilot eyed his professor and suppressed the urge to fake a yawn just to annoy the arrogant prick; after all, the said prick was still the professor, the superior. "Who's he? And, more importantly, where is he?"

"I'm sorry, I'm late," a new voice floated inside the cubicle.

The professor smiled and gestured for the newcomer to sit. "Don't make a habit of it," he addressed the student. He turned to Yzak and continued, "And her name is Ms. Lessien Yattes."

Yzak glanced at his new partner and was quickly irritated to see her checking her watch like she was in some kind of a hurry and needed to go somewhere else right away.

"You just got here so don't be checking your watch," he bit out, learning a little too late that what he originally intended to say only in his head had caustically come out of his mouth.

"Mr. Jule," the professor sounded a warning note.

Yzak, though not one to apologize that easily, made to form a curt apology, only to realize that the new girl didn't even seem to care that he spoke harshly towards her.

"Can we have the mechanics for the project?" the new girl spoke as if Yzak hadn't just been rude to her.

"Of course," their professor answered, opening one of his drawers and fishing out two folders.

"Wasn't that the one you gave out in the class the other day?" Yzak asked. "Why didn't you give me one then?" Again, Yzak was irritated. If his jackass of a professor had given him the same folder back then, he wouldn't have needed to come to school today.

"No," the professor calmly answered him. "It's supposed to be done in pairs. I want equal distribution of work, and I want both partners to start at the same time. I needed to wait for Ms. Yattes' transfer before I hand you two the mechanics."

"She's here now. Are we done?" The professor smiled at Yzak, and the fair-head's left eye twitched.

"Yes. You may go. Have a nice day, Mr. Jule! You, too, Ms. Yattes."

Yzak gritted his teeth, snatched the folder being handed to him, then turned to glare at his new partner. Unfortunately, she had already grabbed her folder and was already out of the cubicle even before Yzak could vacate his chair.

Dammit all to hell!

o-o

By the time Miriallia had come back from the kitchen with a bag of chips and a bowl of dip, Dearka was still slightly frowning as he fingered the big band-aid on his right cheek. She settled the food on the coffee table before turning a raised eyebrow at him. "You're frowning again. For a soldier, you're too much of a sissy. Does it hurt that much? Don't tell me this is vanity talking?" She sighed exasperatedly and was all of a sudden thrown off her rhythm when Dearka unexpectedly laughed. "What?"

"I'm not sulking because of my injury, Miriallia. It just so happened that my wound was itchy at the same time that stand-up comedian threw a lame, corny line," he replied, leashing his laughter as he pointed at the TV screen.

Miriallia's mouth formed an o even before she produced the sound, "Oh."

"Besides, I don't think a measly scratch could harm my good looks." He ducked when the brunette threw him an unopened pack of crisps. "I'm only telling the truth!" He grinned at her when she rolled her eyes at him, muttering something that vaguely sounded like "arrogant ass."

Miriallia sat down on the couch beside Dearka, retrieving the snack that had fallen on the floor after she'd pitched it at him. "Doesn't it bother you?" She pulled open the bag and started to eat.

Dearka jammed his hand inside the package and withdrew some thin, sour-cream-flavored crisps. "Should it?"

"Do you think anyone has found out about our involvement in the war and your being a Coordinator? Maybe someone's holding a grudge or something."

"Do you think?" He munched on the chips.

"I don't want to, but yes. It was an empty street, Dearka. If they were aiming for anybody else, it's highly unlikely that they'd shoot you in the process."

"Hm." He licked the flavored powder off his lips.

"I know Orb's neutral, but there's no saying if all those living here don't care whether one is a Natural or a Coordinator. And since the place is mostly populated by Naturals, it's more possible that Coordinators would get the rough end of the stick."

"Maybe." He grabbed a soda can and popped off the lid.

"Jeez, Dearka, could you be more communicative?" Miriallia bit out. The full effect of her sarcasm, however, was slightly hindered by her swallowing.

He took a long swig of his drink before turning to face her. "There's really not much we can do about it. It's as if it had been a passing accident, and speculating on it won't help any. It's just gonna make you worry about something that can't be changed." He shrugged. "Spilt milk and all that jazz."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done to Dearka?" Miriallia narrowed her eyes at him, regarding him a little warily, but she grinned when he laughed again. "When did you turn philosophical?" She shook her head, looking amused.

Dearka looked at her like she had grown another set of ears. "Me? Philosophical? Huh?" He reached for the bag of chips she was currently eating from, only to have her pull it away.

"Never mind." She rolled her eyes. "You know, maybe I shouldn't try taking your picture again."

"And why is that? I'm probably the best subject you could ever lay your eyes on!"

"Ha, ha," she stuck her tongue out at him. "Just when I deigned to take a snapshot of you, a bullet goes whizzing by. Just think of what it could have been had I asked you to pose. Maybe a cannon ball." Miriallia giggled when Dearka narrowed his eyes at her.

"How can it be called 'deigning' when it's clearly a privilege to be taking my picture?" Dearka smirked at her. "Answer me that, Haw."

This time, it was Miriallia's turn to glare at the arrogant blonde. "Privilege my foot, Elsman." She leaned towards him and moved to flick him on the forehead when he rendered her highly surprised as he intercepted her hand. His movement caused her to lean into his direction more, bringing them nose-to-nose.

"Don't be cute."

Miriallia gulped as his breath ghosted over her lips, making her realize just how close they were---so close that she could smell the faint whiff of his cologne mixed with the soft scent of his soap from the shower he'd been taking when she'd arrived that afternoon. They'd never been this close before, and she wondered if he had whispered his answer since it had sounded hushed over the roar of blood pounding in her ears. The heat she could feel siphoning through her cheeks demanded her attention, but she couldn't quite move away, frozen in her spot by a force she couldn't name.

The intrusive footsteps that rang as their owner neared the family room cut through Miriallia's hazy mind, and her eyes widened as she hastily pulled away. She licked her dry lips and looked up just in time to see Kisaka entering with a manila folder in one hand and a fountain pen in the other.

"Dearka, Miriallia," he acknowledged them. He surveyed the room as if looking for something before speaking again, "How's that wound of yours, Dearka?"

Dearka's hand automatically flew to his injury. "Doesn't sting a bit."

Kisaka chuckled then he turned serious. "Are you sure you didn't see anyone suspicious during the incident?"

The blonde shook his head. "It's weird. There wasn't anything yesterday on that street, and I didn't notice anything out of place or seemed out of place."

"Miriallia?"

"None either."

"I've been thinking," Kisaka started, "there ought to be an investigation on this."

Dearka immediately shot out of his seat. "It's all right, sir. I know, as a…" he faltered then shook his head, "as a soldier of ZAFT, I know that the situation warrants an investigation, more so as the victim involved had been a war participant, but it had been a clean execution. Athrun, Yzak, Kira, and I went back to the scene this morning, and the bullet had already been dug out of the tree it hit. Even the dent it made had been disturbed enough to nullify any sign of the bullet's caliber to help determine the gun it was shot out of."

Miriallia's head snapped towards Dearka. She didn't know that he'd gone back to the place to gather evidence that they could use to start an investigation. Lacus and Cagalli hadn't told her anything either when they'd talked earlier---the two girls probably had no idea, too, that Athrun, Kira, and Yzak had gone with Dearka. But before she could open her mouth to ask, she realized that she really shouldn't be surprised at the boys' actions. Dearka, Athrun, and Yzak were trained soldiers, and Kira was smart enough to anticipate---and even join them in their decision---such action from their ZAFT-affiliated friends.

"A formal investigation of the crime scene could provide the evidence we missed on our cursory examination," Dearka continued, "but since there'd been no witnesses and no irreparable damage done, I don't think it's wise to carry out an investigation. It might just raise questions because surely, it will be hard to keep things like this under wraps. It's going to be more trouble for Cagalli."

Kisaka sighed. "I've thought of that, too. We're also not dismissing the slight chance that you weren't really the target, and that in itself warrants an investigation because there might be a criminal on the loose. But, as you've said, there hadn't been many people around and that you two had been alone on that side of the street, so it's more likely that you really were the target."

Dearka displayed a cocky grin. "Don't worry, sir. I can take care of myself. I'm a soldier, just like Athrun and Yzak, and if I was the target because I was involved in the war and because of my being a Coordinator, I can handle myself."

Kisaka nodded, not once thinking that Dearka was only bragging. He had never doubted the capabilities of the three ZAFT soldiers, and he wasn't about to start now. "I know. Just watch out for yourselves. Cagalli's very protective of her friends, and it's going to be a pain telling her that an investigation won't be carried out because of your decision, which I'm sure is also Athrun's and Yzak's decisions."

Dearka laughed, and so did Miriallia.

"Good luck with that, sir. Though, I think she'd hound me for the reason behind my decision," Dearka replied.

"Probably," Kisaka chuckled. "By the way, did you see some papers on the coffee table? Captain Ramius said she'd left a few documents here."

"Oh yeah. I put them away. They're on that shelf over there," Miriallia answered, pointing at a polished set of wooden shelves at the other end of the room.

Kisaka briskly retrieved the papers he was looking for. "I'll see you, kids, later. I have a meeting to attend." He nodded his goodbye then he was gone.

"You've really thought this over, haven't you?" Miriallia asked as soon as Dearka reclaimed his seat.

Dearka popped a crisp in his mouth and chewed for a second. "Nope. I just thought about it as I was going."

Miriallia studied him. He wasn't giving out any sign that he was kidding her, and he even told her to just take another picture of him if she would just be staring at him the whole time, then laughing at his own joke. But she knew better. Dearka was a soldier, and she was sure he had already figured out what to do the minute he'd been shot. He told Kisaka of their visit to the crime scene that morning, and she wouldn't expect anything less from a soldier of his and his comrades' caliber.

-To Be Continued…

A/N:

Not one of my best chapters, but it had to be done. Sorry…