Gundam Seed: Chapter Twenty Five
Battle
by:frost2light
"Cheat! Cheat! Cheat!"
"You are a monster!"
"You do not deserve to live!"
The shocked gasps and stunned silence that followed Athrun Zala's teleportation gave way to horrified whispers and low rumbling by all those present, but soon escalated by one brave soul into a chanting spree. Athrun felt their words punch him, making him feel breathless and angry all at once, literally feeling the words bore into that small part of him that had never fully died. He hated Patrick Zala with a renewed fire, vengeance the only thing on his mind when all this was over and forgotten. And as Kira Yamato approached, he still pushed the hatred back into that deep dark recess of his mind and faced the teen. He did not want to fight, did not want to kill this inexperienced teen who just wanted to protect this worthless person standing in front of him. He did not deserve that honour no matter what the reason the Kira had made for him. There was no purpose in sacrificing one's self for something that was unimportant.
Please stop Kira. I cannot hold back. Not here….
"Get out of the way Kira. You do not stand a chance." His voice, so different from the internal anguish he was currently feeling, stated coldly, unemotionally, as if a warning that just came and could not be bothered if the opponent did not heed it. Athrun stepped a few steps back and to the left, shifting Kira's attention away from Patrick Zala who just sat there with not a worry on his face and watched both of them at action, his thoughts unreadable even to the people who were just beside him, taking in everything that was currently happening fastidiously, filing it away in that brain of his for future use.
"Don't waste time." Patrick's voice was cold, regal, like a king throwing a command to his servants, slaves that scrambled to grant his wishes. And before Kira's very own eyes, Athrun changed.
"You should not have done that." Athrun said softly, regretfully, but Kira could tell that his remorse was not at himself, not about the fight that was going to start, his glittering emerald green eyes depicting a very changed personality while his words betrayed an anticipation of yet another fight, yet another heady rush of power, of being omnipotent. This was no longer the Athrun that he had seen earlier, not the teen who was afraid and alone, wanting to be free but caught up in a web that bound him and choked him. This was the Death God Cagalli had told him about, the hand that had taken away so many lives and enjoyed the process, the baby of the man Kira hated so much it hurt. He wished he could turn back time, to be able to change the past to alter the present, but as those emotions flickered across his face, allowing the whole world to see, Athrun merely grinned savagely at the display and started to push.
Kira felt his muscles straining, the knife glinting evilly in front of them, taunting them to use it on the weaker. Athrun's grin widened fractionally almost as though he could understand the blade's persuasion. Knowing that he would not win the battle of strengths, he had to find another way to get to Patrick. Kira let go all of the sudden, sidestepping and throwing Athrun off balance, using Athrun's momentum to make him lose his footing. Athrun who had placed more weight on the front felt himself fall forward, the sudden disappearance of the brown haired boy the cause. Kira took hold of this opportunity to push Athrun's body from the side, turning a neat half circle, like a basketball player needing to evade a guard blocking his path to victory. He started but was once again blocked by Athrun who had teleported from where he had stumbled, his grin in full display.
"I did not think you had that up your sleeve. Apparently you are not just all brawn."
"Thank you for your compliment." Kira said grimly before feinting to his left, but Athrun caught his bluff. It was beginning to feel like a fight like all others. Punches and kicks, blocks and feints, always trying to best the other opponent, looking for the one opportunity to put the other down. Athrun was circling Kira, his eyes locked on a target like a heat seeking missile. He moved like a panther, lithe, graceful, lethal, no wasted movements, coiled tight like a spring, ready to leap at a moment's notice to strike. Kira noticed that the people in the room had quietened, no longer spouting hurtful words, and gathered once more around where they were, but giving them a very noticeable wide berth. They were hypocrites, each and every one of them, sensing danger, but like moths to a flame, they still seek the thrill that came. A small percentage of the whole in the room had stayed back to watch Cagalli Yula Athha and Yzak Joule, Kira hoped in his heart that Cagalli was faring way better than him because he had no time to check.
"Are you regretting it now?" Athrun's voice travelled from his end to Kira's ears, closing the distance between them with its rich tenor. Kira did not bother replying, knowing it was just another waste of energy. Instead, he took in his situation and the geography, trying to come up with a workable plan that would get him to where Patrick Zala was. What he knew was that both of them were near the communion rail and what used to be the altar of the church where currently two men sat with another standing, a bodyguard with a mask. Meanwhile, the space where Kira was like a deer being stalked by the black predator was one small part of the huge expanse of floor that supposedly held benches for the devotees to sit on and where a choir used to sing like angels and lifted spirits of people tired in both spirit and mind.
However, through time, all that was left was scuff marks left by thieves that came in for a quick hunt for cash, sturdy oak that stood as permanent fixtures proved that determination could overcome all, disappearing into weather beaten trucks and whooping loud music that rocked the walls. Dust coated every inch of the place, displaced only by the people who came during events such as these. Gone were the pale marble statues that represented love placed here for worshipping, the illuminating glow of lighted candles given life to bring hope, and windows that once upon a time had allowed sunlight in to bathe the church a warm glow. All of them were now stained and cracked, some missing parts of blue, green or golden. It had been a home to people, a sanctuary that they thought all would respect, but evidently, it was no religious spot anymore, it was only a place where the aimless and homeless came. No God lived here now, only people possessed by demons and running on hate.
It was a pitiful scene, one that saddened Kira immensely. He was not a particularly religious person, but he respected and loved the way religion brought everybody together. In a church, or in anywhere else, a temple, a hut, it did not matter. They were as one, followers learning about good and evil, where the black was dark and white a ray of light. To him, what was happening now was like defilement to the purity that ought to have existed here, a place where once people prayed for the better, now humans planned for the worst. He had expected something else for a venue, a bar, a casino, but never this. It seemed that human's atrociousness and depravity was just another leap away from their own doom.
"What are you preoccupied about? You really should pay more attention to your enemy. A life can end when you lay bleeding on the floor. I have shown you before, haven't I?"
"Thank you for your advice." Kira said, not sarcastically, just sad. He was about a few feet from Patrick, his distance allowing him to see what was etched on the man's face. He had been handsome once, the features telling him the tale. Even till now, he was not the stereotypical scientist with a huge gut hanging over his pants and half bald with owlish spectacles that always drooped. In fact, Patrick Zala aged incredibly well. Possessing a full head of hair, peppered with grey at the sides, he portrayed an aristocratic, distinguished gentleman who frequents the opera and organises charity fundraising to the max. But, there were tell tale signs that told a different part of a story. Kira could see the cruel downward twist at the lips that pointed to violence and bitterness, the deep furrows between his eyebrows that indicated a permanent frown and most of all the lack of kindness in his pair of eyes.
"You are not going to make the first move." Athrun stated matter a fact, wondering where the fire had gone. The teen had brushed him off before, rushing pass him as if devils were on his tails, heading straight towards the man sitting not far from them, but had stopped when Athrun teleported, just standing there looking at him with those gentle violet eyes that Athrun the Death God hated. Kira was filled with contradictions that he wanted to unravel, his curiousity left unsatisfied every time he had to push that urge away, like now. "If you are not going to attack, then I will."
He disappeared in a blur and reappeared behind Kira who whirled and defended, both of them exchanging a flurry of attacks, high kicks and lots of ducking. Athrun clearly had the upper hand in physical shape while Kira on the other hand had already starting to pant. Athrun allowed no rest for his opponent and started up again with an elegant sweep of his left leg, aiming to trip the other brown haired teen. Kira dodged, not having any fancy moves or ideas on how to beat him to arm to arm combat, he had been trained in the past, been put through endless hours of those but his body had forgotten most of it even if his brain haven't. In his mind, he pictured himself performing flawless black flips and somersaults that vaulted him far and away those powerful attacks but in reality, compared to Athrun he was a lame duck that limped instead of the usual waddling, quite pathetic really. And he knew Athrun felt the same way too.
Kira was already feeling the effects, his hands and legs stinging where Athrun had punched and he blocked, it was inevitable that one would find its mark and leave him paralysed with the breath forced out from his lungs. He had a feeling that Athrun was going light on him and he was both insulted and relieved. Kira knew the limits of his own boundaries and they clearly were coming straight to him with no holding back on the brakes. He had to use his abilities if he wanted to combat on an even par with Athrun who was using more of his teleportation skills. It made Kira wonder if that was all he could do because it did not seem wise for someone to keep using the same trick twice, albeit a very useful trick. It was made for stealth, for surprise and Athrun clearly did not have one now. He seemed to be hiding something up his sleeve, an ace that he would reveal only to the very last. Finding out would be Kira's second objective, but he hoped that he could live long enough to remember it and come up with a countermeasure if he ever needed to face it again.
"You are thinking too much again." Athrun said as he came in for another blow, this time catching Kira right in his midsection, a slight tap for Athrun but one that sent Kira sprawling backwards into some of the onlookers. All of them scattered and dispersed, not one willing to help. Kira felt the pain travel from his stomach into his brain, bursting like the first of July fireworks as he worked hard to catch his breath, wiping away a trail of blood that formed a small stream down his split lip. He pushed himself up and away from the ground, not wanting to look at the people who had stayed to watch a freak show, afraid for their own safety but nevertheless wanting to continue because this was something new. Kira need not have looked to know what they were thinking, the disgust and horror and wariness could be felt so easily in the still, dank, polluted air.
"You can still stand."
"You were going easy on me."
"You could tell?"
"Did you wish for the opposite?"
"You have a sense of humour for someone who walks a thin line between life and death. If you don't get serious, you won't have any more chance."
"Why are you giving me that chance?"
"Should I even answer that question?"
"Patrick Zala doesn't own you and you don't owe him."
"Are we back to talking again?"
"I wish we could."
"Dream on."
And it all started again with Athrun attacking. But, this time, there was something different. Kira no longer dodged, he merely stood where he was but Athrun, for some peculiar reason, could get nothing onto the teen. It seemed as if the air was deflecting his blows, throwing it towards the side instead of the original middle where he planned for the fists to land. Athrun narrowed his eyes, knowing that things had escalated to a higher level of difficulty and rejoiced. Before this, it had been too easy; now, he too could play less and work more. Sensing more than knowing that Kira had started to use his abilities to form a barrier in front, Athrun wondered if he had that protection all around. He started going in from all directions, flashing in like a blinding out and disappearing the next, his knife out in his right hand, a sign that he was no longer toying with the teen.
Patrick who took it all in continued to watch like the outsider he was, taking in details, rating how Athrun was performing on different situations until he saw Kira get up from the floor from the punch and made Athrun miss. Not once, twice but many times in a row. Taken aback, he had never seen this happen before which made him sit up straighter and pay attention, both figuratively and literally. Before this, the whole fight had been just another somewhat entertaining yet easily predicted show, the outcome usually being Athrun's opponent dead or dying. Besides, it was rather exhilarating to know that you are just that one step from death, knowing that you have done enough things, big things that warranted somebody to come after your life, however pathetic that life was. And, most of all, it was even more empowering when that pathetic life had somebody, no something, he had never viewed Athrun as a person, only a tool, a weapon, but mostly an experiment, to protect it. Watching Athrun do everything that it could to spare his life was quite heady, to say the least.
However, behind those feelings came a more disturbed one, one that was unidentifiable and curled around his stomach before settling there like a dead weight. Patrick was feeling disturbed, because the boy seemed familiar, his expression of stubbornness, determination, it all reminded Patrick of someone that he had known a long time ago, a certain individual he had risked his life to save and yet voluntarily ended it because he was no longer useful for his cause as no one needed a traitor in their midst. His mind replayed one image, over and over again, overlapping quite coincidentally with the face in front of him, and without a doubt, Patrick knew who the brown haired boy resembled- Meng, his protégé, his victim, and the one who had betrayed his trust.
Pushing away his assumption, Patrick continued to observe the fights that continued on ferociously, ignoring all others, gathering information for him to determine the danger of the brown haired boy and to finalise his earlier presumption. He had seen with his eyes the knife stop and the way Athrun's attacks bounce off Kira as if he was enveloped in a bubble shield all round. He had to confirm that fact himself before he could make further decisions. Undeniably, Meng had been somebody methodical and learnt fast, he was also a genius in his own right, if he had been allowed to live by God, he would have surpassed Patrick without a doubt. Patrick had been able to see that promise long before Meng had started to defy his actions.
Caught up within his thoughts, Patrick did not notice the changes of expression Murata Azrael had on his face and was startled when Murata snapped out loud, finally succumbing to the panic and fear with having two insane people with noticeable abnormal abilities battling it out right in front of him. "What are they doing Patrick! This was not in the books. Get rid of them!"
Patrick turned his head, ready to snap at Murata's sudden disturbance, but his annoyance and exasperation evaporated when he had the chance to watch Murata cower with fright at the nearness of the two fighting boys. Patrick was satisfied by the way Murata could not hold in his nervousness as yet another particularly near punch nearly came his way. He observed with a barely suppressed glee as Murata frantically hid behind his bodyguard's back, fearing for his own safety. Murata's terror was not without basis, even he could feel the wind and the power behind that punch, a very concrete proof of the determination the brown haired teen had as he faced down with the champion of the ring. Hiding the smirk, he merely raised his hand as an acknowledgment before turning away to concentrate on the ongoing fight.
Murata gave Patrick quite a comically baffled look when Patrick blithely ignored his commands, stunned by the way Patrick treated him like a child. Klueze nearly snorted in amusement when Murata, finally realising what was happening, forgot his fear for the moment and started spluttering in indignation and anger, really like a child that he was. He visibly tried to compose himself, succeeding quite admirably, except for the tightly clenched fists and pressed lips. His cornflower blue eyes growing colder and colder by the minute, no doubt engraving into his memory this particularly humiliating experience and the patronising words Patrick was still murmuring under his breath in a very fake way of providing comfort. Klueze knew without a doubt that this blonde haired man was already plotting his revenge on the other arrogant man. If Klueze was honest, he would admit readily how similar the two men were. And as if reading Klueze's thoughts, Murata turned slowly towards him before speaking in that awfully sweet syrupy voice that Klueze detested.
"Enjoying the show Klueze? It really is the front seat wouldn't you agree? See anything particular that you like? If memory doesn't fail me, it seems that the prize that you were harping on and on so enthusiastically is quite out of the picture. You do know what would happen if you continue to fail today right?" Murata said, his voice no longer high pitched and afraid, syllables pronounced with that lazy drawl that disillusioned others, ending with a smile that never quite reached his eyes that resembled cold, black flint.
Klueze gave him a stiff nod, his eyes never leaving the fight, understanding the way the boss needed to have his ego assured that he had, at least, one man under his control. But, even he knew that he could not hide his resentment and contempt for the man and Murata knew it, making it all the more sweet for him. It was with extreme effort in which Klueze forced himself to bite back scathing and sarcastic remarks that wanted freedom and to remain silent, his eyes showing only contempt and resentment. He nodded once to show that he understood Murata's command and proceeded to inch slightly forward.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
They were sitting in a rented car, dark green in colour with registration plates that told the passer bys that it was local, hidden partially by the tinted glasses of that vehicle with the engine running. Normally, people would get suspicious if there were cars idling around the neighbourhood, the crime rate climbing steadily over the years, yet, in this particular part of town, none of the people walking pass with hurried steps and hunched shoulders had given them a second glance, in fact, they had went out of their way to give them a wide berth. To them, it was all too normal to have people parking around the streets and them to mind their own business. It was not a hobby of theirs to get killed because of curiousity, a mindset that had been engrained into their brains through force, experience and bad luck. The only ones who had looked at them suspiciously with half lidded eyes were the regulars that hung around the back alleys.
"This is not a strategic place for us." Hinata Yui murmured to herself, her fingers on her right hand tapping a nervous rhythm on the dashboard as her other clutched harder at the holster holding the revolver she had placed in her lap under her jacket for emergencies. The gun belonged to her, registered legally under her name, but she had never the opportunity to use it on anything except targets. And for that she was extremely thankful. Admittedly, she was not a bad shot, patiently enduring the lessons her father had persistently hounded her to take for her own good. She appreciated his concern and had obliged but, to her, using a gun was always the last choice, she preferred a more peaceful way to do things and had avoided most situations that needed a weapon on hand. She was not afraid to use the gun nor was she a coward, but she was not in the least bit deluded on how brief one's life could be.
"I agree totally." Nicol Amalfi answered unexpectedly to Hinata's observation, his voice gentle. But Hinata detected that tense undercurrent that flowed just beneath the surface and she knew what Nicol's eyes were taking in. For the most part, the buildings around them showed signs of neglect and age, the paint peeling off in most places while vulgar graffiti and artistic ventures battled for dominance on both the street pavement and any empty space that could be used. The streetlights that dotted the street were mostly destroyed, the glass casings which provided shelter to the light bulbs all but shattered, its fragments littering the ground, catching the light once in a while, glinting. Only one stood pathetically whole and provided a dim light which flickered on and off, threatening to die one way or another.
"Do you know how to defend yourself?" She asked bluntly but not harshly, never meaning to be rude, hoping that Nicol did not take offence while she tried to get a feel of their situation. She knew that they were sitting on a time bomb that could explode any moment and she preferred to know what she was getting herself into. There were instances where she could not prevent things to happen, a perfect example being their location- all of them were in a neighbourhood that had policeman choosing straws to go on duty, even turning a blind eye to the illegal activities that went on, either that or taking part and getting way too fat for their own good with the money. The illegal fighting that was going on was currently placed in an abandoned church, the space wide enough for people to make it lively and for fighters to kill each other. The people that lurked around at this time were mostly drug addicts or dealers who were looking for yet another wad of cash. Neither one of them providing any comfort to Hinata.
Nicol smiled before allying her worries, not taking the comment as an insult at all. "I can fight well enough to not be a burden."
Hinata returned with a quirk of hers lips, her expression slightly sheepish, "I'm sorry. I did not mean to be sarcastic."
"Apology accepted." Nicol said with a wry grin, thankful that both of them were making conversation. It was getting unbearable with the silence. "And I understand." Nicol added, his eyes flickering towards the outside before returning to hold Hinata's dark orbs with his own, expression wishful and sad at the same time. "I hate the waiting too."
"You don't ever seem to have other emotions other than that gentleness." Hinata observed, her own lips curling up, trying to change the subject, not wanting to discuss the situation at hand. She liked Nicol Amalfi, he brought to her the sense of peace, inner calm that she lacked whenever Cagalli's life was on the line. He seemed to be the oldest of the group, knowing much more than Cagalli before the voices intervened. He was the one who knew the one who had created all these children, the test tube babies with tweaked genes. She could not imagine Nicol having a better or more suitable ability than healing. It suited him somehow, a part of him that Hinata could easily realise and guess if she ever had to.
"Do I?" Nicol said a self deprecating way, humour peppering his words, "I certainly do not feel that way. In fact, I thought you could hear my heart tripping over itself at how fast it's going."
"Do you play the piano?" She asked all of a sudden, her own question surprising her as she opened her mouth to apologize for prying.
Nicol smiled, waving away her unsaid apology before answering, "Somebody told me once that I have an aura of music around me."
"That person is quite observant." Hinata replied, agreeing as Nicol chuckled. But, a shadow fell upon his good looking face and Hinata needed no explanation.
"Music seems to be the best way for me to relax." Nicol said, his voice slightly poignant as he reminiscence about the past, "Meng sensei arranged for piano lessons and I have never regretted those days. They were the happiest in my life and when I was young, I had a dream to become a world class pianist one day…but it seems that things have been thrown out of track for the moment."
Hinata did not know how to respond to that, did not know words of comfort when faced in situations like this. She knew how stupid it would sound if she said that things would be better in the future and how much a hypocrite she would become if she said that she understood because clearly she did not. She did not understand what it was to loose something that you loved. Sighing soundlessly, she turned away, not wanting to look at the other teen who sat across from her in the driver's seat, but the image danced in her head all the same. Nicol had a pair of doe like brown eyes that were ever kind, mud green hair that looked perpetually ruffled, slight curls in some ends which gave him a mischievous, boyish look, a cherub, cupid with bows. But, ever present too was the seriousness in his face that took away the child part of him and for a moment Hinata felt a pang of regret for all of the teens who were dragged involuntarily into this unholy mess. Keeping her eyes downcast as the fingers which were drumming impatiently slowed, fluttering on more gently, as if playing an imaginary piano but coming to an end soon.
Nicol allowed the silence to continue, knowing that if Hinata wanted to talk, she would and he, in return, would listen. It was a responsibility that he had agreed to because deep down inside Cagalli probably knew that Hinata had not come to terms about the fact that there were people with supernatural powers, therefore instinctively fearing them, though unconsciously. She had wanted Hinata to stay back to prevent her from seeing things that would scare her, it was not that Cagalli mistrusted her, or that Hinata was a coward, but it was for the best. And Nicol agreed. Hinata did not understand the depth of their abilities, all she knew was that they were different. Making her see what they could do firsthand without her accepting it first, would only make things worst.
"May I ask a personal question?" Hinata's voice was tentative, almost afraid, unlike her earlier outburst, her eyes staring ahead into her lap, not focusing on anything, just looking, which told Nicol about the depth and touchiness on the subject about to be breached and he knew what she wanted to ask and gave her the permission, knowing it was courtesy that prompted Hinata's question and he appreciated that gesture. "Go ahead."
Hinata paused, trying to grasp hold of the thoughts that were flitting in her mind like swallows, diving and soaring, so tantalisingly out of reach while she was on the ground, too slow and far to catch any one. She cleared her throat uncomfortably, not knowing where to start, too many questions with no answers and prying had never been a habit of hers. Getting more and more frustrated by the minute, Hinata cursed her inability to think at this current moment. She had always prided herself on her calm, but where were they when she needed them?
"Take your time, just ask me what you want to know." Nicol provided as if reading her mind, his words filled with a gentleness that made Hinata want to tear up at the unfairness of this world.
"Cagalli…she was an experiment…isn't she?"
"Yes, all of us are."
"Why Kira? Why Cagalli? Why you?" The three questions that were blurted out were bitter; the intonation filled with despair that Nicol wish he could ease. These questions that Hinata had given him, were the ones that he had asked too many times to keep count, wondering and pondering what God had in for them or was it merely a prank pulled by some bored deities up there. Since the day he was born, since Kira needing to rely on his medication to placate the symptoms of his powers reactivating, and the whole mess they were in, he had asked those questions, but, funnily, the more he chased after the elusive answers, the more they avoided him. But, there were things that he could change, and there were things that could not be helped, he knew that he had to accept the fact that they would probably be in this nightmare for as long as it took to wake up, but, even through it all, he was glad. Not because he was a masochist, but because…
"We cannot change that Hinata but you, you are not involved in this. You can go any time."
"Is that why I was left behind in this car?"
"Do you want the truth?"
"I know the truth, I just didn't want to confirm it."
"Hinata, Cagalli wanted you to stay behind to give you a choice."
"She should know better."
"She knows, which is why she needs to do this."
"I don't understand."
"Hinata, you are normal. You don't have tweaked genes which provide you with supernatural abilities, you don't need to worry about how people's eyes would look at you if they get to know about the real you. Existing like this, like us, forever different from everybody else, hiding away from their eyes, taking so much care to hide in the shadows, what is there to be proud of? In the future, when the cat is out of the bag, which it soon will be, we might be the cause of yet another senseless war, we don't want you to be pulled into this quicksand with no way out."
"No…"Hinata squeezed out, her face pale and drawn, stricken at how Nicol had put the truth that she had been avoiding into words that made her face the reality. She had thought she had overcome her feelings, her doubts, and would be over that part. She cared so much about Cagalli, think of her as a sister she never had and she knew that she did not fear her….now. But, what about the future, could she accept that part of Cagalli? Or would she one day turn against her? People were fickle minded creatures, one's loyalty only there today and gone the next.
Pushing on relentlessly, knowing that he needed to do so to get his point across, to make sure Hinata really understood, he continued, ""We are freaks Hinata. Freaks. That will be Cagalli's name if people found out. That will be our burdens, our differences summarized into such an ugly sounding word. That is us. Kira can kill with his powers if he was not careful. Cagalli can overturn anyone with what she can learn as knowledge has always been the most frightful weapon. Individually, either one of them have more than enough to take on the world, can you imagine what both of them combined could do?"
Nicol knew he sounded harsh and uncompromising, but Hinata needed not soft words of comfort, she had to face the reality of the future which he knew would come eventually, especially if the battle was prolonged and Patrick Zala succeeded with his plan. He allowed a slight pause, giving Hinata time to imagine the results and was not the least bit happy or satisfied when he saw the shudder that ran through her. He did not enjoy frightening her, but this was a real case scenario. Cagalli had taken him aside and had asked him, almost pleading with him to convince Hinata to stay away. He had refused initially, but had relented in the end because he knew that Cagalli could not bring herself to do it. All of them were selfish, all of them wanted,needed, somebody they could rely on.
Lowering his voice to almost a whisper, Nicol knew that this was the last few sentences that he would say, and after that, it was up to Hinata. He did not like doing this, felt incredibly guilty by turning Cagalli's best friend against her, but this was his job, his responsibility, his chain around his neck, and there was no turning back. Straightening, his brown eyes caught Hinata's in a steady gaze, imploring her to understand the whole situation, showing her only the stark, naked truth, no matter how ugly it was. She deserved the truth more than the sugar coated lies that she was willing to believe, and then allow her to choose her own path, her own future.
So be it, from here onwards it will be up to her.
Please forgive me Cagalli…please forgive me if I could not tell her to stay.
"Hinata, they could destroy anything and everything. They can do whatever they wanted to and no one would be able to stand up to them. Won't you be afraid of them then? Won't you think that they could be a threat to the society? Won't you hate them? And me Hinata, I can heal. But, what if I don't want to heal those who need my help? What if I stood to one side and laughed at their faces watching their desperation? Or gave them a choice by pitching war against one another just for my amusement? What then?" He finished softly, his own choice of words unsettling him. But all of them were spun from the truth, not theatrical, melodramatic, over the top things you usually saw on television. These really were the demons they will have to fight when the heady sense of power comes into play.
I do not know myself if I were to stay true….
"Shut up. Shut up! Why are you doing this?!" Hinata vented her voice lost and empty as she valiantly fought back the tears that were welling unbidden. She did not want to cry, not when Nicol and the others thought she was not strong enough. She knew she could let go, pull herself out before things got even worst, go back to her job in Orb, but the bigger part of her, the part that felt her heart breaking whenever she thought that she would need to leave Cagalli behind, did not want to leave. She would stand by them, support them, but did they need her? Personally, deep down inside, on the gut instinct level, she believed that none of them would be what Nicol had described. It was preposterous, they were people who fought for the good, never straying, never taking the easy way out. The proof was right in front of her, Kira and Cagalli, with nothing but bravery, heart and concern for a teen they barely knew, they were trying to save him, to bring him away from the dark and into the light, even if he did not want it.
But they might. Not now, maybe, but in the future.
So stop them. Trust in her as she trusts in you. Bring them back if they walk down the wrong path. Show them they need not be alone..
"You are wrong…Nicol…" She ventured, first weakly but getting stronger by the moment, her decision made. She cursed herself for not noticing the strain that etched itself in Nicol's face, the pain that hid behind that strong façade he tried to hoax her into believing. Her dark orbs glinting with the tears but with a determination and sincerity that touched Nicol. He knew Hinata had made up her mind, and no matter what happened, she would not be swayed from it again. She was that type of person. If Cagalli was made of fire, then she will be the air that fanned the fire, the one that would sustain the need to be where the heart was. And Nicol was proud. Cagalli had made a very good friend indeed.
"Thank you." Three simple words, spoken with such a relief and gratitude that Hinata wished she could just hug the teen. Those words alone told Hinata how much they, all of them, had been hoping for, they did need her, maybe not on the front lines, never as a soldier, but as a friend, as the emotional support that only she could give. If she, as somebody close to them, could not accept them, what are there to say about the others who barely knew them? She did have a choice, either to stay or leave, but she had willingly opted to be here, determined to at least lift some burden of theirs, realising that no matter how many there were, none of their shoulders were broad enough to carry the whole world. She vowed to return the trust and willingly do so, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
"Don't you ever dare to do that to me again, I do not have that strong a heart to keep on with these games." Hinata chided Nicol, her dark eyes flashing, not with anger but with a determination and humour that Nicol appreciated. The air in the car was laden down with an atmosphere so heavy it could crush anyone alive, and it was a great relief to see it lighten up. She continued as she used the back of her hand to wipe the rest of the tears that dampen her eyelashes, "I deserve better than that, and that Cagalli. I will personally skin her alive, after I hug her to death first. Don't you even dare stop me, though I doubt you would, a woman's wrath should never be underestimated."
Rolling her eyes skyward before looking affectionately at Nicol who had the tendency to blush and grin back sheepishly, Hinata left the best for last, "Freaks. What a word. But, you are right, all of you are freaks, including me. But I love Cagalli and you, and Kira, both of you are the most loyal, most caring people I have ever met. Don't you ever dare change in that sense, don't you ever doubt yourself. Don't you ever think that you will become the people that you fear…you are not alone in this…
…. because we are family."
Nicol merely smiled and nodded, no words were needed. It was like a television sitcom where the endings were so cliché and cheesy, but no matter how feel good it may sound, or pretentious, there was nothing to doubt about Hinata's sincerity. Cagalli would be glad, no, she would be more than glad, she would be ecstatic. No doubt about that. Nicol could just imagine the both of them- the matured elder sister and the fiery cub, batting at each other, worrying too much, just wanting everything to be the best for any one of them. The questions that Hinata and him had asked all this while, they did not need answers, being a beginning on a path to where all of them belonged. Nobody ever said that being a family was easy, it required patience and sacrifice, especially in bad times. Moreover, this situation was worst than bad, but that did not matter.
That's right. That's the only good thing that came out of this situation….
All of them have finally found a place where they belonged, a name that would stick.
Family.
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The conversion that had been taking place was fast turning into one infinitely worst nightmare. Montage Dirge stared helplessly into the screen as Lacus Clyne's blue eyes pinned him like a bug under a microscope. He had two choices; one was to terminate the conversation, blame it on the useless telecommunications system or secondly, to answer whatever Lacus Clyne wanted him to and be free of the internal dispute between two power figures. The former option was quite appealing and his finger itched to do so, but, every one knew that Orbs boasted on their ability with electronics, therefore, making this sudden telecommunications breakdown quite implausible. Moreover, the backlash of that childish notion was too much a risk to take. Montage knew it for a fact that Lacus was definitely not someone to be played with.
Stall.
"Are you trying to come up with a story Representative? Wouldn't it be much easier to come up with the truth?" Lacus was fast losing her patience and she wondered if it was time to bring in a little enforcement on Montage's side.
"No, of course not, but what is there to say? Your accusations are slightly on the absurd side don't you think? I have been dealing with only you, you have to trust me. I'm not double crossing anyone." Montage said, trying to laugh jovially, but ended up sounding weak, flat and forced.
"Representative Dirge, you are starting to try my patience, are you or are you not about to answer the questions that I have just asked?" Lacus repeated softly, but Montage knew he would be a fool to misinterpret the soft tone with weakness, with forgiveness. The soft musical lilt to Lacus's voice did nothing to mask the menacing undercurrent that weaved itself so well with the words.
Lacus could hear the seconds ticking by as silence filled the entire room, even Yukito, who was present, seemed transfixed by the whole proceeding, as though waiting, waiting for something that Lacus could not put her finger on, even though his face remained as impassive as ever. Lacus felt her fingers slowly curl into a fist that she kept hidden from the camera that broadcasted her image to the other and from Yukito. She was trying hard to rein in her temper, knowing that it was unwise to flare up. But, it irked her to no end to look at this snivelling coward, waiting for him to cook up some pathetic excuse about the lies that Ishida Toshiro had so intricately wove around her. But, no matter the logic about the whole situation, her patience was fraying dangerously thin around the edges. She would only need for just one push for it to break.
"Representative Dirge, do you or do you not have the answers to the questions?"
"I…I…"
"Do you or do you not, Representative Dirge?"
"Are you threatening me Lacus Clyne?" He blurted out, trying to pull his way out of the mess that he was currently neck deep in.
"Oh? On what basis Representative?" Lacus fenced back, slightly surprised that Montage still had it in him to say something back.
"Is this not a threat?" He countered, chest heaving as his eyes tried to keep in contact with Lacus's.
"My, my." Lacus said, as her smile, brilliant like the sun flashed unto the screen, " A threat is when you are in danger Representative, how can I pose a threat to you when I'm on the other side of the screen? But, unless, this equation is added with another person…"
"What other person?" Montage asked, catching on quickly, his tone more afraid than accusatory. A knock on his office's door and a humble good morning accompanied with the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee answered his question.
"Michelle, you are in early." Montage's voice was squeaky with relief, his body which had been half in and out of the chair slumping back into its comfortable leather. He had been ready to rush towards the door, a fool's option in Lacus's opinion, but she allowed him his moment of relaxation.
"Morning Representative Dirge. Your mail and your coffee, one spoon of sugar and no cream, just as you like it." Michelle murmured, her voice filled with reverence, politeness and just a bit of adoration, just like the kind of female that would praise their men to the skies and pamper their every whim and fancy. It was exactly that reason in which Montage had hired Michelle. Small boned and barely reaching five feet, she was the epitome of what a woman should be, slight, small, pretty, but with plenty of curves. Even while facing him, her eyes never really looked directly into Montage's, always with her head down, never challenging, unlike Lacus, and definitely not like Cagalli. Shy, almost to the point of it being painful, yet Montage liked it, it made him feel like a man.
"Your secretary seems capable. I think her job should be more than just coffee and mail don't you think?"
"She is fine the way she is." Montage defended and he saw movement out of the corner of his eye when Michelle went behind him to tend to the documents that were behind. That had always been the morning ritual, she had insisted that he put his in tray and out tray there, he had protested but that glum look she had produced always made him cave. And therefore he was caught unawares when his body along with his chair was slammed against the hard oak, pain blossoming from his chest and his eyes bulged at the hard impact.
"What?!" He wheezed out, yet could do nothing more as Michelle had wedged him tightly between the working table and his custom made leather chair. Groaning, he made a last effort to free himself by placing his hands onto the table to give himself leverage to push, but his actions ceased when his neck came into contact with a sharp, cool, metal, dangerously close to vital parts of him, pricking sensitive skin that he had just shaved this morning.
"Thank you Michelle." Lacus said, and the reflection of the woman Montage hired as his secretary looked up, his eyes widening as realisation dawned and he finally understood why he never were able to look into her eyes. It would have been a dead giveaway in her job. No secretary's eyes would be as filled with hatred and coldness as the one's she possessed.
"So Montage, can we get down to business now?"
"Where do I start?" Like a petulant child, Montage scowled into the screen and would not look at her. Lacus wanted to laugh at that stupidity but held back. A man could only take so much in one day. She would leave all those for next time. And she will remember. She did not take it lightly when people went behind her back and wove those lies around her, trapping her like how a spider traps an insect. She would be nobody's pawn and she would crush those who stood in her way in stopping Ishida. She would deal with the representative later, for now, she would just listen to what he had to say. She could feel deep within her that satisfaction that she now had just another clue so near, she would best Ishida and she would right the wrongs that she had made.
"Start from the beginning, oh and you don't mind if I record this, do you?" Lacus said, smiling slightly at Montage who merely scowled and shook his head. "Thank you for your consideration, please do start whenever you are prepared to Representative Dirge."
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Kira Yamato rushed pass Athrun Zala for the third time and was definitely closer to Patrick Zala than before. He lunged forward, holding the shield that he had created to the back of him and not the front. He could not attack if there was something blocking him but evidently Athrun had picked up on that fact too. He in turn had appeared so suddenly in front of Kira and threw whatever he had into the next punch, aiming to disable and to defeat. The fight had gone on too long.
Kira felt his vision spin and stars bursting in the darkness as his head snapped viciously to one side, before coming back, backlash, just like what should in physics, and sprawling wantonly onto the hard floor. He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs that had formed and struggled to stand. He will not go down like this, he was so near, too near to just give up like that. Pushing himself up, spitting the mouthful of blood that contaminated his sense of taste, he was not given an opportunity to recover before yet another pain blossomed, this time from his stomach. Athrun had kicked him without mercy and once again he fell back onto the floor, all thoughts gone except for the pain.
Athrun looked down unpityingly at the figure who had curled up into a fetal state, clutching his midsection and gasping, slight moans coming through the ragged breaths. He crouched down and pulled the brown haired teen's head up, looking once more into that violet eyes which were glazed from the two continuous attacks. He should have done this a long time ago, and saved himself the energy. Kira was not a fighter, he would never be on par with his skills, he had toyed with him because he knew Patrick wanted to gather information.
"I told you, you would regret this." He whispered, his breath falling like slight caresses onto Kira's face. Kira whimpered slightly but still he struggled, his hands coming up and trying to push Athrun away. But, his grip on his hair was far too strong.
"I have to try."
"Even with your life?"
"Yes."
And then Kira disappeared.
"What?!" He heard gasps all around, the second shock of the day, and Kira rematerialised in front of Patrick Zala whose eyes were no longer vicious, but wary, surprised and a high dose of fear added in the mix. Kira paused, slightly at lost, the pain still confusing him and that made him lose that vital advantage. A small gust of wind, and suddenly his spine was cushioned by something warm and very alive.
"Drop the knife." Athrun breathed low and dangerous, his breath tickling Kira's neck. There was nothing playful or even remotely alive in that tone of voice making him shiver involuntarily, his lower stomach tightening with that every nuance.
"I said drop the knife…" Athrun said, his voice a monotone but inwardly, something carnal overcame him when Athrun felt Kira stiffen and he had to fight down the urge to bend and justnuzzle that hollow just behind the jaw, it was so tempting and he was in just that position to do so. Maybe he could just do it, a longing so strong that he almost forgot what he was doing, or where he was. He was just lost in the wonder of Kira's scent, a mixture of sweat, vanilla and Kira.
"Athrun! What the hell are you doing?!" Murata Azrael's voice snapped out, high pitched, disgusted which destroyed the atmosphere and startled Athrun awake from his sudden lapse of control.
Athrun lost control…
For a mere boy…
Patrick's eyes resumed its thoughtfulness and a gleam of cunning and interest were sparked and that made Athrun curse more inside. He had not meant for his father to see that scenario, it would just provide him with more excuses and things to manipulate. Athrun's mask dropped, the Shinigami retreating back and his brain replayed all that had happened before. He felt his disgust well up and threatened to overflow, managed not to gag out loud and tried to put on a serious face. But, he knew Patrick had seen more than he was willing to show. And that would be his mistake, a mistake that he would regret forever.
"I think its time to go." Patrick's voice was strangely calm, but Athrun knew the storm was just behind. "We will meet again Kira Yamato…. Meng's experiment."
Author's note: Wow...and I mean wow. 9000 over words...ororororo. This is a present and my compensation to that short chapter last week. Read and review. Tell me if you like it and vice versa. Tell me if there is anything that should be corrected, improved. I look forward to each and every one of your comments.
Next: Its the start of yet another new beginning. What would Lacus learn? Patrick knows about Kira now, what would he do next? What kind of plans has he in mind for Athrun?