Bel Niente nella Guerra

"Beautiful Nothing in the War"

A/N: Thus begins chapter 5!! I'm pretty psyched to get into this part of the story. I really enjoyed writing it. I'm heading to a convention at the end of February down in Orlando, and though I'm not going for fanfic writing, I'm always happy to talk about it, so if anyone's going to MegaCon, hit me up. I'll be at Orange 10.

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AC 192, August 17; 2215
Suite 310, Thalia Hotel
Prague

A firm hand shoved at Treize, and the ginger haired captain fell back against the couch. He could smell the grappa on Antonino's breath. The man had indulged himself once they'd left their company. It was unlike him. Drinking had always seemed beneath the barone, to Treize, but here he was, late at night with the smell of it thick on his breath. How long since this was a common occurrence? Since the beginning of the month… since his sister's accident, the Barone had been sullen and withdrawn when in private.

Perhaps, thought Treize, he would hear out of it this evening.

"Something else on your mind, Anto?" Treize asked, adjusting his collar at the rough shove he'd received from the older man. Somewhat unusual, they were rarely rough with one another like that.

"You have not said what the outcome of the investigation is," Antonino replied, turning his back on Treize and heading back for the tray that the room service had been helpful enough to bring to them. The noise of the pouring liquid was faint, but in the empty room, it filled the space.

"You haven't said what the outcome of your stay in Prague has been, or why you called me here so urgently."

The dark haired older man sipped from his glass and did not comment.

Treize watched his friend. His eyes followed the line of his arm, the gap between the angle of it and the man's chin. This was not something he wanted to discuss with Antonino. This wasn't the purpose of his visit… or at least it had not been the purpose of Treize's visit. "I'm going to space at the end of the month. X-18999."

"If you would fill me in on the details of the investigation…" Antonino trailed off, as though he anticipated the response he would get. After again refilling his glass, he headed from the tray of room service to stand before one of the tall windows in the room. Setting his glass on the sill through the curtain, he drew the curtains open to reveal the evening streets of Prague beyond the glass.

"It's military, Anto," Treize said. "You told me that it tired you to hear the particulars of my daily operation, provided I had the proper route to reach my goal. Your sister should not be influencing your opinions so much."

Antonino took off his gloves and tossed them onto the table near the window. He lifted a bare hand to his temple. Treize's eyes followed the motion of the Barone's hand as it brushed the skin on the side of his face, and Treize sighed inwardly. This… doting brother thing was somewhat foreign to his image of the dark haired man.

"Anto," he tried, voice appeasing. "The technicians are almost positive it was a manufacturing error in one of the combustion units in the fuel tank. The heat from the ignition sequence melted the casing on the air circulation tubing which emits a gas-"

"You may spare me the official report, Treize," Antonino said. "If I wanted that, I could read the apology card the commandant sent to my secretary."

Treize rose from his seat on the couch. "Then what do you want, Anto?" he asked, crossing to stand beside him at the window.

"The truth," came the soft reply.

Standing beside one another, their shoulders almost touching, Treize shook his head a little and looked down. "You are not an easy man to please, Anto," he spoke in a gentle voice. "When I have the truth, you will have it of me."

A soft murmur responded to that, perhaps acceptance.

Treize knew that his words were working. Antonino was relaxing, perhaps despite himself, perhaps because of his companion at the window's edge. It was hard for Treize to pinpoint exactly how he knew the older man was relaxing. Perhaps it was something physical, or perhaps it was the tone of his voice as he spoke in Italian.

"What would you like until then?"

"Rest without fear," Antonino said.

"I can offer you part of that," Treize replied, putting a hand onto the Barone's shoulder. "But each man's fear must be dealt with in the depths of his own heart."

"You speak poetry or nonsense," Antonino replied with a shake of his head. "And I'm too drunk to tell which. Get out of my way, Treize, I need a bath."

AC 192, August 23; 1340
Lake Victoria Specials Academy
Northwestern Tanzania

Postponed. Delayed. Lucrezia was not in classes with the other cadets. She was not back on base. He could not see her. And it was driving Zechs to distraction.

Treize did not believe that the accident warranted special attention from the entire Corps of Cadets. Instead, he assigned other work. Strategy, intelligence, field medicine. Arms practice. Even with the simulators to keep him occupied outside of classes, Zechs felt idle. He found that he hated to feel idle.

It was as he paced the halls of the barrack that he knew what he wanted.

He wanted a sword.

Perhaps no one remaining would understand his desire. To lose himself in the thrust and parry of fencing… perhaps the other students had never done it. Like hand to hand combat, the cadets all drilled with swords, practiced fencing… but it wasn't the same as the way he felt when he held one. It couldn't be the same for them.

Since there was no one to practice with, he contented himself with returning to the library. The afternoon sun hung overhead, mild in the south African sky. It made the inside of his helmet warm, and his temples sweated against the restriction of the padding. A reassuring annoyance, it gave Zechs something to focus on.

Several other cadets drifted by. The middle of the day was open time, and the cadets took advantage of it in different ways. Some did light exercise so they could be out in the fresh air instead of studying… basketball, soccer. Others, like Zechs, went to the library to work on assignments. Some rested.

The ones resting, Zechs thought, were the ones who had the least likelihood of passing on to become a member of the Specials.

He kept his eyes trained on his goal, despite the discomfort and the heat. He was focused until he saw the car down at the sally port. From the back of it climbed several figures, one of which was smaller than the others.

He could not call Lucrezia tall. It was not one of her attributes that he could praise. She was beautiful, her eyes were lively, her skin was smooth despite what puberty tried to do to it… but she was not tall. Her shoulders were not horribly broad… But he could tell who she was in a crowd from several hundred feet, so picking her out of a group of three was easily done. He stopped, standing still, and stared at her as she left the two men behind and headed up the walkway in the direction of the barracks.

Lucrezia paused when she saw Zechs standing staring at her. Looking to the side, she tried to figure a better way back to the barracks, but a part of her… an angry part, wanted to run into him.

They were ten feet apart, it wouldn't be impossible.

And Zechs was staring. She started to speak, but he beat her to that. "It is good to see you back on your feet, Lucrezia."

Easy… familiar… it pissed her off. After what he'd said? "You of all people should know that sort of a thing isn't enough to keep me out of commission for long."

A small smile pulled at Zechs' lips. "You are correct."

"If you'll excuse me," she said, stepping in the direction of the barracks. No sense staying out in the open. If she started breathing heavily or showed a sign of weakness, everyone would see it. She didn't want that. Especially not with Zechs. For him to see… the thought almost made her angry enough to hyperventilate.

Zechs dipped his head. She was returned. It was enough. She walked on, and he headed in his own direction. The doors of the library opened and he welcomed the quiet. It was enough… to see her and know that she was well.

His chest hurt to think about it. He couldn't admit to Treize and certainly not Antonino why he'd done what he'd done in the hangar. He didn't consider himself to be a particularly heroic individual. There wasn't much special about his actions. He could fight, but he was a failure no matter how well he did that.

A child of his parents should not fight. A true son of Cinq…

He could almost shake his head. Apparently he was no true child of Cinq. Apparently he was not his father's son. He bore a different name than the one he was born with, he acted in a manner unfitting a member of his family.

Milliardo was dead and could have no claim on anyone.

But it seemed that Zechs had a heart as well.

The Baronessa had proved it to him. Whoever he was, she was able to get through, it seemed. It puzzled him. The stacks of books he stepped into had no answers to that question. He headed for the mobile suit manuals, wanting to do more reading on the Aeries units. The Taurus would be next, after the assessment, but he needed to know more about the unit that had exploded.

She was unpacking her bag when Stangel cleared his throat. Glancing up, she offered him a little bit of a smile. He smiled back, and moved over to give her a hug. It was unexpected. She hadn't realized he considered her that much of a friend that he would…

Men could be… surprising.

She smiled more fully and patted his back before pulling away from him. "So… I take it you missed me."

"Well with only Zechs really to talk to…" Stangel said with a shrug.

Her smile faded away, and she turned back to unpack her laundry from the bag that it sat waiting in. It was so wrinkled, she might as well send it back and have it cleaned again. How many weeks had it been sitting there waiting for her? Reminding her classmates that she was potentially out of commission for good?

Was it Treize's doing?

"Hey," Stangel said when she closed up on him again. "Don't get like that. Do you resent what he did for you? Being rescued from an exploding mobile suit doesn't make you any less of a soldier."

Freezing in place, Lucrezia stared at her hands.

Her shoulders trembled, and she could feel it. She could almost smell the smoke around her… the light from the displays burning through… what did the meters read? And then blackness…

"As well as I can tell, he's been really worried about you. The two of you seemed to be friends, before. You're certainly in a class all to yourselves when it comes to marks and comprehension. Evenly matched at the assessment and-"

"He… saved me?" Lucrezia's voice was soft. She wasn't sure what to make of it. What she felt about that. After what he'd said the night before the accident… the incident… the explosion… Her brother had warned her that if she wasn't careful, the military men would think poorly of her, and he had asked her if that was what she wanted people to think of her as the last female member of their family.

It stung.

Stangel blinked and nodded. When she didn't reply, he said aloud, "Yes, h-he did."

So Zechs' words had hurt her, when he said what he said. But now… now to hear that he had been the one who had pulled her out of the unit… "Tell me about it."

Peter shifted on his feet, and when Lucrezia turned to look at him, sitting on her bunk, she thought he looked very young under his mop of crew cut reddish hair. It made his skin look pale, and the way he looked withdrawn at the question drove home the difference between the bookish cadet and the rest of the unit.

"Stangel," she said, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Tell me."