"You're still too tense before diving," he tells her three days later. She looks up from where she's positioned on the block, almost falling in surprise. She hadn't heard him enter the pool area.

He's dressed this time and he sets a folding chair down by the side of the pool. She watches as he unfolds it and takes a seat. "What are you doing here?" she demands.

Trowa shrugs, crosses one leg over the other and watches her. "Call it boredom," he replies. She can't read his expression behind the fall of his hair. "Get into position." She stands there, arms crossed, but he just waits, watching her.

"Fine," she grumbles.

"Take your mark." She bends, fingertips and right foot poised at the end of the diving block, left extended back to the edge of the block, knees slightly bent for the push-off. "Toes," he reminds her. She shifts her weight forward, out of her heels.

Bang

She doesn't expect the gunshot and falls face-first into the water. She's spluttering when she surfaces and he's watching her, face impassive. "What the Hell?" she demands, pulling herself out of the pool. "A little warning?"

"Why would I warn you?" he asks. "You don't get a warning in a real race."

"This isn't a real race, its practice," she snaps. He's still staring at her and she ducks her head, not sure what expression is on her face. She hears the chair legs scrape and when she looks up he's walking over to her, starting pistol held loosely in his hand. "What are you doing?"

He shows her the starting pistol, filled with blanks. It's the same ones that are used to start each competition. She gives it a bored look, lifting her eyes to Trowa's face. "It's not real, Mariemaia," he says. "It won't hurt you."

Her back stiffens. "If you're implying that I'm afraid-"

"Heero's told me how you stepped in front of Relena five years ago." He pauses and she fidgets, pulling at the suit strap. She catches herself, forces her hands to be still. "Being shot sticks with someone."

"I'm not afraid," she mutters.

"You'd be an idiot if you weren't," he replies. He holds the pistol out to her and she takes it silently. The metal is cold against her wet fingers. "Go ahead, shoot it."

"What?"

"Put your finger on the trigger and pull."

"I know how to shoot a gun, Mr. Barton." Trowa ignores the jab, simply slides his hands into his pockets and waits. She glares at him. "You're as annoying as Heero Yuy," she snaps. His lips twitch into a brief smile at that and she glares harder. She points the pistol into the pool and pulls the trigger, flinches at the sound echoing off the tile floors.

"Again."

"What does this prove?" she complains.

"Humor me," he replies.

Why should I? is on the tip of her tongue. She bites it back, closes her eyes and pulls the trigger again. She blames him for putting the thought in her head, but suddenly she's seven-year- old again, pushing Relena Peacecraft of all people out of the way as her grandfather shoots. When she opens her eyes Trowa isn't looking at her, he's staring over the pool at the locker room doors. She turns to see what's caught his attention and sighs heavily. She should have known saying his name would summon him.

Heero Yuy is leaning against the wall, scowl firmly in place as he watches them. "Something wrong?" Trowa calls. She darts a glance at him, he sounds almost amused.

Heero pushes off the wall, approaches at a leisurely pace. "Had reports of gunfire from the basement level," he replies. He eyes the starter pistol still clutched in her hand. "Your form is terrible."

"It's his fault," she complains, gesturing at the pilot next to her with the gun. Heero's eyebrows draw up, looking pointedly at the gun still in her hand. "I just wanted to swim," she explains, pointing the gun toward the ground once more. "He forced me to start shooting."

Heero's lips twitch. "Yes, he has that effect sometimes." In spite of herself, she finds herself smiling. She reschools her face quickly enough, watching both pilots warily. One Gundam pilot is bad enough, two is the start of an infestation. "What are you doing?" He's looking over her head, addressing Trowa instead.

"She needs to be comfortable with the pistol rapport," Trowa states. "She tenses too much."

Heero nods, is interrupted by a buzzing sound. Frowning, he pulls the phone out and flips it open. "It's fine, just a training exercise," he states. He shuts the device off before whoever is on the other end can reply. "What about the firing range?"

Trowa shakes his head. "She should be comfortable; I don't think the range would help."

"Excuse me," she interrupts, "I am right here. You don't need to talk over me."

Heero crosses his arms, staring at her. "Let me have the pistol," he says finally. She holds it out to him and he takes it, dries it off with the end of his shirt. He looks at Trowa. "Shooting it won't matter much. She needs to jump when she hears it, right?"

"Yes, the goal is to enter the water when she hears it," Trowa replies. He looks at her and she shivers as the air conditioning system kicks on, chilling her damp skin. "Get back on the starting block," he instructs.

"I have a coach, you know?" she asks. Her feet betray her, following orders automatically.

"They're doing a terrible job," Trowa replies. "Take your mark." She bends obediently. Her fingertips are pale against the starting block; her right leg throbs as she gets it into position. "Hips up," Trowa instructs. She moves forward, ignores the burn.

The pistol goes off and she tenses, pushes off and enters the water. She's still too slow, but at least it was cleaner than her last one. She surfaces to both of the pilots watching her. Heero's holding the pistol at his side, nodding to whatever Trowa is saying to him. The sound of the shot is still ringing in the pool area, drowning out their words. She swims back, pulls herself out. Neither pilot offers her a hand. She isn't sure if she's pleased or annoyed by it.

She climbs back onto the block without them having to tell her. She's bending into position when Trowa approaches. "Put your left leg forward."

"What?"

"Switch your legs." He looks at her curiously. "That's allowed right?"

"I think so?" she replies, uncertain.

"Then switch legs." She shifts, moving her left leg forward and her right leg back. Her left toes curl around the edge of the block, her fingers gripping the edge on either side of her leg. "Hips up," he says. She feels his hands on her hips, adjusting her position. She glances over and sees Heero watching them critically.

"You were right, her leg isn't trembling as much now," Heero comments.

"I told you the left was stronger," Trowa replies. He pushes her head down so her chin is tucked against her chest. "Head down."

"I know," she replies. She feels her shoulders tense, waiting for the shot to go off.

"Close your eyes," Heero states. "You don't need your eyes to hear the pistol."

She hesitates, but when neither pilot seems inclined to do anything else, she closes her eyes. She can hear her breathing, deep but bordering on rapid, the lap of the water in the pool, and the air conditioning whining as it dies off. She counts twenty-five heartbeats, but there's no pistol fire. She opens her eyes, starts to lift her head, and it rings out.

She falls headfirst into the pool and comes up spluttering.

Heero looks unimpressed when she drags herself out. "I told you to keep your eyes shut."

"You were taking too long!" she protests.

Heero ignores her, checking the magazine. "One blank left," he states. He looks up at Trowa while Mariemaia gets back into position. "Did you bring extras?"

"I don't usually carry around blanks."

Heero shakes his head, replacing the magazine. "But you still underestimate how much ammo you need," he retorts. He looks at her and frowns. "Last one, make it count."

"No pressure," she mumbles. She curls her left toes against the front of the block, bends her shoulders forward while she lifts her hips. She glances at Trowa. "Good?" He nods and she tucks her chin in, smiling smugly.

"Focus," Heero states. "Keep your eyes closed. The shot sets you free, remember that."

She closes her eyes, breathes deep and even. On her eleventh heartbeat the pistol goes off and she pushes off, arms coming forward and chin tucked down. She keeps her body tense, enters the water and begins to kick. She surfaces and swims back to them. She can't help the smile that's stretching her face. "Good?" she asks.

"Good," Trowa agrees.

"Still a bit slow," Heero replies. Trowa sighs and Heero shrugs. "Cleaner than before," he allows. He offers her a hand and she hesitates before reaching up and taking it. He pulls her effortlessly from the pool and she shivers. He hands the pistol over to Trowa. "I'll pick up more blanks after work."

Trowa nods and hands her the towel she'd brought in. She wraps it around herself and blinks at them. "You're still going to help me?" she asks, surprised.

Trowa shrugs. "I told you, boredom."

Heero's look is more assessing. "You have potential," he states. She shivers, but not from the cold this time. Coming from him, it sounds almost like a benediction. He glances at Trowa as the three of them make their way to the locker room doors. "Wufei was looking for you."

He nods and then looks at Mariemaia. "We'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow? It's Saturday!"

"Eight o'clock," Heero states.

"Wait," Mariemaia protests. But they've pushed through the men's room door and she's left shivering in the empty pool room. "Ugh," she groans, shoving through into the women's locker room. She almost runs smack into a woman. "Oh, sorry."

"It's alright, good practice?" She looks up to see Lady Une standing there, hair down and blazer draped over an arm. "I was just coming to collect you. I managed to get off early, how about we have an early night-in?"

"Sounds good. I just need to change."

Her guardian nods, gives her a smile. "I'll wait for you upstairs?"

"Okay."

She rinses off, enjoying the warmth from the shower, before pulling on her change of clothes. She stuffs her school uniform into the bottom of her bag, drops her towel on top of it, and then the bag with her wet swimsuit and cap. She's still finger combing her hair when she reaches the lobby upstairs where Lady Une is talking with Noin.

"Ah, here she is," Lady Une says. "Have a nice weekend, Noin."

"You too, Ma'am. Mariemaia, nice to see you again." Noin gives them a bright smile as she sips a cup of coffee.

"Yeah, you too," she replies. She hitches her bag higher on her shoulder and Lady Une leads the way out to the parking garage and the waiting car. They climb in, the driver shutting the door behind Lady Une.

"How was practice?" Lady Une asks. She settles back into the seat, watching Mariemaia attentively.

"Fine," she replies. "I worked on my push-off."

Lady Une nods, checks her phone when it beeps, then slides it back into the pocket of her blazer. "I thought I heard voices when I went to get you." Mariemaia keeps facing forward, but she lets her eyes dart over to check Lady Une's expression. It's the blandly curious one she reserves for politicians and young trainees. The one that says she isn't paying attention when she really is. "Was the pool crowded today?"

"No, not really," she replies. She fidgets with the strap of her bag and feels her damp hair drip onto her neck. "Trowa Barton and Heero Yuy were there," she says, pauses. "They're helping me with diving." She glances over to see Lady Une's face. Her guardian looks genuinely surprised. "Trowa," the word still tastes like ashes in her mouth, "said you mentioned I was on the swim team."

"Yes, when I was going to your meet a few weeks ago," she says slowly, thinking back over it. "They're helping you?"

Mariemaia shrugs. "They said they were bored."

The car slows, turns into their driveway. "Are you alright with that?" Lady Une asks. "I can tell them not to-"

"I can take care of myself, thanks," Mariemaia replies. She opens the door as they pull to a stop in front of the house.

"I know that," Lady Une replies, getting out and letting the car door slam behind her. "I was just offering." She moves ahead and Mariemaia follows her up to the front door quietly. "You don't have to fight me on everything."

Mariemaia closes her eyes, blows out a breath. She follows Lady Une inside and sighs. "I know. I'm not." She hitches her bag over her shoulder. "I'm supposed to go back at eight tomorrow morning."

Lady Une's eyebrows lift, disappearing under her bangs. "You, willingly up before eleven on a Saturday?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mariemaia grumbles. She kicks off her shoes and heads for the stairs. "I have that meet coming up, might as well see if they can improve my start time."

She hears Lady Une laugh from the foyer. "I'll tell Henri to have the car ready then," she calls up the stairs. "How about we order in a pizza since you have an early start tomorrow?"

Mariemaia pauses on the landing, hangs over the banister to see Lady Une peering up at her. "Pizza sounds good; I'll be down in a few minutes."

"The eggplant one?" Mariemaia nods and Lady Une smiles. "I'll get some baba au rhums for dessert as well; we haven't had those in a while." Lady Une disappears toward the kitchen and Mariemaia continues down the hall to her bedroom.

She tosses the bag of wet clothes into her shower and throws the towel over her door to dry, shoves her school uniform into the hamper. She pauses, looking at the vanity by the door and her fingers reach out, brush over the smiling photo of her and Leia that is stuck into the corner of the frame. Below it is an old news article photo of her uncle Trowa. She feels her stomach tighten. The only photo she has of him and it's from something The World published ages ago.

Lady Une calls her name and she swallows, presses her fingers to the photo of Uncle Trowa. Her guardian calls again and she pulls her hand away. "I'm coming!" she yells. She pulls herself away from the dead, hurrying downstairs to the warm light spilling from the kitchen.