"You're sure he said it was okay?" Lady Une questions.
Mariemaia plays with the Newton's cradle on Lady Une's desk, listening to the balls click against each other. Lady Une looks up from the report she's reading, frowning, and covers Mariemaia's hand. "Yes," Mariemaia replies. "He said it was fine."
Lady Une nods, eyes returning to the report. "Okay, if you want to stay, it's fine with me. If not, Henri will be here in twenty minutes."
"Alright," she replies. "I'll see you later tonight, enjoy your dinner."
Lady Une snorts as Mariemaia grabs her bag from the office floor. "It's with the ESUN President, it won't be enjoyable." Mariemaia shrugs. "Enjoy practice!" Lady Une calls as Mariemaia exits the office.
Trowa is waiting for her outside the locker rooms again, dressed as he was a couple days ago. "You missed practice yesterday," she states.
"I had to do something else," he replies. She frowns but he doesn't elaborate. "Go get changed."
"Yoga again?" she asks. Trowa nods and she sighs, disappearing into the locker room to change. She emerges a few minutes later and falls in step with him as he leads her to one of the private rooms. A few Preventers look up curiously as they pass. "I don't know if Mr. Yuy," she pauses as Trowa smiles, "what's so funny?"
"Just trying to remember the last time someone called Heero Mr. Yuy," he replies, closing the door behind them. He moves over to the mats and sits down. "Go on, what were you saying?"
She huffs, taking a seat across from him. "I told him yesterday that Henri couldn't pick me up. He said it wouldn't be a problem."
"It won't," Trowa replies. He folds himself into a lotus position. "Clear your mind, we're going to start with breathing exercises today."
As the minutes tick by she feels herself beginning to relax. Trowa keeps his voice soft, soothing, and the positions themselves aren't difficult. The difficulty comes in maintaining them for prolonged periods. After thirty or so minutes she hears the door open and close quietly and knows Heero has joined them even though he's silent.
"It's helping to strengthen your muscles," Trowa explains as he helps her into downward dog. She groans at the strain in her hamstrings. "Breathe in and relax."
"I hate yoga," she grumbles.
"Yoga is good. You need to control your breathing to swim and you need to build your strength." She sees him shoot a glance over her back. "More people should do yoga."
"Where did you learn yoga?" she asks as they move into warrior pose.
He shrugs. "One of the mercenaries I grew up with did it every morning. Said it helped center him before battle. I started following along."
"And did it help?" she asks.
He gives her a considering look. "He died, I didn't." She falls quiet and he moves into a sitting pose again. "Meditation time." She sits across from him once more, sees Heero watching them from where he's leaning against the wall. "Lay down, you'll do corpse pose this time."
She returns her attention to Trowa, lies down on the mat, and closes her eyes. His voice is soft, instructing her on relaxing each muscle from her toes to her shoulders. "Relax your neck, your jaw…take a deep breath. Feel the tension drain out of your forehead, quiet your thoughts. Breathe…" She's drifting, on the edge of sleep and waking. "Breathe in, out, open your eyes."
She opens her eyes, sits up and yawns. Heero is still leaning against the wall, still watching them intently. She hears her stomach rumble and Trowa smiles. "I think that's enough for today," he says quietly.
. . ... . .
"How was your dinner?" Mariemaia asks.
Lady Une jumps from where she's hanging her coat up. "Why are you still up? It's eleven and a school night."
"Wanted to make sure you made curfew," she replies. She sits up from where she'd been lounging on the sofa, watching crummy reality TV specials. Sometimes she thinks humanity would be better off if she had succeeded. "How was dinner?"
Lady Une drops onto the sofa next to her, rubbing the soles of her feet. "You know the President," she sighs. "He talks so much for saying so little." Mariemaia laughs and Lady Une gives her a fond smile. "How was practice? Get home okay?"
"If we ignore Heero Yuy's questionable driving skills, then yes. At least we arrived in one piece." She stretches and reaches for her water glass, taking a long swallow. "Practice was fine."
"Do you think they're helping you?" Lady Une questions, reaching up to undo her braided up-do.
Mariemaia shrugs. "I think so? It's different than how Coach Maes runs practice. But I am better on my push-off, Coach Maes even said so this morning."
Lady Une nods, before sighing and pushing to her feet. "Come on, bedtime. I'm exhausted; I don't know how you aren't."
Mariemaia shuts off the television and follows Lady Une up the stairs. "Have you ever done yoga?" she asks.
Lady Une pauses and half turns to look at her over her shoulder. "No, it seemed rather pointless. Do you want to?"
"I was just wondering," Mariemaia replies, shrugging. "Night!" She runs past Lady Une and into her room. Faintly, she hears her guardian wish her a good night as she closes the door.
. . ... . .
Mariemaia falls into a routine. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she gets up, goes to morning practice with Coach Maes, attends school, and then meets Trowa for yoga. Tuesdays and Thursdays are pool days in the afternoons. Sometimes Heero is there, sometimes Trowa, sometimes both are there, talking quietly before changing something in her training.
Her right leg doesn't tremble as much and she's able to get enough power in it for a decent push-off. Heero still says she's too slow and Trowa still says she needs more strengthening, but it is progress. And enough for her teammates to start noticing.
"Who did Mummy pay off to get you a better spot on the team?" Larissa sneers after practice one day.
"Come on, Lar, you know she hasn't got a mother," Minerva adds. Mariemaia keeps her back to them, calmly taking her clothes out of her locker. "She's just Une's pet, that's what Daddy always says." Minerva lets her eyes sweep coldly over Mariemaia. "A mongrel pretending to be a show dog."
"Silly me, I forgot," Larissa replies, knocking her shoulder hard against Mariemaia's back as she passes.
Mariemaia grits her teeth, changing quickly into her school uniform and foregoing her morning shower. "Maybe it was the Vice Foreign Minister, you know she still feels sorry for little Mariemaia," Minerva adds in a mock whisper. "You've seen the scars on her back, haven't you?" Mariemaia can hear the two girls laugh as they head to the showers. She slams her locker shut and heads to class early.
. . ... . .
"What's wrong?" Trowa asks that afternoon during yoga. "You're more tense than usual."
"Nothing," she snaps. She tries to focus, pull her mind away from the stupid girls at school, but it always reverts back to their ringing laughter and snide smiles.
"Marie," he says, "what is it?"
"Don't call me that. Why are you helping me?" she demands. "Were you told to?"
Trowa looks surprised and he tilts his head, studying her curiously. "No," he says. "No one told me to help you."
"Then why?" she demands. "Why do you care?" She drops the warrior pose, standing with her arms crossed and glaring at him. "You aren't my uncle, you aren't my friend, and you don't even really work here! Yet you show up and act like you care or something. Why?"
Trowa studies her for a moment before he sits down on one of the mats. "Sit down, Mariemaia." She sits, still glaring at him, and waits. "I was bored," he says finally. "It's downtime at the circus."
"So you moonlight as a swimming coach?"
"I come here and see what's going on in the world," he replies. He keeps his gaze level as he watches her and she fights to return it and not squirm. "I never pretended to be your uncle."
"No," she agrees, voice soft. She thinks of her Uncle Trowa's laugh, the way his voice carried across a room. He was larger than life, able to lift her up and swing her around until she felt sick with happiness. This Trowa is quiet, patient, and watchful. "You're nothing like him. But you kept his name."
"I did," Trowa agrees. He reaches out, brushes the tears from her cheeks. She jerks back at his touch. She didn't realize she'd started crying. She scrubs at the tear tracks angrily and he returns to watching her. "What brought this on?"
"I'm tired of only getting things because someone pities me."
"I don't pity you, Mariemaia." She looks up quickly. He's frowning and she isn't sure if it's in annoyance or confusion. It's hard to read his face behind the fall of his hair. "I don't know anyone who does."
"Miss Relena-"
"Pities your circumstances, not you."
"She told everyone I was just a child, a pawn in Dekim's plans," she snaps, voice bitter.
"If she hadn't, you would have been tried for war crimes," Trowa replies. "She bought you your freedom by asking people to feel compassion for a little girl who was just shot by her grandfather." Mariemaia is silent and Trowa sighs, glances at the clock. "Come on; let's work on some meditation before you head home. Lie down and close your eyes."