Worth Remembering
CE 72 June 13, Scandinavia
Namarra checked the time again, her right foot bouncing anxiously over her left knee as her fingers passed along the outside of the portable coffee mug set on the table in front of her. It was a hot day and the Natural was sitting outside a corner café, but not even her poorly chosen jeans, black, sun-soaking T-shirt, and perspiration dripping down the nape of her neck could distract her from the fact Lexi hadn't picked up her call yet.
And that was her third attempt.
"C'mon, Lexi…" Namarra grumbled, pulling the phone back to hang up and then call again right away. She checked the watch at her wrist and huffed. It should have been around 1300 in the PLANTs and Lexi never missed a scheduled call-in with her. Namarra rarely jumped to conclusions and she didn't want to then, determined that the first time she was out on her own she wouldn't get paranoid.
"Your nervousness is making me nervous," Dearka grumbled, sitting across from the Natural and staring a solid level of annoyance in her direction. Dearka was her unwilling companion that morning. Unwilling on Namarra's part because she didn't feel like she needed an escort, and unwilling on Dearka's end because, no matter how far away from his studies, he was a university student and that meant he needed to attend his classes. That particular morning, Miriallia was shopping with her grandma and he was joining Namarra to sit at the university, the blond watching his lecture online and Namarra scouring the PhD thesis section in hopes of finding her mother's report since she had no luck with her father's.
Surprisingly, there was one thing Sora BIO was good for. Based on her newly altered profile, she now had a connection to the Scandinavian Science Academy and an easy access to the library and its resource materials. It was the top university in the kingdom and partially funded by the government, which meant a couple of things, but one thing in particular. Even if her parents hadn't attended that specific establishment, she would still have access to the other universities' databases simply because the hub was at SSA's library. Namarra had to admit her memory was skewed and she couldn't quite remember where her parents had gone to university, but she did recognize the name even before Tsugu had mentioned it in Japan. That meant it was a good place to start and with a little further help from Lathan, Sean, and Noah, she had a shiny student ID and her only limitation was time.
"You're here by choice, you know, so you'd better—" the Natural began, but didn't finish, the call finally going through.
"Hey, it's me. Pip's sleeping," came Yzak's unexpected voice, Namarra pausing before responding.
"Sleeping?" She pulled the phone back to check the time again. "You tire her out already?"
Yzak snorted and said something amounting to "Cute" before she heard him make his way across the room to open the refrigerator. "Work woke us both up this morning; I only just got back." She gave a hum in response and then heard him give a long, exasperated sigh, his next words making her smile. "What, does she think we're a family of five?" If Namarra had to bet, Lexi had been put in charge of buying the groceries for that weekend and the redhead had a tendency to just grab any and everything, especially if there was no list in her hands. Namarra had a feeling each of Yzak's shelves were filled and not just filled, but stuffed. Neither of them was big on cooking either and even the Natural couldn't hold in the laughter at that realization.
"Before you get huffy and irrationally angry about your girlfriend stocking your refrigerator, can I give you a message to relay?" she managed to sneak in amid his mutterings.
"Yeah, go for it."
"I'm gonna extend my stay another week, I think."
"You've only been there a few days; search going that poorly?" Yzak asked, Namarra hearing him finally shut the refrigerator door.
"Nah, that's going alright. Dearka's helping me today, so I have a feeling it'll be a good day."
"I am?" the blond asked loudly, his take-away mug dropping from his lips back to the table.
"I'm just adding a new location to my itinerary and it's a couple cities over," she continued, ignoring his outburst. "Gonna be a rough one so I'm trying to give myself as many days as I can."
"You know, Pip could be there in a heartbeat." It was a sincere statement and her mind wandered at the thought. She could ask for the redhead to join her, but somehow it felt like a step backwards and as her eyes took in the central square with the many tourists and locals alike, she realized this journey was doing her some good. Her happiness was hers to create and as her friends began carving out their lives after the war, she was starting to finally figure out she needed to do that too.
"I know, and I appreciate you saying that," the Natural began, "but there's no way you can eat all that food alone and I'm more worried about you than me." She followed up with an, "I'll be fine," as he gave a short laugh.
"Alright, I'll let her know. Anything else?"
"I'll be out of contact most of the day today, but I'll try to check in later."
"Roger that." She heard the beginnings of a yawn as he settled in with something on a plate, the fork scraping against the porcelain and she shook her head.
"Now, go sleep. You sound awful."
"That's the plan," he responded and they said some goodbyes before she shut off the call and looked straight into the eyes of her newly unamused tablemate.
"I have my class, you know," Dearka began, pulling at the collar of his white button-up shirt, the top couple of buttons undone a long time ago. The fact they had been forced to sit longer outside than initially planned didn't help matters either. They were just supposed to sit down for a few moments to call Lexi and then then they were to head out. What it had turned into instead was a bake fest and a very grumpy blond.
"I know and I was hoping you could help me afterwards. What do you think?"
"Don't you normally ask these things before you announce them as fact?"
Namarra shrugged. "I'm asking now. And besides, at least the library has air con."
Dearka pulled at his collar again, finishing the last of his tea and standing. "That is by far the most tempting bit of that offer. Come on, I don't want to miss my lecture." He shifted uncomfortably in his dark brown, khaki trousers, before slinging his backpack over his right shoulder.
Namarra nodded and finished the last gulp of her coffee before grabbing her own backpack, dropping the empty container into the trash bin as they walked past.
The Natural had expected something when she had stepped out of the airport taxi that first time near the city center, if she was being honest. Perhaps some tug—some recognition, but instead, when her feet had touched aged cobblestone and her eyes had traversed the scenery of the modern town purposely built to match the architecture of a time only written in history books, she had felt nothing. Well, nothing but the panic at feeling nothing. The voices around her were a mixture of Swedish, Danish, and Norwegian and the overwhelm came quickly as her brain tried to piece together so many things at once. She had almost bailed, actually, the only thing keeping her feet firmly planted on the ground being that the taxi had already driven off, money in hand.
Namarra took a deep breath after recalling the moment, following Dearka to the nearest metro station and chasing him down the steps. He had caught onto the modernized system quickly, though there was something similar in the PLANTs. Each station listing was in a multitude of languages so anyone could navigate relatively easily and, in fact, Dearka could get by just fine in English though, much to Namarra's surprise, he had begun learning Swedish.
The Council kids, Namarra had discovered, had to know at least two languages each to enter their respective schooling. English, along with French, were the chosen two, from what she could tell. For some reason, French was a high-society language in many of the PLANT social circles so Athrun, Dearka, and Yzak all knew it fluently, though they were also all overachievers, so each one had another language to their name. Athrun's was Russian and he was adamantly taking Japanese lessons, Yzak's was Bengali because of some distant family connections in that region and Namarra was fairly certain Lexi was teaching him Portuguese, and finally, Dearka knew Hindi as well as learning Swedish. The Natural didn't often feel the gap in their genetic makeups until moments like these and she had to quicken her pace to catch up to Dearka's longer legs. Maybe schooling alone—or lack there of, in Namarra's case—was the primary reason for the gap, but Namarra had even caught Lacus speaking to Kira in Japanese once and the Pink Princess had only just begun her studies.
Namarra did take pride in the moments she could help though, having to step in when Dearka's card wouldn't scan correctly to open the gate. She liked to be of use and despite her rather rude thinking, she did take vain joy in watching Dearka flounder and then thank her after the ordeal. It was nice to feel like the expert in something.
"We should arrive there in plenty of time," the Natural explained, the two of them just getting through door to the carriage before it shut.
"I want to look over some notes before the lecture anyway," he explained, his eyes drifting off to look at the map above his head while his right hand held onto the black handle dangling from the ceiling.
Yes, as studious as ever and Namarra had to hold in her grumble, knowing her homework was unfinished and splayed haphazardly across her hotel room bed. She liked to think her friends were just hard workers, but she did often feel lazy when she compared her slowly-checked-off to-do list with the speed to which the Coordinators checked things off.
"Don't," Mu chided in her head. "We might all move at different paces, but we're the same in the things that matter." Namarra released a breath as the smile tugged up the sides of her mouth. Even when he wasn't there he always knew what to say, the Natural remembering a partial conversation about something similar. She even felt Orga's phantom finger flick her on her forehead and she hid her small chuckle. No, she shouldn't let any of that keep her down.
They arrived at the university and followed the pathways to one of the buildings near the back of the complex. It stood three-stories tall, the walls completely glass save for one side. Despite that, the building never heated up during the day, the windows tinted to keep out the sun and the light doing nothing more than illuminate the various rooms reserved for studying, presentations, digital researching, and lounging.
The younger man at reception led them to their own room near the middle of the building, Dearka's request for some privacy taken seriously and Namarra welcomed the seclusion as well. They set up their respective machines as soon as they sat down and Namarra excused herself to check out the thesis collection as Dearka readied himself for his lecture.
Namarra knew the route by that time, scanning her ID at the door and stepping up to the terminal. The room was small, with one, metal bookshelf standing in the middle of the floor that held ten individual pads charging on two of the shelves. The entire archive was digitized, the main terminal being the only access to the complete storage. Namarra had learned a few days ago there was no one with the surname of "Legund" so she had begun pulling up all reports done by "Lena" and "Axel." She had just finished going through the Axels yesterday, so she pulled up all the Lenas, breathing through the panic that swirled into her chest at the number 723 that had popped up on the screen. Over 700 archived reports for individuals named Lena. Releasing a slow breath, she nodded, pressing a button at the bottom of the screen to send all titles and reports to one of the devices on the bookshelf. She would have to sit and syphon through all 723, jot down the titles that might relate to what her parents had been working on and then read that small list of reports. Walking over to the bookshelf, she grabbed the silver machine and nodded, leaving the room and mustering as much perseverance as she could in her walk back to the room.
CE 72 June 13, Orb
Athrun looked on as Cagalli and Lacus went through some stretches, his ears perked and vaguely listening in on the conversation Waltfeld was having with Kira. The girls were across from him on the one of two blue mats in the training room, an assorted amount of weightlifting equipment filling up the rest of the space to his right. Waltfeld and Kira were near those machines, both at a table as the older man went through how to take apart and clean Kira's new semi-automatic of choice. Their last lesson had been at the range and apparently that didn't go well, Athrun's mouth slipping into a frown as he recounted Waltfeld's tale. While Kira was going through the motions as directed, even Waltfeld noticed there was nothing there, just—well—motions. Kira had a decent shot, but his accuracy was on par with Cagalli's and Lacus hadn't even picked up a gun outside of their laser-tag escapades. The Pink Princess was going to be in Waltfeld's guiding hands the next lesson, the ex-commander thinking if Kira had some sort of visual of what he should be protecting the younger soldier might gain a little more purpose. That meant Athrun would be teaching Cagalli on his own and he tapped his arm in thought. He had a feeling that wasn't going to go well and he debated calling in Lexi for support. It would be better for Cagalli to work with someone closer to her body build for the early training at least, but there was more to it and he heaved a long sigh.
Cagalli didn't listen to him very well.
Stubbornness? Maybe. Power play? Maybe. Athrun released another sigh. He really didn't know, but it was starting to look like a family trait and not one his newly forming teaching skills could handle just yet.
The other tightrope he had to navigate was how much to actually put them through. He wasn't sending them to war, he was just making them less vulnerable. Sir Pink blinked and flapped its ears in the corner near Lacus, spewing a phrase that made both girls laugh and his finger began tapping faster. His whole reason for adding the CA system to Sir Pink was to keep Lacus and, by extension, Kira safer but the likelihood of the girls having to go into hand-to-hand combat was low. His ears perked at the conversation with Waltfeld and Kira again, hearing the younger Coordinator apologize about something and Waltfeld's quick chuckle after. Maybe he should focus entirely on firearms? But then what would be the point of his entire security unit?
"They're not doing that poorly are they?" Murrue asked, Athrun jumping out of his thoughts to turn and see her walking towards him with the training room door slowly closing. She wore her typical Morgenroete attire, the stuffiness of the outfit making Athrun pull at the collar of his own T-shirt. He was dressed for training even if he probably wouldn't do anything more than show a few moves. Athrun followed Murrue's attention over to the two finishing up their stretching. The girls would be doing the work and they were dressed accordingly with tank tops and black leggings; Lacus's hair tied and braided into a bun on the back of her head. Both were barefoot and began putting their fingers through their fingerless gloves the longer the pair looked on. "You're sighing far more than any instructor did with my training and that might be an impressive feat, trust me."
"No, they're doing fine," he replied vaguely, giving her a welcoming smile when she took the spot away from the mat and to his right. "Just trying to gauge that grey line between soldier training and necessary skills."
"Ah, so that's why your forehead's crinkling so much." Athrun frowned at the remark and Murrue shrugged before continuing. "There's no point in teaching them to be soldiers since that is neither their job, nor within their range of capabilities, I'd wager." She nodded to the girls again. "Our job is to keep them alive because, in their own way, their job is to make our lives a little bit better. So, perhaps your goal is to just make everyone's job a little bit easier." The older Natural winked and Athrun arched an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"Teach them enough to be more durable, I suppose, and perhaps teach them a little strategy."
"So they'll know the situation and at least know how to handle themselves." Athrun nodded slowly. "That's similar to what Kisaka had suggested and I agree, but it's not entirely what the girls want. I get the feeling they're looking to be a little more front line and that's where I get hung up. I don't want to discourage them, but the likelihood of them having to do anything like I do is—well…" He trailed off with a sigh, his hand coursing another trek against the back of his neck. "Hell, I've never even known Lacus to have an interest in this before Cagalli had suggested it, so I want to teach them something."
"Hm," Murrue hummed, the fingers of her right hand moving up to scratch her chin in thought. "Do you want help?" she asked at length and Athrun found himself surprised again.
"How so?"
"I can help."
He blinked. "Oh?"
"What do you mean 'oh'?" She snorted and crossed her arms, Athrun blushing at her reaction. "I went through basic training too, thank you very much, and got thrown into the captain seat merely because of circumstance. Maybe all these two need is for someone to explain the value of limitations rather than just focus on the downfall."
"W-well—I mean—"
"We can't all be like you," she remarked with a shrug and reached down to take off her shoes, walking over to Lacus and Cagalli without waiting for Athrun to give an intelligent response.
"He just didn't want to lose against his ex-girlfriend and current girlfriend," Sir Pink squealed and Athrun finally sighed, shaking his head as his arms fell to his sides. At least he could confidently say there was only one bad decision in the room now, especially after hearing Waltfeld praise Kira in the corner.
The CA was definitely a bad idea.
CE 72 June 13, Scandinavia
The time had clocked over to evening when Namarra finally found the report and that should have made her feel better, but instead, her jaw tensed as she clenched her teeth.
The first clue was there was no English version, the record merely saying that version was "Missing." Erika had said there was a good possibility the entire report was gone, but even Blue Cosmos was sloppy it seemed, not thinking ahead enough to destroy every version of the report in every language. Either that or someone had stepped in and saved the Swedish version. Either way, Namarra was grateful.
Well, sort of.
She only got about a page in and had to put her reading device down, shuddering through an exhale. "Evolution's Constant Miracle," her mother had called the Berserker, apparently, using the acronym ECM throughout the report instead of using the terminology that Namarra was now used to. The report was listed under what the Natural assumed was her mother's maiden name, Vicklund, and it was a good possibility the combination of those two things had led to the report surviving all those years.
The introduction seemed to be a hodgepodge of theories and she assumed the rest of the paper would expand on those theories; the Berserker's existence ranging from a "Harbinger of Death" and "devolution of mankind" to a "cherished miracle." No matter who called it what, however, her mother had stressed at the very beginning that there was only one a cycle, but the purpose of her experiment was to see if she could create another.
"Create another," Namarra read aloud, the language thankfully a little above Dearka's level, but she felt him look at her and she shook her head, skipping to the conclusion at the end of the report. Scanning the text, it took her a bit to find the sentences she was looking for amid all of the technical terminology and jargon she would have to look up later.
"Mother Nature might limit the cycle to only one, but I am confident we can do one of two things: 1. Force Mother Nature into killing the one already alive and initiating the beginning of the cycle, or 2. Produce a copy. Only time will tell if we have succeeded or not."
No more. She didn't want to read any more and she put the tablet down, flipping it over as if not seeing the words would erase the sentiment in her mind. Her parents had been trying to play God, and they had achieved recognition because of it. Naturals were messing with genetic design again and even though they despised Coordinators, they were praising this approach.
Namarra pushed the tablet further up the table and rested her head on her forearms, breathing slowly. How could mankind be so contradictory and yet so predictable at the same time?
"You find it?" Dearka asked and Namarra nodded, her forehead sliding against the skin on her arms.
"I'll grab a copy of the file and then we can go. Just…" she trailed off, taking another deep breath. "Just give me a moment."
"I'll send a message to Miri," he said after a long silence, the Natural thankful for his level of understanding even if he didn't know the full reason for her distress. She didn't have many memories of her parents, but Kai did, and he had always told her nice stories; rarely anything the words in this paper hinted at. She was just an experiment according to this research and her grip tightened on her arms. Surely Kai's stories were the right version of history. Surely she wasn't just—wasn't just…
The Berserker grinned.
Surely she wasn't just it.
Miriallia found them on campus as promised and Namarra took a side glance at Dearka, smirking when she saw the genuine glow on his face at her appearance.
"You got it bad," she muttered and he looked at her, his hand still up in a wave.
"I got what bad?"
"Nothing," she replied quickly, backing down and standing up from the bench they had waited at to greet the brunette as she came closer. She was wearing a light brown dress that fell just passed her knees with a jean jacket across her shoulders and some navy flats. Overall, she looked comfy, the only thing out of place being the camera she had slung across her body, her hands cupping the device and holding it up for the two of them to see. It fit snugly in her hands, the black box and long lens not a model Namarra had seen before, but her knowledge of cameras was small, so she couldn't tell from first glance how modernized it really was. The care Miriallia took while holding the long barrel of the lens made the Natural realize it meant something to her and Dearka noticed that too, reaching for the offered camera slowly when she held it out.
"Look what Grandma found," she said, her excitement clear on her face. "It's Dad's old camera."
"Your dad did photography?" Dearka asked, flipping the device around in his hands as she shrugged out of the strap.
"Nothing serious, but he's shown me some of his old photos and they're pretty neat. I think I might try it out." The remaining two gave encouraging remarks and Dearka handed the camera back. "Only problem is," she continued, "I think it's broken. Grandma and I tried finding someone today to look at it, but we didn't have any luck. I don't think it's that old, but I don't really know for sure."
"I can look at it, if you'd like," Dearka said, and Miriallia's eyes lit with excitement again, Namarra's fingers having to reach up and hide the grin she made when he blushed. "I-it might just need one part replaced or something."
"That would be great, thanks Dearka."
"S-sure."
It was then that she felt it and she was thankful her fingers were still over her lips. A deep sense of loneliness and longing hit her hard, her stomach practically sinking with the sensation. She usually had a handle on it—was able to contain it—but maybe it was because she was back in the Kingdom of Scandinavia or maybe because she still remembered how hollow her mother's words had read in her report.
"Only time will tell if we had succeeded or not."
A success—that was what she had turned out to be. The images of her brothers wavered in her memories and she felt the words curl around the sheet in the back of her mind.
Don't worry, soon you'll fail like them. Namarra could see the Berserker's shadow grin, even from behind that white sheet.
"Coda?" Dearka asked, and her attention snapped back to his. He seemed startled by her reaction at first, but she laughed it off, waving her hand absently as she willed her heart to slow back down to normal rhythm.
"Just got lost in thought. What did I miss?"
"Would you like to come to my grandparents' for dinner?" Miriallia asked, Namarra not missing the look shared between the two. She didn't like that they had witnessed her moment, but she also didn't want to bring any more attention to it, her reflexive "You're sure?" after the initial question causing Miriallia to put her hands on her hips, the camera swinging around to land at her lower back.
"Of course! We'll give you the full Scandinavian experience."
Namarra wasn't entirely sure what that entailed and neither did Dearka who arched an eyebrow at the statement. Miriallia's reply was a shrug and a wink so the other two could do nothing but offer a return bob of their shoulders.
CE 72 June 15, Scandinavia
The idle splashing of the river drew Dearka slowly back to consciousness, making the Coordinator blink the sleep from his purple eyes, and even flinch from the sunlight that drifted through the trees. How long was I out? he thought, but the sentiment didn't linger for long, an easy smile finding his lips when he looked forward from where he lay among the soft grasses and weeds. The two of them had wandered outside of town, trekking off the beaten path to find a secluded riverbank that only them and a couple other people seemed to discover. The spot was cool where he had ultimately ended up lying down, the forest to their backs and Miriallia having wandered down a ways to the water as he dozed.
She wore a yellow sundress—her sandals near her purse at his side—and was bending down near the rocks, one finger idly sinking into the stream as the other held the large-brimmed sunhat on her head to keep any stray breeze from blowing it off. Miriallia was enjoying the sun, it seemed, far more used to the Scandinavian weather than he was and burning far less than his pinkened skin would suggest, but it was a rare moment of relaxation in their holiday. Either they were with her grandparents or he was in lectures, so this quiet moment he planned on enjoying.
Shifting, Dearka felt a pang from his back. At first, he had thought some rock or stone had slipped beneath him as he napped, but when his hands quested for the lump, they returned instead with the cheap camera he had purchase for the outing. Miriallia's father's old camera was still broken, no amount of Dearka's engineering knowledge able to do anything other than identify the busted piece, but the slight blip in her happiness at that understanding made him realize she was far more into photography than he had previously thought. So, he had taken the initiative and stumbled through the purchase of a simple, disposable camera, the frame black with plastic wrapped in the iconography of its maker. He had never used the likes before and the Swedish riddled off in that exchange made him wish he had dragged someone out with him, but he understood enough to know any of the limited number of photos they took was immediately saved online instead of the device, which was a huge relief. There was a shallow gash already etched into the frame from an early mishap on the trail, "mishap" being another word for a side poke from him jerking Miriallia against a tree. He had been terrified at first by the reaction, but she started laughing and winked, attempting to abuse him similarly and he smirked at the memory. Gathering their things, he got to his feet and raised the camera to one eye, the sound of film winding making Miriallia turn towards him the moment before he snapped.
"Hey, no fair," she chided with a laugh, standing to try and grab the camera as Dearka bobbed back against her attempt. His light-blue shirt swayed with the movement, her fingers grabbing the fabric on her first attempt and he stepped backwards, his right foot nearly slipping on the stone nearby and probably adding even more stains to his khakis to compile onto their earlier episode. "You have so many of me by this point," she continued with a huff. Stopping and putting her hands on her hips. "Surely, it's about time we started taking some bad ones of you too."
"Not happening," Dearka argued, stabling his footing further up on the riverbank and setting down her bag and shoes nearby. "I only have..." a quick glanced informed his answer, "twenty-seven more photos. I'm only using them on things worth remembering, and it's not my fault that's mostly you." Dearka made a point of rising to his full height when her antics renewed, stretching the drowsiness out of his muscles before raising the camera out of reach. "Besides, the point is to take terrible vacation photos. The ones you snap won't work for that."
"Are you implying I take good photos, or that you look good in every photo taken of you?" she asked, accenting the remark with a roll of her eyes and squared up to him again with her hands on her hips. There were two things even Dearka had figured out about their relationship and no doubt the brunette had caught on as well. One, he was taller and she probably wouldn't be able to grab the camera from him and two, if she was being serious, she could probably take him down and wrestle it from him that way.
"Both, of course," Dearka confirmed. "You treat every photo like a job—getting everything just right—and my raw sex appeal is impossible to keep out of the frame." Dearka made a show of posing, the camera dropping down to grabbing height and he smirked when he saw her eyes twinkle at the recognition. "If we aren't careful no one will believe we didn't hire a professional to tail us and photograph me." She lunged as expected and Dearka laughed, the camera lining up to steal a picture of Miriallia's incredulity. A combination of surprise and annoyance crossed her mouth in a pout and his eye made a twinkle of its own. "Lucky for us both," he continued. "I'm great at terrible photos. Give me the best subject on the planet and I'll still make it look messy and rushed."
Miriallia scoffed. "Yes, for someone with a good eye for sniping, you sure can't find a good angle for any other shot, including your—what did you call it? 'Raw sex appeal'?" She snorted and walked up the bank further towards her bag, tossing her hat down onto the ground nearby and folding the dress under her as she sat. "I've seen your selfies."
"You've seen more than that," Dearka teased, finding a place beside her and slipping one arm around her, pulling her close for the sheer joy of holding her. "And my 'Raw Sex Appeal,'" he pitched his voice higher in half-hearted mimicry, "seems to work just fine on you."
"Apparently, I can make more than mere photos look good. I can make things sound good too," she joked, but not even Dearka could find the abuse hurtful. In fact, he laughed. She had gotten more playful over the recent weeks and even others had begun to notice. Despite having been initially intrigued by her strength in the war, this new version was appealing and he shook his head with a laugh at her sentiment.
"You're playing a very dynamic con then, if that's the case." He trailed off, the camera tapping against his chin as he exaggerated a thought. "Luring me all the way out to Scandinavia, having only your trusted relatives as witnesses… you're not trying to get rid of me, are you?"
"Not yet anyway," Miriallia responded before gently prying the camera from Dearka's hand. "But thanks for handing me the only evidence." She winked. "Just in case." The jest hung in the air for a moment as Dearka's face began to soften, finding no amusement in her wording given his particular circumstances, but she gave a warm smile to try and alleviate his worries. At least he hoped that's what she was trying to do. "Oh, don't worry. I went to a lot of trouble to bring you out here. It would be a bit much just to get rid of you, wouldn't it?"
Dearka chose the safer of the options and laughed again, a quick burst of sound that attempted to relieve any insecurities he had gathered over that exchange. Baited question or no, he had been keen to know a couple of things: why she had asked him to come and why, ultimately, they were still "them." The only other couple he saw extensively was Lexi and Yzak and despite them getting along most of the time, Dearka rarely got the impression they talked much about the emotional side of their relationship. In fact, he had to shake his head at that thought, the idea of them having any sort of heart-to-heart surprising him so much he couldn't even visualize it. While that might work for those two, the blond found himself frustrated just by looking at his old teammates from the outside and definitely didn't want something like that for, well, whatever his thing was with Miriallia. It was definitely a relationship, but he had yet to put his finger on it other than his selfish desires and those he chose to keep as hidden as much as he could.
"Hey," Miriallia prompted, tracing one hand along Dearka jawline. "Stay with me, don't get all introspective. We're supposed to be relaxing, remember. We can worry when we get back." Miriallia leaned further onto his chest and Dearka suddenly became very aware of how close they were, goosebumps tracing across his skin at every part she touched. Swallowing, his breath hitched as he struggled to inhale calmly, trying to focus on the buzzing of the insects and the splashing of the river instead of his companion currently staring at him with bright and entrancing eyes. Nothing was ever that easy with her, however.
"No worrying, right?" she asked and he watched her lips move with the words.
"R-right," he stammered, the essence of suave in all but anything that mattered at that particular moment and he swallowed again. Maybe Namarra had been right. Maybe he did have it bad. Him and Miriallia had been together for a couple of months by then and intimate for a similar amount of time, but she could still stir a level of delight in him that was both fresh and unknown at the same time. He had had crushes in school before in what almost seemed like a lifetime ago, but those came just about as close to the current feeling in his chest as his Buster had been to a melee unit.
"R-right," he repeated and cleared his throat, suddenly very aware the others had fled the riverbank and finding her boldness too much of a tease even for him.
The winding of the film gave Dearka barely a moment's notice before he heard the click of the camera. "Twenty-six now," Miriallia announced with the proudest smile he had seen her wear yet. "I finally got one of you blushing; I just hope it turns out okay. I had to rush or you'd have caught on."
Swallowing the lump in his throat Dearka managed to form a thought, grinning even before he got it out. "I told you fast and messy was more fun," he gloated, before a mischievous glint in his partner's eyes put him back on edge.
"Oh, I knew that," she admitted, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'm with you aren't I?"
Another telling line and his grin faltered. Was she just being playful at this point? Or giving him a not-so-subtle signal that he was blindly ignoring? Their history during the war was rocky at best and it wasn't only because of some careless words he had uttered amid what he could only think was a moment of feigned confidence. His father had been adamantly against Naturals—vocal even and despite growing up amid that rhetoric, Dearka had found himself… fascinated. There was really no other word to describe it.
He inhaled slowly as he plastered the grin back on his lips, hoping she wouldn't have seen the brief lax in his façade. In the war, his fascination had been so profound, in fact, he remembered the breath of relief he had felt knowing his father would never have to meet the brunette. It had made him sick before and it did much the same then, the blond turning his attention away from Miriallia and out to the stream as his arms tensed. Her body stilled in his hold and he noticed, but she didn't say anything.
"Yes," he began, the word trickling out as his breath blew against the top of her head. "Yes, you are with me." It was the statement he had chosen not to utter before and despite the confidence he knew he should have felt, he actually had none. She had lost her boyfriend in the war and that plus her playful sentiments then screamed only one thing at him and no amount of chiding—whether it be from himself or others—could keep the niggling bit of doubt out of his mind.
He was just a rebound.
"Not quite, no," Miriallia sighed and Dearka jerked at the announcement, his arms hitching at the admittance. There was no way she could have known what he was thinking and even her surprise at his response said as much. "S-sorry, was that not right? You were thinking so hard about something I just assumed it was you spiralling again."
"I-it's fine," Dearka lied, putting the worst of his doubts aside for the moment and refusing to linger on them. "What happens when we go back though?" he asked, returning to their original line of conversation. "This is perfect, but we have to go back sometime. What happens then?"
Mirallia frowned, nibbling her lower lip in thought, before glancing back up at him. "Well, I think we have dinner plans with Lexi and Yzak," she responded lightly, and Dearka gave a wry laugh. It wasn't the answer he had wanted, but maybe that was still answer enough. "And besides," she continued, the blond shivering as she traced one finger from his bicep down his forearm, and finally up the thumb, taking his hand in her own. "We still have… twenty-something more photos to take right? You wanted 'the vacation experience' you won't get that if you don't finish the disposable."
"Oh?" Dearka mused, letting the question linger mostly unspoken, giving Miriallia the pause to finish her thought. She was the budding photographer, after all.
"Why don't we walk upstream?" she suggested. "We might find a view worth remembering, or a spot for you to finish your nap." She chuckled, bright and bubbly, which was a far cry from her grief after the war and he smiled. "If you fall in and get wet, we might even get a shot of you shirtless."
Despite his thoughts, the blond couldn't keep his grin from turning a bit devilish. "And if you fall in?"
"Why, Dearka, are you thinking about pushing me in?" Mirallia scolded and laughed when his eyebrows bobbed mischievously. "Come on," she tilted her head upstream, beckoning the Coordinator along. "Let's find something worth remembering."
They stood and gathered their things, Dearka letting Miriallia take the lead with the camera as he looked on, enjoying the backdrop of the riverbank and the girl beside it. Releasing a long breath, he begged his heart to slow once more, his lips parting to form the phrase, "I already have."
CE 72 June 17, Scandinavia
Namarra wasn't sure what to expect and perhaps that was most of the problem. While her time at the orphanage had felt like a lifetime ago, it only took her a quick second and one hand to count out how many years it had been. Five years. That was it. Five years. Some of the older kids might even remember her and despite that realization, the reason she stood frozen near the street in front of the building was the woman crouching down with of piece of white chalk in her hand, smiling as she doodled with the young brunette at her feet.
Sister Cynthia looked the same, her fair face pulling at Namarra's heart and she had to take a steadying breath. Her cheeks had filled out a little bit more in their brief time apart, but her nose remained poignant on her face, the staple that should have seemed jarring, but its sharp edges were softened by her darker eyes, the happy wrinkles even seen from Namarra's distance and her chest started to hurt. She took another steadying breath, determined to keep her panic in check, but it was tough. This was her third attempt at walking up that front path and still she stood on the exact same curb the Earth Alliance had taken her from those five years ago; still she hadn't broken the threshold of that first, gated opening.
Kai, help me, she thought, having not uttered those words in a long time and her left hand fell to her side, searching for his like it had all those years ago. This entire visit was going to be tough and even more so after reading her mother's report. Kai might have seen the resemblance when they had first arrived at the orphanage and that memory was sharp in her mind then, Cynthia's smiles somehow the face behind the words "whether we have succeeded or not."
The two-story building Namarra barely registered during her first two attempts, but she finally took it in, it's concrete walls a shade dirtier than her memories and with far more wild greenery having taken over. Perhaps the most noticeable difference was the front left corner and the garden of brightly colored flowers sprouting out untamed around many, separate mounds of stones.
Cynthia shifted and Namarra saw it out of the corner of her eye, the darker robe and headdress moving with the wind as she stood. "Do I get to speak to you today?" Her voice was raspier than Namarra remembered, but the lightness to it sent the sharp pang of familiarity through her once more. She squeezed her left hand into a fist at her side.
The Natural had no idea what to say so she said nothing, her mouth open and closing. What was she even doing there? Tying off loose ends? Coming home? It was a bad idea; nothing good would come from showing her face now.
"I'd like to give you something," Cynthia continued, calling from the steps and giving an encouraging statement to the child at her feet when she spoke, the girl racing off and leaving her chalk on the ground. "It is you, right?"
Namarra gulped.
"You're the Legund girl."
She recognized her? With so many kids running through the system, she remembered someone as insignificant as her?
Cynthia must have recognized the movement, or lack there of, because she had started walking towards the gate as Namarra stared, realizing her head didn't have to move as much to meet her gaze. The woman's smile was small, but genuine and her right hand took Namarra's left fist in hers, bringing up her left hand to cup the Natural's much like she had all those years ago. "Welcome back, Namarra."
The breath left her lungs at that one line and the only thing she could do was nod when Cynthia suggested her coming inside for some tea. The older woman repeated the phrase, "I want to give you something," and Namarra made the same numb gesture, her eyes slowly catching the rows of flowers and stones as she walked up the steps and through that memorable red door.
The kids must have been in other rooms, the kitchen a strange echo chamber of childish laughter yet no one was in sight. It hadn't changed much since Namarra had been there, and the smells hit her first. They must have just eaten as well, the distinct aroma of soup broth and cooked meat lingering in the air. The sight of the dirty dishes piled up near the sink finally pulled her out of her stupor, the smile light on her lips and knowing some unfortunate individual would have that on their chore list to do. The kitchen space was large, able to hold three, longer tables and benches with space to spare and Cynthia pointing to the end of such a one soon after leaving the entryway.
Namarra took the offered seat at the bench, her long skirt brushing off the crumbs as she sat and the Natural leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Folding her hands, she shifted nervously as Cynthia busied herself with the water.
"I'm sorry if I surprised you," Cynthia began, Namarra feeling as if that should have been her line instead, but the older woman continued, "I don't forget many faces and you are no exception." Namarra caught her brief smile as she turned towards the table before setting the full kettle on the heat pad and flipping the switch.
"Though, I'm surprised to see you alone," she continued and Namarra's muscles started to tense again. She already knew the question, but really didn't want to have to answer it. Her fingers folding over one another as her hands tensed and whether that was a clear sign or not, Namarra wasn't sure, but the question never came, Cynthia's loud sigh and soft, "I see," nearly getting drowned out by the bubbling kettle.
"You look well," she said instead. "I'm glad."
"How are—" Namarra started, the sentence blurting from her lips, but she stopped it quickly. She wanted to ask how she and the other kids were doing, but Cynthia's face darkened in a way Namarra had never seen before. The Kingdom of Scandinavia hadn't been untouched by war, but it was by far the more stable of the unions. Based on that look alone, however, Namarra would have claimed that fact a lie.
"We're mostly babies and toddlers now," she began, walking to her left to reach up and grab two mugs from the cupboard above the sink. "The EA had its sights on us for a while and anyone over 11 is gone. We… had to start turning children away when we realized what had been happening." She put the mugs down softly onto the counter, dropping a bag of green tea in both. "A lot of the older orphans look out for each other now, forming little families of their own on the streets." The kettle chimed and she grabbed the handle, pouring the steaming liquid into each cup. "Sometimes I wonder if it had been better to leave you and your brother on your own."
Namarra often thought about that as well, but didn't say anything out loud, her eyes staring at her hands until the mug of tea was set within her line of sight, Cynthia taking the seat across from her at the table. They sat in silence as the tea cooled, the only movement being the older woman as she leaned to the side and pulled something from her pocket. Namarra saw the movement, but didn't register the significance of the object until she saw the smiles, the younger faces untainted by the war, and the genuine joy in the stances of the kids in the photo. It was her with Lacie Marie in a one-armed hug and standing in front of the taller quartet of boys, Shani with his arms crossed on the furthest to the left and Orga with an arm on his shoulder to Shani's right. Clotho was next with a game device in his hands and Kai was the furthest to the right, standing just behind Namarra. His lips were curved up in a smile and Namarra stared hard at that image. A smile; the expression she had been trying to recall ever since she had remembered what it looked like to watch him die. That was the smile she wanted.
Her fingers reached past the tea and grabbed the edges of the photo. "H-How?"
"I knew it was you a couple of days ago and rushed to find it." The older woman brought the mug to her lips, the movement covering her grin. "Been in my pocket ever since, but I'd like to think it's still in good shape."
"It's perfect," Namarra breathed, bringing it closer to her and exhaling through the emotions that hit her. She hadn't had a photo before. The only thing she had been relying on was her memories and those had been unreliable in the past. But a photo didn't lie; this photo didn't lie.
"H-he's smiling," she said and swallowed down the emotion once more.
Cynthia chuckled. "Yes, well, you were always the reason he would."
CE 64 Orb
"You and I heard the same rumors then."
Lexi's ears perked at the words, her father's voice cutting above the giggling of the group of girls to her left. It was Cagalli's ninth birthday and she had wanted to go somewhere, which meant not only was the entire class from school invited, but so was the family and other confidants who had kids of similar age. They had rented out a whole zoo for the day and despite there being no more than 50 people in their group—not including security personnel—the zoo felt surprisingly crowded. Though, that might have had more to do with the fact Lexi had been stuck hanging out with the girls instead of Lathan and the other boys who had been dragged to join them. There were many reasons the girls in class had been fawning over Cagalli lately, her most recent successful appearance at a high-end social event being the fuel behind that particular month's praise. She had done well and Lexi was proud of her, but the papers seemed the most flattering of all, starting to dub her the "Princess of Orb."
The redhead sighed and leaned forward, feeling the heated, black railing against her forearms. She stayed against it for as long as she could bear, her silent challenge to herself in an effort to stave off the boredom. Life was shifting quickly despite the slowness of the days and her ears zoned in on the adult conversation once more, her eyes lazily following the tigers' tails as they slapped against the rockface of their enclosure.
"More of a confirmation, actually," the other male voice continued. "I'm not sure what these mobile suits are in their entirety, but the engineers up there have begun production."
"And they can be piloted by humans? Like mobile armors?" Bryce continued, Lexi hearing the strain in his voice as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, no doubt the mid-May heat having taken him by as much surprise as the others at the party, their assorted business shirts rolled up towards their elbows, suits long abandoned and either draped over arms or dangling meekly at their sides. "Is 'pilot' even the right word to use?"
"Oh, Lady Cagalli, look!"
Lexi's attention returned to the squabble of girls to her left, and she saw one of their brunette classmates leaning forward and pointing at a tiger who had risen and was beginning its slow bound down to get a drink at the pool of water. The girl, like the other group of six around her, was wearing some color variation of the rainbow, her dress short and brushing against her knees as she leaned forward.
"Yes, I see," Cagalli responded kindly, Lexi smirking when she heard the brunette yelp at how hot the railing had been when she had touched it, the redhead finally leaning back once her own personal challenge had ended. Even Cagalli sounded bored, but she was far better at faking it than Lexi was. Perhaps the blonde's lessons were paying off and maybe the redhead should start taking them as well. Cagalli and her were dressed differently than the other girls, Lexi in a sleeveless, green summer dress with a sheer, golden shawl around her neck clasped with a similar-colored sun medallion to show both her attachment to the Athhas and her rank—whatever "rank" meant to a nine-year-old. There was more to it, Lexi knew, seeing Cagalli dressed almost identical, but in a stunning lighter blue dress. The golden medallion was also wrapped in a shawl around her neck, the redhead knowing there was a tracking device embedded in both trinkets.
Maybe life wasn't changing that much.
"Fighting doesn't solve anything," the male voice hissed, Lexi turning and looking over at the group. Her parents were standing beside her uncle Uzumi and a heavier gentleman the redhead didn't know, but the way he dabbed at his face with the handkerchief in his right hand made Lexi think he wasn't native to Orb. He was dressed the lightest out of everyone and the only one to be standing in the shade, Lexi quickly noting the button-up short-sleeved shirt across his shoulders and no jacket to be seen. While not common at that time of year, Orb was no stranger to hot and muggy days.
Lexi's parents nodded slowly, Emilia fiddling with the green purse dangling beside her sleeveless white dress. Lexi wasn't sure what she had missed when her classmate had squealed, but her mother's next statement came as no surprise and the redhead found her eyes returning to the equally bored felines behind the fence.
"We agree, of course."
"Of course," the man echoed.
"But, perhaps, to differing degrees," Uzumi cut in. "There is a balance to everything in this world, even for this."
"O-of course," the same man said and Lexi felt herself release a breath, returning back to the girls tugging on Cagalli's arm and urging her to move onto the next enclosure. Lexi watched her closely, trying to catch her eye and gauge whether or not the blonde wanted her to step in. The Athha family spitfires had stopped arguing almost immediately after they had been taken, somehow that trauma being the push they needed towards more friendly relations. It had been a change their family was excited for, but they had also started doing something they knew their parents would frown upon. Well, at least Lexi's parents.
Lexi saw Kisaka make a movement to her left, but didn't turn her attention to him entirely, still trying to get a read on Cagalli's situation. Kisaka was aware of the girls' skills, having been training them for the past month or so, but even he remained the paranoid bodyguard, his presence never far away from Cagalli nowadays.
The group was getting further away and still Lexi had not made eye contact with the blonde, the redhead not releasing a breath until they had disappeared around the corner entirely. No, Cagalli didn't need her help—didn't want her help. Their lack of arguing had led to a more cordial relationship, but not necessarily a better one. Cagalli was busy with her things and Lexi with hers, the two of them only interacting in their mutual classes, at events such as this, or at the minimal training Kisaka was putting them through. They were nothing more than that and Lexi sighed, turning to lay a hand on the railing as her other wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead before it traced down her cheek. Even Lexi's parents rarely interacted with her uncles outside of the office and the redhead was beginning think that was what families eventually became to each other.
Tolerable.
"She does prefer you to them, you know."
Lexi turned at the voice, catching the small smile of her Uncle Uzumi and not being able to resist the curving of her own lips at his approach.
"Perhaps teaching her manners has backfired a little bit however," he added with a chuckle, leaning his forearms against the railing next to Lexi, in a seemingly unflinching grace, and clasping his hands in front of him. "I wish she would stand up for herself more."
"Oh, she does," the redhead responded automatically, the annoyance in her voice unmasked and the older man chuckled.
"Then, perhaps, she is just another person coddling me."
"She's worried, I think," Lexi responded, not really sure what the word "coddling" meant, but the sad look in his eye made her think it wasn't a good thing. While the spark had been returning to his gaze lately, there were moments she caught his façade droop and no doubt Cagalli wanted to keep him as chipper as anyone else in their family. Perhaps even most of all.
"But if she is worried about me, that means she won't let me be worried about her." He gave a slow sigh and Lexi wasn't sure if it was for show or genuine. It came off as playful, but he had used this method plenty of times around her and she recognized the ploy. In his own way, he was asking for her help and she nodded.
"I'll keep an eye on her, no worries," was the redhead's simple reply, turning around back to the enclosure and leaning her forearms onto the railing once more. "You have loads of other stuff to worry about like ruling the country, so you leave Cagalli to me."
Uzumi chuckled softly. "I'm not sure what government class you've been taking, Lexi, but I guess I shouldn't be worrying about your education either, huh?"
"Nope." The redhead shook her head and she watched the older man's smile become more genuine. While strong, her uncle didn't hide his pain very well, the honesty in his expressions most likely being the reason so many people worried about him. That level of honesty was rare in a politician, or so she had been told and Lexi studied it then, curious to know whether it was natural or taught.
"Well then, if I'm going to trust you," he began, his words breaking through her thoughts, "you need to promise me you won't leave her side—no matter how stubborn or pigheaded she might get."
"Well," Lexi began, kicking the toe of her golden sandal against the cement behind her. "That's a big promise, but I think I can handle it." Uzumi chuckled through a "Good" and heard him shift beside her. Twisting, she looked down and saw his left hand in a fist, his pinky up and held out to her.
"I will leave her in your hands then," he said and Lexi nodded, pulling her left hand across her body to link her pinky with his.
"That's a promise."
CE 72 June 19, Space
Lexi's eyes opened quickly, the darkened ceiling slowly coming into focus between her panicked breaths. She had no recollection of her nightmare, only the faint sound of Melanie's jolted screams as she lay on the electrical wires. It was a sound she hadn't heard in a really long time and the fear was back in her chest as her heart raced. It felt as if it had just happened, the redhead even afraid to turn to her left and look at the window, terrified Melanie's burned corpse would be dangling there much like back then. She took another breath, closing her eyes to steady herself as she felt a panicked shiver, but it was a useless movement, the Berserker's toothy grin awaiting her as her eyelids shut and the smell of Melanie's corpse recoiled from her memories.
Her hand was at her mouth instantly and she threw off the covers, opening the door in a rush and bolting down the hall to the toilet. She made it in time, kicking the door closed after her initial heave, trying to limit the noise for the individual still asleep in the bedroom.
Why now? Why was she remembering Melanie now? She hadn't thought about that moment since Phoebe had showed and the redhead hadn't had a nightmare in weeks. What had happened?
Just keeping you on your toes, the Berserker cooed, the door opening a crack in the back of her mind. Making sure you don't forget about me.
She heaved again as it laughed, the smell returning to her nostrils and the complete, utter helpless Lexi had felt in that moment, locked in her own mind as the Berserker rampaged across Mendel. It played like a movie and no matter how many times she shook her head or tried to focus on the water wavering beneath her breath the image of Melanie's sightless eyes was still there. Her scream. The taste of her blood as the Berserker had licked its fingers.
Lexi heaved.
I can do it again, you know, the Berserker continued, Lexi hearing the door in her mind creak as it opened further. You're mine to control, not the other way around. Her breath bounced back onto her sweaty forehead, the panic gasps mimicking her shaking fingers as they struggled to flush the toilet and her nose crinkled at the smell, closing her eyes briefly while her vomit sunk down and water began to refill the bowl.
It's so easy to do…
"Pip?"
Her attention darted to the door, hearing Yzak's voice on the other side. Despite her efforts, it looked as if she had awoken him anyway and she cursed through a shaky breath.
"You okay?" he continued and she spit into the bowl one more time before flushing again. People had been using that phrase a lot lately and even she had begun to notice. Was she okay? She wasn't even sure anymore. Clearing her throat, she braced her hands against the toilet seat and rose shakily to her feet.
"I'm fine. Sorry—go back to bed." Her hands reached to grip the sides of the sink as her nightshirt slipped down her right shoulder, the sensation bringing another shiver. Clearing her throat, she turned on the tap and cupped her hands under the water before bringing her palms up to splash the liquid on her face.
"You sure?"
Sighing, she reached to the side for a towel and dabbed off the water. "Yeah, I'm sure," she replied, but her confidence shattered when she saw herself in the mirror. Her pupils were gone, the blood draining from her face in the same moment her lips moved on their own, twisting into the toothy grin she had come to see only in her mind.
"See? So easy."
"Did you say something?"
"And it's just you two. Just Yzak and you."
"I'm coming in."
Lexi felt her shoulders bob in a shrug. "Or Yzak and me." She saw the handle turn and the door start to open in the mirror, but she whirled, slamming herself back against it and shutting it once more. "Don't! Don't come in!"
"W-why not? What's wrong?"
The Berserker laughed, Lexi slinking to the tiled floor only when she finally felt it retreat fully behind the door. She had never felt that before—that level of intensity. That level of… separation. Was she still dreaming? Or was this just a teaser?
"Lexi!" Yzak hissed, the redhead hearing his voice just above her head near the edge of the door. His fist banging on the metal and her body vibrated with the movement, her head falling forward as she hugged her knees. What did it mean? It had never been that easy before. Surely that time worked only because she was weary. She had a nightmare, she was scared, she felt panicked, she felt guilty—all of those emotions at once must have helped it gain control.
Yzak pounded his fist against the door again and the Berserker's laugh echoed in her mind once more, her arms tightening as she gritted her teeth. "Leave me alone," she spat and the knocking stopped but the laughter remained, a distant echo that forced a tremble through her skin.
It could be just him and me.
She wasn't sure how long she had sat there against the door, but eventually she did rise, a shaky hand grasping and then turning the handle. Yzak was on the other side of the door, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded. He was up and alert, nothing on him looking disheveled despite his rude awakening. Even his T-shirt and sweats looked pristine, which made her feel worse, knowing he had to have been waiting for a while if the creases from sleeping had straightened on his clothing.
She hesitated when she met his gaze, her eyes faltering and falling towards the carpet in embarrassment.
"You okay?" he asked softly and her shoulders went up in a shrug.
"Yeah," she lied and he probably knew. "Sorry."
There was a small sigh and then she saw the shadow of his arm on the carpet as it swept out wide, the bathroom light still on and illuminating the hall. Her breath hitched at the movement and she took a step forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. If he felt her shudder, he didn't say anything, her cheek turning to lay against his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head.
Just him and me…
A/N Hello all. This chapter came a little later than I thought, but it's for rather embarrassing reasons and those reasons? ...I can't write cute. XD So, I enlisted the help of the wonderful QuietOne. Her and I co-wrote the Dearka x Miriallia section and brownie points to anyone who realized the section was a little bit different than my normal writing style. I'm terribly grateful to her for her guidance and help. 3
Right, I'll stop gushing and move back to the chapter. Took a break from space this chapter to head to Scandinavia and while my initial plan was to dive further into the culture, etc., it all came out rather superficial. Not sure what to make of that yet, but Nam found some valuable information nonetheless. As for past Lexi, it's probably looking more like a Cagalli and Lexi past dealy-o, but I'll be moving to the actual siblings from now on (I think). Cagalli has her own thing going on and, well, things might be lighting up in the Rymyr household here pretty soon...
I'll just say one more thing in this note (since I'm fairly convinced no one reads them... Heh...) and that's a huge thank you to any readers who have been sticking with me and a hello to any newbies who have popped up. I do hope you all are enjoying the story as we seem to have traversed the halfway point (I think...). I'm fairly convinced this will be around the same length as Waltz despite my initial desire to have it be shorter. There was just more stuff going on than I had originally planned for, I suppose.
Shoutout to my friends on the writing Discord chat I frequent and deserved grovelling to my beta Death-Scimitar. Not only does she edit a mean edit, she also is pretty good at chapter titles.
Corrections to the Narrative:
Ummm... Hmm... Oh yeah! I'm giving characters languages they are proficient in. Any thoughts or gripes, just let me know.
Questions/Gripes:
*The void has begun cricketing back.*
The world is still a scary place, so everyone please take care and thanks for stopping by. I'll see you all in the next chapter.
Strata