Noin drums her fingers lightly against the steering wheel as they wait at a traffic light. Mariemaia stares out the window at the fine drizzle that has started up.
"I hear you've gotten good at diving," Noin says.
Mariemaia slides her gaze over to assess Noin. She's not paying attention to Mariemaia. Instead, her eyes track the pedestrians crossing in front of the milling cars. Mariemaia pulls her bag into her lap, toys with the shoulder strap, and tries to see what Noin does when she looks at the civilians. Are they potential threats? People worth protecting? Mindless sheep? Mariemaia can't puzzle it out.
"I'm alright," she replies finally.
The light turns green and Noin puts the car in gear. "Just alright?" she asks. There's a small curve to her mouth as she says it and Mariemaia shrugs.
"According to Heero Yuy," she states.
Noin takes her eyes off the road to give her a surprised look. "I didn't realize Heero knew diving."
Mariemaia shrugs again. "I think he's better at the discipline," she says after a moment. She frowns as Noin turns down her street. "I haven't actually seen him dive." She feels the old hesitation there again, takes a breath and forces the name out. "Trowa Barton's good at diving."
Noin smiles again. "That I could see."
Mariemaia wants to ask how Noin knew she was improving in diving. She wants to ask why she isn't surprised about Trowa's diving skills. She sees the gate coming up, Noin already reaching for her badge to show the guards. "Did you like my father?" she asks instead.
Noin nearly drops the badge in surprise. Mariemaia stares out the windshield, watches the wipers move back and forth intermittently. There's a tap on the driver's window and Noin hastily rolls the window down to show the guard her badge. Rafay is on duty this afternoon and she waves them through with a sharp nod before stepping back into the guardhouse and out of the steady drizzle.
Noin is silent as she pulls up to the front of the house. Mariemaia shifts, digs her key out of the front pocket of her bag, but doesn't reach for the door handle. Not yet.
"I liked your father well enough," Noin says. It's not really an answer, Mariemaia thinks. She looks at Noin expectantly. "He was my commanding officer and Zechs's friend." She gives a small half shrug. "He treated us well and kept Zechs safe."
Mariemaia pulls out her history book, flips it open to the picture she'd impulsively stuck in it the previous night. It's one of the ones from the photo albums. It's one of the ones taken in the garden, with her father, Dorothy, Zechs, and Noin. They aren't dressed in military uniforms, instead lounging in sunshine and looking remarkably young.
Noin studies the photo and Mariemaia can see pain in her eyes. She doesn't know how Noin has made it as a soldier with such an expressive face. Silently, Noin takes the photo from her, fingers gentle along the edges. Mariemaia wants to snatch it back.
"I didn't know any photos still existed from this," she says, a small smile quirking her lips. "I forgot how ridiculous Zechs looked in those sunglasses." Her eyes drift across the people in the image. "Treize was so young."
"He looked happy. You all did."
Noin looks up, meets her eyes. "We were," she says after a moment. "Where did you get this?"
"Lady Une."
Noin's lips purse for a moment and then she sighs. She gives one last longing look at the photo before handing it back to Mariemaia. She runs a hand through her hair and leans back against the leather seat. "This was taken at his country estate," she explains. "I think it was the year before we graduated, maybe the summer before that."
Mariemaia studies the photo in her hands. "It looked like Zechs and Dorothy got along."
"They did, back then." Noin sighs. "Dorothy must've been just a year or two older than you at this point." Mariemaia looks back at the photograph, studies her cousin. Dorothy's hair was shorter but just as bright, her blue eyes obviously clever in the photograph. She looked like an adult in a child's body.
"Zechs and Dorothy were common fixtures at the estate during the summer. It was only the last few years of our training that Zechs began to invite me back with him. We could never tell anyone, it would hardly do for His Excellency to be perceived as having favorites, though we all knew Zechs was his favorite." Her lips twitch again. "It was the most human I ever saw your father."
Mariemaia blinks the blurriness away from her vision. "I wish I'd known him," she murmurs. She hates the ache in her voice.
Noin reaches over, brushes a strand of hair behind Mariemaia's ear. "I'm sure he wished the same," she replies, voice soft.
. . ... . .
Mariemaia is pouring over the albums when Lady Une knocks lightly on her open door. "You're still up?" she asks.
"You missed curfew," Mariemaia says, glancing at the clock on her desk.
Lady Une sighs, leans against the doorframe. "President Veertig doesn't believe in curfews," she replies, voice dry. Mariemaia studies her guardian silently, noting the dark shadows around her eyes, her rumpled blouse and the tired slump to her shoulders. "You didn't have to wait up."
"What did he want?" Mariemaia asks. She crosses her legs and shifts to face Lady Une more fully. "You said it was an early morning meeting. Even Veertig couldn't talk that much."
Lady Une's mouth quirks into a smile. "You'd be surprised." She covers a yawn with her hand. "How was school?" Mariemaia hesitates, wonders if it's a test. She can't imagine Dr. Arthav would have contacted Lady Une about her behavior in class, but stranger things had happened. Lady Une's eyes narrow, she's waited too long to answer. "What happened?"
Mariemaia shrugs and plucks at a loose thread on her quilt. "You may get a call from Dr. Arthav," she states. "But you may not." Lady Une's eyebrows rise incredulously. "We got into a disagreement about the meaning of war."
Lady Une lets out a sigh and Mariemaia lets her eyes dart up to her guardian quickly. "I thought we'd been over this," she sighs, rubbing her temples. "What happened?"
"We're studying the Eve Wars…and the Barton Rebellion." She sees Lady Une's lips thin and winces. "It's not that bad, there've hardly been any snide comments!" she protests. "It was a stupid debate about whether Heero Yuy's death was for nothing."
"The politician?"
"The pilot. Hypothetically." She shrugs at Lady Une's curious look. "They think he's dead. Not by name of course. But, you know, Pilot 01 or however he was identified."
"Of course." Lady Une pushes off the doorframe and crosses the room. She shifts the photo album to the bedside table and takes a seat next to Mariemaia. "If you don't want to be in class for these types of discussions, you don't have to be. I can talk to the Headmistress."
"It's fine. If I'm not there then they'll just talk more." She gives Une a small smile. "Anyway, it's interesting to see what the history books get wrong."
Lady Une sighs again. Up close, Mariemaia can see how tired her guardian really is. She thinks of Lady Une's long meetings with Relena Darlian, with the ESUN President, and wonders what new threat she isn't being told about.
"You're supposed to be keeping a low profile," Lady Une reminds her. She reaches out, tugs lightly on the end of a lock of Mariemaia's hair. "Not picking fights with academics." She says the last word like it's poison. Mariemaia feels herself smile.
"I'm simply doing my best to educate them. It's my duty, as a living piece of history and all."
Lady Une groans, tugs on Mariemaia's hair again. "I'm sure," she replies. "Come on, bedtime." She stands, and Mariemaia sighs before crawling under the covers.
She's too old to be tucked in. She's been too old to be tucked in since she was five, but she doesn't protest this time when Lady Une drapes the quilt over her, when she reaches over to brush a strand of red hair from Mariemaia's forehead.
"Will there be a new war?" she questions.
Lady Une pauses, hand reaching for the light switch. Her face is half-shadowed and Mariemaia can't help but think it suits her. This strange half-life spent balancing between clandestine operations and public scrutiny. She scrubs a hand over her face. She must be more tired than she thought.
"What makes you ask that?" Lady Une asks.
"The meetings. Veertig's an ass, but even he isn't this big of one."
"Language," Lady Une admonishes. She tucks the quilt around Mariemaia's shoulders, studies her face intently. "I can't promise there won't be another war," she says finally. "But there isn't one on the horizon. There's a cell starting up that aren't happy with the way Veertig has been handling some of the funding and have called in threats on the President, but we are investigating it."
Mariemaia twists, getting comfortable. "Are they right?" she asks. "Did he mismanage the funds?"
"We're still investigating," Lady Une says. "Like you said, Veertig is an ass, but he isn't malicious." She brushes Mariemaia's hair back before turning off the light. "There's nothing for you to worry about. Goodnight."
"'Night."