Author's note: Eee. I got some ratings! Yay. Please rate...@.@...I'm having a bit of writers block -_-..But hey, it's all good and fun...
Chapter Two: Bonjour, mon cher
It had been a long night. Heero had spent his sleepless hours accompanied only by Duo's dream-filled snoring. Occasionally his leg would kick and throw the sheets off of himself, in which case he would roll over and snore louder until Heero returned the blanket to it's rightful place.
Relena had left early that morning. Heero had seen her off around five-thirty at the airport. The air was thick with moist, thick mist. It was a very gray morning...
The cold had cut him to the marrow, a chill wind was present. She had talked to him, assured him that she would write, that it wasn't really going to be that long of a time. He nodded several times, listening from some distant corner of his mind. His mouth told her everything was fine. But he felt no attatchment to those words. She was his foundation. All those years without her had been hell..
"Everything will be fine Relena.." Those words, falsities though they might have then, coaxed Relena onto her pre-dawn flight. Heero had watched the plane leave from an empty waiting room, his palm pressed against the chill glass window. He stayed as the plane grew more and more distant, until it finally dissapeared into the mist. Heero hesitated before leaving, looking to the spot where he lost sight as if it would somehow seem she was still there.
It was now near noon. He sighed as he walked to his first class, his eyes turned to the cracked and earth-worn sidewalk below, his books cradled loosley under an arm. First lesson of the day: Philosophy.
****
Hilde rose painfully onto a toe pointe, bringing her arms upward into a graceful, swan-like pose. The taps of her ballet shoes upon wooden stage echoed through the darkened theater, the only noise about. The hundreds of red cotton seats were empty, no spotlights shone. She had come through a back window to practice.
Her breath came in short gasps, face and neck drenched with sweat. Hilde's mindset was focused, laser-like upon her flowing body. She had to be the best. She had to be. Moving her arms above her head, she spun in a very quick manner, the silk ribbon that held her bun flopping wildly.
In a few weeks, all of those empty seats would be full. Full of admirers, specators, critics, all there to see the play, the fluid motions of the dancer's bodies as they painted a story across the light-flooded stage. And she would be the star. She would be the best.Tryouts were in three days. She had so little time..
Hilde relaxed a moment, moving to the water bottle opposite her. She picked it up and took a long, deep sip, wiping beads of perspiration from her forehead. The cool water spread through her immedietly, rejuvinating, refreshing. Mr. Robinson had to give her that part. It was all she wanted, all she yearned for. She had to work harder.
Setting her water bottle down and walking to center stage once again, Hilde began to dance.
****
Amidst the laughter and shouts, chatting and settling, Heero laid his books down. Five minutes remained until class began. Relena's seat was unbearably empty. He bent his neck a little, closing his eyes to all the noise in thought.
"Ugh..She's not here yet..I hope she's not sick...poor babe..." Duo flicked honey-brown bangs from his eyes, full of concern. "Heero, have you seen Hilde? She hasn't shown." Heero didn't answer. Duo sighed, plopping to a sit and folding his arms over his chest. "Tch..like talking to a brick."
"Alright class, open your books to page three-hundred and twenty-four." Professor Trell spat the instructions before even reaching the podium. "Open your notes as well." The class did as they were instructed, the sound of binders opening and pens clicking filling the room. Heero glanced over at Duo, who was already busy writing "I love Hilde" as many times as would allow on his first sheet.
"Let me present to you this theory, my students.." The middle aged woman removed her glasses and began to pace the floor slowly. "In your dreams, you are to-" She was cut off by a rather loud pounding at the door. All heads raised as she walked, slightly frustrated at the interruption, to the knocking. She twisted the handle and opened the door.
Standing there was a petit young girl. She was dressed in a stylish black sleeveless knee-length dress, complete with black buret and matching shoes. Her hair fell in tousled red strands, contradicting with the black radically. Her eyes were a piercing green, and resided under long, full black lashes. The girl leaned over and whispered something to Professor Trell, switching her books to her other delicate arm.
The professor nodded silently, then motioned for the girl to take the podium. Dozens of curious eyes scanned her for any sign of anything, arrogance, weakness, any fake airs. But the girl emitted nothing but cool confidence, and could not be read any further. It was as if she wouldn't allow it. "Students, we have a new addition to our class.." Professor Trell nodded to the mysterious young girl, signaling her to speak.
"'Allo." She smiled in a curtious, yet self-assured sort of way. "My name iz Claire. I 'ave just moved 'ere from Paris." She paused, smile never wavering as the murmers faded. " I 'ope that you will befriend me if you wish, I am quite lost in 'zis new school." Heero found himself staring at her porclein face, lips painted ruby red. To his suprise, the look was returned. Claire's smile turned up at the corners lightly. Heero looked away.
"Very good Claire, thank you. You may sit wherever you like." She nodded, and turned her attention back to Heero, moving in his direction. The dissapointment on other boy's faces was almost comedically obvious. Walking up the stairs to Heero's seat, she stopped by Duo. He grinned, motioning to the seat next to him. One look at his notebook, crammed with Hilde's name, sent her switching to the seat beside Heero instead.
"'Zis will be a good year, ne?" Her green eyes sparkled with silent laughter. Heero did not answer.
"Now, class, where was I...Ah yes. Consider this. In your dreams, you are to live out your deepest desires, impossible things you've never even considered in reality. It cannot be real. These things are impossibilities. And yet, it is said that if you die in your dreams, you also die in reality." The teacher paused, picking up her glasses and beginning to clean them in the ruffles of her white tucked blouse. "If you are to die in this dream world, this
impossible world of nothing, and die in reality, wouldn't that make your dreams a form of reality?" The class propped themselves up on elbows and book covers, eyelids drooping with the coming boredom. To Trell's suprise, Claire raised her hand. "Yes, Claire?" She stood, as was customary when sharing a theory, and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress.
"In 'zis theoretical world of dreams, would it not be out of 'ze question for reality to be in 'ze eye of 'ze beholder? What 'iz 'ze chance of our dreams being reality, a perfect world, one where anything can be accomplished. Could it not be true that this 'reality' 'az you 'zay, this world we know, 'iz nothing more than a reflection, broken and faded, of our true existance? Our 'dream' selves? Perhaps our limited minds can only register so much in
'zis 'dream' world..and 'zo...when we 'zimply cannot process anymore.. our minds dull the exubrant 'dream' reality that we live in, and dull it into the world in which we all conzider real..? After all..If you die in your dreams, you die in reality, no? If you die in reality, do you not also have no more dreams..?" The classroom was silent. A pin could have been heard if it were dropped. Claire smiled.
She would not enter this new life without making her presence very known.
Chapter Two: Bonjour, mon cher
It had been a long night. Heero had spent his sleepless hours accompanied only by Duo's dream-filled snoring. Occasionally his leg would kick and throw the sheets off of himself, in which case he would roll over and snore louder until Heero returned the blanket to it's rightful place.
Relena had left early that morning. Heero had seen her off around five-thirty at the airport. The air was thick with moist, thick mist. It was a very gray morning...
The cold had cut him to the marrow, a chill wind was present. She had talked to him, assured him that she would write, that it wasn't really going to be that long of a time. He nodded several times, listening from some distant corner of his mind. His mouth told her everything was fine. But he felt no attatchment to those words. She was his foundation. All those years without her had been hell..
"Everything will be fine Relena.." Those words, falsities though they might have then, coaxed Relena onto her pre-dawn flight. Heero had watched the plane leave from an empty waiting room, his palm pressed against the chill glass window. He stayed as the plane grew more and more distant, until it finally dissapeared into the mist. Heero hesitated before leaving, looking to the spot where he lost sight as if it would somehow seem she was still there.
It was now near noon. He sighed as he walked to his first class, his eyes turned to the cracked and earth-worn sidewalk below, his books cradled loosley under an arm. First lesson of the day: Philosophy.
****
Hilde rose painfully onto a toe pointe, bringing her arms upward into a graceful, swan-like pose. The taps of her ballet shoes upon wooden stage echoed through the darkened theater, the only noise about. The hundreds of red cotton seats were empty, no spotlights shone. She had come through a back window to practice.
Her breath came in short gasps, face and neck drenched with sweat. Hilde's mindset was focused, laser-like upon her flowing body. She had to be the best. She had to be. Moving her arms above her head, she spun in a very quick manner, the silk ribbon that held her bun flopping wildly.
In a few weeks, all of those empty seats would be full. Full of admirers, specators, critics, all there to see the play, the fluid motions of the dancer's bodies as they painted a story across the light-flooded stage. And she would be the star. She would be the best.Tryouts were in three days. She had so little time..
Hilde relaxed a moment, moving to the water bottle opposite her. She picked it up and took a long, deep sip, wiping beads of perspiration from her forehead. The cool water spread through her immedietly, rejuvinating, refreshing. Mr. Robinson had to give her that part. It was all she wanted, all she yearned for. She had to work harder.
Setting her water bottle down and walking to center stage once again, Hilde began to dance.
****
Amidst the laughter and shouts, chatting and settling, Heero laid his books down. Five minutes remained until class began. Relena's seat was unbearably empty. He bent his neck a little, closing his eyes to all the noise in thought.
"Ugh..She's not here yet..I hope she's not sick...poor babe..." Duo flicked honey-brown bangs from his eyes, full of concern. "Heero, have you seen Hilde? She hasn't shown." Heero didn't answer. Duo sighed, plopping to a sit and folding his arms over his chest. "Tch..like talking to a brick."
"Alright class, open your books to page three-hundred and twenty-four." Professor Trell spat the instructions before even reaching the podium. "Open your notes as well." The class did as they were instructed, the sound of binders opening and pens clicking filling the room. Heero glanced over at Duo, who was already busy writing "I love Hilde" as many times as would allow on his first sheet.
"Let me present to you this theory, my students.." The middle aged woman removed her glasses and began to pace the floor slowly. "In your dreams, you are to-" She was cut off by a rather loud pounding at the door. All heads raised as she walked, slightly frustrated at the interruption, to the knocking. She twisted the handle and opened the door.
Standing there was a petit young girl. She was dressed in a stylish black sleeveless knee-length dress, complete with black buret and matching shoes. Her hair fell in tousled red strands, contradicting with the black radically. Her eyes were a piercing green, and resided under long, full black lashes. The girl leaned over and whispered something to Professor Trell, switching her books to her other delicate arm.
The professor nodded silently, then motioned for the girl to take the podium. Dozens of curious eyes scanned her for any sign of anything, arrogance, weakness, any fake airs. But the girl emitted nothing but cool confidence, and could not be read any further. It was as if she wouldn't allow it. "Students, we have a new addition to our class.." Professor Trell nodded to the mysterious young girl, signaling her to speak.
"'Allo." She smiled in a curtious, yet self-assured sort of way. "My name iz Claire. I 'ave just moved 'ere from Paris." She paused, smile never wavering as the murmers faded. " I 'ope that you will befriend me if you wish, I am quite lost in 'zis new school." Heero found himself staring at her porclein face, lips painted ruby red. To his suprise, the look was returned. Claire's smile turned up at the corners lightly. Heero looked away.
"Very good Claire, thank you. You may sit wherever you like." She nodded, and turned her attention back to Heero, moving in his direction. The dissapointment on other boy's faces was almost comedically obvious. Walking up the stairs to Heero's seat, she stopped by Duo. He grinned, motioning to the seat next to him. One look at his notebook, crammed with Hilde's name, sent her switching to the seat beside Heero instead.
"'Zis will be a good year, ne?" Her green eyes sparkled with silent laughter. Heero did not answer.
"Now, class, where was I...Ah yes. Consider this. In your dreams, you are to live out your deepest desires, impossible things you've never even considered in reality. It cannot be real. These things are impossibilities. And yet, it is said that if you die in your dreams, you also die in reality." The teacher paused, picking up her glasses and beginning to clean them in the ruffles of her white tucked blouse. "If you are to die in this dream world, this
impossible world of nothing, and die in reality, wouldn't that make your dreams a form of reality?" The class propped themselves up on elbows and book covers, eyelids drooping with the coming boredom. To Trell's suprise, Claire raised her hand. "Yes, Claire?" She stood, as was customary when sharing a theory, and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress.
"In 'zis theoretical world of dreams, would it not be out of 'ze question for reality to be in 'ze eye of 'ze beholder? What 'iz 'ze chance of our dreams being reality, a perfect world, one where anything can be accomplished. Could it not be true that this 'reality' 'az you 'zay, this world we know, 'iz nothing more than a reflection, broken and faded, of our true existance? Our 'dream' selves? Perhaps our limited minds can only register so much in
'zis 'dream' world..and 'zo...when we 'zimply cannot process anymore.. our minds dull the exubrant 'dream' reality that we live in, and dull it into the world in which we all conzider real..? After all..If you die in your dreams, you die in reality, no? If you die in reality, do you not also have no more dreams..?" The classroom was silent. A pin could have been heard if it were dropped. Claire smiled.
She would not enter this new life without making her presence very known.