"Hello? This is Mrs. Barton speaking. May I help you?"

"Mrs. Barton?" asked Iria in an excited voice, "We've got a match! Trowa's blood matches our Quatre's! May we please have some of his bone marrow to transplant? It's Quatre's only hope. Please, Mrs. Barton-"

"No! I will not help that son of a bitch who stole my own son's chair! Who do you think you are, calling up people asking for bone marrow."

"For your information ma'am, I am a certified doctor who does not enjoy making phone calls. I'm trying to save my little brother's life here! Don't you understand?! Quatre is my father's only son! He is my only little brother! What has he ever done to you? Anything bad, horrible? Dear Allah, Mrs. Barton, he is your son's BEST FRIEND!"

"My answer is final. NO. N - o. No. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Barton, but if Quatre dies, I will be sure to make the world know it was your fault. Your fault that you let an innocent little boy die."

"INNOCENT?! You call that blonde haired freak innocent?! He-"

*~CLICK*~

Iria slammed the phone down, tears stinging her eyes.

"Miss Iria, please understand my mother. She's a little...upset right now. It's my fault, really. I told her even when Quatre told me not to. It was just too unbelievable...I'm sorry."

The doctor sighed. "It's not your fault, Trowa. Go home. I don't want any trouble."

"We could still do the transplant if you want. Just don't tell my mother. I'm out somewhere all the time, so she won't know..."

"No, Trowa," she said, a small smile on her face, "we can't. Your mother is a very powerful person when you're under eighteen. We could get sued and everything along those lines. There's a death penalty to that too. L4 is just not the same anymore...it's ruled by a different Alliance-a dominating one. Your mother knows as well as I do that they hate doctors. They believe that Allah will heal them with his own power-but even I am starting to doubt Allah. Perhaps it will be better to change faiths. Allah has not done anything to help us, only hurt us. Yes, perhaps it is time to change traditions."

Trowa nodded his head. "As much as I want to help Quatre, Miss Iria, I understand what you mean. With one complaint, they could kill all the doctors in the entire colony. But please, Miss Iria, call me if anything goes wrong. Anything. Quatre is my best friend. And...tell him...tell him that if I've hurt him by not talking to him anymore, please ask him to forgive me...my mother won't let me even speak to him. She found out one time when I was talking to him, and she said that the next time I do, she would kill him herself. Please...don't let him think I hate him, because I don't...he's like my little brother too."

A single tear rolled down Trowa's face. "I was adopted, you know...I lost both my parents and whatever siblings I had...Quatre and the rest of the gang are like my family-my real family. I never thought that such an instrument could break us all up."

He turned around, and left the hospital.