Quatre smiled as Heero walked into the kitchen. "Good morning!" he said, almost as cheerful as Duo had been earlier.

"Hn."

Trowa looked up from his seat on the counter. His green eyes met Heero's blue ones, and the look in them was easily readable. Convention…my God. Quatre was oblivious to the other two's contempt for the social later on. "We're leaving for the Great Hall early today." A rather murderous look crossed Trowa's face. "Relena's going to be there, and there's something I need to ask her."

At the mention of Relena's name, Heero paled. He had no idea why, but he found he was suddenly shaking. He leaned back against the wall, hoping that the others wouldn't notice. His hope was dashed. Quatre almost immediately noticed and a worried look crossed his face. "What's wrong, Heero? Do you feel alright?" Quatre glanced at Trowa, looking for help from the silent boy. Trowa shrugged and Quatre turned his gaze back to Heero, who was starting to sweat. "If you don't feel okay, you don't have to go… You shouldn't go, actually." Heero shook his head.

"I'll go."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine. I'll go." Heero took in a deep breath. The pounding in his chest soon ceased and he straightened, pushing away from the wall. Quatre stared after him as he left the kitchen.
He turned to Trowa. "I hope he's alright…"

"He's fine." Personally though, Trowa doubted that Heero was 'alright'. Normally, the pilot would have taken any excuse to stay home and not go. He seemed just about ready to make up such an excuse when Relena's name had been mentioned, and then he'd lost color but was suddenly determined to go. Trowa shook his head. There was no figuring him out…