This is my latest creation, and my best hope. I apologize for not getting the chapters out, things have been rather hectic in little old Kansas. But to be quite frank, this chapter took a lot out of me to write. Not for the faint of heart.
Chapter 2: True Intentions
~~~
I had gone to the library with the girls, where we did our homework and then talked. Sometimes it was about Toraneko's adorable crush on Mr. Shin, others on Fawkes' extreme need of recreation. I walked slowly toward the place that should have been a haven from the "cruelties" of school life, twisting my pendant in my hands.
But it was not.
Once home, time seems to stop for me. Either that, or it goes very, very slowly. Here's why; the moment I got in the door, I was grabbed and thrown roughly against the wall.
"Oof!" I cried out as my back hit and I heard the sickening sound of my bones resisting and stretching its neighbor.
"Where've y'been, g'rl?" snarled my obviously-drunk father. A one-two punch to my stomach made me hurt worse than before. "Ah miss muh toy."
Well, I certainly didn't miss him. I wished just once he wouldn't say that, say that he loved me as his daughter, not his "toy". Wish I had a dad who cared enough to ask me how my grades were, who my friends were, whether I had enemies or not.
Guess wishing doesn't count.
"I'm sorry I'm late, daddy," I said, my voice honeysuckle-sweet. It was the only way to keep him happy. Keep daddy happy, keep too much from showing later.
"Sorry?!" he slurred again. "Why you li'l brat!" He swung his great fist at me, but I ducked quickly. Taking hold of my chocolate locks, he threw me against the wall, pinning me there. I knew I was in for it if he didn't pass out soon.
"Da-"
I never finished the statement. A fist landed on my left cheek, once, twice, thrice, four times. Luckily, my jaw and cheek bones remained intact. The other fish punched my right shoulder, sending me sprawling to the ground.
He pounced like a lioness (AN-Yes, lioness. The lions don't hunt.) on it's prize, and finally, blessedly, passed out from exhaustion and drunkenness.
Why did I do this to myself?
~~~
Heero was only just about to leave when the doctor came rushing after him, stating that Releena was requesting his presence in the hospital room. Dr. Peters had said it was an urgent matter. The umber-brown-haired Perfect Soldier only mentally rolled his navy eyes as he headed back toward the room. She probably just wanted to annoy him more.
He entered the room all the same. Stupid pride, he thought. Stupid Wufei for teaching me it. Most normal men in his position would say, "Yeah, what is it?". But Heero Yuy only stood there in stoic silence, his own way of saying he wasn't happy to be here. Actually, he wasn't normally happy to be anywhere, but that was beside the point.
"Heero," Releena croaked out. Her lips were swollen from being hit in the face too many times, and the majority of her body was in a cast. "Call Matt Deons. I need him to substitute for me. In the phone book in my briefcase. Give him the papers in it, too."
"Hn," Heero grunted and bent only to retrieve the case.
"Thank you, Heero."
Heero paused only momentarily in the hospital doorway. He was tempted to say something, but what? What were the polite words of respect and honor that he had forgotten under his trials as the pilot of Wing Zero? What were the words buried beneath statistics and strategies, weapons and tactics? Oh, yes.
"You're welcome."
With that, he left.
***
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Yuy, but I can't sub for Ms. Peacecraft," stated Matt Deon on the other line. "My schedule has already been filled for the next month. I hope she gets better soon."
"Right. Good-bye," Heero hung up upon the older man's cheery farewell and another wish for Releena's well-being. What was he going to do now? Glancing back at Releena's room, he knew that he could not simply leave her. It went against his honor.
But what could he do?
An idea crept into the Perfect Soldier's mind, born of many years' training in creative problem solving (AN-Yeah, right. Shoot anything that moves, more like it!) and of desperation. Picking up the phone once again, he dialed the one number that reached his four closest companions. He was greeted by a very loud, very obnoxious, and very high-pitched voice, belonging to a certain braided idiot.
"Heero! What's up, are you coming home, is Releena all right, how's it going at her school, what was it called-"
"MAXWELL! Shut up!" shouted a voice that sounded very much so like Wufei. Heero was certain it was him, for the next moment, the phone dropped on the other end. The umber-haired Perfect Soldier waited patiently for one of his comrades, more-than-likely Quatre or Trowa, to pick up the phone once again.
"Quatre's trying to break them up," came Trowa's voice over the phone. "What is going on?"
"I need some teaching degrees, preferably some good ones. I will be substituting for Releena."
"Releena? What happened?"
***
~~~
Waking the next morning was a painful process. The punches to my stomach had been pretty bad, and I was certain he had cracked one of my ribs. My face ached also, and I noticed that one of my arms was bleeding as well. Where had that come from?
My lips released a small groan as I rolled off the bed and dressed. Baggy blue shirt, blue jeans, sneakers, and a cerulean jacket with a deep hood. I ran a brush through my chin-length brown hair and shrugged on my pack.
As I pulled the hood over my head, I grimaced as I could still see the black bruises. Make-up! Time to head to school.
***
"Siri, why is it that every time I see you, you've got blue on somewhere?" Tari asked as I pulled up to meet her in the hallway. Under the weight of my pack, I couldn't shrug properly, so I shook my head gently. She let out a long, forced sigh, then grinned brightly.
"Let's just get to Ms. Peacecraft's class, I want to talk to her about what Ichinoku said yesterday," I replied as a change of subject. "And about our current subject. I just don't get why she is so set on making us memorize the names of the Gundams and their pilots. She used to despise them, remember?"
She nodded. "I wonder what changed her mind."
"Maybe she met one," I gasped at the thought. "Remember yesterday, she was rambling on and on about how it was like to almost have been killed so many times."
"I doubt it," Tari stated hesitantly. "She just doesn't seem the type to be set on one person like that."
I dropped my shoulders and stared at her. "You kidding me, Tari? She may love everyone, but she's got her heart out for one person, just like the rest of us do."
"I know, I know, destiny and all."
We giggled together before heading into the room. And stopped short.
Did God miscount his angels and send one to Earth? I mean, who on planet Earth could look like one so well? But if there is one thing my father's taught me, it's this; looks don't mean a thing. Before anyone could see what I was thinking, I replaced my bitter scowl with a brilliant smile.
"Good morning, ladies," stated the man in a sure monotone. He looked toward Tari, then to me, then gestured toward the seats. Uncomfortable was the understatement of the century for me. I toyed with my pendant as he spoke again. "Sit down. Class will begin momentarily." Where was his emotion? Never had I seen anyone who could feel so little like that. He had gone from angel to soulless in an instant. His eyes were a blank, as though his very soul had forsaken him. No, upon further inspection of him, this could never be one of God's angels, save perhaps a fallen one trying to save face.
Yet every movement he made seemed to send me over the edge in anticipation. As though I were waiting for him to just write his name on the board, or turn about as his dark hair swung opposite his face. He turned his back to the class, his white dress shirt barely concealing built muscles, as were his black slacks. The shiny black boots he wore seemed to reflect his navy blue eyes; soulless but bright.
When he turned about again, I saw what he'd done. On the extremely clean blackboard was written thus; Mr. Joshua Harding. So that was his name. Harding. Just thinking about the name soothed me, as though just seeing his face could send me into a dreamful abyss of wonder and beauty. But wait. Hadn't he sent me over the edge?
"Confusing, isn't it?" Tari whispered to me from her desk. I was scared she'd seen into my eyes and seen the way I was thinking, but she dashed that thought with her next words. "One day Ms. Peacecraft is here, next we have this guy. He can't be any older than her, right?"
"Seventeen, to be exact," answered the man, now found to be a boy, coolly. "Ms. Peacecraft had an accident and will not be in school for the next three months."
"Why? What happened?" Tari asked, immediately worried. My fidgeting increased yet again. What kind of accident could lead to Ms. Peacecraft not being in school for three whole months?
"I am not certain of the details. I do know that someone who has connections within this school sent two men to beat her. Had someone not intervened, they would have successfully killed her," the boy answered her crisply. But the entire thing was spoken with such a lack of emotion that I could not tell that he wasn't a pre-warned media reporter of some sort.
"So, how should we address you?" I asked, keeping my status as the happiest-go-luckiest girl in the school.
"Mr. Harding will suffice."
Mr. Harding it was. But my true question was a little more personal, something I would ask only if I could ever get the poor guy alone. Why had he spoken with us in the first place? He did not seem the talkative type. Why had he even agreed to be a teacher if he disliked talking? Why was he teaching history, when he himself was so young?
How wrong I was.
The bell rang and the "usual" began in the class when we had a sub. Absolute chaos enforced itself onto the crowd of teenaged, oversexed group of heathens. Mr. Harding stood at the head of the class with a roll sheet and Tari and I glanced at each other knowingly. How was the guy the same age as the rest of us ever going to manage keeping this crowd?
"Hn," Harding grunted aloud as he looked over the list. He seemed to mutter something, which seemed to be something in Japanese or Chinese or something along those lines. It sounded suspiciously like Omake no Kiyone, which I knew to mean End of "Kiyone", in literal terms. I hoped there was no one named Kiyone in that class.
Then the umber-haired boy pulled out a black device and held it over his head. It looked like something I had a sneaking suspicion he shouldn't have in school. He pressed a red button on the device and a loud bang ensued.
The class fell silent.
Harding blew the top of the tape recorder as though he were blowing smoke off the top of a gun.
"Now that I have your undivided attention, allow me to introduce myself," he began. "I am Joshua Harding of the Harvard University class of after colony 190. I will be your instructor for the next three months, minimum. I do not tolerate tardiness or late papers, nor do I accept excuses for thus. Are there any questions before I continue?"
A hand rose.
"What happened to Ms. Peacecraft?"
"An accident which has temporarily put her out of the game," he answered stiffly. "Any other questions?"
If there had been a cricket to chirp, they would have been the only ones singing a happy tune that day. Yet again, you could find me fiddling with my pendant.
"Good. I have thoroughly studied the curriculum Re-Ms. Peacecraft has been teaching you. She has given me her entire grading scale and I have approved of it. Therefore, we will continue as planned. However, there will be several minor changes in here."
"Such as?" crowed a voice from the back.
"A seating chart."
The room fell into a deadly taboo of silence.
"What the hell's up with that?!" yelled an angry voice. Glancing back under my hood, I saw it to be Frank Ichinoku. Again.
"Nothing is 'up' with it," Harding intoned. "You will abide by my rules or you will hit the road. Is that understood?"
Silence again.
"Sit where I instruct to you. Aurora. Capri. Cutley. Daniels. Hamn. Ichinoku..." and on down the line. I ended up in the same seat. Tari, whose last name was Indigo, ended up right next to me. We were happy with the setup, as was Frank, because he was still in the back.
The classroom wasn't that large; precisely thirty chairs, with six columns and five periods (going off the Periodic Table theoretically). Only two chairs remained empty, making this a class of twenty-eight. I admired Harding's method; it was justified, and he could know who we were easier.
"I expect you to stay in those seats each day," Harding continued as he named off the last name, Zendo. "If not, you will be counted absent. And I have as of yet to forget my own setup."
He turned his back to the class for a moment, then returned with a teacher's edition textbook. I brought out my own student textbook and a notebook, prepared to take notes on a lecture or a lesson at any time.
"We will see what your knowledge is so far," he stated again. I could tell that this much talking was not what he normally did. "Daniels, what is the name of the pilot who flew Heavyarms?"
"Wufei Chang?" Scooter Daniels said, not at all correct.
"Incorrect. Capri, what is the Gundam Chang flew?"
"Shenlong," I answered instantaneously. "But rumor has it that he himself called it Nataku."
"Good. Jennings, pilot of Heavyarms?"
"Trowa Barton."
"Good. Yasha, Deathsythe."
"Maxwell."
"First name?"
"Uh....Doug?"
"Wrong. Miller?"
"Duo Maxwell."
This went on for quite some time before all five pilots and their Gundams were matched accordingly. Quatre Raberba Winner flew Sandrock and Heero Yuy flew Wing Zero, which had been installed with a very powerful system that imputed statistics and battle tactics directly into Yuy's mind. It was said only he could withstand such a power.
I pitied the real Heero Yuy and wondered what he was really like. Was he happy-go-lucky, like me because of my situation? Was he just trying to get by, neither content nor brooding? Was he a brooder, a philosopher who fought only because he wanted to? Or was he completely stripped of all feeling?
The last statement truly sickened me. But, in all matter of fact, it fully described Harding, though I knew it was impossible it could have been him. The true Heero Yuy was probably well into his forties when he even began training. Why, if it were even possible, Harding would have to have been at least seven if he'd begun training like that.
Nonsense, though. It would have been utter madness to teach a child to shoot a gun and to kill people in cold blood like that. Pure and utter insanity of any scientist or colonel to do such a thing.
But then take Ms. Peacecraft into consideration. She was sixteen when she was appointed Queen of the World. Such a childish dream it was, but she had accepted only because she had thought it was the right thing to do at the time.
Funny how war can warp one's sense of right and wrong. Like it had my dad.
"Peacecraft has taught you well," Harding spoke again, breaking into my thoughts. The bell rang and I stood to gather my things. "Indigo, Capri, I want to speak with you two after class."
Tari and I waited until the others had all filed out of the classroom before approaching Harding's desk. He stacked a bunch of papers together, then turned to regard us.
"You wanted to see us, Mr. Harding?" Tari asked, much braver than I was. I couldn't help but stare into his soulless blue orbs, nor could I help watching his every move from beneath my deeply-hooded shirt.
"Yes," Harding answered. "It has been brought to my attention that the two of you know Peacecraft personally, not just on a teaching level." He sounded so sure of himself now. His face was an impenetrable mask, and he seemed to be positively unable to express feelings.
"Yeah, we know her," I said, speaking more bravely than I felt. "Have you even talked with her?"
"I cannot reveal to the school my true intentions."
"True intentions?" I repeated, dumbstruck. What'd he mean by that? And, furthermore, why was he telling the two of us?
"Stop by Peacecraft's house after school," he spoke. "And be very careful not to be followed by anyone. This is the address." He handed me a slip of paper. "Be prepared for anything."
Confusing as it was, we accepted the late pass to Computer and left.
~~~
Heero watched as the two young girls left, only a year, two at most, younger than himself. After explaining to Releena the plan the night before, he felt obligated to let her five most trusted students in on the "secret". Now he would only have to wait for the three other girls. Why did it have to be girls?
That one girl, though, Siri Capri. Her name struck out at him, for what reason, he did not know. She wore that hood up at all times, concealing everything except her sparkling green eyes. She had really pretty eyes, he decided. Like emeralds, almost.
He wished he could have seen her face. Like many before him, the hood baffled his mind. Why would a girl wish to cover her face? It was not like many people. Perhaps she was merely shy and did not like people looking at her.
Confusing as she was, he had to get to work on the next two classes, the ones that were after his planning period, second hour. He wished the day were over already.
~~~
Tari, Toraneko, Telex, Raine, and I met after school, as usual, but headed in a different direction that day. Nervous as I was, you could once again find me messing around with my silver pendant. The others were probably so used to me doing it that they'd forgotten to ever ask about it. I was glad for it, too.
"Where are we going?" Raine asked. "I have somewhere I need to be at seven."
"Me at six," put in Telex.
"Five," Toraneko spoke quietly. "Wonder if there is a correlation?"
"Well, we need to get to Ms. Peacecraft's," I said, shaking my head as it spun from too much information. "Mr. Harding asked us there after school."
"WHAT?!" shouted the other three in perfect unison. "He said the same to me!" We all exchanged looks.
"It appears we have all been asked to the same place at different times," Raine said slowly, pointing out the obvious for the benefit of the rest of us.
"We can always surprise him and show up all at once," giggled Toraneko.
"I agree. Let's go," Tari spoke. "I'm curious as to what he wants us there for."
"Me too." I nodded grimly. What had he asked us to Ms. Peacecraft's house for? Why all of us, without the others' knowledge? One thing was obvious; I did not like the way things were looking. Not one bit.
~~~
"You did what?!" was what Heero had expected from Releena when he arrived at her home and explained to her his doings at school. She had actually taken it better than he'd thought. She merely nodded and smiled (though how he knew, he couldn't tell).
"Who did you ask here first?" she managed to say.
"Siri Capri. Hawatari Indigo. Toraneko Sawaguchi. Raine Waltz. Telex Vega."
"How on Earth did you know they were friends? That they could help?" Releena asked. She was getting better at talking, but it was still that hoarse, not-quite-whisper voice.
"I didn't."
"Then why?"
"They seemed the most trustworthy."
Releena would have drew back in surprise if not for her body cast. "Since when were you such a good judge of character?"
"Hn."
Releena sighed. She knew she wouldn't get any more out of him on the subject. A buzz from the doorbell made her jump. Heero made his way toward it, unperturbed. When did that boy ever get nervous or jumpy or anything? Did he even have emotions? Releena knew he had some, but knew also that it was buried beneath so many statistics.
~~~
The five of us reached the front stoop of Releena's huge house and had to take a step back to re-gather our bearings. Jeez, former Queen of the World sure had a big place. But it was rather small for her former position.
Rather small as in a small mansion. Three stories tall, it took up half the city block. Feather-blue siding and white trim, it was all a person could want in a home. She must get lonely in there, though. She wasn't married.
Raine was the first to gather her courage and press the white button on the speaker-doorbell. A faint buzzing noise let me know it was working. She stepped back and we waited patiently for someone to answer.
"Who is it?" came Harding's cold, emotionless voice. Why did my fidgeting suddenly increase when I heard it?
"It's us, Mr. Harding," Tari spoke up. "All five of us."
Harding seemed to pause a moment. "Come inside."
The gate flew open robotically and we walked cautiously up the steps of the stoop and stopped at the front door. It too opened, but was opened by Harding himself. He grunted lightly and gestured toward the living room, where I could see the dusty blonde of Ms. Peacecraft's hair, encased almost entirely inside a white body cast.
"Ms. Peacecraft!" I cried out on instinct. No one attempted to stop me as I raced ahead and knelt to her eyelevel. "Ms. Peacecraft, what happened? Are you okay?"
"Calm down, Siri," she chuckled lightly, but it did not sound like her. The voice I heard was so low and gravelly, I was almost certain someone was impersonating her. But I knew it to be her. No one else could talk to me like that. Not even my friends. "I'm all right, really. I see you've met my, quote, unquote, 'substitute'." I drew back in confusion. What did she mean by "quote, unquote"? She laughed again. "You're smart, Siri. You'll find out soon enough. Heero, explain, please, my throat is killing me."
"Heero?" I questioned, against bewildered. "I thought his name was Joshua Harding?"
Ms. Peacecraft laughed again.
"Go on and explain, Heero, or do I have to call up Duo to do it?"
"Hn," Heero grunted. "I'm not Joshua Harding."
"Well, yeah, we sorta figured that one out, Sherlock," Tari stated sarcastically. "Heero" simply gave Tari a glare that would have killed if looks could. I learned much later on that this was my first glimpse of Heero's infamous "death glares".
"Hush, girls, Heero isn't a patient person," Ms. Peacecraft said calmly.
Heero remained silent.
"Start at the beginning, Heero," Ms. Peacecraft suggested quietly. "When I was attacked."
"Hn," this grunt language was really beginning to bug me, "Releena was being attacked by an American Indian man and an Italian. My comrades should have their data soon. We have reason to believe that the school is being used to traffic drugs and weapons, possibly to begin another war."
"Another one?" Toraneko gaped. "But they just finished up with the last one! Why would they want to start another?!"
"Same reason any soldier wants to," Telex shrugged. "It's in their blood, in their system, they can't shake the need to kill or be killed. The urban jungle and the family life just ain't for them."
I admired her knowledge on such and wondered where she had gotten such information.
"The War Between Worlds," Ms. Peacecraft smiled. I couldn't tell how I knew she was, I just...knew.
"Who are your suspects?" Raine asked, all business.
"No one at the moment. Anyone in that school could be the culprit," Heero shrugged.
"Okay, then," Tari stated with utmost confidence. "What about you?"
"What about me?" Heero repeated coolly.
"Heero..." Ms. Peacecraft warned him.
Heero rolled his eyes only enough that I saw him. The others would have been shocked he'd do such a thing when a woman who seemed to love him said something like that. I wasn't. I could tell he didn't like Ms. Peacecraft, not the way she liked him. But I could see why she looked at him like that.
"I am Heero Yuy, former pilot of Wing Zero."
***
Ooh...this story keeps getting better! But does Releena really have as much hold over Heero as she thinks? And what's up with Heero telling the girls to come to Releena's house? Why did those men attack her?