*--*

Master Long's brother? This girl . . . Kristen . . . had trained under Master Long's brother, Shao? It was impossible! He would have told me . . . wouldn't he have? I was almost positive he would. Why would he keep such a secret from me? Maybe . . . maybe because of the war? I wouldn't want my identity revealed, either. I didn't know what to say. "I'm . . . I'm not sure . . . ."

She had tears in her eyes. Both of our teachers had died when L-5 exploded. That brought back unpleasant and unwanted memories. I pushed them aside for now. "I'm . . . sorry . . . for your loss. My whole clan died then."

"I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry, too. But . . . it wasn't your fault, and it wasn't my fault, even though I want to blame myself for it. It wasn't anyone's fault. It . . . it had to be done."

*--*

I felt bad for WuFei. I truly did. His whole clan . . . his friends, his family . . . everyone gone. "So you are the last one?"

He nodded. "I am the last descendant, and heir to the throne."

Great. So not only was he Master Long's favorite student, he was royalty, too, in a sense. At least, ruler of a dead nation.

He muttered something, then exclaimed, "My mission! How long have I been here?"

I hesitated. He seemed pretty angry. But then again, he'd get even madder if I lied or didn't tell him the whole truth. I grimaced, and then answered. "Four days."

He jumped up immediately, staggering only a little. "What?! You must be lying!" He grabbed my arm forcefully, causing me to wince at the pain it caused my injury. "Tell me the truth, woman!"

*--*

She shook her head. "I *am* telling the truth, WuFei. You have been here, under my care, for four days. You just regained consciousness yesterday." She pulled her arm from my grasp.

Four days. I had been detained here four days. I guess it didn't really matter, considering the mission had obviously been successful. It had to have been. Otherwise, I would not be here. Kristen must have defeated the rest of the mobile suits. That's when I noticed the white bandages tied sloppily around her upper right arm. The one I had grabbed earlier. I was close enough to touch them. "You didn't do so good, here. What did you do?"

She hissed when I touched her arm a second time. "It's nothing. Just a little scratch, that's all."

I didn't believe that for a second. A Gundam pilot, letting a little cut bother her? And the bandage ran all the way from her shoulder down to her elbow. "Nonsense. Now, let me see." She glared at me for a long while before warily letting me untie the strips of uneven cloth. She had put on three layers, I thought to keep infection out, but now looked like to keep the blood from showing through. The top layer was a thick cloth-like material. As soon as I stripped it off, I could see the blood seeping through the second latyer, soaking it and turning it a deep red colour. When I pulled off the bottom layer, Kristen gasped in pain, and I could not help but see why.

Her whole upper arm was a bright red, and the area around the would was more this, and swollen. This, in itself, might not have been so bad, but the fact that the gash ran almost as long as the bandage had been made it worse.

"Kristen. . ." I said, breaking the silence.

"Shut up," she hissed through gritted teeth. "I *know* I didn't do a very good job. It's not like I'm left-handed."

"It's infected," I said quietly. Understatement of the year. It looked like she had dipped her own arm into a vat of bacteria. This time she didn't even talk; she just glared. I sighed. "I'll see if I can help." I got up to get some medical supplies. Kristen sat sullenly on the bed. I came back, standing in the doorway. "Does it hurt?"

"No," she said, the lie plain on her face. I didn't even bother correcting her.

"Is there anything else I should know about?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes. . . but nothing to be bothered about. A sprained ankle, at the very most."

I started wrapping her arm in fresh, clean bandages. Halfway through, I felt the weight of her arm on my shoulder. I blushed, but continued until I had finished. "Kristen, I'm done . . . ." She didn't answer. "Kristen?" Still nothing. I shifted a bit, and her head almost fell off my shoulder. She was sleeping. I looked outside. Broad daylight. She shouldn't be sleeping, but. . .

+++

"You've been here, under my care, for four days."

+++

Four days. . . . She probably hadn't slept in as long, too. I'd heard that's how one breaks someone they want to question. Sleep deprivation. Three days against your own will, seventy two hours, was enough to drive one insane. One more day than that, Kristen had stayed up. She must be exhausted.

This made me feel guilty. I had honour. She had taken care of me, and I would return the favour. I picked her up under her armpits, but stopped when I felt bones grate underneath my fingers.

+++

"Is there anything else I should know about?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes. . . but nothing to be bothered about. A sprained ankle, at the very most."

+++

That could be very true, a sprained ankle. But Kristen had just a little more than that, including at least a couple of cracked, if not broken, ribs.

"Geez. . . ." I at least let her keep her dignity, though sleeping, by only lifting up her shirt to tape her ribs, blushing all the while. There was no way she'd let me do this if she were awake.

*--*