Sousuke stood silently, sweeping the last of the classrooms.

It was late. The other students had left long ago. After a bit of finger wagging and lecturing from his teacher, he had set about on his Detention duties.

The long sweeping motion of his arms and the rhythmic pattern of his actions lulled his mind to a contemplative state. He thought about Kaname. When she said that she hated him, it made him feel hollow inside. All of his recent thoughts had seemed to have been pointless, a mental Maginot Line. He had already been confused to begin with. He certainly didn't need something else to tie his neurons in a tangle.

But, Sousuke remembered a different time. He had come back from the South China Sea, finished with an abortive mission meant to find the terrorist group A21. Walking across the softball field while Kaname was running the bases, he had mentioned that he had forgotten the study session that she had arranged with him. Kaname hit him on the back of the head with second base.

At lunch time, Kaname shared food with her friends that she worked hard to make for him that night before… the night he never showed up wand didn't remember to call. When the girls called him over to their table against her wishes, he presented Kaname with the special jewelry he had made for her, stressing the importance of its practicality. She took offense at that and detonated a flash bang in his face. On the walk home he asked her to reconcile their relationship and she had been angered by his narrow view of duty and obligation. She had said 'You make it really easy to hate you.'

That had hurt, even though he wasn't certain just why back then. He hadn't cared about anything as useless as reasons and feelings. He simply catalogued the discomfort and went about his duty. Pain was a common occurrence in his line of work. It was best not to dwell on it. The walk back to his apartment that evening had been lonely, nonetheless.

Sousuke stopped sweeping. He was feeling lonely now as well. But, that was not Kaname's fault. There was no way that a soldier on duty should find himself in a situation where he is too attached to the person he is guarding. How the mighty had fallen. Sousuke Sagara, ace Arm Slave pilot, scourge of evil doers from the jungles of South America to the rice paddies of Southeast Asia. Sousuke Sagara, melancholy student, pining away after who knows what.

"Hate..." he said. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. His attention was focused totally inward. He didn't take notice of someone standing in the dark outside of the room. He shook his head and straightened his back, then got back to sweeping. "Hate is not a problem." Sousuke Sagara, soldier of Mithril, had been hated by numerous enemies on countless missions. Hate had not stunted his growth. It had not spoiled his aim or lessened his stamina. He could not recall any time where hate had adversely affected his reflexes.

It wasn't a question of hate per se. It was a question of acceptance... and approval... maybe more. A blue-haired girl. And, an overzealous fish out of water. "It appears that I am the problem."

Bending over with a dustpan, he saw a magazine someone had careless tossed aside. He picked it up, intending to throw it away. Instead, he stared at the cover. It was 'CREA,' one of the mainstream publications favored by the popular crowd. The boy and girl pictured on the cover held his attention. The girl was pretty and smiling. She was happy, and was hanging onto the boy. There was no halisen in sight. The boy was dressed in the latest fashion, a sweater tied around his neck. He also looked happy, and held a music player in one hand and a pair of earphones in the other. His outfit showed no tell-tale signs of concealed weapons.

'Top 50 Things for Teens to do in Tokyo,' one header read. 'Expert Tips for the Greatest Date,' another exclaimed. 'Planning for Your Future--- Do's and Don'ts for the Teen on the go.' Sousuke opened the magazine cautiously, almost as if it were a door to an enemy hideaway filled with traps to catch the unwary. The first article he saw was titled 'The Teen Years---enjoy them while they last.' He leafed threw a number of pages and stopped to scan some of the articles and exposes. He closed the magazine...walked over to the garbage can... looked at the cover again... and then dropped the publication into the receptacle.

Shrugging his shoulders, he walked back over to his broom. Still thinking about what it might be like to be a simple teenager, he took out his Glock and looked at it. He fought the urge to break it down and put it back together. Likewise, he refused to take out the clip and confirm how many rounds were left. The handle was smooth and worn. The scratches and nicks each had a story to tell. It felt like a part of his hand. He was overly aware of the combat knife strapped just above one ankle. The weight of a concussion grenade in one pocket caught his notice. Ditto the taser and the ball bearings for his sling.

'Glock 17' wasn't listed under 'Expert tips.' 'Electronics trouble- shooting and late night suveillance' didn't make the 'Top 50.' He had seen no mention of 'Blood, death, and mayhem' under 'Planning for your future.' He shook his head.Him, enjoy the teen years? The same way that he had enjoyed his early childhood? What did arbitrary age categories matter to a soldier who had started killing before he was strong enough to carry a wounded soldier from the battleground? What did they mean to someone who would fight until someday he was died, or could no longer hold up a weapon?

Life marched on. Comrades came and went. Everything was fleeting. He had no business wondering if the grass was greener on the other side. It had been foolish to pin his hopes on something, even if for a few brief moments. Anger flared up inside him. Before he realized what he was doing, Sousuke kicked a desk as hard as he could. It flew up against one wall, knocking a number of items off of a bulletin board before tumbling over the teacher's desk and shaking a line of erasers off of the blackboard. He picked up a chair and was about to throw it out a window. He got himself under control just in time.

"No. It is better this way."

The loss of control shocked Sousuke and caused him to close his eyes and take a number of deep breaths. Why was he feeling this way? Why was he feeling this much? How was today really any different than the day before? A card? An invitation? Some time spent examining his feelings? A disappointment?

Ridiculous! Especially for a Specialist. Indeed. It was irresponsible to let emotions intrude on his carefully scripted mission parameters. He could not serve Kaname to the best of his abilities that way. Then again, maybe his best was not good enough. Was he in any way an asset in Kaname's life? If her reaction that afternoon was any indication, he might well be a greater imposition on her than her being Whispered was. She was a potential target. He was a definite disruption.

Sousuke walked over and retrieved the desk. He put it back in place. There was nothing he could do about the huge dent on its underside. He picked up his broom, tested its weight again, then spun it a couple of times before using it as it was intended. It didn't matter that he always tried his very best, or that everything he did was with Kaname's best interest in mind. I probably didn't count for anything that she was on his mind constantly or that he risked his life for her without hesitation or remorse. Despite all that, it seemed that he made her life miserable.

Seriously. Was her life any better because of his protection? He had his doubts, realizing at that moment that he very much wanted her life to be happy. Not only did he want her life to be better, he wished to be the reason for that improvement. There was no denying it. He had overstepped his bounds. There was no doubt that being a soldier had made him a poor teenager. Would the teenager in him make him a poor soldier? Was there some way to please both sides? Did he need to choose one or the other?

Was it too late?

Had the time for choosing come and gone? There had been no memo. No training session. No instruction sheet or manual. Things outside of the protective cocoon of Da Danaan weren't so neat and tidy. Civilian life was more like the Lambda Driver… something that might prove problematic at inopportune times or when the need was greatest.

It was probably best that Kaname said what she did. He was going to accept her invitation. That might have ended up leading him even more astray. What would he do if he found that he wanted to be led astray? Something inside him was slowly making its way to the surface. Should he hold it down, or assist in the ascent? His anxiety was a near palpable thing. It might dull his senses. He had to wall it away, or learn to deal with it.

"Kaname."

He rested a moment. After wiping the sweat off of his brow with his shirt tail, he took out the card to look at it. Kaname must have worked hard at the calligraphy. The parchment looked expensive. He held the paper up to his nose and inhaled slowly, his eyes closed. Nice. Soothing. Even slightly provocative, to his embarrassment. Walking over to Kaname's desk, he left it inside. Thinking a moment, he took a piece of paper out of his own desk. Finding no pen there, he borrowed one from a nearby piece of school furniture. He wrote her a note:

'Kaname

Thank you for the invitation.

I will not burden you with my answer.

Whether or not you hate me, I will continue to do my best to protect you.

If you wish a replacement bodyguard, I will champion your cause.

My apologies for being deficient.

I do not wish to be a problem.

Sousuke Sagara

Student, Jindai High School'

He wrapped the note around Kaname's card. He had decided not to say the same words in person. He was no good with words. And, his presence might only make her feel worse. Perhaps it would be best if he stayed away from the school for a few days. He had been excluded from a mission coming up in the Sudan. He could still serve a role there, if they would make allowances.

Sousuke took out his pistol, put it on a desk top, and spun it. His eyes took in the blurred shape as it slowed, gun barrel pointing towards him. "I win." He didn't feel like a winner.

It was not a matter of overreacting. He could remember Kaname showing up at his doorstep with a box of food and an apology one night She obviously had not hated him then. She might not truly hate him now. But, no one else caused her to run crying from a room, either. He thought back to the incident with the Full Monty bacteria, when she believed it to be a killer virus. She acted as if she almost felt relieved to die, if it meant she no longer had to deal with his otaku nature. People's words and actions near death are often more honest than at any other time.

Deep inside, Kaname may wish he were gone. Then why did she give him the card? And why did she expect more from him than she did of every other guy? How could he, let alone any male, expect to understand the workings of a female mind?

'You're right. I don't really know you. But you're a great guy. You're really special.' She had said something like that once, aboard the TDD-1, not long after his final battle with Gauron and Venom. He wondered if she would ever be inclined to say something like that again. Those words may just have been caused by her intoxication from the excitement of a near death experience, and the heady nature of being a key figure in the saving of the submarine and all its crew. He found himself hoping that was not the case.

His mind repeated her words over and over again. He saw the same image in his head that he had seen then: a glowing figure of Kaname, naked. Swallowing hard, he realized that he was concentrating on the image, trying to see the details that had been chastely edited out before.

What was he doing! Sweat broke out on his forehead. The more he tried to consciously stop his mental peeping, the harder his subconscious tried to circumvent him. That was not the way a responsible soldier should act! If he was truly intent on protecting Kaname's honor and dignity, he should probably hit himself with Kaname's halisen. Besides, what right did someone like him have to be thinking that way about someone like Kaname. She was bright. She was hard working. She had overcome a number of difficult adversities and managed to be liked and admired.

And she was attractive.

"Uh..."

Well, she was, whether or not he took notice of it… allowed him self to see it… or to say it, unbidden.

Sousuke walked over to a window and opened it, taking a deep breath of the chill night air. He stared out at the moving lights on the street below. Looking off in the dark, he saw past images of a sunset and a spraying fountain. Kaname was there, in her mother's kimono. She had caught him off guard, but no more so than he had surprised himself. She had wanted him to say she was beautiful. He had done so. He had meant it. But, he had not allowed himself to think further on the matter at that time, or afterwards. It had unnerved him. There was the potential for distraction.

There had also been no effort on his part to explore or capitalize on the brief moment they had shared together before his first action in Arbalest. They had been physically close. His eyes had been locked on hers. They had repeated each other's name. There was a mindless yearning inside him that both tantalized and terrified him. For a moment he had felt...

Looking at a speeding delivery truck, Sousuke tried to break that train of thought. Instead, he gave his memory of Kaname an imaginary salute. She had shown herself to be brave and resourceful that night. She had helped save herself, him, and Kurz. It seemed that she was a lot of things. Bright. Hard working. Admired. Beautiful. Brave. Resourceful. Whispered nature aside, she was extraordinary. She was someone who deserved a normal life. She was a person who would benefit from normal friends. No doubt she was a girl who wanted normal walks in normal places under normal circumstances.

Sousuke was not normal. Not even close. He was different…exceedingly so.

Sousuke walked over to Kaname's desk and reached for the card again. He stopped and pulled back his hand. He shook his head. "I am too different. But is different always wrong?" Pent up emotions flooded him then. That was a question he had asked himself many times in the past, but always found some way to avoid answering conclusively.

"No." A girl's voice answered for him.