Reminiscing
(rewritten)

Yzak/Fllay, mentions of Athrun/Lacus

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or anything else related to Gundam: SEED.

Setting: Both seven years after the war and sometime during Fllay's stay on the Versailles. So spoilers, yeah...

Yzak tells Athrun's daughter about the short time he spent with the only girl he ever really loved. Rated for language and a suicide attempt. Maybe a little cliché, but only to keep it canon, I think. There aren't that many Yzak/Fllay fics on here, and I love that pairing. Enjoy.
Edit: I fixed the eye-color-changing girl. LoL. And I edited the overall story a little.
Edited Edit (05/24/09): I took the sound advice of an excellent author and (after four long hours of sweat and carpel-tunnel) revised this story to be more realistic, more in-character, and easier to read straight through. Many thank you's, anja-chan!


"Who was that girl..." Yzak mumbled quietly in his office. A lithe, blue-green-eyed, purple haired teenage girl of about sixteen was noisily chatting away on her cell phone from across the room, much to his annoyance. Why Athrun insisted on having his daughter stay with him during a certain six hours on a certain day of a certain week each month was beyond him.

No, on second thought he could guess. He wasn't that dense. Athrun and Lacus were having a little 'alone time,' no doubt. Yzak had never been fond of women. Or anybody, for that matter. He simply did not like people, his friend/ex-military member, annoying wife, and teenybopper child included. The little girl suddenly stopped mid-conversation and looked up at the silver-haired man.

Holding the phone away from her ear, she asked sweetly with her finger on her lips, "Uncle Zak... what girl?" She must take after her mother.

"Oh, no one darling," 'Uncle' Yzak answered sarcastically, "just a girl I used to work with many years ago."

"Oooh, you had a girlfriend!"

His gaze slowly moved from his papers to the smug-looking girl. "I said she was a co-worker, not a... girlfriend, Marya."

"What was her name?" Here she finally flipped her phone closed without bothering to tell whoever was on the other line she'd call them back.

Yzak tilted his head sideways and thought. He closed his eyes; he remembered her flaming red hair, her icy gray eyes, even her personality disorders where she'd be quiet and cute one minute and a bipolar pain in the ass the next. Still, no matter how long he reminisced about her, he couldn't seem to think of her name. "I don't remember, honey. I think that laptop I let you borrow has high-speed; go check your Myspace or something."

"But I wanna hear about your girlfriend," Marya chimed wickedly. The girl had to take after her mother.

"I said no. I hardly remember her. I don't even know why I was thinking about her."

"Where is she now?"

"She's de... gone. She's gone." Yzak stumbled only a little with his on-spot lie.

"Gone?" Marya asked suspiciously, raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"Yes. Gone."

"Gone where, then?"

"Far away. I'll probably never see her again." I know I'll never see her again...

"But something had to cause you to think about her…"

He pondered that statement for a moment. Marya was right; something had triggered the memory of the red-haired girl. What? His papers, maybe? He looked down at the huge mass of uncoordinated documents and saw the ship's name 'Versailles' in clear, bold letters. The Versailles was the first war ship he'd ever been aboard. That name could spark thousands of memories – most of them awful ones – and the one of that girl was like a lighthouse in a fog storm. The light was clear, though everything else was blurry. "Yes," he replied finally, "Something did, though I highly doubt someone like you could even comprehend the subject matter."

Marya's mouth gaped open. "Did you just call me stupid?!"

"I didn't call you anything," Yzak smirked.

Athrun's daughter huffed at him indignantly. "Daddy says I'm smarter than the other coordinators my age. I got the top scores on all the exams of anyone in my class." She smiled triumphantly, but Yzak laughed at her anyway.

"That only proves you're a suck up just like Daddy."

"Oh, come off it! You know I'm not an idiot. Tell me what reminded you of her."

Yzak stopped his smirking finally and addressed her with a serious look. "You really want to know?" Marya gave him two quick nods. She looked a bit more apprehensive now. "War."

"You mean the one eight years ago between the coordinators and the naturals?"

"No, I mean the one between the Axis and the Allies before the New Era." Yzak rolled his eyes. "I really don't have time for this, Marya. Please just do as you're told and let me finish my work."

"Aaaww, come on Uncle Zak!"

"Marya. Would you want me to tell…Daddy…you were very bothersome today? I could easily get you grounded, you know," Yzak said. He could feel a headache coming on. Seriously, she wasn't usually this annoying to him. Most days she spent in his office either texting quietly or surfing Youtube.

"B-but—! I'm not bothering you..." She pouted for a moment and sat back down in front of the glowing screen of the notebook computer. She sighed melodramatically several times in a row, hoping Yzak would change his mind, but he didn't. He continued to sift through his papers. Time went by slowly, each second dragging on longer. Marya could handle only so much boredom, seeing as how she was a curious teenager.

Once Yzak was finished organizing his other papers, he went straight back to the one on the Versailles. He was so absorbed in his examination of that particular one that he didn't notice Marya plundering through a set of drawers on another desk. No more than three minutes, and she'd torn every scrap picture and paper from the desk, leaving the drawers nakedly empty. When she found nothing that interested her, she moved on to the next drawer. There, lying on top of some old insurance papers was a picture of her uncle standing beside a blond-haired man in a white suit (much like the one Yzak wore now), and in the background, barely visible, was the most beautiful girl Marya had ever seen. Her eyes grew wide with excitement and a tiny gasp escaped her lips at this fine discovery.

Yzak looked up at Marya, curious as to why she was suddenly being so quiet. Marya wasn't the only one with wide eyes now.

"Marya! What the hell have you done to my office?"

Ignoring the angry tone in her uncle's shouts, Marya held up the picture. "Who is that?" She pointed to the red-haired girl in the background. Her voice was painted in wonder and admiration.

"Damnit, that desk took me hours to organize… Don't you ever, ever— Wait...what? What is that?"

"It's a picture I found in your desk. Is she your girlfriend?"

"Give me that!" Yzak stood up from his desk (knocking over his office chair) and lunged for the picture, startling Marya with this sudden and none-too-friendly movement. She quickly reacted and dodged her raging uncle by running to his other desk, but she'd dropped the picture in her scramble. Slowly, Yzak leaned down to pick it up. He turned it around, only to see three small words scribbled on the back: Yzak Joule, Commander Raww Le Creuset, Fllay Allster.

"Zak?" Marya inquired timidly. She dared not venture out from behind the desk, but her curiosity was still at large. "Who's the girl in that picture? Do you know?"

Yzak didn't respond. Seeing Fllay's face again—nearly cut off because the shot had originally supposed to be of only Yzak and Crueset—made the memory of her that much more real. He could even hear her unique voice again in his head, pointlessly critiquing him on something completely irrelevant.

Maybe if he told Marya about Fllay, she would be satisfied about her and finally leave him to his work. What could it hurt? She was old enough to hear it. And she was family, or as close to family as he could get. He walked around behind the disarrayed desk and took a seat.

Marya looked a little shook-up, but other than that her wondrous eyes had never once lost their glow. She also took a seat after setting Yzak's original chair upright again. "So you're finally gonna tell me?" she asked quietly.

Yzak nodded formally. "Yes."

Marya leaned forward in anticipation. She held her breath, waiting for the first word to come from her uncle. Yzak simply grinned and said, "It must've been seven years ago when I first met her. She was a maverick, a wild card. Though she was quiet most of the time, she had a fire in her eyes like no other person I'd ever met - natural or coordinator. She'd make you think twice about her before she even opened her mouth. Her name was Fllay. When Ifirst laid eyes on her, I got the impression that she was bitch. And I was right, sort of. There was more to her than that, though…"

Yzak Joule walked briskly back to his room after having been troubled again by the painful reminder that he was the last remaining member of the Le Crueset Team. ZAFT was everything to him. It was the right side of the war for a coordinator to be fighting on, wasn't it? It was those vile naturals who had caused them so much grief, right?

He rounded a corner squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Nicol had long been dead by now. Athrun and Dearka were gone, also – not dead, but they might as well have been. They certainly weren't coming back. He was the only one left. The last one…

Somewhere between his thoughts on the war and the memories of his friends, Yzak collided head on into someone. It was surely his fault (he was the one walking around with his eyes closed) but he wasn't about to admit to that. He growled and quickly got back to his feet, yelling "Watch where the hell you're going, next time!" to whoever had the unfortunate luck of being in his way.

Their reply was the last thing he expected to hear. Most people on the Versailles would nod and run away. If you had half a sense of self-worth, then you knew better than to cross the path of Yzak Joule. This person's voice was delicate and...rather cute, if he'd ever heard someone with a cute voice before. It most definitely didn't suit the words that were coming from the owner's mouth. "Why don't you watch where you're going next time, you jerk!"

The little girl – she looked like a little girl to Yzak – actually had the gall to smart back at him! Ho ho, well if it was a fight she wanted, it was a fight she'd get. "Now wait just a minute, tater-tot. Who exactly do you think you are to talk to me that way?"

"My name is Fllay Allster, thank you very much, and I know that's who I am. Why don't you run along back to your Gundam thing so you can terrorize some more innocent people? After all, that is what you coordinators like to do in your spare time. The least I can do is keep you from terrorizing the space around my room."

Yzak looked over at the room they were standing in front of; he was too flustered by her other statements to even acknowledge them. "Oh, so this is your room, huh?" he growled. The girl nodded and started to walk around him, but Yzak grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her up against the wall. He remembered seeing her wandering around the ship before now, but since she'd been wearing a uniform of the lowest rank, her likes hadn't concerned him then. Now he had a name to go with a face. "Don't you wanna know who I am?" Fllay stared back into his bright blue eyes, challenging him.

"I know who you are. You're Yzak Joule. Commander Crueset talks about you a lot. I don't see why, though; I thought you pretty much sounded like an inconsiderate bully who was a bit too stuck on himself."

Yzak looked disgusted. Now he remembered why he didn't like girls. They were all insane! "So what if I am? Is that any of your business, you smart-ass little natural—"

"Let go of me!" Fllay shrieked and pushed at Yzak with every bit of strength she could muster. Yzak again looked a bit startled and confused that she'd yelled for help, but he soon remembered that none of the ship's crew would dare try to stop him from doing anything. There were a lot of luxuries that came with a position of power, and the ability to get away with murder was one of them. He laughed, inches from her pretty face.

"No," he whispered, low and beautiful all the same, "I'm not gonna."

Fllay prepared to let a loud crack echo across the hall, and the moment she found one free hand she let it fly – straight for Yzak's face. He had approximately half a second to sigh and roll his eyes, and another half to reach up and catch her hand with deft coordinator agility. This game was getting boring already.

As if on cue, their Commander just so happened to be taking a stroll down that particular hallway. He smiled when he saw Fllay and Yzak, playing together like good children should. Seeing his commander, Yzak immediately stepped back and saluted, straight-backed and stoic like he always did. Fllay frowned and pretended to dust off her skirt. "I hope you two are getting along well," he said, "I have plans for both of you. You may not have time to see each other here in the next few days."

"Sir, if I'm allowed to make a restraint suggestion-"

"He pushed me, Crueset!"

"It would be most appreciative if-"

"-and I told him to leave me alone-"

"She's a whiny natural!"

"-but he just stood there like a dumb coordinator and-"

"-told her she should show some respect-"

Commander Crueset held up one hand and silenced them both. "I want both of you, right now, to go in there and get acquainted enough so that you won't disturb the peace on my ship." He pointed to Fllay's room. "That's an order. Is that clear?"

Yzak wanted to groan and scream at the blonde man for suggesting something so heinous, but he saluted indifferently all the same. "Yes sir."

Fllay on the other hand, looked at him and pouted a bit. Her tactic didn't work either. What the commander said was final, and she had to go back to her room with Yzak whether she liked it or not. They weren't allowed to come out until they were 'acquainted.' Fllay reluctantly went into the room first.

"But Uncle Zak!" Marya whined, interrupting him before he could go on. She was leaning her elbows on his desk, her chin in her palms with her fingers curled around her cheek bones.

"What?"

"I thought she was a coordinator. She's extremely gorgeous, but you keep saying she's a natural…?" She trailed off uncertainly. Marya's idea of beauty was apparently limited to the genetically altered kind.

Yzak sighed and took a look at Fllay's expression in the picture. She was frowning – angry that he was in the photograph with Crueset instead of her, no doubt – but she still looked as radiant and perfect as any girl could be. That was the extent of her beauty. Her natural, unhampered, gift of God, angel-like features that still made his breath hitch in his throat. "That's because she was a natural, Marya. She was born randomly beautiful – one in a thousand. In fact, if you've forgotten already, she hated coordinators and everything they stood for. Now, are you gonna let me finish this, or am I going to have to get back to my paperwork?"

"You can't quit! I'll never know if you two ever got out of that room!" Marya was smiling as she said this.

Yzak laughed, "Well, obviously we did..."

Yzak followed Fllay into the room with even more caution than he had when in battle. This was a battle actually; an extremely dangerous battle, and one that he'd been unprepared for at that.

Surprisingly, her room looked almost identical to his, with a few personal touches here and there that his room lacked. And she had an actual bed to sleep in, not just a bunk. Just one bed, of course. Other than that, her room wasn't all that different from any other room on the ship. Yzak mentally added the fact that she probably had different items in her dresser drawer than his too, and he didn't realize the faint pink that crept onto his pale cheeks.

Fllay leaned back on her bed and stretched, yawning a bit. She really did have pretty red hair...for a natural. Yzak shook his head. He looked at her and said sternly, "Give me a pillow."

Fllay barked a sardonic laugh. "Why?"

"Well, generally people use pillows to sleep on when they get tired."

"And?"

"And what?" Yzak sat down in the floor. He was hoping she wouldn't be this difficult to deal with.

"You haven't said please yet."

"Oh, for God's sake... Would you please give me the freaking pillow?"

This time around Yzak didn't have any time to stop the fluffy white pillow hurdling at him. Fllay hit him head on. As a few feathers landed lightly on Yzak's silver hair, the ZAFT soldier calmly stood up. Fllay was laughing so hard she couldn't sit up; she was lying across the bed with her arm over her eyes, and therefore didn't see the anger subtly boiling under Yzak's surface.

Yzak thought he felt the slight twitch of a sadistic grin as he hit her stomach with the pillow, but other than that his face remained cold and emotionless. Even after being hit back with the pillow, Fllay still couldn't stop laughing. She reached over to grab the other pillow as a defense weapon, but Yzak was too quick for her. He was already on the bed, pummeling her repeatedly.

"All right, all right! Stop it, you idiot – I've got a feather in my mouth!"

"You deserve every hit!"

"Ack! I do not! Asshole—"

Even coordinators get tired. After half an hour of pillow fighting, Yzak collapsed on the bed beside of Fllay, both of them staring at the ceiling and breathing hard as feathers were suspended around the room in zero gravity. Fllay yawned again, ready for a nap, and instinctively snuggled up to Yzak. He pushed away from her as fast as what little gravity there was would allow. "What are you doing?"

Fllay blinked. "I... don't know. Uh, I gave you a pillow."

Yzak's heart hadn't raced so fast in quite some time. It really felt like when he was in battle. Was he actually having fun? Talk about an adrenaline rush… He looked at the pillow in his hand and shrugged. "Whatever." He always feigned indifference.

The room was quiet after that. Yzak stood up to turn off the lights and turn up the gravity, so everything was dark and peaceful. He didn't like sleeping on the floor, but he resumed his position beside the bed anyway. It was better than being a teddy-bear.

Just when the silver-haired boy was about to fall asleep, a small lamp came on. He growled at the light, and at the person who'd made it appear. He'd thought she was asleep too.

Fllay was sitting up in her bed, rubbing her gray eyes with one hand. "Go get me a glass of water from the bathroom," she ordered.

"What the–?" Yzak sat up also, regaining his senses. "No! Go get your own damn water!"

"I'll tell Commander Crueset that you raped me. He'll believe me, you know." A wicked grin spread across her pretty face. "He caught you harassing me earlier, remember?"

Yzak wasn't fazed. This was his game, not hers, the little twat… He really had been asleep!

"And what makes you so sure he won't believe me when I tell him you shot me?"

"Hah, you don't even have a bullet wound!"

Yzak's grin was more of a lazy triumph than a pompous one. He'd done this many other times with Dearka. When he wanted something, he knew exactly how to get it. It was a skill he prized himself on. He casually pulled the small handgun out of his pocket and pointed it to his shoulder. Fllay's eyes grew wide. "Don't think I won't shoot. Tell him one little lie, I dare you. I'll give him a lie right back. I'll say you stole the gun from me and shot me in my sleep because you hate my freaking guts. I'll tell him we were arguing and your little pouty, sore-loser nature got the best of you. I'll tell him whateverI need to, but you won't blackmail me into doing anything, is that understood?"

Fllay looked defeated, and that was enough to satisfy Yzak. He turned over on the floor to face away from the light, his conscience brutally and unforgivingly clean. The light footsteps on the hard floor were of course Fllay's. She must be heading to get that glass of water... Yzak couldn't resist pushing her buttons a little further, so he said in his most condescending voice, "Oh, and when you come back, could you turn that light out? It's kinda hard to sleep with it shining in my face."

A long silence passed after that. Yzak had, again, nearly fallen asleep. The dull hum of the ship was enough to put anyone into a light doze. But then he heard a sniffle come from the bathroom of Fllay's room. Then a sob, another sniff, and then more silence. He didn't know how late it was, but judging by the fact that his eyes felt ten times heavier, Yzak would say it was pretty late.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't totally guiltless. He got up angrily and stalked over to the bathroom door. He knocked once, quietly, but received no answer. Then he knocked again, a bit louder.

A shaky voice full of pain and emotion yelled back at him, "Go away! Just leave me the hell alone and I'll stay out of your hair too!"

"Fllay?" Yzak said. He still had no regard for her feelings or why she was sad, but he was a bit curious as to why she was suddenly crying and yelling. Surely one or two snarky comments couldn't have triggered that…?

"I said, leave. me. ALONE!" She practically screamed the last word.

"Fllay, are you okay?" The curiosity was starting to turn a bit too worried to be just interest.

Silence.

"Is something wrong?" Yes, Yzak was most definitely feeling slightly worried now.

Silence.

With hands shaking slightly, the silver-haired soldier pulled out his gun again and shot three holes into the keypad on the door. Fllay screamed, but he ignored that. He wasted no time in kicking it until it slid open. He stood stunned in the doorway at the sight before him.

"Ahem," Yzak cleared his throat, "I don't think your father would appreciate me telling you the rest of this, Marya. I think I'll save it for when you're older…"

"NOOO!" Marya jumped up from the chair. "I'm sixteen, Uncle Zak! Besides, you absolutely have tell me the rest after such an awful cliff-hanger! You're acting like my favorite fanfic author when she gets bored with her favorite pairing."

Yzak stared at her blankly. "I'm not even gonna ask…"

"Seriously, what happened? Why were you startled? Was Fllay okay? What did you see!?"

"No, I'm stopping right there. The story gets a bit graphic later, and I don't want that kind of imagery dancing around your young, innocent mind."

Athrun's daughter narrowed her eyes at her tenacious uncle. "Innocent?" she scoffed, "At sixteen? God, did you even have a life when you were my age?"

He sighed. "Of course I did. The end of this story says that quite clearly."

"Then why can't I hear it?" Marya asked, sealing her victory. If the story involved Yzak doing things he shouldn't have at the age Marya was now, then he had no reason not to tell her. Hell, she could even learn from it if he'd just spit it out.

"All right, all right. Calm down, I'll tell you the rest. But if you ever mention any of this to your father, or anyone else, I'll personally hunt you down and kill you."

Marya's eyes widened, but she said quickly, "Okay, jeez, I won't tell anyone. Why's it such a big secret?"

Yzak gazed at the picture again. Fllay's expression didn't seem so angry now that he'd looked twice. She really looked rather poignant. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

Marya nodded, biting her lips affirmatively.

It didn't take Yzak ten seconds to realize what was going on.

Fllay's green uniform shirt was soaking in the sink beneath soapy, red water. There was blood splattered across the floor, leading to the small shaking form of Fllay herself, shirtless and huddled in a corner with a small razor blade clutched tightly between her hands. Her arms were completely smothered with red and her eyes were shut tight. Her red hair was matted and fell across her shoulders in beautiful contrast to the horrendous scene. Yzak thought the scenario looked like something from a movie rather than actually playing out in front of him. Had it not been real, he would've admired the depth of whatever film it came from. But it was real, and Fllay was in grave danger.

When he regained a bit of his composure, he took two steps toward Fllay, but stopped when she screamed again. "Go away..." She whispered breathlessly, "Please, don't hurt me..." She looked so helpless and frightened, to the point that she was horrified, mortified, unstable.

Yzak closed his open mouth and gulped. Surely she'd not taken anything he'd said too personally or too seriously? He realized now that shooting a gun while Fllay was in that condition didn't exactly help her to think of him as a friendly person. Of course, that was the idea, right? Yzak hadn't wanted her to like him. He'd done everything possible to make her hate him, because he'd thought he didn't like her, and now – when he needed her to trust him more than anything – she probably thought he was trying to kill her.

The silver-haired pilot closed his eyes and clenched his fist in anger. Not toward Fllay, but aimed at himself for being such a... What was it? An inconsiderate jerk. "I'm sorry..." he whispered, gritting his teeth so he wouldn't cry in front of her. So many foreign emotions at once… He'd never hated himself so much. "I'm sorry, Fllay."

Fllay finally looked up. Her smudged mascara and bloody, sky-blue bra made the situation look that much more surreal. Was he dreaming? Was all this just one of his twisted nightmares, formed from a mind scarred with the deeds of men at war? The red-head dropped the razor. It seemed to fall to the floor in slow-motion, making the tiniest sound when it hit seem like a tinkling, glass explosion. The blood around her ankles was darker than her hair. Neither teen moved for a moment. Surreal…

Yzak was the first to grasp reality again. He opened several drawers, searching for bandages. He didn't find any. "Christ, woman; don't you have a freaking medical kit in here?" Yzak jerked Fllay up rather roughly and turned on the shower, ignoring the panic he felt when she loosely let herself be guided. He placed her wrists under the warm water, and hoped that she didn't try to smack him again. She looked dazed. Smacking him was one of the last things on Fllay's mind.

He surprised himself when he found that he liked the way her skin felt beneath his fingers. It was soft, like an infant's, and nearly as pale as his own. Fllay still looked distant, like she hadn't quite understood everything that just happened. Eventually she would get it, and then a hurricane like no other would probably break loose—but for now, Yzak was glad she was in a comatose state of mind. She was easier to help that way.

He rummaged through the drawers again and found an extra white bed sheet. That would have to make strong enough bandages for the time being. Yzak ripped it up and wrapped the strips around Fllay's tiny wrists, tying them whenever he thought there was enough to stop the bleeding. He stood her up straight, ignoring the fact that she was shirtless, and patted her shoulders in the formal way soldiers used. He coughed lightly and said, "There now. Uh, you're doing just fine, I think. The cuts weren't that deep, but – uh, I guess you should go lay down. Yeah, that would be-"

Without warning, Fllay fell into Yzak. She didn't faint though because she was hugging him tightly and very close. Yzak blushed and patted her head lightly, murmuring into her ear that everything was okay. He picked her up and carried her back to bed, where they both lay down side by side facing each other. Yzak watched as Fllay blinked and slowly became aware of where she was and how she got there. "You okay, now?" he asked, his voice hoarse from worry. She nodded hesitantly.

"I think so... W-what—? Did I-?... You..?"

"Sssh, stupid, crazy natural," Yzak laughed, hoping she caught the jovial tone in his voice. He'd never spoken like that before in his life – not even to Dearka. "I have no idea why you wanted to try something as idiotic as killing yourself – the hard way, might I add – but I want you to promise me you'll never do it again, all right?"

Fllay nodded. "Okay..."

"Believe me when I say I would never hurt you like that. Never, Fllay. I'm not that type of soldier… I didn't mean to…when I said—"

Fllay nodded again, blinking a lot. "I know."

After another long period of unwanted silence, Yzak said, "Um, so what now?" which wasn't quite the real question on both their minds…

Fllay squirmed closer to him and shrugged. "I dunno..." She looked so hot, lying there…all bloody and cute and scared and calm and crazy – feelings and visuals mixed in together to make her expression one big, haphazard emotion. Yzak wasn't one to get turned on very easily. Things had to be perfect, in tune with himself. And right at that moment – when Fllay looked up at his blue eyes with her sad, lost, crazy gray ones – everything was damn well perfect. He could feel the heat from her body mixing with his. He grabbed Fllay suddenly by her shoulders, startling her only a little bit, and kissed her long and hard on the mouth. Fllay sighed with delight against him and put her hands on his——

"Marya, I'm stopping the story right here until you're at least eighteen."

"Wha-! But why?" Marya's blue-green eyes had been permanently wide throughout the entire last half of Yzak's story, and he was already worried he'd been mentally scarring his friend's daughter for life. She was a teenager, though. They had that whole "angst" thing going on, so she was probably right in the middle of feeling what he and Fllay had felt so many years ago. It was likely that she understood him perfectly.

"Because I feel that this next part is irrelevant. You already know who Fllay was now."

"Yeah, she was your girlfriend," Marya smirked (too much like Yzak for him to feel comfortable about it). "Yzak," she whispered, "did you and Fllay..." She had to stifle a giggle. "Um, do it?"

Yzak cocked an eyebrow and stared right at Marya. "Whatever are you talking about, dearest niece?" So she knew about a few things that Mr. Athrun thought she was oblivious to. Marya giggled so hard she couldn't answer Yzak. "How badly do you want to hear the rest of this?" he asked.

"I'd do anything," she replied once she regained her breath. "Seriously. I would have never guessed you could be so romantic…well, you were being a jerk before, but then you made up for it by rescuing Fllay and sweeping her up in your arms to carry her away on your white steed, off into the sunset—"

Yzak laughed and said, "God, don't ruin it Marya. You said you'd seriously do anything… My question is what would you do?"

Marya tapped her lips with her index finger thoughtfully. "Well, for starters I could get Daddy not to dump me off on you next month…"

"Where was I?"

Fllay sighed with delight and put her hands on Yzak's uniform, fumbling with the buttons. A certain and specific thought crossed her mind, and once she started thinking about it, she couldn't seem to make it go away. She even mumbled aloud, "No, he's so different from Kira..." Yzak was engrossed in Fllay's scent and body heat, so he completely ignored the precise words she spoke. He unlatched her blood-stained bra and tossed it carelessly to the floor as Fllay did the same with his pants. She was giggling with a minx grin on her face. The small, barely noticeable dimples in her cheeks were infatuating. "SO much different than Kira!" she explained, laughing while they simultaneously groped one another.

"Hey, Fllay?" Yzak asked, lazily pulling her closer to him.

"Mmm, yeah?" She breathed deeply, tracing random patterns on Yzak's pale chest.

"I hardly know you, and I know that what just happened must've been…well, it wasn't a very pleasant experience, and… God, I'm sure I'm going way too fast with this, but I wanted you to know that—"

Fllay put her finger on Yzak's lips and smiled, this time broad and wickedly. The look sent waves of bliss straight to Yzak's groin. "It's all right, coordinator. I don't mind, really. I don't know you either, but I can tell by now that you're one mean-ass, hardcore, son of a bitch – and before now, I would have never guessed that I'd like that." She paused, thinking for a second. "And…now I know." She kissed him softly before adding, "And don't worry about hurting me. This is nothing new, I promise."

Yzak raised his eyebrows and laughed. Fllay thought it looked cute. "Seriously?" he asked. He probably should've known a girl with antics like hers couldn't possibly be a virgin.

She pushed Yzak over and wrapped herself around him, whispering seductively into his ear, "Seriously. I said it was okay, didn't I…? Please, pretty coordinator… Don't make me wait."

Yzak kissed her one more time before delightedly taking her open invitation.

He'd never met anyone like Fllay Allster. She was amazing in bed, as he'd expected she would be – like every male's fantasy porn star, doing everything perfect with a hot body to boot. And perfect was the way Yzak liked things. He felt perfect then – he felt complete. He was safe and happy and loved with Fllay molding her body into his. Sex was something Yzak had never really had the chance to enjoy. The other girls he'd bedded had all been…uncharacteristic. However, he quite enjoyed sex with Fllay; he enjoyed every breathless second of it.

He didn't want morning to come. He wanted to memorize the way every one of Fllay's red hairs fanned out around her face and the pillow, and he wanted to permanently sketch her blushing, erotic expression into his brain. He wanted the curve of her collar bone, the shape of her lips, the shade of her eyes, and the warmth of her smile – he wanted nothing more than stay with her in a brilliant, heated blaze of passion, forever.

Perfection is a cruel word that should not exist; perfection lied to him that night.

Morning came anyway, and Yzak had to leave Fllay alone in her room. He had to leave her alone more times than he meant to as the days flew by. But he had battles to win, and she had to pick up odd jobs on the ship and do whatever it was Crueset had kept her around for. It seemed like things just went back to the way they were before, like they'd never met.

When the time came for Fllay to go, Yzak was either too busy or too blind to see it, and he didn't even get to say goodbye. His experience with Fllay seemed more and more like an action upon impulse every time he thought about it, especially after she was gone.

But it wasn't – he knew there was something more there. He would talk to her after the war. When everything was over with, he would find her and show her what true love was like all over again. Hell, he'd win the fucking war himself if he had to, if only to win her. He wanted so badly to grasp that future, to know that he could love someone from the bottom of his heart like everyone else.

He never got that chance.

"But he kept the memory of the beautiful red haired girl who was every bit as wild and crazy as her hair color suggested. He wanted to remember her because she'd been an important part of his life. A very important part – and I will always remember her in that sense."

Marya stood up, gaping at Yzak with unbelieving eyes and her mouth dangling open. "What kind of bullshit ending is that?!" she announced incredulously. "What happened to Fllay?"

Yzak didn't answer her. After recounting that painful time, he just wasn't in the mood for anymore sarcastic jeering. The prince in the stories wasn't supposed to end up single and stuck in a lonely military office. He stared at Marya for the longest time, wise – with a hard, serious look in his eyes that spoke more of real life than fairytale fantasies. He said not a word aloud, but Marya suddenly understood, and she felt chills creep up and down her arms causing her to shudder involuntarily. "She was killed, wasn't she?" she whispered, staring back at her amazing uncle. "In the war, before it was even over…"

Yzak nodded, a solem acceptance now dominating his expression. Marya continued to stare at him, but with tears brimming in her eyes. "Do you regret her?"

"Never," Yzak replied softly.

Marya gave him a happy-sad smile. "Good. 'C-cause if you didn't, then you'd s-still be an asshole…"

Great, now she's all emotional because of me, Yzak thought. Athrun's supposed to be here in half an hour; how am I supposed to explain this? "Marya, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you about Fllay. I honestly didn't mean to upset you." Yzak stood up and walked over to her, letting the picture fall down on top of his paperwork of the somewhat organized desk. The teenager took one last good, long look at the beautiful red-haired natural girl in the picture with her uncle.

"But I'm glad you told me. Now I know…" she paused, "a lot more about you." The memory Yzak had just shared with her hadn't been at all what she'd expected, but it contained every bit of drama she'd thought it would. If the emotional bonding got any gooier, next thing you know they'd be going shopping together.

"Spare me your adorableness…" Yzak grumbled. "And clean up your eyeliner a bit, too. Your father will arrive soon. No explanations, remember?"

"'Kay. Gotcha." Marya stood up quickly, wiping her eyes with one hand and slipping the photo she just grabbed with the other subtly into her back jean pocket. "Uncle Zak?"

Yzak sighed the longest sigh of his life. "What now?"

Marya showed him a familiar smirk. "Do you think I'd make a pretty red-head?" She hopped up to leave hoping to God that her uncle either didn't see her steal the picture, or knew why she wanted it and was going to let her get away with it.

Yzak laughed. Of course he'd seen her take it. (And of course he'd let her keep it.)

"Ask your mother that when she gets here. I want to see the look on her face."

Fin