Aurora Borealis
Fields of Hope
It's very simple, suddenly.
They hand him a thin vanilla folder, assuring him just a tad impatiently that, yes, it does contain everything he will need, and if he has any questions he's welcome to stop by again or contact them by phone or mail, and yes, the number and address are in there too.
The war is over.
In the new-old world that is peace Sai has been let go, has been told that the restrictions previously placed on his activities are lifted – he's so free that it's almost frightening. There's no more duty, no more death.
It's over.
Life is ready to begin again.
And maybe it will never be quite as thrilling as it was, maybe the sun will never again shine so brightly or so gloriously as it did after you'd just escaped death, maybe you'll never feel your blood spill over with adrenaline ever again.
And perhaps the fear will cling, and the regret and grief, perhaps your hands will always feel sticky and crusty with blood from handling the controls aboard a warship, perhaps you'll always be obsessed with having control because you know oh so well what it feels like to lose it.
And maybe you've been a prisoner for months now and grown kind of used to that and now suddenly you're free to see the earth lying in ruins.
….Or maybe that's just silly. Truth, certainly, but not the only truth and not the one he wants to focus on right now.
The image of the slain Ensign Badguriel will be with him always, accompanied by scenarios of battle and death in space, of crying, hungry, lonely children trapped as hopelessly as was he in the war that had come to claim and ruin their home and their lives. He can't go back. Forward is still possible, though, painful and promising and possible.
Sai hasn't ever been unrealistic in his hopes, but neither has he ever been one to back down from a challenge. He'll pick up the pieces, and he'll fucking glue them back together if need be, and things will be okay.
With all the horror in between it's tempting to paint out his pre-war life in shades of perfect, but he knows that's just a trick he plays on himself. Life isn't idyllic, it never was, it never will be, and he doesn't need it to be. 'Okay' will do just fine.
When they first arrived in PLANT, after the tense waiting on the Archangel following Kira's disappearance, he didn't know what to expect. None of them did, not even the officers. To his relief, it almost vexed him, actually, because it was so anticlimactic it just wasn't believable, he was treated like a child. For the very first time since war had come to Heliopolis he was not a solider, not a young man, not a bright student who should deal with things, take responsibility. Instead he was regarded as only a kid, a poor stupid natural boy who could do no better.
The actual EA personal, what little there was of it after the catastrophe outside his former home and them standing in the front row when Athrun attacked, was kept in more prison-like surroundings; now they're being exchanged. The civilians were sent home as fast as Orb had been contacted and a route set up.
Sai and the others who weren't properly guilty nor properly innocent were placed in normal, trusted Coordinator families under firm but not harsh restrictions.
Save the strict rules and the fact that everything here is made for superior people, that he couldn't drive their car until they'd had him long enough to trust him and think it worth the cost to fix it so he could pick the younger kids up at their day-care center, it was absurdly much like being a regular exchange-student.
Tolle and Miriallia were treated similarly well and they're still around, but if he had to choose then Sai would be forced to say that the one he considers his best friend is the eldest son of the family he stayed with. Still sort of stays with, actually – his not-really-sibling is going to college next fall, and chose one open to both Coordinators and naturals so they'll be able to share a room.
My life is like coffee, he thinks suddenly and absurdly. Bitter and black but makes you feel better.
Orb's destroyed, doesn't even really exist anymore.
Fllay's dead.
She was never able to fit in, not on the Archangel, not after. Because of her heritage she was treated differently, but apparently she wasn't much use in the political games for they sent her to a family fairly shortly, but she couldn't cope. The counseling didn't help.
She's dead and Sai's sad but not overly so. He loved her, he did, but he somewhat hated himself for that. It made him feel so inadequate and pathetic and shallow.
Kira and Athrun figure in the papers quite often. "We were in the war," he has heard them say. "We did our part there, so it's only fair that we help rebuild, become part of the peace now."
They are quite important now, war heroes the both of them, highly competent, and Athrun's inherited a veritable fortune. Sai hasn't been to see them, hasn't called or tried to find any means to contact the brunette boy that was once his friend but whom he now only watches every now and then on the news.
A few weeks ago the papers had two other young men on the front pages who spent the war in red suits. These two were featured because of the scandal-value; everyone knows Kira and Athrun are a couple, but they haven't ever been photographed making out that heavily. The one Sai recognizes as Councilwoman Juhle's son has arms and legs wrapped around the one Miriallia identified as Dearka Elthman. They look happy.
The blond actually waved at Miriallia once when they passed each other. Sai isn't sure what to think about that, if he is required to have an opinion at all.
Over everything is Lacus Clyne. Her picture is on every wall, her voice lies like a fairy-mist in the air. She's beautiful and kind and growing more special than she was on the Archangel.
There's been speculation that she'll marry the new rising star in politics, that man called Dullindal, but Sai's seen how she and the green-haired youth who plays piano while she sings look at each other and quietly doubts that the marriage will ever come about.
One evening, just a day before he and his friend will leave for college, Sai catches sight of a familiar back in the park.
He could call a greeting, he could wave, he could walk over.
He turns quietly and walks away.
xxxxx