Surrender
The problem, as the Gundam Pilots learned, was the metal detectors.
Things like jewelry and fillings didn't register, but larger things like knives and swords and ammunition and guns…well…
"Now kid, there's no need for-" The principal pleaded with Heero, as the teen held him at gunpoint.
"You're not taking my guns" Heero said flatly as the principal sweated and held up his hands.
"Precious…my precious…nasty man won't hurt you…" Duo murmured dreamily. He was cradling a smaller, wood-and-metal version of his former scythe, having grabbed the blade portion back from a security guard, and assembled the staff immediately. It wasn't complete, there was still about a foot and a half missing from the bottom, because the same security guard had grabbed the last piece form the duffel bag and had tried to instigate a game of keep-away.
"There're ceremonial" Quatre was holding one of his curved swords, but a counselor refused to hand over the other one. Behind them, Trowa leaned against the opposite wall, unconcerned, as all that had been found in his duffel bag was disassembled metal parts. No, he would only become concerned when and if the adults realized that those parts were all machine gun attachments, and that his own fire arm was safely in the small of his back.
Like Trowa, Wufei made no move, but he watched silently as another one of campus security rifled through his bag. He knew that the only reason the metal detectors had gone off on his bag was because he had packed his brass knuckles in there, but still, these "authority" types were way overreacting!
"W-weapons of any kind are not allowed on campus." The principal stammered.
"That's bullcrap." Heero insisted. "What if something happened?"
"What if you're attacked where you sleep?" Duo shot in.
"No one's going to attack you" a female counselor in one corner tried to talk them down. "The war is over. You don't have to fight anyone." She found herself under five searching gazes. Then Heero let his hand fall to his side, and stepped back. Duo and Quatre also retreated to the wall claimed by Trowa and Wufei. The adults were left scratching their heads in bewilderment as the five enacted a football-esque huddle, and snippets of conversation floated over.
After much discussion, the boys were all leaning against the wall like finely dressed gangsters, and Heero, as their spokesperson, said "What do you propose we do instead with our weapons?"
"Get rid of them!"
"Unacceptable!" Duo roared, brandishing his sickle.
"We'd be almost totally helpless." Said Trowa.
"Against what?" the same woman found her voice again. "Who or what are you so afraid of?"
"Ghosts"
"Boogiemen"
"Pixies"
"Demons"
"Other students?"
This uncoordinated answer left the boys eyeing each other, as if to say 'you're afraid of what now?' Seeing weakness, the principal cleared his throat and said, "Further more, it is the law that no lethal weapons may be carried on public property."
The boys shared a look. It was that damnable Law again.
"And," the principal continued, "if you do not disarm yourselves and submit to searching, you shall all be placed under arrest."
The reaction was almost instant, though not at all what any of the adults had expected. Duo and Quatra tossed their blades to the floor between them and the adults, and Heero's gun joined them as soon as he had turned on the safety. The three then joined Wufei and Trowa in digging through their clothes. The adults started when Trowa pulled out his gun, but settled down when it joined the pile. They were further dismayed as the boys pulled out even more weapons. Heero had two guns hidden on his person, as well as a lighter that made a suspiciously heavy clunk as it hit the ground. Trowa was almost cocooned in small arms, and his switch blade was also thrown down. Duo and Wufei both surrendered heavy-looking rings that could be smashed into people's faces, as well as the necklaces around their necks, the daggers in their boots, and the small swords they had strapped to their backs under their jackets. Quatre's contribution to the pile was the largest, as well as the most ominous, as he revealed pack after pack from hidden pockets on his body. One or two of them popped open when they hit the floor, and showed cargos of things like wicked looking spikes and bottles of several un-identified liquids.
Disarmed, and feeling rather naked, despite their uniforms still being in place, if a little rumpled, the boys as one reached up and put their hands on their heads, and dropped suddenly down to their knees, as if their puppet strings had been cut. Standard surrender procedures.
The principal and his cronies stared.
When the Gundam Pilots had arrived, they had done so with a and average of three suitcases each. When they left that office, all any of them had was a not quite full small gym bag apiece. The authorities had confiscated firearms, knives, poisons, manuals on how to make explosives, bomb parts, locked boxes that they were warned not to open, and files, both on paper and on disk, that were so heavily encoded that they just screamed 'unsafe'. Heero and Quatre were to await news on their laptops, and they had been ordered to give up all access codes and passwords.
The five tromped sullenly behind a student guide, who was to lead them to their dorms. The boy chattered brainlessly, and they tuned him out in favor of their own thoughts. What had happened back there? All five had fought and bled for this idea of total pacifism, but now, in the face of living under it, they found themselves smothered. When they were living on their own, they had all been able to hide the tools they deemed necessary under the guise of personal possessions, but in this more controlled environment, they were forced to try and forget the lessons of self defense that had been fed to them for so long. Now all they had left were clothes. Almost, anyway.
"Uh-oh" Duo whispered so the guide wouldn't hear. "I forgot to hand in my bottle of chloroform."
Wake up before dawn.
You're getting soft if you think you need more sleep than this…
Dress simply.
These #$& uniforms are useless…
Exercise. Train. Climb out of the window and go running.
Faster! Faster! Don't complain about the weather or the extra gravity…
Shimmy up the drain pipe at the crack of dawn, climb back in and hit the showers.
Boy, do you stink…
Dress in #$& uniform.
Itchy, constricting, non-camouflaged, unprotective, #$& uniform!
"What are we supposed to do now?" Duo wanted to know. Every one looked up and down the hallways. The only people up and about (besides themselves) were the adults patrolling the halls. Most of the rooms were silent behind their locked doors, with only a few exceptions.
A yawn behind them called their attention. The guide from last night was there, in boxers and a white tee-shirt. He muttered about roommates who were inconsiderate and made too much noise, and then he stumbled back to his room.
"Like he can say anything" said Wufei. "He snored all night long." The student dorms were two to a room, and Wufei was the unlucky odd man out who had to share with a civilian. Said civilian was now shuffling to the bathroom with a towel over his shoulder. Unaware he was being scrutinized, he made no effort to his flabby, plump body, weak pale limbs, half-blind eyes…
'bump' 'thump' 'OW'
…and slow reflexes.
The student clambered to his feet, and paused. He found all five celebrities staring at him, and he blushed in embarrassment at having them see him trip. He hurried on to his shower.
In an unspoken move, Wufei led them down the halls in search of breakfast. After getting directions from hall monitor who was skeptical about so many up at this hour, he led them directly to the land of full bellies and contentness. The cooks were far from ready to start serving the planned meal to any sort of crowd, but they fed the boys hot oatmeal anyway. They our heroes were once again faced with the question of 'what next?".
No one seemed in the mood for chatting, or moving, so they lounged there with the ponderings in their heads and watched the students waltz in. The dining hall was a glorified cafeteria, with rounded tables and chairs instead of long tables and benches. For now, at least, they were content to bogart the table in the far corner form the door, with the sixth and seventh chairs removed so as not to encourage any unwanted company. This tactic of self exclusion looked increasingly useless, as from this distance they could lip-read the conversations of people who were considering whether to pull up a chair and introduce themselves.
"Any idea what's planned for today?" Heero turned to Quatre for answers.
"We're supposed to get our schedules soon. We won't know for sure until then."
No one could think of anything else to say, and the group once more lapsed into boredom.