English is not my first language. Please bear with grammatical errors.

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD.

Season of Farewell

Chapter 18: The Answer II

Athrun had never really believed in gods. The only time he had earnestly prayed to God and stars, and anything that would listen to him, was when his mother had been dying, and his prayer had been unanswered. The Haumea's amulet was important to him because it represented Cagalli's concern and love for him, not because it had a special connection to a goddess.

Every time he looked at the stone, he thought about Cagalli, not Haumea, and this time wasn't an exception. In his head, he saw her faces full of concern for him. Some of them were even angry, like the one she had had when she yelled at him in his hospital room about a week before she gave him the red stone.

For some reason, he wondered whether his instincts might have been right after all. Perhaps, she had rejected his love in a way at that time without realizing it. Maybe she had rejected the way he loved her, the way he treated her, and himself, in the name of love.

He had taken his own safety rather lightly, not putting as much effort into protecting himself as into protecting her, not trying hard to keep both of them safe. Also, he had kind of brushed off her concern for his injuries, and her wish not to become the reason why he got injured, not taking them seriously. And she had objected to that attitude of his.

The past several months flashed through his mind. What he had said and done. What she had said and done.

As his mind returned to today, the text from Meyrin and what it had triggered in him, he let out a very long sigh, emptying his lungs. He couldn't believe how he had been able to be so utterly stupid. Now that he thought about it, he shouldn't have been surprised that Cagalli had rejected his offer to go to Tassil with her. Of course she did. That was the Cagalli he knew, the Cagalli he loved.

He felt like his eyes had been—finally—opened.

For nearly half a year, he had not been seeing Cagalli. Not really. All he had seen was himself, his own feelings and desires, even after realizing his ignorance of her feelings in the end of December. He had just shifted to dwelling on his feelings of guilt and his desire to redeem himself without thinking about what she wanted, what made her happy.

That was why he had made such a foolish mistake. He had believed he offered to go to Tassil for her. But in actuality, he had made the offer for his own sake, so that he could get rid of, or at least lessen, the feelings of guilt, so that he could believe he was a good person, a good boyfriend who made sacrifices for his girlfriend. His desire to be different from his father had influenced the decision as well. And perhaps, his rebellious desire to irk his father by choosing a college that didn't meet his father's standards, which stemmed from the bitterness toward his father.

It wasn't what he really had to do. He had to think about what Cagalli wanted if he truly wanted to do something for her. And in order to give her what she wanted, he had to think about what he wanted as well. Because she wouldn't want him to abandon his own dream, his own happiness. She wanted him to fulfil his dream and be happy. He couldn't make her happy if he neglected trying to make himself happy. If he still insisted on going to Tassil, it should be because the decision would lead to his happiness, not because he valued being with her or around her more than his happiness.

Closing his eyes again, he knitted his eyebrows in concentration. With as much effort as he could manage, he pictured his life in Tassil University, only to realize that he had not sincerely tried it before, even when he was sure his going to Tassil University was the solution to his and Cagalli's problem.

Maybe he had been hoping, deep down, that she would be touched by his offer so greatly that she gave up going to Tassil so that he wouldn't have to give up his dream. Maybe that was why he had abandoned the idea of going to Tassil University so easily after her rejection, without even trying to convince her.

After all, he would have made more effort, tried harder to change her mind, if he had really wanted her to accept the offer, wouldn't he? And if he was completely honest with himself, there had been a part, a not-so-small part, of him that was actually relieved at her rejection, relieved that he seemed able to go to Februarius Medical University, even when he was telling himself that he was willing to give up that dream if Cagalli let him.

At the very least, he had not exactly treated his decision seriously, not properly considering its impact on his life and future. He more or less had tried to carelessly throw away his life just so that he could run away from the distressing feelings, whether it was guilt or anger or fear.

No wonder Cagalli had become so upset at his offer. She wouldn't accept his treating himself—his body, his dream, his life—like that, like they didn't matter, like he didn't matter. She would stand up against him even though she didn't want to fight against him. He had known it, but not really understood it, understood her.

He sighed at himself before pushing away the feeling of shame. This wasn't the time for self-loathing. He had done it enough by now, and he had something more important to do, something far more important to think about.

And he had to think, really think, instead of just circling around negative thoughts and emotions as he had been doing for way too long.

He returned to the imaginary life in Tassil University, and examined every aspect of it, considering every possibility. Then, he asked himself whether he could go to Tassil while protecting his happiness.

The result was just as expected. No, he couldn't move to Tassil only to be around Cagalli. He couldn't be happy just because he had her around. He wanted more. He needed more. He needed his dream that was going to the best college and learning under the best teachers.

There was a possibility that he was going to find a goal he could pursue with passion in Tassil University. But even then, he wouldn't be able to stop comparing his current life in Tassil University to the life he could have had in Februarius Medical University. A part of him would probably always keep wondering and regretting not going for it, resenting himself for giving up such a great future and resenting Cagalli for causing him to make the choice.

Not to mention he would feel embarrassed, even ashamed, every time he explained why he had chosen Tassil University. The successful escape from guilt and the satisfaction of becoming a good boyfriend unlike his father might make it easier for him to live like that, but they wouldn't make him happy.

It wouldn't be like that if Tassil University was the best medical college he could get into, due to either money or his grades. Then, he would be more than happy to go there.

This was different, however. He would have to deliberately give up his dream, his ambition, even though it was within his reach. Some people—some guys might be able to do it. But he couldn't. Not like this. Not to just follow his girlfriend around. It wasn't the kind of guy he was. It wasn't the kind of man he wanted to be. He couldn't give it up, change himself that much. Not yet, anyway.

It might be petty of him. It might make him a failure as a boyfriend. At least, it wouldn't be how an ideal boyfriend was, he supposed.

However, this was who he was, and he probably had to accept that.

"Why can't you guys have both your dreams and a future together? No one's making you choose." Kira's voice came to his mind.

That was true. He was the one who had been creating the choice, making Cagalli or himself choose between their dream and love. He just had not wanted to see it, see that he was the one responsible for his situation.

But just because it was tough, requiring them a lot of effort, it didn't mean it was impossible. Even if many people said it wouldn't work out, even if it was true for many couples, it didn't mean it was true for him and Cagalli. It was possible that they could have both their dreams and their romantic relationship. He could have both Cagalli and his dream. He could be with her while being himself.

She knew how he was, knew that he wasn't, and probably couldn't be, an ideal boyfriend. She still loved him. It didn't matter that she had not been wearing his ring, or that she didn't do what he wanted her to do. It didn't matter that she wouldn't try to hold onto him with desperation, promising to do anything if he stayed with her including throwing away everything else.

Some people might say acting that way was the proof of love, even the only proof. He might agree; a part of him wanted it, at least. That was part of the reason he had had such a hard time understanding why she rejected his offer to go to Tassil. Because he would be happy if she made a similar offer, he had assumed that she would feel the same, that she had to feel the same even.

However, it wasn't her kind of love. It wasn't how she loved. Her love was cherishing each other not because of what the other gave them, what the other did for them, but because of who the other was. Her love was giving gifts and becoming happy instead of giving sacrifices and becoming unhappy, empty or miserable or resentful or all at once. Her love was wishing for each other's happiness not because they were in a romantic relationship, but because they loved the other no matter what. Her love was freely choosing to stay together instead of putting each other on a chain.

It was the love she wanted to have with him.

Now, he understood. Now, there was no doubt in him about her feelings. She loved him for who he was. And she had said she still wanted to be with him. All she asked of him was be himself, let her be herself, and fight together with her for their relationship.

The question was, Did he want it? Was he willing to make the necessary effort?

"What's the point of having a relationship if you can't get what you want from it?" This time, it was Yzak's voice that echoed in his head.

What Yzak had said made sense. That was why it had shaken Athrun, and he could still see the reason in the words. Why did he want to keep his romantic relationship with Cagalli if he couldn't get what he wanted?

But now, he knew the question he had to ask himself before asking that one: What did he want to begin with?

He wanted Cagalli to be with him, to be around him. He wanted her to love him enough to put him first, enough to sacrifice everything else for him. However, he couldn't have it. Because this wasn't the matter of how much she loved him. Now he saw it. She had not chosen to go to Tassil because she didn't love him enough to want to stay around him. She had made the decision because it was how she was, who she was.

It didn't matter that some girls, or many girls even, might be all right with giving up their dream for their romantic relationship. Because Cagalli wasn't just any girl. She was different from any other girl, different from any other person. She was just herself—one and only existence in this universe just like everyone else was—and what was important was how she was, not how girls, who just happened to share gender with her, were or how girls should be.

And he knew the kind of person she was. Like he couldn't choose to go to Tassil with her while pursuing his happiness, she couldn't choose to stay around him while pursuing her happiness. It was the kind of person they were. Like he didn't wish to become a doctor or go to Februarius Medical University because he was a guy, she didn't wish to become a veterinarian or go to Tassil University because she was a girl. They were just being who they were. They were just the same, regardless of the fact that he was a guy and she was a girl.

He had not really understood that even after Kira and Lacus had made him realize he had been seeing Cagalli's dream as less important than his.

Before her decision to go to Tassil, he had genuinely supported her dream. But he had done so on the condition that she would stay where he wanted her to be, that her following her dream wouldn't interfere with his future plan. He had just been completely ignorant of what he himself was doing, and naturally, she had also been unaware of it. But he had been trying to limit her options, trying to push her into the confines of his expectations.

And that was the major reason why her choice to go to Tassil University had disturbed him so much. Because it was a symbol of the facts that he couldn't control her, that she wasn't the kind of person who obediently followed his directions. That she could and would do something he didn't want her to, like leaving him, if she wanted.

That was what he had been having a problem with: her being her own person, being herself. That was what he had not been able to accept: her freely living her own life, making her own decisions. Partly because he didn't know how to be with someone like that. Partly because it wasn't how he thought—how he had been taught a girl should be.

He was so used to control. He had spent his entire life under his father's control, hardly deviating from his father's expectations, never clearly defying his father. And his mother had appeared to have a similar relationship with his father, always demurely accepting his father's domineering way; when she disagreed with him, she had gently and respectfully suggested another option, the option she preferred or thought was better, and roundaboutly steered Patrick in that direction instead of protesting in an outright way that challenged her husband's authority—a way Cagalli would surely choose if she were in Lenore's position.

That kind of relationship, simple and traditional with no conflicts on the surface, was the normal and the ideal in Athrun's world.

Although he knew its existence, he didn't really know a relationship where two people stayed together even though they weren't bound to each other by a chain, even though one wasn't controlled by the other. He didn't really know how to trust someone he loved not to leave him when they weren't chained to him, when he wasn't restraining them so that they couldn't leave.

That was why the realization that he didn't have Cagalli under his control had made him feel quite insecure, so much so that he considered tying her to him with a baby. Although the idea had been too disgusting for him to put into action, he had still tried to make her change her mind about going to Tassil.

But it had not really been about her college choice. It had been more about his desire to feel secure.

He didn't want her to be around him so much as wanted her to obey him, to become a girl who would obey her boyfriend. He had tried to change her so that she would fit into his expectations because then, their relationship would be familiar and he could feel safe. Kira had been right. Athrun had been trying to put Cagalli in a lower position than his, not seeing her or treating her as his equal.

And he had been still trying to control her when he made the offer to go to Tassil. He had used the offer as a tool to gain her forgiveness, to control her to give him what he wanted.

He was no longer sure how serious he had been about his offer to begin with. But even if he had been genuinely willing to follow through with it, it was probably because it had been another attempt to put her on a chain. He had not consciously done it, but he might have been trying to use his sacrifice as a tool to bind her to him. The bigger sacrifice he made, the more grateful or guilty she would feel. And it would be difficult for her to leave someone who had sacrificed his brilliant future for her even if she felt like ending her relationship with him someday.

He would have succeeded in tying her down whether she accepted his offer or she gave up her dream to stop him from sacrificing his. It had been such an insincere offer, entirely made to benefit himself but disguised as one for her.

He didn't know whether she had been aware that if she approved of his offer, he could have some control over her in one way or another. Probably not. At least during that conversation, she had seemed focused solely on the fact that it was different from what he wanted, that it was going to make him unhappy. Still, unconsciously, she had protected her freedom as well.

Then, he had become angry, not just because of her proposal to break up, but also because her reaction had been different from what he had expected, because she again differed from his expectations, choosing not to go along with his plan once more. Because she defied him even when he was offering such a huge sacrifice.

At that point, his way of thinking, and acting, had not changed much from before.

He had still mistakenly believed that the sacrifice he was making was for her when it was actually for himself. Instead of trying to make her make a sacrifice, he had tried to force his sacrifice she didn't want on her, not listening to her. He had still thought he was the right one and she was the wrong one even when it was supposed to be about what she wanted, what made her happy, since he had meant it as an attempt to make amends to her.

Until she brought up breaking up with him, however, he had been attempting to follow through with his plan despite her objection, as if her words that she didn't want it didn't mean anything, as if he knew what she wanted better than she herself did, as if she had to be told what she wanted—what she should want, as if she was a child who had to be led in the "right" direction by someone who knew better, someone who was superior to her.

And he had blamed her for not being that kind of girl, the kind of girl who obediently and gratefully accepted what a man—who was naturally her superior—gave her even if it was different from what she truly wanted, or the kind of girl who felt happy with such an offer, such a sacrifice, from her boyfriend.

It had been the same when they had talked earlier today. The fact that she wasn't wearing his ring had shocked him to the extent that he couldn't properly think because it was a symbol of her being different from the kind of girl he wanted her to be, the kind of girl who accepted his control or the kind of girl who clung to their relationship tightly even when it was harming her or both of them instead of letting it go to protect their happiness. He had not been able to accept that she had accepted the end of their romance as an option, seemingly with such ease at that. He still had not been able to accept her just as she was.

One of the roots of his problem was that he had not been able to let go of the kind of relationship consisting of control and sacrifice, where one of them, usually the one in the lower position, had to make sacrifices for the other, the kind of relationship he knew best.

He had not been able to even consider having a different kind of relationship, one where two people equal to each other tried to find a compromise together when a problem arose, the kind of relationship Cagalli probably wanted to have with him, the kind of relationship they probably couldn't have unless he accepted her wholly and unconditionally.

Since he had not been able to do that, he had had no words to answer her this afternoon.

Although he had known he had made mistakes, what he had been doing was wrong, after Lacus's concert, he had not yet known exactly what was wrong with his ways. Thus, he had only used a different approach based on the same thinking instead of truly changing—improving—his way of thinking and his behavior, then ended up just making another mistake.

But now, he truly understood the flaw in his ways. Trying to put her under his control meant denying her being herself, which would just hurt her and ruin their relationship. Trying to mold her into his idea of ideal girlfriend wouldn't lead them to happiness. Like tying her to him with a baby, chaining her to him against her will, wouldn't.

Those desires of his to control her and change her were the source of his pain and suffering, and hers. He had been making both himself and her miserable by trying to fulfill them. Did he want to still continue the attempt?

The memories of her flashed in his mind again, one after another. All the memories from the three years since they had met. Her words followed: "I don't want us to stop being ourselves to be together."

Did he really want her to stop being herself so that they could be together? Did he truly prefer her to become someone else, different from how she was now?

The feeling that she was so precious came back to him vividly. The answer was simple again.

No. He wanted her to be herself. It was what he had wanted in the first place. He had wanted her, wanted to have a romantic relationship with her, because she was herself, not because he thought she could become a good tool to fulfill his desire for ideal girlfriend.

There might be a part of him that had been attracted to her because she fulfilled his needs and desires, even those he didn't realize having, or especially those. But then, she had not done that to become his ideal girlfriend. She even had not done most of it because he was someone special to her.

She had done so because that was how she was, and that was what attracted him to her most. That was partly why she could touch his heart so deeply, move him so strongly. Because she was so genuine. Everything she had given him—words, concern, comfort, admiration, affection, love, and even anger—had come from her heart. He loved her for that, for her heart.

Once she started acting in accordance with his wishes, living in order to fulfill his needs and desires, however, the fire inside her he cherished from the bottom of his heart would probably diminish, or even worse, die out. It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted the fire to keep burning, brightly and warmly.

It didn't exactly mean he no longer had the desire to change her. However, he probably had to accept that it was never attainable. He couldn't pick some parts of her he liked and discard other parts he didn't like, couldn't keep the fire as it was while turning her into a different person. Her fire couldn't be turned on and off at his convenience. It surely didn't work like that.

And he was certain that he would regret for the rest of his life if his attempt to make it happen destroyed her, turning her into a puppet who existed only to satisfy him without her own will and wishes. With all the mistakes he had made and all the pain and suffering he had caused her, he still loved her and cared about her. He wanted her to be happy. He had never wished otherwise.

So he knew he had to let go of the desire to mold her to his own liking. If there was a sacrifice he had to make for love, this was probably it.

Then again, it was probably not exactly a sacrifice, not one for her anyway. Because he was doing it for his own sake, for his happiness, as much as hers. He couldn't possibly be happy if he ruined her happiness, ruined someone he loved, by his selfishness. Then, it was probably just another effort to make himself happy.

He let the realization sink deep into him, permeate every corner of his mind, before he moved on to the next step.

If he wouldn't pursue that wish to change her, then what was he going after? What did he want now?

He had two options: giving Cagalli up and choosing to look for a girl who fit his idea of ideal girlfriend; giving up the idea and choosing to stay with Cagalli. He had to choose between Cagalli and the ideal girlfriend. It was the choice he truly had to make. He had to figure out which was more important to him, which he wanted more, which he could give up and which he couldn't. Which made him happy, or happier.

It would be easy and probably give him satisfaction and a sense of security to be with someone who played the role of his ideal girlfriend well. A girl he could control easily, a girl who would accept being lower than him and never threaten his position as her superior, a girl who would do everything he wanted her to and do nothing he didn't want her to, a girl who even felt happy doing so.

Having a girl—a woman—under his control was also what a full-fledged man should do in the viewpoint of men like his father which seemed to be most of the men from older generations. It was what was necessary, almost essential, to get their approval. It was the kind of happiness he had been taught—albeit indirectly—to desire and go after, what people said was the happiness.

And it simply seemed...soothing to have someone who would always be under him, which would probably make him feel like a better, larger man.

On the other hand, it would be tough and probably often frustrate him to be with Cagalli. Their relationship would be the kind he wasn't familiar with, not the traditional kind, not the kind many couples seemed to have, not the kind he was supposed to have with a girl. And he would probably have to keep struggling to figure out how to be in such a relationship, at least for a while.

It might be best for him if he and Cagalli broke up and went back to friends. He was sure she wouldn't deny him her friendship, care, or love—albeit a different kind. He could still have her in his life, receiving her warmth and light, while having a girlfriend who fit into his expectations. Even if it pained her, she would forgive him for pursuing his own happiness.

And he knew Cagalli was strong and could be happy even if they parted ways. Therefore, he didn't have to hesitate because he was worried about what would become of her after he left her. He couldn't use it as the reason of his choice, as an excuse.

With some other girl who was weaker, he might have—would probably have done that. He would have decided to stay in the relationship, saying he couldn't abandon her, and deluded himself that he was acting for a noble reason—for a reason that people said was noble and right—making a sacrifice for her, when he was actually just escaping from sincerely thinking about the matter, from properly facing himself and his desires, from shouldering the burden of living his own life, using the girl as a tool. He had nearly done a similar thing when he had offered to go to Tassil with Cagalli.

However, Cagalli wasn't weak enough to let him use her like that. She didn't let him run away like that.

He felt a pang at the thought, at admitting that she didn't really need him, not the way he wanted her to anyway, the desperate way that wouldn't allow her to leave him no matter what, that would satisfy his need to feel needed and erase his fear of being abandoned by her. It wasn't like he had not already known it. Acknowledging it still hurt, nonetheless. But dealing with it, another difference between her and his ideal girlfriend, was easier now that he had accepted her for who she was. Or at least he was getting there.

At the same time, he couldn't just dismiss the pain. Although it would probably subside over time, and hopefully be gone eventually, it was still a part of being with Cagalli, a part of the cost of choosing her. He had to take it into consideration in order to find the right answer. If he ignored it, or trivialized it, he was likely to falter after making the choice, which would do no good to anyone.

After all, it was what he had been doing for the past several months. He had not given a proper thought to what it meant to be with her before asking her out, or even after starting to date her, and his negligence had ended up hurting both of them badly. He couldn't repeat the same mistake. This time, if he was going to choose her, he had to do it while being fully aware of what he was getting into.

He breathed in, then out, and repeated the process several times before returning to the problem solving.

The fact was that he owed Cagalli nothing, much less staying together with her. To be honest, he didn't exactly feel that way, given all the kindness and help she had given him. But he knew that was how she saw it. Everything she had done for him was her gift freely given, not favor he had to repay her for. She would never place him under indebtedness, restrain him like that. Probably the only way he could pay her back was to face head-on this task of figuring out what he should do to be happy.

And in order to do so, he had to make his own choice instead of running away from taking responsibility for his own life and letting someone else, or something like fate, make the choice for him.

It wasn't easy. No, it was disturbingly difficult. He had been raised to follow other people's expectations, do what they wanted him to. Thinking about his own happiness, and pursuing it, didn't just make him feel selfish. It was actually scary. He was walking into an unknown territory.

Meeting expectations, doing what he was supposed to do, was safe. It protected him from blame or the heavy responsibility of deciding his own life. It was also satisfying, making him feel needed. But he couldn't stay there. He had to move forward, no matter how frightening it was, no matter how vulnerable it made him feel. There were things he couldn't obtain otherwise, and he wanted them. Therefore, he had to go, leaving the comfort of the familiar.

At least, he wasn't alone. He felt like the amulet in his hand was emitting heat and light, reassuring and encouraging him. He knew it was just his imagination. But he also knew the imagination wasn't baseless.

No matter who blamed him for selfishness, Cagalli wouldn't. She would give him all the support she could in his pursuit of happiness. Knowing it gave him the strength to follow through on this struggle for the answer, to confront the hardest part.

What made him feel selfish most was to consider the idea of dating another girl while keeping Cagalli in his life. For some reason, it made him feel like a two-timer even though he would never do such an immoral thing like cheating on his girlfriend.

Despite the discomfort, though, he had to explore all his options thoroughly. It was necessary in order to find the best answer to a problem, even if it meant facing the ugly sides of himself. They were his honest desires; he wanted a girlfriend who fit his ideal and still wanted Cagalli in his life even after breaking up with her. Therefore, the situation he was considering was likely to happen if he chose the ideal girlfriend over Cagalli. He had to accept that, accept those desires of his, accept the fact that he was the kind of person who wanted such things, instead of trying to look past them.

Pressing his lips together tightly, he willed himself to focus. Whether he felt comfortable with it or not, he had an option to have both Cagalli—as a friend—and a girl who satisfied his desire for ideal girlfriend if he wanted. Then the question was...If friendship was all he could have with Cagalli, would it be enough for him? Did he want an ideal girlfriend enough to give up what he could have only when Cagalli and he were more than friends?

An image of Cagalli popped into his head, smiling affectionately at him. In his mind, he cupped her face with his hands. Her smile became wider and she giggled as his thumbs softly moved over her cheeks pushed up by the smile, enjoying the feel of her sun-kissed skin. He closed the distance between their faces and her face turned pink. Her eyelids shut a little hurriedly. Her face slightly tilted up, ready to accept him, which filled his chest with happiness. Her lips and mouth were soft and warm and sweet. As he messed with her hair in an attempt to kiss her more deeply, his nostrils caught a waft of her citrus shampoo. Her hands tugged at his shirt and her body leaned into him, pressed against his and perfectly fitting into it. He slipped a hand under her shirt to caress her silky skin. She sighed into his mouth and he swallowed it, feeling like he had just taken in a part of her.

It was as if all of her was laid bare in front of him: her mind, her body, her heart, even her soul. They were there for him to take—to share, entrusted in his hands so unguardedly, so boldly.

An awed breath escaped his lips. He had never realized the true value of those exchanges when he had actually had them.

"Bye, Athrun."

As her voice rung in his ears, the image in his head was replaced with the forlorn smile and the intense eyes, then her back disappearing behind the door.

Even that image soon vanished from his mind, and the feelings the imaginary exchanges with her had brought to him seconds ago were gone as well.

He dropped his gaze at the amulet in his hand, then gripped it and pressed his fist against his chest—his heart. He wanted strength, needed it, and there was nothing more suitable to draw it from than this stone.

After a long while, he slowly reached out for his phone to type a text with his left hand, his right one still securely holding the pendant.

Are you awake?

It was almost midnight—he vaguely remembered his grandmother saying good night from the entrance of his room and his absently replying in kind hours ago—but he knew there was a high chance of it.

He kept his eyes on the phone, his right fist still attached to his chest. About six minutes later, a return text popped up.

What's up?

Thank you for reading. See you next week!

···

Below is the reply to review.

To Fuyu Aki:

Hello, thank you for another review!

Sorry Athrun in "The Confrontation" wasn't exactly likable. But I needed to show that side of him, his weakness that sways him to an easy path. Hopefully, it's more understandable after you read this chapter. This chapter is supposed to explain Athrun's behavior and sentiments and clear readers' confusion. Most of them anyway.

Well, I suppose you still have questions regardless. So, don't hesitate to ask them in your review or PM :)

*posted 05/05/19*

*edited 11/15/20*