Chapter 3: Waltz in A Minor

The ride to L1 was long and uneventful, unless you count Duo becoming antsy and annoying both Heero and Wufei to the point at which his very life was in danger and a stewardess had to ask them to be quieter. As they finally disembarked, the artificial sunlight glared harshly, causing the pilots to shield their eyes and grunt almost simultaneously. When next they were all able to see, they found themselves standing in front of a young brunette woman.

"Hello! You must be the new students." Without waiting for a response, she chattered on, "I'm Miss Jenkins, the assistant secretary at Saint Christopher's High School. The principal told me to tell you that he was extremely sorry for not coming to meet you, but that something came up and that he tried to send the assistant principal, but she was busy too. So I'm here to take you to the school! Isn't that great?"

The gundam team blinked, dazed by this long speal of chatter. Wufei recovered first. Extending his hand, he said politely,

"We are grateful that you made the time out of your no doubt busy schedule to guide us to your school. We are very pleased to make your acquaintance."

He managed to pull this off with a completely straight face, his tone both respectful and leisurely without a note of sarcasm. Unfortunately, this effort was lost on the woman, who responded,

"Great! Now get in the car and we'll go!"

The pilots looked and discovered that while their attention had been captured while they deciphered the fast-paced drivel that came out of the lady's mouth; a taxi had driven up beside them. They climbed in, and within minutes, were driving down the streets of L1. The colony was by no standards aesthetically beautiful, in fact, the effects of the war were quite apparent here. Buildings were riddled with water damage from the sporadic fighting, and here and there were empty lots filled with the charred remains of houses or businesses. None of the pilots commented, though, they were used to destruction. Yet there were signs of normal life resuming. People were re-opening the undamaged small businesses and a few young children could be seen playing in their front yards. After about half an hour, the car came to a stop in front of a large, cream coloured building that proudly bore the lettering "Saint Christopher's High School."

The young woman got out of the car with the five boys. Opening the a large twisting gate that connected to a simple, black fence that appeared to go the whole way around the school, she beckoned at the team to come in. The pilots were lost in wonder. They had been to schools before, on missions and such, but never to one they would be attending for more than a month. Suddenly, apprehension was thick in the air. Quatre could feel it radiating from both himself and the others. It was a new kind of apprehension: fear, mixed with dread and a tiny hint of distrustful excitement.

Quatre had never been to school before in his life, unless one counted the time he spent at the academy in the Sanq Kingdom with Heero. It was not as if his father had neglected his education. No! There could be nothing but the best for the Winner heir. However, his father believed that Quatre would grow up to be the most intelligent, charismatic, and the best strategist in the world, and he would stand for no less. He had lessons on everything from public speaking to music. Mr. Winner was rarely at home, and he gave Quatre's tutors full authoritative power over him. Quatre shuddered, remembering the abuse he had suffered at the hands of the tutors and servants his father had employed. Most of his teachers had been embittered men who were jealous of his father and thought of Quatre as a spoiled brat who needed discipline. Therefore, he was quite accustomed to physical and mental abuse, which contributed to the state the Maguanacs had found him in when he had finally run away at the age of 13.

Somehow, through it all, he had managed to become quite resilient mentally. His empathic abilities had helped. He had always tried to channel the anger, hatred, and resentment felt regularly in his household into himself, trying as hard as he could to come up with matching levels of compassion and gentleness in himself, so he could create a balance. When things had gotten really bad, he would often lock himself away and play his violin for hours, creating for himself a world of beauty and tranquility unrivaled in his life. He shook himself from his reverie. The point was, that this was an opportunity for him to start all over again, and he wasn't sure if he liked that idea, hated it, or was deathly afraid of it.

Heero's POV

As we approached the school, I felt an unfamiliar feeling in my gut. Apprehension, perhaps? I watched the teenagers playing soccer in the field in front of the school. I had lost control of myself, but, as much as that infuriated me, I just could not take my gaze away from those kids. Kids like me. I saw a boy kicking the ball and yelling to his friend to run up the field for it. That boy could have been me. Suddenly, mission or no, I was not sure I was up to completing it. I felt sick, in a very real, very physical sense. Who was I kidding? Who were we kidding? We could not do this. We could not be those kids. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, and looked up to find Duo staring down concernedly. I was not very good at expressing myself, so I gave my best try at a reassuring glance. When that seemed to only further his confusion, I said aloud,

"I'm okay, Duo." As an afterthought, I added, "Thank you for your concern."

He smiled that clownish smile of his, that I know very well is just as much a protective front as my coldness. We all have them: Quatre's sunny smiles, Trowa's deathly silences, and Wufei's strong, in your face attitude.

"Anytime, buddy."

The car stopped, and the pilots filed out in an orderly fashion, barely refraining from gaping in awe at the sunny, peaceful atmosphere of the school. On either side of the walkway leading into the school, there were well-watered, green fields. Suddenly, a soccer ball flew from the field to the left.

Wufei's POV

I was too busy staring at the school to notice the soccer ball flying in my direction. When I finally did see it out of the corner of my eye, it was out of reflex alone that I caught it before it smashed into my nose. I stared at it numbly for a few seconds, trying to process the fact that I would be learning again at a school. I felt a tap on my shoulder and barely controlled my surprised reaction. This was not good; I was letting my guard down. I turned around, very, very slowly with my best intimidating glare on. I would not show my fear that I was barely keeping under control. The kid behind me looked about 13. He was about my height so I didn't have to look up. That had been happening way too often lately. The kid gulped when he saw the look on my face, and took an involuntary step backwards.

"Could I have my ball back?" The kid squeaked in a frightened tone of voice.

Realizing I still had the thing crushed in a death grip, I slowly handed it back to him. To my surprise, the kid burst into tears and took off, the ball tucked safely under his arm. The assistant principal beside me called after him,

"Simon! Simon, come back! It's alright." The kid didn't stop. He ran all the way inside the school and didn't come out. The lady then rounded on me.

"Why on earth did you do that?"

"Do what?"

I was nonplussed. All I had done was glare at him, trying to overcome my own feelings. He shouldn't have had that kind of reaction. I wasn't that scary, was I?

"Don't try to tell me you don't know what you did! You were looking at him like he was some kind of dirt on your shoe! You can't just go around scaring people like that here. Well, I guess you didn't know, but still!"

I felt Quatre's hand on my shoulder, I guess some of my distress must have been showing in my body language. I scared him? Why was that all people ever told me? Didn't they understand that I was scared too? Realizing exactly how whiny that sounded, even in my own head, I turned my attention to other matters just in time to hear Heero interjecting.

"What don't we know?" He said in that demanding, in control type of voice that I envied so much.

"Come inside and I'll tell you." The lady said, and with a flourish, she turned around, her skirt blowing in the wind.

We followed her inside.

End Wufei's POV

They walked down a long, empty corridor; it was lunch hour and everyone was outside. All five boys were almost too busy memorizing the layout of the building to notice when they arrived at their destination. The principal's office was huge. The waiting room alone was about the size of an average classroom, and was empty with the exception of a few chairs and a secretary's desk at the other end of the room. They sat down in the chairs and waited. After what seemed like an eternity, a tall, well-built Asian man stepped out of his office.

"Ah, I take it you must be the new students."

The gundam team looked at each other, uncertain of the appropriate response to such an obvious question. As it turned out, however, no response was needed or expected. The principal ushered them into his office, dismissing Miss Jenkins with a wave of his hand as he did so. Once inside, they were seated, and a slightly awkward silence ensued while the principal seemed to decide how to begin.

"I have been informed of your identities by the Preventers organization."

This statement was met with tensed shoulders, worried glances, and a threatening grunt from Heero.

Quatre then made himself heard, "If you don't mind my asking, sir, if you know who we are, why are you willing to take the risk of having us in your school?" Quatre blushed furiously at this, but pressed on, "We are soldiers, and, though we will do our best to suppress our instincts, we are dangerous."

"That's an excellent question, and one I hope to be able to answer. You see, this is not a normal public high school. We have a government grant. As well as providing an education, one of our goals is to provide adequate care and help for the troubled youth of the war."

"Wait a second!" Duo yelled angrily, "Are you implying that we are mentally deficient or something? Is this some kind of mental hospital? I refuse to stay here a moment longer!"

The principal stared back at the fuming Duo calmly.

"No, I am not implying that you are mentally deficient at all, I am merely stating the fact that you are a troubled youth who has been affected by the war. I know that none of you feel much like the teenagers you are, but that's why you are here. Every person here is here for the purpose of rebuilding their own lives. As to you leaving, from what your commander said, you don't have much of a choice about being here."

He paused a moment to allow this to sink in before beginning again.

"Our school offers a variety of extra-curricular clubs and sports. You will be required to participate in at least one each term. We also strongly encourage advanced academics. In other high schools, students are encouraged to take two electives, one applied skill and one fine art, however, at Saint Christopher's, and one of those two courses will be replaced by group therapy sessions. You will be separated into groups according to your war time experiences. You will also be required to see a counselor at least once a week for one on one therapy. We have students who have experiences all types of traumas, from orphaned children, to child soldiers, like yourselves. As you have already pointed out, having all these kids here in one place is quite a security risk, therefore, our security system is diverse. There are surveillance cameras in every room," here he glared impressively, "any attempt to dislodge them will be immediately and severely punished. We also have a small team of medical staff and not so few security guards. They are dressed down so you may not spot them easily, but they are there. Are there any questions, gentlemen?

He was met with shocked silence from all of them.

"Excellent. I'm sure you are tired from the journey here. I will have someone escort you to your rooms. Normally, we only allow four to a room, but given your circumstances, we have made an exception. You will be rooming together. Dinner is at 5:00 sharp and an older student will be sent to guide you to the cafeteria. Tomorrow, you will be called back here at 8:00 to choose your elective class and receive your timetables. Good day, gentlemen."

With that, he pushed a buzzer and a young secretary appeared at the door.

"Rosella, please escort these boys to room 217 in the upper C-wing of the school."

The girl nodded, and beckoned at the boys to follow her.