A/n: Okay, so I'm really late updating again. School's been a whole lot of hell for me so far. Sigh. Anyways, here's chapter two.

Chapter 2 The Revelation

Where one story starts, another one unfolds. And this second story must be told – or in this case, read – in order for the first one to proceed.

This said story starts in a patch of land, which was a low-lying plateau that overlooked a sandy beach. On the patch of land stood an inconspicuous-looking residence with an exterior made out of mahogany logs.

The log house was actually a humble orphanage run by a retired pastor, who had become blind due to an accident that had happened just a few years past. The orphanage housed fourteen children, most of whom the former pastor himself had taken into his custody, until some other people would come along and care for one of the orphans as his or her own.

On that particular day, the pastor, who was called Reverend Malchio by the people who knew him, was sitting on a chair, with his trusty walking stick leaning on one leg of a table beside him.

Reverend Malchio had a grim look in his eyes. He was waiting, expecting a visitor, but it was obvious that he wasn't just inviting the visitor over for a cup of tea. They were to talk about a grave matter, one that should be taken into great consideration…

"Reverend?"

"Oh, Michal," the blind pastor said, recognizing the voice as one of his "children". "Have you finished your supper?"

Michal, a boy who had dirty-blonde hair and hazel eyes, nodded vigorously. Then, remembering that the man he was talking to was visually impaired, answered, "Yep. Me and Jared are gonna make sandcastles out on the beach later."

"That's good, but don't stay up too late, okay?"

"We won't," he answered. "Reverend Malchio, are you still waiting for the visitor you told us about this morning?" the child added.

The old man nodded. "He said he would arrive at about this time. Orb is quite far from here, about four hours on the road."

Michal was about to answer when he saw a brand-new-looking black car pull up across the street. From his view from the window, he could see a man getting out of the car.

This man looked to be middle-aged. He had long brown hair that extended down below his shoulder blades. He seemed to be an important personality in Orb, judging from the familiar purple suit he wore, which was exactly the same as the ones Orb representatives adorned.

"Um, Reverend Malchio, I think that's him," Michal informed the blind man. He opened the door for the important-looking man in the purple suit.

"Ah, yes, I've been expecting you," the reverend said, his voice sounding as grim as his facial features. He turned his head to where he mentally visualized as the doorway. "You were only sixteen when I saw you last, Uzumi Nara Attha."

"Yes, I know," Representative Uzumi answered. "I heard about your blindness, Reverend," he added. "I'm sorry."

"There's really nothing to be sorry about," Reverend Malchio said jovially. "I lost my vision for a good cause."

"The Reverend saved me from a bomb explosion during the war," Michal chimed in. Sadly, he added, "His eyes got hit by the shrapnel from the bomb. All because of me."

"I never blamed you. It's the war that is at fault."

"Michal, hey!" a different voice yelled from the outside of the orphanage. "Come on!"

"Er…"

"Go on," Reverend Malchio said, consenting the boy, who immediately went out the back door, letting in the salty breeze, which came from the seawater outside.

As soon as Michal was out of earshot, the pastor spoke. "I know why you're here, Representaive Attha. Are you really sure you want to go through with what you're planning?"

"I have no choice," the younger man said. "I have to abide by the traditions of my country."

"That tradition – if that's what you call it – isn't worth keeping," the blind man replied. "Not if it creates an emotional scar in one's life. You know how it feels, Uzumi. Your own father did that to you. Do you actually intend to do the same to your own son?"

"My only son Kira can't rule Orb if I don't isolate him from the country until he is of age," Uzumi said flatly. "If I don't do this, the council will most definitely question my decision. I don't want the Attha dynasty to fade away because of my own selfish reasons."

"Your only son will come to despise you," Reverend Malchio warned. "Are you willing to take that risk in order to consolidate your power over Orb?"

"I'm doing this for his future. Kira is the only potential ruler of Orb. Only he can succeed me. You know that."

The pastor let out a sigh. "Then do what you must," he said. Then in his mind he added, He loves his country even more than his own child. He is too much like his father.

There was nothing out of the ordinary with Athrun Zala and Cagalli Yula Attha's newfound friendship. In fact, it was so normal that fate probably decided to make things more interesting.

It was the blonde five-year old who had first noticed that something was different. Cagalli had been aware that there was always something not quite usual with Athrun, which made him seem different from the other boys in their school.

The root of this irregularity occurred only a few months after both met. Athrun had invited Cagalli to his home that day.

Somehow the amber-eyed girl had talked Athrun into wearing one of her frilly pinky dresses – which she absolutely refused to wear unless her nursemaid Mana forced her to during special occasions – that she brought from her house a few blocks away.

"I just wanna see if you look girly wearing a dress," Cagalli said, persuading the raven-haired boy. "Besides, you can take it off right after."

"Okay, fine, I'll try it out, but I promise to complain the whole way," Athrun replied, letting the blonde place the accursed dress over his clothes.

"Hey! You never said your dress made you feel hot and itchy when you wore it," he complained.

"If I told you that, you wouldn't wear it, would you? Besides, just look at yourself. You actually look… pretty."

Athrun went over to the full-body mirror beside his closet and stared at himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I look like a girl. Big laugh. Now can I get this thing off?"

"Right, whatever," the girl said dismissively. The dress obviously had no value at all for her.

Athrun was just about to take the horrid pink apparel off him when he heard a loud, booming voice just outside the open door of his room.

"Athrun Zala!"

He turned around. "F-Father?" he stammered.

"What is the meaning of this?" Patrick Zala demanded, putting emphasis into every word he said.

"Father, I-,"

"We'll talk about this later," he interrupted. Athrun's father turned to the blonde. "Cagalli, you should be heading home. Your father called and told me he wanted to talk to you."

Talk? She thought, snorting inwardly. Yeah, right.

"Okay, Mr. Zala," Cagalli replied. She took the dress off Athrun, who was as stiff as a board, afraid of facing his father's wrath. "I'll see you tomorrow, Athrun."

She then walked out of the room. She hadn't taken a few steps when she heard shouting from Athrun's room. Cagalli was tempted to listen in, but she remembered that she had to head home.

The amber-eyed five-year old had a feeling that she had to move fast. She felt that what her father wanted to tell her was important. Really important.

So important that her dad actually went out of his way to call her home, since he and Cagalli never once spoke a word to each other since he sent Cagalli's brother to the orphanage, more than half a year ago.

It was her mother who knew everything about Cagalli; she was always the one the girl confided everything to. But since her mother was in a comatose state after she had a stroke about three months ago, Cagalli found no one to turn to but her best friend Athrun.

All those thoughts were in Cagalli's head as she entered the Attha mansion, inside where her father Uzumi was waiting.

The five-year old temporarily set aside the anger she felt towards her father when she saw the rueful-looking face of Orb's most powerful man in the living room.

"Cagalli, I… I have bad news," Uzumi said, before his daughter could ask what the problem was.

"Is it about Mother? How is she?" Cagalli asked, getting anxious with the look on her dad's face.

Uzumi averted his eyes, not really wanting to reveal to his daughter the fate of his wife.

"Tell me, Father, what happened?" the blonde demanded. "Answer me!"

"She… She's gone, Cagalli."

It took Cagalli at least five seconds to react to what her father had just told her.

"What did you say?" she said blankly.

"You heard me, Cagalli," the Orb representative said. "Your mother, she's dead."

His daughter shook her head violently. "No! The doctor told me she'd wake up, Father! He told me! You're lying!" she shouted angrily. Tears were streaming down her cheeks like twin waterfalls.

Uzumi enveloped his daughter in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Cagalli. I'm sorry."

"You're lying, you're lying," Cagalli said over and over again, her yells slowly becoming softer, but the tears still running down her face, never ending.

A day later, at her mother's wake, Athrun came bringing with him a box of tissues, knowing that his best friend would need it.

Cagalli had thanked him for bringing the tissues. She then noticed, as the raven-haired boy held the box out to her, that there was a big, ugly green-and-purple bruise on his wrist.

"What happened to that?" Cagalli asked.

"Oh, this is nothing," Athrun said, quickly hiding his bruised hand behind his back.

The blonde knew, from the scenario she had heard yesterday before she left Athrun's house, that his father had probably beat him for wearing the dress. But she didn't tell Athrun that.

Both never spoke of that incident again.

a/n: Well, I guess that's it for now. Chapter three will probably be more eventful. Well, peepz, till later!