The living room was large and filled with comfortable-looking furniture. There was a pool table, and a TV, and in the far corner there was a small kitchen area. The floor was concrete, like the rest of the building, but there were rugs over most of it. It too had been painted by Trowa, and it didn't look half as shabby as it would have otherwise. Quatre pulled me over to one of the couches and sat me down next to Heero while Trowa sat down across from us. Quatre went over to the kitchen area, and brought back a bowl of trail mix to put on the table between us.

"What do you want to drink?"

"I'll take a Sprite," Heero answered; Trowa didn't say anything, so I assumed he either wasn't having a drink or Quatre already knew what he wanted.

"Just water," I said, not wanting to stretch their hospitality.

"Um, we don't have any. The water in the faucets isn't any good to drink. We've got Sprite, Pepsi, Diet Coke... lemonade, fruit punch." Quatre ticked the choices off on his fingers.

"I'll have a Sprite too, then." I hadn't had soda in such a long time—it was another thing we couldn't afford. I wondered how they fared; they lived in this run-down building, yet they could afford things. All of them had nicer clothes than me, for one. I got hand-me-downs and donations from the people who came to church. Christmas and my birthday were the only times I got new clothes and whatever else Father Maxwell and Sister Helen could afford.

Quatre returned and handed everybody their drinks. The can was nice and cool, and wet with perspiration. I tried to open it, but I didn't have much in the way of fingernails and it was slippery. Heero, seeing that I was struggling with it, plucked the can out of my hands and opened it for me. He handed it back to me with what I saw as a hopeful-looking smile. I wondered if Quatre had told him yet what I had said, or if Heero was waiting for me to tell him myself—or if he even knew that Quatre had already asked.

If we were going to say anything to each other, neither of us got anything out because at that moment Wufei came into the room.

He strode in and went over to the refrigerator to grab a drink, then came over to our little circle and sat himself down in an empty armchair while popping open his can of soda. "You haven't properly introduced me."

Even just seeing him when I had come in, I knew I didn't like him at all. He seemed to be around the same age as Heero, Quatre, and Trowa, but I had never seen him at school—and if he had been here, keeping watch on the door, maybe he didn't go. He also seemed very... arrogant. Maybe it was just the tone of his voice; I couldn't pinpoint the exact reason. He just rubbed me the wrong way.

Quatre took charge. "Oh, that's right! This is Duo. Wufei, Duo."

"Nice to meet you, after seeing you."

I nodded and mumbled something that may or may not have been a greeting. Sometimes it was a good thing that people knew I was shy; they didn't expect as much of me then.

It was easier to get though life if I kept my head down and stayed out of the way. On the other hand, it wasn't very good for carrying on a conversation—not that I had ever needed to, except with Sister Helen. I was very open with her about general things, such as what I did at school and my grades. Other than that I wasn't a conversationalist, especially around people I didn't know. I tended to fold up, to stay quiet and in doing so hoped they would lose interest in me and go away.

There was an awkward silence for a moment after my muffled response, where no one seemed inclined to talk. Quatre, who couldn't seem to stand any sort of silence, eventually broke it.

"So, Duo..." It was easy to see he was desperately casting about for a suitable topic, not having thought of one before speaking. "Umm..."

I would have suggested something, were I inclined to talk. Wufei spoke up instead, saving Quatre the embarrassment of having nothing to say.

"So you fight them too. Have you been doing it long?"

I'd never tried to talk about the war with anybody, but this sort of general question I could easily deal with. "I... guess. For about six or seven years." They looked shocked.

"Duo...how old are you?" Quatre asked carefully.

"Fifteen. Why?" Quatre was counting under his breath, trying to work out the math of my age versus how long I said I'd been fighting. He seemed confused. "Is there something wrong with that?"

He looked up at me. "No, it's just that..." he shook his head. "Never mind."

I was a little disappointed; I had wanted to know why it shocked them to learn how long I had been fighting. Perhaps they were new to it. Or maybe they just couldn't imagine someone that young fighting such an enemy and still living to tell about it.

"Maybe we should go introduce him to Zechs," Heero suggested. Quatre looked relieved, and all agreed that it was the best thing to do next. I was curious; Quatre had mentioned "taking me to Zechs" when we had come in, and I wondered who he was. The way they spoke about him, and how they wished me to meet him, made me think that he was probably their leader or something similar.

We finished our drinks and headed back to the stairs, this time going all the way up to the roof. Wufei came with us, unfortunately, but there was nothing I could do about it. I didn't want to tell him I didn't like him, because that wouldn't be very nice, and I felt it wasn't right to just come out and say something like that to someone whom I didn't know; unlike Quatre, I wasn't the type to speak my mind.

As Wufei had said, Zechs was on lookout, so we had to go all the way up to the roof to find him. I had mixed feelings about meeting someone else again so soon. I wasn't a people person at all, and I was already starting to feel nervous—not a good sign. When I got stressed... I didn't want to think about what might happen. I didn't want to think about losing the friends I had just gained.