With a tray of food in my hand, I survey the dining hall for a place to sit. Yzak and Dearka are sitting at a table a few meters away, deep in conversation. Yzak looks quite pissed off, so I decide that they're probably talking about how Athrun beat Yzak in advanced combat training before. I smile. Yzak is not used to getting thrashed, he thinks he's top of the class in everything.

Yzak sees me staring at him, and he glares at me. I quickly look away. I think that guy hates me. Not that I care, really. But it would be nice to have some friends… Although I guess it IS a ZAFT training academy, not a picnic in the park. We come here to learn to kill people. Not to make friends.

My mother was shocked when I told her that I was going to join ZAFT. She begged me not to go. But my mind had been made up. After the bloody Valentine disaster, I was determined to do my part to end the war. Why should I stay at home and do nothing, when others just like me were fighting for their lives?

"But what about your piano, Nicol?" my mother had asked, in a pleading tone. "You want to be a concert pianist, don't you?"

I did. I still do. But what's the point of being a concert pianist if the world around you has been destroyed, your loved ones dead? Maybe one day, when the war is over, I might become a concert pianist. But now is not the time. There's an old piano on the stage of the presentation hall. I go there and practise sometimes, but between combat training, computer programming and explosive handling, there's not much time. Anyway, it's in really bad condition and desperately needs tuning, so it's not the best instrument to play on.

I see Athrun sitting by himself at a table in the corner of the dining room, staring into space. Maybe he likes being alone, but he seems lonely to me. I make my way towards his table, weaving past the tables of people eating and talking.

I set my tray down on Athrun's table, and sit down in the seat opposite him.

"Hey," I say.

Athrun looks up and gives me a quick smile, before turning back to his food.

We sit in awkward silence for a while, before I decide that I have to attempt to start a conversation. I grab the first conversation starter that comes into my mind.

"So…um…have you ever played a musical instrument?"

Athrun looks up with an amused and slightly surprised expression on his face.

"No, I haven't. But I would like to learn an instrument, someday. You play piano, don't you? I've heard you play. You're really good."

I shrug. "I want to be a concert pianist, and be in a real concert some day. But not now. Not when there is a war going on."

I take a bite from my sandwich. "Music is beauty," I say, feeling myself blush. "Music makes me happy. The notes just flow out and it transports me away to a new place. Good music can make you feel happy, angry, sad, it can tell you things, take away all your worries and problems..."

I trail off, realising that I'm rambling. Athrun probably doesn't even care. "Or is that just me? Sorry, I'll shut up now."

I look down at my food, wishing that a hole would open me up and swallow me whole. Never mind that we're on a slab of land that is literally floating in space. I had a perfectly good chance to make friends with Athrun Zala, and now he probably thinks I'm an insane idiot.

To my surprise, Athrun doesn't laugh at me or tell me to piss off.

"It's nice, being able to talk with someone whose not obsessed with killing everyone for a change." Athrun says.

I look up from my half eaten sandwich, and realise that Athrun is smiling. He seems sincere about it, too.

"So…you don't think I'm crazy?"

"If there's something you love, something you are passionate about, then you should pursue your dream." Athrun sounds pensive. "The world needs beauty."

This is so weird. It appears that Athrun is not the emotionless, lethal soldier I always thought he was. He has a thoughtful, kind side, too.

"I'm so glad you beat Yzak in combat training today," I tell him, "He needed someone to remind him that the world doesn't revolve around him."

Athrun laughs. "He was a good opponent and a good fighter. Next time I may not be so lucky."

"You're so good at everything. You top all your classes. I've seen you out on the shooting range. You hit the target every single time. How are you even able to do that? I never even get close to the target."

Athrun shrugs. "I have too much time on my hands, that's all. Like how you love piano. I'm just obsessed with hitting the centre of the target. I go there and practise most mornings, you know?"

I had a suspicion that Athrun trained privately before class. That guy sure is dedicated. Although I guess that when I still lived at home, I would practise the piano for hours, losing track of the time, so I can't really talk. I don't practise much anymore, though. The day is always so packed with classes and training, and I value my sleep too much to get up earlier than I have to. "Shooting is certainly a more useful pastime than playing the piano, for a ZAFT soldier."

We talk for the rest of lunch, about music, about the harsh training routines here at the academy, as well as plans for the future. As an unspoken rule, neither of us talks about the past. I know that Athrun's mother died in the Valentine disaster; there was quite a lot of publicity about it, she being Patrick Zala's wife and everything. I would be utterly devastated if my mother died. I can understand not wanting to talk about it, and I'm not about to ask him. Maybe that's the reason why he decided to join ZAFT.

I'm really starting to like Athrun Zala a lot better. He's a really nice guy, once you get to know him. All too soon, lunch is over, and we make our way to our next class.