Deciding that I should probably make the most of my time before classes start again, I head towards the shooting range. I'm pretty good with guns, I must say, but a little practice never harms. Especially when the instructors are watching us so closely these days.
When I arrive, I'm a little surprised to see Athrun Zala and Miguel Aiman also there. Well, maybe not so much Athrun. He always seems to be at the shooting range. Perfecting his already perfect marksmanship. Show-off.
Miguel grins when he sees me.
"Hey, Dearka. What brings you here?" Miguel is one of the only people I can stand in this place. He's rather arrogant and he seems to have a permanent sarcastic expression glued onto his face, but at least he's not an incompetent natural-loving coward like some other people. *Cough* Nicol Amalfi.
"You know, same as you," I reply, selecting a gun from the rack, "I want to be selected for the Le Creuset team. It's the opportunity of a lifetime."
Miguel laughs. "True that." He thinks for a moment. "How about we have a little competition? Ten shots each. Whoever gets the most bullseyes wins."
"Sounds good. I'll go first." I concentrate, aiming at the target, and prepare to pull the trigger.
Suddenly, there is loud boom. An explosion.
I am thrown to the ground. The impact is hard and knocks all the wind out of me, but at least I'm alive. I think I am, anyway. The floor shakes and crumbles, and the walls start cracking and falling away. I feel the heat of the flames on my skin. The lights flicker and go off, plunging us into darkness. Someone screams, but I'm not sure who it was. I lie there, face pressed to the floor as the walls cave in and the terrible sound of the explosion fills the air. I don't know how long I lie there, not knowing whether I'm going to live or die, as the world falls apart around me. It may have been only seconds, but it seems much longer.
At last, everything goes quiet and still.
I slowly lift myself up, checking for injuries. Dust and smoke fills my throat, making it hard to breathe. Next to me, Miguel is coughing and cursing. I've never heard anything so beautiful in my life. We're both alive.
"Hang on, I think I have a torch somewhere…" Miguel rummages around in his pocket, and a moment later a small beam lights up the space. Miguel's face is streaked with smoke, and there is a small cut on his forehead.
"You alright?" I ask.
"Yeah," he mutters grimly. "That was a close one."
"We're not safe yet. Come on, we have to get out of here."
I ease myself to my feet and take in my surroundings. I'm a little unsteady, but nothing seems to be broken.
I look around, at the scene of destruction surrounding me. There is rubble everywhere. The blast tore a hole right through the wall. A part of the ceiling has caved in. I can see stars through the hole.
We slowly pick our way through the rubble and towards the door, stumbling against the uneven ground. I can hear voices. People are coming.
Suddenly, the torch beam shines on something half-buried under the debris. I feel my knees go weak.
It's a body.
As we get closer, barely daring to breathe, I can see that the person's wearing the standard issue red ZAFT uniform. And he has blue hair, bright against the grey dust.
A flash of blue hair.
Athrun.