Author's Note: I do not own Gundam Seed and/or Gundam Destiny.

Part IV

Once they were both back downstairs, they go out the front door and back outside, taking the same winding path they had the night before that eventually leads them to the little town's main street. From there, he escorts her down to the waterfront and the various shops that lined its length. The harbour area, the heart of the town, seemed to be an eclectic mix of farmer's markets, cafes, and the odd boutiques that catered to the few tourists that came in around this season. There were also a number of street venders scattered along the way that were peddling their own knickknacks and regional fare with varrying degrees of success.

Between all the locals and visitors, this was where Athrun had met some of the most interesting people that he knew and it had always been one of his favourite places in the entire town. And so it naturally made him happy that she seemed to enjoy this place just as much as he did, and he watched Cagalli appreciatively as she absorbed all the wonders around her. She was almost like a kid in a candy store, in the way she took in everything – the sights, the sounds, the smells – in utter fascination and glee. And he revelled in her childlike delight. Because she was smiling and laughing, and beautiful beyond words.

They continue to stroll aimlessly for a bit longer so that she can familiarize herself with her new surroundings before he eventually decides its timw to treat her to the local cuisine. So he buys funnel cake for the both of them from one of the vendors and they make their way towards a bench with a great view of the sea, where they sit together.

"This is delicious, Athrun!" She gushed. Taking a bite, her ecstatic "Mmm" audibly confirmed that, in this case, appearances hadn't been deceiving. The meal was absolutely heavenly.

He grinned. "I take it that the town's street desserts meet your approval."

"Everything does," She sighs happily. "It's perfect here."

They keep on talking as they dig further into their meal, the conversation free and easy and light, and she couldn't help but notice that there was something different with Athrun. When she talked, he listened, really listened. Everything that she said held weight and meaning to him, even if it was just her opinion on film, music, and pop culture, anything and nothing at all. He seemed to genuinely care about what she thought and felt when no one else before had even bothered to ask. He made her feel completely and totally comfortable with him and thus when it came the inevitable question – about why she had run away - she felt safe enough with him to be honest.

"I hate my life," She admitted, and it already felt as if a great heaviness had been lifted, just by the simple speaking of the words aloud to another soul.

Athrun's brow furrowed and he studied her carefully. He had expected a nasty little disagreement with her father. He hadn't been prepared for this; for such an honest and dire statement or the unchecked misery in her voice as she said it. "Wow, I had guessed that you might have been unhappy before to have done something so drastic as run away…was it really that bad?" Athrun asked, out of genuine concern.

But she had missed that compassionate timbre in his question and an instant wall went back up. The world was in the midst of an economic crisis and she wondered if he thought she was a downright spoiled brat to complain about her privileged life when there were so many others struggling to merely survive. "Of course, there are many benefits to my life that I won't pretend to deny," She said in a coolly diplomatic tone. "I'm fortunate that my father has a successful business and I have been able to enjoy many of the finer things in life. And for that, I am forever grateful."

"I'm sure you are," He replied, fixing his measured gaze upon her. "But there's a lot more to life than just the 'finer things'. In fact, I would argue that the most important things in life are pretty basic, like good friends and your health. And, unfortunately, its those things that anyone – from the poorest to the most well-to-do – might go their entire lives without."

"Yes, exactly," She said, stunned and a little overwhelmed that someone at last identified with her. For years, she'd grown increasingly unhappy with her life, but there was a duel guilt that always silenced her from voicing her complaints: firstly, in not wishing to disappoint the father that placed great expectations on her; and secondly, in not wanting to complain when she frequently saw the situation of others so much less fortunate than herself. Still, for her, it had always been about more than just money and finances, the labels on her clothing, and social standing. She was relieved and overjoyed to realize that Athrun seemed to understand this too.

He offered her an encouraging smile. "So what do you think it is that you hate specifically?" He asked, gently. "If you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to answer-"

"No, I do. I do want to tell you. It's just…" She paused, considering his question. Though this profound frustration, this acute desperation, coursed through her as deep as the blood in her veins, it was difficult to articulate her feelings to someone else. It was hard to know where to even begin, especially when she had to be careful about what she said.

"I can remember that there were happy and carefree times, especially in my childhood. But when I grew older, it became clear I was expected to take over my father's business. It's been in our family for generations and seeing as I'm his only child, I really didn't have a choice in the matter. And since then, everything in my life has been so controlled, from my day-to-day affairs, to my education, to my public appearances, to every last corner of my social life and who I was allowed to spend my time with." She responds and even though she knows still hasn't told him who she really is, that she's omitting a very big part of this story, all of what she saying is fundamentally the truth. "I'm not never even sure if I can use the term "my life", as I've never thought of it as mine. So little of what I do - in fact, hardly anything at all- is of my own choosing."

"That really does sound difficult," He softly agreed. "Not having any say in your own life whatsoever? It seems criminal."

"Only in its cruellest form." Cagalli took a deep breath, wondering if she'd said too much or if she should disclose the remainder. So far she had voiced complaints about her schedule, the monotony and stress of her life, but did she dare confess the rest, the emotional messy part that would leave her so bare? Yet, now that she had started, the words were flowing from her with such clarity and candour they couldn't be stopped. And Athrun was so empathetic, looking at her with such openness and sensitivity, that she didn't want to stop them even if she could.

"It might not sound like it, because of how busy I usually am and how I'm surrounded by people all the time, but it's all terribly lonely too," She quietly admitted and she can't bear to look at him so she stares at her feet instead. "I feel isolated from the world, from my own father even. He's a good man, of course, it's just that sometimes I can go days, weeks even, without seeing him. And while I've been exposed to hundreds of wonderful things thanks to him, there are thousands more I've been held back from, like this right here." She motioned around them before meeting his gaze again. "Like sitting on a park bench as the world goes by, enjoying a wonderful meal with a dear friend."

Athrun's heart suffused with warmth at her words and he wondered if she even realized what she had said or the effect it had. Either way, he knew it pleased him a lot much more than it should have that she spoke of him with such tenderness.

"I think the most difficult part of it all, though," She says, continuing, "is that I go around playing this role and it's nothing like the person that I am inside. And I just had this moment of clarity where I realized that I couldn't handle pretending anymore or having to be with people that I couldn't stand for a second longer." She released a long, steadying breath. "...And so I ran away."

"And now what?" He asks.

"I don't know." She shrugs. "I'll have to go back eventually. I realize that. But I've tasted freedom now, a little of it anyway, and I'm not ready to give that up. Not yet, at least."

"Alright," he said. "So, I've shown you some of the town. But what would you like to do now with your freedom?"

"I want to…do something exciting, just actually...live for once. All I know is that I won't stand for having run away for nothing."

"Okay, I have an idea then," He proposed. "How about this: you said there's a thousand things you've been held back from, that you've never had a chance to do and that you never get to decide things for yourself. So why don't we make this more than sightseeing? Why don't we make a list of 'firsts', all the things that you've always wanted to do but no one would ever let you."

"That's…That's…" She broke off into a trill of giddy laughter. "That's absolutely brilliant. But I'd have to have time to think, of course. It's been so long since anyone's asked me what I wanted."

"You had better get used to it. From here on out, it's all about you." He said, and his eyes light up. "And I think I know what we should do in the meantime."

Without telling her what he had planned for them next, Athrun lead his companion to their latest destination, to the pier where all of the boats in town were docked. They quickly move past all the neatly lined vessels until they reach the very last one at the end. It was certainly not the biggest of all the boats that were there, but it was definitely the most beautiful. It bobbed in the water steadily and serenely, gently going up and down with the rolling waves beneath it. Its once-white hull may have been worn a bit, but she thinks that the visible signs of it old age only made the boat even more lovely, in a natural and rustic sort of way that stood in contrast to the gleaming, artificial feel that brand-new boats often set off. It had also wooden tops that were a rich, dark reddish mahogany color and an old-fashioned ship steering wheel, which were completed with billowing, bleach-white sails that hung loose in the gusty sea breeze.

"This is mine. I got it as a gift when I was fifteen," He explains to Cagalli as they both stare at the boat. "Earlier, you kept on saying how much you long for freedom, and I personally never feel freer than when I'm here, out riding the sea with her, so I thought it'd be perfect for you." When he speaks of his vessel, his voice unmistakably has traces of enthusiasm and pride, but his excitement dims a bit as he adds, "Of course, I realize it will probably be something of a letdown for you after what you've been cruising around on, but-

"Are you kidding me?" She interrupted. "This is beautiful. I'd love to. I love it." Her answer took him by surprise, and he's a bit speechless as she goes on, "I've been on yachts, yes, but they're too big and impersonal. I've always wanted one exactly like yours but father would never allow it. Says there unsafe. In fact…." She trailed on, her face growing animated with realization, "I've never been out on one quite like this before."

It only took him a moment for the meaning behind her words to sink in. "Ah, an inadvertent first," He says, a little proud. "Let's get this checked off your list then."

He goes onto the boat first and turns around to help her down, but she surprises him yet again as she manages to gracefully land on the deck all on her own, without any of his help at all. "You can slip your shoes off," he told her, as he takes off his. "In fact, I'd recommend it. The deck can be slippery."

"Good," She answered, as she slips her shoes off. "I love going barefoot."

"I should also probably mention that the ship is set up for single handing. So I think it's best if I take reins at first – wouldn't want us to get into an accident, now, would we?" He teased, flashing a small smile that displayed a tantalizing hint of a dimple. He then gets busy untying lines, unfastening sail covers, and preparing everything he has to. The moment that they finally reach open waters, he flips a cleat and pulled the winch until the white sail majestically rose, setting high against the setting sky. Almost immediately, the wind took their sails and they were off, each drifting into their own private thoughts.

To Cagalli, it was almost a sensory overload. The sights of the sea, which seemed to stretch out for eternity. The smell of the fresh air, which was so unlike the smog of the city. The sun warming them overhead. The wind combing through her hair and caressing her cheeks. It was all perfection. No wonder he went out so often. It truly was magical.

However, she thought, as her gaze shifted to the left, the sea and the sun could not compete with the man himself, who had shown himself to be more kind and gentle than anyone else she had ever known in her nineteen years of living. He stood at the wheel just to her side, his eyes focused on the ocean, while she remained at the rail, trying to study him in greater detail. He had undone the first few buttons of his shirt, affording her glimpses of taut skin and hard muscles beneath. She got the distinct impression that, were it not for her presence, he would have likely shed the shirt entirely, and it was a thought that made her cheeks burn.

"Are you alright there?" He suddenly asks, turning to look at her. "You've been really quiet."

"I'm fine," She quickly covered as she prayed that he hadn't caught her staring. "I was just thinking about how right you were. It is freeing being out on this boat. Thank you for sharing it with me."

He had felt her eyes upon him as solidly as a touch but when he'd turned to her, wondering what she thinking, this was the last thing he'd expected to hear. He had only just been thinking how fortunate he was to have her crash into his life, after having been alone in the cottage for nearly a year now. And now, there she was, thanking him. It seemed backwards and he thought that he should tell her as much, but instead he simply said, "Your welcome." Changing the subject, he requested, "Tell me more about yourself."

"More?" She asked, her soft-pursed lips curving into a smile. "I thought I already talked your ears off. Haven't you heard enough?"

"No. That would be impossible."

His sincere desire to know more of her was flattering. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Tell me more about your childhood. You talked it about briefly before."

She smiled, letting nostalgia wash over her. "Life was better then. Everything was easier, less strict. Of course I still had a nanny and there were still rules that I had to follow, but I was spoiled and indulged by my father. And," She said, a hint of wistful sadness creeping into her voice, "behaviours thought improper at nineteen were much more acceptable as a child."

He nodded, reading between the lines; she got away with more as a kid, and therefore was able to be more truly herself.

"I was a sort of tomboy too and, believe it or not, was allowed to be – though I drove my father insane with how often I ran around and played only with boys. I'm sure I must have dirtied hundreds of dresses and drove off at a least a dozen different babysitters."

He laughed and watched her as she recounted more stories. Out here in the sun, her hair was like liquid gold and, beneath her long lashes, her eyes sparkled with mischief as she described all the misadventures of her youth, of all the times she got herself in trouble. He wanted to know more, to hear even more stories, because she just seems so endlessly fascinating, but she ultimately had her own ideas. "Alright," She says abruptly at the end of one of her tales. "Enough about me. It's my turn."

"At the wheel?" He asked, raising his eyebrows curiously.

"No." She clarifies. "That's not what I meant, though I would like to later...if it's alright with you. What I meant, though, was that it's my turn to ask you questions."

"Okay," He answered, recovering his focus to lean casually against the wheel. "Go ahead."

"What was your childhood like?"

"Well…" He begins, shrugging. "There's not much to say, really. I had a pretty normal upbringing. I was born and raised here. And I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

"Wow," She mumbles in awe. "I've only ever lived in the city. I can't imagine it. What was it like?"

"It was nice, being able to know everyone in the village," He says, smiling, as he thinks back on his own youth, which was so different from hers. "Everyone here is like extended family, always watching out for each other. And it was great having so much free space to run around as a kid, you could just play and goof off with your friends and not have to worry about anything in the world. Plus, we were close enough to the city that we could always drive in for a weekend if we wanted, but were also far enough that we could still enjoy the countryside in peace."

"So you've been here your whole life then, huh?'

"No, actually. I only came back here recently." He explains. "My family moved back to the PLANTs – where my parents were originally from - when I was seven. But even when we were away, we could never bear to sell the property. So we kept it and we used to visit every now again whenever we could – like during school holidays or summer vacations."

"Used to?" She asks, noting his use of the past tense.

He's impressed at how perceptive she is, even though he wishes she hadn't been. "My mother passed away a few years ago. Father and I stopped visiting as much after that."

"I'm so sorry, Athrun," She offered in quiet consolation, instinctively reaching out to touch his shoulder to offer him support. "I…I didn't know."

"Don't be. It's been such a long time since it happened and I have a lot of nice memories of her. She's actually the one who taught me how to sail back when I was a kid." He then smiles at her. "Now c'mon. Ask me something else."

He's changing the topic and she can tell that, but she doesn't want to push him if he's not ready, especially when he's never pushed her to divulge her secrets. So she obliges his request. "Alright. Do you think that I can have my turn at the wheel now then?"

"Oh, I'm not too sure about that," Athrun said. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes as he voiced the one statement he was certain would rile her. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

She stood her ground. "You promised."

"Did I?" He continued their little game. "I don't recall."

Cagalli stopped beside him, deciding to try a new approach. " Pretty please?" She asked sweetly, her eyes hopeful.

Even though he pretended otherwise, he knew that he was powerless to say no to her. And so he surrendered, making room for her at the controls and handing over the wheel. Nevertheless, she was an admitted novice, so he stood directly behind her to offer his guidance the entire time. Once she was finally comfortably at the helm, the boat easily cut through the waters, joyously dancing over the waves. "This is amazing," she exclaimed into the wind. "I could do this all day!"

Her enthusiasm was contagious but, in her utter abandon, she was too loose a hand at the helm and they were slowly, but surely, drifting off course. "Hey! You're a little too free there," He laughed as he stepped closer into her, reaching around her shoulder to guide her hand against the wheel. "Here, you need to have a firmer grip."

His hand lingered on hers to ensure that she had the proper hold. Considering how independent and driven she usually was, any other time in her life her entire focus would have been on showing him she could correctly maneuver the ship without anyone's help. But at the particular moment, her awareness was wholly centered on his warm, hard body pressed against her back, his cool breath dancing on her neck, his muscled forearm brushing over hers, and the palpable chemistry that passed between them as he held her hand at the wheel.

She needed to regain control of herself, at least try to explain her embarrassing blunder at the helm. But it was nearly impossible to think with him so close. "I'm – I'm sorry…. I didn't mean to– "

She turned her head to face him and the words were suddenly trapped in her throat. He'd been looking down at her and, now that she'd tilted her neck back, she'd somehow manage to make the situation worse. They were now face to face, their mouths mere inches apart. If he leaned in closer, there'd be no distance between them left at all.

Athrun steps away instead, putting some distance back between them as he announces, "I think we should probably get back now. It's getting pretty dark and it's not safe."

Cagalli was taken aback for a moment, feeling the loss of his nearness immeasurably. "Yes," she finally managed, relinquishing the wheel to him. "You're right, I think so too." They had been sailing the coastline for nearly two hours and logically, now was a good a time as any to go back, yet for some reason she felt somewhat disappointed that it was over. Regardless, he sets them back on course to the pier and towards home, where they retire for the rest of the day and prepare for tomorrow.