Chapter Six:

Hide and Seek

Where are we?

What the hell is going on?

The dust has only just begun

To form crop circles in the carpet

Sinking feeling

Spin me round again

And rub my eyes

This can't be happening

When busy streets a mess with people

Would stop to hold their heads heavy

Oily marks appear on walls

Where pleasure moments

Hung before

The takeover

The sweeping insensitivity

Of this still life

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth

Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs

- Imogen Heap, Hide and Seek

Heero stepped forward cautiously, still not quite believing what he'd heard. If there was a chance, even a slight one, that this woman spoke the truth, he had to find out. All this time, he'd been searching his soul for answers; now, one of those could be right in front of him. He urged the woman, silently, to go on. Thankfully, she needed no further prompting.

"My husband died 20 years ago, when the Alliance first attacked this colony," she spoke with a faraway look in her eyes. "He was part of a rebel force that tried to fight the occupation…"

Heero nodded in understanding. Hundreds of such factions had sprouted up all over the colony, each doing their best to counteract the Alliance's tyranny, which had imposed martial law on the colonies under the guise of "keeping the peace." It was one of these "terrorist" factions that had taken Heero and trained him, as a young child, to become a killing machine.

He shuddered as scattered memories flooded him. He shook his head to dispel them, but he could never quite make them go away.

"Our home was raided," the petite woman continued.

Heero noticed now how frail, how tired she looked. She had lovely hazel eyes, but they were clouded with sorrow. Her face was etched with deep creases, but suggested a strong, willful spirit. She had probably been quite beautiful, once.

"Shin was killed in front of me." Even now, two decades later, her eyes brimmed with tears. "And our two-year-old son was taken."

Heero swore under his breath. Of course, he'd heard countless stories like this before; they were all too common during the war. This woman's tale was nothing new, but it resonated with Heero nevertheless. Perhaps because they were both at least part Japanese. Perhaps because Heero knew that he was from around here, somewhere. And perhaps because part of him wanted to believe that he could be connected to her, somehow.

The woman had stopped speaking, and was studying Heero's face. He cleared his throat.

"What do you think happened… to your son?"

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

"I don't know," she whispered. "And not knowing… is what terrifies me. But I've never gotten an answer. I searched for him for years; I asked God to tell me why. It would give me some comfort if I knew, if I had an answer." She spread her hands helplessly. "But I still don't know. So every day, I worry. I still… I still believe that he's alive." She placed a hand on her chest. "Because I can feel him. I saw my husband die—I know he's gone, and won't ever come back. I felt my heart die along with him. But, Shiro…"

"Shiro?" Heero interjected.

"Shiro," she whispered. "My son. I can still feel him, so I know he's still out there. Somewhere." She peered curiously at Heero. "And you look so much like him, what I thought he might look like when he grew up… Shin and I are both of Japanese descent, and he had blue eyes. It was very unusual, but he passed that trait onto Shiro…"

Heero's eyes widened. The woman shocked him by breaking into a laugh.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I must sound like a crazy person. It's just… you just appeared here, right in front of me, and I'm still so startled. It's probably just a coincidence, but I've never seen anyone who resembles my family so much." She paused to study Heero's face once more. "What is your name, if you don't mind my asking? Are you from around here?"

Heero opened his mouth to answer, but paused when a few customers wandered in. He waited while the woman, whose name he still didn't know, fulfilled their orders. He dared not speak again until the patrons had gotten their coffee and trickled out. It was as if Heero was guarding some precious secret; he was right back in his soldier days, cautious to keep from being overheard.

"I should ask you the same question," Heero spoke once they were alone. "What's your name?"

He still had to be careful using his code name in the colonies. People knew it, knew what it stood for, and knew exactly who he was, both as a former Gundam pilot and Relena's guardian. Since Heero tended to keep a low profile, however, not everyone recognized his face; unlike Relena, who was both a politician and a celebrity because of her royal title, Heero took great pains to stay out of the public eye. His image wasn't plastered all over television screens and billboards, though the occasional photo of him traipsing behind Relena at some event would land in the odd gossip rag.

The woman bowed her head in a formal greeting.

"My name is Misaki Setsuna," she said, giving her name in the English order of first name, last name.

"Yorokonde," Heero responded. It's a pleasure. He realized that Misaki-san was still waiting for his name.

"I…" he began. He felt pressure mounting. What if, somehow, this was a trap? He was exhausted and delirious, but still cautious of giving himself away.

"I'll tell you," he continued. "But first, if you really think I could be your son… I'll need to see some proof."

Misaki appeared taken aback by this. "You mean… you think that you could be…" She let the question hang in the air.

Heero lowered his head. Already, he felt he'd given away too much.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "There's not much of my early childhood that I can honestly say I remember."

He saw Misaki's eyes spark with hope. Heero knew that hope would come crashing down if it turned out that he wasn't the one.

He drew a heavy breath and continued.

"To answer your earlier question, I am from this colony. I think. At least, that's what my, uh, caretakers told me." He scratched the back of his head. "Much of my childhood was spent here in this city." He wasn't about to tell this kindly woman how he'd passed his childhood, exactly. "I don't remember much before the age of four or five."

Misaki was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Oh, no, Heero thought— now he'd done it. This woman seemed to really believe her long-lost son had returned to her, and that he was none other than Heero. But what if she was mistaken? Heero thought this whole situation was too good to be true; in his experience, this type of thing usually was. How insane would it be if he waltzed into some café and just happened upon his long-forgotten birth mother? It was just too crazy of a coincidence, even though "crazy" was an apt word to describe his very existence.

He had beaten the odds in more ways than most would deem humanly possible. He had cheated death more times than he could count. He had fallen for a girl he'd, on multiple occasions, pointed a gun at, and had unwittingly made her fall in love with him. In an unexpected twist of fate, he had gone from being her attempted assassin to her protector, her teenage sweetheart to ex-boyfriend, and now her full-time employee. And though the action had certainly calmed down over the years, the life Heero led was not one for the faint of heart.

"Did you have foster parents, then?" Misaki was asking him, her voice shaking. "Were you adopted?"

Heero chose his words carefully. "I… was raised in foster care, yes. Until I was old enough to be on my own," he said. That was close to the truth; at least, close enough. "No one officially adopted me."

"And did you ever try to look for m— your mother?" Misaki stammered.

Heero hung his head.

"I was told my family was all dead," he spoke slowly. "And I've always believed it."

Misaki gasped. "But weren't you ever curious? Didn't you feel a longing to find out, to know where you came from?"

"Mochiron," Heero shrugged. "Of course." Years ago, Relena had even offered to help him by hiring private investigators. Heero had turned her down. He knew Relena empathized with him, having lost all of her childhood memories after the trauma of having her whole family assassinated. She felt that Heero owed it to himself to learn the truth about his life. While Heero understood her reasoning, he couldn't bring himself to begin what he figured would be a futile search. If Heero had been born into a normal, loving family, only to have it all torn apart, he really didn't want to know. What good would it do him now? His cards had been dealt to him long ago. There was nothing he could do to change his past, and knowing about it wouldn't change who he was in the present.

He wanted to make that abundantly clear to this mystery woman.

"I don't want to get your hopes up," Heero spoke slowly. "And I can't make any promises. I have no idea if I'm the person you think I am.

But if you have any sort of evidence, anything you can show me… I'll consider telling you more about me."

For the first time during their exchange, the older woman offered a smile, though she was still wiping away tears.

"I can show you," she whispered. "When can you come back? I'll have a break around 10. Or I could meet you back here this evening."

Heero hesitated. He knew that he couldn't commit to a set time. He had no idea what the rest of the day would hold for him, no idea what he and Relena…

Relena. He still had no idea where she even was, and had wasted precious time that he should have spent trying to find her.

Fresh panic washed over him. What if… he'd been lured here, somehow? If he'd been set up, and Relena was in danger? He'd already lingered for far too long.

He had to go.

"I'll be back when I can," he said in a rush as he crumpled his coffee cup and tossed it in the nearby trash. "Not sure when that will be. But I have to run."

Misaki looked shell-shocked, but recovered quickly.

"Well, you have my name. And you know where to find me," she said. "But please… don't wait too long. I'd like to get an answer, at last. I'm sure you would, too."

Heero nodded, having nothing more to say.

The early morning streets were now teeming with people on their way to work. Heero could only hope that he'd find Relena's face in the crowd.