Chapter 5

Emera examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She wore a dark button up blouse with a matching skirt, and her blue locks were softly curled into waves. This was the outfit that she had always wanted to wear for Yzak, but by a twist of fate she was wearing this for the first time on a date with her fiancé's best friend.

Emera would admit that she and Yzak had terrible timing. None of their dates had ever ended up as planned. In fact more than half of them were cancelled because of emergency council meetings or early ZAFT departures. And this was precisely the reason why the outfit had remained buried in her closet for the past year. In a twisted way, she felt as if she was cheating on Yzak, wearing this for this first time on a date with another man.

In the current state, the idea of marrying Yzak felt surreal. How could they possibly spend eternity together when they could barely spend more than a week in the same city? In a way she understood what Dearka had said. Two people may love each other, but love can't triumph over everything in life. Life is complicated and they all have different obligations to fulfill.

Yzak loved her; she didn't doubt that for a second. But she knew he didn't love her nearly enough to cast away his country and his responsibility to PLANT. But where would that leave the two of them? Was she willing to settle for a part-time husband, and living in constant fear of losing him? She didn't have an answer for that.

Emera took a last look at herself in the mirror before emerging from the washroom.

At the sound of the door opening, Yzak looked up from the newspaper spread open on his lap. His mouth nearly fell open in surprise at the sight of his fiancée.

"Yo—you," he babbled uncharacteristically, "you're—you're wearing that?"

She frowned, looking down at her outfit, before spinning around to inspect the back.

"You don't like it?" she asked worriedly, trying and failing to not sound crestfallen.

Yzak clammed his eyes shut. The issue wasn't that she didn't look great. It was in fact precisely the opposite: she looked too great.

"I think it's wasted on an idiot like Dearka." Yzak said dryly after a few moments.

She blinked. "So… you like it?"

"The outfit—yes. Dearka—no." He answered curtly, snapping his head the other way.

Emera broke into a sheepish grin. "You're jealous," she observed.

"Hmmph." He didn't say anything further, keeping his back turned to her.

"Yzak…" she started. He could be so childish at times, but she was comforted by the idea that the hotheaded captain cared enough about her to fuss over a simple outfit. "This date doesn't mean anything. I'm doing this as a favor to Dearka, that's all. I can change—"

"No." He spun around, grabbing her wrist in time to stop her from going back into the washroom. "It's fine. Just go."

Emera wrapped her arms around the silver haired man. She knew why he was upset; the same thoughts were running through her head only moments earlier. "I know, Yzak… I know… I want to be with you too." She nuzzled her head against his. "I want to go on a date with you. I want come home to see you. I just want to be with you. Those things sound so simple, but why do they feel impossible?"

"I know…" he whispered, unable to meet her gaze. He knew where this conversation was leading. She was going to ask him the question again, but he had no answer to give her. He didn't want to think about those things. He didn't want to choose.

Emera knew this, and didn't push the matter any further.

Dearka picked her up soon after—the two of them were meeting Millialia at a local café in half an hour and he wanted to straighten out the details with her prior to the appointment to avoid giving conflicting stories.

"So we met 6 months ago at a Council Gala, and I asked Emera to dance." Dearka said casually to the brunette as the three of them sat around a small table under a parasol shielding them from PLANT's artificial sun.

Emera gave Dearka a soft smile—one that she would probably have given to Yzak if she were here with him. "He was very charming. I couldn't say no."

Dearka returned her smile. "And things just took off from there. So Milly… how are things with you? When is your photo exhibition?"

"Tomorrow," she answered, taking a sip of her coffee. "Things have been pretty great. I'm really enjoying my job. I love travelling, and capturing the real world with my pictures, not just the images that people want to present."

"I'm really glad to hear that." Dearka said softly.

"What about you, Emera? If I'm not wrong, you're Emera Leitner—the Chair Woman's daughter?" The brunette asked politely, masking any uneasiness that she might have carried underneath.

"I am," she smiled, "I'm surprised you're able to recognize me especially when I'm dressed like this."

Millialia laughed. " I admit. I was a bit thrown off. You always seemed so professional on news broadcasts; I was surprised to see you dressed like an ordinary girl—if you can excuse me for being so blunt."

"None taken," Emera grinned, "it's good to be myself one in a while. I love my job, and I love my people, but some times I just want to be a normal person… and Dearka's great for that."

Dearka mentally patted her on the back for that comment. She was great at this, but he shouldn't have expected any less from her. She was a top-class politician after all.

"How do the two of you know each other?" Emera probed, knowing fully well of the story behind the two of them.

That question made the blonde and the brunette uneasy.

Millialia visibly tensed up, "I… uh… we met during the first war."

"When I… was taken prisoner by the Archangel. Milly was the one who looked after me…" Dearka continued.

The blue haired girl appeared to be curious. "Dearka… you changed sides during the war, didn't you? Was it—" she trailed off.

"I… uh…" Dearka couldn't answer. What was she trying to do? She knew the story better than anyone, having judged him at the end of the last war. If this woman could recite his file backwards and forwards, she could easily deduce that Milly was the reason.

"I see," Emera said softly, as if she had understood everything.

"You don't need to worry," Milly said quickly, looking slightly awkward, "there's nothing between us now. He's very happy with you."

Emera looked thoughtful, "I know it's not my place to ask… but… what happened between the two of you? The bond of going through a war together, I imagine, is stronger than any other kind of relationship."

She was trying to get Milly's side of the story, Dearka suddenly understood. This was to test their relationship, and to get Dearka the final closure that he needs.

"I won't lie," she looked squarely into the other girl's eyes. "He meant a lot to me, but I couldn't give everything up for him, and I couldn't ask him to do it for me. The best thing to do was to let go."

Emera turned her gaze to Dearka, who struggled to hide his anger, threatening to resurface. "That wasn't your decision to make." The blonde said at last, "You can't decide everything on your own. You should have talked to me."

"You should have known, Dearka. There was no future. I'm a natural, and you're a coordinator. You belong to PLANT and I belong to Earth. When push comes to shove and another war breaks out, you would return to PLANT to be by Yzak's side and to defend your home. What would have happened then?" She said almost tearfully, struggling to prevent the droplets from breaking free, "I'm glad you're happy, I really am. And I'm glad you're with Emera."

At that moment, Dearka knew how much she had loved him. She made the decision and took the burden herself to free him from the pain. She wanted him to hate her, to make it easier for him to move on, while she struggled silently.

"I hope you find happiness too, Milly." Dearka said at last. For both of their sakes, he had to let go. Hanging on would only make things harder for her.

Emera was silent when she returned home that night. Her thoughts were perplexed and scattered, and she made no effort to piece them together. She didn't want to know what her mind had to tell her.

The best thing to do was to let go.

Millialia's words reverberated, as she thrust her fist against the wooden door. The pain momentarily stopped her terrifying thoughts. She didn't want to think about it—about the possibility of losing Yzak.

But ultimately what choice would she have in the future? Was she cold enough to force Yzak to choose between her and ZAFT? Was that how she wanted their relationship to play out?

The simple answer was no. She loved him too much for that. Yzak would lose a bit of himself no matter what option he took. Emera refused to be the one to put him in that position.

But where would this leave her?