The First Day of School

Vustgaarde University, Sanc Kingdom

August 9th, AC 198

91-45-75-01: You were wonderful up there today. It was good to see you again. I'll see you when school starts.

"Heero?" Relena instinctively uttered as she looked up from her phone and scanned her surroundings.

She glanced around at the dining hall. It was a large space with a lot of people but if he was there, she would find him. That is, unless he didn't want to be found.

The Dining Hall of Vustgaarde University was a massive room nearly 300 feet long and 150 feet wide. It was three stories tall, supported by ornate columns with gothic vaults made of sandstone and lined with marble. The windows on the top level were stained glass depicting the ancient kings, emperors, and saints of Sanc, Belgium, Sweden, and the Holy Roman Empire. One of them, Relena was told was her great great great grandfather. The second and first floor windows were made of clear glass, held steady with black iron muntin. A series of massive chandeliers, six feet by six feet illuminated the space. Fifteen long tables ran along the length of the room, flanked on both side by an uncountable number of chairs, each perfectly spaced from the next. The floor was made of an ancient wood, from the forest of Kolmården and in the aisles between the tables was a red velvet carpet that ran the length of the room.

The special on the menu was changed each day. Patrons could take a menu from the usher on their way in or inquire about their options from the waiter that would come by and take their order. Most of the staff were undergraduate students with two senior chef and one executive chef running the kitchens and one expediter overseeing the operation in the Dining Hall itself. Once a month of the second and fourth Sunday, the kitchen would serve pizza and sundaes respectively.

Normally, during the school year, the Dining Hall was exclusive to students, professors, and employees of the university but during the summer months it was a restaurant open to the general public.

Despite, the occasion of the press conference, the Dining Hall was considerably empty. To Relena's right were the reporters and photographers, keeping a surprisingly respectful distance, on fear of being thrown out, she surmised. Behind her were the university brass, enjoying themselves.

"Oh just ignore them," Helen said to Relena.

Helen was one of the girls she had met on the tour of the school the press conference. She was a tall brunette, a little bookish, but with a quick wit, which Relena liked, and stunning eyes. She along with Freya, Tanya, and Matilda, whom she learned was the sister of Quatre, decided to go for lunch after their tour had ended.

"Well hold on," Freya said as she looked over at the reporters and their cameras. "It's not everyday that I might end up on the news. Let me enjoy this."

Relena smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"She's not worried about them," Matilda said. She was quite the perceptive one.

And quick, much like her brother. Before Relena even knew it, Matilda had leaned over and read the message on her phone.

"Ooh, who's that from?" Matilda inquired.

"Nothing," Relena said as she tucked her phone away into her pocket. "No one."

Heero stood in the shadows of one of the alcoves, between a large column. Staring at her, hiding from her, like he always did in those early days. During the war, in a time when he had purpose, he managed to delude himself into thinking that his observations were merely tactical and that his fascination with her was for the good of the mission. He had grown since then, dispensed himself of his childish illusions. But what was left? He wasn't quite sure.

He had always known, even back then when he deemed it irrelevant, that she was stunningly beautiful. The portrait of a princess, even if she didn't know it at the time. She was an aristocrat and he was a peasant boy. She had only grown more beautiful with time. She wasn't a girl anymore. She was a beautiful woman, the desire of men across the universe, and envy of all girls, even the ones that shared a meal with her at that very moment.

"You know, when I said I wanted you to keep an eye on her, I didn't mean it like this," Noin said as she approached him from behind.

"She's busy, I don't want to interrupt," Heero said flatly.

"She'll make time for you," Noin said. "I guarantee it."

"She shouldn't have to," Heero replied. "I saw the way she was today when I helped her out of the car. Pulse racing, shortness of breath. She's still afraid of me. I don't blame her. How many times have I threatened to kill her?"

"I think she's forgiven you for that."

Had she? He wondered. Of course she had. That's who Relena was. She was kind and loving. It was in her nature. She was the embodiment of peace, a model for future generations. He was a figment of the past, an ugly reminder of humanity's worst mistakes. No, he didn't doubt her capacity for forgiveness. He doubted his own worthiness of such a blessing.

"I showed up," Heero said. "You said you had something for me."

Noin sighed and shook her head. "Alright, down to business I guess."

She handed him a hefty unmarked manila envelope.

"What is it?"

"Course requirements."

Heero opened up the envelope and took out a two page fold out. He quickly read through the introduction and realized what this was. Bureaucratic bullshit. He looked into the envelope once more and found a bunch of spiral bound notebooks.

"You got three weeks."

Heero paused for a moment.

"Mission accepted."

The Valknut, Preventers Headquarters, Brussels

The day before the beginning of fall semester

"He broke the guy's nose?"

Noin threw up her hands in the air. She sighed deeply as she leaned back in her chair.

"What can I say? It was non-lethal."

The office was clean and austere. Bullet proof glass on every side, overlooking a war cemetery across the street. There was a barricade that kept cars from loitering in front of the building and armed guards patrolling the perimeter. Even still a well placed RPG or even a Leo's 105mm rifle would tear right through her office, instantly killing her. There were those in the organization that thought it was her folly. Hubris. But to Director Une, it was a show of strength, a symbol, a message, and a warning to those who would oppose or seek to undermine the precarious peace that had been achieved at the cost of untold devastation. The world may have eyes on her, but she had eyes on the world too.

She sat facing outward, staring at the cemetery across the street as she so often did. It was a cloudy day. The rain would come soon. She could feel it in her bones. It reminded her of Mr. Treize. For she felt him too in her bones. Forever and always. Although she missed him desperately, in a way, she was glad he was dead. This world was not for him. And she knew that he never intended to live to see it. Men like him and Heero Yuy belonged to another age. A warrior past, proud and noble, but ultimately obsolete.

"You passed him anyway?" Une asked suspiciously as she spun her chair around to face Noin.

"It's one broken nose," Noin said, trying to play off the incident. "And Inis is going to be fine."

"You want to use him as a bodyguard, yet this is the one field where he struggles," Une said as she picked up her tablet from the top of her desk and began to scroll through the document on screen. "Shooting, excellent. Hand-to-hand combat, superb. Reconnaissance and intelligence gathering, possibly the best in this organization's history. But you want to use him as a bodyguard?"

"Well, you know Heero—"

"Yes, I do," Une interrupted. "I could use him for so much more. This thing brewing in the South Pacific for instance."

"He's not interested," Noin replied.

"The princess doesn't need protection, she's attending a university, in the Sanc Kingdom no less," Une said dismissively as she threw down the tablet. "There are far more pressing threats. And there are fewer and fewer good men to face them these days."

"You mean soldiers."

"Call them what you like. It doesn't change who they are. What they are."

"Katerina…" Noin said sternly as her gaze sharpened. "We owe it to them… They fought for us. They risked their lives…"

"They would do it again, if we asked them to."

"Which is precisely why we can't," Noin said softly yet earnestly. "They deserve better. They deserve a chance to choose. To heal…"

"I gave him that opportunity a year ago," Director Une said, turning to face the window once again.

"No, you gave him a chance to be your symbol, to be your pawn," Noin replied. "That's not what I'm talking about. Give him a chance to find meaning."

"There is no meaning."

Noin sighed once again and shook her head. She felt for her friend. At the end of the Eve Wars, they had grown close, commiserated over their loss. But then, miraculously, out of the cold emptiness of space, he appeared. The Tallgeese, a phoenix from the flames. And in an instance, all her lost dreams; revived. She understood Une's pain, she understood that deep sense of loss, that unshakable emptiness, and the cold rage that ceaselessly stalked her. Not that Zech's return was painless or without turmoil. They were separated by worlds. Separated by circumstance. Separated by duty. Take care of her, he said. How could she refuse? Even if it pained her every second she was away from him. But she thought about the alternative. She thought about Une and Treize. Would she trade places with her? No, not for a second.

Noin noticed the little silver frame that was turned down on her desk. She picked it up and turned it around. A girl with red hair and his charismatic smile. His eyes. How painful it must be for her to see him in her every time. Yet a blessing all the same. She placed it back down on her desk, upright.

"Go see your daughter. It's what he would want."

Route 28, near Vustgaarde

The next day

The sun had risen past the treeline and was now shining brightly above them. It looked warmer than it was. It had rained the night before and the smell of the fresh storm still lingered in the air. A residual westwardly wind still occasionally blew passed them as they made their way along the empty road towards Vustgaarde. Every time this happened, without fail, one of the girls would complain about it and would ask Freya to pull over so that they could put up the roof of the convertible. But Freya was in no mood to stop.

Relena wasn't bothered by the cold. She had lived in these parts all of her life. In her reckless youth she had spent many nights up near the north sea, on the beaches near her home, spending endless nights drinking and partying with her friends. The coldest place she had ever been was when she was trapped on the Battleship Libra. Nothing could come as close to the feeling of dread and numbness caused by that kind of sterile cold. To her, wind was just a sign of life, a constant reminder that the world was moving and would continue to move. The brief momentary unpleasantness aside, it meant that things would change and that things could change.

But the weather was the least of her concerns. She was focused on her phone and the cryptic text message that she received after her press conference at the university. Was that Heero? Of course it was. Who else could it have been? She didn't recognize the number and it wasn't listed in any public directory. And if there was one person who could find out what her private phone number, known only to a few of her closest confidants; he could. Perhaps, she was merely using her amateur detective reasoning to rationalize what she wanted to believe to be true. Whatever the case, she wanted nothing less but for him to text her back. She had spent a dozen messages to him. None of which he replied to. She supposed it didn't matter very much now, it was the first day of school and he would be there. Wouldn't he?

"Who ya waiting on?" Freya asked mischievously as she took her eyes off of the road for a second.

"What? No one, my assistant," Relena replied awkwardly.

"Is it that cute guy you were photographed with the day of the press conference?" Tanya asked.

"You mean her driver?" Helen asked.

"He wasn't her driver!" Tanya shot back. "That was his car, wasn't it, Relena?"

"So, who is he?" Freya asked.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Relena said haughtily, affecting a mischievous tone of her own as she tucked her phone away and folded her arms across her chest.

"Oh, come on," Tanya begged.

"I know who he is," Matilda said disinterestedly, staring out at the road ahead.

Relena's eyes widened. "You better not say anything if you know what's good for you!"

Relena turned around and reached for Matilda before she was blocked and restrained by Tanya and Helen.

"Whao! I've never seen this Relena Peacecraft before," Freya laughed as she tried to focus on her driving.

"Now I'm really curious as to who he is!" Tanya said.

"Yeah, me too. It's not fair that you know, Matilda. Come on, who is he?" Helen asked.

"Yeah Matilda, spill! Who is this guy that he can get under the skin of the great Relena Peacecraft, daughter of King Marticus, Vice-Foreign Minister of the Earth Sphere Unified Nation, and Queen of the World?" Freya asked.

Matilda stared back at Relena. Relena returned her look with a grave yet desperate expression as if pleading with Matilda to keep quiet about this.

Sensing Relena's desperation Matilda answered, "I'm sorry, but I cannot betray the confidence of my queen."

The other three girls collectively groaned.

The lecture hall was a large semi-circular theatre. It could fit up to 400 people at any one time, 500 if people were willing to sit in the aisles and along the edges of the room. It was paneled with oak with a lacquer finish, with lights along the steps, and a 40 foot digital display capable of 3D holographic projections sat behind the lecturer's podium. The seats were all fitted with leather cushions and a built-in touchscreen surface for note taking and following lecture slides should any student forget to bring their computer. Such was the duality of Vustgaarde university, at once a bastion of heritage and tradition and a champion of progress and innovation.

Relena and her friends took seats on the seventh row center. A crowd quickly gathered around her. The questions and the requests for autographs and photos began immediately. Beyond the immediate circle that had formed around her, there were onlookers, people who weren't even enrolled in the class, watching curiously from the doors. Relena was polite and friendly, but she made it a point to turn down the requests for autographs and photos. Those around her, who spoke to her, though disappointed, understood. However this did not stop those on the far edges of the lecture hall from snapping opportunistic photos and videos with their phones.

Heero was among those taking photos. Although he took very few photos of Relena herself. He was more interested in her new group of friends, those currently accosting her, and those sneaking photos from a distance. He didn't even have to be stealthy about it. So mesmerized were the people in that room by Relena's charisma and warm presence that they took no notice of him. He planned to run his photos through facial recognition software and cross reference that with the school's database to see if there were any outliers and potential threats.

After about fifteen minutes, the professor showed up and took his place at the podium.

"Alright, alright, settle down," he said in a slightly cranky voice.

The professor was an older fellow, mid-fifties to early sixties, slim frame, with white hair and a mustache. He wore a black sweater vest with a red tie tucked in, typical of many professors. Despite his seemingly frail disposition, his voice carried.

"Yes, we have a very special student with us this semester," he continued. "This is probably why this class, History and Conflict, which averages around 100 students at the beginning of the semester and dwindles to 65 by the end is filled to the rafters! And as much as I would love to think that you are all here for my brilliant insights and inspired lecturing style, I am old and wise enough to know better."

He reached into the pants pocket and pulled out his glasses. After blowing on it a couple of times and wiping it down with his sweater, he put them on.

"So, to those of you who aren't actually enrolled in my class... get the hell out!"

Slowly but surely, a large portion of the crowd started to make their way out of the lecture hall. Once they had gone, the lights dimmed and the main display turned on.

"Now, let's get some of the more mundane business out of the way. I am Professor Isaiah Scharenberg. This is a first year survey course that will cover the gamut conflicts, from the prehistoric ritual warfare of the earliest hunter-gatherer societies, to the world-wide conflicts of the early twentieth century, and finally to the transnational conflicts of recent decades to which our great guest of honour, Miss Relena… Peacecraft or Darlian, I always forget," the professor said in a half-mocking half-playful tone.

"Just Relena will be fine," she replied sheepishly.

"Hmm, how humble," Professor Scharenberg remarked. "Our great guest, Relena, played such an integral role in resolving. It is a true honour to have you in my class. Please feel free to contribute at any point in this course. Shake things up a bit, bring this stuffy old codger back down to earth."

The old professor managed to get a few laughs out of his students, including Relena.

"Your grades will be based off two essays, collectively worth fifteen percent of your final grade, a midterm worth thirty-five percent, and a final worth the remaining fifty percent. Office hours are Tuesdays, 2:45PM to 4PM, and Wednesdays 9AM to 10AM. Not that it matters, none of you will come see me anyway. Now, onto the good stuff..."

The first slide appeared on the main display as well as on their touchscreen desks.

War is merely the continuation of politics by other means.

"Now, who can tell me the author of this quote?"

There was a silence in the room. For several moments, no one dared say anything. The class began to look to Relena. She felt embarrassed. She just wanted to be another student in the crowd. But if no one else was going to say anything, she supposed then she would have to. But before she could utter the words, a voice came from the back of the classroom.

"Clausewitz."

That voice. That unmistakable voice.

Relena turned sharply to look. He looked right back at her. He was here. He did come after all. Thank god….

"Very good," Professor Scharenberg said in a congratulatory voice. "We have a student of war here. Now tell me mister..."

There was a moment of silence before a reply came.

"Heero, Heero Yuy."

Relena's eyes widened. He was using his name? Why? Was this for real? Did that mean he was finally going to stay?

"Interesting name. We'll have to come back to that later. Now Mr. Yuy, would you agree with Clausewitz?"

"No."

"Care to defend your position, Mr. Yuy?"

"Because war is not simply a tool of governments and revolutionaries. It is not merely political. It is within our nature. To be human is to war."

The entire lecture hall fell silent. Heero caught Relena staring at him, giving him a nasty glare. Of course an answer like what would piss her off. He knew that as well as anyone. Then why did he say it? Did he believe it? There was a time in his life when he genuinely did. But a year ago, he had a choice. A choice between war and her. If he believed the words that he just uttered, then he would've been like Wufei and joined Mariemaia's army. Instead, he chose her. He chose her. Perhaps, he just wanted her to know it.

"Interesting answer," Professor Scharenberg finally said. "Not exactly how I would put it, but you are not entirely wrong. In this course, we will look past the narrow constraints of modern conflict and delve deep and take a look at other forms of warfare that have existed. Some of which, you will discover are not at all political."

The rest of the lecture consisted mostly of Professor Scharenberg talking and going over the general outline of the course. Relena had absorbed an enormous amount of information. Much of it was new to her. She was of a generation where war was the primary means of achieving political goals. To think that war could be something entirely else was utterly shocking to her.

Heero on the other hand had learned much of this through Doctor J, who forced him to read Clausewitz, Thucydides, Machiavelli, and Sun Tzu when he was eight years old. He knew all of the great thinkers of war and very little of the information in this course was new to him. Although admittedly he had never experienced these writers, events, and ideologies, through a liberal arts perspective. His education was far more utilitarian. But he wasn't primarily here for the education, he didn't take classes that he was interested in, although war was one of his few true interests. He took the class simply because Relena was in it.

When the lecture was over, Heero made it a point to try to get out as fast as possible. But Relena had been meaning to speak to him for the last three weeks and would not let him again away again.

"Heero!" She called out.

He stopped.

He could feel her footsteps approaching. He turned around.

"Relena."

He could already hear the whispers behind her. Is that the guy from the photos? It has to be. Look at the way they are looking at each other. Alright alright, come on, give them some space.

"Can we talk?" Relena asked.

They found a little rooftop garden on the top of the lecture hall they were just in. It was the perfect little get away for them to speak privately, away from curious ears and gossip hungry teenagers. They were having a hard enough time confronting each other to begin with. The last thing they needed was a live audience, making it that much more uncomfortable.

"You know, you better be careful if you want to keep a low profile," Relena walked alongside Heero, neither brave enough to make prolonged eye contact. "Matilda knows who you are. But I suppose that makes sense, she's Quatre's sister."

"Quatre's got a big mouth," Heero said.

"They are family, be happy for him that he still has one."

Heero knew that she was right. He wasn't really angry that Quatre had told his sister about his identity. He had learned over the course of the year that it didn't matter as much as it used to. The war was over and the identity of the Gundam pilots became more novelty trivia rather than actionable intelligence.

"How are you?" She finally asked.

"I'm fine."

"Fine, just fine? That's always your answer, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I came to see you," Relena said as she stopped walking.

Her hand reached up and grabbed a hold of his.

"In the hospital, after the battle, you had already left," she continued.

Heero looked away in shame.

"I don't blame you, Lucrezia and Katerina told me their plans," Relena said softly. "I knew that was not you and you would never agree to something like that. Still, I wish you would have at least let me know where you were going."

"I didn't know where I was going, I just… needed to keep moving."

"I could've helped. I wanted to." Her voice began to tremble. "But you never gave me a chance."

"You don't owe me anything," Heero said ruefully. "You saved the world. You don't have to save me."

"Heero…"

"The truth is I didn't know how to talk to you. I… I…" Heero stuttered.

"What, Heero?" Relena asked, desperately wanting him to say the next few words.

"I died in your arms that day. And when I awoke… I was nobody. I wasn't a soldier anymore, I wasn't a Gundam pilot, I had no identity. Everything I had ever known was gone."

He didn't know what he was saying or why he said it. He lost control. He had never lost control before. This was dangerous. Why burden her with his inner demons? They were his and his alone to suffer. Don't drag her into your mess, get it together.

"I know it's not the same but…" Relena began. "I decided to enroll here for similar reasons. I know what they call me, I know who they think I am, but I don't know, not really. I was a child when I was thrust into my current role, and in a lot of ways I still am. I didn't really have a choice in the matter. So in a way, I'm here to discover who I am as well."

"I'm glad," Heero said. "I know I was… a psychopathic maniac when we first met but know that I am glad… glad that things turned out so well for you."

"Don't give up hope just yet Heero. I haven't," Relena pleaded. "I know you can get through this. I believe in you. I always have. Can we start over?"

"Start over?"

"Hi, I'm Relena. Nice to meet you."