Author's note: As usual, I always have to begin with a sincere apology for taking so long to update. I know this chappie took incredibly long, but hey, one word that sums up my life over the past few weeks: BUSY! And besides that, this chappie is awfully difficult to write. I am glad to say I've put in time for all the different relationships: KxL, AxC, Kira-Cagalli siblinghood and some Kira-Athrun interaction (though not a lot). But the level of emotions in this chappie is soooooo terribly hard to control. I don't want it to come out as a sappy, mushy, unrealistic romance story. I want it to show how the characters really feel when they are faced with so many obstacles from the interior and exterior. So I've had a tough time trying to write this chappie. I can't say it's perfect, or realistic, but I've tried my best… arghh…. I'm keeping my fingers crossed really… especially because this chappie is very different from the others I've written so far. You may not like it; I may not be good at writing it, but I hope you'll bear with me for this one!
Oh and yes, thank you to everyone who brought to my attention the mistakes made in the previous chapter! As you can tell, I haven't been in a sound mind recently. Nah, just kidding. But, to be honest, for the past 70 chapters, I had Meyrin and Miriallia mixed up hundreds of times (no, I do not mix up the characters! It is impossible to mix up any GS or GSD character because they're so different and well-developed in their own way.) Just that I tend to mix the names up because they both start with M. So I might be thinking of Meyrin, when my fingers start typing Miriallia and vice versa. I've noticed it other times, and corrected it, but last chapter, I just completely missed it. So, to clarify things up, it should be Meyrin that receives the CD!
Kurie-tibiti: Thank you for the compliment and for always being patient with me even when I'm taking so long to update or when I make mistakes! Hope you will like this one too!
hardcoreGSfan: I can see you're a fan of pancakes and waffles :P Thanks for pointing out the error to me! I honestly didn't notice it until you brought it to my attention! Haiz, I'm being too careless!
PinkSugarDust: Thank you for your compliment! To be honest, I try not to force myself to write when I have writer's block because I never like what I end up writing. So I try to let it die down, or I drown myself in mystery, thriller and/or detective stories to get myself in the mood again, so I'm glad all the 'drowning' was worth it, since you liked the previous chappie! Ohhh, you like the psychological parts? I've always loved writing them (maybe that's why most of my fanfics end up full of angst…?) so I think it might be a sadist at heart… Hmm… anyway, if you liked the psychological parts in the previous chappie, you might like this one too, because there's quite a fair bit of it inside.
XienRue: Oh yes, I forgot to mention the Kira-Cagalli relationship in my author's note previously, but I definitely haven't forgotten it. Haiz, another careless mistake on my part. Anyways, there's definitely Kira-Cagalli stuff in this chapter, but unfortunately not a lot of bromance… some, but not a lot…
Magus-15IchiGo: Hehe, hope you'll like this chapter because I've got the romance and bromance in it, (although I have to admit the bromance doesn't appear a lot). And not sure if it's good or bad, but this chappie doesn't quite end with a cliffie too, so those who hate cliffies can celebrate once more! Ah yes, thank you for pointing out the mistake to me. I honestly didn't realise it! Too careless of me!
AAA: hehehe, thank god I didn't decide to end with a cliffie last chappie then! Oh, and don't worry, this one doesn't end with a cliffhanger either! So I'll be safe from your wrath!
Nitameicya: yup yup, I definitely won't forget the Kira-Caglli relationship. Careless of me to have left it out from my previous author's note! But don't worry, I've set aside time for it in this chappie!
Seiba Artoria: Okay, I admit, I doubted my decision about making Kira obey Athrun too, because it makes him very unlike the hard-hearted, cruel assassin he's been throughout most of this fanfic. But I just have to work on softening him up a little? And hopefully not too unrealistically? But anyways, yeah, I'm pretty keen on developing the bromance and romances too. This chappie has a little bromanc, not a lot unfortunately , because more time was set aside for the romances so… well, hope all the bromance and romance will add up to make it a chapter nice enough to read…
Chapter 71
He knew it. He could sense it.
The sudden burst of adrenalin coursing through his blood. The ringing in his ears. The way his senses were working on overdrive, picking up every little detail.
The guest room was situated at the back of the house, so that its single panelled window overlooked, not the main road, but a fenced backyard and beyond it, the neighbour's house. His sharp eyes made out movement in the neighbour's windows. A woman in the kitchen washing dishes, and on the upper floors, a teenager sitting on the window ledge sketching.
Two bodies.
In his mind, he saw himself pressing the barrel of a gun against the back of the woman's head, pulling the trigger. Her head snapping forward from the force of the bullet entering her brain; her body slumping to the ground beside the sink. The boy's look of horror when he saw the gun lifted and aimed at his brow. Touch of the trigger and the boy's body folded and slipped off the ledge, leaving behind a bloodstain on the glass.
Kira stalked across the room to the window and drew the curtains roughly, plunging the room into darkness. He shut his eyes, tried to will away the grotesque images.
They did go away. But his heightened senses could pick out the murmurings outside the guest room. People talking. More bodies. A woman's voice. It sounded like Lacus Clyne.
He felt again the sudden impulse to kill. Remembered the gun he had left at the edge of the kitchen table. Imagined picking it up and pointing it at her, the same way he had pointed his weapon at Flay Allster. A shot through her heart; blood streaking through the air in a splendid arc. A pause as she stared at him with shocked blue-grey eyes, and then she was falling. Not crumpling to the ground like the woman washing dishes, but sliding gracefully. She was beautiful – the way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him, the way she touched him – but all that was gone. She lay motionless on the ground, blood pooling around her body.
He remembered once he was on a mission was to kill one of Rau's rivals, and he had to kill the man's wife and kid too. As he lay hidden underneath the child's bed, ready to emerge, he had heard the woman telling the child a story. A story about a swan that rose from a lake every night and transformed into a princess. And here she was. Lacus Clyne. The princess who tried to rise from the lake, but he had shot her dead and turned the lake red.
But it wasn't red enough. It never is.
He turned the gun onto the rest of the occupants in the room. Killed them all. Painted the walls with bursts of red blood. Then there was Athrun Zala left. He pulled the trigger. Heard the sound of gurgling as the detective fell to the ground, the breath escaping his punctured lungs. But he was wrong – Athrun Zala wasn't the last to die. There, watching him with teary eyes, was the little blonde girl. He wanted to stop, to put his gun down. But he couldn't. He wanted more – he wanted to feel the slick blood on his fingertips, wanted to see that moment when the light faded out of someone's eyes. He raised the gun…
Kira clamped both hands over his ears and closed his eyes. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Go away. Go away. He tried to block out the voices outside the guest room, but still, the adrenalin surged through him, intensifying his senses, making him aware of the hot blood pulsing through the bodies of those on the other side of the guest room door. He wanted to spill that blood, to watch it flow and turn cold. He wanted it more than anything else.
In the dimness, he spotted the doorway to the adjoining bathroom and he fumbled his way there, feeling blindly against the wall for the light switch. He flipped it, stepped into the lit bathroom and slammed the door shut.
The bathroom walls were covered in white marble slabs, the floor in smooth white tiles. All polished so that they glimmered under the overhead light. He saw a streak of red – a blood splatter across the marbled wall. It was always difficult to get rid of bloodstains on marble; you had to use ammonia - he had learnt that from experience. But then again, using ammonia wasn't wise, because when the police converged on the scene, they could smell it right away. The bathroom wasn't a good place to kill somebody. But he needed to. He needed it so bad. To feel the tiles made slippery by the blood, to see the red swirl as the blood ran down the drain with the flowing water.
Stop it. Go away.
Kira knew instinctively that whatever he was going through was his 'side-effect'. It didn't happen often; he had learnt to dampen it down. It was like a disease, lying dormant under the surface. Like a thirst - as long as it was fed constantly, it kept itself hidden. And Kira did feed it constantly. Every mission, every time he was asked to kill someone, he was feeding that thirst, keeping it satisfied. But now and then, it emerged and turned him into a monster. As a team, they had learnt to cope with each other's side-effects. He could recognise Stellar's suicidal tendencies because she would finger the hilt of the knife she always kept strapped to her ankle, as if she wanted to yank it from its scabbard and bury it into her own heart. At first, they had bought her a tiny aquarium so that she could kill off the fishes in it whenever she felt suicidal – kill something else in order not to kill herself – but the plan had turned out even better than they had thought. Stellar hadn't been able to bring herself to do it; and she had learnt to calm herself down by simply watching the streaks of colour darting amongst the weeds.
As for Auel, they recognised his restlessness whenever he started pacing to and fro, all jittery and tightly wound. Like he was on drugs. He would disappear for hours, stalking the streets, looking for women to satisfy his hunger. They had learnt to overlook that, although Kira had made it clear that he was only allowed to visit the pubs and the motels where willing women hawked their wares. He was forbidden from attacking women on the street because they couldn't afford the police sniffing them down.
Sting was much easier to deal with. His need to move, to challenge someone else, was easily satisfied by walking into a bar, where there was bound to be a couple of young hotheads more than willing to toss snide remarks at him and take several punches for that. Or, if Kira and Auel were up to it, they would take Sting on, until the green-haired assassin's energy was all spent.
Kira's 'side effect ' didn't come on frequently like his teammates, but when it did, it was difficult to control. The first time it had happened, he had still been in the Facility. He had killed half a dozen of the kids sharing the same cell as him. He had been utterly shaken when he came back to his senses, but his trainers had been pleased. Another time, he had been in the middle of a mission. He was supposed to kill one man, but ended up killing seven. There was no way to stop him. Or so he thought, until one day, it had come on when he was in the pub Stellar worked at with the rest of his team. Auel and Sting had manhandled him into the bathroom, and he had nearly killed them in the process.
But it was Stellar who had calmed him down. She had locked Sting and Auel out of the bathroom despite their protests, leaving him alone with her. Unconcerned at all about the risk she was in. She watched him wreck the bathroom, then when he slumped to the ground, worn out, she held him close and talked to him until the impulse to kill faded back into its dormant state. Since then, she had always been the one who could control him, the one he turned to.
But he was alone now.
All alone, and out of control.
Tottering unsteadily to the sink, he wrenched the faucet, twisting it to the far right so that an icy blast of water emptied into the basin. He filled his palms and splashed the water against his face. The sudden coldness shocked him out of his thoughts for a second or two, but then he felt it again, the surge of adrenalin rising like the tide, the urge to fling open the bathroom door and charge out into the kitchen and kill everyone in the house.
All alone, and out of control.
He splashed another palmful of water onto his face, then another, and another, and finally dunked his head under the tap.
Shut up. Go away. Go away. Shut up. Go away.
It didn't help. Even though he could no longer hear the murmurings outside his room, he knew they were there. Nine bodies. Nine warm bodies filled with blood.
He ducked his head out from under the stream and stumbled into the shower. A quick twist of the tap and he was engulfed in a freezing cascade of water. He tilted his head up and let the water flow over his face. The tap had been shoved all the way to the right, but Kira kept up the pressure, hoping the flow of the water would get larger and the temperature lower.
The cold seeped through his skin - almost painful – and straight into his bones. He banished all the thoughts from his mind, forgot all about the blood and the nine bodies in the kitchen. Just concentrated on the numbing coldness and the pounding of each drop on his skin. He slid to the ground and sat there. Imagined the cold freezing the flow of his blood, stopping the adrenalin in its tracks. Imagined himself drowning, like in the many recurring dreams he had.
All of a sudden, a large shadow loomed over him and he was yanked bodily out from under the gushing waterfall.
"Jesus… What in the world are you doing?"
His brown hair was matted to his face and the water streaming down his face blinded him so that he couldn't see a thing. He coughed and spluttered. Tried to wipe the water from his eyes.
"Hang on."
Before he knew it, he was thrust under the shower again. But this time the water was warm.
"Stay there. It'll warm you up."
A man's voice.
He tried to get out from under the shower, but there was a hand holding him in place. The water felt so good on his abused body that he felt his knees giving way, no longer able to hold his weight. If it hadn't been for the hand around his elbow holding him up, he would have fallen. For a long while, he stood under the streaming water, and gradually began to feel his body again. First his face, then his shoulders, his hands, his fingers, his torso, his legs, his feet, his toes. Until he was warm again and the blood in him began its flow through his veins, this time without the frightening rush of adrenalin.
A hand reached for the tap and twisted it shut. The stream of water lessened in intensity until it formed a constant dribble which tapered off into nothing. Then he was wrapped in a large white towel and bundled out of the shower stall.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Kira groped blindly at the fleece around him, and wiped the water from his face. He glanced up, finally able to see, and met emerald eyes gazing at him with utmost bewilderment. Athrun Zala stood before him, drenched from head to toe, his clothes clinging to his lean body and his midnight blue hair stuck to the sides of his face. He combed his wet hair back with his fingers, scattering water droplets across the bathroom floor. "What the hell were you thinking?" He demanded for the umpteenth time, shaking his head. "Were you trying to freeze yourself to death? Jesus."
The assassin just stared.
"We heard the shower running," the detective continued, crossing his arms to still the tremors that were threatening to show themselves. The water had been cold, not just plain cold, but freezing cold, when he waddled into the shower and dragged the man out from under the shower. What in the world was he thinking? He studied Kira's face closely, convinced that the assassin was crazy. "You were in the shower for an hour. If we hadn't sensed something wrong and barged in here, you'll be dead from hypothermia."
Kira blinked. An hour? He had been in there for an hour? He had completely lost grip of reality and time. What seemed like minutes had turned out to be an hour. He shivered, suddenly aware of the cold that was setting in again.
"Athrun." A hand pushed the detective gently aside. Athrun shifted away to reveal Lacus Clyne, whose blue-grey eyes softened with sympathy and concern when she saw the assassin. "Don't ask questions now," she chided Athrun gently before turning her attention to Kira. "Come on into the room," she beckoned. "We've got dry clothes you can change into."
For a second, Athrun wanted to laugh – there was no way this man would obey any of Lacus' instructions – but he was proven wrong yet again when, to his utter confusion, the assassin took a small step forward, then another, and another and began to trail Lacus out of the room. There was uncertainty on the man's face; his violet eyes wide and innocent. It was the same look that had crossed his face when he had fled from the kitchen into the guest room. Athrun wasn't sure how to interpret the expression. He was like a child, vulnerable and apprehensive. But how could it be? How could he be the same person who had kidnapped Lacus and killed so many of his officers in cold blood?
He followed them out of the bathroom and lingered in the doorway, watching as Lacus motioned for Kira to sit on the bed, which he did obediently. Then she turned up the temperature in the room using the remote resting on the bedside table and returning to his side, tugged gently at the towel enveloping his body. "Let me take a look at your wound, alright?" she urged softly.
The assassin said nothing, but he allowed her to manipulate the towel without protest.
"Athrun, get the first aid kit from the bathroom," she instructed quietly. Athrun was unwilling to leave the two of them alone, but he relented when Lacus glanced over her shoulder, her blue-grey eyes narrowing.
He found the kit behind the bathroom mirror and set it on the bed beside the assassin. Kira didn't even glance at it; he was staring at a spot on the carpeted floor, as if by not looking at them, they would disappear.
Lacus located a pair of scissors in the kit, which she used to slice through his wet shirt. Underneath, the bandages were soaked through. Carefully, she unravelled them to reveal the bullet wound and winced at the mess of blood and flesh that greeted her. The gunshot wound had been neat and clean, but the lack of proper treatment had made it worse and the fact that Kira hadn't bothered to keep it dry had only exacerbated the injury. She cast a glance at the assassin's downcast face, then dropped her gaze and kept her attention steadfastly on drying the wound.
Athrun, however, knew that despite the awful appearance of the wound, something strange had transpired. He had gotten his fair share of injuries on the job - stabs, gunshots, fractures – so he knew personally what a gunshot wound looked like. Though the bullet hole in Kira's shoulder looked raw and inflamed, Athrun was surprised to see that the purple bruising around it had receded considerably. Typically, the bruising took days to heal, because more than a dozen arteries and veins had been injured by the exiting bullet. But it had only been a night, and already the swelling and bruising were fading.
Incredible, Athrun thought to himself, recalling what Miriallia had said about the genetic alterations discovered in his blood.
His gaze shifted to Lacus when the pink-haired actress glanced over her shoulder and smiled reassuringly, "Go and change, Athrun. I'll handle this."
He said nothing, but his emerald eyes were watching her with a steely expression that said he wasn't going anywhere.
"Go on. Go and change before you catch a cold."
"I'm fine. I'm not-"
"Athrun," Lacus' voice hardened ever so slightly, but the message was clear.
Reluctantly, Athrun moved towards the door, and opened it. But he paused at the threshold, hesitant to leave Lacus unarmed in the presence of such a dangerous man. He turned, making up his mind to stay, but the poignant image that met his eyes took his breath away.
He saw the assassin perched on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched and his head down, as if he were a defeated child. By his side, Lacus stood bent over him, the towel in her hands as she dried his brown hair. She was speaking softly to him, whispering to him, and though Athrun couldn't hear what she was saying, he could see her face – the look of tenderness and sympathy. It was such an intimate scene, so personal, that Athrun felt as if he were a voyeur intruding into their space. He backed out of the room quietly and eased the door shut. For a moment, he stood facing the closed door, his forehead leaning against the wood, unable to move. There was a deep ache in his chest. What he had seen had moved him and he wasn't quite sure why.
Maybe it was because it was the first time he had seen Lacus look so content in life. Maybe it was because the tender love between them appeared so evident. Or maybe - just maybe - it was because Athrun had come to realise that the hard-hearted assassin was just an exterior, just a shell to protect the tortured soul that was hiding away inside, waiting, hoping for someone to rescue him.
Before the rest of the team could evacuate Siegel Clyne from his house, Siegel Clyne had been thoughtful enough to grab a duffel bag of Athrun's, Lacus' and his own clothes, guessing, quite accurately, that they wouldn't return to the Clyne Mansion anytime soon. Athrun found this bag sitting in another guest room across the hall.
After changing into dry slacks and a pale blue dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, Athrun returned to the kitchen, drying his hair on a towel.
Mu La Flaga had just gotten off the phone when he stepped in.
"Just spoke to Murrue," he said, in response to Athrun's querying gaze. "Things are getting heated up at HQ. There are reporters are camped outside and the public's demanding an explanation for the accident at the hotel. The statistics just got in about an hour ago: we've got eight deceased, including Flay Allster and the cab driver, and more than a dozen injured. The Commissioner's preparing for a media conference. Murrue's with him."
"What's Murrue's take on the Commissioner?" Athrun sat down at the kitchen table. He retrieved his mug of coffee, took a sip and realised it had gone cold. But it was a strong brew, not those weak watery ones he had been satisfying himself with at the cheap motel, and so he continued drinking it. "Does she sense anything suspicious about him?"
"Can't tell," Mu shrugged his shoulders. "But she's promised to watch him closely."
"What about the status of the Special Unit? Now that I've been declared a wanted man and Seiran's dead, who's taking over?"
"The Commissioner wanted to assign his own right-hand man to take over the Unit, but Murrue convinced him to let her take charge. So as of-" he glanced at his watch, "-five minutes ago, the Special Unit's under the direct control of the Assistant Commissioner."
"Good," Athrun heaved a sigh of relief. It was time that they had some good news. "So what job has Murrue assigned for the Special Unit?"
"Right now?" Mu grinned. "On the official document, it says that the Special Unit is tasked with searching for you and Cagalli. But behind the scenes," he winked slyly, "Murrue says the Special Unit is all yours."
"And she's not going to get into trouble for this?"
"Not for now anyway. The Commissioner's busy with the media, and so is she. Miriallia's handling the forensics side. She's promised to let us know first-hand any clues they find at the site of the accident, before she submits the reports. Meyrin and Nicol are watching over things at the department and Lunamaria and Shinn are on their way there to rendezvous with them. They've got the CD Flay Allster left behind. While Meyrin is searching it, they're gonna buy us some time to plan our next move. So you've got to make good use of it." He eyed Athrun curiously. "What's on your mind?"
The blue-haired detective released another sigh as he leaned back into his chair. "We're on our own evidently. There's something going on with the Commissioner, and until we've figured out which side he's on, whatever we're doing is going to have to be kept off the books." He glanced round the room, taking in Mu La Flaga, Siegel Clyne, Cagalli, Dearka and Yzak. "You guys do realise that I'm a wanted man? If things don't work out the way we want it to, you might be charged for helping me. We'll be cellmates."
Mu chuckled, "We'll work that out when we get there. So, what's the secret plan?"
Athrun paused for a moment, both hands cradling his mug as he studied its contents. "We need to find out where the serum is being held," he said slowly, "If the Commissioner's not assigning anyone to get it back, then we'll have to do it ourselves, before its altered formula is released. And we've got to do it all under the radar. We've also got to find out the identity of those people who broke into the Clyne Mansion last night. They're obviously out to get rid of us, and are probably linked to the serum in some way."
"I'm guessing they're part of the Facility?" Cagalli chipped in, "Where Kira came from too?"
Dearka frowned. "What do we know about this 'Facility'?"
"The first we've heard about it is from Flay. She told us it's where Rau's assassins are bred and trained, and we know that they've been genetically modified. If Kira is one of them, and he was taken away fifteen years ago, then maybe the Facility is kidnapping children for their experiments."
"That's right," Dearka ran a hand through his blonde hair thoughtfully, "remember the blood we found in the Clyne Mansion the day of the infiltration? The blood that couldn't be traced to Yzak or the dead officer? Nicol matched it to the Missing Persons Database. That proves your conjecture, doesn't it? That all these assassins are people missing from years ago. They're not dead. They've just been kept in this… this Facility all the while, being trained and modified to be the perfect assassin."
Athrun nodded. "If the Facility is an underground organisation of some sort that's carrying out Le Creuset's illegal human experimentations, then it's most likely that the serum's there too. Being modified illegally."
"That's a plausible guess," Siegel Clyne agreed, "But how are we going to find out where the Facility is?"
"Kirawill know. He'll get us there and inside safely if he's willing to help us. But we're going to have to wait for Meyrin to scan through the CD and see if she can find out anything more about Rau Le Creuset, the Facility or the Commissioner. Until then, we might as well rest and recuperate our energy." And give Kira some time to gain his sanity back. But Athrun left the last part unsaid. "Comments?"
"I disagree," Dearka's hand shot up into the air. "How do we know we can trust him?"
His chief was silent for a moment. Athrun had to admit that the question was on his mind too. He glanced at Cagalli, who fiddled with her empty mug, lost in her thoughts. He remembered what she had said back in the Clyne Mansion when he had refused to let her attempt the blood transfusion. This is Kira, Athrun. I just know he is. We don't have much time. We'll just have to trust our instincts.
But Athrun wasn't quite sure that he wanted to leave this to instincts. Sure, he had cop instincts and he relied on them quite a bit. Every good cop learnt to sense things before they were proven, and many times Athrun had been right in his guesses and predictions. But though there was a nagging feeling that this man was somehow Kira, Athrun found some part of him rejecting the idea. He couldn't believe that Kira he had known when he was young had turned out to be a murderer who had threatened his family and killed his colleagues and subordinates.
But then again, was it 'couldn't' or was it 'didn't'? Was it really impossible, or was he simply refusing to believe it?
How many times had his conjectures been proven wrong over the course of the night? He had thought Kira who enter the bookstore and disappear forever, but he hadn't; he had thought Kira wouldn't reveal the mastermind's name, but he had; he had thought Kira who attack them or flee from the house, but Kira had merely escaped into the guest room; he had thought Kira would ignore Lacus' quiet persuasions, but Kira had listened to her. In the end, Kira had been right. There was so much that he didn't know.
He didn't know anything about the Facility Flay was talking about. He didn't know anything about the trainings Kira had been subjected to. Or the experiments. Or the missions.
Yet, he couldn't help but recall the frightened look in the assassin's eyes, the look of vulnerability. Whatever the Facility had done to him, it hadn't erased the little boy still inside. Athrun was sure that the Kira he knew lay dormant underneath the surface. Waiting for someone to coax it out, waiting for the right time to emerge. And like a child stepping out to see the world for the first time, he was frightened and uncertain. Athrun wasn't sure what the hell Kira was doing, sitting under the freezing shower for an hour, but he saw it as a sign that the man's emotions were unstable. There was a change going on in him; the hard exterior was cracking.
He glanced round the room, noted the distrustful expressions on the faces of the rest, with the exception of Cagalli. "I don't know if we can trust him," He admitted honestly. Cagalli's head snapped up and her amber eyes bored into him like he had just condemned Kira. "But," he continued, casting her a glance, "he's also a victim of the Facility. He hasn't crossed us yet, has he? And I do believe that he might be on our side, considering that he did help Lacus escape and he did help us find the CD because he's affected by Flay's death as much as we are."
Silence in the room.
"And putting that aside, he's our only chance. He's the only one who knows where the Facility is, and how we can get in," said Athrun, "You want the serum, you need to trust him."
Again an uncomfortable silence, during which Siegel Clyne studied his cup of coffee thoughtfully, Yzak glared at him, Dearka avoided his gaze and Mu drummed the table with his long fingers. Only Cagalli smiled gratefully.
Finally, Yzak broke the silence by standing up. The legs of his chair scraped nosily against the floor. The look of hatred on his face made Athrun wince internally. He knew the silver-haired detective had every right not to trust Kira, considering that the assassin had a part to play in giving him the scar he had across his face. But Athrun was surprised when he heard Yzak speak.
"Fine," he spat, "But if he tries anything funny, I won't hesitate to pull the trigger. So if you want to keep him alive, you better control him."
"Okay," Athrun responded mildly to the threat, although in his mind, he doubted if he could ever control the assassin.
"So…" Mu drawled, clapping his hands together. He glanced at the blank screen of his phone, as if waiting for it to ring and break the awkward silence.
It didn't.
"I guess we're gonna wait and hear from Meyrin and the rest regarding the CD?"
Athrun nodded.
"Right. No one else knows you're in my house except Murrue, Meyrin, Nicol, Lunamaria and Shinn, so we're safe for now. If you don't mind," he tilted his head towards Siegel Clyne, "I've got another guest room down the hallway where you can rest, Mr Clyne. You must be tired after the past few days' events."
"Thank you," Siegel Clyne smiled appreciatively. "But what about the rest of you?"
"We'll be fine, Siegel," dismissed Athrun. "We'll figure something out for ourselves. Take the guest room. Yzak and Dearka –"
"We know, we know," Dearka interrupted, laughing. "We'll watch over him. You can count on us."
"You guys can take the couch in the guest room," Mu offered.
Siegel Clyne exited the kitchen with Dearka and Yzak close behind, leaving Athrun, Cagalli and Mu the only occupants remaining. Athrun watched as Mu got up from the kitchen table, hooking his fingers through the handles of four coffee mugs as he headed for the sink. "So, when was the last time both of you slept?" Mu tossed over his shoulder in amusement.
Athrun wrinkled his nose unpleasantly. "That would have been three nights ago. Haven't slept a wink since the motel room got trashed."
"Ha," Mu snorted. He emptied the remains of the coffee cups into the sink and set about rinsing them, "If you don't mind," a quick nod at Cagalli, "there's a pull out couch in the study. You can take that one. And Athrun can crash in the living room."
"What about you?"
The senior detective wiped the mugs on a dish rag and stowed them back into the cupboards overhead. "We can't all go to sleep at the same time. I'll take first watch."
"Thanks," Athrun stood, stretching. His back popped in protest. "Wake me in an hour; I'll take second watch."
Mu nodded, and waved them along out of the kitchen.
Outside, Athrun and Cagalli stood side-by-side in the corridor and glanced down both ends. Siegel Clyne and his temporary bodyguards were out of sight.
"It's been a while since your dressing's been changed," Athrun noted, glancing at the bandage wrapped around Cagalli's brow. "How're you feeling?"
The blonde touched a hand to her forehead, a look of bemusement on her face. "Oh," she smiled, "I've forgotten all about it."
Because you've found Kira, Athrun thought to himself, fighting back the smile that was threatening to curve his lips. "Anyway," he said, pushing that thought aside. "I'll go get the first aid kit from Lacus, and change your dressing?"
"Sure," she conceded, a tired smile etched across her face. Then she paused and added, "I'll like to take a look at Kira too."
Nodding, Athrun deliberately broke the eye contact between them so that Cagalli wouldn't see the guilt in his eyes. He had decided that it wouldn't be wise to frighten Cagalli by telling her what he and Lacus had seen in the bathroom. It might've been a once-off incident and it wouldn't help the trust issue if the rest of the team found out that the assassin was emotionally unstable.
"This way," he turned right and approached the guest room. He thought of knocking, then decided against it when he saw the darkness in the gap underneath the door, not wanting to wake Kira or Lacus if they were both asleep.
Gently, he twisted the knob and eased the door open by just a fraction. Lacus hadn't bothered to open the curtains or to turn on the light. The room was dark and it took a while for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. He spotted her on the bed, her back against the headboard, and her head bowed, as if she had dozed off. He didn't see Kira though, and for a frightening second, Athrun thought that Lacus might be sitting a little too still and rigid. No… it couldn't be… He slid the door further open, groping blindly against the wall for the light switch and ignoring the murmured "Ssh, Athrun!" that Cagalli uttered.
Lacus' head swivelled around to face him and she lifted a finger to her lips.
Relief flooded Athrun's heart. He sagged against the doorframe, suddenly feeling very foolish that he had entertained the thought of finding Lacus killed.
That was when he noticed that the pillar of light had fallen across the bed, illuminating the hump hidden underneath the bedsheets. A closer look revealed the shock of brown hair that Lacus was stroking gently in her lap. Unbelievable, Kira had actually fallen asleep in her lap. Athrun stared in disbelief, until he was roused from his stupor by a nudge from Cagalli. He took a step into the room, feeling all the world like he was intruding into the private space. The first aid kit had been left on the dresser and he treaded as purposefully as he could across the room and snagged it. Then with the same silence and caution, he crept back to the doorway where Cagalli was waiting and shut the door quietly behind him.
They both paused in the passageway for a minute, just looking at each other, words failing to describe how they felt. Again, Athrun felt that the scene had looked so… so private, and so personal that it wasn't meant for any outsiders to see. And from the tender look in Cagalli's eyes, he knew she was feeling the same way.
Tearing his gaze away with difficulty, he glanced down at the first aid kit he held in his hand, then gestured towards the study, which stood facing the closed door of the guest room.
Inside, they found a floor-to-ceiling shelf filled with books, a heavy oak desk and two plush velvet couches.
Athrun sat Cagalli in one, then knelt and undid her bandage. The head wound Cagalli had sustained was healing alright, and the inflamed redness around the stitches didn't look so angry anymore. Nonetheless, Athrun couldn't help thinking that Cagalli's wound was healing at a normal pace. Quite unlike that of Kira. Gently, he cleaned the wound and applied a new dressing over it, then sat back on his haunches and looked at Cagalli.
The blonde woman smiled when she noticed him looking at her, and Athrun reciprocated it. There was silence in the room, but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was the kind that didn't need to be filled. So they both sat where they were, just gazing at each other, until Athrun finally stood and wiped his hands on his slacks. "I'll leave you to rest then," he said softly.
He left the kit on the desk and moved towards the door, but the gentle hand that closed around his wrist halted him in his steps. "Stay with me."
Athrun glanced over his shoulder in surprise. Was even more astonished when he saw the blush tinting Cagalli's cheeks. Her amber eyes darted sideways when he met her gaze, then shifted back again and she flashed him a shy smile, "There's another couch. You can sleep here."
He hesitated, but when Cagalli tugged at his wrist, he found himself moving towards the other couch. Sinking into it, he was aware that he was blushing too, and he tried to hide it by letting a smile touch his lips. "I'll be here," he assured her. "Go to sleep." In response, Cagalli tucked both feet under her and curled up in the chair, closing her eyes.
Athrun watched the breathing in her slowly even out, the rise and fall of her chest falling into a steady rhythm. A part of his mind berated him for taking advantage of the opportunity and staring shamelessly at her, but he simply couldn't tear his eyes away. There was something… different about her. Something that made her more… beautiful. He let his gaze trail over the white bandages, over her shut eyelids, the rise of her cheekbones, the curve of her nose. Then her pink lips. Curved in a smile.
It made Athrun smile too, as he wondered if she was dreaming. He wondered what she would see in her dreams. Maybe Kira. Maybe Lacus. Maybe himself.
Or maybe it was all of them.
Maybe she was remembering, in her dreams, what it was like to be young again, without pain, without regrets, without loss.
Athrun didn't know that he had fallen asleep. Not until he was startled awake by the pressure against his back. He started to glance over his shoulder, but then caught himself when he recognised the smell of her and the familiar tickling sensation of blonde hair against his neck. The couch wasn't really big enough to fit the two of them, but he curled up tighter, trying to make himself as small as possible so that she had enough space and they wouldn't end up rolling onto the floor together.
Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep again, a smile on his lips. In his dream, he saw the four of them running in a field of grass. It was spring and the sakura trees were in full bloom, but they were shedding their petals, so that little pink hearts were being carried along with the breeze. They ran, and ran, and ran, and they were young again, without pain, without regrets, without loss.
When Kira opened his eyes, he was first aware of the darkness. Then the soft breathing of a woman beside him.
He glanced up, and saw in the dimness, Lacus Clyne's sweet face, framed beautifully by her pink hair. She was asleep, her head against the board. He felt a sudden urge to reach up and touch her face. Gently tangle his fingers amidst the smooth strands.
But he sat up instead, careful not to jostle the bed and awaken her. His right shoulder gave out a painful twinge, and he pressed a hand against it. Remembered the tenderness in her blue-grey eyes as she whispered endearments to him and carefully covered his wound with a new dressing. He got out of the bed carefully. Cast a last look at the still sleeping Lacus, then padded quietly out of the room.
The corridor outside was lit but there was no one about. He wandered down the passageway and found himself back in the kitchen, which was empty save for one person.
Kira came to an abrupt stop in the doorway and glanced at the blonde man. He recognised the senior detective – Mu La Flaga, if he recalled the name correctly. The detective was sipping coffee just before he was interrupted, and he raised his mug towards Kira. "I see you're awake. You didn't drink yours just now. You want some? It's good."
Kira studied the detective's face closely. Decided that Mu La Flaga wasn't being sarcastic, or trying to insinuate anything. He was a little surprised; he didn't think anyone in the team would trust him. Still, he shook his head and replied politely, "I'm fine. Thank you."
Mu La Flaga flashed him a grin, exposing straight white teeth. "Alright then. The others are still resting. We're waiting for Meyrin – that's Athrun's secretary; she works the admin in the Special Unit – to get back to us about the CD. Meanwhile, just make yourself at home."
"Thank you," Kira repeated again, moving across the kitchen towards the passageway that led to the front foyer and the living room.
He wasn't quite sure where he wanted to go, but he wondered for a moment whether the front door was locked. It was, and he could see the chain on it. So he wondered if he could make it out of the house quietly enough not to rouse the attention of the senior detective in the kitchen.
All of a sudden, he heard footsteps and he spun around, feinting left at the same time the way he had been trained to dodge attackers from behind.
But it wasn't an attacker. It was Cagalli Yamato.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, raising both hands, "I didn't mean to startle you. I was in the study, opposite the guest room, so I saw you come out. I thought you might be in pain or searching for something. I thought I might be able to help." She paused, then gave him a tentative smile. "Are you alright?"
Relaxing, Kira straightened and rubbed his shoulder, which had protested a little against his sudden movement. "You mean this?" he asked, "It's healing alright."
"That's good to hear."
An awkward silence.
Then, "what about you?"
"Me?" Cagalli raised an eyebrow.
"Your head," he replied, pointing at the bandage wound around her brow.
"Oh, this," she touched the dressing, "it's fine. Athrun just changed it for me."
"Okay."
Another uncomfortable silence.
"Can I ask you something?" Cagalli said, chewing on her bottom lip.
A smile of amusement touched Kira's lips. "Everyone's been very interested in me. Lacus asked me the same question when I rescued her and brought her to Flay's diner." He raised his uninjured shoulder in a half shrug, "Ask away."
The blonde woman wrung her hands and chewed her lip for a second or two more, then asked shyly, "You were there when Lacus was kidnapped, weren't you? You were one of the kidnappers inside the room. You were looking at me."
"Yes."
The blunt reply caught Cagalli off guard but she covered her fluster quickly with another question. "I saw you collapse when you looked at me. Can you tell me why?"
The expression on Kira's face steeled and the smile faded. Amethyst eyes, which had formerly been twinkling with amusement, hardened as he stared at her.
"I don't mean to pry," she said hastily, "it's just… I find you very familiar. And you know my brother was taken fifteen years ago. I was there. And I've always regretted not being able to stop them from taking him. I don't know if he's still alive, but when I saw you, I just… You look like him. If he's all grown up, he'll look exactly like you. And your DNA. Miriallia says the DNA report shows you're related to me by blood. I don't know if you're really my brother Kira. I just thought that you might have felt something too when you looked at me. Did you? Did you feel something?" Aware that she was rambling, and suddenly afraid that she might have put him off, Cagalli hurriedly reined in her words.
The next minute was spent in silent apprehension, as she met Kira's unflinching gaze. The expression on his face was unreadable; she had no idea what to expect. In fact, she was so certain that he would turn and walk away without a word that she was surprised when she heard him speak.
"I saw a little girl," he admitted, "A little blonde girl." He paused. His eyes raked over her, as if he was trying to see if she fit the description. Then he continued, "I had recurring dreams of her. And once," again, he paused, "she morphed into you."
The breath in Cagalli stopped.
"I keep seeing things," he said. "I don't know what they are. I don't know if they're part of my imagination, or if they're memories."
"Kira," she whispered, feeling tears well in her eyes.
"I don't know who I am," his voice was bitter, "but I don't think I'm your brother."
Cagalli stared at him. "I'm sure we can prove it. When this is over, we can ask Miriallia to do a thorough DNA report. I'm sure that will-"
"It's not the DNA report."
"Then what is it?"
"Even if the DNA report proves that we're biological twins, I'm not the Kira you all know. Even if that was me in the past, it's gone. I'm a different Kira. I'm a Kira none of you expect." His cold hard amethyst eyes watched her, like a predator studying the movements of its prey. "And I'm not the only one who knows it. You do too."
Cagalli felt her heart grow cold. It was true. It was true that the man standing before her wasn't the Kira she knew. Wasn't the Kira she expected.
Then again, for fifteen years, she hadn't thought of seeing her brother. But now that she had, she realised it wasn't as impossible as she had thought. So perhaps, it wasn't impossible for the Kira she knew to remain hidden beneath this exoskeleton. Perhaps he was changed – who doesn't change as they grow up? – but there had to be something of the old Kira underneath.
She was roused from her thoughts when Kira spoke again. "My advice to you?" he said, "Forget about your brother. He doesn't exist anymore. I'm not him." He slipped both hands into his pockets nonchalantly, and began to stroll past her without a backward glance.
Before she could stop herself, Cagalli put out a hand and caught his wrist. She stepped up and closed the distance between them before he could pull away, then wrapped both arms around his waist and hugged him.
The body in her arms went rigid as Kira tensed in her embrace. She ignored it, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
"It doesn't matter," she whispered. The words were meant for Kira to hear, but some part of her mind realised that she was comforting herself too. "It doesn't matter if you've changed. It doesn't matter if you're nothing like what I expected. It doesn't matter if what you're seeing is just an imagination. Or a memory. It doesn't even matter if you're my brother. You don't have to be the Kira we know. You just have to be the Kira you want to be. You're you. And that's all that matters."
For a long moment, they stood where they were, and Cagalli wished time would stand still. So that Kira would never pull away from her. So that they didn't have to return to that polite and courteous conversation. And when she sensed him moving, she wanted to cry because she knew he was going to push her away.
But she was wrong.
The arms that wrapped themselves around her were warm and familiar, and she closed her eyes and cried.
Author's note: There! How do you find this chapter? I must say it's quite different from the other chapters because 1) there isn't so much action in it and 2) there's way more emotion in it. I actually think emotion is harder to write than action, because there's a lot that cannot be put into words… Hmm… of course, I tried connecting it to GS because I always felt that GS does a good job in conveying emotions. So for those who find the scene with Kira sleeping in Lacus' lap and Cagalli hugging Kira very familiar, you know where I got it from! Anyways, like I always say, don't forget to review, review, review! Tell me: what do you think about this emotional chapter?