Author's note: I have to say that I think this chapter is incredibly difficult to write. I must admit that I'm getting a little lost in this fanfic. Of course, what's coming up is how they get their hands on the serum, but I'm feeling a little disjointed and uncertain about how to get the plot going. Not sure if this is an onset of writer's block or what… Or maybe it's because I've been quite busy recently and haven't indulged myself in any crime thrillers and whatnot so that I'm losing some of my touch… Hmm… I hope this feeling goes away soon…It'll be terrible if I make it this far for this fanfic, then go about ruining it with some lousy chapters…
hitomi6: thank you! I hope this chapter is as good, although I don't think so. Hopefully the chapters that come up will get better!
Ragingwing004: Thank you! I'm glad the emotional chapter was a pleasant read. I was pretty eager to give Kira and Lacus / Cagalli some alone time. Hehe, am I so obsessed with story plot twists that everything I write appears to be hiding something? Nah, Kira and Cagalli were more or less alone, until the end, which you'll see at the end of this chappie!
AAA: Hehehe, I'm glad you liked the ending! I was a little worried that it would get a little too sappy and sweet!
hardcoreGSfan: Poor Kira indeed! I'm always torturing him. I ought to get retribution for that. But I hope in the upcoming chapters, Kira's situation will get better!
PinkSugarDust: I do wish to develop their feelings more as the plot progresses, so hopefully the following chapters will work out! I'm glad the previous emotional chapter worked out so well!
XienRue: Yup yup! Their parents are still alive and I do intend for them to meet Kira, but I think that meeting will be pretty far back in the fanfic though…
Nitameicya: Aww, thank you! Although I'm not sure if this chappie is as wellwritten as the rest. I hope it's not too bad!
Seiba Artoria: Hehe, yes, don't worry, I understand that you don't mean unrealistic! It's just my own issue. I'm often worried that the story might become too unreal and silly, and unfortunately, I have a feeling it's starting to become a little like that…? Hmmm…
Jubilicious: Hello! I'm glad you've liked the fanfic up to this point! Well, I'm not really sure if I'll have Stellar living in the end (I admit I haven't thought so far yet). As for Shinn and Luna, I have to say that's a little regret on my side. I wish I do have time and space to develop their relationship, but I've come so far without touching on them. I'm afraid I might be a little too late to cover their relationship… And yes, I do agree that Cagalli should have made her wish for him to stay clear, but I was a little concerned about whether saying that would put a little too much pressure on Kira… hmm…
October Lynx: Oh, are you feeling better now? I hope you've recovered! Take care of yourself! And yes, I do realise the scenes are pretty short. But I didn't quite know how to keep up the emotions and was worried that if it ran on too long, the romance / emotions would become too unrealistic. Perhaps there'll be more to come, or at least I hope so!
Chapter 72
Rau Le Creuset sat at his desk, fingering the pages of a book. It was a heavy one, with large glossy pages, a slick cover with the names of some all-important academicians, and a musty smell that assaulted his senses whenever he flipped the pages. It was a textbook for English grammar.
But Rau wasn't really reading it. He was thinking about Flay Allster, trying to picture the woman with blood-red hair in his mind. He had met her only once, in the very office he was sitting in. Just once, because he never met the 'caretakers' – that was what he called Flay and others like her; those who blended seamlessly into society, watching over his assassins and cleaning up after them without their knowledge – more than once. They couldn't afford to rouse public suspicion, since most of them were common folk and it didn't make sense for them to show their faces often at Le Creuset Corporation.
Ah, but Flay Allster… He should have guessed what would happen. Flay Allster had always been a smart woman. She was, after all, the daughter of George Allster, who had been the senior manager of a pharmaceutical company that had rivalled Rau's. Not for long though. None of Rau's rivals ever lasted. He was, in some way, responsible for George Allster's death and the fall of the company, but his daughter didn't have to know that. All she had to know was that he had helped her exact the revenge she wanted, and in doing so, he had bought her allegiance. A worthy investment, since Flay Allster had the cunning gift of manipulating others to get what she wanted. It was a skill Rau appreciated: he needed people like that to clear up the shit that his assassins got themselves into now and then.
But who would have thought that the woman would be shrewd enough to leave a trail of hidden clues behind, even after her death?
He had been careless. He had killed her a tad too late.
When Rau had heard that the number, half-keyed into the phone before it was loped out of the cab, had corroborated to a number registered under Athrun Zala's name, he knew the detective had bought Flay over. And more interestingly, the message had been addressed to Kira, which meant that the detective knew his subordinate's whereabouts. Did it mean that Kira had been captured? Or did it mean that Kira had betrayed him? That question was answered when Sting, Stellar and Auel returned with news that the blue-haired detective had protected Kira and Kira had accepted the help willingly. So… Rau mused to himself, it seemed like Athrun Zala had got to Kira too.
Which made Rau feel a little disappointed. For starters, none of his recruits had ever betrayed him. The intense training, and of course, the memory-erasing technology they had undergone as children, should have forever put the thoughts of escaping his clutches out of their minds. Gave them new identities and fresh memories. Made them clean slates for him to manipulate and control. They had all the potential in the world to become perfect assassins.
Sometimes, of course, there were family members or friends who made too much of a commotion, or probed their noses into places where they shouldn't have, but Rau made sure their investigations never lasted too long.
The case with Athrun Zala, Lacus Clyne and Cagalli Yamato had been a mistake. Something he had overlooked. He hadn't expected them to identify Kira, or to turn the cold-blooded murderer around. He should have anticipated it though. Should have taken the necessary precautions and had them killed ahead of time. Another instance of carelessness and he had lost one of his best assassins.
What a shame...
He glanced down at the reference book on his desk. The moment Sting, Auel and Stellar had left the Clyne Mansion, he had arranged for someone to hand them the cell phone message (written down in the hand of the Police Commissioner) with instructions to decipher it. In less than an hour, the team had tracked down the bookstore, broken into it and stolen the book. Rau had been impressed by how complicated the hidden message had been - Flay Allster wasn't a simple woman at all and she had done whatever she could to cover up her trail. Nonetheless, the Facility had always churned out the best recruits and no matter how complicated the message was, Sting, Stellar and Auel had still deciphered it.
But now that he had turned the entire book inside out, he concluded that they had all fallen for her trick. He had tried taking words from specific pages and lines and putting them together, but all he got was a sentence that made no sense. So he returned to the cell phone message and read it again and again until it struck him that there was too much preamble at the beginning. If Flay Allster knew the cab was speeding on to her death, why would she waste so much time mentioning useless things like the diner and the menu? The only plausible reason was that those weren't useless at all. Those were the real clues. Whereas the book sitting on his desk probably wasn't important at all.
He checked his watch. Saw that it was already several hours since the cell phone message had been discovered. No doubt Athrun Zala would have gotten his hands on it by now. And if Athrun had it, then Kira had probably seen it too, and had most likely deciphered it. Kira was his best assassin after all. So he didn't need to send Sting, Stellar and Auel to the diner to know that whatever it was that Flay Allster had hidden away was already in Kira and Athrun's hands.
Rau shut the book and with the tip of his shoe, coaxed the wastepaper basket out from under his desk. A sweep of his hand and the reference book for English grammar fell with a heavy thud into the trash.
There was a sickening fury rising inside him, broiling under the surface, waiting to lash out like a snake. It made him tremble and clench his fists. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Fingered the edge of his silver mask thoughtfully. The silver mask was a reminder to himself that he had to curb his rage. Fury could blind a man, make him rash and unreasonable. But rashness didn't solve his problems. Calm and rational thinking did. With his desk now empty, he propped his elbows on the surface, balanced his chin on steepled fingers and thought hard.
When he had first gotten wind of Kira's betrayal from Orga, his first instincts had been to dismiss it. Orga and his team had after all tried to jeopardize the mission at the Clyne Mansion, then disappeared off the radar for days. Rau had seen that as an attempt to escape his clutches and the confines of the Facility, and the punishment for that was straightforward – they had to die. But then, Orga and his teammates had surrendered themselves, and with some really, really interesting news too.
Something strange had occurred between Lacus Clyne and Kira.
Love? Rau mused to himself.
It wasn't impossible. It was a flaw in the design of his assassins. His scientists had yet to discover a way to prevent them from succumbing to their emotions. Not that it was an entirely bad thing, Rau reflected to himself. He had seen how emotions could drive the recruits to perform better – when they felt neglected, starved of love, jealous, frustrated by the cruel treatments imposed upon them, pride at their enhanced abilities, or even hatred towards him, they could kill without blinking an eye. Emotions were powerful.
Rau himself wasn't that sort of man. He was all about logic and cold, calculative reasoning. That was why he donned his mask. It hid his emotions from the world, kept him mysterious and unfathomable.
That didn't quite work for his assassins. They functioned better with excessive emotions, than if they were emotionless killing machines.
But of course, that made them susceptible to love too.
It didn't happen often. But when it did, Rau had his ways of dealing with it. The ultimate test was to see if his assassins would be willing to kill their 'lovers' if they were ordered to do so. Thus far, none had disobeyed.
All except Kira.
Such a pity… The things that love could do to young hearts.
There was no choice. The moment memories of Kira had been successfully erased from the minds of his teammates, Rau had ordered Sting, Stellar and Auel to kill him. That was tradition; under no circumstances could his assassins, whether dead or alive, fall into the wrong hands. Their bodies contained too many secrets.
But then again, it really was a shame to lose Kira. Perhaps, there was no harm retrieving him, Rau thought to himself. Memory-erasing technology could work wonders. He could be transformed back into the perfect assassin he had always been.
And maybe Athrun Zala could too. It wasn't his usual practice though. Rau preferred the training to begin when his recruits were children, when their minds were malleable and easily twisted. But he wouldn't mind making an exception for the detective since Athrun Zala already had fantastic skills to begin with. A simple erasing of the mind, a couple of genetic alterations, and he could have another professional killer to add to his team. He would have to send them both away though, to a place where no one recognised them. That wasn't a problem; the Facility had branches and divisions elsewhere.
And of course, if things didn't quite work out for either of them, their bodies could serve other purposes. The last time he had had a meeting with his scientists, they had informed him that they had found a way to alter the serum's chemical makeup and were in the progress of transforming it into a pathogen. When the transformation was complete, they would need test subjects to carry out their experiments anyway.
But how was he going to get them? Together, Kira and Athrun had proven a little too much for Sting, Stellar and Auel to handle. How could he get them, without having to send team after team of assassins?
Then Rau smiled to himself. Of course. The thing about Athrun Zala was that he was too… what was the word?... too morally upright. Athrun Zala would never sit by and let the serum remain in the hands of the enemy. Rau wouldn't have to go after them; they would come to him. He shook his head, chiding himself for missing out that obvious point.
Reaching over to the phone on his desk, he punched a button with his thumb. Waited until his secretary's voice emitted through the speakers. A spontaneous, somewhat nervous, "Yes, sir?"
"I want to see Sting and his team."
The ocean wind was cold when it whistled past, ruffling her shoulder-length blonde hair and whipping at her dress. She was sitting on the sand, gazing out at the sparkling blue ocean and drinking in the cold breeze which numbed her cheeks and stung her skin. Rising to her feet, she spread her arms. Let the wind buffet and batter at her body. It made her feel terribly small and frail, as if the hard-blowing wind could dissipate her into thin air. As if the mauling waves could smash her into little bits and pieces. And it felt so good.
It felt so good.
Because Stellar Loussier wanted to die.
She stared out at the sea. Wondered what it was like to drown. Would it hurt less than plunging the knife she always kept strapped to her ankle straight into her heart?
Stellar knew she was afraid of dying. Sometimes, she dreamt she was drowning. Or being stabbed. Or suffocating. And each time, she could vividly feel the life seeping out of her, like a cocoon thread stretching, and stretching and stretching until it broke. The increasing stiffness in her limbs, her diminishing strength, the curdling of her blood, her lungs quivering as they drew one last desperate breath, her magenta eyes glassing over. And she would jolt awake in her bed, in the darkness, all alone with tears streaming down her cheeks and her throat raw from screaming.
She was afraid to die.
Yet, sometimes she couldn't help herself. She wanted it. She needed it. She desired it so much that it drove her mad. It was a terrible thing to live with. This side-effect that snapped on and off like it had a control switch of its own. Like it was a living thing – another Stellar Loussier – that lived inside her, lying dormant until it erupted and took control of her body.
The way it did now.
She took a step forward. Felt the sand dip underneath her weight. She wished it would swallow her in its midst, wished it would root her to the spot, but it didn't. It was as if her legs didn't belong to her anymore. A step forward, then another and another until the foaming tide was licking the tips of her white heels, as if drawing her into the depths of the ocean. She was crying; the cold ocean wind that caressed her face made her aware of the tears spilling down her cheeks. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to die… But each step took her farther out into the ocean, until the icy-cold waves were swirling around her ankles, then surging up her calves, her knees, her thighs, her waist. The hem and ribbons of the white dress she wore streamed out around her, like the wings of an angel ripped and torn.
I don't want to die. Please… I don't want to die…
The weight of her soaked dress began to slow her progress, but the demon inside her, the other Stellar Loussier, drove her onwards so that each plodding step she took left her sinking deeper into the dark swirling water. The tide was rising, and the waves that receded from the shore swept her farther out.
I don't want to die. I don't want to die.
Another step, then another, and all of a sudden, there was only emptiness under her feet. A shocked cry escaped her lips when she fell, and her fingers opened and closed instinctively, as if she was grasping for something to hold on to. But there was nothing and no one to save her. She found herself floundering, her legs kicking out blindly at the void beneath her. Waves crashed overhead, pushing her underneath the water like a heavy hand. She swallowed a lungful of salty water. Tried to draw breath, and scream, but another wave swallowed her in its midst. She caught a glimpse of the yellow shoreline and she struck out towards it, only to be hurled out to sea by another monstrous tide. She could feel herself sinking. The white dress she wore swathed her slim body, like chains tightening around her limbs so that she couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
Moments later, she was underwater and the water surface closed up over her like ice over a lake in winter. She kicked out, trying to propel herself upwards but it didn't work, and when she stretched out her arms and groped frantically, she couldn't touch the surface. If only she could reach. The water surface shimmered above, like it was taunting her. So easily broken, but completely unreachable.
Her vision flashed black and red. Darkness was closing in on her. Was she dying? Was she finally dying?
She saw a glint of light. A star… Was that where people went when they died? Even if they were murderers? She stared at the twinkle, winking at her like an eye. But no… No, it wasn't a star. It was sunlight. It was a glint of sunlight above. And then she realised that it wasn't darkness closing in; it was a shadow, a silhouette. Someone or something was swimming towards her. As it came closer, she saw a hand reaching out. Fingers circling her wrist. Tugging at her. Coaxing her towards it. Guiding her towards the glint of sunlight, which grew brighter, and brighter, and brighter, until she broke the water surface with a loud splash.
She arched her neck, gasping, her aching lungs drawing air desperately. For a second, she felt the weight of her soaked dress pulling her down again, and she panicked, her legs scissoring anxiously and her arms thrashing about as she fought to gain leverage.
"It's okay. You're alright, you're alright!" A hand lifted her chin so that her head didn't go under a wave that swept past. "You're gonna be alright."
She opened her eyes, and saw the sun – an orange orb hanging high in the sky. She was aware of a strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close so that her back was pressed up against a firm chest.
"You're alright, I've got you. You're okay."
A soothing voice in her ear. A man's voice. Calm and reassuring. It dampened the panic in her and lulled her into a sense of security. Feeling all of a sudden worn-out, she ceased her struggling and let the body underneath hers keep them both afloat.
For a long time, they floated lazily in the sea, letting the tide carry them towards the shore. The sun overhead shone down on them, bathing her face with warmth while the cool water lapped gently at her chin. All the while, he kept her head above the water, ensuring that the waves that came and went didn't swallow her up again.
She didn't know they had reached the shore, not until she felt strong arms lifting her up and out of the water. Intuitively, she wrapped both arms around her rescuer's neck and buried her face in his shoulder, feeling the warm body hugging her close.
"It's okay. You're alright." The voice said again.
She was placed on the sand safe away from the water edge. A hand smoothed back her drenched hair. "You're alright. I've got you. You're safe now. Look at me. Look at me, Stellar." She did, magenta eyes opening wide the moment she heard her name called.
And she found herself staring into the face of a stranger.
"You're okay, Stellar. You're okay," her rescuer whispered. He reached over across the sand and picked up something black. She realised it was a leather jacket. It was dry; he must have shrugged it off before diving into the sea after her, and now, he draped it over her trembling form, wrapping it tightly around her. "You're alright," he said again, all the while pushing back the wet and sandy blonde hair stuck to her face. "You're gonna be alright."
She stared, unable to speak.
Realised that her rescuer had beautiful amethyst eyes, which softened when he gazed at her. His wet brown hair plastered to the sides of his face, alongside sand and weeds, but it seemed as if he was utterly indifferent towards his own condition and only concerned with hers.
But wait… he wasn't a stranger. He had a name. He had a name. And she knew it. But it was as if it was forgotten, hidden somewhere in her mind.
"You're alright," he smiled, rubbing her arms vigorously through the jacket to get the blood flowing through her near frozen body. "You're gonna be alright."
Who are you? She wanted to ask. Who are you?
He had a name. It was somewhere. It was somewhere… Who are you?
"Can you walk, Stellar? Can you get up?" He asked her softly.
She tried to speak. To ask him what was his name. To say something. Anything. But there was something constricting her throat, choking her, so that all she could do was stare at him and nod and let him pull her to her feet. But the sudden ascent made her giddy, and before she knew it, she was falling sideways. The last that she saw before her world turned black were those familiar, concerned amethyst eyes.
There was a voice calling out to her. Soft and calm. Luring her towards him. Who was he? What was his name?
"Stellar, come on. Wake up!"
She opened her eyes slowly, then grimaced as the sunlight blinded her. By the time her eyes had gotten used to the glare, she saw a silhouette, a man bending over her. For a second her heart stopped beating as she remembered the stunning amethyst eyes. But no… it wasn't him. Stellar squinted hard. Recognised the green hair and the almond-shaped eyes. It wasn't him. It was Sting.
"You alright?" Sting asked, helping her into a sitting position. The movement made her dizzy again, and for a second, she worried that she might lose consciousness a second time. But Sting had a hand against her back, supporting her.
She licked her cracked lips, tasting the salt left behind. "Where did he go?" Her voice emerged as a whisper, rasping painfully through her parched throat.
"Who?"
"Him. He rescued me. I can't- I don't remember his name. But I think I've seen him before. He-" She was interrupted by the sound of plodding footsteps and she faced round quickly, expecting to see him.
But it was only Auel running towards them.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" her pale blue-haired teammate drew up beside them and doubled over, panting hard. "Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?"
"I don't know," she said, feeling all of a sudden disoriented. She glanced past Auel. Saw only an empty beach. Where was he? Where was he? What was his name? "He was here," she said again, her eyes scanning the beach desperately, then the ocean that stretched out ahead, and the cliffs that flanked one side of the beach. But there was no sign of him.
"Who are you looking for?"
"Him," she repeated, "He rescued me."
"What the hell are you talking about? Did you hit your head?" Fingers ran through her tangled blonde hair, feeling her scalp. "Are you hallucinating? Can you see clearly?" Auel pushed his face up against hers, "How many fingers am I showing?" He flashed four fingers at her, but she pushed him away, staggering to her feet.
She lurched towards the open waters again, her eyes searching desperately for him. "I saw him. He rescued me. He had purple eyes and brown hair and-"
"Stellar, please," Auel snorted. "Sting was the one who jumped into the sea and rescued you. Who the hell is this guy with purple eyes and brown hair?"
She stopped short, just steps away from the foaming waves and turned around. "What?" she croaked hoarsely, "What did you say?"
Auel rolled his eyes. "I said, Sting was the one who jumped into the sea and rescued you. I don't know who in the world you're talking about. This guy with brown hair and purple eyes. We're the only ones on this beach. No one else has been here."
"I saw him. I-" she paused, trying to think, trying to recollect the memory of the man she had seen so that she could describe him better. But perhaps it was the exhaustion, or the cold, or the fear, or something else, she couldn't quite seem to remember. Previously, the image of her rescuer had been so clear in her head; the dark purple eyes watching her steadily, the smooth and calm voice, the firmness of his touch, but now, the image was a blur. Like she was seeing him underwater.
She glanced at her companions. Realised that she hadn't noticed the drenched clothes Sting was wearing, or the fact that his green hair was matted to his brow, soaking wet. Beads of water trickled down the sides of his face; there were weeds in his green hair.
It had been Sting who had rescued her. It had been Sting…
But who was the man she had seen. Who was he? What was his name?
Her legs caved under her and she fell to her knees on the sand, feeling drained of all her energy.
"Stellar," Sting sank down beside her. She turned and met his rueful gaze.
"What are we going to do with you and your suicidal tendencies?" he sighed, raising an eyebrow as he sat back on his haunches and eyed her curiously. There was a chiding tone in his voice, which broke something in her, and she began to cry.
"Alright, alright," Sting soothed, getting to his feet and pulling her along after him. "Let's forget I said that. And let's forget all about this incident." He gestured towards the end of the beach, where she could see the black sedan they had driven in parked along the road. "Come on, let's get out of here. Rau wants to see us."
She glanced up at him in alarm, the tear tracks streaking down her grimy face.
"I won't tell Rau," Sting promised, guessing quite accurately her concern. "He just wants to see us about our next mission. We won't mention this."
She nodded earnestly in response, then trailed obediently after Sting as he led the way across the beach towards the car.
"By the way," Auel said as they reached the sedan and Sting unlocked it with the key he had left in his jacket, "While you were out there trying to kill yourself, Sting and I were clearing the car since the Facility'll probably thrash it when we get back. We found this." He reached into the glove compartment and lifted out a glass cylinder. "I don't know what the hell this is. Does it belong to you?"
Stellar came closer and peered at the vessel Auel held in his hand. It was a glass aquarium, a cylindrical shaped one, with curling strands of weeds and a dozen little fishes, each with beautiful fanned tails.
"It's not mine," she said, shaking her head, "I don't-" She stopped as an image drifted into her mind. A man, holding the glass cylinder out to her. His twinkling amethyst eyes smiling. Then as quick as it had come, the image vanished, leaving only emptiness in its wake. "I don't know," she said softly, staring at the fishes in the glass cylinder. "It looks- I'm not sure if-"
She paused, waiting to see if the image, the memory, or whatever it was, would come back. But it didn't.
"It's not mine," she concluded finally.
"Sheesh," Auel let out a breath through his teeth. "Why do we have so much rubbish in the car?" He took a running step towards the ocean, then swinging his arm back, loped the glass cylinder through the air.
Stellar watched it sail all the way across the beach and disappear into the rushing waves with a loud splash. As it vanished, she felt suddenly lost. Like she didn't know what she was doing, or what she was going to do. What was happening to her?
"Come on, Stellar!"
All of a sudden, she felt a desperate urge to tell Auel and Sting about the man she had seen. The one in her mind, with brown hair and gentle amethyst eyes. It felt important that they knew about him. He felt important to her. But then again, none of it made sense. He was most probably just a part of her imagination.
"Stellar!" a voice snapped impatiently, distracting her from her thoughts. She glanced round to see Auel and Sting already in the car, and Sting tapped the horn once to demonstrate his frustration.
Hastening over quickly, she slipped into the backseat and let her lips curl into a tentative smile in response to the quizzical looks both assassins were giving her.
"What's wrong?" Sting asked, his gold eyes watching her carefully in the rear-view mirror, his voice touched with a little suspicion and impatience.
"It's nothing," she lied, shaking her head. She pulled the jacket around her shoulders tighter, feeling suddenly cold and alone.
Sting looked at her for a second more, then faced front and shoved the gearshift into drive. The sedan cruised down the road, leaving the beach and the sea far behind. Stellar glanced over her shoulder at the dark receding ocean, its waves crashing furiously against the shore. Saw again the image of her rescuer in her mind, with his amethyst eyes and his brown hair.
"It's nothing," she whispered softly to herself, "It's nothing at all."
He raised a curious eyebrow when she handed him a manila file.
"Take a look," Cagalli urged, nodding towards it.
Kira opened it. And was struck immediately by the photo of a little boy pinned to the stack of documents inside. He slid the photo out from under the paperclip and lifted it up so that he could take a closer look. It was astonishing; the photo looked just like him when he was a young boy. Brown hair, amethyst eyes.
He stared harder, tracing the shape of the boy's face with his eyes. Realised that there was something not quite the same though. The boy was smiling, raising his hand in a half wave towards the camera. This was how a child was supposed to look like: laughing, playing, brimming with youth, charming innocence.
But he hadn't looked like that when he was young.
When he was a kid, he was a sullen-faced child, just like all the other children in the Facility. Quiet, afraid, pale-skinned from lack of sunlight and nutrition. The most striking thing about all of them was their eyes. They didn't look like eyes that belonged to a child. They were eyes that were hard and cold and distant. Eyes that darted right and left, not because they were curious about their surroundings but because they were constantly looking out for danger. Eyes that could stare on emotionlessly when their peers died before them. They were eyes that were too mature for a child, eyes that had seen too many cruel things, eyes that contained all the hatred that lay dormant inside them.
Not like the child in the photograph at all.
Despite the similarity in their appearances, he wasn't the child in the picture.
He replaced the photograph and scanned the first page of the report. At the top, the words "National Missing and Unidentified Persons Database" stood out in bold. He checked the name of the victim.
Yamato, Kira.
"That's my brother," said Cagalli.
He lifted his gaze and looked at her. She was smiling at the photograph, a kind of nostalgia hidden in the curve of her lips. When she noticed him watching her, she met his gaze and her shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug. "That's him," she said, grinning, "You can see now why we always take you for him."
Her voice was casual, but Kira could still detect the sorrow in it despite her attempts to cover it up. He thought about Cagalli's words; he could tell she was choosing them carefully. She was pretending that the loss of her brother didn't matter anymore, but Kira knew it was just an illusion. He could still remember her arms around him, her soft voice in his ear. 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.
But that wasn't entirely true. Despite all of Cagalli's attempts to mask her wishes and hopes, Kira knew it still mattered to her. He could see the truth in her eyes, her longing desire. Nonetheless, he appreciated her effort, appreciated that she wasn't pressuring him to take on the role of someone he wasn't entirely sure he was. He glanced at the photograph a last time, then shut the file.
"Have you found anything inside here that tells you he is still alive?" he asked.
"Not really," replied Cagalli with a resigned smile. She took the file from him and laid it in her lap, her fingers smoothing over the cover persistently, as if she was caressing it. "There's something strange going on. Your-" She stopped and corrected herself, "-my brother's records in the hospital were erased. It says I'm the only child. But then we found this report still in the database. It means someone has been trying to cover up traces of my brother's existence. Could it have been the work of the Facility?"
"It's possible."
"Anyway," she ran her hand over the file absently again, then turned to him, "That's not important. What are your plans now?"
Kira broke the eye contact between them and shrugged.
"Will you stay and help us?"
"You don't need my help. You don't want me to help."
"Why not?"
"I'm a dangerous man. It won't do you any good to stay near me. And Rau Le Creuset isn't easy to deal with."
"But you're going after him all by yourself."
He glanced at her, surprised by how she had guessed his intention. The blonde woman smiled, "I can tell from your eyes that you're affected by Flay's death."
Kira said nothing.
"Lacus told us about the conversation between you and Flay at the diner. We don't really have a complete picture of what's happening, but she's a part of the Facility too, isn't she?"
"Yes."
"Was she part of your team?"
"No."
"Then, was she your friend?"
Kira hesitated. He wasn't entirely sure what could be said about his and Flay's relationship. Were they friends? He thought the answer was 'yes', but then again, people like him didn't have friends. He wasn't supposed to have any. Whatever 'friends' he had was supposed to be part of his pretension, part of his performance to be a normal person, since normal people had friends. But Flay had been the first person he had thought of when he was in trouble. She had been the first person he had gone to. Did that make her a friend? Would a friend do things behind his back and betray his trust? No. But then again, she had trusted him enough to leave him the disc and the information about the serum. What did she want him to do? Had she ever regarded him as a friend?
"I'm not sure," he said.
Cagalli looked a little surprised, but then she lifted her shoulders in a shrug and smiled, "Still, you feel something towards her death, don't you? That means you care for her. She means something to you. And so does Lacus."
He eyed her with some suspicion, his amethyst eyes hardening a little. "What are you trying to say?"
"She's saying: if you care about Flay and Lacus, will you help us?"
He glanced round at the intrusion. Saw Athrun Zala leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest, intense emerald eyes watching him steadily. "You know the situation we're in. You know the situation I'm in. If I were still in the police force, it would be easy for me to promise you protection and freedom in exchange for your help. But now I can't promise you anything. And let's face it, you're probably not interested in what I have to offer. So we're asking you this as a favour," Athrun paused to let the message sink in, then repeated again, "Will you please help us?"
Kira remained silent.
"You're right. I don't know anything about you, and I don't want to pretend I do. All I want is to keep the people safe, to keep my own team, my own family safe. That's my job. That's what I want. As for you, I don't know what you see yourself as, but the truth is, you're as concerned about Flay's death as we are, maybe more so. Maybe you're just an avenger. Not a hero or a saint that saves the world."
Kira couldn't help it. The amused smile curled his lips. "But?"
Athrun shrugged, "But you and I aren't totally different."
"We're not?"
"No, we're not," Athrun smiled. "You and I want to protect the same people."
"We do?" Kira leaned back into the couch with a soft laugh. "And who might that be?"
"Lacus and Cagalli."
"I'm not a cop. I don't have all these morals and ethics and whatever you want to call it. I don't 'protect' people."
"You're wrong," Athrun shook his head. He pushed himself off the ledge and strolled towards them, so that he was standing before the assassin. "You want to protect Lacus and Cagalli. Or you wouldn't have tried to fake Lacus' death. And you wouldn't have hesitated to shoot when you saw Cagalli at the safehouse."
Kira's head snapped up in surprise and he stared at Athrun, suddenly speechless. He did remember the incident at the safehouse. The chaos that had reigned when Yuna Roma Seiran had foolishly tried to give up the serum in exchange for his life. He remembered his gun rounding on the blonde woman, remembered how the sight of her had paralysed him, how he couldn't seem to pull the trigger.
"I didn't see your face then," Athrun continued. "But I've been thinking about it. Based on your ability, you would have already killed her in that split second before I could get to her. But you didn't. So Cagalli's right: Flay Allster meant something to you. So does Lacus. And Cagalli too. That's why I'm asking you to help me get the serum before Le Creuset allows the pathogen to be released. You don't have to be a hero. I'm not asking you to save the world. I'm only asking you to save the two of them."
Author's note: Okay, that's it! A little messy and un-exciting, I have to admit. But it's a lead on to the action that's going to happen next. Hmm… actually, I'm wondering, would it make more sense if I wrote longer chappies but take longer time to upload (which seems to be what's happening to me now…), or shorter chappies but shorter time to upload (which was what I did when this fanfic first began)? I was actually going to stop this chappie after the Stellar portion, but I felt a little weird that there was nothing about Kira and the others, so I continued it. But that took me another two days to finish. What do you guys think?
And of course, don't forget to review, review, review! It's like I said at the beginning, I'm getting a little lost in this fanfic. Not sure what's happening to me. I hope I buck up soon, or else… Until then, do tell me what you think about this chappie and the story so far. Is it on the right track? Is it going downhill? Do let me know! I will appreciate all reviews, whether good or bad!