Adagio

Adagio – musical marking, slow and stately (literally, "at ease")

Chapter 7: Courage (Yūsha 勇者)

Courage means 'bravery', 'strength in the face of uncertainty', 'the choice and willingness to confront agony, pain, danger, or intimidation'.

Yūsha consists of two kanji characters which means 'brave' and 'person'. Together, it means a 'courageous person' or 'hero'.

A/N: There is another Japanese word eiyū that also means 'hero'. It is written in different kanji 英雄 which means 'outstanding' and 'prominent'. Together it means 'outstanding excellence'. It truly conveys the hallowed perfection of a hero. Personally though, I like the word yūsha better. It has the humility and that trial-by-fire implication, of having been tempered for strength.

Finding beauty in a broken world is creating beauty in the world we find. ― Terry Tempest Williams

Odd, Relena thought. She no longer felt awkward around Heero.

Everyone has boundaries, some more distinct than others. Culture, upbringing, and a person's natural tendencies shaped those boundaries. Having had interactions with so many people, it was ingrained in her to observe first, then adapt. In certain communities it was rude to be openly gregarious, in others being reserved was just as ungracious. She had lived both extremes and switched back and forth so often that it had become second nature for her to be a changeling. First, take the stance of being as open as possible, as inoffensive as possible. Second, feel out the other person's preference. Third, blend in.

It helped that she knew herself well. The way she was raised lent itself to a thin material boundary. She had the inclination to be generous with gifts, favors, time. If she could do something for someone, if it was within her means, she would do so. She had little attachment to things, if one needed something more than her she would gladly give what she had away.

That tendency was also due to her rather open emotional boundary. She was taught to think of other's feelings. Do onto others as you would have them do unto you. Her parents were acute enough to warn her against manipulative people, and she thought she had done a good job telling the difference. In any given situation, having a good manner never hurt. Thank you. Please. Give more, expect less.

Her mental boundary was... somewhere in between. Being an opinionated person, she has her own thoughts, values, and beliefs. Her western roots – and her own admittedly headstrong personality – made her strongly favor freedom of speech. Good or bad, she was never one to shy away from argument or criticism. Thankfully, she had spent enough years in more reserved cultures to temper that impulse to a moderate level. She could agree to disagree. If one didn't want to share anything, or if they really didn't have preference one way or another, then she wouldn't pry either.

If there is anything she was quite reserved with, it was physical boundary. This too, was a product of her education and upbringing. She was entrenched in the highest level of etiquette, so much so that her sense of personal space was very well defined. Raised by loving parents, within the circles of sociable friends, she was perfectly fine with casual touches. Handshakes, hugs. Cheek kissing, strictly with members of the same sex or those considered family. A hand on one's elbow, like in escorting. A hand on one shoulder or at the back, like in dancing. But not more.

All in all, her stance made it easy for her to adapt to various things. After all it was easier for one to close a door than to open it. Her default was open, she would simply close as much – or as little – to match her counterpart. She always knew where she stood with others.

With Heero, it was something of an oddity. When they first met almost three years ago, he was a stone wall. He literally flinched when people got too close. She figured it had something to do with being on a mission, and well, let's face it, she was being overly nosy. Only after time passed, after the wars, she could begin to see the edges of his personal boundaries.

The first ones she could clearly see was material and mental. If she had little attachment to things, he had none. He didn't seem to see anything wrong with borrowing or lending items, taking or giving things. He had that criminal record of breaking and entering, stealing from enemy bases after all. Likewise he wouldn't bat an eye on losing anything, except perhaps his gundam... but it was gone too. She suspected most – if not all – things he owned now were standard-issued.

His mental boundary was a little peculiar as well. He had that strict mental discipline, from his rigorous militaristic training. He wouldn't offer his thoughts voluntarily, only doing so if it was needed. Or if he was being asked to. On the other hand, he cared little of what others thought. Not in an arrogant way. It was simply that he was not bound by anything considered as the norm, not conformed to the rules of society. He was willful in his own unique way.

The last two, physical and emotional boundaries, were blurry. And shifting. Not just with her, with others too. With the other former pilots, with his newer... allies and friends.

She could only speak for herself, but to her it was a rather distinct transformation.

When the physical boundaries between them changed, she was left disoriented. Self-conscious. It was as if their positions were suddenly flipped.

With him, she was somewhat used to be the one knocking on the door. She was the one who initiated connection, asking questions, lending a hand, sharing her thoughts and opinions. His reciprocation was gradual, slow. Being the one more familiar with the process, she led. He followed. That was how it went, step by step.

On her end, she had not realized how tightly locked her physical boundary door was. There were select few who she had apparently given keys to, those who she allowed access. Everyone else seemed to respect that boundary, never venturing too close. Heero never really knocked, he just barged in. Not violently, not even rudely. It was just abrupt, and she, too unused to change, was left trying to adjust.

It was very unexpected too. Back when they first met if she had ever tried to do anything similar to what he did to her, like a surprise hug for example, she would likely have ended up getting strangled. Neck broken, maybe shot as well for good measure. He probably would react similarly today, if others were to try. Not that extremely, of course.

Which made it all the more confusing. Simple things like looking into one's eyes, a brief touch of a hand, suddenly flustered her. It was like standing on one foot. One minute she felt balanced, another minute she felt like falling.

When he opened his own emotional boundary door, it was similarly jarring. But in an odd way, it was as if they finally landed on both feet. On a completely different ground.

Uncanny as it was, she no longer felt off-balanced.

Perhaps it was spending time off work, away from others. Perhaps it was her long conversations with her mother. Talking about the past, the future, helped clearing the air somewhat.

There was also their small escapade to the beach. Maybe doing something so bold had reset her equilibrium. Breaking out of a house full of security surveillance was exhilarating. As did unearthing secrets. Skeletons in the closet, monsters under the bed.

She felt lighter. There was no longer a need to put on airs. He had seen her sleeping, covered in flour, in a nightdress. He didn't think of her less. What else did she have to lose?

Likewise his confession didn't make her think of him less. If anything, it was the opposite. After their return to Brussels, she was glad to find that the emotional door remained open. He was freer with her, talking more, disclosing more. She learned that Heero didn't have too many likes or dislikes. But he did have opinion on things. He was more forward with it, with little to no prompting, which made her happy.

It was getting too easy to see something, thought of something, and wondered what he would say about it. It could be something trivial, like the weather. It could be something serious, like work. She would turn around and catch his eyes, and he would respond. When they weren't together, or when there were too many people around, she had to catch herself and filed a mental note to ask what he thought later. She noticed the list was getting longer. And her other mental note of things she could not talk to him about was getting shorter.

It would still be there, she knew. There was always something one couldn't disclose to anyone else. She had such a list with her mother. And she knew her mother had, or used to have, one with her too. Like the secret of her birth.

But she had become so comfortable with Heero that there was few she felt she couldn't ask, that she couldn't share. As far as it was from where they started, as little as they actually had in common, such was the new ground they both now stood in.

Heero realized he thought of Relena often.

Of course, his current job revolved around her. But even during the time they weren't together, his mind would drift to her.

That was not exactly a new realization. After the Eve Wars, they had practically lost contact with each other. But the thought of her did cross his mind from time to time. That was what prompted him to leave a stuffed bear for her birthday. That was what instigated him to periodically check the news on her, and finding her missing, pushed him to run to X-18999 last Christmas Eve. If he was to be honest, the thought of her was, in part, why he accepted the placement with the Preventer.

It was just that he now thought of her somewhat more frequently. And a little differently.

He would wake up one morning and looked out the window. Seeing an unusually clear blue sky, he would recall how she liked sunny days. He begun to notice the changing of season – a completely new experience to him in his first year living on Earth – and when the temperature dropped he would remember that she was not good with cold weather. He went out to eat or did grocery shopping, and certain food or drink would remind him of her. Black tea. Lemon. Sugar cookies, chocolate, and sweets in general. He started noticing colors and patterns, especially the ones she seemed to favor. Checkered pattern, floral, panda print. The color blue, like her dress, which she tore for him long ago. Red, like her kitchen apron. Pastel colors that she wear often for work. Arts, which he used to pay little attention to, made him think of her. He would hear music, see Christmas ornaments, and remembered that there was a very tall tree in her childhood home. He wondered if she also had one at her home here in Brussels, if she was decorating for the holidays.

He had started to make plans to change the harsh security measures around her. When he weighed options he would think, she wouldn't like this, she would like that better.

He thought it was good that his job allowed him to see her almost everyday. On the days she spent all day in the office, he still got to see her at least once. Either in the morning when escorting her to work, or in the evening when escorting her back home. He found himself looking forward to those times.

When they were together he would notice small things about her. The color of her eyes, the sound of her voice, her footsteps. The way she laughed. He liked watching her when he could, observing the change in her expressions, the gestures. When she was happy or sad, when she was tense or relaxed. Her nervous habit, well hidden and almost unnoticeable. How she tended to be like when concentrating, when she was deep in thought.

It was snowing today. She looked rather happy about it.

The colonies, with its controlled weather, didn't have four seasons. There was no snow up there, the closest being flame-retardant, air-purification foam that was released in fire emergencies, meant to preserve air supplies within the enclosed structure. He unwittingly recalled a bad memory, an old guilt. The little girl and her dog. Blocks of building going up in flames. The wailing siren of the local fire engines. The temperate foam which had rained down to help the firefighters' futile attempts to tame the inferno.

Strange how the two of them could look at the same thing and had different thoughts. Just like with the sea. Unfailingly, the light in her eyes made it easier to chase the ghosts away.

She must be cold again. He went to stand closer, draping a coat on her, getting rewarded with a smile.

"It is the first snow," she said.

Ah, the first snow. His first snow on Earth, with her. The pain of the old scar became duller, the past memory inadvertently overwritten. Someday, he would tell her.

"Something happened, didn't it?"

Justine turned to the man beside her, surprise written across her features. The oldest officer looked back at her nonchalantly, his face unreadable.

"That's what I was about to tell you guys before," the brunette officer chimed in. "There is definitely something between those two."

"Yes, yes, you and your observations."

"No, really. They get along very well." She emphasized on the word 'very'.

"Eh, she gets along well with practically everyone." The tall officer rolled his eyes. He counted using his fingers. "Hard asses, soft asses, weird asses, random asses, and anyone in between."

Justine couldn't help but smile. "I detect sarcasm there."

The blond grinned. "Sometimes my own ingenuity surprises me."

Justine exchanged a look with the other two. She raised two fingers, delicately bringing it to point towards herself and the older officer, then moving it slowly towards the brunette and the blond.

She mouthed, "I think the first two are referring to us." To which he answered, "Don't lump me together with them."

Similar banter happened between the other two. "You want the weird ass or the random ass, petite?" "Speak for yourself, freak."

"No disrespect intended," the blond held up a hand. "Just saying it is harder to find someone she really can't get along with. She can even deal with pain in the asses and literal assholes. Still dunno how she does that."

"Stop it with the ass." Another banter. "I still have more."

"I do get your point. Both of you." Justine interjected, playing referee. "I am giving extra points to her though."

The brunette shot him a smug look. The blond raised both eyebrows at the women.

"Miss Relena is a dear." Justine continued. "Polite. Nice nearly to a fault. The type who can befriend almost everyone. To borrow your wonderful analogy, she doesn't half ass people. It doesn't matter who she is with, she treats everyone equally."

"She's that all right."

"Not you too Justine", the dark haired officer muttered, referring to the ass analogy. Throwing the blond a sharp look, she cut him off. "Not another word."

"And Agent Yuy is..." Justine looked at her colleagues, as if prompting them to supply the right words. "Quiet." "Stony." "A tight ass, even worse than this guy over here."

That called forth a cough and a warning glance from the oldest officer. The younger man grinned unrepentantly.

"I'm going tell him you said that." The brunette chided him in a similar fashion. "Well, I'm gonna tell on you too."

Justine called them back to focus. "Having seen Miss Relena worked with 'difficult' people," she made an air quote gesture, "I think it is a little different with them."

"Different, like what?"

"Hm... How do I put it? Despite the gap in personalities, they can still talk. It's like they speak the same language." Justine paused. "I have never seen Miss Relena argues, banters, or acts so at ease with someone else."

"Opposites attract."

"Personal experience, man?"

"Shush, you."

The brunette officer agreed wholeheartedly. "Yeah, there are those knowing glances and inside jokes. Remember the very first time we went for an away mission? Agent Yuy barely spoke a word back then. Miss Relena had to play translator. He is better now... but I am still convinced they can read each other's mind."

"And there are the non verbal cues too." She continued, engrossed, "Like earlier today, for example."

"He was just bringing her coat. We all have brought her a coat."

"Men," she shook her head impatiently.

Justine caught the older officer's eyes, stage-whispered 'not you', which earned her a small smirk.

"It was the 'are you cold' comment. The 'it is the first snow' comment." She raised her right index finger, then her left. She brought them together. "If they spoke the same language before, now it is like they are in the same wavelength. Like a sign language or something."

She slumped her shoulders. "Something must have happened when we were off. I can't believe I missed it."

"Well now that you mention it," the blond piped in. "A man and a woman, under the same roof..."

The brunette elbowed him in the ribs. "Her mother was there."

"And a houseful of staffs."

"Way to rain in my parade, guys."

Justine smiled. "His point is, even if there is truly something between them, it is hard to get any progress with us around."

"I think I kinda like you now Justine."

One well groomed eyebrow lifted. "You didn't before?"

The oldest officer snorted. "Foot meets mouth."

The brunette chose to ignore the side commentary, sagely nodded. "Well said, Justine. Us and our mood-killing chaperoning."

"So the moral of the story is...?"

"Take more days off."

"Give them privacy."

"Do not make any untoward comments to their relationship."

"Subtlety is key here. Can we all agree on that?"

"Of course. Miss Relena finding us out is one thing. Agent Yuy on the other hand–"

The cold shivers were not actually pretend.

Justine blinked. She was lucky she got the better boss then.

The locker room's door opened. Seeing the dark hair of his colleague, he cursed.

"What the–!" He shoved down his undershirt. "This is the men's room."

Not in the mood for joking for once, the usually chirpy woman looked tense. Then he caught another person behind her.

"Agent Po."

"Sorry for barging in." The small smile she had on her face was mirthless as well, "Agent Yuy is?"

"Inside the shooting center, ma'am."

The agent nodded and headed to the doorway. He got dressed in record speed and quickly trailed behind the women.

Something was clearly off.

The sound of gunfire echoed in the shooting range. Shell casings flew onto the air, falling down on the floor.

Heero had one of the officers stayed back with him. Individuals in his team had their own strengths and weaknesses. As per his custom, when the team trained together Heero spent more time with each of them to address areas of concerns and improve their respective ineptitude.

Out of the three officers, the blond was the tallest and the most fit, easily the best in hand-to-hand combat. On the other hand, his marksmanship was wanting. In their regular shooting practice that afternoon, he had asked him to stay behind and shoot another round.

"You should relax your right hand more."

The officer lowered his shooter earmuffs, "Sir."

"Position yourself," he instructed. "Give your dominant hand a third, your other a seventh."

"Visualize a boxer for your posture." The officer obeyed. "Lower your hips. Lean forwards slightly."

Heero watched his aim. "You are veering a touch to the left. One more time."

"Yes Sir." The officer straightened the earmuffs on his head, aiming. He fired. This time the bullet hit dead center.

Amazed, he turned. "Sir!"

"Good."

Heero caught Sally Po headed his way. His two other officers, who had finished the shooting practice earlier, were in tow behind her.

Her face was unusually serious.

He was instantly alert. He signaled to the other officer, who engaged the safety lock and took off his earmuffs.

"Commander Une sent a word. We have a mission."

"Acknowledged," he replied tersely. "For me or the entire team?"

"Not them. You, me, and Wufei." Sally replied, "We are to depart immediately."

Not Relena, he thought. Still, any mission requiring the three of them couldn't be an easy one.

He caught the eyes of his team. "Your order, Sir."

"I entrust the vice minister to you."

All three saluted, "Yes Sir."

"Long day, Miss Relena?"

She laughed. "No, just the usual."

She slid into the car's backseat and closed the door. She looked up to her team. Not finding him in the driver's seat, she looked out the window. "Is Heero coming?"

The oldest officer started driving, catching her eyes through the rear-view mirror. "Not today, Miss Relena. There is a change of plans."

The female officer exchanged a look with the blond.

"The boss was called out just now. Looks like it is not just politicians getting called out last-minute."

"Overtime pay is 1.5 times the regular pay. Not a bad deal, I'd say."

Their voices were bright, cheerful. Was it just her feeling?

"Not exactly fun, but it is quite a bit of pocket money." Relena replied, equally sunny.

"You guys are not helping out?" As subtly as she could, she cast a lure. "Guess he is with other agents."

"Yes." "No."

She immediately knew something was afoot.

The oldest officer jumped in. "We don't really know the details, Miss Relena. Sorry about that."

A classified mission then.

"Er, if you ask me overtime kinda sucks."

"Yeah," the brunette chimed in. "Ruining a perfectly good day you know. Never understand why one would volunteer to work more."

"Is that a jab to me?" Relena made her voice light, playful. "Sorry I often make you guys stay late."

"For you, Miss Relena, anytime."

"Stop it, you flirt."

Relena shook her head, "I guess we'll see him tomorrow."

There was that look between the officers again. "Not sure about that, Miss Relena. It might take a couple days."

She folded her hands on her lap, maintaining her calm.

"Well," she replied, "It'll be a good break then. It can be boring listening to my voice all day. You guys at least got some time off last month."

The blond grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "No one can get sick of you, Miss Relena."

"Cheeeeesy," the brunette grimaced. "Don't listen to him, Miss Relena. He is hopeless."

Relena just smiled. She looked out of the car's window. The days were shorter in wintertime, it had gotten dark already.

Heero. Be safe.

Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear. — Franklin D. Roosevelt