Part 4 - Terraces

Athrun kept sending postcards.

They didn't talk often outside of formal mission briefings, which Cagalli sometimes had to delegate to Sai or Miriallia anyway, that was how busy she was.

It was a harmless way of saying hello, he thought. One that didn't put any pressure on Cagalli to reciprocate.

Sometimes Cagalli mentioned them in their rare, brief private conversations in between missions, sometimes not.

Sometimes he wrote a short message; nothing that really meant anything – just what came to mind at the time.

One mission he didn't send her one, and Cagalli commented teasingly "too busy for postcard hunting?".

It was then he realised how much she looked forward to getting them.

OOO

Tap tap tap tap.

"It was Shinn's birthday the other day,".

Tap tap tap. Meyrin was a good multi-tasker. She could adeptly analyse multiple logs of data, compose reports, experiment with new hacking programs, all while making small talk with ease.

"Luna was still holding a grudge about Shinn forgetting her birthday a few months ago, so she wasn't sure whether she should get him a present,".

Tap tappity tap. Their missions were still focused on hunting down Blue Cosmos, trying to pre-empt its next moves and provide intelligence to support COMPS in containing any attacks.

"I told her she should have said something to him, he'd feel really bad if he knew he forgot, but she got all worked up about it,".

Terminal had a lead about an attack being planned by a Blue Cosmos cell in the East Asia Republic, so here they were. While traditionally aligned with the Earth Alliance, there were many PLANTs-owned assets in this region from when the Republic switched sides to support ZAFT late in the war.

"You know Luna is a whole year older than Shinn. But Luna can be as much a kid as him!".

Sometimes it felt like they were chasing ghosts. Blue Cosmos was changing its leadership frequently, and it was unclear why. And while their vicious attacks were generally always focused on PLANT-aligned land or facilities, they were being launched in random, spread-out corners of the globe.

"Of course, after complaining about it, she did buy him a present. Some sort of gaming console! So romantic. But he loved it, made him super happy. And then he realised he'd forgot Luna's birthday…".

Meyrin stopped typing, and said reflectively "She really does love him though. I guess deep down she didn't want to make him feel bad,".

"Hmm," her colleague and superior officer said in response.

Meyrin swivelled in her chair to look at Athrun, and realised he hadn't been listening to her at all – rather, he was fully occupied staring at a blank rectangular card. His pen hovered above it in mid-air.

She rose from her seat and stood over his shoulder. He barely noticed her, but her confidence around him had grown after months of working together. "Composing a poem?" she asked sweetly, sharply.

He finally looked up at her with a start. "Postcards, right?" she said it casually like she hadn't been paying attention all this time. And then, feeling a little bolder she asked, "For Representative Attha?".

For a moment it looked like he was going to deny it, but then he smiled that particularly devastating smile of his. Devastating, perhaps, because it was so rare. "Yeah".

Her heart was elatedly cheering and feeling squeezed all at the same time. It kind of reminded her of that conversation before the transfer to Terminal was formalised.

Meyrin decided to go to Terminal first.

Before Athrun agreed, he asked to talk to her – he wanted to make sure Meyrin would be comfortable if he accepted a secondment too, as it would likely mean they would be working missions together.

"Of course! Why would that be a problem?" she had innocently asked.

What followed was one of the most awkward conversations of her life with one of the best but most awkward people she had ever met. To this day, she was quite certain it could never be topped.

By the end of it, with her fists clenched, eyes struggling to keep in her childish tears, she felt she had nothing to lose and boldly, chokingly tried to ask Athrun what had been burning her brain since that day the Archangel departed for space.

"About the Chief Representative…" but he stopped her before she could finish.

"Don't ask me,".

He was abrupt in that Athrun way, but he wasn't angry. In fact, his downcast eyes were soft and brimming with some kind of emotion she didn't recognise in him. His voice was resigned, yet happy? One hand pressed against his chest, as if he was protecting something precious.

Something that belonged only to him, and to her.

And even though her own crush was officially terminal, Meyrin couldn't help widening her eyes at this small insight into something so…complicated, and thinking – whoa, that's sticky!

"That's nice," Meyrin said. It was such a modest, small thing, really. Other people buy their lovers gifts or take them out to fancy dinners or on romantic getaways.

Lucky Cagalli gets the occasional postcard. But maybe it was enough knowing he was thinking of her.

Finally, after much consideration, Athrun wrote down a single sentence. Meyrin knew it was rude, but she couldn't help peering down at his neat handwriting.

"They grow rice on terraced hillsides here – it is very practical".

Meyrin scrunched up her nose and suppressed a sigh.

Way too much trouble.

OOO

Miriallia tapped her foot, giving away her impatience, and checked the time again. She was one of about a dozen people waiting in the antechamber to the Chief Representative's office.

She soon heard a stampede of footsteps marching down the adjoining hallway – the Chief Representative was returning, surrounded by another entourage of advisers. Cagalli walked straight through the antechamber, now overflowing with people in suits, to her office without looking sideways, and Miriallia slipped in after her before anyone else could follow.

Toyah, who had been setting out Cagalli's briefing papers for her next meeting, was already there, and looked up at Miriallia. She gave him a hand signal asking for two minutes, and he nodded, before stepping out to manage the gaggle on the other side of the door.

"They let you outside for a change?" Miriallia asked lightly.

Cagalli didn't bat an eyelid. "Tree-planting ceremony," she replied flatly.

"You need all those advisers for a tree-planting ceremony?".

Cagalli gave her a look to the effect of 'you don't need to tell me'. "Half were security. In response to the recent threats,". Miri hummed, understanding. Well, it couldn't be helped. Even in this in this peaceful country, in these relatively peaceful times, Cagalli was increasingly representing something dangerous to those who did not believe in the co-existence of naturals and coordinators.

Having quickly scanned the papers neatly laid out on her desk, Cagalli turned her attention to Miri. "You have an update?".

"Yes," Miri relayed the message received earlier from Athrun and Meyrin. "They have assessed the intelligence is sufficiently credible to be provided on to COMPS, subject to any objections from you,".

"No concerns, I agree. Thank you,".

Cagalli returned to studying her brief. Miri was about to leave, when she noticed several colourful pictures leaning against a frame of Cagalli and her father – her one personal item on the otherwise bare walnut-brown desk.

She knew she shouldn't be wasting Cagalli's precious time, but… "What are those?".

Cagalli blinked, then followed Miri's gaze. She went a light shade of red. "Uh…".

One picture was of a dramatic verdant green valley with striking, stepped terraces skilfully carved into the hillsides. "That's pretty – can I?".

Cagalli shrugged to say go ahead.

Miri picked it up, turning it around in her hands, belatedly realising it was a postcard. There was one sentence written on the back. "They grow rice on terraced hillsides here…it is very…" Miri squinted. What is this? And a possibility dawned on her. "Is this from Athrun!?".

Cagalli almost imperceptibly tilted her head.

"They…grow…rice….." Miri started reading it out again, her voice incredulous, but Cagalli interrupted.

"It's good, isn't it?" she said, smiling faintly, her cheeks still rose-coloured.

Miri had no idea what Cagalli meant. "Huh?".

Cagalli stood and gently retrieved the postcard from Miri's hands. "It's just…it seems he is doing well," she said in a voice laced with something…wistful?...her eyes looking down. "It's good,".

Miri gaped at Cagalli, thinking how can you tell from THAT?

Toyah popped his head back inside the office. "Representative, are you ready?".

Miri watched as Cagalli placed the postcard back in its original spot with the same strange melancholic joy. She wanted to ask more, but there wasn't time. It was true, she supposed, Athrun was performing very well as a Terminal agent, and had to date, at least, shown no signs of wavering or wobbling in the role.

(Miriallia would happily admit to anyone she was watching Athrun like a hawk on that front).

So why that face? As she stepped aside to make room for the next group of advisers and bureaucrats to shuffle in, Miri shook her head laughing inwardly. Really, is it possible you don't know the reason why he is doing 'so well'?

Later that evening, while packing up her things before retiring to her rooms in the government building, Cagalli found herself looking at the little collection of postcards again.

She had felt unexpectedly emotional when Miri asked about them earlier, and she wondered why.

Cagalli rested her arms on the desk and exhaled into them. Maybe it was just…if she can't be the one by his side, if she can't see his face every day, these small tokens letting her know he is okay, that he is doing well, mean a lot. And maybe they are more than she deserved.

She had been prepared to let him go after all.

(She remembered his arms around her wordlessly telling her he wasn't going to let her go).

Haumea, she really was a terribly selfish person.

She wanted so many things for Orb, for the people of the Earth and PLANTS, for her colleagues and friends, for Kira, Lacus, for herself…and somehow above all of that, she wanted him to be happy.

Cagalli carefully gathered the postcards off the desk.

They were a bright addition to her otherwise austere office, and she did like looking at them in between appointments and tasks.

But…maybe it was best she kept them somewhere safe, somewhere out of sight, for now too.