*Don't let the beginning fool you: there's some character interaction later
*Please read the Author's Notes! It gives you a lot of insight into things like why this post is far from the first. Plus, if you've ever sent me a review, you get a personal mention! (now, if that isn't a reason to go check it out, I don't know what is
*I'll probably go back and revise this, but I just decided to post in case anyone is interested

Key: " " - speaking (of course)
' ' - thinking
* * - flashback to something from the series/movie
/ / - flashback to an event that happened in the fanfiction world

This fic is written in a style that is kind of different that that of "War Ends, Life Begins." I hope you guys don't hate it! It's kind of awkward during the flashback parts, but I don't think it's that confusing.

Darlian Private Residence
Vista Verde Countryside, Earth
November 18, A.C. 198
5:00 P.M.

Water. It came down in sheets against the clear glass, falling to earth from the sky, and dripping through the treetops. The lush landscape surrendered to the gentle precipitation, as tracks of rainfall ran through the greenery. It was a soft, cleansing shower that came slowly and steadily, and remained over the countryside. It was a demonstration of nature's beauty that could never be reproduced on the colonies. Every weighty, glittering tear sang a delicate song on its way to the ground, and gave itself to replenish the world.

'Rain,' Relena, still formally attired from her day at work, stared out the glass pane of her bedroom window, while reclining idly in the bay seat. She watched as a pair of liquid droplets raced one another, streaking the surface as they ran in competition. She cracked a weary smile as she observed the land below. The blonde girl shifted to her knees, and wrapped her jacket more tightly around her, before leaning forward to survey the ground more closely. Nothing but rain and the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance.

BOOM! The sound of the storm reverberated through the atmosphere in a loud crash, and the girl again smiled. 'This time' she thought, 'the thundering, explosive sounds don't signify another struggle for life.' The clashing of natural power, not the wills of humans, created the resounding crack. Blue eyes shifted to the horizon, and confirmed: water fell, not blood.

Storms. Beautiful, purifying, exhilarating; yet, at the same time, there was a danger in every downpour. With every soft, quiet drizzle, there was an air of restraint. Powers willed to be allowed out, and once they were, the storm was quiet no longer. But in either case, there still retained the exquisiteness, the awesomeness, the ability to amaze. In Nature, creation and destruction were ever linked in balance.

Perfection. The scene before her was perfection in its core essence, and she felt like she could stare forever until...

"WOOF WOOF!"

"Huh? A dog?!?" The girl shook herself out of her daze and tore her eyes away from the glass just as she spotted the offending animal running down the street. "Poor thing," she commented, "but a dog spoiling the scene? How...unpoetic." Nonetheless, Relena's thought chain was broken and so she simply sat with her back to the window and her feet on the floor instead of beside her.

How long had she been sitting here, pondering? A look at the crystal clock that sat on her bedside table told her that she'd been spaced out for some time.

"Relena," she addressed herself aloud, "what am I going to do with you?" She took a second to stand slowly and stretch before moving in front of the dressing table and catching her own eyes. "I really should have more sense than that. After all, what normal person wouldn't think it strange that the Vice Foreign Minister sits and waxes poetic about a simple storm?"

Finally getting her mind on track, the blonde rose from the cushioned chair and removed her forest green blazer, throwing it onto the bed on her way to the closet. Determined to locate something suitable to wear for the next day's round of business meetings, Relena strode towards the closet door and flicked the light switch on.

Stepping into her large walk-in closet, Relena glanced around briefly before spotting the suit she was looking for. She picked up the navy jacket and skirt, and put it aside for later use, then retrieved the jacket that was previously discarded. Searching for a place to lay the garment, the young politician pushed a rack of clothing aside, with the intention of creating room. It was then that something in the corner of the small space caught her eye. Behind a mess of boxes, old report portfolios, and a stack of books, a familiar fold of cloth showed through just a tiny bit. It was amazing that she'd seen it at all, crumpled to almost non-recognition. And yet, there it was.

With curiosity in her eyes, Relena knelt down to pick up the item that had caught her attention. She sighed as she shook off the dress semi-carefully, then rose in the dim light that was cast by the weak closet light bulb.

"I remember you," she softly told the length of fabric in her hands. "It's been awhile."

The once crisp material had been softened by wear, and the vibrant color had faded to a dull echo of what it once was, but somehow, it was the same dress that she remembered. Relena pushed away golden hair from her eyes and inspected the piece of clothing she held in her hand. Relena's vision wandered over the familiar characteristics of the dress. Mauve. Long sleeves, rounded at the shoulder. Modest skirt length. And, of course, the stylish initials "SGA" elegantly embroidered in gold over the left side of the chest - above the heart. With slender fingers, barely grazing the thread, she touched the tiny delicate stitching.

SGA
St. Gabriel's Academy
'In Tidings of Peace'

"In tidings of peace," she said, her voice just barely above a whisper. "Funny how I used to think that actually meant something."

***************************************

"Peace is not something that is given to us, we all must-"

****************************************

"We all must do what we can to earn and protect peace." The former queen closed her eyes, remembering the time she served to that rank. The people still followed her with rapt attention.

They understood why she advocated pacifism, even if some didn't agree. They had even complied when she seemingly turned on herself and urged they public to fight. They listened to her opinions... but she had the sinking feeling that they didn't quite understand her ideals. 'They listen and don't hear' she thought. As clich? as the saying was, it was true.

'Some people are too willing to change their opinion. And while that had been a positive thing when I was peddling my views on pacifism... those same people must be reassured every single day that what we are doing is in their best interests.' She sighed. 'I have the wonderful task of convincing the people daily that the universe is at peace, and yet, at the same time we must not let the public forget that all those who died, did so for a reason.'

"One person can make a difference... can't they?" She thought of the people she had left behind at the academy. Some had matured, in that same, horrible, innocence-stripping way that she and many others she knew had done. But, then again, she could think of many others who, although they had lived through a war, didn't come out of it any better than when it had started.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Relena struggled to answer the vid-phone by pressing the 'talk' button with her elbow. One hand was full of paperwork and the other was typing in an address for an important e-mail that was supposed to have been sent the week before. On her desk lay a project diagram and a case of slides. Despite her busy situation, she had a genuine smile on her face - she loved her work.

Finally succeeding in opening the communication line, she turned her head in the general direction of the screen. "Relena Darlian," she identified herself, as she moved to put down her load.

A figure appeared on the other end of the line; female, with a semi-fake smile and eyes that barely masked boredom. "Leeennaa!!!" she exclaimed, her voice, overly sweet and drawn out, "How are you doing these days?"

Relena paused a moment, mind racing, and stared at the screen. Who was this person? She tried to put a name to the face and found she couldn't. Forcing herself to put on a smile, she replied, "I'm well, and-"

"-Oh, I'm absolutely fabulous, thanks so much for asking," the girl broke in suddenly. "Just a little bored...life is such a yawn. Then I think to myself, 'Zenith LaSaile, don't you wonder what your absolute best friend Relena Peacecraft has been doing after that dreadful war?' Then, I thought, 'A quick trip to the mall would be just wonderful!' So, what do you say?"

Relena frowned, a small crease appearing on her forehead, "Darlian, actually. It's Darlian... it hasn't been Peacecraft in a while... it wasn't even Peacecraft back when we knew each other in school..."

"Extremely sorry, Relena," Zenith replied, without a trace of penitence in her voice. "I'd been following the news -"

'Apparently not enough,' the blonde thought.

"-and I'd heard you'd changed your last name... but I guess the news of the change back hasn't hit the media yet... but, whatever. But why the evasion? Come on, you never used to turn down shopping sprees before! And it's not as if you can't afford to go on a little purchasing endeavor. What could possibly be so pressing that you can't take a little time off, hm?"

The crease returned to the Vice Foreign Ministers brow, and rigidity appeared in her aquamarine eyes before she responded. "Well, Zenith, I have a job now that requires-"

"-Yes, I know, Relena. Didn't I tell you I've been following the news? You're an ambassador?or president...or...hm, now what is it that you do again?

Out of the corner of her eye, Relena spotted a notification on the computer screen, alerting her to a new email. She reached over to click the "Read Mail" button, then turned exasperatedly back to the vid-phone. "I'm Vice Foreign Minister for ESUN. I represent the colonies and the Earth Sphere." The words were spooken clearly and deliberately, the way one explains something to a child. She raised an eyebrow at the monitor before turned her focus to the computer screen.

"Hm... well, don't mind me saying, but that sounds a bit boring. A shopping trip seems like something you need about right now."

"You don't underst-..." Relena trailed off as her eyes glanced over the message she had received. "Oh, SHIT!"

The brunette on the other end of the line looked appalled. "Relena, such language!"

"The meeting is today?!? Dammit, I thought I told Lisa to reschedule!"

"What's the problem?" Zenith inquired, nonchalantly.

"I'm heading up a fund-raising project to build schools for the children whose schools were decimated in the attacks," she hurriedly explained as she dashed around the room, trying to locate something, then spotted the portfolio and slides on her desk. Placing them in her briefcase, she went on a quick search for her blazer. "The meeting was supposed to be rescheduled, but I guess the memo didn't get out in time. I have to be downtown in an hour, ready for my presentation."

"Is that project part of your job or something?"

"It's actually a venture I started myself. I figured that there are a lot of children who would need something like a safe school to go to, and not all of them have a place like that."

"But Relena," her ex-friend argued, "the war is over. I'm sure those kids can find a place somewhere. Besides, it's not fair that you have to do all that when you don't have to."

The diplomat slowed in her frenzy. She was irritated at the other girl's ignorance, but in another way, she pitied Zenith. Relena walked back closer to the vid-phone and looked into her former friend's eyes. "It's not fair that the schools were blown up in the first place! It's not fair that the people who need help the most are being scorned! And it's not fair that some of those children need a school so badly... need homes so badly... and some don't even have parents to help them anymore." Relena took a deep breath. "I have the power and the desire to do this. And if I don't do it, who will? Sometimes, the work is hard. Very hard. So hard that I don't know what the hell I was thinking to accept the responsibility in the first place. But I look at who I am now... look at the people who need me... and I don't miss my old life at all. I would never take anything to replace what I have, who I have, and the simple smile on the face of one child who knows that they don't have to live on the streets anymore. We lived through a war, Zenith. Some didn't. Some left others behind to live in the aftermath. Don't you understand? The war may be over, but for those of us still here, the fight is far from finished."

"But if the-"

"Peace has to be built from scratch. It's a frail thing, as breakable as glass. When it breaks apart, we must find the shards and put it back together. And I-"

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"-I hold the peace together..." Relena moved back to her former place at the window, this time taking the uniform with her. Taking up her previous pose - her back to the wall, feet up on the seat beside her - she once again turned her head to the landscape below the window. Her fingers found their way back over the needlework.

...Peace

'A lot of good it had done the school,' she thought, 'to adopt a motto that proclaimed peaceful intent; It had been destroyed with countless other schools in the area. The only difference was that the academy was financially backed by the students' parents - political figureheads, foreign ambassadors, and the like: People whose public image would be even better if they were to contribute a substantial amount of money to the restoration of a school. Immediate funding resurrected the school, and it was brought back better than ever: New carpet, new walls, new furniture...and a new motto chosen by the top donors.

"Providing the Best in Excellence, Intelligence, and Grace"

'It turned from emphasizing harmony to selling superficiality.' Excellence and Grace, with Intelligence thrown in so as to imply that the students were learning. 'Ha! But they were never really concerned with peace, or ideals, or integrity. The people there were only concerned with the image they manufactured for their fa?ade.' But how much did maxims matter, anyway? 'I have my strong principles, but where has it taken me?'

*******************************

"Some day, I'm gonna find out exactly what it is..."

*******************************

"-that makes people wanna fight." Relena sighed. 'Well, I guess I found it... but in many ways, I feel like I'm right where I started.'

She turned her head to look at the sky. Rays of sunlight peeked through the dissipating clouds, and the sound of rain falling had disappeared sometime during her reminiscence, though she couldn't say when. The soggy grass glistened in the light, a sparkling, vibrant green. Time had gotten away from her again, but this time, she didn't mind.

"Too many memories," she commented aloud. "What to do, what to do... I need to clear my head."

Disregarding the fact that she was still wearing her formal blouse and skirt, Relena ran back to her closet, draping the uniform over a chair as she passed by. Kicking off her high heels on the way over, she pulled out her running shoes and a pair of socks.

"I think it's perfect weather to go walking," she explained to no one in particular as she pulled the sneakers on, and tied the laces tightly.

She smiled at her reflection in the dresser mirror, and got to her feet. Scrutinizing herself again, Relena's hands went up to her golden locks, and she removed the pins holding the twist in her hair. Relena shook her head as the tresses fell, and, running her fingers quickly through her hair, shook the last of her thoughts from her mind. Then, striding out of her room, she proceeded down the stairs and out the front door, locking the entry behind her.

The house stood alone, in the tranquil afternoon, in the music of water, softly dripping from the treetops.

The atmosphere was heavy with the scent of rain. Damp grass and the perfume of flowers permeated through the air, and the only sound was that of a bird singing from a treetop: that, and the sound of a solitary person's footsteps. Stopping to take a deep breath after the brief climb up the hill, Relena turned off the main road and came to a small walkway that lead up to a large building. Pausing, she turned her head upwards to see the wooden cross, situated at the top. The building was beautiful, in its simplicity: made of stone blocks and constructed with a natural feeling to it. She smiled to herself as she spotted the road sign: The Cathedral of St. Catherine. St. Catherine of Alexandria: Patron saint of children, philosophers, and deep thinkers, among others.

The church towered above the trees, the weak sunlight filtering through the intricate stained glass. Ghosts of translucent color played on the concrete of the road. A small way from the building was another, significantly smaller one, where Relena surmised the clergymen lived. Although town was minutes away, there was a definite secluded sentiment to the Cathedral. The parking lot was devoid of any vehicles, and there didn't seem to be anyone around. Relena spotted a nearby bench, and headed over to rest for a while.

Once seated under the shade of a tree, Relena looked off into the distance and saw the sunlight getting dimmer. The storm had kept the day shadowy; despite the fact that it was over, the approaching evening didn't allow the reemerging light to do much before the sun started its descent. Relena sat in the near-silence, and before she knew it, her mind was off wandering again; but after moments of stillness, something in her clicked, but she kept the same placid expression on her face. She called into the afternoon air, "You know, I don't see why you bother hiding, after all this time. I'm not a na?ve little girl anymore; I know exactly where you are."

No sound greeted her address, but Relena was undaunted. "Fine; be that way. But I need a person to talk to, and seeing as you are the only other person here, that person is going to be you. It's your pick: you can listen from here on this seat next to me, or from up in that tree. Either way, I know you're here, and I know you're listening."

A couple more beats of quiet met the girl's ears, then soundlessly, Heero Yuy dropped from his previous location with slight irritation at his discovery. He came to the bench where she sat, and stood in front of it instead of sitting down.

"How do you do that?" he asked in his low voice.

"How do you do that?" she countered, gesturing to mean his drop from the tree above.

He swung his gaze to capture her eyes and after a second he sat down next to her.

"Nice shoes," Heero commented wryly.

"Sarcasm: two points," the blonde girl countered without batting an eyelash. "Nice hair."

Heero smirked.

"But we're thinking in patterns here, and I didn't call you down here for that. My mind's already been going in circles, and if I wanted to continue in that way, I would've left you up there."

Relena broke off and looked yet again to the horizon. The two sat quietly watching the sun sink leisurely in the heavens, before the aquamarine-eyed girl turned her focus towards her companion.

"Why are you here, Heero?"

The teen looked back at her with a slight hint of an expression on his face. To anyone who knew him, the look distinctly conveyed a counter-question: 'Why do you think I'm here.'

Relena acquiesced, looking straight into Prussian blue eyes, "You're right, I do know why you're here."

Her admission was met with another questioning look.

"I've known since the beginning..." She shifted on her seat and wiped a hand across her forehead. "How else would anyone know to find me in Brussels? Don't think I don't remember those hacking skills of yours." Giving a weak laugh that died quickly, she continued. "I expected to die within a month of being named Vice Foreign Minister. So many assassination attempts, so little time..."

Heero quickly caught Relena's gaze. "You still want to die?"

The Foreign Minister wore a strange look on her face as she turned to look elsewhere. "I didn't say that."

The angles of sunlight now cast shadows around the area, making patches of brightness and shade that checkered the ground. A bell sounded from within the cathedral, and the wind carried a whisper of a prayer from the distant rectory.

The pilot spoke up. "So what did you need to talk about?"

"Nothing, really." The reply earned her an incredulous arched eyebrow from Heero. "It's just... lately I've been thinking... I don't have any problems with myself, or what I do, but the question popped into my mind: who am I really? I know I'm definitely not the same person I was years ago."

She glanced over to see the young man furrowing his brow in thought, and resumed her thought stream. "I'm my father's daughter... but which one? I'm not a Peacecraft, really. And yet, I don't seem to be a Darlian either: both, and neither one. I thought I'd dealt with the whole 'identity' problem before, but lately it's come back and I don't know why. Maybe because lately, I've been feeling disconnected from everything. Like what I'm doing has no direct effect on the people."

Relena never really expected a response from Heero, so she paused a moment when she heard his voice in answer, "You're confusing the role you play because of your occupation with who you are. You should never do that: that's something I learned first hand. You're simply 'Relena.' Everything that you've done has happened because you are who you are. There's no way it could be the opposite."

"So basically, I have a job that I do, but I decide how I do it; It doesn't decide who I am."

A second string of bell-notes began, calling Relena's attention to the cathedral. She hadn't been in a church in so long.

"Do you believe in God, Heero?"

He was quiet for such a long time, the blonde girl wasn't sure he was even going to answer. "I believe that there's a god. There could be. But he wasn't there when I needed Him."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of believing in a God who loves unconditionally? One who supposedly 'has a plan' for everyone?"

"People believe what they want to, in order to explain their existence. Who's to say who's right or wrong?" Heero shrugged dispassionately.

Relena closed her eyes, absorbing the information. "Maybe so. Maybe people do think that way. But that doesn't help me at all. It means I believed in a lie. I means that peace is nothing but the space between war; that the men who died, did so in vain because they perished for no greater reason than to prove to the world that they exist. And they did so, choosing to fight. Sometimes I just can't see why. Are the children of the future destined to go through what we did? Will people be just like us?"

"Sometimes fighting is all there is left," the young soldier whispered with hard eyes.

"I realize that, Heero." Something within her sparked as she spoke. "You think I don't? If I didn't I would still be a Peacecraft. But it should never start up in the first place. A few people's hatred can poison thousands. I know there have to be more people who feel the way I do, but the only ones the public ever see are the corrupt individuals. Corrupt bastards with power. They are the ones who aren't satisfied, who have so much for themselves, they thirst for more. They never see how hard we work, how much we do for the people, how much we try to please everyone while keeping the general welfare in mind. They see what they want to see, to explain their dissatisfaction." Relena rephrased Heero's own words, throwing them back at him.

"They spread those lies to other fools who have something to gain... and that... that is the birth of rebellion. Fighting might be the only thing left; I see how that ultimatum could arise. Fight or die. But it still doesn't validate the people who start it. The ends do not justify the means: what do you get when the struggle is over? Peace? Well, that's hardly a gain, since you've come right back to where you started... War, Peace, Revolution, War, Peace, Revolution. Who knows where it starts and where it ends? How long do you think we have until revolution comes again?"

"People would take the peace for granted if it lasted too long," Heero suggested.

"But that should still never be a reason for war! You were there, too. Surely you can't say that you liked the battles and the desecration."

The dark-haired teen narrowed his eyes, and spoke in a burst of articulacy, "I was made for battle. I fell to earth in a blaze of fire and was taught to swim in rivers of blood. No one is an innocent anymore, Relena."

Though taken aback by the sudden eloquence coming from the usually taciturn young man, Relena found her words and replied with equal representation, "We did come through explosions, tears, and conspiracy; but only through your own eyes are you stained. You saw the world, you saw the war, and yes, you did spill the blood. But I have blood on my hands, too. Orders I gave, and decisions I made have cost people their lives. And you might not think that it's the same thing, but it is. People died, and we are both responsible. It's a heavy weight to bear."

"You could always leave your job," Heero said, all the while knowing what the young Foreign Minister's answer would be.

"I would never do that to the people. I could never do that to myself. I am separate from my career; I know that. But now I also see that my role in life is to serve others. It's my plan. There's a link between who we are and what we do, Heero. I understand that now. Though the two shouldn't be confused, you can't forego either one. That's the balance in life."

The delegate's guardian remained still, and both figures on the bench felt the air grow cooler as time passed. "I guess I'd better head back home," Relena commented, and stood. "You'll probably follow to see me home safely, so you might as well know that there's no use hiding in the shadows - I'd have known you were there anyway." She turned to start back the way she came, then called over her shoulder, "Oh... and, thanks for listening." Without waiting for response, she left the cathedral premises with only one look back at the immense building.

St. Catherine of Alexandria: martyr and saint who stood for truth, no matter what.

November 19, A.C. 198
8:29 AM

The young Vice Foreign Minister sat at her mahogany desk, juggling the day's worth of work. Crisp navy suit on, she sorted through the papers with a renewed sense of self. Picking up a pen and the first sheet on the stack, Relena proceeded to sign her name; she stopped halfway through, as a thought came to mind. She came to a complete stop, her hand still poised to write, and contemplated something for a long while.

Then time started again, and she quickly dropped the pen in order to push a button on her intercom.

"Lisa? If it's possible, I'd like you to schedule an ESUN meeting with the entire board present"

"What?" the static reply came. "Your schedule alone is packed for the next couple of months, not even thinking about the others with principal positions! That's next to impossible!"

"There's no rush," Relena said, resuming the paperwork. "Take your time; just make sure it's done."

"Should I inform the other delegates that this is another standard discussion session?"

"No, this is entirely my responsibility. There's just something I need to do." Cutting off any protests from her assistant by terminating the link, the Vice Foreign Minister smiled and returned to the papers before her.

THE END

*Can you tell I have no idea how government positions work?