CHAPTER II- A Graveyard

A/N: Sorry itís been a while. I want to thank you all for your supportive comments so far, Iíve really appreciated them. Please enjoy this little teaser before I get to the ëthis story develops a plotí chapter. BOLD ITALICS symbolizes an event in the past.

"Of course you are suggesting a very interesting idea, Doctor J, but I believe that that will not be necessary for the pilots under our training. Your ëOdiní seems highly sensitive, so I can see why further brainwashing would be necessary." The Pinnochio-like man said in a unintentionally sneering voice over the crackling video link, "The others have agreed. You are free to proceed with the administration of mind-altering drugs."

Doctor J place a hand on his artificial arm carefully, "I wonder, Doctor O, if we are doing the right thing."

"This is a time of war, man, and thereís no place for morals." Doctor O said harshly, "If the enemy plays dirty, then we must do the same! Which is more important, Doctor J, the freedom of the colonies or the life of one child?"

The answer, of course, was obvious. But was it right? Logic and morality did battle, and rational thinking won, conscious thought over primal instinct- which was not, in this case, a good thing.

"Acknowledged, Doctor O."

The vid screen went blank.

 

"I thought Iíd find you here." Heero said softly in the tranquil graveyard, where three headstones were facing a peaceful bay.

Two of those graves were empty.

The person to whom Heero was talking to was leaning against another gravestone, staring at the carved granite words as if they proclaimed her fate.

"Mariemeia reminded me of myself," she murmured motioning with a slim, delicate hand to the grave on the farthest left, "She was a figurehead with no real power, a pawn to Dekim Barton and all of those who wanted power." She sighed brokeningly towards the sunset, "I canít help but think of myself in the same way."

Heero treasured these moments, when Relena was so fed up with something that she would spout it out like that, loquacious and apologetically, as if she was sorry that you were the one to bear the edge of her disappointment. He loved that about her, but he did not let it show.

"You had all of the traits of a martyr. You were óand still are- willing to sacrifice your life in the name of your people. People are drawn to that." He replied coldly.

She smiled over at him, "People could say the same about you."

"But I donít do it with a smile."

She laughed at this, a strange sound in a place of death. She looked over to him, smiling ever so slightly, "I havenít been to the grave of my foster parents in a long time. Would you walk with me over there?"

He didnít need to answer that, for she knew that he would follow.

Their headstones were less prominent, with two names printed regally across the stone: ëDarlian Family.í

"My foster mother was killed soon after my fatherís death. OZ got to her before I even knew what was going on." She said softly, "I never really liked her much anyway. She acted as if I wasnít her responsibility. It was only then that I understood why." She turned to Heero, "What of your family? Have you visited their graves?"

He seemed more distant than normal, as if her tone had struck a chord with him, "I believe in keeping the past buried."

She looked at him sadly, longing to brush a hand over his cheek or touch his shoulder, but knowing that that movement at this time would scare him away.

It was strange, she reflected, how they could know each other so completely, even though they had been apart for so long. But somehow, when she looked in his eyes, she saw a spark of vivacious that she felt drawn to. She did not know that her eyes had exactly the same glow, as if they were one soul in two bodies.

Relena sighed, venting every ounce of frustration, pity, and bitterness with one exhale, "If we bury the past, we will never learn from it, Heero. If everyone was to forget the horrors of war, they would start it again, out of curiosity. Itís a vicious cycle that we are fighting to break."

"Burying personal past and wars are entirely separate things."

She shook her head violently. Heero liked this about her. She valued his opinion, but when she disagreed, she said so boldly and without fear of retaliation, "Every event in your life changes and teaches you new things. War is an event, Heero. Burying that would be like burying the atrocities that went with war."

He looked up sharply, in the manner of a cat reacting to an unheard sound. She realized from his stubborn expression that he wouldnít talk with her anymore tonight.

Idly, she turned back to the sunset, watching the soft pastel oranges, yellows, and pinks darken into red, purple, and black. When she turned back ot the space that Heero had occupied, she was not surprised to see that he had gone.

 

 

"Ms. Ariel Yuy, is there any light to the rumors that you may be running for presidency of the ESUN?" The reporter asked eagerly, catching Ariel by surprise.

She smiled regally, "Yes, there may indeed."

 

 

"Relena, have you heard the news?"

The former princess, former queen, former vice-foreign minister, and current college student stared at the vidscreen with mild surprise. She was looking at Shea Kenton, a former colleague from her days in the political arena. The old man had a worried expression on his face that set Relena on her guard.

"No, what is it?"

"Ariel Yuy is running for president."

It felt as if the pit of her stomach had given way.

 

1