Chapter VII- Twinges of Apprehension

Relena was seated in her chair, staring up at the men that faced her through the vidcom with a cold sense of dread.

"Good day," she said warmly, startlingly aware of her appearance. She was casually dressed, while they were formal. She felt the hot, uncomfortable feeling of being underdressed.

"Ms. Darlian." The short and rotund leader of the group said, "I’d like to extend greetings to you from the chief representatives of the newly united ESUN Senate."

Relena dipped her head cordially. Her clothes were not splendid, and she was not guarded by makeup, but she emitted a regal aura that made all of that fade into the background, "I reciprocate." Her eyes opened and flashed dangerously, "But I believe that we have nothing to discuss."

He shook his head, "We’d like to offer you a job."

"I don’t do politics anymore."

"Nevertheless, the offer is Foreign Minister, no red tape or anything." He cut in, "You will be envoy of the ESUN to those acting up in the outer colonies."

"I told you," she replied forcefully, "I quit."

"You’ve heard about the civil unrest in the outer colonies, right?"

She nodded, "It didn’t seem so bad. Surely the preventers are on the case."

She shook his head, "The media was given the spruced up version. The truth is much worse." He examined her face carefully, "They are a mob. They used to be completely run in their individual colonies, their sphere of influence limited to that area. But lately, they’re been uniting, spouting out anger about oppression and exploitation from the ESUN."

"Are these accusations true?" she asked coldly.

He looked embarrassed and shrugged, "Every organization needs a labor force, Ms. Relena, but that’s not really important right now."

"What do you want me to do?" she hissed, "Tell them to stop? I can guarantee you that they will, but the minute I stop saying how evil it is, they’d start it again! I can’t do anything."

"They tortured and killed twenty-three innocents yesterday, Relena, and then sent us the videos as threats. They’re rich, they’re smart, and they’re angry," he replied, "How many dead and tormented will there be before you agree to use your influence?"

He smiled, "I downloaded the videos to your main computer in case you want to double check. I don’t really see how you can deny this offer, Ms. Darlian. But if you do, we can make your life very difficult. For instance, your brother, Milliardo Peacecraft, has been presumed dead for years. Oddly enough, though, there are rumors he is still alive and active on the new Mars colony. If a special task force was sent to investigate, what would happen?"

Relena paled.

"Do as we say, Ms. Relena, and I guarantee that won’t happen."

She longed for Heero’s protective warmth by her side. She was lost, "When do you want me to start?"

"Immediately."

No…he screamed miserably, No…

Heero rolled over suddenly, and fell off of the mat that was his bed. He was in the art room, and the blue light of the predawn lit up the room in a strange glow.

Yasuo had told him to sleep here until he tasted inspiration, and Heero finally understood what he meant. He needed to paint. Now.

He puled out a canvas and squeezed oils onto a palette- red, green, yellow, blue, purple, white, until he had a sample of each of them. He had never seen the picture his dream had given him, but it was alive in his inner-eye, pulsing and crying and the angel turned her sad eyes to him, sobbing in confusion.

He could not know what possessed him. He was not painting. He was not slapping paint onto a board. He was pouring the whole of his being into the piece of artwork, bent over it in desperation as the night slowly weaned to day, and Yasuo-sensei stepped into the classroom.

It was not beautiful. It was not sweet. It was ugly and filled with emotion.

Heero Yuy had opened up.

"Denshi, I believe this could be the start of a beautiful career," Yasuo said cheerfully. There were three paintings on the wall, the large on of the angel, and two other smaller ones expressing pain, blood, and lost innocence, "You finally understood. Using the basics I have taught you, you have bloomed, and so suddenly. Three weeks in my care, and I’ve taught you how to be a painter."

"The mechanics were simple, Yasuo-sensei," Heero said with no modesty or pride.

He grinned and shook a fat finger, "To you, maybe, but I believe you’ve been trained to pick up such things so quickly. I shall put these up at the next show at the museum." The portly teacher eyed his student carefully, "But under what name should I enter them?"

"Deshi, Yasuo-sensei," he replied, "For I am still an apprentice to life."

Heero walked out and the old man looked after him sadly, "As we all are, boy, as we all are."

He grinned and clapped his hands. He occasionally took up a charity case- they were always so rewarding in mind and spirit.