“What
do you think she’s doing here?” A girl whispered to her dark haired classmate
at a break in their forensics lecture.
The
brunette shrugged. “Probably the same
thing we are. Learning.”
Relena
heard the low murmurs around her; they had been a constant buzzing like flies
or gnats on a fall afternoon. And they
were as relatively harmless as the innocuous insects.
The bell
rang and she quietly gathered her things to attend her next class. The routine was refreshing, but the looks and
whispers fluttering down the hall were unsettling. She stepped outside the room, squaring her
shoulders as she moved swiftly and silently through the crowds of students,
trying not to notice how their eyes followed her trek down the length of the
corridor. “They’ll get used to me
being here. It’s only the second day,”
she told herself.
She
was back to being Relena Darlian, back to being an
ordinary person with an ordinary life.
It was not an entirely unwelcome turn of events. There were no more stodgy diplomats, no more
meetings and drafting trade agreements; just her classes, homework, and other
people her own age. She was attending a
private university on Heero’s home colony of L1,
studying the furthest thing from politics and law as she could get –
medicine. It was a way that she could
still help people without being under the scrutiny of the public eye. No matter how her life changed, she could not
let go of that need to ease people’s suffering.
And so she crossed the small courtyard that separated the science
buildings, finding room one-oh-eight and settling in for a lecture on the
central nervous system.
After a morning of classes, Relena headed toward the student center to grab lunch, enjoying the feeling of disappearing in a crowd while she crossed the quad, watching with amusement as one of the student action committees handed out flyers encouraging their peers to join the campus government. Intentionally side-stepping that area, she made her way through the large glass doors and sat down at a table in the corner by herself. She took out a book to read just as the television blared to life.
“And it
appears as though President Taylor of North America is stepping down from his
position, citing a lack of support from the political infrastructure of his
region and a nagging physical ailment as the reason behind his decision. Political analysts suggest he was involved in the vote sealing
incident which tarnished the reputation of ESUN Representative Krisova earlier this year, but the President avidly denies
the charge that he had any involvement in the scandal that targeted the former
Queen of the World Rel-…
“Gah! Change the channel, it’s three thirty in Europe, and
the Wolverines are playing! I want to see the game.” A male student yelled out
across the room.
Relena’s
lips curved into a grateful smile as the request was obeyed, and students
previously lingering near doorways and otherwise occupied turned their
attentions to the screen that was now flashing a picture of a pristine soccer
field under a montage of images from earlier games in the season The familiar opening before all the broadcasts
ended with a shot of the sport’s new star striker scoring a nearly impossible
goal, eliciting hushed expressions of awe from most of the room’s male
occupants.
“When do
they play here?” Someone asked in a
conversational tone.
“Not for
another two months,” a forlorn voice replied.
“We have to wait ‘til the middle of October.”
Relena got
up from her seat and slipped out the door.
She’d rather watch the game alone.
“He’s
a tough guy to interview. As his agent, can you tell us why that is?” The
broadcaster asked and turned the mike towards the familiar blond young man
beside him. Relena’s eyes widened with
recognition as the television flickered on.
“His roommate is his agent?”
“Well,
Heero’s a good guy, just intense. He’s the kinda guy
that not everyone will like, but most respect.
His new teammates seem especially pleased with having him on the team
this year.”
“So
he’s just as intense off the field as he is on it?”
Brian
laughed. “I guess you could say that.”
“Brian,
one more thing, if you don’t mind.”
“Shoot.”
“This
is a sports agent’s goldmine, the largest sum rookie contract in World Soccer
Federation history. Agencies had to have
been clamoring down his door...”
“I
know where this is headed. The Klein
Agency knew I was his college roommate, and friend. He chose them because they hired me, and
that’s how it happened.”
“Well,
as they say, it’s not what you know, it’s who you know. Thank you very much for chatting with us
today.”
“Thank
you.”
“We’ve
been talking with Brian Troy, sports agent for Wolverine striker Heero
Yuy. We’ll be back in a moment.”
She
left the game on in the background while she tried to get a head start on her
reading assignments for a couple of classes.
But as usual, she found the dark haired, blue-eyed man taking over her
thoughts. She closed her eyes and indulged
in memories.
“He
must hate me now….All the grief I’ve caused him.” She shook her head,
remembering how she had left her brother and Quatre specific instructions not
to tell anyone where to find her, wanting to live in virtual anonymity for a
while – or as close to it as she could get.
It really hadn’t been necessary; after a few weeks her photos diappeared from the newspapers and the tv
broadcasts ceased to mention her name.
Barred from ever holding office again, she was all but forgotten.
Milliardo
had forwarded a couple of messages to her since she had left three months ago
in order to ‘get situated’ in time to start college. Trowa had inquired about how she was
feeling. Catherine was wondering when
she would feel up to visiting. Duo and Hilde had called trying to get in touch with her. Heero had not.
Relena
watched wistfully as he charged down the field, maneuvering the ball passed the
opposing team as though he were steering his mobile suit skillfully through a
battle. Having locked on his target,
Heero struck the ball – sending it sailing past the goalie’s head as the crowd
erupted, chanting his name.
“He’s
happier without me.”
* * * * * *
Heero
nodded at the various reporters as he took his reluctant place at the table next
to a couple of teammates, and behind a microphone for the after-match press
conference.
“Heero,
How do you feel about your performance today? After your first game in the
major leagues, do you think you’ll make it?”
Dark
blue eyes beneath a still damp mop of chestnut hair blinked and stared at the
journalist for a brief moment. “I scored
two goals today, I think I’ll make it.”
The
crowd of reporters erupted in laughter, though Heero remained stone-faced as another
question interrupted the melee.
“You
scored two goals today, but the Hammers were obviously aiming for you. When Tubee took you
down from behind twenty-two minutes into the second half, you didn’t seem to
react. After that game against the
Dragons….”
“I
am not normally a hot-tempered player. I
was having some personal problems at the time….”
“Ha,
Yuy was having girl problems!” His teammate laughed and nudged him from his
right. Heero managed a small smile as
the photographers continued to snap pictures.
“Any
truth to that?” Someone shouted.
“Truth
to what?”
“That
you were having girl problems!”
The
smile disappeared. “No comment.”
“That
means yes!” His teammate grinned.
The
press laughed again.
“Ladies
and gentlemen do you have any further questions about the game today – you know
the one we played against Westham United?” Coach
Thurmond interrupted and set the interview back on track.
Brian
paced around the posh hotel suite, looking for anything that Heero might missed
while his “client” concentrated on carefully stuffing his large black duffle
bag. The agent found nothing. He should know better by now – as if Heero
would forget anything.
“No.”
“Are
you going to talk to her?”
Heero didn’t
bother to look up. “She apparently doesn’t want to talk. She thinks she’s hiding from me.”
“She
thinks?”
“Yes. I know where she is.”
“Where?”
“L1.”
“Shit,
we can’t get near that place for another two months. If she was on Earth,
maybe…”
“Hn.”
“But
you’ve got practice 5 times a week, a game at least once a week, and this is
one of the few professions in the universe that doesn’t accrue vacation time.”
Heero
zipped the bag and picked up his jacket.
Their next game was in Mexico, and the flight was leaving in two hours.
He shouldered his duffle bag and crossed the room to the door, his agent still
babbling about his personal life.
“You
can maybe send a message to her – write her a letter, or talk to her brother.”
He
stopped and turned to glare at Brian.
“I’m not going to tell my feelings for her to her brother.” He opened
the door and stepped out into the hallway.
“And I suck at writing letters.”
“So
what are you going to do?”
“Wait.”
“I
was afraid you’d say that.”
* * * * * *
Two Months later…
Noventa Stadium
L1 Colony
She
couldn’t help but smile at the tiny rectangular object in her hand. It was a sold out game. The people of L1 couldn’t wait to see the
‘home town hero’ return to play against the colony team. She would be one in a crowd of thousands, but
she’d get to see him play in person for the first time since he was drafted
into the WSF, and only the second time ever. It was just the pick-me-up she
needed after a draining week of October midterms. She continued the long trek from the parking
lot to the stadium, blending in with the waves of people along the way.
* * * * * *
“You
in position?” A voice crackled on Trowa’s wristcomm
device.
“Affirmative.”
“Trooowa,” Duo whined, eyes rolling as he spoke to his
friend. “This isn’t a mission, you don’t
have to be so…Heero-ish about it.”
A
third person laughed into the comm. unit.
“Heero-ish! I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you
made an adjective out of his name.”
“Ah
well, Brian, as long as you don’t tell him that it substitutes for anal, we’ll
live to see the sun come up tomorrow.”
“I’m
in section 122.” Trowa said, trying to get the “mission” back on track. “Still no visual on the target. Does Heero know what we’re doing?”
“No,”
Brian replied. “But he’s already
pissed. She apparently got smarter at
covering up her tracks, and so he can’t pinpoint where on L1 she’s
actually been staying. Even if you
assume our hunch on the college aspect is correct, there’s four major
Universities here – and none of them are willing to divulge enrollment
information. We’re supposed to spend the
weekend ‘interviewing’ students at all four campuses, but I think this is the
better way to go. She never misses a game.”
“I
hope you’re right.”
* * * * * *
Relena
weaved her way through the throngs of people, passing souvenir booth after
souvenir booth – all filled with merchandise for the home team. The only item she wanted was a Wolverine
jersey – one with the number 01 on the back.
The
smell of hotdogs reached her nose, stirring her stomach. She smiled.
“Why not?” A few minutes later, she had her dog, complete with ketchup
and relish, and a soda, feeling a new
wave of happiness flow through her.
People no longer stared when she walked into a room – the vendor at the
hot dog cart hadn’t given her a second glace – and on top of that, she was
going to see him today. Although it
would only be from a distance, her heart leapt at the very notion. She continued down the concrete corridors with
her snack towards her seat, passing a sign that read “Section 120-125,” and
pointed in the direction she had taken.
* * * * * *
“Sections
120-125 showed no sign of her. Moving to the next.”
“I
guess keep going, Trowa, I don’t know what to tell you. We only assume she’s on the visitor’s side,
but with the game being sold out, there’s no guarantee that’s the case.”
“Couldn’t
you narrow it down with the receipts, Brian?”
“There’s
23,859 seats in this stadium, it would be like searching out a needle in a
haystack.”
“Not
entirely. We could probably assume she’s
not in the box or luxury suites, and not a season ticket holder. How many seats does that leave?”
“Let
me check. 5,200.”
“Is
it possible…?”
“I’ll
get someone on it. What are we looking
for?”
“An
R. Darlian, most likely.”
“How
are you, Duo?”
“In
position and ready to go,” the braided man smiled from behind one of the large TV
cameras.
“All
right. The game’s about to start. Keep looking, Trowa. We’ll keep each other
posted.”
* * * * * *
Relena found her seat in section 123, about halfway down, in row M right on the aisle. She had been fortunate enough to get a seat on the visitor’s side, but an aisle seat where she could get up without bothering her neighbors had almost been too good to be true. It meant she could go back for that jersey she had spied in the last souvenir stand outside her section as soon as she finished her snack.
Or maybe at
halftime…She didn’t want to miss anything important.
A
booming voice resounded through the stadium as the announcer greeted the
crowd. “And sitting in the broadcasting
booth with us tonight is sports agent and former Bulldog soccer player, Brian
Troy! Say hello, Brian.”
“Hello, everyone.”
“This
is a homecoming of sorts for you and your client, isn’t it?”
“Now
Jim, Heero isn’t just my client. We
played soccer together – at Trinity University here, in fact. Go Bulldogs!”
The
crowd cheered wildly. The other
broadcaster chuckled. “Got quite a few
fans yourself, seems like.”
“Nah,
they’re not cheering for me. But what I
was saying, Jim, is that Heero isn’t just my client, he’s my friend. And yes, it’s like a homecoming of sorts for
both of us. My parents are both here,
and they promised to feed me after the game.
Hi mom! And Heero has of course
his own ties to this colony as well.
We’re very glad to be here.”
“And
we’re glad to have you. Looks like
they’ve called the coin toss and the Wolverines will kick off. We’ll pause now for a TV commercial break.”
* * * * * *
“I’ve
searched every section. I didn’t see her
anywhere. Did you come up with anything
Brian?” Trowa asked, abandoning the systematic approach and scanning the crowd
at random.
“Not
yet.”
“Damn,
there’s only seven minutes left in the second half. With the Wolverines so solidly in the lead,
people have been leaving for the last ten minutes.”
“Well,
it should make it easier to find her, then.
Hold on a second. AAAH! I thought you said you checked all the
sections, Trowa?”
“I
did.”
“We’ve
got a receipt for an R. Darlian in section 123, row
M.”
The
acrobat scowled in frustration. “I’m on the complete other side of the stadium,
it will take me at least four minutes to get there. Let’s hope she doesn’t decide to leave. Duo, are you there?”
“Sure
am, buddy.”
“Can you
find her?”
“I
have to wait until the ball’s on the other end.
Just go, now!”
* * * * * *
Three
to one was a pretty solid score with only seven minutes left to play. She started to fidget, locking and unlocking
her fingers, twisting her hands. Why was
she here? It’s not like she could talk
to him even if she stayed. There was
security all around both teams, and being a former famous person turned
political disgrace would most likely not get her a free pass to talk to a
soccer star.
“Not
like he wants to see me, anyway,” she told herself once again, watching him
take his place on the field after a time-out..
The stadium was starting to empty as people wanting to get a head start
on the battle against the always-congested parking lot began to file out of the
building. Four minutes and twenty-six
seconds flashed up on the jumbo-tron screen. She sighed.
If she left now, she could stop by that souvenir stand and buy the
jersey and still have a bit of a head start on most of the traffic. With one last sad smile turned towards the
field, she stood up from her collapsible seat and started up the stadium steps
to the exit.
* * * * * *
The ball finally made it to the other end of the field, and Duo turned the camera around to search what was labeled section 123. “What are you doing?” The producer’s voice hissed in his headphones.
“Heh, just panning the crowd, ya
know….”
“Pan
back to the field.”
He
caught the sight of long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, swishing behind a
familiar form moving deliberately up the steps.
“She’s
leaving,” Brian’s voice sounded frazzled over his wristcomm
device.
“Damn,
where’s Trowa?”
“Pan back
to the field!” The producer’s voice echoed loudly in his headset.
“We’ve got
to stop her!”
Think, Duo,
think!
She was almost to the top of the steps, closing in on the exit.
“Pan back
to the field, or you’re fired.”
“Brian,
switch to my camera feed!”
“Ladies
and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please. We have a very special guest
in attendance tonight. The former Queen
of the World, Relena Peacecraft!”
She
heard them call for everyone’s attention, feeling the blood drain from her face
and her chest tighten when they said her name.
Her face was instantly plastered on the giant screen at the end of the
stadium, meaning there was a camera trained directly on her. Her first inclination was to run. Only two short hours ago she was reveling in
anonymity, and now… here she was again, offered up in front of the world,
waiting to hear the word that still rang through her mind when she exited the
assembly all those months ago. “Traitor!”
Blinking back tears, she managed a polite wave in the
direction of the camera – a rush of feeling flooding her heart at that moment as
she heard the roar of the crowd mingling with shouts of “We love you, Queen
Relena!” Her hand came to rest on a nearby seatback to help support her weight
while the emotions surged through her. Relief,
that the entire Earth sphere didn’t hate her as she had feared. And hope, that
in time, people would remember her for the good she had tried to do, and
forgive the sins and mistakes she had made along the way.
The shame
and humiliation that had plagued her for months, gnawing away at her self
confidence, and anchoring her heart to the bottom of a dark and littered sea,
finally lifted. A genuine smile bubbled
up from her chest as she continued to wave to the cheering crowd.
Heero had
frozen when he heard her name, stopped in the middle of the field staring up at
her face on the screen while the other players charged around him, still intent
on the game they were playing.
“Yuy, what
the hell are you doing” one of his teammates hissed, passing the striker and
heading towards the other end of the field.
But Heero didn’t hear him. All he
could see was her face. She was…smiling. How long had it been since he had seen that
expression grace her features? How long
had it been…
A
sudden commotion broke out below her, and the booming voice of the announcer
shouted into the microphone: “And Heero Yuy is leaving the game! He’s running
off of the field in the middle of play.
Thurmond is trying to signal him, but he’s not stopping. What the…there’s still over a minute left in
the game!”
The
camera continued to roll as Heero leapt onto the wall, pulling himself over the
rail into the stands of section 123.
Relena stood, frozen in place, trying to absorb all that was
happening. He had left the game just to
see her, the look in his eyes telling her not to go.
The
crowd cheered wildly as the soccer star ran through the stands, his image now
appearing on the screen above the stadium.
She started
down the steps towards him, dizzy and having to concentrate on each movement, trembling
the whole way. Relena completely
forgot that there were still thousands of people in attendance, none of
them focused on the game, which had ended seconds before, but on the video
screen displaying the image of the two lovers.
She froze when he came to a halt right in front of her, his eyes
sparkling while he caught his breath.
“Relena…”
Tears
finally spilled over at the sound of her name on his lips. Inching closer, she looked up and gave him a
watery smile. “You played a good game,
Heero.”
A small
smile tugged at his lips and he nodded, pulling her towards him without a word,
his arms folding her against his chest still heaving with exertion. Relena
closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him and marveling at the sensation of
being in his embrace once more. Screams
and cheers erupted around them, and She felt his posture straighten. She lifted her head, feeling his hand come to
rest softly against her cheek and meeting his eyes only briefly before he
leaned down and captured her lips in a long overdue and heated kiss.
And the
world looked on.