Desires of the Heart
Chapter 3
By Zapenstap
Heero fished for his keys in the pocket of his brown jacket and brought them up to his home door, conscious mostly of the sound they made as they clanked together. His head was bent low as he turned the key in the lock, a few stray brown hairs falling in front of his eyes. He ignored them once the door was opened, lifting his head with a jerk to sweep them back, and stepped inside on the wood floors of his hallway.
As he deposited the keys back into his jacket, Heero considered his feelings. They were difficult to determine, a mere jumble of desires that faded in and out as his thoughts turned. Maybe that was what had made him run, the uncertainty of his hasty decision. He was known to act on impulse before. He had tried to assassinate Relena more than once on impulse, and as new information arose, he had changed his mind, about a lot of things. Emotions were a lot less concrete than information, and it was difficult to follow them and simply expect the best result. When the Romafeller audience had applauded Relena’s plan for peace he had let her live, but deciding whether or not he wanted to be…romantic… with her was an entirely different affair. All the way to city hall he had thought about her, imagined the conversation they would have, or the conversation he would try to direct, but when he saw her he realized he had less control of what would happen than he thought. She had looked the same to him, a young girl leading old men who had been long in power, a girl full of the confidence that she could shape the world with her own delicate hands. For a second, she had looked like an idiot. He had often thought of her as an idiot, politically irresponsible, way in over her head, expecting too much good out of people simply because she believed in goodness. The reoccurrence of the thought made him pause, and then he found his thoughts tilting the other way as he remembered that her idealistic ideas had worked, that the belief in such magic had produced world peace, and reminding himself that she was intensely beautiful and that he had come to see her for a reason. The confusion that resulted sent him stumbling in some haste from the room.
He recognized the feeling in him as fear.
The familiarity of his house settled his nerves, and the thought that he might be able to sort out his intentions calmed his buzzing thoughts. What he needed was to relax and think things through, or do something to take his mind off of it if there was nothing to be done by planning. He wasn’t really sure what to expect.
“I see you’ve stolen some of my décor,” a voice murmured from the dining room.
Heero lifted his head. His shoes echoed loudly on the wood floors as he strode silently to the closet to hang up his coat. The voice did not speak again as Heero fitted the coat on a hanger and hung it over the bar, and Heero lingered longer in the hallway, blinking at nothing, thinking again over the state he had left things in with Relena while he ignored Mandred’s salutation. Having at the encounter in the city no clear purpose of what he wanted, he didn’t see the affair with Relena as a failure. He did tell her he would call her after all, and she had certainly been friendly. What’s more, he sensed that she was interested in what he did not say, and a little perturbed that she might have been able to read him so keenly. But then, he had heard girls were like that, especially in matters of the heart. He was more disconcerted that he had not acted when he suspected how she would respond. Well, he had been scared, but all of that was in the past. What he had to decide now was what to do next, a task with which he hoped some help would be offered, or at least some perspective.
When he was ready, Heero entered the living room, crossing his arms over his gray sweater as he walked with a slow, ambling pace.
Mandred was in the kitchen, holding a ceramic mug Heero had bought at a local store in his long-fingered, even-toned hands. He was a tall man, equally lean and strong, with a handsome face, a small nose and dark, piercing eyes. There was strength in the way he carried himself, from the set of his shoulders to the way he stood firmly with the soles of his shoes flat on the floor.
“I just like to keep things simple,” Heero replied to the former comment. For some reason it wasn’t surprising to see his legal guardian after all this time, but it did affect him. Mandred had come into Heero’s life after the way as a surprise. For whatever reason, the man had remembered him from his training with Doctor J and felt concerned for him after the war ended. He had given Heero a stable environment for the better part of a year and had helped him sort out his past and his identity. Heero was grateful, but when he turned eighteen they went their separate ways. Heero wondered why he had chosen to call Mandred at a time like this. The bond between them was peculiar. He wasn’t sure what to call it.
Mandred raised his head and caught him in the eye. “Sometimes,” Mandred said as a mysterious smile, and set the mug back on the counter.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you,” Heero said quietly. “You never told me what happened. The last I saw you, you were headed for a trial. Were you acquitted?”
“No,” Mandred said. “But the proceedings went much like I supposed they would. I have paid my debts.”
“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” Heero said, relieved and only a little curious as he passed Mandred into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water from the sink.
“I was ill,” Mandred replied, and still he had not moved. “There was a time period where it would have been impossible for me to contact you, and an adjacent time when I was in no condition to attempt it.”
Heero frowned, the water barely wetting his lips. He couldn’t image Mandred being sick, and he especially couldn’t imagine him so sick that he couldn’t contact him. “What was wrong with you?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could. Swallowing a few mouthfuls of water, he set the glass on the counter.
“Fatigue mostly,” Mandred said. “My mind and body both suffered from it, but I have been well since I recovered. There is no need to worry now. As I said, I have made a full recovery. Besides, I think I am here for some problem you are having.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Heero muttered, but the words fell into dead space. “As for my current problem, I don’t know why I called you. I don’t really know if you can help me.”
“Neither do I,” Mandred replied, “but why don’t we sit down or walk somewhere and you can tell me about it?”
Heero cast Mandred a sidelong, speculative glance as he led the way to the back porch, a spot chosen because he thought the cold air would clear his head, and shivering would give him something to do other than think about Relena. Mandred followed patiently, and did not seem to feel the cold at all.
Heero surveyed the little bit of backyard he had from the wood rail, noticing the decaying remains and the bare spots of dirt and gravel in his lawn. He had never been much one for gardening, but he supposed he might need to learn if he expected anyone to respect his yard.
He was evading.
Heero scrubbed a hand through his hair and turned around, leaning back against the rail. Mandred was sitting on the bench against the wall, his hands folded across his knees, waiting with what looked like imperishable patience. Watching his face, Heero saw knowingness there, not the sort he would expect from a mind reader, just a calm assurance tempered by all that patience. Of course, anyone as old as Mandred ought to have a dragon’s patience, simply to be able to endure so many days passing unchanged. How old was Mandred? Heero couldn’t remember. He had a vague thought that the man was some kind of magician, and perhaps it was a magic trick that kept him from being able to think through his memories clearly, but Heero didn’t think about that. Mandred was old and wise. That was what he remembered.
“It’s about Relena,” Heero said in the silence, and swallowed after it was out of his mouth. His chest felt looser, though, and he relaxed his body so that his arms hung limply at the elbow on the rail behind him. For some reason, it didn’t bother him to let some of his stiffness go in Mandred’s presence.
Mandred smiled a small, secret smile, and Heero flushed a little in response. “You always did like her,” his mentor murmured.
Heero opened his mouth to protest, but Mandred forestalled him with a gesture.
“You can’t deny that you fuss over her.”
“No,” Heero said, straightening unconsciously like a soldier under the observation of a commanding officer. “I protected her a great deal, at great disk.” There was indignation in his voice, a sense of a man wanting to prove himself. “She was a very important person and what she was doing meant a lot to me, to the whole world.”
“Even after that,” Mandred said with a wave of his hand, “after everything, when she was on television. I know you recorded her speeches when I made you go to school.” When Heero opened his mouth again, but Mandred only laughed light-heartedly. “I’m not implying anything. She’s a sweet girl. Spirited. I am merely saying that this declaration of yours does not surprise me. I might also add that I am not the only one who has noticed.”
“I wasn’t trying to keep anything secret,” Heero glowered, and was surprised by what sounded like sullenness in his voice. He found himself looking away. The wind blew his hair and he shivered a little, realizing how cold it was outside without a coat, though Mandred did not seem affected by it. “I know Duo thinks I have a thing for her.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Heero said honestly with a shrug of his shoulders. “Some people seem to think I’ve been in love with her for years. I don’t know if I agree with that.” He looked down, feeling again those mix of emotions rolling around inside his head. His shoes were scuffed on the toes. The idea that Relena had loved him in secret for any length of time frightened him. “I care about her,” he admitted, “but I wouldn’t call it love.” He turned his back to Mandred. “I don’t really know what love is. I don’t even know if that’s what I want.”
“That’s a big step,” Mandred said quietly, and Heero wasn’t sure if he was referring to being in love or Heero’s confession that he at least cared. Heero supposed that both were pretty big steps, but rather than feel proud he felt mostly confused and anxious. He hated feeling like that.
He only knew Mandred had stood when he felt the man’s hand on his shoulder. The physical contact caused him to sink lower against the railing. For a moment he was silent, breathing in the scent of frozen dirt and sharp wind. Then he began to shiver.
“You’re cold,” Mandred said suddenly. “Let’s go back inside. I would like some tea.”
Mandred sat at the table while Heero boiled teabags in water over the stove. Mandred was reading the paper, or perhaps merely glancing at it by how quickly he turned the pages. When Heero poured the tea into two steaming mugs, Mandred lifted his head again with a smile. Heero sat across from him, adding sugar to his tea while Mandred sipped on his plain.
“Things seem to be going well here,” Mandred said conversationally. “Few uprisings, I take it.”
“Not any in
a long time,” Heero agreed. “There’s been an increase in population and a
bit of a strain on resources with so many people moving to the Earth, but
sickness is dying down. There was even
an outbreak of a known deadly virus in
“Indeed,” Mandred commented. “Sometimes a good attitude can vanquish a problem that seems to have no solution, and often it improves problems with a more concrete nature. Now, what is it you plan to do about Relena? What have you already done?”
“I visited her today,” Heero replied promptly. “I even bought her flowers.”
“I see,” Mandred said. “So you got there and had an awkward conversation and then left?”
“Yeah,” Heero said.
“Did you give her the flowers?”
“No. I was afraid that flowers might send too strong of a message. I don’t really know what I expect to come out of this. Nothing, maybe.”
“But you still want to give it a try?” Mandred inquired.
“I think so. I don’t know. If I give it a try and it turns out that it’s not what I expected…what am I going to do?”
Mandred shook his head. “There’s no way to tell unless you try, but if you enter a relationship expecting it to fail, you will have a lot more difficulty and doubt getting it to succeed. That goes for anything.”
Heero was quiet.
“Perhaps the reason you have waited for so long was because you are not one to do anything expecting it to fail. Are you feeling that maybe there is a likely chance of success at this?”
“I really don’t know.”
Mandred seemed to read him without need for more information. “I see.”
“I told her I would call her,” Heero said. He fought with himself, running over in his mind the things he had just said, and also what Mandred had said, and Duo as well. He purposefully recalled Relena’s face to his mind, the contours of her body, the expressions that were familiar to him, and tried to engage in a scenario where he asked her out and she accepted.
“Do you want her to be your girlfriend or do you just want to date her?” Mandred asked.
Heero’s lowered his eyes. “I think it would make the most sense just to try a date and see what happens.”
“Then do that,” Mandred said with a finality in his voice that suddenly made the picture very clear. “Just call her. Try it now, before you start thinking too much.”
Heero’s eyes widened at the suddenness of the suggestion, but he immediately saw the sense of it. Taking another swallow of tea and half wishing it was alcohol, he stood up. Mandred watched him for a moment and then sat back with the paper, sipping his tea as if he forgot Heero existed. Muttering under his breath that he was being half dared (so he could not refuse) Heero walked into the other room and picked up the phone.