Traitor to the Cause
Epilogue
"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'm 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.
"So, have you talked to her?"
"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.