A/N: So I've recently started re-watching Gundam Seed ( my CHILDHOOD OMG ), and I've noticed that there was a sad lack of the goodness of the BROTP that is Kira and Cagalli. So, I've decided to remedy this by adding to the meager collection available ( with a very, very brief mention of my OC ). I've always thought that Kira and Cagalli shared a very sweet relationship, and I thought it sad that they didn't share more brother/sister moments in the show. If anyone has any requests for more of such stories, comment on what you want me to write, and if the plot bunny strikes/if I like the idea enough, I'll thresh out a plot and post it! Reviews, and favorites are appreciated!

When Cagalli had asked him to walk her down the aisle, he had been taken aback. He'd assumed that she had someone else in mind, and had said as much, naming a few of her uncles and other representatives, but defiant and stubborn as always, his twin had shaken her head and replied quietly, "But I want you to walk me down the aisle."

He couldn't exactly say no to that ( he had always been a sucker for those large amber eyes ).

So, on the bright October morning that Cagalli is to be married, Kira arrives at the Athha mansion, dressed to the nines in a neatly pressed tuxedo. Lacus greets him in the hallway with a bright smile; she looks gorgeous in a pale pink dress with a tight, sleeveless corset and sweeping princess skirts. Stopping to drop a quick kiss onto his cheek, Lacus points out the heavy mahogany door, just a few paces to his left.

"She's waiting for you," Lacus says, sweeping away in a flurry of voluminous skirts, leaving the subtle scent of cherry blossoms and freshly cut grass in her wake. "I have to get Cagalli's gown, but I'll be back soon. Take care of her, okay? She's really nervous."

Cagalli? Nervous? That doesn't sound like her. But he doesn't say anything, except to give Lacus a nod and a reassuring smile. Pushing the door open with a creak, he steps inside, closing the door behind him. The bride-to-be is dressed in a fluffy white robe, but otherwise she looks picture-perfect. Her face is made up as exquisitely as a doll's, with ruby red lips and the barest hint of blush. Her lustrous honey blonde hair is pulled back into a chignon woven with white flowers. She looks gorgeous. But her bronzed eyes are full of panic, and something that Kira can't quite place. She refuses to look at him, aside from the cursory glance that she's given him upon his entering the room.

She's turned her head to rest it on her knees, so that she's able to gaze at the garden. A large, elaborately decorated marquee has been erected in the rear garden for the after party, and already, the guests are beginning to stream into the mansion, the men dashing and suave in their tails, the women preternaturally thin and impossibly stylish in their couture ballgowns as they leave their Town cars. Downstairs, Kira can vaguely hear the front door opening and closing over and over. Voices begin to float up to them, and Cagalli's already pale skin blanches even further.

Oh, dear.

"Cagalli?" Kira asks gently, bending and making eye-contact with her. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from her wan expression, careful not to smudge the makeup that must have taken hours to apply. Her scared eyes seem too round and too large in her face. "Are you okay?"

"'M fine," Cagalli mutters, her tone lacking its usual bite. "I've been asked that question by ten people in the last hour. Quit worrying – you're just as bad as Mana and Lacus."

She'd asked him not to worry, but she hadn't asked him to leave ( he won't go, not until she smiles or looks marginally better – whichever comes first, anyway ). So, careful not to crease his five figure tuxedo, Kira pulls up a chair, taking both of his sister's frigid hands in his. Once small and fragile, years of work and piloting have corded them with calluses and muscle. He holds onto them tightly, rubbing warmth back into chilled fingers that tremble in his grip. He runs a finger over the silver and amethyst ring, but is careful not to dislodge it from Cagalli's finger. And although she mumbles about her displeasure halfheartedly, she doesn't pull away, and Kira sees the tense set to her shoulders slump.

"Better?" He asks, and smiles when she nods. Tentatively, Kira changes the subject, watching her face for any signs of displeasure. "Getting cold feet?"

It's enough to muster a ( weak ) scoff from the blonde. "Hardly."

"This is Athrun we're talking about," Kira agrees with a grin. "The boy you tried to kill on that deserted island, and in the hospital –"

Cagalli at least has the grace to look slightly abashed, right before her chin tilts up, a familiar defensive posture. "He tried to kill me too! And besides, I thought he was just another Zaft soldier at the time –"

"He's also my best friend," Kira adds softly, resting a hand on her thin shoulder. "There's no one else I'd trust you with. He'll take good care of you."

Gold dusted lashes blink once, then twice, but before Cagalli can open her mouth to reply, Lacus glides back into the room, a heavy garment bag hanging over her arm. She makes Cagalli stand so that she can ease the dress over her hair and makeup. Kira turns aside, waiting until he hears Lacus' excited gushing to turn around. His eyes soften at the sight before his eyes.

A tow-headed beauty stares at him, a light blush dusting her cheeks. Her skin is cream and roses, her eyes are huge with excitement and framed with thick lashes. The narrow sheath of the shimmering white dress flares out subtly at the train almost like an inverted calla lily, cut so skillfully that her body looks elegant and graceful, while silver slippers glitter on her feet.

He's seen her in her preferred sea-foam green dress, and once in that wedding dress that she'd been made to wear, but this time, it's different. His little sister is getting married, this time of her own volition, and the sight of her in her gown is enough to make his throat constrict and his eyes burn.

"We have five minutes more," Lacus chimes, with a serene Mona-Lisa smile. "I'll wait outside."

The door slams shut behind her. The piano sounds downstairs – Pachelbel's Canon. Swiping away the moisture gathered in his eyes, Kira watches Cagalli totter about the room in her heels, testing the waters, right before she nearly trips over the hem of her dress ( he hastily turns his laughter into a sudden coughing fit when his sister glares ) and decides to sit back down on her chair before she breaks an ankle. Taking pity on her, Kira collects the flowers from their place on the small side-table so that she won't have to move until is absolutely necessary.

"I know he will," Cagalli replies, accepting the frothy white bouquet that he hands her. And now, she looks more like the Cagalli he knows – hard-headed, brash, and determined – the familiar gleam returning to her eyes. The smell of freesia and lilies envelops them in a soft mist. She chuckles softly, managing a faint upturning of her lips. "It's stupid of me, getting this worked up."

"It's still not too late," Kira remarks absently, tugging a crease in her lace veil straight. "I could spirit you away in the Strike Freedom."

And this time, she actually does break out into a full-fledged grin, showing a row of pearly white teeth. "Didn't you leave it up in the PLANTS?"

"Homing feature," Kira shrugs innocently, though the smile on his face is anything but. "Braelynn installed it for me."

Cagalli shakes her head, her tone saturated with exasperation and love all at once. "Then Athrun would take off in the Infinite Justice after you."

Kira has to concede that one with a sigh. The music slowly morphs into a new song – the traditional wedding march, surrounded by a flood of embellishments. It's time. Kira offers Cagalli his hand, helping her to stand. She grips on tight to it, clutching it as one would a lifeline. Kira squeezes her hand reassuringly, trying to channel as much love and support as he possibly can into that one grasp.

Cagalli surprises him once again when she throws herself into his arms. While he's grown a head or so taller than her, his twin is still as small and as petite as ever – her face barely comes up to his chest, and he rests his cheek on the top of her head. All Kira can see is a riot of white, and her slender arms around his waist are surprisingly tight.

"If he makes you cry again, I reserve the right to break his face," Kira mumbles into her hair, careful not to disrupt any of the silken flowers.

He feels Cagalli's laughter sending vibrations through his chest. "Noted."

They break apart with a smile.

"Shall we, Sister dear?" Kira asks, taking a gallant, exaggerated bow as he offers Cagalli his arm.

The gesture is so unlike him, that it shocks a startled giggle from Cagalli's throat. She returns the favour in kind, bunching up her voluminous skirts in one hand, and executing a wobbly curtsy in her stilettos.

"We shall, Brother dearest," She says, in her best-worst posh accent, accepting his arm with a dazzling smile, one that transforms her from being just pretty to shockingly beautiful.

He pulls her hand through his arm and grasps it tightly. He isn't too thrilled about giving his sister away, but better Athrun than one of those fresh young princes from other countries. He'd seen a few of them, seen how eager they were to have the Head Representative of Orb on their arm, and how quickly they'd changed their minds upon seeing that his sister was a living, breathing person with a mind and will of her own, not just some doll that they could play with as they pleased ( that being said, he'd also derived immense pleasure from scaring them all away ). Kira figures he can make his point clear ( and deliver thinly-veiled threats to his brother-in-law ) during the reception, when Cagalli changes into another gown.

Giving her hand one last squeeze, Kira opens the door, inwardly dreading when he will have to let it go.