Blessed darkness.

Light gently passing across my vision, a haze of consciousness.

Floating, free of responsibility. Free from worry.

I sigh with contentment.

The pleasant breeze tugs at my unruly locks, brushing them up against my face. A tickling sensation, paired with the gentle caress of grass against my fingertips. In a new place, of strangers and loneliness, I revel in this brief moment of familiarity.

Home, it seemed to whisper.

That is where you belong.

It's been a month. A month since we moved here for my mom's job. It would be a new start, she had said.

A new beginning.

But so far, this was not my home. The streets were not my streets; the neighbourhood was not as friendly as the last. I still found my room unfamiliar and sparse, and so I found no solace there. Quiet and reserved, I am almost finished my first week of school. I am alone. The only place I can relax, I find, is in the fields, under the trees.

"Hello, are you alright?"

A shadow blocks the errant rays of sunlight. I feel the warmth trickling from my body, leaving tiny shivers in its wake. I open my eyes, and blink.

----------------------

She stands close, towering over my prone form. Light passes through her blonde hair, wisps escaping her neat hairstyle. She is in a sundress, and her sandaled feet are a foot away from mine.

"Why are you still here? The bell has already rung."

I blink again, too surprised to answer.

She seems annoyed at my lack of response. Huffing, she continues on. "You should get up. Lunch is already over, you know. Aren't you in my English class? Let's go!"

Her audacity surprises me. She knows my face, but I do not know hers. Too caught up, I let her pull me up and lead me to our classroom. As she leads me down the halls, I am surprised that she actually remembers me.

After all, it has only been a few days.

We enter. She knows everyone, and I do not. She is popular, and I am anything but. Her world is different from mine, I am sure. As she strides forward with confidence, I remain behind, like a shadow.

She does not seem to notice.

We sit down for the lesson, and I realize that she is sitting in the seat next to me. When I glance at her, she smiles, and turns back towards the board.

I never even realized how much my life would change because of her.

All of a sudden, I had places to go. I no longer napped in the sunshine alone; instead, I would be eating in the cafeteria with people I did not know. Their smiles were so fake--so smug, so artificial and cold. Hers was the only one that I knew was genuine, and more often then not I found myself in her company.

"Heero, why don't you join the basketball team?"

I turn my head towards her, confused. Sitting outside of the courts, the afternoon sun was masked by the trees we were under. Watching the other jocks shooting hoops, I shake my head.

"I'm not one of them."

She wrinkles her nose.

Puffing out her cheeks like she always does at my answers, I feel the corner of my mouth twitching upwards.

She demands that I give the sport a chance. I tell her no.

Unfortunately, she is too persuasive for her own good.

Sun slipping over the horizon, ball in hand, I stand in the middle of the deserted courts. Everyone has gone home, which makes me relieved. Knowing that her eyes are tracking my movements, I take a breath, and throw.

Swoosh.

I hear a squeal. Retrieving the ball, I glance up, and see her delighted face through the chain link fence. I used to play basketball in elementary, but abandoned it in high school. A couple layups and three-pointers, and I feel confident in myself again.

As I look at her out of the corner of my eye, I notice something unsettling.

Somehow, she seems farther away than before; separate, and not as real as the ball in my hand. But as she yells encouragements to me, I can't help but ignore that twitch in my chest, and return to the court.

I guess this'll be a part of my life once again.

------------------------------

Swoosh.

I lower my arms. Sweat is streaming down my body. The alarm blares, and I feel the whoosh of the world expanding once again, to fill my narrowed vision. I notice, light-headed, that our score has increased.

We won.

The cheers are deafening.

Suddenly, the people surrounding me are not the defense of the other team, but my teammates. Crushed by their strength, it starts to sink in, and my mouth twitches upwards. All that I've been working for, been dedicating myself to, has paid off. The championship is ours.

From behind me, I can hear shrieks of happiness. The cheerleaders, sharing in our high. I turn and see Relena among them. Her eyes glowing, she beams at me. Running up, she hugs me tight, and laughs.

"You did it, Heero! I knew all along that you would be great!" I start to tune out everything; the cheers, the crowd, even the losing team as they slink out of the gym, shoulders hunched.

Breathless, I nod. I had done it.

"Congratulations!"

"...Thanks."

The two of us walk towards the doors. I head to the change room, Relena on my heels.

"I'll meet you here when you're done. Let's go out and celebrate tonight!" She waves before leaving, and I feel myself giving her a small half-smile.

As I push past the doors, my teammates are clapping their hands on my back, putting their arms on my shoulders. Smiling, joking around, I'm a part of the group.

Maybe, I think to myself, maybe I've found my place after all.

---------------------------------------------------

"You don't belong here!"

My cheek stings. Those are her parting words as she runs away, tears running down her face. I watch her sadly. I hold my hand to the reddened part of my face, but it is her words--her anger--which hurt the most.

I can feel myself biting my lower lip, fingernails cutting into my palm from the fists I am making. I stand there, under the lamplight, crickets chirping.

Once again, I find myself alone.

This time, though, it is not only my fears and uncertainties that will plague my thoughts, but hers as well. Her revelations, her truths, her sentiments.

I've hurt her. And she has tried to hurt me.

I could not return her feelings. Could not give her what she wanted, what she had wished for.

She could not accept that. And, in turn, she could no longer accept me.

We are no longer friends, she had said.

I was the only reason that they even looked at you, that you were able to become one of them!

Who do you think you are?! I've done so much for your sake. I am the principal's daughter, and if you can't return my feelings, then don't even think that anyone else will accept you!

You don't belong here!

All of a sudden, I could no longer find the pure, innocent-hearted girl that I had met that one fateful day. I realize that it had been a mask; a facade, a front for the girl who always got what she had wanted until today.

I knew what I was. A nobody. Never noticed until now, and even that little bit of recognition had just shattered before my eyes. When her mask had lowered, so had my status in her eyes.

And apparently, in everyone else's, too.

----------------------------------------------

"What a loser."

Those words drift into my ear, a hurtful reminder.

I can no longer endure the silence, but their words are painful too.

Gazes are penetrating my back, criticizing, looking on with disapproval. I cannot make out what they are saying, but the look in their eyes is proof enough. Behind those fake smiles, I can sense their biting tongues and cutting remarks. A week ago, they would have said hi. Today, it's as if that had never happened.

I am unwanted here.

Rumours overshadow my footsteps. Rumours of my infidelity, of my stupidity, of my selfishness. Of my crimes against the school's most beloved student, blasphemy in their eyes.

They say that I came on to her. Whether true or not, for that, I am no longer one of them.

As I open my locker, my books tumble out. Their covers are ripped, and my notes are everywhere. My sneakers have disappeared, and my team uniformed went missing four days ago. I am unwelcome on the courts. The jocks are on her side.

There is no one on mine.

I head home early. The remnants of my belongings are stuffed in the bottom of my knapsack. Maybe I'll be able to salvage them for next week's test. Perhaps, with a bit of scotch tape, they'll be okay.

If only I could salvage my life as well.