The Owl Policy

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: too bad Gundam Seed and its characters legally, sadly belong to Sunrise, Sotsu, and Bandai... but I guess it’s not too bad that I own nothing but the story and, hopefully, the happiness of having reviews you’ll give me afterward...

Note: whew... all in two hours! All rough and un-beta-ed! I’d be more than glad to have one, though...

You will walk safer, less dangerously

In your own path of darkness

Than in the path of the other’s light

Anthony de Mello, Prayer of the Frog 2

-First Part of Whole-

Cagalli Yula Athha couldn’t help but squeak as a bundle of fur jumped onto her the second she peeked her head inside the Zala House.

“Why—you—let go of mmeee—” she squealed between gasps.

“No, Sergeant! Down! Now!”

Her attacker, now seen as a fat Scotland terrier, jumped down from her and ran innocently to hide behind a chubby lady wearing an old style black coat.

“I’m so sorry, Miss,” the lady laughed heartily. “Sergeant always gets excited when he meets a new person. Please pardon him.”

“That’s okay,” Cagalli waved her hand—a little bit sticky of the terrier’s saliva. “I’m just shocked.”

“You are... Miss Athha, if I’m not mistaken?” the chubby lady asked. Her smile widened as Cagalli nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you, Miss Athha. Glad you’ve finally made it here. I’m Jones from the Veteran Service Bureau,” the lady reached her hand out and Cagalli took it. “You’re really a big help we need.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Jones.”

“Now, now, Mr. Zala is in his room—like he always is. It’d be much better if you meet him now, I think.”

“Sure.”

“Oh, before I forget,” Reaching inside her coat’s pocket, Mrs. Jones shooed the Scotland terrier towards the living room behind her. She handed Cagalli a piece of paper. “Here’s my number. All you need to know has been written down and I put the notes on the top shelf right there,” she pointed at a wooden bookshelf across the living room, “but in case you need a help, just call me. You know... a war veteran is never an easy person to deal with.”

“Thank you.” Cagalli took the name card.

“And Miss Athha?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let Sergeant—that terrier—wander too far. Mr. Zala wouldn’t be pleased if that happens.”

Cagalli nodded once again. Saying that she had full trust in the new caretaker, the chubby lady left. The Veteran Service Bureau still had a bunch of works to do, she said. Cagalli understood. It was no big deal whether the Jones lady was here or not, really. The blonde girl perfectly knew what condition she brought herself in to.

Well, at least she thought so.

“Hello? Excuse me?” Cagalli opened the door a bit wider to allow her a better view of the dark room. Classical music was played in the room, but she couldn’t tell whose piece it was. Getting no answer, she decided to call out again louder. “Colonel Zala? Athrun Zala Sir?”

“I heard you the first time you called me.” A plain, deep voice came from the far corner of the room.

Turning her head to where the voice came from, Cagalli found a sitting man facing the window. From her position right now, she could only see his back and nape-length hair silhouetted by the light from outside the window. Tentatively, she spoke, “Colonel Athrun Zala?”

“I’m not deaf,” the man sauntered. “Yes, I’m Athrun Zala. I suppose you’re the new caretaker they hire for me, hmm?”

Cagalli stepped closer to get to the man, and noticed that Sergeant the terrier curled up near the man’s feet, slept. The man was wearing a white coat and a plain black shirt. His hands, fine-boned and calloused, were on his lap. The man turned his head aside when Cagalli was standing beside him.

That was when she noticed his closed eyes. I forget that.

“The name?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Your name. You have a name to call, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes, Sir, pardon my rudeness. My name is Cagalli Yula Athha, Sir. A sophomore college student, majoring in engineering. Mrs. Jones said that yo—”

“Do I ask for more?” the man cut her short.

“No, Sir,” Cagalli swallowed.

“So don’t talk more than you have to do. Miss Athha, I assume that you know what kind of man you’re facing now.”

“Sir?”

“Get me my wheelchair.” Irritation started creeping into Athrun’s voice. He tapped the armrest of his chair once. “That Jones forgot to place my wheelchair back near me. I hope you won’t make the same mistake.”

Cagalli rushed to the set of wheelchair beside the bed and placed it before the man. “Do I have to set it up, Sir?”

“Yes, please.”

Cagalli set the wheelchair up. It was not a difficult job to do since she had ever done it before when she had worked part-time before. She watched Athrun moved from his sitting position to get on to the wheelchair, only with help from his arms. His arms must be really strong, she mused when she realized how much exertion the acts had just cost.

“Alright,” Athrun began. “Let me introduce myself. The name is Athrun Zala. I retired last semester as a lieutenant colonel at the age of twenty eigh—”

“Twenty eight!”

Athrun’s brow furrowed. “You have problem with that?”

“No, Sir, I—”

“Or do you think you’ll meet a disable old man by the name of Athrun Zala?” he continued. “And you said you’re a college student. Read a lot, Miss Athha. You really need it.”

Cagalli could only nod helplessly.

“If there’s anything you want to ask about me, I believe Jones has noted down almost everything about me. You’d better read her notes, Miss. I’m not that kind of a person who will gladly do the same work twice—in this case answering your questions,” he said almost coldly. “Now, please start your work. If you’ve finished reading Jones’ notes, you’ll know that I hate a person who disturbs me when I’m listening to the music.”

Cagalli excused herself and rushed to the door like a starving human to a food. Once she closed the door, she leaned her back onto the door and exhaled heavily.

“And they said he’s a war hero,” she grumbled. “I shouldn’t have thought too high of a hero, really. I shouldn’t...”

On the couch in the living room, Cagalli lazily rolled on to her stomach and flipped a page of Mrs. Jones’ notes back.

“So...” she mumbled, “that man wasn’t lying when he said he’s only twenty eight...”

The notes from the Veteran Service Bureau really helped a lot. Now she knew that Athrun Zala was really a kind of prodigal pilot. He enlisted the air force at the age of seventeen and made it into the special unit at the age of twenty. He was known as an ace pilot since the Battle of Kashmir Highland, age twenty-two, and later on the air force formed a squadron by his name. Squadron Zala was usually placed on the front line in battles.

“Prodigy my ass,” she cursed. “First Kira, and then this man. Why am I always surrounded by people so-called prodigy?”

His military carrier ran like a flash and he was the youngest lieutenant colonel in the air force—correction here since Mrs. Jones had crossed out the information and rewrote it—military history, at the age of twenty-seven. He was the top candidate for the youngest general in time. His last battle was in Anatolia when Squadron Zala was taken home half-destroyed and most of its best pilots were killed. It happened as the squadron acted as a fake trap for the real attack by the name of Squadron Jule.

“Lieutenant Colonel Athrun Zala retired afterward, and was honoured the Medal of Honour and the Medal of Courage by the National Representative Body...” she read the last sentence of Mrs. Jones’ notes, not loud enough to be heard. “A former top ace and a hero... I can’t ask for more, can I?”

“Miss Athha!”

“Coming, Sir!” she hurriedly scrambled to her feet and ran for the calling man. “Sir?” she asked when she arrived at his doorway.

“Would you take Sergeant outside?” Athrun pointed at his window with his right thumb. “He certainly needs that.”

She noticed the half-sleeping terrier at his feet. “Alright,” Cagalli took the rope near Athrun’s CD player and tied it to the collar around Sergeant’s neck. “Come on, boy. We’ll go for a walk,” she pulled the rope. “Anything else, Sir?”

“No.”

Athrun didn’t seem to speak again, so she left hastily and brought the dog along. Remembering Mrs. Jones’ previous advice, Cagalli decided to bring the dog for a little walk just around the block near the Zala House. Sergeant woofed happily as he walked with her, and Cagalli couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She loved dog anyway.

Passing a red telephone box, she stopped for a while. “What do you say for a call?” She laughed as the terrier woofed once as if he was agreeing. “If you say so. Wait a minute for me, okay?”

She inserted her telephone card into the proper place on the machine and waited. A ring, and next, and once more before someone got the phone call on the other line.

“Hello, Athha residence.”

“Kira.”

“Cagalli?” the voice from the other line sounded to be surprised.

Cagalli rested her back on the box’s glasses. “Just calling to let you know I’m alive.”

“Unfortunately alive,” the boy, Cagalli’s twin brother, laughed. “So, how’s life been treating you? I heard from Lacus you’re getting yourself into trouble again.”

“Hell no!”

“Easy, Cagalli. No hard feeling here, okay? So?”

Cagalli grumbled as Athrun’s emotionless face crossed her mind. “I got a war veteran with me.”

“Well, sounds normal enough for me.”

Not really wanting to tell her brother the situation she was in now, she looked at her watch and sighed once. “Kira, I have to go now. Works, you know. Can we meet tomorrow?”

“Hmm... I have free time after 4pm. Is that okay?”

“I love you. In the park, usual place?” Cagalli smiled, imagining her brother cursing. “Alright. Tell Father not to worry about me. See you.”

She hung up the call, all smiling because of her brother’s small ‘take care’ mumble. Sergeant jumped a little when she pulled his rope to continue their small walk.

“So, Sergeant,” she said, fully aware that she would be looked so silly—talking to a dog like that, “what kind of a man is your master?”

Cagalli stopped again in front of a newspaper kiosk. Sergeant barked in annoyance, this time unhappy with the halt. Her hand reached out for the evening newspaper. Its big-sized, capitalized headline, ‘Jule Brings Victory Home’ picked her interest. The name somehow reminded her of something, but she could not exactly remember what. Guess I’ll just have to buy it. She called the kiosk keeper and paid for its cost.

The former ace was in the living room, sitting next to the window, by the time she came home.

“Sir,” Cagalli spoke uneasily, “I didn’t know you’re here.”

Athrun acknowledged her with a simple nod. “Anything interesting out there?”

“Nothing’s unusual, Sir.”

“There,” Athrun pointed at a door on the left of his own bedroom’s door, “is your room. Well, that’s the room for any possible guest actually, but I think you should have it since you’ll stay here.”

“Is that alright?”

“Well, since I hardly have visitor...”

She smiled sadly when his voice trailed away, but Athrun seemed to pay no heed to her and called Sergeant to come onto his lap. Maybe a hero isn’t all almighty and powerful, she thought. Maybe this man isn’t as bad as I think...

“And one thing more, Miss Athha.”

She halted her steps to her new room. “Sir?”

“Put that ‘sir’ off. I’m barely thirty. I’m not that old.”

She considered her next words for a while, then, “Cagalli.”

“What?”

“I’m just nineteen. That ‘miss’ thing makes me sound older.”

Athrun kept quiet for some seconds, thinking, and finally he said, “Athrun.”

She smiled even more before she closed the door of her new room and whispered soft good night to her new housemate.