Bel Niente nella Guerra

“Beautiful Nothing in the War”

AC 192 August 31; 0600
Lake Victoria Specials Academy
Northwestern Tanzania

The days leading up to the assessment were a haze in her mind. Zechs became much more silent overall, snapping answers in class and studying more and more. They were like minded in that regard, and though neither of them said they were meeting at the student access library branch, every evening as soon as exercise period was over they found one another at a table in the back and sat at the same table while going over their notes and manuals.

From the library they went to dinner, and then to the simulators. This was where Lucrezia thought that Zechs was pushing himself a little to be in her company, though she didn’t say a word about it. She had been given a special dispensation to utilize the simulators given her loss of practice time because of her hospitalization. Her ID and passcode made the machines function. Zechs could enter the room, but aside from watching her, which he did daily, he could do little else.

Instead of being annoyed by his attendance, she found it soothing. The simulator chair was still a bit scary to her, despite knowing that there was no cockpit involved, and having Zechs nearby relaxed her enough that everything came second nature to her, just as it had before the accident.

Heading stiffly into the hangar, she was unamused to think that the other cadets would have a more favorable hour to be examined at. First thing in the morning… perhaps it had something to do with the idea of training under adverse conditions, but really it just made her internal clock a bit screwy. Rather than shower and dress directly before the assessment, Lucrezia got up early enough to run a lap of the barracks before her shower.

She felt fresher.

As she entered the hangar, she was surprised to find that with the technicians stood Treize. Captain Khushrenada, in the flesh.

Presenting herself before him, she snapped a crisp salute.

“At ease,” Treize said as he returned her salute.

Taking the appropriate stance as she was told, Lucrezia watched the Captain. He was regarding her, and then he turned his eyes towards the rest of the hangar. He seemed as if he were going to say something profound, but the only words that left his mouth were, “I am among those interested in the outcome of this assessment.”

Without more words than that, he headed for the observation tower.

Snapping a salute to the retreating figure, Lucrezia then turned and headed for the stair unit that would take her up to the cockpit. She hesitated a second before putting her foot on the step. This was a different assessment, she reminded herself. This was not like the last time.

Still, fear seemed to be holding her by the wrist as she put her foot on the bottom step and started her way up. She took a deep breath, but her thoughts swam in her head. And then she remembered…

“Maybe you should get some rest tonight,” Zechs said as they reached the simulator wing of the training building. It was when he walked her places that it felt most like they were dating. If they could do such a thing as date in the military, if that sort of thing was possible given their situation…

She crossed the room and began to strap in for her simulator test. “The assessment is in the morning.”

“Lucrezia, you know the Aries unit like the back of your hand.”

She turned her eyes from the screens to look at him. Zechs was beside her chair, leaning slightly over to look down at her. “Power it down.”

Curious, she did as he asked. He moved from her side, and she felt a little nervous at that. More nervous about him than she did about practicing. She hated to admit it, but so much more of her attention was focused on him than…

His hands covered her eyes. “Now power it back up.”

“I can’t see.” He didn’t reply, but made a noise to let her know the obviousness of the situation. Of course she couldn’t see, his hands were over her eyes.

“Trust yourself,” Zechs said. His voice was soft, and low. She hesitated. “You trust me enough to not struggle when I take away your sight. So trust yourself like that. It’ll be enough.”

Her hands moved forward onto the controls, and she swallowed nervously.

Zechs’ arms shifted and his forearms pressed against her ears. “The sound will be muffled,” he said softly. His words said one thing, his actions another. ‘You’re not going to seize up tomorrow,’ the touch of his hands said. And just like that, with his faith and his fingertips touching her, she’d relaxed.

It was so rare for him to say her name that the situation caught in her memory. His words were encouraging… and it felt like he was supporting her. It made her feel warm and relaxed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, accepting the memory and the way it made her feel.

When she opened her eyes, she took the steps two at a time to the cockpit. As though the thought of him had chased it away, fear seemed nowhere in sight.

AC 192 August 31; 1200

Walking, Zechs wasn’t sure where exactly he was going. He knew he was moving forwards, he thought he was going somewhere in specific, but he couldn’t manage to slow himself down enough to know where he was going. The air of anxiety on the base was palpable, but he wasn’t supposed to be a part of it. His assessment was finished. He wondered how the Baronessa had done, but the thought was like a drop of water in a cyclone. As soon as it came it was swept away.

He’d been walking since the assessment. His heart was moving too fast, and he couldn’t seem to slow it down.

The entire base was alien, and he didn’t know where he could feel normal.

Well, that was a lie. He knew who to go to, but not where that person was. He’d already checked down by the shore. A quick scan had revealed that there was no one on the beach that he wanted to encounter. A couple of the teachers, perhaps, and so he’d quickly ducked back up the path to the base.

The library was also empty, and she wasn’t at the barracks or the mess hall. His feet were going in circles, and he felt a little tired. He found himself standing in the sports green. He headed over to one of the bleachers and took a seat.

He tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. It was very warm, still.

Something shifted in the small stadium. Zechs found he wasn’t alone. His eyes searched the bleachers, but there was nothing in front of him. He turned to look over his shoulder, not having been able to tell the source of the sound with the muffle of the helmet on his head. And there she was, stretched out on the bleachers halfway up the stands.

A sense of relief flooded him. He felt his expression relax until a nervous feeling swept over him. How had her assessment gone? Was she injured? Had she frozen? He had been acting, for the past few weeks, as though her passing the assessment was a foregone conclusion. That she could do nothing but pass, and if she had not… If she had not passed, what of them then? He would continue, she would remain.

He frowned at himself. That was Milliardo speaking, questioning, doubting. Zechs knew better. He knew the baronessa had done fine. Or at least he was confident that she had done her best. It had always been more than enough before. He rose from his seat and headed up the bleachers, stopping at the end of her row. Seeing her there prompted the relaxation to soften his expression. He could feel it.

She was stretched out like a cat bathing in the sun. Her arms were just above her head and one of her legs dangled off the metal bench she was reclined on. Her lips were relaxed.

He dared to cross over to stand near her.

“Hello, Zechs,” she said without opening her eyes.

He was surprised that she knew it was him. He thought to ask a question, to query her about that, but the words didn’t leave his lips. She patted the bench by her head with the back of her hand, knuckles rapping the metal gently, and went back to relaxing. There was nothing else for him to do but take a seat.

Looking down at her sleepy face, he saw the sun’s influence on her cheeks. Her dark hair pooled between her hands, and a bit of sweat beaded on her brow. Zechs’ hand moved almost of its own accord, and he was brushing the sweat from her brow almost before he knew what he was doing. She didn’t object. He let his fingers brush her hair back from her temple a little.

The dark locks were soft.

It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. He studied her face, and shifted his hand a little to trace her hair line, letting his thumb brush against the scar that curved her left eyebrow in a slightly different arch than the right one.

Her eyes opened, and she looked up at him.

“So,” she wet her lips slightly. “How did yours go?”

Zechs felt his expression relax further than it had upon finding her there.

“That good,” she said. One of her hands lifted and she brushed her fingers against the side of his face. For a moment, they stayed there like that. And then her cheeks darkened in a blush and she sat up, pulling their hands from each other. “Well I’ve been in the sun too long, and I need a drink.”

Zechs watched as she hoped over the bleacher bench below them and headed for the aisle. She was to the stairs when she paused to turn and look for him.

“Well? Coming?”

He rose and moved to follow her, ignoring the tired feeling in his ankles.

The mess hall was quiet, which was a blessing. Some of the cadets were camping out awaiting the results of the assessment, which was stupid, she thought. It wouldn’t change the results if they were diligent after the fact. It was better, though, to think about that than to let herself be caught up in Zechs’ presence. It was easy, and that was scary.

On the bleachers, just before… her heart had started pounding in her chest. It really wasn’t fair. He seemed so calm about things all the time. And his touch had been so gentle… so welcome…

But his thumb had stroked her eyebrow. Almost a question, given their new manner of talking… and she had been reminded why she was at the Academy. Why she was in the military… Why she was not at home.

And that had reminded her of her brother’s most recent invitation.

Their trays found the table they were going to sit at, and Lucrezia found she couldn’t quite meet Zechs’ eye, even through the helmet. Would Treize be going? Would Zechs? His hand reached out and lifted his water glass. His hand paused on the glass, and she followed his quiet suggestion and looked up.

“Yes?” he asked softly.

“Anto is parading me about again tonight,” she said in the same soft voice. “I have to go to the sally port and pick up the dress in an hour or so.”

She watched Zechs’ expression, and wasn’t sure what happened to change about it, but there was something about the way his lips tilted that made her think he was remembering something. Sourly, she thought he had a great advantage on her in being able to hide things. He got her whole face to analyze, and she most often only had the tilt of his lips to deal with.

“The Countess of somewhere or other is holding a…” Lucrezia turned to glance at the table around them. They were seated alone, and because of the assessment there were not bodies filling the table. There was room, and she lowered her voice a touch.

His lips were tilted in a slight smile, she noticed when she returned her eyes to him. “I know,” Zechs replied.

“Am I being sent to the firing squad alone?” she asked.

“Not entirely, no,” Zechs replied. “Though your brother has never been fond of me.” He took a sip of his water. “Carinthia.”

“What?” she asked. She had been trying to figure out when Anto had been open with his displeasure with Zechs… well, after the obvious example… and by thinking on that she had no idea what Zechs meant by naming and Austrian state.

“The Countess of Carinthia,” he said, sipping his water.

The way he said it… the way that his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth with the slur of consonants somehow reminded her of the way that it sounded when he said her first name. Her heart thumped harder in her chest at that, and she picked up her own water glass, trying to look normal.

“Although it may be a tad unseemly for you to be on my arm the whole evening.”

“I doubt Anto would let that happen.”

“Well, I’ll have you for most of it, I’m sure.”

Trying to look cool was rapidly failing. She looked down at her water glass, and tried to fight the blush that was threatening on her cheeks. Lucrezia didn’t know what it was about the exchange, but her heart wouldn’t calm down. She hated those things, didn’t she? She was angry at having to go to them, and… there were better things to…

Zechs tapped the ankle of her boot with the toe of his, and she looked up at him.

Through the eye holes of his mask, she saw the blue of his eyes clearly, and her mouth went dry. He tipped his head forward slightly, a question she might have missed before. “No, I’m… I’m fine, Zechs…”

A commotion rose in the mess hall, but she ignored it.

“If you’re sure,” he said, turning his head to the side to look up as one of the orderlies brought in the rosters containing the scores on the assessment. “Shall we check?”

Dumbly, almost, Lucrezia nodded. Together, almost entirely in synch, they pushed their chairs back from the table and headed towards the roster containing the outcome. Unlike the other cadets, the two of them moved sedately, side by side.

The orderly carrying the list shifted back, pushed by the crowd, and the din of the cadets overtook whatever noise of protest he had as he was moved away. The boys jostled one another in eagerness to see the list. As cadet Zechs and cadet Noin approached, however, their solemnity seemed to bleed into the cadets grouping around the rosters.

In retrospect, it would be hard to say, for any of the cadets, what made them quiet and step back. Certainly Zechs made no threatening moves towards them, nor did Noin’s expression alter from the look of vacant concentration on the paper waiting in front of them. But whatever it was, even if it was just the presence of the two of them there together, the exuberant cadets quieted and parted.

The last cadet, standing next to the roster, with a finger on it, was half-turned to look at one of his compatriots when the pair of them approached.

His expression froze a moment before his finger shifted and he glanced at the paper a moment before turning to check the names on the duty uniforms of the two cadets standing before him. “C-cadet Noin,” he stammered. “Cadet M-M-Merquise…”

A hush fell on the quieted cadets.

“C-congratulations, Noin,” the young man before the roster said, stepping back a step and snapping a salute.