This is a little sadder than my other Relena story, but it is similar. This is written in third person though, not first. I took one of the lines directly from the second episode, something the girls at Relena's school say to her.
Bring on the Reviews!
Spoilers: episode 6
**Braided baka enters the room, gun and scythe in hand**
Duo—Alright, you sissies! The Shinigami is back from Hell, and looking for wall decor! Anyone who doesn't review this fic (cause the author is the sad, morbid, and perverse girl who actually squeals *out loud* every time someone writes something good about her) will get to have their head on my new wall, right between Trowa's lion and that rhino Relena's always playing with in the end credits! I collect hunting trophies people, so you'd better write!
Author—*blink* ….um, yeah. What he said.
Show Us Your Pretty Smile
Soft, her father had said.
Smooth pale skin, blessedly clear of the blemishes that affected so many of her peers at her age. No freckles, nothing except a pink flush that it seemed she could never get to go away.
A pleasant nose, not small, not big, but as average as noses go. Last year a teacher had even called it artsy. Imagine that, an artsy nose. Some people saw things in the strangest ways.
A mouth that was full and pink, with lips that were pliant and smooth, and no need for artificial coloring. There was an older friend who, many years ago, swore to her that she would do anything for lips like that, but she had not taken the girl seriously.
Ears that were small, and round. No earrings, nothing to break the picture.
People called her pretty. Said that she had a smile that made boys want to keep her safe from the world, away from anything that might cause her pain. Too late for that— no one would be able to protect her from the world again. Pretty, and very much like her parents. That's what they said. If they knew, perhaps they would have said differently. Her real parents were much closer in coloring to the other one—her brother. She didn't even look like him. She looked far more like her adopted mother than her first one, she thought with a detached sense of curiosity.
Too bad, such a waste that they had no blood ties to complete the illusion. She couldn't even claim that much of the lady who had raised her. That woman was pretty too, and was what she had always wanted to grow up to be. But that could never happen. All she had of them, in the end, was her father's influence. Her father in all the ways that mattered— his sense of honesty. His morals, his truths. What she was raised to live by. To her, it wasn't nearly adequate.
Relena, show us your pretty smile.
Relena, even without a dress, you're the center of the dance.
Show us your pretty smile.
Now dear, people will always think the best of you if you smile.
People always noticed her when she smiled.
Maybe he would notice her too.
Show us your pretty smile.
Maybe, if he sees what I've done, he'll say my name again, she pondered. Maybe, she thought. Maybe if I make this world a place that has no need for war, maybe then he'll be proud of me. Maybe he'll look at me for no reason other than because he wants to. He's strong. If I become strong too, maybe then he'll want to talk to me, want to be around me. If, she thought, if I change the world, maybe then.
If I do this, if I do that. Listen to her, whimpering like someone's puppy.
Show us your pretty smile.
Yeah. Pretty, but not pretty enough. Not to the one that mattered.
She closed her eyes tightly, and looked away from the mirror, swinging her tawny hair. Her eyes wandered, only to rest once more on the photograph of her parents in the corner. She turned away from that too, and buried her face in her arms. She felt wet streaks slip down her skin, and rubbed at her cheeks furiously. They kept coming, trailing her cheekbones down to her chin, no matter how much her trembling fingers tried to rub them away. Even now, the thought of him could make her cry like nothing else.
No, not to the one that mattered.
Author (Rashaka): I was listening to this really sad Britney Spears song "The Girl in My Mirror" when I wrote this.
*Rashaka shoots Duo an evil glare.*
'Shaka: *gets defensive* I only like two of her songs; that's it. And she didn't even write them. I have never bought anything with her name or picture on it. I think her voice is really annoying in "Oops I Did it Again."
Duo: *sniggers some more* Yeah, right. Whatever you say.
*Rashaka scowls at Duo, then turns back to the audience.*
'Shaka: I hope you all liked it, and I'm sorry if you didn't. I always try to present Relena's character with many layers and new dimensions so that even the Relena-haters will find something in it. Oh and… er… Don't hurt me for the Trowa's lion comment. I'm fragile.
Duo: Stop apologizing!
'Shaka: Er… okay…..
*Lovely braided one turns to camera*
Duo: Now scram, peoples, and write the poor thing some reviews before she goes all Perfect-Soldier on us!
'Shaka: *gives Duo the Heero Death Glare* Hey! That's not nice! I'm not suicidal!
Duo: *rolls eyes*
'Shaka: Don't give me that! You don't have to blame everyone else just cause your stupid self-detonation button didn't work!
Duo: Hey! How'd you know about that?!
'Shaka: Everyone knows about that! See! *pulls out script for episode 19, and points to it* Voila! You get captured, remember.
Duo: *glances at script in Rashaka's hands, then huffs and looks in another direction* You just *had* to bring that up. Get captured once by the enemy and your reputation is ruined for life. And Heero did it first. It wasn't even half way into the show.
Duo: When did you go from drooling over my hair to pointing out my most embarrassing moments anyway?
'Shaka: Oh, right. *drools over Duo and his awesome, totally cool hair*
Duo: Okay people…you can go review now. There's nothing more to see here. Out, out. Shinigami needs his beauty sleep.