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He’s glad he made it there when the sky is still nice, bright and blue. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to, what not with the latest little stunt he’d somehow managed to pull. 

Gilbert Durandal isn’t quite a vengeful man, and in most cases, he was able to accept his losses and build something better out of his past bitter defeats. But when he’d caught wind of where the Destiny Plan was headed, well, not even a dead man could stay still in his coffin, could he? 

In retrospect, he should’ve seen it coming- no, perhaps he did see it coming. Aura Maha Khyber was never exactly subtle about her grand ambitions when it came to the- their Destiny Plan. Hers weren’t ideas that Gilbert could fully see eye-to-eye with her on, and looking back, he can’t quite tell why he never tried making it clearer. Perhaps it was his respect towards her, his senior researcher, who had taught him many, if not most of the knowledge he’d earned during his tenure at Mendel. Perhaps it was his fascination and admiration towards her passion, for he’d never met anyone as dedicated to one’s cause than her. Perhaps it was simply because he sought validation oh so much, when next to no one was willing to lend a listening ear about his proposals for the said plan. 

When the bullet- Rey’s bullet- had pierced his heart that day, he’d convinced himself that he was dying with no regrets left behind. Yet to his horror, the next thing he realized was he was neither dead or regretless, and perhaps the weight of what he’d done hit him, the moment he heard of what Aura was about to do. 

That, or perhaps, for once, he just didn’t want to lose. The Destiny Plan was his, and if it was to die, it would be buried with him. 

And so he did what he thought he’d never do- he decided to be a little petty. 

He heard the Accords had taken over the Requiem, and from that moment on he’d long guessed that it was a losing battle for Aura and her so-called children. And so, the dead man arose from his grave, hijacking one of the lunar base’s communication lines, just for a moment, just for the self-satisfaction of laughing at her. 

‘M-my children….! I’ll burn away both Orb and the PLANTs!!’

‘It’s been a long time, Aura.’ 

‘Y-you!’ 

Upon the plan’s initial execution, he’d made arrangements to ensure its continuity, even in grim cases where he did not survive. He had believed, at one point, that his Destiny Plan was truly the hope humanity needed. 

Where did it all change, he wondered. 

‘I’m doing this also for your sake, Gilbert! I shan’t let our hard work be fruitless!’ 

And perhaps Aura was being honest. Perhaps it was indeed, what she once had promised him. 

Yet for some reason, the words, at that moment, rang empty, and all they gave him was the desire to laugh even more, more and more. 

An existence created for pre-determined purposes, who knew what they, it- should be. What it should do, should say, who it should be with, should procreate with. 

Is such existence even possible to create? 

For one, Rau Le Creuset certainly wasn’t one of them, at least, not until the very end. While Rey Za Burrel-- 

A hand on his shoulder interrupts his thoughts, and he looks up to see a young man- his long, blond locks framing the sides of his face, looking intently at him. 

“Are you sure it’s wise to stay here so long, Gil?” As if the young man could read his thoughts, Rey Za Burrel asks him. “They might find you.” 

True enough, they might. He was fully aware of the risks that came with his foolishness to contact Aura. The line may have been intercepted, may have been overheard, and if anyone aboard the Millenium or one of the Gundams had heard him, there is a non-zero possibility of them tracking him down, and not for a friendly visit. 

“You are free to leave me here then,” he tells Rey, even though he already knows what the other would say. 

And surely, Rey scoffs, coming out a little more playful than it should be. “I would prefer I kill you than them.” 

The remark is welcomed by laughter, which in turn, sounds a little softer than it should. The Rey from just a year prior would never dream of threatening the ex-Chairman's life, much less making a joke out of it. The sweet Rey who listened to all his orders, who trusted him, who came to him and hugged him when the world felt a little too much of a burden for him to bear. 

The man standing by him was not that- his Rey. And perhaps, he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

He’d half-expected to be intercepted on his way to this colony- perhaps by someone from Compass, perhaps by someone from the PLANTs who heard of his potential survival. Somehow, he was able to make it there in one piece, undisturbed. 

He and Rey are now watching over a summer cottage just below a row of green hills. While he somehow, by some twisted miracle (he’d preferred to call it a curse, really) managed to come out of the Messiah explosion alive, he certainly didn’t come out unscathed. Over half of his body suffered from second-degree burns, with parts of it being worse than some, suffering from third-degree. Even now, a year after the incident, many of the resulting wounds still hurt- itch if he’s lucky enough, but most nights, they’re more than enough to keep him from sleeping. The explosion had also rendered him paralyzed from the waist down, and he’d felt a little guilty that Rey had to push him on his wheelchair up the hills upon their arrival at the colony. He knew Rey would not entertain an apology, lest from him, so he’d settled with a quick gratitude, which the young man quietly accepted.

He’d visited these hills before, a few times, which overlook a cottage- one owned by the Gladys family. The cottage was originally purchased by Talia’s grandparents, and she’d told him the story about how her family would spend their summer vacations there. There’s also a beach about fifteen minutes drive away, which makes it even more a perfect location. 

There was a time in their relationship when she’d promised to take him on one of their summer trips to that very cottage, once she’d mustered up the courage to formally introduce him to her parents. He remembers being abashed, giddy if anything, to think of a life together with Talia. A twenty-year old Gilbert, who innocently thought he was about to spend the rest of his life with the woman he cherished with all his heart. 

After her untimely death, her parents had taken custody of her son- the now twelve-years old William. It just so happens that Gilbert chooses to visit right on the week the Gladys family is occupying the cottage for their annual vacation, a mere coincidence and nothing more. 

He’d never met William, and even during their numerous rendezvous after her husband’s death, Talia had never once shown him pictures of her little boy. Perhaps out of courtesy? Out of guilt or shame? He could never quite tell. 

He can tell the boy has grown up well, taken care of and loved, and Gilbert continues to watch in silence, from a distance, as William runs out the cottage door, presumably to play. 

There’s a tinge of anger in the pits of his stomach as he sees William- the way his blond hair is only a tad lighter than his mother’s, the way his eyes scrunch the same way Talia’s did when he smiles, the way just looking at the little boy can instantly take him years back, as if he is still the young man utterly in love. 

Even now, he’s still nothing but a foolish, miserable man. 

“Gil.” 

Rey’s voice once again brings him back to the present, and he knows, simply by the way he calls his name, that something urgent has come. 

Or perhaps, ‘has finally come,’ would be more accurate. 

From across the hill where they are, Kira Yamato steadily approaches them. Coming out from the jeep parked behind him are two other people that both Rey and Gilbert are very much familiar with; Shinn Asuka and Lunamaria Hawke. 

And so, they have found him. 

“What do you want to do?” Rey asks, as if he hasn’t already known the answer. 

“Give us a moment.” 

The blond simply nods, leaves his side and treads across the hill, passing Kira Yamato on his way. 

--

Shinn Asuka stands in place, watching, his bright, crimson gaze never leaving the figure that is slowly approaching him. 

Rey Za Burrel has always been, for the lack of better word, a beautiful young man- with his long, flowing blond locks, cerulean eyes that always remind Shinn of the sky, and perfectly sculpted facial features that Shinn has only ever seen on professional models. 

And he still is- Rey is still as charming as ever. He notices how his hair has grown longer the past year, that it’s now reaching down the middle of his back, and the sharpness in the way he looks at him seems to have never left. 

But there is something different this time, in the way Rey looks at him, as if they haven’t seen each other for five years instead of one, as if he barely recognizes Shinn, as if he’s lived another lifetime since they last met. There are dark circles underneath his eyes now.

For a moment he isn’t quite sure how to greet one of his best friends, one that he hasn’t seen in one whole year, one whom he thought was dead. 

“Rey!” 

Thankfully, it’s Luna who breaks the silence between them, and if she also feels the strange way Rey doesn’t quite feel like… Rey anymore (or at least, the Rey they know), at least outwardly, she seems to deal with it better than Shinn does. 

“Lunamaria,” he calls her, in return, the smallest smile surfacing across his lips. It should be what Rey would do, how Rey would act, and yet, it still doesn’t feel quite right. “Shinn.” 

He feels his blood freeze cold, just for a moment, upon hearing his name in his tongue. 

“I know both of you must have a lot of questions.” 

And they do, they really do, and Shinn wishes he can say all the thoughts swarming in his head, scream them out on top of his lungs until Rey can’t keep that ridiculously impassive face any second longer. 

“We’re just glad you’re alive.” 

It’s Luna’s words that break through his thoughts once more, and it’s Luna’s hand that finds its way to grab a hold of Rey’s shoulder, the other one reaching out for her other companion. 

Shinn looks at her, looks at Rey then back at her, as if processing what it is that he should be doing. 

“Right, Shinn?” 

She asks, and she doesn’t judge, he knows she doesn’t, because she understands him like that. And from the way Rey looks at him, perhaps he knows, that Rey understands too. 

And so, he slowly takes her hand.  

—

“Do you not plan to visit him at all?” 

Durandal takes another few moments to watch the young boy in silence, and it doesn’t surprise him when the boy is then gently interrupted by his caretaker, who seems to tell him that they have guests visiting. 

Upon introduction, Murrue Ramius and Mu La Flaga then approach the child, with the former then going down on one knee to greet the young boy. William Gladys can’t possibly know who these two adults are, but he responds to them with a polite, if not shy bow. 

“Perhaps you’d think of me as a bitter, pathetic man, if I tell you I won’t be able to look that young boy in the eye without any feeling of resentment in my heart.” 

Kira Yamato offers no response to the remark. He doesn’t need to. 

“Regardless, he’s beautiful. I’m sure he’s everything Talia wished for.” 

The younger man watches on for another moment, as Mu gingerly pats William on the head and hands him a gift, a toy plane model he, Murrue and Kira had bought together after their last visit to Orb a few days prior. The young William seems to receive it with so much eagerness, that Kira can’t help but smile at the exchange. 

“Are you here to kill me, Kira Yamato?” 

The question doesn’t quite come as a surprise, though it still fazes him, just a bit, at how calm the other man asks it. Perhaps Gilbert Durandal has always been this sort of man. 

“If I were, your confidant wouldn’t have left you alone with me so readily.” 

The black-haired man hums, urging him to continue. 

“Why did you go into hiding?” He’d pondered on how he could best ask the question, all the way through their voyage there. It surprises him how easily it ends up coming out right at that moment. “For someone who was so hellbent in executing his plan, even at the cost of thousands of innocent lives, it’s strange that you gave it up when you were alive all this time.” 

“The fact that I was quite literally, physically incapacitated surely makes for a satisfying answer?” There’s humor somewhere, lacing the answer, even if Kira doesn’t quite share it. “Another part of the answer is, my dear confidant would have put another bullet in my chest had I tried doing anything remotely….suspicious.” 

“Then why did you make that call, if you didn’t intend to make your survival known?” Even in his best attempt to sound neutral, he can’t quite bite back the venom from seeping into his words. 

Durandal hums once more, a more sing-song tune to make his amusement more evident. 

“Would you not roll in your grave, were you dead and someone had claimed your ideals in such an abhorrent way?” 

Perhaps he would. Perhaps he wouldn’t. He hopes he will not have to die in fear someone will commit such unforgivable atrocities under his name. 

But then again, he has seen the state of the world, has seen too much of it, has fallen victim to it again and again and again. 

He wouldn’t be the least surprised. 

Durandal chuckles, a little too easy-going, a little too comfortable, and Kira once again wonders if the man had told him another not-quite lie, under that smile that never seems to fade, not quite. 

“Aura Maha Khyber was an excellent researcher, and as her junior I’d always respected her. There was never a doubt in my mind that I needed her to make Destiny Plan a reality.” 

He stops amidst his words. Perhaps in respect to the late queen, perhaps in resentment. Kira can’t quite tell. 

“But somewhere along the way our vision… differed, let’s say,” he then continues, and there’s slightly more weight in the way he chooses his words. “Such is human nature, isn’t it? The moment we are given power, we always want more for ourselves.” 

Perhaps that was why Gilbert Durandal decided to go into hiding, upon realizing he wasn’t beyond such human errors, that he and nobody else in the world should have the authority to execute such an absurdly, dastardly insane plan. 

At least, Kira hopes that it could perhaps be the reason, even if he now knows better not to put faith in such men who’ve long strayed from their own humanity. 

“What do you plan to do now?” 

He’s not sure if he wishes to know the answer, and yet, he asks anyway. 

“What can one man in my current state do to change the world?” 

“Plenty,” Kira says, immediate, and he doesn’t miss the way the corner of Gilbert’s mouth ticks upwards, just slightly. It’s always more than enough. “Despite everything, despite Requiem, many of the PLANT residents still support you and your ideals.” He grits his teeth, bites his tongue just for a second, as he can feel bitterness surging in his mouth the more he thinks about what he’s about to say next. “Despite everything, there are plenty of people who believe you were right, and criticize the current neutral policies as passive and cowardly.” 

“It seems to bring you great pain to admit that.” Durandal says, and there’s something shadowing the ever-present amusement in his voice. 

“It does,” more than anything, it surprises him that the words didn’t come out as loud, as angry he’d expected them to be. “It does. I can’t, and will never understand why anyone would wish for such a future, where the likes of you grant yourselves the ability to take other people’s free will.” 

This time, the long haired man doesn’t respond, and instead, his dull eyes follow the young William down the hills- where the boy runs around the field, arm raised with the brand new toy plane in hand with no care in the world. 

“And yet,” Kira continues, taking the silence as his cue. “Perhaps you were right, when you told me a year ago, that perhaps this is the kind of future people want.” 

Another round of silence ensues, with only the wind accompanying the still air between them. 

“People always say they despise war,” when Durandal finally responds, his eyes haven’t left the young William. “That they wish for nothing but peace, for the chance to live their lives with those they love.” 

Little William trips, which causes his caregiver to immediately rush to his aid, Ramius following suit right behind her. 

“And yet, the truth is it is simply never enough, is it?” 

The two women are now propping William up. Thankfully, it seems there’s no injury other than a small scratch on his knee. 

“You are given the chance to love and be loved, you then crave something better. A better partner, someone with better physique, with better upbringing, with better education, better jobs. You are given that, you then crave for a bigger house, for more wealth than you can imagine, for a family.” 

Children. He bites his tongue, for a moment. Just enough. 

“And when you have that, even then, your children will also never be enough. They always have to be better. More beautiful. Smarter. Stronger. And thus we reach where we are where only those deemed perfect are given the right to simply exist.”

He turns his head, just enough, and his eyes meet Kira’s. Perhaps a part of him is glad to find the same glint of youth, stubbornness- hope, still shines so brightly even under all the wear and tire. 

Or perhaps, it irks him all the more. 

“That is how we Coordinators came to be, to begin with.” And when he flashes him another one of his familiar smile, the amusement behind it dims momentarily. “That is why you’re here, Kira Yamato.” 

‘You’re wrong!’ is what he wants to say. ‘I’m a normal human being, just like everyone else!’ is what he wants to oh, so desperately say.

‘People like that are a mistake!’

He hears Flay Allster’s voice- supposedly a ghost from the past; a ghost who supposedly had moved on, supposedly having found peace, no longer shackled by her fears. 

And yet, sometimes, every now and then, her terrified voice echoes in his ears, in his dreams, and he wonders again and again, if he’d made any difference since then, since the young woman tragically perished right within his reach. 

Had he gotten any stronger? Weaker? Had he even changed at all? 

“And perhaps you came to see me because you’ve finally accepted that irrefutable truth,” Durandal continues, and Kira notices the way the man’s gaze has now returned to William, now seated on a bench, gleefully drinking a box of juice.

“There will always be Gilbert Durandals and Aura Maha Khybers in this world. You strike one down, ten more will eventually appear. The Accords, the Extendeds, all of them are simply different fronts of what humanity truly desires.” 

It aggravates him, the way Gilbert Durandal speaks, the way he speaks of the truth. It aggravated him a year ago, and it aggravates him now. No matter how many times he tries to reject his very notions, day and night, every time he would come to the conclusion that at the very least, there is, in fact, some semblance of truth to it. That all of this, the war, the pain and tears, the utter selfishness of humanity, is simply the unfortunate nature of those who live. No matter how hard he fights and bleeds and cries for peace, it is simply, never enough. 

It will never be enough. 

“But surely,” Kira isn’t sure how he manages to say the words out loud, when his voice shakes a little too much to his liking, when he can feel himself wavering, once again. “Taking people’s free will is not the answer.” 

“Yet here you are, having this very conversation with me.” When the response comes, the older man, for once in their entire conversation, sounds stern, that for a moment it almost feels like a threat once more. “The ideals you sold me did not last even one year.” 

It really, truly aggravates him. 

“This was also caused by the Destiny Plan.” 

A weak, barely useful argument. Yet somehow, he feels the need to say it, to remind him of what he did and is still doing despite effectively being a dead man. 

To that, Durandal laughs- a short laugh with no heart behind it. “Is that what this all comes to?” He then looks at Kira, and offers a smile that almost, almost looks genuine. “If you truly think killing me for good is the solution then by all means, you are welcome to put a bullet in my head right now.”

There’s certainly taunt behind those dull eyes, and something else. Yet his smile doesn’t waver, as he simply sits in front of him, as he waits. 

Kira does not move. 

“But no,” the older man then shakes his head. “That is not why you’re here.”

He knew. 

That’s what Kira believes. He already knew why he was there. Perhaps he’d realized it some time amidst their conversation, or perhaps he’d known from the very beginning. He knew and he’d strung him along perhaps just for the fun of it. 

It really, really aggravates him. 

“Would you consider helping us?” 

And perhaps, what aggravates him more than anything is the fact that, despite it all, he’s going forward with what he came for. He wants to. He has to. 

“Not as the Chairman of the PLANT Supreme Council. Not even as a Coordinator.”

The air between them stills again. 

“I’m asking if you’d consider helping us as a fellow human who wishes for a better future for this world.”

He’s not sure what he expects from the former Chairman. Perhaps a laugh, shrouded in mockery, perhaps a shrug, completely dismissive, or perhaps a simple, straightforward rejection. 

He looks at Gilbert, for anything- any form of reaction, any form of ridicule, if at all. Yet, the way he looks at him hasn’t changed, and the smile he carefully puts on display remains still, as it always does. 

“Fascinating.” 

That isn’t quite the response he expected to hear. 

“It truly fascinates me, the way your mind works. Surely you did not seek help from a terrible, terrible dead man after you’ve celebrated his very death?” 

“Do not misconstrue what I’m asking of you,” Kira says, defensive. “I am not offering you any sort of treaty out of friendship”. 

“And what is it exactly that you’re offering? A misguided faith that I shall serve humanity out of the goodness of my heart?” 

Kira takes a moment to take in his words- reflect on them. He decides it truly doesn’t matter all that much. 

“Misguided? Perhaps. This may as well be another one of my mistakes that I will regret for the rest of my life. I do not trust you, but you may have something that we’ve always lacked.” 

The smile across Durandal’s lips widens, just a bit, and Kira wonders if that is exactly what the other man wishes to hear. 

“I wonder whose belief it actually is. Yours? President Clyne’s? Or someone else’s entirely?” 

Kira closes his eyes, for a moment, just for another one. And when he opens them once more, he finds that Durandal’s attention has never left him. 

“I believe the answer to that doesn’t matter to you.” 

The former chairman laughs, again, but somehow, somehow, this time it sounds less restrained, less of a mockery, almost as if there’s something akin to real joy in it. 

Or perhaps, once again, he’s seeing something that isn’t truly there. 

“And what if we once again find ourselves in differing paths?” 

‘If I turn out to be yet another version of Aura Maha Khyber, or perhaps I turn out to simply be an extension of her. If your judgment is, once again, wrong.’ 

“Will you be able to, in all your conscience, point your gun at me and claim my life with your own hands?” 

‘Or will you, once again, cower behind the unrealistic ideals you’ve built to protect no one but yourself?’ 

“Or perhaps when it comes to it, you will have to rely on other people to dirty their hands to keep yours clean, once more?” 

Kira stands his ground, keeps his eyes fixed on nothing but the other man. The latter smiles. 

“What does your ideal say, Kira Yamato?” 

—

“Why did you stick with him?” 

If there’s one thing Rey has always admired about Shinn Asuka, it’s that he’s the most genuine person he’s ever met in his life- even if his is one that’s unfortunately not at all long. His joy, his fears, his sadness, misery and anger, all reflect in his face and words all too easily, that he’s always found it hard not to find comfort in the young man, to some extent. 

He’s naive, and it makes him easy to manipulate, and he’s quick to anger, which makes him easy to be led on. 

But he’s honest, and in their world, that’s already more than what most people are. 

Rey knew the question was coming, he could see it in both Shinn and Luna’s eyes the moment they saw him, yet, where Luna seemed to hesitate, trying to find the right moment to drop the question, Shinn, as always, just went with it. Just like old times. 

Truly, just like old times. 

“Someone had to look after him.” 

Then too, he can see it in his friends’ eyes- the complaints, the disagreement, the scorn that was all so ready to spill out their tongues. He supposes even Shinn, who once put his full, blind, childlike faith in Durandal now has nothing to say to even remotely defend the former Chairman. 

“I didn’t do it for him,” he says, before either of his friends could voice their complaints. “The moment I woke up and realized I had survived the Messiah, I knew I’d lost all my purpose.” 

“That’s not--” Of course, Shinn already tries to interject. And of course, Luna stops him in his tracks. It gives Rey an odd sense of comfort to feel as if not a moment has passed between them three, despite the reality. 

“I cursed the fate that let me live. The fate that let me and Gil live. We both should’ve died. There was no more hope for twisted men like us.” He turns his head slightly, towards the direction where he last left Durandal with Kira Yamato. From the distance, he can vaguely make out their figures. At the very least, he’s certain Kira has not killed the other man. “Yet this life I don’t deserve… allowed me to see the world the way I’ve never been able to. Away from the battles, from the never-ending politics, from the morbidity of a mobile suit cockpit… perhaps there are still things to cherish about humanity underneath all its wickedness.” 

He knows Shinn is looking at him in that specific, particular way- the way he looks at people when he isn’t sure if he should say what he wants to say, lest he ends up offending someone once again and it’d earn him a punch or two in the face, once again. 

“Are there, though?” 

And he knows Shinn will speak his mind anyway. He always does. 

“If the Accords showed us anything, it’s that time after time again, humans will always end up leading themselves towards their own destruction, out of their selfishness. At times like these I wonder if anything’s ever worth fighting for.” 

Time after time again, innocent, unfortunate children will be separated from their family as a cause of war. Time after time again, other innocent, unfortunate children will take up arms, often in the name of revenge and childish, naive sense of self-righteousness. Time after time again, the same innocent, unfortunate children will be made into weapons of war against their will. 

‘Shinn… you said you’d protect me.’ 

He’d cried out all the tears he could afford, and now those words echo in the hollowness of his chest. Instead he shifts his gaze, follows the way Rey watches over the two men in the distance. 

“And that’s why we’re here, I guess…” 

Rey nods, and for the following while, they stand in silence, letting their thoughts flow along with the slow, gentle breeze of wind. 

“Will you choose to fight again, if it comes to it?” 

The blond looks at him, and for one reason or another, he smiles. 

--