The glistening of the sunset seeped into Setsuna's almost unfurnished apartment. A single small bed served as his seat, hands resting on the soft blanket as his eyes followed the slow dance of dust motes. They shimmered and shifted in the ember light, fluttering like tiny, ephemeral sparks before dissolving into the shadows.
Slowly, he reached out absently-minded, fingers brushing the air, as if trying to capture the fleeting particles. They merely scattered around as he observed the warm ray of golden light on his skin.
He was temporarily stationed there. Japan. This place, this country, wasn’t too bad. There was no loud gunfire. No metallic stench of blood. No thundering pulse hammering in his ears. The silence of solitude drowned away the roaming memories on the back of his mind. The outside felt distant.
He was painfully aware of ongoing conflicts across the world, in multiple places, many forgotten by most. But here, right now, he could see a bit of why people would overlook those events. In this sheltered peace, everything melted away with the sun, blanketed by the shadows.
His trance, however, got interrupted by a muffled knocking. His body tensed by instinct, despite the sound being hesitant, almost unsure, the years of past experiences taught him to be wary of the surroundings.
It certainly wasn't in his apartment, yet his mind raced. He slowly opened the door a tiny bit, just enough to peek through the slight crack. He was hoping to scan the situation quickly and go back inside, yet an unexpected sight caught him off-guard.
An unknown girl.
She stood in front of the Crossroad residence. Her long black hair contrasted with the warm hues filling the hallway. Her arms clutched a stack of papers close to her chest, almost like some kind of shield. Her stance was stiff with tension as she knocked again on his neighbor's door yet no answer came.
Setsuna sighed in relief, no immediate threat found. However, in this instant of carelessness, the door handle slipped from his hand, a loud creaking sound echoed in the hallway.
Their gazes met awkwardly. Intuitively, she ducked her head, half hiding her face behind the papers she carried. Her big dark eyes stared dumbfounded at him for a few long seconds. She looked slightly younger than him. The oversized gray hoodie she wore made her presence appear even smaller, blurred out by the sun. She felt so out of place in that eerie, quiet building, that Setsuna convinced himself that maybe she wasn’t even real. He had imagined someone like her before, after all. He had the impression that, if he touched her, she’d disappear like the dust vanishing in his grasp.
"Um, hi," her shy voice grounded him once again. “I’m Saji’s classmate. Do you know if he’s home?”
Saji. Setsuna tilted his head slightly. Right, Saji Crossroad, the neighbor that always tried to strike up conversations. Indeed Saji once mentioned studying engineering, but the apartment next door had been silent all evening.
In response to the girl’s question, he shook his head once, not trusting himself to speak. Words felt heavy in his mouth, unnecessary.
"I see," she looked disappointed, staring at the papers in her hand. "Well, do you mind giving these to him when he's back? He disappeared from class today, we got in the same group, and those are important assignments, and…"
"No."
His sole word came out sharp, automatic. He simply didn't want to.
She blinked a few times, a bit startled by his bluntness. He turned away, retreating into his apartment.
However, just before closing the door, he took one last glance at her. She stood there among the shadows expanding through the hallway, looking down.
"Do you want me to leave?" her voice was soft, almost cautious.
It was such a simple question, almost too simple, yet the way she asked it struck a chord. It wasn't just the words, but her undertone of resignation, the look in her eyes. It felt familiar. He recognized when one got too used to being disposable.
Some memories flickered in his mind. The faces of comrades. The desperate prayer of a child in the warzone. All blurred and fragmented, like static on a broken transmission.
"Not really." That was all he could reply.
"Do you want me to stay, then?" she tilted her head slightly, her expression unchanging.
He didn't respond. Instead he stepped back into his apartment, leaving the door ajar. Followed by long seconds of silence, it took a while until her careful footsteps echoed in his room.
She didn't say anything as she entered, quietly sitting on the floor, carefully placing the stack of papers beside her. Setsuna remained standing, watching her, unsure what to make of her presence, uncertain of her intentions - or his own.
"Do you live alone?" she asked, breaking the silence, looking around at the empty apartment.
He nodded, offering no further explanation. She didn't press him, and the quietness stretched on as they watched the sun slowly disappearing behind the window, painting the walls in soft shadows. Peace was back.
It wasn't until the dim light highlighted her features that Setsuna noticed the details he had overlooked before. The band-aid on her cheek, bad scarring trailing down her neck. She had a youthful face, yet her blank expression felt worn down. He had his doubts at first, but she didn’t seem to be from that place. She didn't belong here. Not in this country, not in this moment.
Just like him.
The way she sat there, almost vulnerably so, stirred something deep within him, like an old, half-forgotten instinct. Maybe she wasn’t too different from the people he fought alongside. They’d be her age and have that look in their eyes, if only he had been able to do something back then.
But…
He had to remind himself not to dwell on the past.
That was then.
Though the phantom weight of a rifle remained in his hands, he wasn’t powerlessly praying for some vague higher power anymore. He found his true salvation, the means to be more capable through his own hands. The hope to change the world, the one he couldn't find in gods.
He was Gundam.
So, the last thing he could do would be…
The sound of a door opening outside broke his line of thought. Setsuna recognized Kinue Crossroad’s voice, Saji’s older sister.
The girl stood, brushing the dust off her clothes.
“I’ll go now,” she said quietly, almost whispering. “Thanks for letting me stay here. I’m Hina, by the way.”
He stared at her silhouette in the dark for a bit before speaking again. “Setsuna F. Seiei.”
She nodded, her footsteps fading out into the hallway. The emptiness returned, settling over him like a familiar weight.
He sat once more on the edge of his bed, the dust motes vanished long ago, swallowed by the night.
Everything indeed melted away with the sunset.