Childhood Memories
By Aryn
Triniti stepped into the old barn and looked around at what the sunlight revealed to her. This had been home when she was little girl, no more than ten. She had loved the barn. It gave her solitude to draw, think and daydream. This had been the place where she had constructed two very important things in her life. The first was a fantastic fantasy life where her mother was still alive, her father loved her the way she wanted and she was truly happy. The second was the Heavyarms. The gigantic mobile suit had been finished in space, but the basic idea had started here. A midst the piles of stray and old creaky beams of this barn. A cheerless smile played across her lips. It appeared that the same dust that had hung in the air all those years ago, was still caught in the sunbeams of the afternoon.
The professor overseeing the construction of the Heavyarms periodically looked over at the ten-year-old girl as she sat on one of the crates, sketching something out of his sight. He shook his head in amazement. The poor girl had no idea what her father was planning. Frequently she would come out to the barn, peek under the tarps, wrinkle her nose in curiosity, and sit down to draw or write. Even though it had never been said, she had been the one who had drew the sketch of the Heavyarms. From overhearing Trowa Barton boast, Professor O had gathered the girl’s father had given her the plans of the Gundam known as Wing Zero and asked her to draw a similar one, only with more firepower.
He glanced down at the sketch in his hands. She had done a wonderful job. The Professor wondered if her father, Dekim Barton had told her what a good job she had done. He also wondered if the child had been told what the machine was to be used for. He shook his head again. She probably had been given a pat on the head and sent to play with her dolls after completing the suit of mass destruction. He had seen her often enough to realize what a gentle soul she had.
She finished the drawing with a few eraser sweeps and held the page out in front of her. Her clear blue eyes scrutinized the paper, causing her smooth forehead to wrinkle in concentration. A few more eraser marks and a touch of shading, he could tell she found the piece of artwork satisfactory. She jumped off the crate with child like grace and started to head for the door, pausing slightly to smile and nod at the Professor.
"Triniti, there you are."
The Professor turned to see the broad shouldered form of Trowa Barton standing in the doorway. He unconsciously swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. He didn’t exactly fear the eldest Barton child, but the brash young man did make him feel slightly on edge.
"Where you looking for me?"
"I’ve been looking all over for you!"
The girl’s eyes grew apologetic and she raised a small hand to her mouth. "I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would miss me for such a short time."
The Professor was amazed to see Trowa’s face soften slightly. "Don’t you remember I promised to take you shopping this afternoon. Father says you’re to attend a party tomorrow night and you need a new dress."
The girl’s nose wrinkled again. "I have plenty of dresses. We don’t need to go."
Trowa leaned down and scooped the girl up into the crook of his arm. "It’ll do you good to get out. You spend too much time in that barn."
The Professor watched the door shut but could still hear Trowa’s voice raving over the picture Triniti had drawn. He wondered how such a gentle soul could be born into such a war loving family. He wondered what would happen to her.
Triniti felt a pair of arms slid around her waist, gently drawing her out of the past. She leaned against her husband, appropriately named after her brother, and closed her eyes. She felt the slight vibration of his vocal cords on her forehead as he spoke.
"So this is where it all began. This was where the Heavyarms was started."
"Yeah. Then the basic parts were shipped into space where it was assembled and the Gundanium shell of built on it. Such humble beginnings for such a famous and powerful machine."
Triniti felt Trowa kiss her on the forehead. She still had that drawing that she had worked on that day in the barn. It had been of a sleeping mechanic, curled up on a bale of hay. She had decided to sketch him since he wasn’t going to move and most likely, he wouldn’t know she had sketched him. She looked up into Trowa’s dark green eyes.
The sleeping mechanic had turned into a handsome man that she now called her husband.
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