Disclaimer: PRDT doesn't belong to me, though I have a nifty t-shirt and a couple of action figures. Those belong to me. Characters, rights, stuff like that, however, do not.

Dedication: to those who doubted my ability to write Trent/Kira.

"Moran passes to Dunlap, Dunlap back to Moran, and Moran to McKnight for the score!" the announcer bleated. The stands came to life with a roar of approval, and Kira cheered along.

She'd been watching Conner speed across the field for awhile now. If nothing else, his training had made him a better soccer player; he was more agile, and his kicks were stronger than ever. The crowd loved him as much as they ever had, if not more. Kira, who had never previously understood the lure of organized sports or the fanaticism of its fans, had developed an appreciation of the sport's brutal grace.

On her left sat Ethan, hand immersed in a tub of popcorn. Sports and the watching of sports were not in his repertoire, but he was growing to enjoy the atmosphere. He was laughing and chattering away, and accidentally assaulting the couple in front of him with kernels every time Conner scored.

A shadow fell over Kira's lap, and she peered up into the sun to see who it belonged to. Her company's head was eclipsing the sun, leaving them faceless, but the loose white button-down was trademark to only one individual. "Hi, Trent."

Ethan looked up sharply. "Oops, out of popcorn," he said, though the tub was still at least a quarter full. "Be back in awhile." And he darted down the steps --much to the relief of those in front of him-- before Kira could stop him.

"Can I sit down?" asked Trent, his tone soft.

"Sure." Things had been tense between the two, even though he'd joined the team again. Things were tense between Trent and all of the Rangers except for Dr. O., and would probably stay that way for awhile. Trent perched on the empty bleacher space next to her. Kira's eyes were trained once more on the field.

"McKnight for the score!" the announcer chanted again, and Kira smiled, but did not cheer this time.

"You're in love with him, aren't you," said Trent.

Kira glanced at him quizzically, but his eyes were fixed on the brunet in red, just as hers had been moments before. He'd been following her gaze. "What do you mean?"

"You and Conner." He met her stare with a resigned look in his tired eyes.

"Me and Conner?" she echoed. She shook her head, feeling dazed. "No. I mean, I feel something for Conner, yeah, but it isn't…it isn't love. He's the only thing I've had that's close to a real friend in a long time."

When Kylee, a year Kira's senior, had opted out of continuing her education in a public high school in favor of getting tutors while in the studio and on tour, she had left incoming freshman Kira lost and alone. All Kira had had was her music and her best friend, and then one of them was snatched out of her life, so she'd turned to the other whole-heartedly. Much as Ethan had computers, and Conner had soccer. The three of them had interests to which commitments were so deep, it left no room for other things. Until they'd had to make gigantic sacrifices in the name of the greater good, and through that, they'd also found each other. Conner and Ethan were Kira's best friends now, understanding her in a way that Kylee never had.

Trent nodded, though she got the impression he didn't believe her. She wished she could make him understand, but she didn't know how to go about doing that. To some degree, she still didn't trust Trent fully. He seemed distant from them oftentimes, and that worried her. It was as though he didn't trust them, either. The only one who seemed to have full confidence in the White Ranger was Dr. O. Probably because he'd been there himself.

"I'm glad you joined the team, Trent," said Kira, choosing her words carefully. "We could use the help."

"I let the power take over me," answered Trent, frowning at his hands, folded in his lap. The sun glinted off the edge of the silver bracelet that peeked out from his shirtsleeve. "Mesogog told me that I was evil, that it was a part of me, and I listened to him. I just gave up, and I gave in. And I hurt you in the process. I'm really sorry, Kira, you can't imagine how sorry I am. I never meant to."

Kira wasn't concerned about him hurting her. She'd been worried that he was hurting himself. She rest her hand on his arm gently. "I know you didn't. It's not your fault."

"It is my fault. I let it happen."

"It's strong. You couldn't fight it for very long, and you did your best in the beginning. That's all anyone can really ask," said Kira softly.

"You may believe that now, but did you believe that then?" said Trent. "Did you believe it when I was trying to kill you? When you and your friends were trying to stop me, by any means necessary?"

Kira found herself looking away. Her eyes once again latched onto Conner, tracing his progress across the field. She had no idea what the score was anymore. She thought about all the times Conner had started into his rant about how they should just find a way to destroy the White Ranger. How she'd wholeheartedly agreed. How they had discovered that Trent and the White Ranger were one and the same, and how conflicted she'd been, as she had to choose between her friends. There was no talking to Conner and Ethan, and she'd found herself in a place where defending Trent got her alienated, and siding with the Rangers made her feel guilty for fighting Trent and not helping him.

"You know we had to, Trent. It's our job." She flashed him an encouraging smile. "And now it's yours."

"I'm glad to be one of the good guys," he admitted. "I just wish I could prove to you guys that I don't have anything up my sleeve."

"It'll take some time, is all." She wondered if he could pick up on the subtext of her statement. Her hand moved from his forearm down to his hand. He unlatched his twisted, braided fingers and they sought hers to re-braid.

"Time," he echoed in a faraway voice, staring into her eyes. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and felt the tidal wave as her old crush on him resurfaced. She questioned if it had ever really left.

Ethan returned, his bucket overflowing. He plunked down on Kira's left again, showering the people in front of him with the excess kernels spilling off the top. "Are we winning?" he asked cheerfully, then his eyes trailed down to where Kira and Trent's hands were clasped. "Oh. Guess we are," he said, punctuating his statement by swallowing another mouthful of popcorn.

Kira and Trent shared a secret smile and went back to watching the game. They were winning.