Warnings: None. OOC?
Pairings: 1+2 impied
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A lone figure strode through
the graveyard, a sense of purpose in his very posture. It is slim shadow
of a boy, not particularly tall or muscular, yet strangely powerful looking
all the same. He walks against the wind, ignoring the droplets of water
that sprang to his eyes. Yes, he said to himself, they're from the wind,
It was several minutes before the boy found the grave he'd come to see,
one worn and crumbling. It obviously had not been visited in a long time,
if ever, The boy dropped onto his knees before the tombstone, as if praying,
as if he'd ever known how to pray. Yet all he was really doing was reading
the words over and over, imprinting them upon his mind. He didn't plan
on coming back here, but he wanted to remember, to remember as much as
"Hello," the boy whispered, hoping to call the spirit of this
person back to listen to him, " Bet you didn't think I'd be here.
That I'd still be living. Maybe you didn't care, but that doesn't really
matter. I just wanted to say a few things, to someone, something, anything.
And I couldn't say it to them. Or him. Not yet. I can remember talking
to you about other things. You talking to me, teaching me. I am grateful
to you for that. I would not have survived without that. The training.
The war. Battle after battle. Without your guidance in the beginning I
would not still be standing..."the boy trailed off, clearing his
throat, unused to so much talking.
"You might wonder why I'd be thankful to live through all that. At
first, I wasn't. I wanted to die, just die, in the worst way. I appreciate
what I have. I didn't realize how much life meant to me. How much they
meant. You taught me about people, about emotion, about fighting, anger
and hatred. But you didn't teach me about friends. What a friend is. So
I came to tell you that I know now. I know that a friend is someone you
can rely on, depend on. A friend is someone who you actually give a damn
about, someone you're willing to protect. The war taught me that. And
I am glad for it," he stopped again, shifting his weight, searching
the sky for any sign he wasn't completely crazy, that someone was listening
to him. The boy shrugged when nothing happened. He'd never really expected
"I'd forgotten that you taught me love, though. You taught what total
trust in a person is. The willingness to die for a person.The total devotion
and need to be around that person. That's love. And I found it. It's him.....I
can say his name, to you anyway, Duo Maxwell. The most amazing person......yeah.
They would've had a helluva time training Duo's emotions out of him. I
only wish you could see us both now. I know what'd you'd say. Follow your
emotions, neh? That's what I'm doing. Your guidance has led me throughout
my life and I thank you, once again," the boy darted one hand up
to wipe away the moisture from his dark blue eyes.
"I came here to thank you. To tell you your training was not a waste.
You taught me most everything I needed to know for that war. But not for
the time after. So I came here to do something else. I never did say goodbye
to you, you know. I have to now. Because...because the war is over. And
there si someone else who'll give me guidance. the weapons, the survival...They
don't mean anything anymore. So I must learn again. He can teach me. We
both learned war and death...and blood. Now we can learn peace and life...sunshine...being
normal. So, so I can do this. I had to say goodbye. Which means I really
do have to leave you. I've been you for the past years. I was finishing
what you started. Now it's time to be me.....just me and no one else.
Not the perfect soldier. Not relena's prince. Not the terroist I had to
be during the war. Just me, Heero," he laid down a bunch of flowers
at the grave and tossed something cold and metal on the ground: his gun,
"It is finished. Good-bye.....Father," Heero bowed once before
the grave, having siad what he neded to. It read:
The lone figure made his way
out of the graveyard down to the park where a small group was waitng.
One slender, pale boy with a long dark braid ran up to him, gently putting
one hand on Heero's shoulder. The others, a blonde, a tall young man with
somewhat strange hair and a solemn asian watched from a distance. The
braided boy was talking in low, soft tones, trying not to startle his
"Heero are you okay?"violet eyes were full of concern.
"Then, why are you crying?" the pilot formerly known as Shinigami
whiped away the tears with one gloved finger.
"I'm happy. They're tears of joy."
"Oh. Visit somebody you know?" Duo gestured at the graveyard.
"Just an old friend."
"Tell him anything?" The impish grin became something more genuine
as Duo pulled the japanese boy closer, sharing the warmth. the sky ahd
begun to darken and the air was heavy with the oncoming storm.
"Gonna tell me?"
"Someday,"Heero glanced up at the sky, Prussian blue eyes clear,
full of emotion for once.
"You can't tell me now?"
"I'll tell you one thing, Duo," Heero hesitantly returned the
braided boy's smile.
"I can't wait to start living."
[back to Lyssira's fic]