Disclaimer: I don't own either Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, or Dante's Divine Comedy. (more disclaimers at bottom)

It's short and strange. ^^; And it's my first series … O.O!!

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They say sometimes in the rain, you can hear the angels laughing, and that a festival of fountains brought down the sweet, blessed water.

That is why, as the story goes, rain brings so many conflicting emotions to man – man who cannot deny the charm of it but at the same time can't help but realize that he can never return to Eden and that for the seventy-something years he lives, he is caught between heaven and hell, enjoying heathen pleasures but gazing up at a sky so blue, wishing for so much more.

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I remember studying Dante's Inferno in that high school where I first met Relena Darlian. Of course, somewhere between trying to stay alive and keeping Relena out of the web of my life, Dante got pushed to the background. Despite that hell was a subject I was fairly fond of – after all, I had always imagined I would end up going there.

I didn't realize how right I was.

Dante alleged that hell had nine circles plus a vestibule of opportunists – those who drew back when it came time to choose between Satan and God. Circle One housed the virtuous pagans and unbaptized children, Circle Two the carnal, Circle Three the gluttonous, Circle Four the misers, Circle 5 the wrathful, Circle Six the heretics, Circle Seven those who hurt others, objects, or themselves, Circle Eight flatterers, hypocrites, and thieves, and Circle Nine, the final circle that was hell itself, home of Satan and his kind – the treacherous.

Whether they meant to teach us great literature, for it was said that Dante and Shakespeare divided the world between them and that there was no third, or if they simply wished to instill a hatred of school and Dante in every student didn't matter. What was troubling was that only now did I realize how I might be better off if I had actually paid attention.

I tried to take deep breaths and remember past two years of mind-numbing killing to the Inferno.

I am the way into the city of woe.

I am the way to a forsaken people.

I am the way into eternal sorrow.

I couldn't help but wonder briefly if Relena would cry at my funeral.

Sacred justice moved my architect.

I was raised here by divine omnipotence

Primordial love and ultimate intellect.

Would she move on? Forget entirely the boy she met two or three years ago who she had pursued so desperately? The boy who lay dying as she wept and whispered her love until night fell and dawn came?

Only those elements that cannot wear

Were made before me, and beyond time I stand.

Abandon all hope ye who enter here.

Welcome to hell, Hiiro Yui, I thought, shaking my head tiredly, and stepped in.

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My first thought was that hell was a very organized place. For a brief, glorious moment, I believed that Dante truly was nothing more than an epic poet lost in the religious fervor of his time.

That is, until I saw the signs in front of each line – Circle One, Circle Two, and so on.

Behind polished counters were harassed-looking receptionists. It wasn't difficult to figure out the cause of the bags under their eyes – the room was rife with the sound of loud arguing and haggling courtesy of those who wished to be moved to another circle.

I had always imagined I'd go under "wrathful" and Circle Five … or perhaps in Circle Seven, with those who hurt others, objects, or themselves. I took my time thinking, though, frowning faintly at the people bustling around – what was there to hurry to? We were only going to be stuck here for an eternity.

I decided against trying my luck and headed for Circle Seven, just as the volume of the room dropped to utter silence and heads turned, searching.

I had never believed in angels, much less fallen ones – that was Relena's job – but if I ever did, the figure in front of me would certainly have qualified.

Brittle wings with lifeless feathers trailed her, sharply contrasted by golden streams of hair, resplendent and like strands of melted sunlight in the shadow-laced reception hall. Her white dress was tattered and adorned with sharp accents of delicate scarlet; she stood out, like the ghostly light of the moon, among her entourage veiled in black.

Too late did I realize that all those around me were kneeling. Our eyes locked.

She never stopped walking, but her head turned and those unblinking, haunting eyes, so dark a blue that they could have passed for black, followed me.

The moment froze—and passed.

The noise returned, at first a slight whisper but gradually escalating to its original cacophony.

I found that I could hardly move but stumbled to the closest receptionist.

"Who was that?"

She gave me a pained-and-disgusted-but-still-trying-to carry-on look.

"That," she paused to check her file, "Mr. Hiiro Yui of Circle Seven, was Satan."

Yes, Hiiro Yui, welcome to hell.

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Hello, hello! ::bows:: Kiwi-chan here. :D This fic was generally inspired by Angelight-san's Picture This [the chapter named Inferno] except this is very real [not figurative, like hers]. 3 It's strange to write in first person … it's almost as if I was unconsciously projecting myself onto Hiiro. O.O;; What a scary thought. ::shakes head violently:: I'd prefer to keep it first person … due to the paucity of first person POVs in this section … -_-; But I really don't know whether or not I can pull it off. -_-; Wish me luck and thanks for reading! :D ~Kiwi-chan