My mother once told me that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I don't understand it, though. I believe that everyone is naturally beautiful, no matter how you look. I believed that all of my friends and acquaintances were beautiful. Though I most likely stand alone in my theories, I don't mind it a bit.

They stand before me, quiet in their own rights. They should be. Here I am, quietly talking in my head, paying no attention to what is going on. Duo and Hildie stand to my right, holding each other's hands; I think Hildie is crying, and Duo is on the verge of it. Heero holds a hysterical Relena on my left, Heero staring at the scene before us. Wufei stands opposite of me, his mouth open in shock, as is are his eyes. I don't think he can believe what happened. Catherine, though, I think, is the most shocked. Her hands shake violently at her sides, gripping and tearing her costume. I don't think the events have completely registered in my mind yet. I think he's just going to get back up and remain his quiet self.

But he isn't.

Trowa's dead.

It was an accident, from what I saw. Myself and the others were sitting in the front row of the circus, since it was in town and we decided to take a much needed rest from our current mission. Trowa invited us, like always. We didn't think anything was going to happen.

The rest of the show went well; we even clapped a few times. The main reason we went, though, was to see Trowa and Catherine's knife throwing act. We had heard so many times that it was the highlight of the show. Though Trowa never praised himself, we knew he was proud of it.

The series of events run through my mind like a bad repeating song. The first couple of throws were crowd pleasing, delighting them. The second set sent the crowd through a series of 'oohs' and 'awws,' including us unemotional pilots in the front row. I saw Heero smile a couple of times, hugging Relena close to him. Duo was thoroughly enjoying it, as was Hildie. Wufei sat back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, seeming bored with the whole spectacle, but I knew otherwise. I had seen the show before, but it was still thrilling for me.

In the third and last set, the first throw went well, hitting the board next to Trowa near his stomach. The second hit on the other side, parallel to the first. Everything seemed to be going alright. The third hit to the left of Trowa's head, missing by inches. I remembered the crowd gasping, then clapping.

The fourth throw went in slow motion. I saw it release from Catherine's small hand, flying through the air at an incredible speed. I stood up, ready to clap, as it was Catherine's last knife. Instead, all I heard was a sickening crunch, then saw a spurt of blood. Catherine screamed.

I jumped over the half-wall that separated the seats from the stage and ran towards Trowa's body. His hands had fallen to his sides and hung lifeless. His head had fallen onto the hilt of the knife, blood dripping into a puddle at his feet, each drop loud enough to cause someone to go mad.

My mind had ignored the crying around me, the sounds of the ambulance and the stretcher, the paramedics pulling the knife out of Trowa's lifeless body, the sickening thud his body made when it hit the floor. I would have jumped and hit the first paramedic I saw, but my body had gone numb by this time. I stood and watched this all happen, my body not moving a bit. I don't even remember if I cried.

A few days later was the funeral. I don't know how I got through it. There was the coffin, closed -no one wanted to see Trowa's mutilated face- all gleaming and polished. I had watched the Undertaker polish it himself. It was hard seeing it there, and not Trowa himself. A part of all of us had died when Trowa did. We were a team. We defeated OZ together, we defeated White Fang together, we defeated Marimaia together. And a part of our team was missing. That hole was never going to be filled again. No longer will we be the five Gundam pilots.

Relena delivered the eulogy, being the most eloquent of us all. Catherine wanted me to do it, since Trowa was my best friend, but I couldn't. I couldn't get up there in front of everyone and tell them how much Trowa meant to me- how best of a friend he was, or how I cared about him like I would if he was my brother, or how I hoped he and Catherine would get married some day and have little baby Trowa's and Catherine's... I could never tell them that. Those feelings were sacred to me now.

As soon as Relena finished the eulogy, everyone paid their respects, heading off in different directions. I stood in front of Trowa's casket as it was lowered into the ground, the tears finally coming to my eyes. I dropped one lone flower into the grave, it landing on top of the other flowers that were dropped in. It symbolized my feelings to Trowa. No matter how much he loved Catherine, I would always love him more: as a brother, as a friend...as something more.

I turned and walked away from the gravesite, wiping the tears away from my eyes, my last words to my best friend floating on the wind.

"Farewell."