Memoirs of a Solitary Dragon
By
DuoLordOfDeath
Disclaimer:
Wow!! I wrote a fic solely about Wufei! And, NO! I do not own him or anything
about Gundam Wing except the merchandise!!
You probably think that I'm
being weak and foolish as I write this, Merian. You always scolded and
complained about my lack of will to fight; and about the fact that I would have
preferred to sit in the gardens and read. I guess that you were really the
strongest one of the two of us, although before I would never have said such a
thing about a woman. You died in my arms on the day that the Federation Army
attacked L5, and I promised to fight for the justice that you sought for; and I
fought for it in your name…Nataku.
Perhaps I still wear white in mourning of your death because I can still
feel your presence every time I fight or read; I really can't say. Whatever the reason, though, I can still
feel your spirit with me; even though we only knew each other for a short time.
I didn't even realize that I loved you until after your death; and even now I
regret my narrow-mindedness.
Now, as this war concludes,
I find myself searching for a path to follow. Where do warriors go once they
are no longer needed? We simply don't disappear, as many of the weak-minded
people in this world think, and now…it's as though I've lost my way. I hate the
feeling of being lost…so many times it has come to me with it's taunting,
hideous face, and not even my comrades during the war helped to calm this
demon. But I value their friendship much, much more than they could ever know.
Perhaps they think I'm cold and rigid; a woman-hating chauvinist who feels no
sympathy for the weak-hearted and frail of mind. And while this is only a mask,
sometimes I fear that this is all they see…none of them know of my pains and
desires; my true motives. I suppose that only you can know what I am feeling,
Merian. I felt that you above all people might understand me more than anyone
else.
As I write this to you, I am
sitting under a small tree that overlooks the Yangtze River…you always wanted
to come here, to China; but you never got the chance…so I come here for you;
that perhaps you are here with me in spirit and are able to see what I am
seeing now. Even though you were a fighter, I know that you might find this place
quite lovely indeed. It's quite different from the colony…only now after this
war can I truly appreciate my…no, our home country's beauty.
I close this letter to you with
a small afterthought. Many blame the death of their loved ones on war, some on
famine, some on crisis, and others on the deceased. Some may think that I would
blame the damned Federation Army on your death and OZ on the death of our clan.
But this is not true. I can only blame myself. I was not there to save either
of you, and now you have joined our ancestors among the stars.
I wish a farewell, and if you
ever see this, remember that I love you, Merian, regardless.
Wufei stood and folded the
letter gently, letting the thin rice paper crease smoothly between his
fingertips. He glanced out at the orange setting sun and took a deep breath,
breathing in the cool, river-scented air. He tightened his white Ming jacket
closer around his shoulders and began to step lithely down the hill towards the
majestic river. Overheard, small birds sang to the descent of the sun and the
advent of the moon, causing him to look above, his brow creased with thought
and consideration. When he reached the banks of the Yangtze, he stood there for
a few moments, watching small fish swim hastily though the waters.
Nataku had crossed this river
many millennia ago…legend says that this is where the great warrior first
defeated a wave of vicious invaders that were threatening to take over and
destroy all that China was. But Nataku halted their advance; it had been a
brilliant victory. Wufei remembered well the story, and he decided that; had
Merian really been the reincarnation of the legendary warrior, then this would
be the ideal place for her spirit to wander, watching over the forest with her
serious and sharp eyes. Quietly, he kneeled at the bank, then with a quick
flick of his wrist, he threw the letter to his spirited wife into the depths of
the waters, watching as the fine rice paper and elegant Chinese calligraphy
melted into the river.
He turned from the shores and
began to make his way back up the hill, not looking back towards the Yangtze.
But when he glanced up at the tree, he thought he say the reflection of a tall,
proud Chinese woman in a warrior's mettle. Her face smiled at him warmly, and
her hair went up into two short pigtails; as she held her helmet tightly under
her left arm. But when he looked again, she was gone; and a cool wind swept
over him as it headed downhill. He smiled a bit; he could still feel her
presense.
But he never looked back.
~*Owari*~
