Author's note: It's been such a long, long, long time since I last wrote something! It's great to be back! Another angst one-shot from me. Please read on and hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Seed or Gundam Seed Destiny and the characters.
Echoes
They say that time heals all wounds, but they're all wrong. What do they know about wounds?
Nothing… nothing at all…
There were voices in his head. Little voices that whispered in his ear. Little voices that no one, except him, could hear.
He remembered that first time he had heard that voice. The sky was overcast, grey clouds rolling out into the distance. He recalled that there had been rain – rain had been falling from the heavens and he had tilted his face towards it and let it course down his cheeks like tears. The ivory tower – the newly constructed war memorial – had shimmered as rain slanted off its sides and the little grey tombstones clustered and surrounded it like broken soldiers.
Look at them.
A syrupy, sweet voice. A hint of condescendence. A touch of spite and bitterness. Like his father's voice when he realized that he had created the Ultimate Coordinator.
Do you remember their faces? Do you? Do you remember the fear in their eyes? Do you remember the plea at their lips?
Did you hear that?
Hear what?
Look around you. Look at those people. Look at the tears in their eyes. Look at the broken lives and the broken hearts. Don't you forget… Don't you forget that you did it, Kira…
Had he gone crazy?
He didn't think he was. But then again, only crazy people would hear such voices, right? Only crazy people were sent here, right? To this forsaken, desolate place of seclusion and entrapment. So perhaps… perhaps he was indeed crazy.
There was only one window in his room. Above his bed. He crawled up onto it and placed both hands on the metal bars to pull himself up on tiptoes.
He could see the backyard and beyond that, he saw a park. There were people and children. He saw their eyes twinkling, their faces radiant in the light, their lips parted in laughter. I wish I was out there.
Stop looking.
There it was. That voice again. With that same condescending and taunting tone. Yet, so sickeningly sweet and intoxicating, like the voice of an angel from his past. Why should I stop looking?
Because you don't belong out there. You don't belong out with anyone. Remember where you are. Remember what you did. Don't you forget… Don't you forget that you don't belong out there…
He was drifting in a dark void. Cold and alone. He could hear the voices, their whispers mingling to form a hum that reverberated all around him, a hum that was so loud it clamored against his eardrums for attention.
Someone's killed for killing another, and then that guy is killed for killing him… What are you fighting for now… It's okay to cry… the fools who pursued their insane dream in the name of progress… the hardest battle is to keep living… he killed Nicol… are weapons the cause of all this fighting? Or does the real cause lie within the human heart?
They drove him mad. He saw a plethora of faces – friends, family, and strangers – stained in blood and tears. A flower of yellow paper. A single-banded ring. An emerald bird. A photograph of a mother and twins. A silver mask. Images that flashed through his mind as the voices laughed, sneered, pleaded and mocked him.
Enough! Please… stop! He screamed into the empty darkness but the buzz of voices drowned out his anguished cry.
It's not enough, Kira. It's never enough. Stop? Never. Because you deserve it. Don't you forget… Don't you forget that you deserve it all…
Look into the mirror.
He did and saw unfamiliar amethyst eyes gaze back at him. Dark, cold eyes that bore into his. Who are you?
Don't you recognize me?
He shook his head but the person in the mirror just stared back. He felt suddenly afraid, as if these alien eyes could tear his soul apart and gaze right into him. He drew his fist back and punched it through the cold, unforgiving glass. The glass fractured and the stranger in the mirror was separated into two grotesque pieces. But the person in the mirror just laughed and raised his hands, palms stretched out towards him. He saw blood pooling in those hands, dripping through the crevices of his fingers.
I'm a destroyer. A murderer. A killer and I'm you, Kira. Don't you forget… Don't you forget that I'm you…
"What do these voices tell you?"
"They tell me I'm a murderer."
The pencil moved as the man scribbled something on the pad balanced on his knee. A skeptical cock of the head in his direction. "So, you still hear these voices, do you Kira?"
He nodded.
"Have the nurses and attendants been giving you your medicine?"
He nodded again.
"Kira, these voices aren't real and if you want to go home, you must understand this and forget these voices. No more talk about voices and you can go home. You want that, don't you?"
What does he know? He thinks he knows everything. But he doesn't. Does he know your hands are covered in blood, Kira? Does he know you're a killer? Does he know you don't belong anywhere? He knows nothing. Nothing at all. Don't you forget… Don't you forget that no one understands you…
He unsheathed the blade and turned it in his hand so that it caught the light. It flickered, and he remembered the shimmering ivory tower in the cemetery the day he had first heard the voices.
Look at yourself.
He saw himself reflected in the cold metal. His eyes were dark and cold, framed in that small, sharp razor.
You want to belong somewhere, don't you? You want to forget it all, don't you?
That sweet, sweet voice again. Dripping with sarcasm and honey at the same time. He saw his lips move. He heard that sweet, sickeningly voice slither from between his lips. How he hated that voice, that voice that taunted and mocked him, in and out of his dreams. How he longed to silence that voice.
He lifted the blade. Felt the hard, cold, relentless metal against his neck. Felt the warmth of blood spill onto his palm.
And his world became curiously silent. No more voices, no more whispers. He laid down on the crimson floor and let the precious silence wash over him, caressing and embracing him and all he heard was a lingering, fading echo… Don't forget…
Author's note: Well, how was it? It's really been such a long time since I last wrote fanfiction and one-shots. I hope I haven't lost my touch. I know, I know, very, very angst piece of work (in fact, I think it's by far the darkest piece I've written). Don't really know how or why but it just came to me like that. Please, please do review! All comments or criticisms are much, much appreciated!