Authors' notes: I don't own Gundam Wing just the plot of this story.

Warning: Suicide, death of charachter

In a World

In a world where no on seems to care, I live.
I'm a streetorphan, a rat, a beast. I steal, run and hide, but I never tell a lie.
That is considered very weird, because rats always tell lies. But I don't.

And this is why:

I once had a brother. He was very strong and smart and he cared for me, unlike anybody else. He cared for others too, but I was his favorite brother. We had a lot of other brothers and sisters. But no parents and that's why we lived on the street. I can already hear you coming, Oh boy a streetgang.
But we weren't like any other streetgang. We only stole what we needed and we didn't rob people or use violence. Okay, we DID use violence, but only when necessary. Living on the street wasn't that bad. Solo tried to make sure we had food everyday, though sometimes we were left hungry. And he protected us from other gangs.

Then the Disease struck. It was called the Pest, the Black Death. Everybody died. Including Solo. He was the last to go as I sat next to him, holding his hand.
I wanted to reassure him. Told him we would be together in my name forever.
Afterwards, I was alone. But not completely because now I had a name. I wasn't called Kid anymore, or Hey You. No I had a REAL name. Duo.
I was two. Solo and I were one. Me.

They found me. Not the cops or any bad guys. They were just a nun and a priest. And they took me in.
Father Maxwell and Sister Helen ran an orphanage. For a while I was happy. Truly enjoying childhood. Until Death made itself known again.
And this time it was all my fault. Before, I blamed the government who didn't want to give us streetrats a vaccine. But now, it was my fault. It was me who had stolen a mobilesuit for the refugees. Me who had led OZ tot he orphanage. Me who just stood there and watched as they were being burned to ashes.

All my fault. I just wasn't strong enough.

And that's how I got aboard a shuttle. I wanted to run away and never come back again.
Because I was Death. Yeah, the God of Death himself. It had been me who had killed all my friends and the only family I had ever had.
This time, I was found by only one person. Freaky hair in a mushroom cut and a big nose. He asked me who I was. I told him I was Death. He seemed satisfied with my answer and then he asked me this:

Do you want to be a gundampilot?

That question and the answer I gave would chance my life forever. I said yes.
I didn't know what a gundampilot was or what I would have to do, but in truth I had nowhere else to go.

The training was rigorious. Blood, sweat and tea... No wait. No tears. Real men don't cry. And I'm a real man. So blood and sweat were shed and I grew stronger and faster than ever.
He tried to teach me how to lie, but I couldn't. If I lied, I would break my promise to Sister Helen. A promise to always tell the truth.
I found a way around that after a while. Bending the truth wasn't lieing, or so I said to myself. However, sometimes it did feel that way.

I wonder if I broke my promise?

I was launched to earth in order to defend the colonies. It was there that I found a guy. You could say we met with a blast. Kind of litteraly. I shot him, twice. He tried to kill a gal. Said gal instead tried to protect him from mean ol' me. Kind of ironic if you ask me. Suprise was great when I found out he was a gundampilot also. Then, he was captured.
He was weird. And I was intrigued because who in their right mind would jump from a cliff without opening his parachute? Right, that guy. And to think I had just saved him.
He broke his leg, naturally. But to set that bone back in place with his own bare hands? That really grossed me out. I mean it.
During the time I spent with this Evil-Knievl-wannabe my bloodpressure was way too high. He was really unhealthy to be around.
And to think he would become my pratner in crime and law...

And now I'm here. In a graveyard to burry said partner in law.
I'm twenty-seven years old and already a widower. Funny, huh? The God of Death strikes again!

When the funeral is over I run to my room. My fault. All my fault.
Everybody I love and care for dies. That's how it goes because I'm the live embodyment of Death.
I think I'm going to have to date again. Preferably with my maker...

They found me. Death, of course that's who I am. I meant death like in wich sate I was. A gun in my left hand and a picture of my husband in the other.
Off course they burried me next to him.

Right now. I don't know where I am. I'm peaceful and I feel my lover's presence next to me.
That's all that matters because right now, in a world where everybody cares, I'm death.

Authors' notes: So what do you think? It's not hard figuring out who I was talking about right.

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