GS: This was just something that popped out at me at three in the morning. It seemed like a good story when I started and I really like it. It explains what Wufei might have felt right after the ending of the war. And it also hints at his motives for Endless Waltz.
I probably won't be continuing this. Maybe, if I ever find time I will but at this moment I have way too much on my plate. So enjoy that essence that is Wufei.
Free.
That what I wanted right? That's why I fought for so long, that's why I killed, that's why I am who I am.
I wanted freedom.
It sounded good when they had told me about. Freedom, no fear, no poverty, no problems.
No fear, yea right.
I'm free now, I should be happy. I should be dancing in the street. I should be rejoicing with the other people in the street.
Instead, I sitting on the curb, staring up at imposing buildings around me. The sky still burned with rubble from the ship as it burned in the atmosphere.
People were all around me, in the streets, in their cars, shouting out of the windows and there was even one who jut accidentally kicked my back.
They were screaming, shouting and talking. The war was over. They were free.
Free. Yea right.
They could afford to be free. Despite all they fought and fought about rights and privileges, tonight they would return home to their families. They would curl up in their beds, kiss their husband or wife good night, roll over, shut off the lights and fall asleep, secure in the knowledge that the next day would be the same as the last.
Freedom meant a week or maybe a month of excitement where they had a new topic to talk about with their friends. Freedom meant finally finding out what happened to their son or daughter in the colonies. Freedom meant one more thing they could say they were.
Freedom was fear to me.
Where was I going to sleep? I had no home. I had no friends. I had no money. I didn't even have a plan.
Was this the freedom I had fought for? The freedom to fear? The freedom to be forgotten. I looked bitterly around me. They were free. I was poor.
Did one of them offer me a home in their houses, a plate of food, a tiny bit of comfort. With my Gundam I had a purpose, a goal. I was fighting for peace. I was important.
Now, I was a teen on the streets where people could kick me in the back. I wasn't Heero Yuy. I didn't have a girl who owned a kingdom. At least he could sleep there tonight. He could come up with a plan tomorrow. He was secure in the knowledge that he maybe alone but he would be treated with the respect he deserved.
I wasn't Duo Maxwell. I didn't have a ship in space where people would sweep me up. He had a job waiting for him. A home, though how obscure it would be for a teenager. He had friends, a family who wouldn't judge him.
I wasn't Trowa Barton. While his name may be as dead as his purpose, he also had a home where people would take him, love him and even name him. He all ready had a plan.
I wasn't Quatre Rabarea Winner. While disowned by his father, rejected by his family traditions and considered the most disgraced of us all, he still had family. Those men wouldn't follow him simple for a goal of freedom then abandon him. They loved him.
No, I was Chang Wufei, the dragon. I once was a Gundam Pilot. I once was one of the most respected members of my colony. I once had power, wealth and honour within my grasp.
What was I today? What was I right now?
I was a cold, lonely teenager with no way of supporting myself, no way to survive by myself legally. I had no one who would give me a bed tonight. I had no one to even spare me a blanket. I had no food for my stomach. My name was useless. My home was gone. I was alone with no one there.
I had no purpose. What was I supposed to do?