Rachet is a semi-frozen WIP due to lack of interest.
While C&C is appreciated, please do not ask for or expect more chapters.
Some might be posted, but I just do not want the burden of expectation with this WIP. As I learnt with Parasite and Ping Pong Bell, I doubt people would consistantly follow updates anyway and it makes writing for readers unsatisfactory. I do appreciate those who do follow Parasite and give feedback- I know I have less than 10 on-and-off readers with that (hugs)- but with Rachet- and also Bitter Betrayal- I aim to write for myself and only finish if I get curious about the ending and the character interplay. (With Parasite- I already know the majority of the storyline... just have not put it to text. Sweatdrop. The next chapter of Parasite will be written about Heero and Duo... we are going back to the Academy.... oh and Trowa and Quatre may be in there, but we all know 3+4 generally gets dumped in favour of 1+2.)
Other Notes: Taking place in an alternative world of Gundam Wing- where only four Gundam pilots gathered together as a force to fight Oz- the lone other Gundam pilot had continued on his missions in solo.
Now the war had ended, the lone pilot, Heero Yuy, is charged with seeing none of the other Gundam pilots disrupt the fragile peace.
So Heero Yuy goes undercover at the Preventers to serve as an assigned rookie Preventer to other well-known group of four senior Preventer agents.
1x2, AU, Disclaimers Apply.
Perhaps what had startled him out of his brooding thoughts had been due to something as simple as human warmth. A brief flare of temperature in the cold night air as two bodies past, their mutual body heat signatures mingling just for a moment to create a warmth more intense than that which could be created by one lone person on his own. Whatever it was, that little something caused Heero fs senses to sharpen and be aware of the stranger passing, allowing his nose to pick up the barely scent of a soapy fragrance and hair that must have been washed bare minutes before. As his head for some reason, turned automatically to trace the passing blurred shadow. As his eyes placed the moving figure into a focused frame, Heero became aware he had slowed and stopped in his footsteps.
He was looking at the back of a graceful, longhair girl... no, teenage boy. Despite the stunning long hair that trailed out in the snapping cold breeze from the rapidly moving figure, no female could have such broad masculine shoulders which taped down to an angular waist. That shape was reserved for the male homo sapiens..
The figure continued on... blithely unaware of his body fs appraisal.
When the boy turned his head, his side profile was shown to Heero and Heero noted the boy to be very ordinary of face, and not at all pretty- which from the loose braid he wore had suggested he should have been. But he was not at all ugly. The flush of his haste was vivid on his cheeks, and his eyes, looking forward before him, sparkled with a life that was noticeable even from where Heero stood in his still bemused state.
The boy was moving ahead, turning the corner... his movement were rapid, but in perfect control as he neatly changed his path fully, his body turning with his head fs direction. And not once did he looked back at the path he had streamed through previously as he made his way towards wherever he had been going, and without the consent of his watcher, disappeared from sight.
Perhaps it was then that Heero realised what envy was. No doubt the boy had somewhere to go. Somewhere he belonged. A strange urge to follow the stranger welled up, startling him. It was a ridiculous feeling. For even if he followed the carefree boy, he would not find his own place. He had no place but a mission. His steps forward would only take him back. Always back again to the loneliness of a solo mission.
Heero had no idea of the wistfulness written on his face when he looked at the empty spot where the boy had been. Nor was he aware of a sudden hardening of his expression when he turned away and continued on with his path. All his expressional movement were miniature, and so Heero never noticed the shifting of his facial muscles at his emotions. Since the mirror, whenever he glanced at it, reflected nothing but a blank mask all the time, he was under the illusion that he had an unreadable expression- which he had strived for as a survival instinct long ago. But Heero never made a study of or looked too deeply into his own eyes. He never knew how his deep Prussian blue eyes always reflected the depth of his permanent loneliness.
TBC.
