AN: Just a short one-shot I had in one of my notebooks for a long time.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Seed. Rusty's personality, however, is mine since he was in for less than a minute. XD
What Were They Fighting For?
A hand trembled slightly as it was pressed to the thick window of the ship. Silver eyes reflected the twinkling of the stars.
Rusty McKenzie smiled slightly, content to look at the pin-pricks of light as they shined brightly in an impressive show of the universe's many, best-kept mysteries.
"It's beautiful," the redhead breathed.
Chuckling, Yzak Jule floated toward him until they were side-by-side, both staring at the stars. "First time in space, huh?"
Rusty blushed slightly. "Kind of obvious, aren't I?"
"A little," Yzak teased. He ruffled the red hair gently, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.
Rusty continued to stare at the stars before frowning slightly. He pulled his hand away, turning to face Yzak fully. "Why?"
Yzak blinked, silent.
"Why are we making such beauty a battleground?" Rusty clarified.
Yzak bit his lip, staring out at the sky. Sighing, he ran thin fingers through his chin-length silver hair as he contemplated his answer carefully.
"I suppose it's because beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Or…well." Yzak frowned. "In history, humans destroyed beautiful things. History will always repeat itself." It wasn't a satisfactory answer, but it was better than saying 'who knows' and leaving it at that.
"Stuck on repeat, huh?" Rusty breathed, looking back at the stars. "A shame. They really are beautiful."
Attacking Heliopolis, Rusty felt sick. He was staining the place red. Why do they have to fight? To protect. What were they protecting? For the life of him, he couldn't answer. War destroys. Who could fighting possibly protect anything? It didn't make sense.
He took aim and fired.
A gun dropped from dead fingers. A life lost into the abyss called death.
Nothing protected except for his own skin.
Is that what they were protecting? Themselves? Selfish. Mad. That can't be true…could it?
Some claimed they were protecting the civilians.
A bomb went off. Screams filled the smoky air.
No, they lost too many lives in war.
Some claimed they were protecting land.
A cave in. Need another route.
People said they were protecting peace.
Ducking, he avoided a bullet. Returned fire. Another lost soul. Dead.
What peace?
What did they protect? Not beauty, not lives, not land, not peace. What good was fighting accomplishing? All around him was greed, violence, blood, power-lust…nothing good was coming from this.
Any person who claimed war did something good was deluding the truth. How could anything good come from such a selfish, blood-thirsty slaughter?
He once more took aim as his target turned. A woman with calm brown eyes and a gun clutched in hands as stained as his own. She fired.
Pain.
Choking, Rusty couldn't breathe. His legs gave out even as he fell. He shuddered, gasping. He couldn't move. Dying. He must be dying. For what? Why did he have to die? He accomplished nothing but cold-blooded murder for his country.
What were they fighting for?
*End*