Warm Memory
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters.
I don't usually write in first person, but felt compelled to do so. This takes place after Heero and Quatre return to the Earth and Trowa is Lost in Space... It's pretty short, but I hope you like it. ^^
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It was when he came with Heero that I first met him. Quatre Raberba Winner, he introduced himself, friendly voice accompanied by an outstretched hand just begging to be greeted. He was hard to resist. So perfectly polite and charming, cheerful and optimistic almost to a fault.
In short, he seemed like a polar opposite to Heero at the time.
They had their similarities, of course. Both were Gundam pilots and trained soldiers. With Heero you could always tell, but Quatre seemed to be everything a soldier was not. It was hard for me to believe that such a kind person could ever take another's life.
Over the course of a few days, I came to know Quatre better and found myself speaking to the blond Arabian instead of Heero. It really wasn't so bad; Heero was never one for meaningless conversation and Quatre always seemed willing to make up for what Heero lacked in social skills. I clearly remember one day on the veranda, when Quatre cajoled me into an afternoon tea.
"Your kingdom is so beautiful," he told me as we gazed out over the countryside. "I wish I could stay here."
At his kind words, I smiled and said, "You are welcome to stay here for as long as you like, Quatre."
"I couldn't... There's still so much for me to do." He gazed skyward. I knew he as thinking about outer space.
"You could always return here when you're done," I suggested in my most diplomatic voice. In response, he turned to me and smiled.
"I'd like that," he said. We both sipped our tea lightly. After a few moments, his brow furrowed into a question. "Do you mean just me?"
A bit confused as to what he meant, I offered a hopeful "Hmm?"
He took a moment to re-organize his thoughts, then said, "Could I bring someone with me back to the Cinq Kingdom?"
By "someone," I guessed he was referring to the other Gundam pilots. "Of course, Quatre."
Later that evening, I overhead Quatre speaking to Heero. It was purely accidental; I had been heading to my own room and happened to pass by the rooms where Quatre and Heero were staying. At the sound of Quatre's voice, I froze, and when Heero's reply came, I couldn't help but lean closer to the door to hear what they were saying. As far as I knew, Heero could be discussing leaving, and I wanted to know what he was planning for the future.
"Stop worrying," Heero was saying.
"But it's my fault!" protested Quatre. "It's all my fault."
"Trowa made his own decision. He was a soldier, too."
"Don't say it like that." Quatre's voice was filled with a combination of sadness and anger. "Trowa's still alive."
"You can keep telling yourself that, but I'm going to accept what happened."
There was a long, strained pause. I leaned closer to the door.
"I'm going to find Trowa!" Quatre insisted, sounding as if he were fighting back sobs. There was a noise, and I instinctively stepped back as the door swung open and a teary Quatre came hurtling through. He barely realized I was there until we were both on the floor. The awkwardness of the situation only caused Quatre to cry harder.
"Relena..."
Heero was looking down at the two of us, staring at me with a slight tinge of disbelief in his voice. In that instant, I didn't care about Heero; I just wanted to comfort Quatre.
"Quatre?" I said softly. For a moment, the sobs stopped as Quatre seemed to collect himself, but then they were back again, albeit softer than before.
Heero seemed less than pleased about the situation and pulled us both to our feet. He looked at Quatre and said, "You should go wash your face." Such a command from anybody else would have been despicable at that moment, but the way Heero said it sounded like a concerned friend.
"Here, come with me," I instructed, taking Quatre's hand. Heero gave me a slight nod and returned to the room. It seemed he approved of my helping Quatre. I led Quatre down the hall a short ways and into one of the many richly adorned bathrooms. A sink and mirror were on one side of the maroon-colored room. I took Quatre over there and turned on the water so he could wash away his tears.
"You must think me foolish," he said after he had splashed some water on his face. I handed him a towel.
"Not at all, Quatre."
With a doubtful sigh, he buried his face into the towel. "I'm just a stupid fool. Heero's right. Trowa's probably dead, and I killed him."
I let that comment rest in the air, uncertain as to what I could possibly say in return. Quatre put the towel down on the counter next to the sink.
"It's just that I can't give up. I can't stop thinking that Trowa's out there somewhere."
"It's not a bad thing to have hope," I replied. "Hope is one of the most beautiful parts of the human spirit."
For a moment, he smiled weakly at my attempts to cheer him up, but the smile faded too soon. "I'm so sorry to trouble you so, Miss Relena. I'm afraid I'm just not as strong as Heero and Trowa."
That, I realized, was a big part of Quatre's problems. "Nonsense!" I replied quickly, "You're strong in more ways that you think. You have a very kind heart."
"A kind heart," echoed Quatre. "Trowa said the same thing."
"It's not just that. You use your mobile suit to protect the people that you love."
Dismally, he said, "A true soldier doesn't need love."
"Love is the most important thing," I protested. "Without love, battles are meaningless. It is those meaningless battles that we must try to stop, because then the ones fought for love will no longer be necessary. Don't you think so?"
He looked away for an instant and smiled, happiness finally showing on his face. "If we can end meaningless battles, I would no longer have to fight... I'd like that. Thank you, Miss Relena."
"You're welcome, Quatre," I said.
"I should probably get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Quatre." The door closed behind him, leaving me alone in the bathroom. I looked down at the discarded towel and picked it up.
"Trowa must be very lucky," I said aloud as I gazed at the towel in my hand. "I hope he's still alive."
For Quatre's sake, I added silently.