by ChibiQuatre (7/27/00)
Yet another GW disclaimer: well, do you all REALLY want me to write a disclaimer?! We all know that I don't own GW (though God KNOWS I wish I did!). The GW boyz r'nt mine, never were, never will b. They are owned by their respective creators; Sunrise, There...happy!!! ((oh, and any trouble translating the japanese, I'll b happy to help!))
*A/N: this is partly an alternate universe -- remember when Quatre went crazy from the Zero system? well, this is how it could've happened if he was on Earth when his father was killed, k? pleez don't kill me -- i try my best! ^^ it's from Quatre's POV and it's a little angsty. i think i kinda strayed from my original idea, heh! oh ya...and i think i was subconsciously hinting at yaoi, but it's not directly indicated. interpret however u want. tell me whatcha think!
"Quatre-sama!"
"Ne, Master Quatre!"
I turned my head towards the familiar voices. They belonged to Rashid and the
rest of my loyal Maguanac forces. "What is it?"
"Quatre-sama, we've finished construction, just as you've ordered."
I nodded and congratulated them on a fine job. They had managed to build Wing
Zero in record time.
Less than a month ago, I had lost Sandrock. It was deplorable; Sandrock had
helped me through thick and thin. But times change, and people need to change
with the times. I resolved to go back to outer space. But how?
Then the answer came to me. It would be fairly simple to build another Gundam.
I had the blueprints and design plans for a new model; the Maguanacs had
plenty of experience in the field of mobile suit production. The Winner family
owned a large resource satellite. It was nearly effortless to order Gundanium
alloy and mobile suit parts...so why not?
Wing Zero was surprisingly similar to Sandrock. Differences were trivial. One
was obviously the design. First off, Wing Zero would be more accustomed to
flight and space than Sandrock ever was. Secondly, instead of two curved
blades, I was to use a buster rifle and a beam saber. But those would be easy
things to accommodate.
I was worried about Zero's internal drive system. I had a little trouble figuring it
out myself. The programming was new to me and my army. Apparently, it
functioned partly on the pilot himself and partly on battle data that was
transmitted directly to the system. The blueprints had warned against fighting
with the Zero system, but as far as war goes, I saw no danger.
I was about to raise myself into the cockpit when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Rashid stared into my eyes with a fond kindness he showed only towards me.
He didn't have to say anything. "Oh, don't worry Rashid. I'll be fine."
He no longer questioned my ability to answer unasked questions, instead
nodding his confirmation as I waved goodbye to my devoted crew and prepared
to take off.
"Take care, Master."
* * *
One hour, twenty-one minutes.
That's how long it took until the news reached me.
I was just out of Earth's atmosphere at the time. I would've been out sooner, but I
was testing Zero's capabilities. It wasn't hard to find an abandoned site in the
desert for test piloting. The rifle worked especially well: good design on the
Scientists' part. However, though the Zero system was fully functional, nothing
happened. I was curious and tried every maneuver possible to try to activate the
system, but nothing seemed to work. Maybe the Maguanacs installed it wrong.
Finally, I gave up and decided that I didn't need the Zero system after all.
I had just arrived in space when the news bulletin interrupted my peace.
Something didn't feel right. I knew better than to second-guess my feelings; they
often analyzed situations quicker and better than I could with logic. "Mr. Winner
of the Winner Corporation --" I stopped dead in my tracks and listened carefully
as I heard my father's name on the broadcast "-- assasinated by unknown forces
--"
It couldn't be. It just couldn't. My father...murdered on our family satellite??
It couldn't be.
But there it was, all over the news. My feelings had once again managed to
foreshadow an event. I stared at the film footage as it replayed the scene of my
father's demise; dozens of beam cannons fired upon one lone silhouette that
stood, framed in the window of the satellite. Suddenly, the figure melted away as
destructive light obstructed the entire screen. It faded to a dim glare, eventually
disappearing altogether. Nothing remained. Not the satellite, not the bright light,
not a trace of life...just empty space before the cameras cut back to the news
reporter.
I stared at the screen, mouth agape, eyes watching, disbelieving everything that
the entire world was believing. Everything was frozen in time. I was no longer the
pilot of a Gundam, a killer, but a little boy of seven. My father was still alive,
playing with me as I ran through the garden. Our garden, the one we had grown
together.
But even as my mind wanted to accept the memories of the past, my heart was
pushing it away. Because the past was no more; the memories were gone now.
Just like my father.
No more tending to the garden. No more star-gazing under the moon. No more
admiring the beauty of space. All that was gone: destroyed by beam cannons.
No. My heart wanted desperately to believe that this was all a nightmare, that I
would wake soon and discover that I was still that seven-year-old child who had
a loving father and a bright, wonderful future. But I don't think anything was as
bright as those beam cannons.
I choked back a sob, wrathfully glaring at the dark screen. My heart wanted to
believe what my mind was reliving. But it would never happen. In my angry,
crazed state, I knew that what was done was done.
My father would never live again.
The madness was growing inside, despite my feeble attempts to keep my
emotions in check. Soon, a light submerged the cockpit. It wasn't hardly as bright
as the cannons were, but bright enough to blind me.
And when the light faded, I was filled with an hostility and hatred I had never felt
before. It was as if I had been weak before but emerged from the light, filled with
a satisfying strength that lived off the furious rage which had found a place in my
heart. I needed revenge. I would avenge my father's death. Yes, that was what I
needed to do. It was decided. I would attack the enemy, make my father proud.
A shred of reason tried to force itself into my mind. That wouldn't make my father
proud. If anything, he would be ashamed of what I've become.
No, I rejected the tiny voice. My father would be proud. My fellow pilots would be
proud. I would make everyone proud of my task, my new mission.
I was to destroy space.
* * *
It wasn't hard to defeat the enemy suits.
Pathetic. They were all pathetic. Space was too weak for its own good. If I wasn't
to destroy it, I would probably sympathize with it.
But I was different now. I wasn't weak anymore. I used to be pathetic too, but no
more. Wing Zero had shown me my fate, and I had accepted this new mission,
eager to destroy those who had murdered my father.
Space. That was my enemy. All of space: the colonies, OZ and its supporter
Romefeller, the rebel forces.
The Gundams.
Yes, I would destroy anything and everything that got in my way.
The first to go were the mobile dolls. Miserably small obstacles to eliminate.
They were mindless, no good for battles. This only made me more furious. Were
people so unwilling to fight in their own battles?
Onslaught after onslaught of enemy suits, and I had destroyed them all. Strange,
I wasn't tired at all, or apologetically sad. In fact, I felt stronger than I ever had
before.
The light flashed on and off inside the cockpit. I truly was a different person.
* * *
"Go easy on him, Heero."
The unrecognizable voice floated towards me from deep within my mind, settling
in a secluded little corner. That voice...I remember that voice.
Was it Trowa? So he had come to save me once again.
I almost laughed. Save me? I didn't need saving, not this time. Revenge was so
surprisingly satisfying; I had never felt such a powerful force. And I loved it.
No, a little voice said. I enjoyed it. I don't love it. What I love is dead. From the
isolated recess in my mind, I wanted to scream, to yell at myself. Stop this!
You're here to protect space, not destroy it!! But that notion was easily
surpressed. I was in full control. There was no stopping me now.
The light from the Zero system applauded my behavior, flashing on and off in a
distinct rhythm. A low, threatening growl tore itself from my throat as I threw my
head back and laughed haughtily. I heard Heero huff, "Hn?" He sounded
puzzled.
"Quatre?" Trowa asked. This wasn't right. We shouldn't be talking. They were my
enemies; they had allied themselves with OZ and were piloting new mobile suits,
the Mercurius and the Vayeate that OZ had created for the very purpose of
destruction.
This was the same OZ that had murdered my father.
"We're wasting precious time with talk," I muttered bitterly.
This time I heard Trowa gasp with confusion. "This isn't the Quatre I know."
Heero interrupted him. "Quatre's right. Stop talking and let's get on with it."
Suddenly, Mercurius launched at me from the side. I dodged it easily. "Is that all
you've got, Heero?" He seemed to hear my almost toneless taunt and launched
at me again.
"That's your flaw Heero. You dive straight into battle without considering your
future." I don't know if I was actually talking or only thinking; the monologue
continued. "Zero has taught me a lot about my future. This is my last mission.
Don't get in my way, Heero." I wasn't even listening to myself speak. I couldn't
hear or feel anything, only see the light that had veiled my eyes like a thick
curtain.
I could no longer control my body. It was moving on its own, maneuvering Wing
Zero with careless, deadly freedom. I was still alive, but only part of me. My
heart had died, and the Zero system had invaded the empty cavity in my chest.
It's control had spread with sickening speed until it had consumed almost all of
my logical mind. I existed only in a small area, thinking for myself even when
Zero was thinking for my body.
In the little niche, I could still think, could still reason out everything. Now I
understood Zero. It affected its pilot only in battle and consumed with a
murderous rage. The system pushed the pilot to all extremes until he wasn't
afraid of anything; not even Death itself. It was meant to promote efficiency in
battle; but now it was turning friend against friend. How dreadfully cruel. I wasn't
to fight Heero or Trowa.
But though I truly believed this in my mind, my body contradicted my every
thought. Zero won't let anything happen to me. This madness will continue until
space is destroyed.
It was either space...or me.
I tried to focus all my attention back at the outside world, the realm that existed
outside the cockpit. For a minute, I had forgotten all about that world. I had been
so self-absorbed in vehemence that I didn't notice that I was indirectly killing
reality. Zero only worked as a virtual tool of war; the real weapon was the pilot
within the Gundam. It was through the pilot that triumph was obtained. The
system created a heartless murderer, capable of a coldness that even mobile
dolls couldn't achieve. It was bad enough that I was already a murderer; to be
heartless was too much. But try as I did, I couldn't gain control of my body.
Because the only thing that mattered to the Zero system was victory.
And the only thing that mattered to the real me was life.
* * *
'No!' I watched through dead eyes as Trowa dove in front of the powerful beam.
Vayeate fully absorbed the damage that was originally intended for Heero.
"No," I managed to whisper. Vayeate was breaking apart in the powerful beam. I
watched many pieces of blue armor dissolve in the blast. I was hit by a wave of
horror; it reminded me of the Winner satellite and my father. I watched the
screen as Trowa's pained face appeared.
So much pain --
I almost broke down in tears when he started speaking. There was no doubt in
my mind that it was his voice which had drawn me from the dark abyss of
insanity.
He had succeeded in rescuing me yet again.
"Trowa," I gasped in distraught horror. This couldn't happen. No! He saved me
and I destroyed him. He deserved praise, and I betrayed him. How could I live
with myself?
I decided I couldn't. There was no gratitude in betrayal. And even as the
Gundam was melting away with the blast, preparing to self-destruct, Trowa's
quiet, reserved voice rang out through my cockpit in a speech that only I was
meant to hear.
The strong yellow light that had once danced across Zero's screen had died with
the harsh blow of reality. It no longer guided me as I felt the bitterness of losing
another person. Trowa, who had comforted me with his conservative friendship
and offered me strength in times of weakness, was gone forever. Just like my
father, Trowa was gone. And this time it was all my fault.
I watched in agonizing grief as the Vayeate maneuvered up, away from my direct
line of fire. All the while, Trowa was inside the Gundam. I wanted to curse him
for not getting out, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. He was getting his wish --
he promised that he would always save me, and he had kept his promise well;
but he was never afraid to die, and now he would.
Even near the end, his voice was painfully calm. He spoke as though he had
planned this sort of thing to happen someday; it hurt to think that we Gundam
pilots, all of us, had a death wish. It was true. Even I, who value life above
everything else, wanted to die. But only at one time did I ever consider
self-destruction:
After Vayeate exploded, with Trowa still giving his well-planned speech.
That was the only time I ever really wanted to self-detonate. I could never forgive
myself for such a shameful, unaffectionate thing. Trowa...gone?? I hung my
head, the tears running freely down my face.
I had lost the battle; Zero was victorious.
* * *
I didn't remember much after Vayeate exploded. Things were a blur.
For the first time that day, I was crying...for father and for Trowa. The most
important person in my life was gone and I had everything to do with it. I was this
close to pushing the button that would end my own life.
But for every gray cloud, there is a silver lining, ne?
It took me a while to figure out that Trowa wasn't dead. Lost at space, maybe.
But not dead. How do I know? When my father died, I knew immediately. Call it
what you want: a premonition, a foreboding sense in your stomach, a warning in
your mind that you just can't shake off.
I call it a Space Heart.
Living in both Space and Earth has brought me to understand the workings of
the heart. Everyone has a Space Heart, an Uuchu no Kokoro. Whether or not it
is expressed is totally up to the individual. Some people are just naturally more
empathic; but empathy has little to do with the Space Heart. My sister Irrea, for
example, is one of the kindest, gentlest people I know. She has nothing but love
and concern for others, which is why she also makes an excellent doctor.
The Space Heart is different for every person. From experience, it helps
someone understand something; that something is different in separate
individuals. Mine has taught me the traits of a good leader and has led me to
believe that life is to be valued more than gold, or silver, or any of the most
precious gems, that life is more precious than death.
Above all, my Space Heart has taught me to be a good friend.
And my Space Heart was the reason I knew Trowa was alive. Trowa was a very
important, if not primary, person in my life. At their death, someone that special
would have definitely triggered a reaction much stronger than tears.
So you can imagine my anger when Heero attacked me instead of letting me go.
Why would he? I had killed hundreds of OZ soldiers whom he had worked with.
Colonel Une was giving the orders for now; I couldn't screw things up for him.
But Trowa was alive. "Heero, go save Trowa!" I yelled. But it was like talking to a
brick wall. I couldn't get Heero to understand. Hell, part of myself didn't want to
believe that Trowa was alive either. But he was. Why couldn't Heero see that?
Didn't he feel the presence that I felt?
"Has Trowa's death taught you nothing?" he asked in an annoyed tone. His
words flew at me like knives. They stung much more than ordinary words should
have, piercing my heart to very core. But Trowa's not dead...
The Zero system had partly taken control again, mostly because of my anger at
Heero's naiveté. The other half of my brain was still functioning but was too
clouded with hurt and sorrow to have made a difference. The dispute drew us
inside the docking bay. Even after we slammed into the far wall, the fight
continued.
Somehow, through my confusion, I realized that I was to end this meaningless
battle with Heero if I wanted to spare his life and mine. Zero was quickly making
headway, taking control of my body; now that Trowa was lost, no one in the
universe would be able to make me stop the insane destruction that would stain
my hands for life.
That was it. I vowed to find Trowa, to repay him the kindness the he showed me
and no one else. It was my duty to find Trowa and thank him. For everything.
This time, I'll save you, Trowa.
While I was wrestling with the Zero system, Heero took advantage of the
opportunity and attacked. It hurt, but I was glad he did it. What other option did
he have? He was dedicated to his missions, whether the orders came from
Doctor J or from Colonel Une. Either way, he wasn't about to give up a battle,
even for a friend.
I knew I was fighting Heero; Zero had more than three-quarters of my body. This
isn't right! I fought it with all my strength; it got me nowhere. Not even Heero
could withstand Zero's pounding force. It seemed like he was holding back as
well; maybe he didn't want to hurt a friend.
The more I thought about Heero's words, the more sense they made. He thought
Trowa was dead; I didn't care what he thought. What mattered was that Trowa
had taught me a lot. Through him, I learned more than I ever could have on my
own. It was to him that I owed my heart.
I snapped out of the craze easily when I realized that I was hurting Heero. He
wasn't causing me pain...it was the other way around! But in contrast to Trowa's
defeat, Heero wouldn't be defeated. I wouldn't let him lose. I couldn't hurt
another person so badly again, not after what happened to Trowa.
Never again...
Planet-defenders surrounded us in a dome-shaped force field as he drew out his
beam saber and charged. My shield defended me, but only for a mere second. I
don't think I was even trying to protect myself anymore. Far from trying to win, I
was deliberately aiming at my own annihilation. Numerous explosions blasted
our Gundams apart and after seconds of exhausted anxiety, Heero fell out of
Mercurius' cockpit, landing hard on the ground.
I stumbled out of Wing Zero's cockpit, too tired to walk straight and too
grief-stricken to care. As I reached Heero's side, I thought my eyes were playing
tricks on me. Maybe they were. To this day, I don't know if I actually did see a
bright light, much brighter and purer than the light from the Zero system,
engulfing Heero's chest. Call me crazy; it had looked as if his heart had been
floating, detatched from his chest. Maybe I was crazy; Zero has a profound effect
on me.
I went over to his body, resting limp on the ground, his 'golden heart' suspended
in an aura of yellow. He looked just like a little boy; so innocent and carefree. I
remember vaguely thinking that this was what we Gundam pilots all must have
looked like at one time or another. Maybe sometime long ago, years ago, when
we were children, we looked pure whether we were asleep or awake. I hated to
think that the only time we could look so young now was when we were
submerged in unconsciousness.
The world was ugly.
But then again, soldiers aren't supposed to look young, even fifteen-year-old
soldiers. We grew up a little quickly, but we can accept the responsibilities; if we
couldn't, then the Scientists wouldn't have loaded them on our backs. That
means that Heero, Duo, Wufei, Trowa and I are older than we're supposed to
be. Doesn't it? So how can Heero just lie there, looking so harmless?
I guess we Gundam pilots understand the world as it truly works. That day, I
came to the conclusion that I wasn't the only Gundam pilot with an Uuchu no
Kokoro. I wasn't the only soldier with an Uuchu no Kokoro. The others must
possess one as well. How else could one explain the golden heart?
I placed a shaky hand over Heero's chest. He was alive...no thanks to me. I
shook my head, blowing the bangs out of my eyes. Stealing a glance back at the
Gundams, they seemed surreal. The empty metal frames were still locked in
combat, frozen in time as an art masterpiece in a museum. But this wouldn't last.
They were bound to self-detonate any second; this time, I would save a life.
I absently brought my hand up to my chest, suddenly noticing that the yellow
glow had disappeared from above Heero and reappeared around my hand,
which was clenched tightly into a white fist above my own heart. It was warm,
almost to the point of healing. Such a wonderful light, not cold like the glow of
the Zero system, but warm like the rays of the sun --
No, I wasn't the only soldier with a Space Heart.
~OWARI~
how was it minna-san? luved it, hated it, wanted to kill me 4 some reason?? lol tell me!
questions, and suggestions r always welcome, k? (if u really wanna flame, pleez e-mail me ^^* ) what i mean is...rate n review! i await ur, uh, comments. jaaa!!
ChibiQuatre @ tigerlily6c@aol.com