A/N- I do not own Gundam wing or the corresponding characters....
Alrighty guys, So I was cruising one of my forum sites and came across a challenge, and thought why not-- so here it goes...
WARNING—CHARACTER DEATH IS IMPLIED
"War is like any other bad relationship. Of course you want out, but at what price? And perhaps more importantly, once you get out , will you be any better off?" [/i]-Quellcrist Falconer Campaign Diaries (Richard Morgan**)
Smoke&Mirrors
"So you want to know about my life since the drums of war stopped pounding in the world? You want to know what kind of man was left in the ashes, and wake of such brutality of the likes that man kind can create? Why tell you about it when I can do one better-- Follow me, for I will show you."
Standing in the living room of his best friend Heero Yuy looks down at the open notebook wondering why it would be left open to such a passage, He knows nothing is wrong with the American other then he didn't want to go to the annual party-- but he was fine since he just left him to go in to the bathroom.
"He didn't even say anything... maybe he is getting sick..." he wondered out loud as he flipped the page finding it full of writing. Not wanting to ignore his friends privacy but very intrigued by the fact that he would leave out such a thing, Heero Yuy couldn't help but sit down and read it....
'The day started out like it normally did, the wailing of an alarm blaring beside me going unnoticed as I sat up panting and covered in a cold sweat from the images still flashing before my panic stricken mind-- my hand frantically searching out the only trustworthy thing I have known-- my gun.
It isn't until I look up at the ceiling past mu auburn brown bangs that I realize that it was only a nightmare ever haunting my tracks, never faltering even in sleep. Then I sigh, before opening my bedside table and pulling out my most recent best friend-- my guilty pleasure-- my Cigarettes.
Heero looked up at the top of the fridge and scowled at the ashtray that wasn't even bothered to be hidden this time around-- he knew the man smoked, but that didn't mean that he had to approve of the poor choice.
Looking once again at the book he continued to read...
Popping one in my mouth, I sit and ponder how the day will progress-- absently lighting the smoke taking a deep inhale of the calming and damning poison.
I don't know when, but I must have turned off my alarm for it is no longer screaming at me to wake up, or maybe it was never blaring in the first place. Slowly I slid my bare feet out from under my blankets and step on to the cool wooden floor of my one bedroom apartment.
I wander out in to the kitchen glancing out the window to check if the forecast rain was indeed here or if the weather man was once again wrong. Maybe I just check out the window because if allows me to see if the world really exists or not.
Something inside of Heero dropped at the last line he had read... it was like a small warning signal, and he glanced around the corner to make sure that he could still hear the shower running-- and Duo's off key singing.
At such a reassurance, he continued again, now more out of fear of what he would find.
Clicking on the coffee maker I walk in to the bathroom to ready my self for the day of work a head. I shower and I shave, and I dress in my work clothing compiled of little more then worn jeans and a black t-shirt. I re-faston my hair in to it's long trade marked braid before glancing in the mirror, then man I see before me isn't the man I allow every one else to see.
The glossed eyes an the pale almost sickly complexion, the man who looks like a living ghost of the wars past. Looking at the man in the mirror, I see a man who should be coming close to his grave-- not just nearing twenty five years old.
I open the medical cabinet and pull out another pack of cigarettes and lite one. Closing the cabinet I scowl at the mirror blowing smoke at my reflection, just hoping that man would die. Before I know it the bathroom is enveloped with smoke instead of the steam from my shower, so I drop the but in to the toilet and flush it away.
Smacking my cheeks I turn away from the mirror plastering the goofy would be nothing bothers me, not even a war look on my features, using years of practice to bring the gleam of happiness to my violet eyes.
Heero lowers the book, he had always known what he had seen in that man's eyes was an act-- but to read it coming from the American's own hand was something he never thought would come to past.
"Duo?" He called over his shoulder, "Yea buddy?" Came the echoed reply, sounding a little perturbed.
"Everything all right?" The Japanese asked, "Yeah..."
The word sounded strained, but Heero allowed it to pass over him. He would know if anything was wrong-- Duo wouldn't do something stupid with him here....'would he?' that question had him reading faster then before. His hands shaking slightly.
The work day, It's dull and bothersome, but since the need for killers is gone, I am left with little choice-- and the alternative isn't one I am willing to go back to. Just thinking of that time in my life before the war bring a slight quiver to my spine, and an urge to lite up yet another cigarette.
So Today is the anniversary of the war's end, so when I get home I must then get ready for the yearly party that my friend is hosting, just so that he doesn't worry about me through out the year-- not like he really does anyway, never calls, or even writes.
Dressed up in the same tuxedo that I wear every year re-pulling my hair back, I lite a smoke waiting for the time to leave, fire works are blasting behind my building, and with each pop of colorful explosions that make people happy, I wince at the images of death and destruction.
Glancing up at the clock I stub out my smoke in to the ashtray, finding it near over flowing with the disposed ends of all that I have smoked since returning home. I also find that my hands are shaking-- palms sweaty, and my mouth dry.
I cannot force myself to go to this party-- especially when there is nothing to celebrate, at least not for me.
Pulling the tie from my neck, I lite yet another smoke, this year I have decided I will not go, and just see who misses the forgotten soldier of the barely remembered war.
As the clock ticks away the Hours, minutes and seconds, I continue to smoke, and the fire works continue to explode.
If you can read this chicken scratching then I am shocked----
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--
--
--
So, it's midnight, happy anniversary and all that-- yet there is still no phone call to see if I am even Alive. The fire works are going a mile a minute, and so is my heart. I just feel like rolling in to a ball and dying-- these cigarettes where supposed to help me accomplish this feat-- but I don't think they are working-- at least not fast enough.
Heero swallowed the dry lump in the back of his throat, he couldn't believe what he had just read. He isn't thinking of killing him self again is he? He didn't want to make something out of nothing and so forced himself to skim over the last words on the page.
Yep, it's decided, now that I have smoked all my smokes, and am still feeling like a rabit jumping at ghost's that no one cares about, I know that I am not longer able to deal with this bullshit of an after war story. I am going to be found sitting in my bathroom after finally taking that one last look in the mirror, with a new kind of smoke lingering in the air. A kind of smoke that any other soldier of the war should know, and recognize.
I hope it brings you a seance of homage, because it will have finally brought me peace-- the very thing I fought for.
~Duo Maxwell~
He lifted his eye's of Persian blue and stood from the chair, too slow everything seemed as he moved towards the bathroom door at the far end of the apartment his legs felt like led, and his gut tightened in to a solid mass.
The Hallway didn't seem like it was getting any shorter and just as he reached it and lifted his fist to bang on it-The bright red blossom of a new fire work reflected through every window as cheers came from on the street, but it was not this explosion that had the man standing at the bathroom door screaming, it was an explosion of another kind...
Fire works are beautiful, but really they are a cover up for what they really are... little more then smoke and mirrors
~End~
Okay, I know this was such a downer! I AM SORRY I KILLED DUO! TT^TT
It was something that came to me in a challenge for Anime-league-dot-net, and I thought it would be cool to post and see what kind of feed back I got... I am not good at doing this kind of thing, so FEED BACK would be much appreciated. ^-^
READ AND REVIEW! ^-^
Also!~ NEWS FOR MY READERS OUT THERE I AM GOING TO BE STARTING A CROSS OVER FAN-FICTION CALLED DANCE OF WIND IT IS CO-AUTHORED BY MY GOOD FRIEND BLACKBELT KEEP AN EYE ON IT!~
ALSO GO CHECK OUT HER WORKS!~
SHE IS AMAZING!~
Until next time ^-^ ja na!