Note: My very first GWing story! Anyway, please tell me how I did. Please? Also, don't read this on a bad day.
After the War
He sat at his desk, filling out paper work. It had been three years since the end of the second war, and he found himself missing the challenge, the adrenaline, the single-mindedness. Maybe it was just a temporary side-effect of adjusting to no longer fighting after being a soldier for so long, but he didn't think so. If it was withdrawal, then it was withdrawal with no cure and no improvements. The young Preventer stood at five P.M., exactly, and walked to his commander's office. He entered and laid the papers on her desk wordlessly. He could see her face change from calm to shocked as she read the top sheet. His resignation. He left the room before she could say anything. Another objective complete. He never left anything unfinished.
Walking home, he though over the events that had brought him to this point. After the first war, there had been a sense that something wasn't complete, that the fighting wasn't quite over and the world would once again need the Gundams. He had been right. But this time, there was no feeling of that. This time, he knew, the peace would remain. He was not needed. After the second war, there had been plenty of attempts by female coworkers to convince him otherwise. Apparently, everyone though he would make a good father and husband. Everyone though he would make a good member of a peaceful society. Everyone but him. This thought occurred to him as he entered his small, utilitarian apartment. It was true, too. He had never been able to accept the lack of war. He had needed one more fight, one more battle. That battle had never come, and so he had created one inside himself. On both arms, there were scars from that battle. Tonight, he had resolved, would be end of that internal fight, and he already knew the outcome. The only solution possible. Part of him, oddly, was eager to leave. The darkness welcomed him, seemed to surround him the way his mother might have once. He longed to see his family. He had been so young, too young, when he was taken from them. And now he was so old. Too old, far too old for such a young body, the darkness insisted. He had already waited too long. His only wish was that his family would be there to greet him.
Heero Yuy was found later that night, his wrists slit.
After the War
He sat at his desk, filling out paper work. It had been three years since the end of the second war, and he found himself missing the challenge, the adrenaline, the single-mindedness. Maybe it was just a temporary side-effect of adjusting to no longer fighting after being a soldier for so long, but he didn't think so. If it was withdrawal, then it was withdrawal with no cure and no improvements. The young Preventer stood at five P.M., exactly, and walked to his commander's office. He entered and laid the papers on her desk wordlessly. He could see her face change from calm to shocked as she read the top sheet. His resignation. He left the room before she could say anything. Another objective complete. He never left anything unfinished.
Walking home, he though over the events that had brought him to this point. After the first war, there had been a sense that something wasn't complete, that the fighting wasn't quite over and the world would once again need the Gundams. He had been right. But this time, there was no feeling of that. This time, he knew, the peace would remain. He was not needed. After the second war, there had been plenty of attempts by female coworkers to convince him otherwise. Apparently, everyone though he would make a good father and husband. Everyone though he would make a good member of a peaceful society. Everyone but him. This thought occurred to him as he entered his small, utilitarian apartment. It was true, too. He had never been able to accept the lack of war. He had needed one more fight, one more battle. That battle had never come, and so he had created one inside himself. On both arms, there were scars from that battle. Tonight, he had resolved, would be end of that internal fight, and he already knew the outcome. The only solution possible. Part of him, oddly, was eager to leave. The darkness welcomed him, seemed to surround him the way his mother might have once. He longed to see his family. He had been so young, too young, when he was taken from them. And now he was so old. Too old, far too old for such a young body, the darkness insisted. He had already waited too long. His only wish was that his family would be there to greet him.
Heero Yuy was found later that night, his wrists slit.