DISCLAIMER: Do you really need to be told? Surely you must for this and other disclaimers to be put of every chapter of every story. I'll tell you just in case you didn't see it over the web site. Fan Fiction. I own nothing. Neither of the two.
0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Heero Yuy stood in the center of an old cemetery. Old being the understatement. Many countries and colonies had mandatory cremation laws after death due to lack of burial grounds. Only the obscenely rich could afford to be buried in the earth for any decent length of time.
The cemetery he was in was almost three hundred years old. Many of the grave stones names had been worn away by the weather. Still the Americas had been stubborn that they at least preserve their cemeteries as best they could. The headstones had to have been replaced any number of times.
Today Americans gave honor to the dead by inscribing their name in a great extending wall underneath what used to be Washington DC. Beside each name sat a place to light a candle.
He'd been there before. But that was not what he had come to see. Or rather whom he had come to see. He looked at the sky. It was nearly twilight. At this day and age cemeteries were more a tourist attraction than any show to respect to the past.
Thankfully, this was an old military cemetery and less open to tourists.
Bending down on one knee beside the grave, he brushed aside the grime and moss that had grown over the headstone. Moving his fingers slowly across the English script.
Die for nothing or live for something.
J. Rambo
Vietnam War Veteran 1963 -1969
Born 1950 -
It was an old family name that had died out during the first rebellion days of the colonies. They were cousins to his family.
It's in the blood.
That was what Lowell had told him. Even so, Lowell had told him a lot of other things as well. He looked at the letters long and hard.
live for something.
"Hn." He grunted and gave a small smile in thought. He looked up at the sky. At the colonies where he knew his friends were. Probably the closest people he had to a family now.
He looked at the road. Silhouetted against the sunset sat his bike and the rest of the winding road.
It's in the blood.
"Perhaps." He thought out loud and after a last look at the headstone, he walked back to his bike. He smirked at another reflection of the past. This one much more recent.
Wufei had once told him that war was an endless waltz. Wufei was wrong. It was Life that was the waltz. Fighting had simply been his interpretation of the dance.
Pushing his helmet onto his head, he revved up his bike and set his sight on the winding road in front of him. A smile on his face that he had not felt in years.
"It's a long road."
FIN.
A glimpse into the history of Heero Yuy? Perhaps… perhaps not.