Gundam Wing is property of Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asahi. Sainan no Kekka and all original characters and plot copyright 2000 by Quicksilver and Gerald Tarrant. Please ask permission before reposting.


SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
Family: Jaffa


All happy families resemble one another; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
--Anna Karénina, Part I. Chap. I.


It's hard for me to remember the time I consciously made the decision to watch out for my family; it has always been my duty, it seems, though it shouldn't have been. I wasn't the oldest sister, or the smartest, or the most organized, or even the most empathetic, but somehow or other, I became the family matriarch, for lack of another maternal figure.

I didn't mind. Two of my older sisters were extremely busy with their own lives, and one didn't care for any except her own self. My life became one of keeping the family in touch, mending quarrels where I could, helping the children grow into adulthood... I was the mother, since our father was constantly having children through artificial methods. It wasn't my place to condemn him, though a part of me wanted to. He commissioned child upon child, seeking a precious son, and some of the daughters were lost in the shuffle. I'm probably the only one who knows everyone's name, and remembers the birthdays of all my siblings. Though we are rich in coin, we are poor in love sometimes.

There are thirty of us- thirty rare, talented individuals. In any other family, each would be worthy of recognition, but in ours, not all of us were worth mention. We have athletes, society dames, mothers, businesswomen, scientists, doctors, artists... all of them play a part in our family, yet my father could barely remember them. It was painful, not having a sure source of love. How can you rely on a family where some members don't even know your face? Especially your father, who ensured you were born without a mother?

Some of my siblings have never met each other; others have quarrels that not even my tact can repair. Religion, money, politics- all are causes of dissent among us. We're a micro-society, and many are the thesis's that have been done on us, studying the various reactions each of us has had to being placed in our rather unique family situation.

We all coped in different ways. Sumiya accepted the neglect and learned to become Naadira's shadow. Maysarah became nothing more then a freeloader, determined to indulge in the good life at any cost. Others, like Talat, Sirin, Qamar, Eness and Omaira chose to become the best in their respective fields, basking in the adoration of the world. Some married and raised families of their own.

I could tell you each of their stories; and they do have stories. Poor Hana, afflicted with hemophilia she gained through genetic testing error... Daliya, Azia, and Sapphire, the triplets no one seems to be able to tell apart, insecure in their individuality, unsure if they are unique, or just one part of three... Juju, who is on the fast track to winning the Nobel Prize in physics.... Ghaida and Cemal, the sisters who used to be close but no longer speak due to religious differences... All of us have stories. The press doesn't care about that, though. They have lumped us in as a collective, forgetting that we are individuals, with our own thoughts and fears and dreams. Some wit, when I was younger, named us the "Winner Women" and that label stuck. I could have killed them for that. Why couldn't they let us be our own selves, rather then a part of some frightening collective?

Some sisters I have lost. Three sisters... not many when you consider how many sisters I still have, but each of my sisters is precious to me. Not even my considerable efforts at maintaining what fragile bonds we did have worked. The first I lost because I was naïve, the second because I was blind, and the final because I was powerless.

The first sibling that disappeared was Zarifa.

That was over fifteen years ago. She was close to me in age, with only two sisters between us, and I had grown up with her. She looked like an image of my father, but mentally... she was different then the usual laid-back temperament the Winners inherited typically.

She was a spitfire.

Zarifa had argued with my father over politics as long as I could remember- she believed in taking a proactive stance, rather then a pacifistic one. She believed that sometimes war and fighting was needed to create a new world, needed to inspire progress. Without it, we would stagnate.

She infuriated father. Until Quatre came along later, she was the only one who could truly make him lose his temper. She challenged his long-standing views at every turn, pointing out his errors… and then she left. Zarifa went to join the Federation Army.

Unless you are a Winner, you can't understand… how unthinkable that is to us.

My father disowned her in response. No longer could she claim ties to us, no longer would any of us be allowed to speak to her, no longer would she be known as one of "the" Winners.

I didn't blame him. She had betrayed everything we stood for. The Winners were the aristocracy of the colonies, and the Federation represented those who tried to repress us. I was angry with her, too, though I would never let anyone know.

I was Jaffa, the calm one, after all. My family relied on my impartial nature, the way I never chose sides, even though I wanted to. I believed I was doing the right thing for my family, doing everything I could to help them along in their lives. Even if it meant disowning one of the sisters I had been closer to. I thought of the family as a whole, not just the sum of its parts.

The next to go was Lilah. Lilah…

Lilah was one of the sisters who seemed to have chosen to fade into the background, rather then fight for an identity. She was adrift, but I didn't really consider that. I was too busy dealing with my more flamboyant relatives to worry about a young girl who was still in our father's house. I was vaguely aware that she was there, but I didn't notice when she started to pull away.

I was aware of her choosing an inappropriate lover, of course. Father noticed her then- for one of the first times in her life, she had his attention. Her lover was a gold-digger, and he wanted the connections Lilah could bring, not Lilah herself. She was only fourteen, after all. He was twenty-three. Damn pedophile. Somehow he convinced her to run off with him.

Father was furious. He cursed her name, cursed her lover, and cursed everything about her existence. He hated the idea of a Winner daughter consorting with one he deemed unworthy. Lilah's choice had insulted him. He didn't disown her, but her name was never spoken. He shunned her; it was like she had never existed. He didn't care what had happened to her, or so it seemed to me; he cared about how it reflected on him.

None of us were sure what to think of the situation- should we side with Father? Was Lilah entitled to her own choice? We kept our peace. What else could we do? Again, I had to think of the family as a whole, not one wayward sister. I hadn't been as close to her as I had been to Zarifa, so this time separation came easier. I reconciled myself to the situation.

And then Iria died, along with Father.

It was almost incomprehensible to me.

Lilah had run away, Zarifa had fought and abandoned us due to moral differences, but there was always the chance that they would, somehow or another, come back when the time was right. Iria could not; she was gone forever. The Winners were not immortal. Ever our vast wealth couldn't protect us from death.

I loved Iria dearly. She was one of my sweeter sisters, confident, caring and beautiful. She wasn't as involved in maintaining family ties as I would have liked, but she could be counted on when I needed her. She was a brilliant surgeon, one who used the wealth of the family to finance a clinic for those less fortunate. I know I shouldn't have favorite siblings, but she was one of mine. Iria was impossible not to love.

My feelings were more mixed in regards to Father's death. I did not mourn for the man who was my father. He loved us, in a distant way, loved us like pets or a treasured piece of jewelry. He knew very few of us personally: Reeshya, his little princess; Quatre, his heir; and Naadira, his right hand. The rest of us were mere names, and vague memories. Only Reeshya mourned for the man. Quatre, too, mourned for what could have been, once he got passed the original insanity, but not for Raberba Winner. To Naadira, he was more of a boss then a father. Still, his death brought the end of an era.

When my father and Iria died, literally within minutes of each other, we gathered for the funerals. Ghaida did not come due to her differences with Cemal. Three others didn't attend, due to prior obligations. It said something about our family. Quatre did not attend, either, working on his project…. The Zero- God forgive us for not stopping him. He hadn't known Iria that well -or for that long- but his empathetic nature simply couldn't accept the truth.

Iria had died to save Quatre. He had become a Gundam pilot to prevent his family and loved ones from having to fight and die, save them from suffering, and he had inadvertently caused the death of his sister. A very bitter pill to swallow, especially after so many other disappointments and betrayals.

Sometimes, in the back of my mind, I wonder if Iria made the right decision in saving him. I have never voiced this doubt, though, for Quatre does not deserve it. It's not about whether he deserved to live, but rather the consequences of his survival. The Zero….

I love my gentle brother. He's special to all of us. At his birth, we knew that the family was at last complete. Our father would give up his incessant search for an heir- the price had simply been too high. Father had loved Quatrana, and her death burned his compassion away. He adored Quatre, but I think he resented him, too. Father had finally found a wife, only to lose her in childbirth- something that is almost unheard of in this age of modern medicine.

I remember Quatrana clearly, and I liked her. She was soft of voice, and patient as anyone could wish, and for a while I wasn't the sole Matriarch. My youngest four siblings are genetically hers- Wajiha, Lilah, Reeshya and Quatre- but only those Quatre and Lilah looked like her. She was a delicate thing, barely five feet tall, with huge aqua-blue eyes and fair hair that fell past her waist. She was very English, but father overlooked that. Quatrana was smart enough to know that any child born a Winner would be raised Arabian. The Winners of L4 were proud of their heritage, and were going to keep it.

The first three children were all born in the usual manner- tubing. Many colonists had given it up as being an archaic method of reproduction, but father saw it as being more practical. Quatrana disagreed, and it took her quite a while for her to convince him that she wanted to have a child naturally. She wanted to have the complete experience, know what it really meant to be a mother. Father had argued about the dangers, but she had quietly turned aside all of his objections. I knew she'd win the argument. Father still hadn't sired an heir, and he could deny Quatrana nothing.

Her triumph killed her in the end. Three days after Quatre's birth, she died.

I mourned for her. She may not have been my mother, but she was a member of my family. When she died, I gave up all hopes for us ever being a whole, complete family. Had she lived, perhaps the story would have been different. She was less then ten years older then Naadira, the oldest of us, but Quatrana could have been the mother, the true matriarch, rather than a flimsy substitute.

I wasn't the one who raised Quatre. Raberba Winner forbade any to speak of Quatrana, and we did as he wished. Even her children didn't know of her, something I sorely regret. Had Quatre known, perhaps he never would have become a pilot. Perhaps he would have grown into the heir father had so desperately wanted to be. Perhaps.

We came so close to losing Quatre.

It always amazes me when I consider that Quatre is the son of my father. He's such an empathetic young man, concerned and loving. He's so different then a distant man who sired him. He cares, genuinely, for people. He'd give everything of himself so those he loves don't have to suffer.

He fought for us.

I should have been angry with him for that, but I wasn't. He wasn't fighting for the sake of fighting, like Zarifa. He was fighting to protect us, to prevent us from having to discard the beliefs we held so dear. Father never understood that. While I could not condone Quatre's actions, I understood them.

Still, Quatre's announcement of his role during the war worries me. People will start assuming he's a hypocrite, something he most assuredly is not. He never subscribed to father's beliefs. This time will be hard on him, and I hope, somehow, that he will be able to draw support and faith from us. Support that we never gave Lilah when she needed it, or the faith we didn't have in Zarifa. We are family, after all. Perhaps it's time we started to act like it.

What is family? Is it something created by blood? Ties of friendship? Living together under the same roof? Shared beliefs? I wish someone would tell me so I can truly sculpt the Winners into a family. It's something I've always wanted…

…And I wonder if I've ever had one. Now, though, the Winners must become one unit, of one mind, to protect what's most dear to us. I will do everything in my power to ensure that the Winner era is just dawning, rather then falling apart. Quatre is going to be going through the battle of his life, and this time, I'm going to make sure he's not alone.

After all, what is family for?

Back to Act 5, Part 2.7 | Back to Sainan no Kekka