Grave of The Fallen Kings Chapter 1: Prologue: The End of the Eve Wars, a gundam wing/sailor moon fanfic

Grave of The Fallen Kings

The cities tall buildings surrounded him. Their cold exterior of strong steel, and unbreakable glass. They almost seem to be bars on a jail cell, holding you within it pain and sorrow.

Duo shook his head violently; sometimes he wondered why he thought such things. They became more frequent ever since that day. He then turned his attention back to his newspaper he was reading. The front-page cover story was about some businessman. Real rich fellow he was, a seemly perfect life. A nice home, the love of a girl. He was found dead this morning, but by no means was his death an accident. Out of no where, he got up one morning and stood in front of an upcoming train. It made Duo wonder sometimes, what made people feel they had to kill themselves. He should go ask Heero; then again Heero killed for a reason.

'If there's such a thing as a fate worse then death, then why do people commit suicide' a thought jumped out from the reaches of his mind. He couldn't even remember who said that to him. It didn't matter anyway; nothing seemed to matter anymore. Maybe he should kill himself, like anyone would care.

Where was the Shinigami? That use to be his only purpose in life. But now he wasn't needed anymore. He was now a civilian, the people he tried to protect. He was back to being a teenager now. Duo glanced at his watch then cursed. He had to go home now, before Hilde worried about him.

Was he normal now? No, he never would, he would never be a child.

~~~~~~~~~

The dim glow of the lamp was only able to shine its light around the area of the large desk. The rest of the office remained in impenetrable darkness. The only sound that could be heard, was the scratching sound of a pen against paper.

Quatre placed the expensive pen down on the desk. He leaned his back, closing his eyes, trying to recollect himself. He had no idea what time it was, heck he didn't even know what day it was. After the war he had come back home. To reclaim his position, as the head of the Winner Corporation. Only to find his return was not as welcoming as he would have hoped. Most of his sisters either blamed him for the death of their father, or were trying to control his life. Plus all of his father's workers weren't to pleased with him. They all seem to hate the idea of having to take orders from him. Oh sure allow me to fight for you, but neve let me be your boss. Then again no one except a selected few knew that he was a gundam pilot.

Gundam pilot, yes he was a gundam pilot. Sometimes he wished for the days when he was a gundam pilot. At least then he felt like he was living. Yes at this moment he was alive, but wasn't living. Quatre reached out for his coffee, which lately (as well as his tea) he had become addicted to. It was what kept him going these late office nights. Drinking some, he almost spat it out. The coffee was now bitter and cold.

~~~~~~~~~

The steady hum of the fridge filled the trailer in the place of silence. Trowa sat on his bed, his shoulders slightly hunched. Starring through the dirty window. Looking at the colony's night sky, which was nothing but an empty black heaven. No moon, no stars.

Trowa's gaze remained unmoving, as the screams of a police cruiser and an ambulance raced by. The bright red and white lights, playing with the shadows of his face. Another disturbance of the peace, another life could be lost another man who walked to far over the line. Trowa shut his eyes for a second. Who was he? Was he Trowa Barton? Pilot of heavyarms , murderer of the innocent, killer of thousands, blood stained so deeply into his hands he would never forget. Or was he Triton Bloom circus performer, brother of Catherine Bloom. Then again there was always Nanashi, the nameless warrior.

Trowa opened his eyes; at least his eyes were the same in all of his forms. Thank god something was constant in his life. Gundam pilot, clown, brother, nameless soldier. Two of these identities weren't the same as the other two. Trowa turned his head in the direction of Catherine's bed. Empty right at this moment she was out with same guy. Mark, or Matt something that began with a 'M.' He knew that Catherine loved him, but he also knew that she wanted to marry and have children. And he was in the way of that dream, even though she would never admit it. He had two choices, one: leave Catherine and let he lead her life, but be forever lonely. Or two: stay with her and watch her waste her life away. Now Trowa fully understand the saying 'Stuck between a rock and a hard place'. It was a true enigma.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rain fell down form the heavens lightly. Making people pick up their pace, or duck for cover. Wufei walked down the crowded streets of down town Hong Kong. The smells of spicy food, wafted through the air. Even though it was raining. Shopkeepers began to close up their shops. Businessmen running, with their attache cases above their heads. To shield them from the rain, falling down on them. Children holding onto the hands of their mothers, squealing with laughter as the jumped into puddles. The cringing in fear as their mother scold them for making a mess of their clothes. They all had something Wufei didn't, a home.

Wufei let out a frustrated sigh; it was already seven o'clock, he thought it was four o'clock. He had just wasted three hours, now a day it seemed darkness fell earlier. He then reminded himself he had nowhere to go. Now walking down the less crowded streets, watching people rush home to their loved ones. Silently he prayed that they wouldn't be the fool he was. To tell their family and friends that they loved them. Because one day they're here next day they're gone.

Nataku. Merian. I'm so sorry; Wufei's eyes began to sting. Where was the justice of it all, why did his life have to be so unfair. His wife, family, home was all gone. All gone, and was never coming back. Leaving nothing but a bitter man with no honour, little pride, and a false sense of justice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dark and dirty streets of downtown L1 was unusually quiet tonight. The sound of metal striking up against metal was heard. As a small feeble flame erupted from the lighter. Heero placed the small flame, in front of his cigarette. Waiting for a few seconds before pulling back. Leaning up against the alleys cold wall. Closing his eyes briefly, as he felt the smoke fill his lungs, he then released it in a cloud of smoke.

His well-trained eyes scanned the area around him. The homeless cowering in the dark, freezing alleyway across from him. Old men with stories of failure, and children with stories of bad beginnings. The prostitutes shaking their stuff, up and down the side walks. Drug lords discussing trades, or just pathetic junkies. Humanity at its best. L1 was more of a political business area. Not many children around, oh no just greedy old men. With no kindness or love left in their hearts. The rich side and the poor side were one in the same. Both were drowning in their hopeless lives.

Adjusting his coat so it fit better. Heero proceeded towards the only park in the L1 area. In the park dead, brown leaves were falling around him. Technically it was only spring; Mother Nature just didn't seem to want to set her roots here. He stopped at a park bench and sat down. Flicking away his cigarette stubs away. Heero listened to the park sounds, which wasn't much. No birds, or any animals of any kind. No they belonged on earth. But he did in fact hear something, two teenagers not far from him. A desperate lover was pleading to his girlfriend "Baby take me back, I've changed," her only response was "People don't change." She was right people don't change. Then only cover up their old image, but their old self was still there. Heero waited for a moment lighting up another cigarette. He then got up and walked past the sobbing teenage boy. "People don't change;" No and neither did history.

~~~~~~~~~

It exploded out of nowhere sounding like firecracker. She felt it pierce her skin. And with incredible pain it pushed her back. Stumbling before she hit the ground in a sickening thud. She felt her blood pooling around her body. Frantic screams filled all around her. The sound of footsteps became louder, as they drew closer to her. Cameras flashing, Lady Une was demanding everyone to get back. Sally Po and Lady Une then stood over her. Shaking their heads in disbelief, eyes filled with worry. She read in one of her detective novels. That it was the crowd standing around you after you got injured that decided your fate. Your own personal jury. If they looked relived and whispered. 'She was lucky' or 'the was a close one,' you would live. But if their eyes were wide with horror, or turn their heads away to afraid to say anything, you would then die.

She was going to die. Her own blood was killing her, as it filled her lungs. Making her cough and sputter as it raised up her throat. Running down the corners of her mouth. Poetic irony, being killed by your own blood, the one thing that kept you alive. Then again it wasn't the blood that killed her it was the bullet. She raised her head slightly, looking at the top empty balcony in the auditorium. But it wasn't empty; a figure stood there for a second then departed. "Heero" Relena choked out; more blood erupted from her mouth. Darkness began to blotch her vision, her body shaking violently. The last thing she saw; were the shocked faces of Sally Po, and Lady Une.

Owari.....