Ok, I don't own Gundam, which is what this is based on, obviously. (But I wish I did ;)) So…don't sue me, ok? All I have is a zip-disk full of Gundam pictures, and I don't think you would want that. Ok, enough with my ramblings, here's the (sad) story. (Kinda short too…)
Feedback will be read, and flames will be used to roast Relena…pleeeeaassee I'm begging you! (Mystic@Discovernet.net)
Shinigami
--------------------
Andie Maxwell
Fear. Fear and Death, that was all he knew.
He was death.
Hundreds of battles, thousands of faces, all replaying before his eyes, terrifying him, as it had so many times before.
He woke with a cry, which he quickly stifled. He didn't want to wake the others, let them know he was weak, know he didn't always have the cheerful mask he put before himself. Too late, he realized he was still sobbing just a little too loudly, and soon he heard the footsteps in the hall. He lay back down, not wanting whoever was coming to know that it was Death that had been crying.
Trowa walked in silently from the hall, the only note to his presence was the slow creaking of the door as it opened. He walked to the bed where the cry had come from, and saw the tears of Death streaming down the boy's face.
He kneeled next to the bed, carefully putting the quilt back on the cold boy.
"Duo." he whispered, his sorrow clear in his young voice.
"It's ok." Duo opened his eyes somewhat glad he had not woken Heero or Wu Fai, or even Quatre, who would have waken them all up, for one reason or another, even if he was trying to help. "I-I'm fine, go back to sleep, I'll b-be ok."
Death did not deserve pity.
"No." Duo was almost surprised to hear the silent boy's voice grow so forceful, yet still be so quiet. Duo was afraid, afraid of not being able to put his mask back on, to return and fight the war.
"Do not try to understand Death." Shinigami was Duo's last defense, his last excuse, to protect him from himself. He was Death, and anyone who dared get to close would inevitably die. Just as Quatre was life, Heero the perfect solder.
Duo looked up into Trowa's face, where he soon saw one of the saddest things he had ever seen.
He saw tears fall from the ever-silent boy's eyes, accompanied by no sound, no change in expression.
And he could no longer stand the killing, no longer stand being a fifteen-year-old, who had already killed more than a hundred people. He could no longer stand himself. And he began to cry, like he had when he was little, when he was alone, when no one could ever know.
Duo had always be the funny one for the group of pilots, the one who joked, even as he stifled yet another life. He had never shown anything besides humor, had never even let anyone know that he died every time he killed.
Trowa clasped his friend's hand, and as he did this, he noticed scars along the wrist. He took Duo's other hand, finding the same thing on that hand. "No-" was all he managed to choke out, showing a glimpse of emotion under his silent façade. Duo looked away from Trowa's face, ashamed that he had tried to run away, that Trowa had just discovered it.
"I-I couldn't -couldn't live as Death."
Without a sound, another figure appeared besides Trowa, causing a look of horror on Duo's face as he recognized who was standing there, and also startling Trowa. Trowa didn't show his surprise, and he knew not who had startled him. The silent figure kneeled next to Trowa, and a look of guilt to come across Duo's face. "I-I'm sorry- I woke you, really- I'm ok."
Heero's face came into Trowa's view, and he realized why Duo had had that reaction. But even the silent Trowa showed his surprise and sorrow, as he saw the single, silent tear falling down Heero's face, a tear from the perfect, emotionless soldier, as he spoke only two words, two words that held the emotion of a boy trained to kill ever since he remembered.
"I know."