Chapter Two
Time passed quickly and wartime was soon nothing but a distant memory to those who had endured it. Heero was 18. He never learned when his real birth date was so he marked his years by the first of January. This would be his 18th year of life, and he felt no wiser, stronger or intelligent than when he was at 15.
After the war and outbreaks of violence had settled down the Gundam pilots had all agreed to destroy their Gundams for the sake of peace and join the Preventers. Heero, having resolved not to join any sort of agency, military or non, decided to live the next few years of his life in the country.
He returned to Japan, the center of his ethnic heritage, and bought with his government pension a small house and a little square of property on Hokkaido, far away from the bustle of the major cities. His new home was hidden away from reporters, researchers and historians. Here he began to enjoy the small village life.
It was June. The weather for the past week had been warm, with the occasional refreshingly cool breeze. All of the children in the village were out and about, enjoying the freedom of living in a safe, quiet environment. With a deep sigh he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back into a park bench, and looked out over the pond where a group of young children were playing at the water's edge, splashing each other and skipping stones across the flat, glimmering surface.
"Hiirou!" One of the young boys yelled from down the bank. "Come! Look at this!"
Heero smiled walked down the bank to where the children were standing in a semi-circle looking down at something that was lying on the ground. As he approached he realized that it was a baby duckling. It flailed nervously and tripped over its own clumsy webbed feet, getting tangled in the long, stringy grass.
"Poor ducky!" exclaimed one of the little girls.
"Catch it!" said another little girl holding a bent stick in her hand.
"No! It will bite you!" said the young boy who had summoned him over.
Heero approached slowly and knelt beside the duckling, which chirped and squeaked in fright. He heard a soft honking call from the pond and saw that the mother duck was spinning in nervous circles in the water, calling out for her baby.
"Quiet…" Heero said softly, and the children fell silent in unison. He reached down slowly and strand by strand began to untangle the frightened yellow baby duck. Then he nudged the duckling with the back of his hand and urged it toward the water. It stumbled forward warily and then waddled triumphantly to the water with a splash. The children cheered as the little duck swam eagerly over to its mother.
"You saved him! You saved him!" one of the little girls chanted, dangling from Heero's arm.
"It was just a duck." Heero said flatly, and then ruffled the hair of the little boy who stared up at him in admiration. The boy's gaze began to make him feel uneasy.
"Kirin! Kirin, time to come home."
Heero looked over his shoulder to see Yuki standing at the top of the hill beside the bench where he had just been sitting. The little boy nodded, waved goodbye to Heero, then turned and scampered up the hill towards his mother.
"Oh, Heero. How very nice to see you." Yuki said in her charming, soft voice. She took Kirin's hand and approached Heero, a smile brightening her face. The sun reflected off of her pale skin, making her seem to glow in the late afternoon light. She was wearing a pale pink top with a conservative khaki skirt, and her long black hair was pinned up neatly in a bun. She never wore jewelry or makeup and the simplicity of her appearance made her seem innocent and pure. She was a few years older than Heero. She was also widow, her husband having been killed in the war, and so she was often alone with her young son. Ever since meeting her the first week he had moved in he felt very protective of her. He found himself taking the long way home from town to pass by her little house. He would bring the mail to her, and he kept a sharp eye on Kirin when he was out playing with the other children.
"Mommy! Mommy! Heero saved a baby duck today!" Kirin said happily, tugging on his mother's hand.
"Oh did he?" Yuki replied slowly. "Our hero!"
Heero felt his cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment and he looked down at his feet, pushing a pebble around with the toe of his shoe. Yuki's light, airy laugh floated through the air and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Heero, I have been looking for you. Could you help me with some yard work tomorrow?" Yuki asked softly. Kirin's eyes lit up with delight. Heero gave a slow nod before raising his eyes to meet hers.
"Yes. Of course."
"I will make you dinner as payment." She said, placing a hand on Kirin's shoulder as if to calm him.
"There is no need-"
"I insist." She said cheerfully, and then gave him a small bow. "I'll see you at noon. Oh and thank you."
Heero nodded and watched after her as she walked away, little Kirin glancing back every few steps to grin at him.
Once they were out of sight Heero let loose the breath he had been holding through that entire conversation. He rolled his shoulders and began walking up the small, wooded path to his little traditional Japanese-style house. He slid the screen aside and traded his shoes for his house slippers and began wandering aimlessly around the house.
"I'm a mess." He said to himself, brushing his wild chocolate bangs from his eyes. Yuki always made him have an uneasy feeling. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, just an uncomfortable sensation that he wasn't used to experiencing. He never had a girlfriend. He never even had time before to start a relationship with anyone. However, Yuki's presence made him think about those things. Made him ponder what it would be like to have a woman living with him, what it would be like to share emotions with someone of the opposite sex and to make love to them.
His pulse quickened at the thought. He shook his head and paced up and down a dim hallway, trying to will the thoughts away. It was difficult. He had needs, true, but he felt guilty for ever thinking that he could use Yuki to fulfill them. She was innocent, sweet, and beautiful. She deserved more. She deserved to have a husband. Her old husband. She deserved to live a peaceful, happy life.
Many times Heero wondered what it would be like to be with Yuki, but he always shrugged these thoughts away. She was too innocent, and he was jaded, cold, and had a sordid past.
I will help her. I will just keep my distance, he decided.
He made a pot of green tea and ran a steamy bath, slipped into the tub and closed his eyes. Yes, life was good.
Until the knock at the door.
Heero cursed under his breath and splashed up out of the tub, quickly wrapped his robe around himself and padded across the wood floor to retrieve his handgun from a small cabinet on the wall. He tucked the gun within the robe and went to the front door, sliding the screen open slowly. A figure stood in the darkness on the front step. He deftly flicked the light switch on the wall and a lantern-style light flickered on. The yellow light poured over the figure…
"Wufei?" Heero said, stunned, his eyes widening in surprise. The Chinese boy stood before him dressed in a Preventer uniform. His dark eyes were tired and his shoulders slumped from exhaustion. "… come in."
The Shenlong pilot walked in slowly. He had come empty-handed. Heero gestured to his small tea table in the center of the room and Wufei wasted no time taking a seat there.
"Heero, something serious has happened." Wufei said plainly. His dark eyes locked onto Heero's. Something that Wufei always did was to stare into your soul while he spoke. Heero took a seat across from the Chinese pilot and nodded, urging him to continue.
"Duo got himself into some serious trouble. We need your help."
"What kind of trouble?" Heero's stomach began to unsettle. He hadn't spoken to the Deathscythe pilot for at least a year, and this news bothered him greatly. After the war they had become close friends, but Duo couldn't settle in one place and the last news Heero heard was that the American had taken some time off from the Preventers to use his government pension to travel across Europe, or go to Disney World… or something like that.
"Duo trouble," Wufei said, almost bitterly, and then closed his eyes as if in meditation. Heero studied the Chinese pilot's face. The first thing he noticed was that Wufei had aged gracefully. His cheekbones were more pronounced and the former full, roundness of his face was lost in maturity. His eyes were intense, and only the tip of his chin was shadowed with stubble. His eyes reopened and locked with Heero's again.
"He is a hostage to the Russian Rebel Movement. It is a long story… basically I got word from Quatre that he received an unusual e-mail from Duo asking him for the schematics of the Gundams for 'sentimental value'. Quatre, as you know, had data about the Gundams recorded and locked up safe before the suits were destroyed. He had a few of his men trace the e-mail and it turns out it was sent from Russia. After flat out saying 'no' in response he received a video from the rebels, having Duo tied up, threatening to kill him if Quatre didn't hand over the data." Wufei rubbed his eyes with the palms of his
hands and cleared his throat. "All Preventers are all involved, working night and day to try and locate where they are holding him, but we haven't been able to pinpoint an exact position. They keep moving before we can finally catch them. Trowa is currently with a recon group in Russia and Quatre has constructed a team of IT and hacking gurus to try and trace their whereabouts over the net."
Heero let the information process before looking down at his hands. "How long have they had him?"
"Three months." Wufei said slowly, studying Heero's face. "We would have told you sooner but it was difficult to locate you. And you don't have any phone number or e-mail anymore so…"
Heero nodded. He had made sure nobody could get a hold of him. It had added to his isolation.
"What do you want me to do?" The Japanese boy said, his voice sounding harsh. Wufei sighed and gazed at Heero with half-lidded eyes.
"Anything you can." He swayed in his spot and blinked furiously, obviously fighting his exhaustion. Heero frowned and stood up.
"Come, you need sleep." Heero urged, walking over to the tired Chinese pilot.
Wufei opened his mouth to protest but then thought better of it. Heero urged him to a stand and then let him to his room.
"I cannot sleep in your bed," Wufei said weakly, but at Heero's glare didn't give any more resistance and flopped down onto the mattress and slipped into a exhaustion-induced coma.
Heero shut off the light and walked out onto his small front porch and looked up at the sky. Space seemed much brighter from Earth; a deep, glowing blue. This dark blue canvas was littered with specks of silver light that shrunk and expanded like a faint, unsteady pulse. He could see the faint outline of the L1 colony cluster just overhead, mingling lazily amongst the stars and satellites. He took a deep breath of the cool night air. The scent of jasmine filled his nose. He closed his eyes.
A vision of Duo strapped to a table with a crazy, grizzle-beard Russian hovering over him with a smoldering fire poker flashed across the inside of his eyelids. His eyes snapped open.
The thought startled him. He turned and looked down the narrow, beaten path through the woods that led to town, as if waiting for someone to come out from the darkness. I owe him.
A strange sensation rushed through his fingertips and he took a deep breath, focusing on the intense feeling. A throbbing became apparent from the back of his neck, racing up and down his spine like a bolt of lightning. His scar, from the surgery that had recovered him, had sometimes ached. However, now it seemed to be trying to communicate to him. He recalled all the time Duo had spent helping him. The American pilot had cared for him night and day, dedicating immeasurable time and energy into Heero's recovery.
He was his friend.
Heero sighed and placed a hand on the frame surrounding the sliding screen. His fingers slid deftly across the smooth, dark wood. His new life would have to wait. Yuki would have to wait.
A breeze rustled his robe and tousled his damp hair. He could feel the cool, smooth metal of the gun neatly hidden against his side. He reached into the flap of his dark blue robe and pulled forth the gun, holding it up to inspect it with a steady hand. It felt comfortable against his palm, his finger resting at home on the trigger.
I promised myself I would never have to use this again.
The fact was he had not shot a gun or done anything even mildly violent since his dealings with Mariemaia Kushrenada. He had kept that promise to never hurt anyone again, but now a fellow comrade was in need.
What am I going to do? The scar on his back throbbed once more. He looked down at the gun, its smooth dark gray finish dull in the moonlight. He pointed the barrel up at the colony that floated unknowingly above, and pulled the trigger with a resounding click. Nothing happened.
… mission accepted.
His eyes narrowed and with one smooth, fluid motion he snapped back the slide and looked down into the empty chamber. He then released it with a snap. A bullet clicked in place.
"I'm coming, Duo."
