The Ivories

Heero Yuy

I opened my eyes slowly, the morning warm against my lids. I knew it was late. It felt like it was so. How long had I played the piano in the darkness? It had been maybe 5am when I stopped. The sun had just been rising from the valley when I had settled into the bed's comfort again. I reached across the bed, felt nothing and tried to wake myself up. I focused my blurry eyes upon the place where Catherine had slept. Empty. But the place was still warm to the touch. Then I heard the constant sound made by rushing water falling on tiles. She was showering, and hadn't left my side for long. I was glad that she hadn't started downstairs without me. Somehow, the thought of being alone seemed… frightening. I shook the misinterpretation off me. I didn't like this feeling clinging to me. It wasn't the proper attire for the presence of love's beauty held within a human's vessel. It wasn't appropriate for her.

For the second time that morning, I put my bare feet on the hotel's floor and sighed. There was something I had to do today… something that was nagging the very back of my mind. I was sitting on the bed, trying to relive my hours of the day previous and where I had planned my path for the present when I heard the tumblers of a door and then soft footsteps. These sounds didn't seem to penetrate my thought process, though, so I never really registered them. There was a small moment of silence before her voice rang forth. "Today is free," she said. I looked up. She was fluffing her fiery hair dry, towel wrapped tightly around her body, while she read my face. I smiled, trying to cover the little dance the blood was having in my cheeks. But she knew I was still worried about the chance that she might be wrong. "I've made sure you had a day without worry. You've seemed a bit stressed lately, my dear," she pulled the towel away from her hair and reached for her brush. I was watching the long strokes. It was the same way she painted portraits, the way she brushed her hair. Her strong hands would move so gently… in waves…

My fingers held that familiar ache again. I pulled my fingers into a fist and released them, maybe to relieve this pressure, but they just tingled for the want. What was wrong with me? Night and day I felt the throb in my fingers, yet I hated to play now. The fame had ruined the art…

I felt something on my shoulder and looked up. Catherine was poking me with her hairbrush. "It's your turn for the shower," she said and took the brush back up to her head. I stood up and made my way to the bathroom. When I got to the door, I slipped off my pajama shirt and opened the door. Then something occurred to me. I turned back to her. "Catherine, what time is it?" I asked. She frowned at this. Her face was strong, but it faltered just enough for me to notice. She didn't like that my life now revolved around dates and times. But still, she gave in to the question. "It's almost nine," she said.

The shower was refreshing, enough to wake me, but not enough to rescue me from my mood. It seemed so empty, something did. I put a hand on my forehead, the shampoo spilling over my skin, and leaned against the wall, letting the warm water run wasted down the drain. What was bringing me down? I rinsed my hair quickly and washed off the remainder of soap from my body. Finished, I pushed the curtain from my way and stepped out of the shower. While wiping myself dry, I saw another person in there with me. I didn't cry out in alarm, nor shoo the poor devil away, I just took in the site. Youth ravaged. Blue eyes were nearly sunken into his flesh. The sensual lips were formed in a sad frown but the person had soft pretty hands. I glared at the person and he glared back. It was me. It had always been me in the mirror staring back at myself through tired eyes. "I grow tired of you," I said as if the reflection were another person entirely. The words were mouthed back, but silenced in their turn. Ah, so the feeling was mutual between us. This muted character, this shell, and I hated each other. And that was that. I turned away, nearly sure the reflection had stayed in place, as if it had never belonged to me, and was mocking me with silent laughter. I was sure it was pointing its pretty finger at me with giggles and convulsive laughter. But I would never look up to make sure of its betrayal.

Fully clothed, minus a dress shirt, I stretched out on the bed. Catherine sat on the edge beside me, looking down with her deep eyes, the eyes in which I could lose myself endlessly. "Tired, darling?" she asked before leaning down to kiss my forehead. I nodded. It was the truth, especially when I had been up playing my forte until five. She smiled. "Well, I know what can get up!" she said with a giggle. She stood up, taking my hands and pulling me up with her. "First, we'll have a little coffee… and then we'll have the best darn ice cream you've ever tasted!" she smiled broadly. I looked at her… trying to foresee where I was going this morning.

"Trowa's here…?"

She laughed at my surprise. "Of course! My big brother always thinks ahead, doesn't he? He moved here last March and since his injury, he's been selling ice cream. How about it?" she tickled under my chin with one finger, "Its homemade… best ice cream in the world," she said, tempting me. I smiled. "Sure, why not?" I said. She returned the smile. "Well, then get on a T-shirt and let's go!" she exclaimed, breaking her hands away from mine and dancing a little in the room. I watched her as she spun. So graceful and full of life she was…

A little while later, we were walking down the concrete sidewalk of the park, headed towards a small white stand. We had been talking of the autumn colors in the park when Catherine turned and put her finger to her lips, signaling my silence. She tiptoed towards the stand where she knew her brother worked. Then she jumped out in front of it suddenly, red hair whirling like January embers and shirt rippling in the passing air.

"Hey big brother! I want a triple with sprinkles, syrup, whipped cream, and a cherry on top!"

She had jumped so quickly and said the words so fast, that a chocolate topped cone was sent falling towards the ground. She giggled and then reached around the side and pulled me out in front to see the chaos she had spun around her dear brother. He had an expression that seemed the crossbreed between surprise, frustration, and being happy, and shocked, to see his sister. Then his features brightened suddenly. "Never would've guessed!" he exclaimed with a smile on his lips, the expression identical to hers but more masculine. He pulled out something from beneath the counter and hung it out on front. "Out to lunch" it read in goofy letters, obviously hand-painted. He then closed the window and stepped out from behind the counter. He wrapped his arm around Catherine. "Hey Cathy! How's my little sis?" he asked, emerald eyes gazing down with the shine of life.

"I'm doing good. How's Sally?"

"Dealing… we have a four year old girl remember?"

Catherine giggled. "Yes, Maia… I remember that red-headed cutie well," she said, "We're here on Heero's tour and we'll be in town a few days."

"How many?"

"Maybe three. It really depends on how anxious Heero's manager is about starting it up again."

Trowa turned to me, and I felt the pressure for words building up inside my abdomen.

"So how have you been Heero?"

"Good."

"Have you been giving my Cathy all the sugar she can down? She's got a real sweet tooth you know…"

At this, Catherine gave him a small elbow in the side and I smiled. Now, they both looked at me… probing me.

"Do you feel okay Heero? You look a bit sluggish…"

"I'm fine," I said, dismissing this. I was tired, that was all. It was just like Catherine had said and had been brought upon by late night piano playing in the hotel lobby. It wasn't anything more. How could it be?

"You sure?"

I nodded. I wasn't even sure who had spoken it this time. I looked around me, not any of it seemed real anymore. It looked like a surreal painting…

Like dripping, fading, watercolors that gathered with the dark brush…

Like the end and beginning of it all, pushed together to produce one entity…