Three: And Then She Left

After eight, he walked to his house. He walked back to the place where he had spent the most of his days in San Muerte; the only place he had ever grown accustomed to calling home. He walked up the stairs, the old and worn out stairs. The paint was chipped on the banister and they creaked every time he moved. The stairwell smelled of mold and there were cracks along the walls and on the ceiling. The walls that were once white were now a dingy beige; a sign of the dirt collected on it over time.

There were sixty steps he had to climb to get to the third floor. Sixty moldy, smelly, creaky, old steps that he was going to actually miss. He would have never admitted it to anyone, and if they asked he would have said that this move was for the better. In truth though, he was going to miss this place like he had only missed one other thing in his life...

Heero pushed open the door to the third floor and dragged himself down the rotunda of his apartment building, turning where turning was needed. He finally made it to his place, number 311. He looked at the silver numbers on his door, recording everything about them in his mind. They were his numbers. They were still his numbers, at least for a little while longer.

He pulled out his keys and unlocked his door. This was the last time he would ever come home at night, using his key to get in his apartment.

He paused. His memories were good in this place. Heero looked back down the hall and remembered the time Anya had stolen his keys. She was running towards his door - going to open up his place, and find her birthday present. It would have worked if she hadn't tripped. Yuy smiled. That was one of those moments were he had genuinely been happy, chasing her to get his keys back. He tried to help her up, but she pulled him down next to her. They just lay in the hallway in front of his door, laughing like there was nothing left in the world to do. Sure they had been drunk, but still, it was a wonderful fragment of time they had stolen.

He pushed the door open. They wouldn't be able to do that anymore.

His steps echoed as he walked into the foyer. He put his gun down on the side table and threw his keys in the basket that rested there. Heero walked slowly into his living room. It was a small room. He hadn't never really noticed how small it was until now. It was tiny. His couch, his table, and the chair in the corner - they were the only real pieces of furniture in the room and they were so close together it made the room cramped. It was such a tiny room; he wondered how he had ever lived in it before.

The light on his answering machine was blinking.

The new bodyguard walked over to it. He watched the light blink for a moment - red, gone, red, gone. It was hypnotic, or maybe he was just willing to be put under a spell.

There was a little pang of depression in Yuy and he looked out at his balcony. The sun was just now setting. Just five more days till Christmas. He had hoped he might spend it with Anya like last year. They had gone out, got drunk, and decided that Christmas was a holiday for crazy people. People with families and people with lives. They were people that had been seduced by the holiday cheer and were now maxing out credit cards and throwing themselves to the wolves all in the name of good Saint Nick.

Heero had bought her the Walkman. She had bought him the all- purpose knife.

Yuy took a deep breath. He couldn't think about this shit anymore. He had all ready accepted the job, besides, what about Relena? Why weren't his thoughts plagued with ideas of Relena? Why wasn't he swooning over her or moping over her or doing something self-destructive or crazy to himself over her?! He was mad again and whenever he got mad he drank.

Heero decided against the Jack Daniels and hit a button on the machine. He let it play while he walked into his bedroom to get some boxes.

"Leave a message. Don't hang up." His voice said over the phone. Such a friendly message! An electronic voice kicked in. "You have two messages. Message one:"

Heero walked back in with seven boxes and stared at the machine.

"Yuy. It's Davenport. Listen I have an offer for you. I need you to take care of a--" He hit the erase button. No use in listening to it; he wouldn't be here to do the job anyway. Besides, assassination was never his style. The electronic voice confirmed that he had erased the message.

"Message two:"

"Oh wow, you actually sound like you don't want to kill yourself on that one, ya?" Heero looked up at the machine; a stifled smile crossed his face. Anya. "Uhm, well all right, it's five-thirty and I guess you aren't back from your interview. I was just calling to see, you know, how things went. Just call me when you get this, if you ever check your messages. Much love."

The machine clicked and the electronic voice told him it was the end of the message. He stared at the black box. She had sounded so happy. How could he call her and tell her that he had gotten the job, only it was seven hours away?

How could he tell her he wasn't going to be here for Christmas or any other holiday? Her birthday was coming up soon; he probably wouldn't be able to be here for that either. How could he tell her that the interview she had set up for him was the one thing that was going to take him away?

Guilt swept over him and he fell back into his chair.

The phone rang, but she didn't hear it. She was to busy painting the vase she had just made and listening to extremely loud, completely indiscernible techno music. The second time, she looked over at it, making sure it had, and on the third wring, she put her paintbrush in the pan and turned down the music. She ran over and picked up her phone that resembled a duck.

"Korvchek." She spoke harshly into the receiver as she wiped her eyes with back of her hand. White and blue paint stained her fingers and the apron she had on.

"It's me." Heero said on the other end. He sighed heavily as he sat back down in the chair. This was it. This was the moment of confession, although he wasn't really sure what he was about to confess. He could hear her voice change

from professional to personal; he could almost see the smile that crossed her face.

"You actually picked up the phone and called me, Cyka. I'm very impressed!" She laughed. She took the white portable phone and headed into her kitchen. The teapot on the stove was whistling. "Just a sec." She took it off the burner and turned off the stove. He listen to the whistle cease, dreading the moment when she would ask the question--

"So how did it go? Did you get the job?!" Anya excitedly asked as she sat down with her hot tea on her tiny purple couch. Her apartment was a small studio space on the first floor of an old building on the opposite side of town. She looked out the window in front of her and saw the giant buildings with their lights on. She took a breath and smiled.

She really enjoyed her life now. It was a good life.

She took a sip of her tea and waited. The silence on the other end of the line was normal, but, when it lasted a little bit longer than a minute, she began to worry. "Heero?"

"Yeah?" He replied and for a moment, she thought she heard his voice crack a little, like he was fighting back some sadness. Her smile faded to a serious blankness that covered her face. She put her cup down on her end table.

"Did you get the job?" She asked, and he could hear the worry in her voice. Yuy took a deep breath and wiped the slight wetness from his eyes. It was now or never.

"Yeah, actually, I did." He said, recovering a stable tone and composure. He felt like such a freak of nature, getting all misty eyed over something as stupid as moving. Anya's voice picked up enthusiasm and he heard her swallow the tea in her mouth.

"That's fantastic!" She shouted into the duck. She was so happy for him! She knew he would get the job. She knew he was what they wanted - that Mr. Takada. And now, because of her, he was one-step closer to his dream. One-step closer to finding that girl he always talked about, that blonde fairy that stole away his dreams. He now had the job, the money, and he'd be in the center of knowledge and information - Dolthan, and her own staggering realization took the breath out her.

He would be in Dolthan, and she would be here, left here, in San Muerte. Anya closed her eyes. It was a horrible realization, the kind that should be locked away somewhere. She mustered the courage up and pushed back the estrangement in her throat.

"I'm guessing this means you're moving to Dolthan, huh?" She asked through a haze of confusion.

And there it was. The question he had prayed with all of his heart she would never ask, and yet, the one question he needed her too more than anything else. Yuy looked down at his feet and ran his cold, strong hands through his dirty brown hair. He sat now, in a sea of loneliness and his own personal torment. He still had his white dress shirt. He used to have another one like it, but it had been thrown away after he had been shot in it. For some reason, he felt like Anya was that shirt he was throwing away.

Two shirts, which to get rid of and which to keep? .

"That's the, the part about it..." Christ, it shouldn't be so hard to tell her this! He didn't love her! She was just a girl he knew! She was just a girl he had grown accustomed to. It was the unknown he was afraid of, the loss of familiarity - not the loss of Anya. His rationalization gave him a sort of strength.

"Uhm, no, I won't be in Dolthan." He said.

"Oh?" She said quickly. Anya sat back down on her couch. If he wasn't going to be in Dolthan, maybe he was going to stay here? No, that was crazy. He wouldn't be put in San Muerte. He was going to leave. He was going to go far, far away. She laid her head down in the palm of her hand and let it sink if for a moment.

"So, where exactly, are you going to, be at, exactly?" She eventually managed to say. Her tone betraying her own breaking heart. She sounded curious, curious and happy, and it was the tone in her voice that finally killed him. The Heero Yuy of the now took and deep breath and closed down his mind. He let himself fall through a web of his own murky pasts, and when he finally exhaled, he was Heero Yuy the Gundam Pilot.

"I'm going to be in Grenvale." He said, his voice as blank and cold as the expression on his face. He stood up and started to put things in the first box.

Anya let her arm slide down to her side. The shock had taken root now, and there were no people in the world anymore. Just her and the man on the other end of the phone line. The man on the other end of the line who was moving away from her. The man on the other end of the line who had saved her from herself so many times. She blinked, her body slowly shutting down, one emotion at a time.

"Grenvale." She repeated in a low and monotone voice.

"It's only seven hours away." Heero retorted, not breaking his code of the perfect soldier. "It's not like I'm moving to a different colony or something."

Korvchek could hear the frigidness in his voice, and she could see his face in her mind. His eyes were cold and black now. She knew the face well. It was the face that he fronted when he had given up. It was the face he fronted when he didn't care, or when he cared so much that the pain was so sharp it brought tears to his eyes.

"When do you leave?" Her voice was still low and bitter.

"Tomorrow." Heero said as he threw another thing into the box.

"Tomorrow?!" Anya's voice cracked through the tears in her voice, and it came out as only a whisper. Her world was falling apart now, or rather, it wasn't really falling apart, just slowly losing some of the finer buildings. Her mouth fell open and she tried to recover from her emotional breakdown. "Wow, they, really..." She stopped and took a deep breath to try to regulate her sporadic breathing. "They really must have wanted you on their team, ya?" She laughed as she tried to shrug off the hurt. It was hard, but she knew she'd survived. She always had.

"I guess so." Heero replied as nonchalant as possible. She heard him pull some tape and wrap it around a box. He certainly wasn't wasting anytime.

"So you're packing right now?" Korvchek asked. She knew he was packing, they both knew that she did. But for some reason, as she wiped the tears away from her eyes and blinked hard, she had to ask. She had to hear it from him.

"Yes, I am." The emotionless soldier returned. He unfolded another box and began walking around the house, tossing random things into the boxes. That was it. She couldn't take it anymore, she was about to loose it, and if he wanted to play Captain Commando - if he wanted to play Mr. I'm-as-Tough- as-Fucking-Nails - fine! Let him! She didn't need this, this added bonus to the depression that was all ready massive.

"Well, okay! I'm going to come over and help you pack tomorrow morning, ya? Around ten?" She said quickly and almost well enough to sound like there was nothing wrong. He could still hear her sniffle on the other end of the receiver and he knew she was going to loose it soon. Anya poured a huge amount of vodka into her tea and took a huge drink. "But I have to go, I'm painting that vase and the paint's all, drying out and, and, and crusting over." She coughed and made a mental note that vodka and green tea was like drinking lighter fluid.

"Ten sounds fine." Heero said, stolid as ever.

Anya closed her eyes tight and tilted her head back. It was no use fighting it anymore, and she let a sob creep out from her voice. "Okay, well," she paused, trying to catch her breath, "I'm going to let you go now."

He heard the cry, and suddenly the soldier boy was gone, but it was too late.

"An--"

The line went dead and he had never felt as alone and as depressed in the last three years as he did at this exact moment. His mind went somewhere else, and all he could do was sit. Sit in his chair.

The dial tone was the only sound heard for a while. Finally, the operator spoke up. There was nothing he could do.

There was nothing at all that could be done.

She just sat on her couch, staring ahead but not really staring at all.

It was like they were watching a dream they couldn't wake up from. Like they were pieces in some horrible nightmare. Or at least, that's how she felt as she laid down on her couch, tears slowly falling from her cerulean colored eyes. He looked out onto the balcony; the pits around his eyes growing more defined. So this was what it was like to live in limbo. Never really knowing what's going to happen next. It didn't matter though, not anymore. Yuy took a deep breath; a sharp quiver jetted through him. There was no turning back now. And it had never been more apparent until he picked up another box and kept packing.

Midnight came and went, taking it with it one and two o'clock. The walls were naked again, and most of his things were packed away, resting in a box on his couch or on the floor in the living room. It was three by the time he finally walked back to his bed and collapsed in a heap of depression, satisfaction, and wonder.

His dreams were empty and her sleep was in vain. Anya tossed and turned all night, and there was a sweet release when his alarm clock went off at seven. Heero woke up. He stared at the ceiling; its strange bumps and patterns from the white powdery shit made it kind of like a maze. A giant maze that had no end.

Oh this was great! It wasn't even eight in the morning yet and he was all ready making analogies for life out a ceiling.

The water washed over her as she stood in the shower. Korvchek closed her eyes and tried to think of happy thoughts, of things that she could grasp hold to for some kind of inner strength or something. She got out of the shower, and after he dried himself off, he put on a fresh suit. Black pants and a jacket with a white shirt under it.

Anya had once told him that he could pass for a movie star if he tried. He sprayed a little cologne on and looked at himself in the mirror. Today was a new day. Today was a fresh start into the world unknown, and she could feel her knees buckling under her. She threw her hair up in a five-second style and walked out the front door in her bohemian peasant dress.

He packed up the last little bit of his things - dishes and silverware and the like. Some clothes went into some of the boxes, and his shoes went in another. It was all good though. He thought that he had maybe finally come to terms with this whole venture into the darkness idea. It wasn't like he was moving to a different colony. He was only seven hours away. That's a good vacation time, a healthy distance for friends. And there was always the phone, and the Internet, and the mail! It wasn't like he was cutting himself off from this world, just relocating for a while.

Heero walked out onto his balcony, and watched the world wake up. Reality was sort of in slow motion now.

Everything was creeping along - cars, people. Or maybe it wasn't the world was going slow, maybe he had just slowed his mind down, so he could remember every detail of this place. Every crook, every corner.

The wind blew in from the east. It was going to be one of those beautiful, beautiful days. He might have gone with Anya for a walk, if he weren't leaving.

It was ten now, and the air still had a fresh snow scent as the white flakes began to fall. It was Saturday, and he watched as people sleepily dragged themselves from their houses to retrieve the morning paper. It was a serene sight, almost tranquil; hypnotic. He leaned against the railing on his balcony, engrossed by the calm.

His doorbell rang and snapped him back to reality.

Yuy looked back into his house. He didn't have to answer the door. He could just let her stay out there; eventually she'd leave. There wouldn't be any confrontations or teary goodbyes that way. The bell rang again and Heero took a deep breath. He could never do that to Anya, and he never would.

So, he went and opened his front door.

Korvchek had a smile on her face and was holding a box of donuts in one hand and two cups of coffee in the other.

Heero looked at her for a moment. She looked different; she looked depressed. It wasn't her expression that betrayed her, it was her eyes. They were still a little bloodshot.

"I have brought donuts and coffee to help us pack!" She said chipper and bright as she rose each hand up. Heero nodded and took the coffee from her. She gracefully walked in to the kitchen and put the donuts down on the counter. Anya took off her hat and gloves and put them in her purse. And finally, she looked around into the apartment.

"Oh." She whispered to herself as she stepped into the living room. There were boxes stacked against walls; there were boxes everywhere. Anya sighed. "You've all ready packed up... Everything." A lump started to rise in her throat as she traced her fingers against the brown cardboard containers that lined the halls of his house. Heero put the coffee he had been drinking down and followed her out into the living room.

"I didn't feel like going to sleep." He said. He gave a small smile when she looked back at him.

"This place is, so empty without stuff in it." She declared with a little laugh. They had never been any good at small talk, and this was just a further testament to that truth. Heero knew what she was trying to do though and he thanked her secretly for it. She was trying to lighten the load, break the ice in some ways. He stared at her while she let her eyes dance around the room. Her hair was falling against her shoulders, damp from snowfall. She was so beautiful.

"Just a little." He replied. He put his hands in his pockets. For people who had been such good friends, it was hard for them to think of things to say. There was a break in the conversation, both looking around blankly. Anya coughed and then looked back at him

"This is one of the nicer apartments in the city though." She gestured towards the kitchen and outside. "You lucked out when you got it."

Heero smirked as he sat down in his chair. "Yeah, that's what a lot of people told me."

"Yeah." Anya said with a smile and nod. She took a seat on the couch.

There was nothing more to say. Nothing to say to each other or about the weather or about any of the things happening in their lives. They just sat.

Once upon a time, one of them might have said that it felt good just to be in each other's company, not saying anything. Just basking in the presence of the other. Now, it was just a death sentence. The awkward absence of anything important -- it was hard enough to even look at each other. Their presence wasn't comforting anymore, just a haunting reminder of what they were fixing to loose.

Two hours passed with the blinking of their eyes. Not a word had passed between the two. They were like prisoners on death row, waiting for the executioner to call them to the gallows. Anya shifted slightly on the couch, her eyes glued to the floor. She couldn't think of anything to say. There just weren't any words to express any of the thoughts or feelings she was having, and she figured he was having the same problem. He was leaned forward in his chair, his eyes on his boots. Every now and then they stole glances at each other, but never let their eyes meet. That would be a suicide of a very different kind -- emotional suicide.

And then there was a knock at the door.

Their eyes darted upward almost at the same time and the tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Anya finally looked at Heero. It was now or never. If he didn't open the door, they would go away, and he could stay in San Muerte for a little while longer. But if he opened it...

Yuy closed his eyes and with a heavy heart, stood to open the door.

Anya turned away and faced the balcony. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream and weep like she had never done before, but she knew she couldn't. It would only make things harder. If she had only known what she was getting into when she had made the call. And her common sense tried to reason with her. It wasn't like he was moving to some colony out in space. He was just moving a city or six away. It wasn't like she was never going to see him again and this was what she had to accept. She was going to see him again, maybe not everyday, maybe not every week, but at least once every month or two. Weekend trips weren't bad.

The movers came in and started picking up boxes and furniture. Heero leaned against a wall and kept looking at the

floor.

Where there had been thirty boxes, now there were only twenty. The twenty turned into thirteen and the thirteen into seven. Anya got off the couch and watched as they took it out of the apartment. Now there were only three boxes.

Then two.

There was only one box left in the entire house, and Korvchek looked at it with a hatred that had defined ages and helped kill kings. It was the symbol. This was the end.

Heero came out from the back, a suitcase by his side. He lowered it to the ground and he finally looked at the little Russian girl he felt like he had known for all his life. He was dressed to leave. His black suit covered by a black trench coat. Anya had always said he could be a movie star if he tried, and now she knew that she had been right. He could be anything he wanted, he was going to be anything he wanted - with or without her.

She smiled and walked up to him. He looked down at her as she ran her hands against the chest of his jacket. He could see her fighting back the tears.

"Look at you." She exclaimed. "My Cyka, all ready to go to work."

He put his hand on the back of her neck, stroking some of her hair that had fallen out. She smelled of fresh lilacs, a smell that Heero didn't think he'd ever be able to forget. He sighed. "You're still the funny Russian."

She laughed. "And I'm still the only one that can make you squeal."

"You grabbed my chest." Heero grinned as he shook his head. "You weren't playing fair."

"Fair's for pansies, ya?" She looked up at him, and her smile faded away. Her eyes were watery now and Yuy could see the creases of pain appearing on her face. It took the whole man inside of him to hold back his own tears.

"It's only seven hours." He whispered to her. She tried to smile, but only gave a weak grin.

"Weekend visits." She mimicked and looked away.

"Mr. Yuy, we're ready." One of the movers called to him.

"Okay." Heero turned to him while Anya looked the other way and wiped her eyes. "Give me a minute." The mover shook his head in understanding and walked out the front door. Heero turned his Russian's face towards him.

"I will come back, Anya." He spoke with a military grace and seriousness that she hadn't seen in a while. She smiled.

"And I'll still be here." She mused as she let a stray tear fall from her face. He watched her as she played with a button on his jacket. He hated long goodbyes. Or maybe it was just that he hated goodbyes in general. Whatever it was, he had to end it now. He looked up at the window and cleared his throat.

"You always did look so handsome in a suit." Anya whispered as she rubbed her hands against the breast of his jacket. There was something different in her touch and he could feel his own doubts and depression starting to rise in his chest. He was going to have to go soon before--

Anya Korvchek raised herself up to Yuy, letting her lips trespass against his own.

Some people say that the world can come to a screeching halt for a person in an unexpected situation, like a car crash or a marriage proposal. They say that time can slow down and minutes can float by like hours. They say people do some crazy things in their time of need, in that last little need for reality. And Heero, too much in surprise and shock to understand or think, did the only thing he could do.

He kissed her back.

There was no pain left now and she knew he had no real reason to stay. But she kissed him and he her. Not because she wanted him, but because she needed him in a way that neither one of them could ever understand. Maybe it was love; maybe it was just the need to taste him before he walked away forever, but it was deeper that anything she had ever felt in her entire life. And as they stood there, intertwined in each other, the world did slow down. And Yuy felt a guilt creep over him as she pulled back.

He looked down at her, confused and bewildered. She returned his gaze with a wounded smile.

"Consider it your Christmas present." She whispered.

Anya Korvchek pulled away from Heero Yuy, and with her came a little piece of a Heaven she knew that she would never have again.

Heero watched in a kind of fixated horror as the Russian girl he had grown so close to picked up her purse and started to walk away.

She stopped, short of the door, and in the tone that was more haunting and more dignified than anything he had ever heard in his life, she simply said: "Goodbye."

The door shut behind her and no words could ever be used to explain the way he felt.

And for a moment, the world seemed surreal.

In a million years he would have never imagined a moment so intense. He had lived through a war, been shot at, and come so close to death that he could feel the pale horse and rider circling round him. But, in that moment - that indefinable moment - Yuy was happy.

Part of him told him to run after her and make her come with him, but his feet wouldn't move. His feet couldn't move. He knew he couldn't. He was too conflicted to try. But in every possible way, Anya had just pulled the chair out from under Relena, and Yuy wondered if he had enough time to cut her down.

He closed his eyes, and this time, when he opened them, nothing had changed. He was still here, in this room. He was still the same old Heero Yuy, and walking out of his apartment building for the last time, he wondered if Anya knew - that if she had asked him to stay - he would have.