I'm so sorry for my super late update (again), but this time it's partially NOT my fault. I've been busy (not by choice).
The other half, sadly, was my own doing. Lately I've been obsessed with Mozart L'opera Rock which is a FANTASTIC french musical with the most amazing singers. I highly recommend it even if you don't speak french (I don't very well.) It's worth watching.
Anyway! I've also gotten a lot of comments wondering how I will pull off the survival of the 5 boys. All I can tell you is that they WILL survive the games and hopefully you guys won't be too disappointed in how they manage to do so.
Moving on. I don't own The Hunger Games or Gundam Wing.
Chapter 10:
The commotion that met me back on Trowa and my floor was almost frightening. Instructor H and Doctor S had spread an incredible amount of papers and plans across the dining room table and stood over it mumbling and gesturing wildly at one paper or another. Noin paced in front of the couch; periodically wringing her hands or sighing in frustration. Catherine, who seemed to be the only one not feeling the panic, met us at the door with tea and sandwiches.
Trowa selected a sandwich and promptly disappeared into his room, but not before offering me a look that differed only slightly from his normal blankness. For I moment I even sensed curiosity from him, but it was gone before I could offer him a matching look of confusion. Catherine followed the young man down the hall spouting encouragements and praise for his interview all the way.
I advanced toward Noin in an attempt to find an explanation for the worry and anxiousness simmering throughout the room. She looked at me and at once I saw that all the conspiracy and friendliness was gone.
"Oh, Quatre!" She sighed. "Everything was going so well. You were perfect! How could you go and throw it all away?"
"Throw what away, Miss Noin? What did I do?" I asked in wonder. I heard a distinct snort from the direction of the dining room where the mentors stood.
"What you did, boy, is ruin any chance you had at surviving these games. Bravo, boy, bravo." Instructor H called. Superiority and anger rolling off him savagely. Now I was frustrated as well.
"What are you talking about?" I snapped at him, very uncharacteristically. I couldn't help it. My life was in his hands and he was telling me that I was as good as dead and by my own means. He snorted at me again and joined Noin and I in the living room.
"Quatre," Noin said softly, setting a hand on my shoulder in comfort. "When you said that you saved that girl 'because it was the right thing to do' you told The Alliance they were wrong. You made them, and the world, finally face the fact that what they do is horrible and wrong."
"But, I..." I began not knowing what to say. I'd been so overwhelmed downstairs that I hadn't thought about what I was saying. How could I make such a mistake? How could I not sense the shock of the audience? Of course, it was because I was just so grateful to have a reprieve from the constant excitement.
"There's no way The Alliance will let someone like you live." H assured me and I was at a loss. He was right. I was doomed. Now, even if I managed to avoid death by another tribute, The Alliance would send every unfortunate "accident" my way in an attempt to kill me before I could say anymore. I'd seen it happen before in past games.
Noin tried to comfort me. She thought up all sorts of unreasonable plans for how I could fight my way through the arena, but we both knew they wouldn't succeed. Tonight I had spoken my own execution. In silence I stumbled back to my room, locking the door behind me. Once I was alone I relaxed my nerves enough to explode in frustration.
I screamed loud enough that my voiced cracked and I pounded the walls like some deranged ape. I ripped the sheets and blanket from my bed and flung them around the room. I threw open my closet and tore the clothes that weren't really mine from their hangers. Everything I touched was sent sailing across the room in my attempt to free the pandemonium I felt. I was so … mad. In both the emotional and mental way. I was furious with The Alliance for putting me in this situation. I was furious at Instructor H for telling me what I'd done. I was furious at myself for being so dumb. I was even furious at Elle for being chosen in the first place, but I felt guilty for that anger. She had nothing to do with my idiotic mistake. Finally, my hands found Rashid's goggles where they rested on my bedside table. I gripped them in an angry fist, but stopped a breath before tossing them. Rashid was my friend. The one who believed that I would return home to him and his group. Rashid, who taught me to defend myself against the unforeseen. I would never see him or my colony again now. I would never return the dear goggles that he entrusted me with. All because I'd been careless.
I collapsed into a heap of misery just inches from the bed and buried my face into my hands with fierce sadness. I squeezed my eyes against the tears, but they fell anyway. My body was trying to release the defeat, the disappointment, but I wouldn't let it. I held on to those emotions, because I wanted to feel my own stupidity. I wanted to punish myself for ruining everything.
I was a dead man and it wall all my own fault.
Sometimes later, I was too dazed to know how much time had passed, Noin knocked on the door. Rather than stand and make my way over like a normal human being I continued to wallow in my defeat by scooting across the carpet to the door. It was weak, but I didn't care.
Noin cleaned me up and got me changed; all the while sighing my name in exasperation and sympathy. I could feel that she was sincere, but that didn't matter really. Finally, she got me settled under the sheets of my newly made bed and retreated back to the hall. In the corridor I could hear her speak softly to someone, but I was too exhausted to distinguish words. It was strange, I felt empty and yet full of emotion all at once.
It was completely unexpected and somewhat shocking when the next person to enter my room that night was Trowa Barton. He didn't seem particularly happy to be there either and I picked up on wispy streams of uncertainty and something akin to nervousness as he stepped toward me. I just watched him without caring if it made him uncomfortable, because as far as I knew nothing could disturb the L-3 tribute. He sat silently in the arm chair near my bed and watched me in return. This lasted for some time since neither of us was in the mood to speak at the moment.
Eventually, he opened his mouth to form words.
"Catherine sent me." He spoke in his soft voice. I probably could have figured that out if I'd wanted to, but I was much too hopeless to care why he was there.
We sank into silence again and, bored, I turned my attention to examining the features of my complex companion. From this distance I could see Trowa's face much more clearly. He had a small scar under one eye, the one that wasn't covered by his layered brown hair. He also had dark eyes, though I couldn't decipher the color through the dark of my room; the only light being that coming in from the hall. I'm not sure how long it took me to make these observations, but I had just moved on to Trowa's strange hair style when he spoke again.
"You can still survive." He voiced quietly, arms crossed and looking at the floor. "You're smart and observant. You could win."
This simple statement shocked me like a spark instantly, as if the heavy clouds had finally broken. It wasn't necessarily that I believed him, but more the fact that someone, that Trowa, still thought I could live. I couldn't feel any reassurance in his emotions so I sought his eyes through the gloom. Anything to prove that he wasn't lying to me. After a moment he met my gaze and, though his stare was as closed as always, I knew he had meant what he said. Some part of my consciousness understood that.
"You'll do much better in the arena than I ever could." I told him. "Everyone already expects you to win. You or Heero, that is." I watched as Trowa slumped forward slightly and broke our eye contact. Whispers of something dark and sad reached my heart and I wanted to reach out my hand to him. I was overcome by a need similar to what drove me to volunteer in the first palce. I wanted to do something, anything, to extinguish that horrible feeling I was only getting the barest taste of. Just that small slip of emotion from him created a painful sensation in my soul. I stopped before that idea could find a hold in my mind, though. Trowa and I weren't friends and he wouldn't appreciate my touch, whether I meant well or not.
He left me alone a few minutes later and I listened to the swish of his near silent steps until I couldn't anymore. Tomorrow there would be no quiet stares for us to share. Tomorrow there would only be struggle and death.
Wow. So that turned out a bit more angsty than I planned.
Oh well. Nothing wrong with a bit of drama. Builds character.
Until next time.
-Loved-chan