Perfection

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters. I'm doing this for fun, not making any money from it. ^.^

Warnings: Slight Heero angst. Nothing too bad.

This is my first fic - so please review and let me know what you think!

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Perfection

By Crysta

Perfect. That's what I am meant to be. The Perfect Soldier, who feels nothing. But it's a lie.

Because I feel it all.

The pain, the suffering of the ones I kill – the ones whose lives I take, and for what? An end to the war? I learned long ago that soldiers are expendable. The loss of a few fighters will not end anything. Us, we are expendable too.

I should have died long ago – when I self-destructed Wing. But I'm still here, and still drowning in my pain. Outside, there is nothing. I am the emotionless soldier. But inside I am torn and bleeding.

They can't see it, but I do. My body, my soul, everything about me is stained with blood. Every night, I see my own actions through their eyes, their fear and agony as they die. I hide it all, but it doesn't stop the hurt, and the guilt.

The guilt hurts the worst. So many of the ones that die are merely following orders – they have nothing to do with the cause of the war! And how many of them have families? Husbands or wives, children? Innocent people – murdered for nothing.

Just like the little girl. It is Duo that claims to be Shinigami, but now I am not so sure. Perhaps it is I who should bear that title. It seems I am destined to kill the innocent ones.

Destroyer of Innocence. It has a nice ring to it, no? It seems that is what I am.

For the others, perfection provides an excuse. "I'm not perfect!" the others will cry when being told off for making mistakes. But I don't have that excuse to make. Because I AM perfect, or so they claim.

But true perfection is not possible to achieve. Because if it was, if I were really a perfect soldier, I wouldn't hurt inside. But I do.

In that sense, I guess I too can claim I am imperfect. Not that any of them would accept it as an excuse. But I can admit to it. It is true, after all. Why deny the truth? I always say to my friends that they should live by their emotions – maybe it is because it is something I struggle with so badly. I do not want them to become like me, maybe that is it?

It is far too late for that. We are Gundam pilots. They will end up like me, hurting inside for what they have done. It is clear.

I understand now.

My imperfection is my sin – and my job is my crucifix.