Alpha Target
By Famira Damaris

Disclaimer: I own nothing, much less any rights to any anime series including Mobile Suit: Gundam Wing. Sure wish I did
though. Man, I could actually buy stuff....wow. Not those weakling things anymore, actual stuff! Can you imagine that? But I do own this plot...
Author's Note: Fourth chapter! Brackets stand for thoughts, \'s stand for remembering feelings or bits of conversations, {'s stand for electronic stuff like P.A systems. Also, this fiction attempts to show how no one is perfect, and show that the relationship between Quatre and Trowa/Nanashi isn't spontaneous, that Trowa might have some dark thoughts regarding it. Quatre returns (as a memory-dream thingie, sorry to disappoint any Quatre fans reading this) Trowa gets sort of out of character here, but that's for you to decide, considering his situation and his confusion over his feelings.

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Alpha Target
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It was born to me of things
that are not of this land,
of kingdoms and kingdoms lost
that I had and I lost,
of all things living
that I have seen die
of all that was mine
and went from me.
- Gabriela Mistral "Land of Absence"

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Chapter 4 – Turns Out I Lied

AC 198, October 23
Earth, Festival Meadow

"Do you think this is necessary, Quatre?" I asked. He only continued to walk determinedly down the gravelly path. I shook my head, and lengthened my stride until I was matching his pace.

"I've been working nonstop, Trowa," a bright grin, "Look, I may be a Winner, but even I need to rest."

I resisted the urge to shake my head at the bad pun, "I understand that. But is going to a carnival really going to help?"

Quatre slung his casual jacket over his shoulder, and I found myself secretly admiring the way the motion was so fluid and graceful. I pushed the observation down, ashamed at the little pang of guilty pleasure.

"I'm sure it will. Everything's been so intense, I think it'd be good if we had a day or so off," he lifted his head to the afternoon sun, closing his eyes, "Today's going to be nice and sunny. Just right for having some fun!"

I said nothing, as I couldn't think of anything appropriate for the moment to say.

"You're so modest, Trowa! Sometimes you need to lighten up sometimes!" Quatre commented lightly, "You treat everything like it's serious! We're going to a *carnival*, not some sort of mission!"

"I suppose…"

"We're almost there. I guess it's pretty lucky they happened to be having a festival just when we're here on Earth," Quatre pointed.

The gravel path was winding up a small knoll, and I could hear the sounds of the tinny music that always accompanied a carnival. The sounds of laughter was faint, some of the rides' lights glimmering in the deepening afternoon. Quatre beamed, noticing already what he had pointed out to me.

"Let's go to the House of Mirrors first, alright?"

I shoved my hands in my pockets, "Sure." [I suppose he does have a point. We *have* been working non-stop for the New Years deadline. It'll be pleasant to not have to keep pouring over the first part of the speech for hours on end. Besides, it's not like I don't like being in Quatre's company. Rather that I think this was rather sudden]

But then again, we were friends, weren't we? So why not? Friends were supposed to do things like this in their spare time. The only difference was that Quatre had decided to make time for a day off. Same result, just different approaches.

I had to suppress a smirk. The expression had started to pop up, but I couldn't help it, "Quatre, look at the mirror behind you." A good thing I wasn't prone to laughter, or I'd be sniggering at him obnoxiously.

Quatre turned, and made a noise of mock horror, ogling, "Aigh!" He turned back, pretending to ignore the grossly distorted and fat image on the reflective glass behind him, "I'll never be in that state! Come on, Trowa, you're not *laughing* at me, are you?"

"No, of course not," I put on a straight face.

Quatre snickered, looking at something over my shoulder, "You're not one to talk though. This is a first – a short and stubby Trowa. Never thought I'd see the phenomenon."

I smiled – a genuine smile, "Only here, Quatre."

"You saying these mirrors are reflecting *lies*?" A friendly harmless jab.

The smile widened into a grin, which I knew was uncharacteristic for me, "Yes. How can you trust your eyes? I might really be a fat little crotchety old man."

Quatre shook his head, heading deeper into the mirrored maze, gesturing for me to follow. I turned away, watching the dozens of reflections make its way down the glass corridor. There was some other people in the House of Mirrors, a pair of little children. They were giggling and getting lost, having a hard time telling the real from the false images. Quatre was a few steps ahead of me, smiling as the little boy and girl burst into another peal of laughter as they, trying to find an exit, banging into more mirror barriers.

With no warning, the lights went out.

The little children were silent for an astonished moment, and then one of them started to bawl. There were other surprised sounds from some of the people behind us in the maze, the close quarters echoing with one of the children's panicked cries. Someone, the little girl, I think, was trying to comfort the bawler.

"Sh-h-h, come on, Tomas, stop crying! I'll protect you from the monsters in the dark! Please, Tomas!"

The boy made some loud gulping sounds, whimpered a little. He couldn't have been any younger than four. Understandable to be frightened of the unknown at that age. Something buzzed, and a hidden intercom crackled on. The confused murmurs died down.

"{We apologize for the blackout. We're experiencing some technical difficulties at the moment, and the electrical power to the lights has been accidentally routed away from this structure. Please exit the building – the power will be on shortly. Thank you}" There was a pause, and then a barely audible mutter, obviously to someone else, "{…I can't believe you tripped on a *wire*, dumbass…}"

"Trowa?" Quatre's disembodied voice was some distance away from me.

"I'm over here," I replied. I could sense some other people moving about in the pitch black darkness. I stayed where I was, as I had no wish to lose Quatre and have to go look for him. Something brushed back my waist, and two little youthful whispers. Probably the little boy and girl – looked like the little boy had recovered his courage. I stood, searching the darkness though I knew it was useless. I was more than a little startled when someone's warm hand wrapped around mine, an electric shock rushing at the contact before I could stop it. I already knew who it was before he spoke up.

"It's Quatre," he said, "I think there's a lot of people here. I don't want to be trapped in here any longer then I have to. I take it you are sharing the same sentiments."

"Yes." I swallowed nervously, glad that the Arabian wasn't able to see me in the darkness.

"I think there's a lot of people backtracking through the entrance. If we go that way, we won't be able to leave immediately. The exit seems the most feasible."
"You know where it is?" I asked, staring down at his and my hands.

Quatre was innocently oblivious to my attentions, "I'm not *that* fooled by the mirrors. Besides, when I was walking ahead, I saw it with my own eyes. I can lead us out of here."

He tugged, and I stumbled after him. The darkness was complete, and I couldn't see my nose, much less the blond young man in front of me. I was expecting to be banged into the mirrored sides of the maze, but not once did I even brush the glass walls. Quatre moved through the darkness with ease, never breaking his stride or stopping in confusion. I had no idea which way we were going. Left, left, straight, right…I be sure we'd take another turn, and Quatre would choose a completely opposite direction than I'd expected. I had thought I had a good sense of direction, but I was thoroughly lost. This House of Mirrors was certainly far bigger than I had originally thought it was.

"We're almost there," Quatre's voice drifted back to me as I walked after him. I became aware that I could start to make out the outline of Quatre's head. The darkness was gradually giving way to the light, which no doubt had to be coming from the outside. I was considerably startled to find that only a few minutes had passed; it had seemed that I had been wandering blind for far longer. I half-closed my eyes as I staggered into the afternoon sun, the light blazing.

"Whew." Quatre's voice, cheerful, "Finally! It's a good thing we're not claustrophobic!"

"We"? What happened to "I"?

I opened my eyes, slightly disappointed to find that I was no longer holding the Arabian's hand. We were standing in an open field, the backs of the temporary carnival buildings behind us incomplete walls. The sun was gleaming through the thinning branches of a cluster of stunted oaks. Just a few feet beyond where we stood, the wild grass was rustling, a deep brown that signaled the coming of winter. The sounds of the carnival were partially muted by the buildings and the trees.

"Trowa, what did you feel in there, when the lights went off?" Quatre's back been turned during this time, and now he faced me. I searched his eyes for any hidden meanings. It was an innocent question – he was genuinely curious. Strange thing to ask though.

Nothing…worried…amused…I don't really know…

"I was just surprised," I said.

"It was a good thing that it wasn't a ride or anything. Someone could have gotten hurt, even if it was only an accident," naturally Quatre was worried about things not concerning himself.

I hadn't thought of the other's safety. Only made observations.

He folded his arms across his chest, nodding at my answer, "Could you make me a promise, Trowa? Promise me that whatever the future holds, you won't forget that you have a family and friends. Just remember that we all have our faults, and be patient with us for having them."

Rather a sudden question to ask out of the blue, but I promised him anyways.

Quatre's face suddenly turned serious, and he stared at me. I almost fidgeted under his gaze, but somehow managed to keep a straight face. His slender face took on an unreadable expression, and he sighed. Was there something wrong? I stood where I was, unsure as to how I should act. The battlefield was one thing; I was bewildered at the confusing range of emotions assaulting me at the moment.

"…are we friends, Trowa? I mean, true friends? Not just acquaintances?," Quatre took a step closer, and a flush involuntarily rose to my face. I'd been close to Quatre before, but…something was different about his actions right now. They seemed to be more serious, "Please tell me what you really think."

"…I believe we're friends, Quatre," I answered. There was certainly truth in that, but I was so confused…

"I…see," Quatre brought his fingers to his chin, thinking. I watched him, wondering what was so eating his mind. His face suddenly broke out into that smile. He touched a long finger to his mouth, stepping forward, and poked me in the chest, over my heart, "Tsuba tsukete."

I had trouble finding words, and I asked dumbly, "What was that?"

Quatre's face blushed a shade of red, turning away again, "Just something that was better expressed that way."

"What does it mean?"

A secretive smile, as pure as always, "Nothing. We should try to get back to the carnival, Trowa."

I dropped the subject, as it was clear that Quatre wasn't going to explain to me what was the meaning of what he just did. No amount of prodding or questioning would have gotten him to reveal anything anyway. It would have been useless to try. Whatever it was, Quatre seemed to have a burden off his shoulders.

But I was sure that what he had done had meant a lot to him.

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AC 199, January 13
Erich, Hacienda Inn

I woke up abruptly. [A dream…?] No, something that had been far more vivid; something that had actually happened. I cradled my head in one hand, sitting up in the gray darkness of the room. I had the feeling that I was breaking some sort of promise, but I couldn't for the life of me remember what it was. I couldn't even recall what the dream was about, except that it had struck a chord in me; I was shaking slightly where I sat.

[Get a grip on yourself] I reprimanded. The trembling gradually ceased, until I was sitting stock-still, sweating slightly. I closed my eyes. What a wreck. If Quatre saw the state I was in now, I was sure he'd give up on me on the spot. But then again, Quatre had always been so patient…

I glanced sideways, at the dinky little nightstand next to the bed. A small digital alarm clock was attached permanently to the furniture, no doubt to prevent thieves from stealing it. The numbers were blurry, in the surreal darkness, but I could still make the digits out. Almost three in the morning.

Christ.

I flopped back down on the bed, the springs squeaking in protest. The fan was still pushing the stale air around, and I could still hear some activity outside in the streets below. Far too early for this kind of thing. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was betraying someone's trust.

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Erich, Yuki-Wong

I stood at the end of the upstairs hall, waiting. Hiroshi had shown me in, recognizing my face, but, through pantomiming, had explained that at the moment Paul was occupied by a customer. I was to wait outside until the business was finished. As soon as I was settled in to wait, Hiroshi had vanished down the stairs, the bouncer glancing at her and gesturing for her to hurry up. I watched several men enter and leave through the other doors, heard female voices rise in false cheerfulness. I didn't see the door open until I heard the man's voice muttering.

"Damn that Mayumi. O…only-y one that still plays ha-a-rd to get," he mumbled, shuffling past me. He reeked of liquor, and I had no doubt that he was dead drunk. He tried to fix a blurry glare at me, and nearly pitched onto his back. I stepped past him, and into Paul's room, my expression mild.

He was toweling himself down with a worn rag, still panting. He nodded a greeting to me, crossing the room to toss the cloth onto the floor for someone to pick up. The red haired boy avoided the bed, skirting it as one would the diseased. I ignored the fact that he was at the moment naked, focusing my attention elsewhere as he tiredly pulled on the flimsy clothing he had been wearing the day before. He held no attraction for me.

"I didn't seriously think you'd come back," Paul said. He seated himself on the floor near the barred window, cross-legged, adjusted the only thing that he had never removed, a pure white silk choker, facing me. He was still somewhat out of breath, "There's not much more I can tell you…?" He suddenly realized something, "I don't even know your name."

"Nanashi."

"No name, huh?" A careless shrug, "A name's a name, even if it's nothing. What do you want now?"

"Feldenheimer. You mentioned earlier that you might have a clue where he is," I answered.

Paul shot me an odd look, "You're not some sort of bounty hunter, are you? My friend's innocent."

My ass he was.

"I'm…just looking for him," I lied. Certainly wasn't the first time, and this boy was willing to believe in anything. He'd hadn't given up yet, and snatched at any glimmers of hope. Gullible. The lie came easily to my lips, "Some relatives are looking for him. I was merely hired to locate him."

And kill him. The heartless bastard.

"Oh. I apologize then. You seemed for a moment like you were out for his life or something."

"I wasn't hired for that task."

"Whew," Paul sighed, obviously relieved.

I waited expectantly. He raked a hand through his thick red bangs, probably an old habit.

"My room's facing the street. Whenever I have free time, I watch the street. It's the closest thing to actually being out there, watching other people go about freely doing what they want," Paul glanced wistfully toward the direction of the window, "I used to notice that he always came in from the east – that's near the old space-docks."

"Closed three months ago?"

"Yes. You heard of the big fiasco about it?," I answered him with a curt nod, "The very same. I heard that there was some illegal space traffic down there, ships leaving the Colony without authorization from the core. That's probably why it was closed in the first place."

I felt myself grow cold. He could be long gone by now.

"Mr. Duval said he had some things to do before he would return to Earth," Paul mused, "The last day I saw him, he said something kind of cryptic – that he needed to pick up a navigator chip and then he'd return to where he belonged."

I caught on, "Navigator chips are only used for some of the older shuttle models. So he's hiding out at the old space-dock."

"That's what I suspect, at least. I don't think he left yet – navigator chips aren't really products that Erich mass-produces. It's hard to come by things like that," Paul said, thinking, "You could *try* to find him at the docks, but you never know…he could be gone already. That's all I can tell you, Nanashi."

I straightened my back. That was all I needed to know.

"Thank you for your help," a bland smile, "I'm sure my employers will appreciate your involvement."

I certainly would. Too bad for Feldenheimer.

"Sure, no problem," Paul suddenly grinned as I started to leave, "Look, when you find Mr. Duval, could you tell him that I said 'good luck'? He's the first person here to treat me as a human being, so I want to wish him a pleasant journey home."

"I will."

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AC 199, January 15
Pavilion Sector, Erich

I decided that I needed to take a walk along the street, in order to sort things out. I couldn't believe my luck; Feldenheimer was still probably here. I knew enough about the Colony's districts to know that Erich specialized in only in the smelting of certain metals, not in producing electronics. Looking at the pitiful state of the district, my doubts concerning the man's whereabouts were diminishing.

I sat down on a bench, watching the people and cars passing by with hooded eyes. I was doing the right thing, wasn't I? This man had killed Quatre, and in a logical view, it seemed perfectly reasonable to do the same to him. [Quatre…God, please don't let me forget him] For a brief moment, the grief rose up in my throat. My eyes, which had been dry since I had gotten here, started to mist over. I was considerably surprised, as earlier I had been able to think of Quatre without much of a reaction. I blinked away the tears [Now that it seems my search is almost over, I suddenly have too much time to *think*. Oh God…]

\Could you make me a promise, Trowa? Promise me that whatever the future holds, you won't forget that you have a family and friends. Just remember that we all have our faults, and be patient with us for having them\

I bowed my head, swallowing. I remembered that I had made that promise to Quatre; I had broken it, ignoring those that had tried to help me the days before. I suddenly wondered where Catherine was – I had left without saying where I would be going. I had forgotten about her, and for a moment felt a pang of shame. It quickly passed. Indeed, I had betrayed Quatre's trust in me…I felt awful, my insides turning themselves at my repulsive behavior.

Yet, did I also feel a small feeling of anger, not directed at me, but at Quatre himself? He had been so infuriating at times, so innocent and pure. [Innocent? He's no more innocent than I am!] He was, however, the kindest of all of us Gundam pilots, the trait that made the big difference. He had known duty, when death was appropriate. Was I...even jealous, in a sense? Maybe. But still, I knew I loved him, for being everything I was not, for being himself. His perfect, flawless self.

"Turns out I lied," I smiled frostily to myself.

To be continued...
>>>>>>
Well, only one or two more chapters to go! Trowa/Nanashi's search has been too easy, that's what I think ~_~; That's the most unrealistic part of this fanfiction - everything happens way too fast. Maybe the reader will assume that Trowa/Nanashi is searching in the days in-between the parts I've written? I can only hope. :P Aigh, and each chapter's getting shorter and shorter! My first chapter was nine pages - this ones about 7 or six! *burble*
In actuality, Alpha Target has almost nothing to do with the other Targets I wanna write - it just sets the scene. Anyone think I should put in a prologue, as Alpha Target is the first of the series? Not sure if I wanna put an epilogue for it tho. As the end of Alpha Target is drawing close, I've decided I'm going to be starting Beta Target (Wufei and Sally Po, third person) soon, and start the story of the Rembrandt virus (I don't think I mentioned this before, but the character Paul's fiancee was working in the first contaminated Colony, and was one of the victims of it - sadly, Paul never received word, and so still thinks she's alive. ;_;) On another note, in this chapter, Quatre says something in Japanese, because he knows that Trowa has no idea what he's saying (no, he never learned the language, but he did pick up that certain phrase from a friend. The phrase ''Tsuba tsukete" pretty much means ''spit attached'' (I think - don't have that little Japanese book on me ~_~), which means a person claims "dibs" on the other. Sorry, I felt I had to get a little romantic. ^_^; Maybe he picked it up from Heero };P

- Famira Damaris