This is a Gundam Wing fanfiction.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head
Warning: Angst. Thinking. Sap is a possibility. Shonen-ai? Up to you. Depending on your tastes, there's even a bit of humor.
Author: Kasey
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.
Status: Complete, self-edited.
Explainations: I do not believe in Brecht. Therefore, anything I deem necessary to explain will be taken care of in an addition at the end of the story, but not footnoted in the text.
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This is dedicated to Apache--Warrior Princess, Queen of the Downstairs, Moose, Boxcar Willy, Tribble "the Kitten", Occy, Puss, Chang, Jemimah, Yang, Fluffy, Oreo, Tiger, Blackie, Casper, Smokey, Catlin, and Caltrop, the cats in my life.
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"The Play of Life"
-Act II, scene 1-
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Lights
---
In the kitchen, Treize placed his palms on a counter and leaned heavily on his arms, berating himself for an idiot. He knew his comment would sting Wufei! And he had thrown it out, in spite. He was no better than those he opposed in the war. Damn them. Damn himself. Damn. Wufei could have been further injured, and Treize was going to blame himself.
Shaking with suppressed anger, Treize found a can of chicken noodle soup and began heating it up. On a sudden inspiration, he walked back to the bathroom, and returned with a bottle of pills. He found a fresh glass and filled it with cold juice from the refrigerator. He left the soup heating slowly on the stove, and took the juice and pill bottle into the main room.
---
Wufei looked up as Treize walked in. He took note at the two changes: one pill bottle, one glass of red liquid. Great.
Treize smiled disarmingly, and Wufei's mouth thinned into a tight line. There was no way Treize was getting any medication past his lips!
"This is basic ibuprofen, Chang Wufei. It will ease the pain," Treize said, setting the glass down in order to open the pill bottle. "Do you mind cranberry juice? It's either that, or milk, or water. Tea takes too long."
"I don't need any...medicine," Wufei snarled.
Treize raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. I think you should at least give it a chance. That leg must hurt." He closed the bottle of pills and put it down. He took up the glass of juice.
Wufei practically growled. He could take more pain than that! "I'm not taking any medication."
Treize walked over and kneeled next to the couch. "Please take it."
"No!"
Instead of replying, Treize reached up quickly, and before Wufei could react, he had pushed the pill between Wufei's lips. The dry pill stuck to the moist part of his lips, just inside his mouth.
Wufei's eyes widened in surprise, and he tried to blow the pill out of his mouth, but it stayed. Sighing and accepting defeat, he reached for the glass of juice with his right hand. Treize kept his expression steady, and handed him the glass.
Wufei swallowed the pill, and took a few more sips of cranberry juice.
"That's a trick my grandmother used on me," Treize said, to break the silence. "I broke my hip when I was four."
Wufei glanced at Treize through the corner of his eyes, and automatically conjured a vision of a young Treize, sputtering as he was outwitted by an old woman. He sniffed a light laugh, and the corners of his mouth turned up.
Treize smiled as well. Then he stood, picked up the pill bottle, and returned to the kitchen. The soup would be nearly done, by now.
---
The soup was just beginning to boil when Treize walked into the kitchen. Letting it cook just a few moments longer, he reached into a cupboard and removed two mugs. Then he ladled the steaming soup evenly into the mugs, and set the empty pot in the sink. He could bother with dirty dishes later.
Feeling more relaxed, he picked up the mugs and elbowed the kitchen door back open.
---
Somehow, Wufei had maneuvered himself into a sitting position, still wrapped in the blanket Treize had given him. His face was tight; evidently, the adjustment had hurt, and it would be about ten or so minutes until the ibuprofen kicked in.
Treize frowned. Wufei should keep his leg elevated. Wufei didn't notice the General's distracted look as he was handed the hot mug of soup. Wufei took the mug. Treize set his down, and looked around until his eyes settled on the chair he had placed by the couch.
"Brace yourself, please," he said, kneeling down. Wufei looked at him quizzically, an expression which quickly turned to fierce concentration as he saw Treize's hands reaching for his leg.
Treize disentangled the blanket from around Wufei's legs. Then he lifted the injured leg gently, noting with dismay that a thin line of dark red was showing through the bandages. Cradling Wufei's calf in one arm, he reached for the chair, and brought it over.
Carefully, Treize lowered Wufei's leg so that it rested comfortably on the padded seat of the chair. Treize let out a sigh of relief, no matter whether or not Wufei saw it. He looked up.
Wufei's hands were white, clutching the mug of soup. His face was a similar color, and he shook violently. Even in the black depths of his eyes, Treize could see how dilated the pilot's pupils were. He reached a hand out to touch Wufei's shoulder.
Wufei's shoulder twitched at the touch, but he started breathing more clearly, to Treize's eyes. Then he blinked, and unclenched his jaw.
"I'm sorry," Treize said, and Wufei's eyes focused on him. Treize opened his mouth again, and found the breath to speak. "I...Your leg must be elevated, Chang Wufei." He moved away, and picked up his mug of soup.
There was a minute of silence.
"General..."
Treize looked up from staring at his cup of soup.
"Yes?"
"My leg... How bad...?"
Treize pressed his lips tightly together. He looked down at the floor, at the discarded piece of shrapnel. Wufei looked at his face and followed his gaze back to the floor. There, he saw a large, bloody piece of jagged metal. That...had been...in his leg?
"I think it cut all the way to the bone, Chang Wufei," Treize said. Wufei's face had no expression. What could he be thinking, right now? "You lost a lot of blood."
"I feel fine."
"Hopefully the ibuprofen will help with the headache."
"I have no headache."
"Chang Wufei..."
"Wufei. Just call me Wufei."
Treize raised an eyebrow. "If we are being informal, you must call me Treize."
Wufei snorted. "Fine. Treize." His name was twisted and spat out, but it was better than being called General all the time.
"Wufei, then. Wufei, what happened?"
"What do you mean, Treize?" Wufei leered at the name, over-pronouncing it and stretching the syllable.
Treize sighed. "I mean, you show up at my cabin at two AM from a battle that ended around seven PM last night, torn to shreds by shrapnel. Which, if I might add, hit only the left side of your body. Judging by the size of that-" he indicated the large piece of metal on the floor, "-I'd say the explosion was rather large. I'd have heard it, if it were nearby."
Wufei bit his lip. Treize kept watching him.
"It was...a mission. To destroy an armaments factory," he finally said, quietly. "I...failed."
Treize raised an eyebrow.
Wufei continued, glaring into Treize's eyes, challenging him to make a comment. "The new mobile dolls were there, and complete. They're all over Earth." This made Treize start, slightly, in surprise. Romefeller had told him that it would be weeks until the new mobile dolls were complete, much less sent to Earth.
Wufei choked out a small, sarcastic laugh, at himself and at Treize's expression. "Maybe I didn't fail...," he muttered. "They chased me into the middle of the factory. They were...set...to track Na--my Gundam. So I...left it, there." Treize frowned. Wufei was starting to shake in outrage. "I left my Gundam, and I got out of there. I...ran..."
Treize sat back. So that was Wufei's problem. He had run away from a battle. And worse, from a battle against cold, lifeless machines.
"And they destroyed your Gundam?" Treize asked quietly. He saw Wufei's eyes refocus on him. As long as Wufei's pupils had concentrated on his own, they had broken away from reality and he had been staring at an invisible wall between them.
Wufei straightened slightly, regaining his composure. "I don't know. All I remember was the explosion. The dolls took care of the factory, for me. Then there was the shrapnel, and...running."
Treize leaned forward. "You...ran? On that leg?"
"What else was I going to do?" Wufei spat.
"But...how did you get here?"
"I ran."
Treize was silent for a moment. "Wufei...which factory were you attacking?"
Wufei responded immediately. "The Baja Taurus factory."
"But that's..." Treize paused, running figures through his head. "That's over fifty miles away."
"Yes." Wufei was unfazed.
"Why did you run all the way here?"
Wufei curled his lip. "Think about it." Treize thought. Wufei had known he needed medical attention. If he had stayed in the area of the explosion, an ambulance would have picked him up. He would have been healed. Then, he would have had to answer as to why a boy was on the factory site after closing hours, and what he had to do with the blast. Not to mention that fragments of gundanium would be found amidst the ruins, and everyone knew that the Gundam pilots were young boys... Of course he would have to leave the area, and in desperation, the first place he may have thought of would have been the cabin. Treize nodded. Wufei sniffed, and took a sip of his soup.
Treize looked down at his untouched mug of soup. A sound made him look up.
Wufei fought it, but he yawned widely, his shoulders shaking in exhaustion. Treize smiled a bit. Now that the edge had worn off of Wufei's pain, he should sleep.
"Wufei..."
Wufei blinked, trying to keep himself awake. "Yes?"
"You should get some rest."
"I'm fine."
"I believe you. But you've had a hard night, and it would be good to relax your body."
"Do you have a radio?"
"Excuse me?"
"I need to radio...the other pilots." Treize frowned a little.
"Well, yes, I do..." He looked outside at the rain. "I don't know how it will work, though. It's old." He looked at Wufei, and stood up. "Just a minute."
"Thank you," he heard Wufei mumble as he left the main room.
Treize returned a few minutes later with a small radio. He left the radio with Wufei, and went to his room. Even through the walls of the cabin and the rain outside, he could hear the static that the old radio emitted, proving his doubts that it would be able to cut through the storm.
Treize quietly made his bed, smoothing out the sheets and pulling up the blankets until it was comfortable again. He fluffed the pillows. Finally, he moved on to a closet and pulled out some extra pillows. He set them next to the bed. Then he sat down.
A few minutes after he was done, he heard the static stop. He waited. Eight minutes later, the static began again. Another five minutes, and it stopped again. He decided Wufei would be done, by now. He stood, and left the bedroom.
---
Treize poked his head around the frame of the kitchen door, to see Wufei staring miserably at the radio. "Excuse me..." Wufei looked up. "Did you get through?"
Wufei wrinkled his nose. "No. I tried twice."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't bother."
"Wufei..." Wufei blinked at Treize, and he went on. "Would you be willing to rest, and perhaps sleep? I would feel better if you healed up a bit more before you left."
"Sure," Wufei said dejectedly. Immediately, he started to lie down on the couch, wincing as he tried to move his leg back from the chair to the couch.
"No!" Treize exclaimed. Wufei's head shot up in surprise. "You...please, sleep in my room," Treize said. "The bed is much more comfortable than the couch."
Wufei opened his mouth to refuse, but closed it again, and nodded. The bed really was more comfortable than the couch, and warmer, too. And he was tired. But getting through the kitchen and the bathroom into the back of the cabin would be painful.
"How am I supposed to get there?" Wufei asked quietly.
Treize ran his eyes over Wufei for a moment, then stepped forward. Wufei tried to back into the couch.
"No way! You're not..." He sputtered as Treize ran an arm behind his back. Treize pulled him up gently, so that Wufei was standing on his right leg.
"I think that if you tried hopping to the bedroom, you would break another rib," Treize said reasonably. Wufei nodded and, beet red, he reached his arms up to hold onto Treize's neck and shoulders. Treize leaned down and gently picked Wufei up so that the pilot's thighs rested against his forearm. This way, he would not pressure his injured leg.
Wufei shook with the small jolt of pain that being lifted had brought on. Treize readjusted the blankets around him carefully, then started to walk towards the door. With Wufei's help, he walked through the kitchen. When they got to the bathroom, Wufei coughed.
Treize blinked at the pilot. "Wufei...I forgot. Do you need to--" Wufei nodded quickly, and Treize carefully set him down on one leg. Wufei glanced at the floor, embarrassed, then fairly pushed Treize out of the bathroom. Treize laughed quietly as he stumbled into the bedroom. After a minute, the bathroom door opened again, and Wufei maneuvered himself into the doorway, leaning on the frame.
Treize hurried back over, and picked Wufei up again. He carried the young pilot the short distance to the bed, and gently laid him down.
Wufei cringed as his left foot touched down on the mattress. Almost before he knew it, Treize had snapped up the spare pillows from the floor, and Wufei's injured leg had been comfortably elevated. Then Treize pulled the blankets up in order to tuck them around Wufei.
Soon, Wufei felt more comfortable than he ever had during the war. He yawned again, and smiling unconsciously, he nestled into the soft pillows. Treize smiled. Wonderful. Sleep would help the young pilot heal. Within moments, Wufei's breathing was slow and even, and Treize turned out the light. A thought struck him, and he hung a thick blanket over the curtain rod, blocking the rising sun from shining into the room.
---
Treize returned to the main room. The sun coming up over the mountains was incredibly bright. Why did this seem so strange? Oh, of course. It had stopped raining. There were birds outside, heralding the dawn.
Treize leaned down and picked up the piece of shrapnel that had been stuck in Wufei's leg. The blood had dried on it, giving it a rusty, dark look. He shuddered again, wondering if Wufei's leg could possibly heal properly. He placed the metal on one of the bloody towels he had used initially to stop Wufei's bleeding. Then he found the piece that he had pulled from above Wufei's ear, and placed it on the towel.
Almost silently, Treize wrapped the towel around the bits of shrapnel. Then he walked stiffly into the kitchen, and dropped the bundle into a trash bag, towel and all. He went back to the main room.
The rest of the clean-up was simple: putting the remaining towels where they could be washed, returning all of the unused bandages to the green kit and the kit to the bathroom, and putting the bowl and kettle back in the kitchen. Some blood had gotten on the couch where Wufei had been lying, and other spots dotted the floor. Treize mopped up what he could from the couch before finding some cleaner to stop the stain. He didn't bother with the floor.
Satisfied that he had done everything he could in the main room, Treize picked up Wufei's empty mug, and his own untouched cup of cold soup, and took them to the kitchen.
Mugs. Bowl. Soup pot. Treize washed all of the dishes. And dried them. And put them away. Then he puttered around the kitchen, trying to find more meaningless tasks to keep him busy until Wufei woke up. He was tired, and he wanted to sleep, but his feeling of responsibility towards Wufei kept him awake.
He was just giving in to the inevitable, and had turned towards the couch that would work just fine in replacement of his own, comfortable bed, when a cry from the bedroom startled him. Treize jumped, spun around, and ran through the kitchen and the bathroom.
---
Blackout
---
"The Play of Life"
-Act II, scene 2-
---
Lights
---
Wufei had moved in his sleep. He had rolled over, and in doing so, moved his injured leg off the pillows that it rested on. Treize flipped on the light in the bedroom and could see it at once. He leaped forward and pulled back the covers of the bed. The thin line of red that had shown through the bandages earlier had spread, and as Wufei thrashed about in pain, Treize ran his fingers along the bandage. It was wet to the touch.
"Quiet, Wufei. Please," he whispered. "Don't think about it. Just don't move." Wufei choked out a strangling sound, shuddered, and took a deep breath. "Good," Treize continued. "Concentrate on me. Talk to me."
Treize thought quickly. What subject would the pilot be most likely to talk freely about? He blurted out, "Do you have a girlfriend? Someone who is waiting for you to come back from the war?" As he talked, he jumped into the bathroom and retrieved the medical kit he had just put away.
"I...No," Wufei said. Treize could hear a catch.
"No one? Family, even? Perhaps a cousin." He reentered the room, and immediately flipped the field kit open to pull out more bandages and salves. Oh, he wished he could stitch Wufei's leg up. That would help the process, but he didn't want to hurt him further with his lack of expertice.
"No one," Wufei breathed. He was desperately trying to concentrate on their conversation. "They're all...huhh! They're dead," he finished, as another flash of pain hit him. Treize arranged the supplies on the bed. Then he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a small pocket knife.
"Whatever you do, now, Wufei," he said, "Do not move. Did you...have a girlfriend...perhaps, a young love?" He flipped the blade open, and placed the tip at the top of the bandage on Wufei's leg.
"No! Just...my wife," Wufei breathed. Meiran. That's right. Think about Meiran.
Treize started to pull the sharp blade down, across the bandages, but away from the actual wound. He sliced through the tape and gauze easily, but was careful not to even touch Wufei's skin.
"Your wife?"
"She's...she's dead. An...OZ attack." Wufei spat out the words, but still did not move.
"An OZ attack on L5?" Treize asked. He pulled the bandages free, not caring about the blood that spattered on the sheets. Blood had clotted around most of the wound, but one deep section was still flowing.
"Ye-yes," Wufei said. "She went...to fight OZ. To save our people..." Treize wiped up some of the excess blood with gauze. Then he sprayed a disinfectant over the wound again, and then more salve. "She...took a mobile suit. It was a...prototype."
"Like the Gundams?" Treize asked. He started to wind gauze around Wufei's leg.
"Sort of. D...Doctor O made that one...first. Then he made...mine." Wufei cried out as Treize lifted his leg to wind the bandage around it.
"He designed two Gundams?" He fastened the gauze, and cut the extra off.
"Yes. Meiran...took the first one."
"Meiran?" Treize reached for the medical tape.
"My wife."
"That's a beautiful name. Tell me what she looked like." He started to wrap the medical tape around Wufei's leg. He wound it firmly, but not so tight as to cut off the pilot's circulation. Wufei whimpered and shook, but did not move his legs.
"She...was shorter than me," Wufei gasped. "Her hair...long, and black..."
"What did she like to do?" Carefully, carefully...
Wufei coughed, and Treize realized it was actually a laugh. "She liked to fight. She...challenged me, a lot."
"And you?" There, the tape should hold him together for a little longer, this time, Treize thought.
"I read. A lot," Wufei said.
Treize lifted Wufei's leg back onto the stack of pillows. "Not a fighter?"
Wufei sighed. :Not then." Treize also sighed. His task was done. He started to pick up the remaining materials.
"And then she...Meiran...died."
Wufei's breathing evened out. "Yes." Treize dumped the bandages and salves into the medical box, and shut it.
"You loved her." Wufei closed his eyes. Treize lifted an eyebrow. "Wufei?"
"I don't know," he mumbled. "I never knew."
Treize pulled the blankets back up over Wufei, and tucked them in again. "Wufei?"
The pilot made a guttural noise that indicated he was listening.
"Would you like another motrin?" Wufei opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
"Yes. Thank you." Treize looked at the young pilot sadly, and went to get the medication. When he returned, Wufei had not moved at all.
"Here," the General said. Wufei accepted the pill and small glass of water silently. "I'm sorry that I asked about--"
"Don't bother," Wufei said, placing the pill on his tongue. He took a long drink of water and swallowed. After a moment, he looked at Treize again. "Thank you."
Treize blinked. Of course, for the bandages. "You are quite welcome."
"Treize..."
"Yes, Wufei?"
"Could you uncover the window?"
"Of course," Treize said, walking over and pulling the heavy blanket away. Bright sunlight flooded the room, and they both blinked away the sudden spots in front of their eyes. "Would you like to get up, now?"
"Um, no," Wufei said, knitting his brows. "I'll...go back to sleep."
"Carefully."
"Hmm. I won't move, this time."
"Very well." Treize moved back to the door. "Sleep well."
"Mm..." Asleep already. Treize almost smiled. There was nothing else to do... He picked up a book lying on the bedside table, and quietly pulled a small stool over to sit on. He opened the book to a thin, yellowing bookmark, and made himself comfortable to read. From here, he could look up at any time and see the young pilot. Sighing, he began to read.
---
Wufei yawned. He was well rested enough that opening his eyes into the bright light of the room did not hurt. He hadn't moved any since Treize had repositioned him, last. He knew better than to try to sit up, so he stretched his neck and looked from side to side.
Wufei almost laughed out loud. Treize had moved to lie down on the floor and read, but had finally fallen asleep. His thumb was still stuck between the pages where he had been reading, but otherwise he had sprawled himself across the floor and generally looked very funny.
Wufei shifted slightly, to ease a slight sympathy pain in his back that had come from looking at the odd position the General had chosen to sleep in. General. Treize. Wufei frowned thoughtfully as he contemplated the man on the floor.
General Treize Kushrenada was a hard man, devious, scheming, full of ideas and always with a ready answer that could manipulate anyone into doing as he wished. Yet Wufei could not connect that official with the man who had taken care of him this past day.
Treize was caring and gentle, intelligent, and forgiving. He made mistakes, apologized, and was more... friendly, Wufei decided. He was friendly. Moreso, Wufei realized that he actually respected the man for the space, privacy, and care he had given to him. He smiled slightly.
"Hmph." From the floor, Treize rolled over, back over, and stretched. He blinked his eyes open, grimacing, and glared at the ceiling. "Nngrr...."
"Hello," Wufei said, from the bed.
"Hm?" Treize stood up and looked around. "Oh, Wufei. Excuse me."
"No problem," Wufei said. "Did you sleep well?"
Treize tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow at the change in Wufei's tone from earlier that morning. "Quite well, actually, considering that's a wooden floor." He laughed, deep in his throat. "I knew I should have gotten throw rugs."
"Treize?" The taller man stretched again before looking down on himself and realizing he had never gotten dressed.
"Yes?" He asked, striding over to a small dresser to remove a pair of pants.
"Could I try to radio the other pilots again?" Treize looked outside. It was still sunny, so the interference would be gone.
"Of course. I'll get it in just a minute, unless you'd like to go back out to the living room?"
"Um. I'll stay here."
"Ah. Give me a minute," Treize said, clutching the pants and walking quickly towards the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later with the radio, wearing his pants. "Here. Good luck." He helped Wufei sit up slightly, and moved the pillows around his leg, accordingly. Wufei's leg still hurt, but he was less inclined to cry out.
"Thank you," Wufei said quietly as Treize left and closed the door. Wufei blinked at the door for a moment before smiling and switching the radio on. He didn't have to worry about Treize listening to his conversation with the other pilots--Treize's honor would not let him do something so low.
The radio buzzed for a few minutes while Wufei readjusted the knobs and the antenna. All at once, the buzzing calmed on a clearer radio wave.
Wufei pressed a button on the small microphone. "This is pilot 05, Nataku," he said. "Is there anyone there to hear me? Pilot 05, Nataku." He released the button and waited a minute before repeating his message. The second time, he got a response.
"Nataku?--ey, man! Where are--are you? We've been l--king all ov--er--or you," came the staticy reply. "--Ow'd the mis--go?" There was a click before the soft hum of the radio came back. Wufei pressed the mike button again.
"Mission...failed," he said. "I've got injuries, and I need someone to come get me."
"Fai--man, that's--ough luck, Na--ku. Can you g--us a rough est--are?"
"Repeat that?"
"Where--you?"
"About fifty miles northwest of the mission site. I'm in a forest, small clearing."
"One mo--ime, buddy."
"About fifty miles. North. West. From the mission site. Small clearing, in a forest."
"Okay. Got it--will be sometime--night, we're a li--usy, you know, but--get to you as soon--possible, Nataku."
"Thank you."
"--ey! No probl--an! Take care of--self, okay?"
"Yes. Nataku, signing out."
"La--man. Deathsy--ing out." Wufei sighed and turned the radio off. Tonight. He glanced at the bedside clock. Half-past noon.
About fifteen minutes later, Treize returned with a plate of small sandwiches, and some cups. He poked his head through the door before walking in. He smiled brightly.
"Ah, you got through?"
"Yes."
"Lunch?"
"Yes, please. Thank you."
"My pleasure," Treize said, placing the sandwiches on the bedside table. He helped Wufei adjust some more to make eating more comfortable. "Then...the other pilots will come to pick you up?"
"Sometime tonight," Wufei said, accepting a cup from Treize. It was hot tea. He sniffed the aroma and sighed. Very nice.
"Good," Treize said. "Do you need to signal them?"
Wufei thought for a moment. "No. Probably not. But...could I sit outside?"
Treize smiled at him and took a sip of tea. "Yes, I think we can arrange that."
"Treize..."
"Yes?" Wufei looked down at a sandwich he had picked up. He looked back into Treize's eyes. They looked sad.
"Thank you." Treize smiled. It was a sad smile.
"Thank you, Wufei." Wufei frowned thoughtfully at him for a moment. Then he returned to his food. They let the silence stretch between them for a while as they finished their lunch.
When they finished, Treize removed the plate and empty cups. He set them in the kitchen absentmindedly, wondering how to entertain Wufei for the rest of the day.
"Wufei?"
The young pilot had taken to staring out the window at the trees outside the cabin. "Yes?"
"I know being injured is...frustrating. Perhaps you like to play chess?"
Wufei favored Treize with an amused smile. "I don't know how." Treize looked slightly taken aback at this statement.
"I thought everyone...Penté?"
"No."
"Mancala?"
"Hm-mm."
"Go-Mo-Ku?"
Wufei raised an eyebrow. "I know that one."
Treize grinned. "Wonderful. Could you teach me?" Wufei laughed.
"I can. It's very easy, like your game...um...Tic Tac Toe?"
"Ah, yes!"
"Do you have a game board?"
Treize nodded, and turned to his dresser drawers. The bottom drawer was full of books and old boxes of games. Treize pulled out a worn cloth and a bag of playing stones.
"I played when I was very young," Treize said. "Unfortunately, I've forgotten how." He laid the cloth out on the bedside table, which was easily within Wufei's reach. Now Wufei could see that a Go-Mo-Ku board had been stained into the cloth. Treize dumped the playing stones out. They were red and blue glass drops. Wufei chose the red.
"Red?"
"It's customary. You go first."
"How should I start?"
"See the intersections of the squares? The idea is to take four intersections in a row." Wufei pointed and set pieces to example his explanation. "Horizontal, or diagonal, any way works."
"Mm. I see. So I place the first piece?"
"Yes. But you must call the coordinates," Wufei said. "And when you get four in a row, you must call 'Go-Mo-Ku.' That's how you win."
"Ah. Well, then...five, five." Treize set a blue stone in the direct center of the board.
"Six, six," Wufei said, placing a red stone.
"Six, five."
"Hm. Seven, five."
"Ah. Five, seven."
"Hm? Five, six."
"...Four, six."
"...Oh!" Wufei blinked in surprise. "You win!"
"But I haven't made four in a row, yet..."
"But anything I do..."
"I can still win."
"Yes."
"Very well, then. Go-Mo-Ku." Treize paused. "This is very much like Penté."
"How so?"
"Let me show you." Treize returned to the dresser drawer and pulled out a slightly larger piece of cloth, somewhat less worn. He unrolled it to show Wufei. The board was exactly like the Go-Mo-Ku board, except about four times the size.
Treize removed the Go-Mo-Ku board. He set the Penté board on the table and placed pieces on it to mimic their game.
"You see, the object in this game is to get five pieces in a row." Wufei nodded. Treize picked up one of his red stones. "However, in Penté, you can place this here." He set the stone at six, four.
"So?"
"Now, say I laugh at your move. I place a stone at three, five, because that is most advantageous to me."
"How am I supposed to stop you from winning?"
"Like so," Treize said, placing another red piece. Wufei frowned as he looked at the board. "Three, seven."
"What does that do?" Treize smiled secretively, and plucked the blue stones from five, five, and four, six.
"When you surround two of my pieces like that, you can remove them from the board. Now I only have three pieces on the board, and not placed strategically. Do you understand?"
Wufei thought for a moment. "Yes."
"Of course, it works in reverse."
"Hmm."
"Would you like to continue, or start a new game?"
"A new game. You start."
"Ah." Treize cleared the Penté board, handing the red stones back to Wufei. "Ten, ten." Ten, ten was the center of the Penté board.
"Hmm."
---
Blackout
---
---
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head
Warning: Angst. Thinking. Sap is a possibility. Shonen-ai? Up to you. Depending on your tastes, there's even a bit of humor.
Author: Kasey
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.
Status: Complete, self-edited.
Explainations: I do not believe in Brecht. Therefore, anything I deem necessary to explain will be taken care of in an addition at the end of the story, but not footnoted in the text.
---
This is dedicated to Apache--Warrior Princess, Queen of the Downstairs, Moose, Boxcar Willy, Tribble "the Kitten", Occy, Puss, Chang, Jemimah, Yang, Fluffy, Oreo, Tiger, Blackie, Casper, Smokey, Catlin, and Caltrop, the cats in my life.
---
"The Play of Life"
-Act II, scene 1-
---
Lights
---
In the kitchen, Treize placed his palms on a counter and leaned heavily on his arms, berating himself for an idiot. He knew his comment would sting Wufei! And he had thrown it out, in spite. He was no better than those he opposed in the war. Damn them. Damn himself. Damn. Wufei could have been further injured, and Treize was going to blame himself.
Shaking with suppressed anger, Treize found a can of chicken noodle soup and began heating it up. On a sudden inspiration, he walked back to the bathroom, and returned with a bottle of pills. He found a fresh glass and filled it with cold juice from the refrigerator. He left the soup heating slowly on the stove, and took the juice and pill bottle into the main room.
---
Wufei looked up as Treize walked in. He took note at the two changes: one pill bottle, one glass of red liquid. Great.
Treize smiled disarmingly, and Wufei's mouth thinned into a tight line. There was no way Treize was getting any medication past his lips!
"This is basic ibuprofen, Chang Wufei. It will ease the pain," Treize said, setting the glass down in order to open the pill bottle. "Do you mind cranberry juice? It's either that, or milk, or water. Tea takes too long."
"I don't need any...medicine," Wufei snarled.
Treize raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. I think you should at least give it a chance. That leg must hurt." He closed the bottle of pills and put it down. He took up the glass of juice.
Wufei practically growled. He could take more pain than that! "I'm not taking any medication."
Treize walked over and kneeled next to the couch. "Please take it."
"No!"
Instead of replying, Treize reached up quickly, and before Wufei could react, he had pushed the pill between Wufei's lips. The dry pill stuck to the moist part of his lips, just inside his mouth.
Wufei's eyes widened in surprise, and he tried to blow the pill out of his mouth, but it stayed. Sighing and accepting defeat, he reached for the glass of juice with his right hand. Treize kept his expression steady, and handed him the glass.
Wufei swallowed the pill, and took a few more sips of cranberry juice.
"That's a trick my grandmother used on me," Treize said, to break the silence. "I broke my hip when I was four."
Wufei glanced at Treize through the corner of his eyes, and automatically conjured a vision of a young Treize, sputtering as he was outwitted by an old woman. He sniffed a light laugh, and the corners of his mouth turned up.
Treize smiled as well. Then he stood, picked up the pill bottle, and returned to the kitchen. The soup would be nearly done, by now.
---
The soup was just beginning to boil when Treize walked into the kitchen. Letting it cook just a few moments longer, he reached into a cupboard and removed two mugs. Then he ladled the steaming soup evenly into the mugs, and set the empty pot in the sink. He could bother with dirty dishes later.
Feeling more relaxed, he picked up the mugs and elbowed the kitchen door back open.
---
Somehow, Wufei had maneuvered himself into a sitting position, still wrapped in the blanket Treize had given him. His face was tight; evidently, the adjustment had hurt, and it would be about ten or so minutes until the ibuprofen kicked in.
Treize frowned. Wufei should keep his leg elevated. Wufei didn't notice the General's distracted look as he was handed the hot mug of soup. Wufei took the mug. Treize set his down, and looked around until his eyes settled on the chair he had placed by the couch.
"Brace yourself, please," he said, kneeling down. Wufei looked at him quizzically, an expression which quickly turned to fierce concentration as he saw Treize's hands reaching for his leg.
Treize disentangled the blanket from around Wufei's legs. Then he lifted the injured leg gently, noting with dismay that a thin line of dark red was showing through the bandages. Cradling Wufei's calf in one arm, he reached for the chair, and brought it over.
Carefully, Treize lowered Wufei's leg so that it rested comfortably on the padded seat of the chair. Treize let out a sigh of relief, no matter whether or not Wufei saw it. He looked up.
Wufei's hands were white, clutching the mug of soup. His face was a similar color, and he shook violently. Even in the black depths of his eyes, Treize could see how dilated the pilot's pupils were. He reached a hand out to touch Wufei's shoulder.
Wufei's shoulder twitched at the touch, but he started breathing more clearly, to Treize's eyes. Then he blinked, and unclenched his jaw.
"I'm sorry," Treize said, and Wufei's eyes focused on him. Treize opened his mouth again, and found the breath to speak. "I...Your leg must be elevated, Chang Wufei." He moved away, and picked up his mug of soup.
There was a minute of silence.
"General..."
Treize looked up from staring at his cup of soup.
"Yes?"
"My leg... How bad...?"
Treize pressed his lips tightly together. He looked down at the floor, at the discarded piece of shrapnel. Wufei looked at his face and followed his gaze back to the floor. There, he saw a large, bloody piece of jagged metal. That...had been...in his leg?
"I think it cut all the way to the bone, Chang Wufei," Treize said. Wufei's face had no expression. What could he be thinking, right now? "You lost a lot of blood."
"I feel fine."
"Hopefully the ibuprofen will help with the headache."
"I have no headache."
"Chang Wufei..."
"Wufei. Just call me Wufei."
Treize raised an eyebrow. "If we are being informal, you must call me Treize."
Wufei snorted. "Fine. Treize." His name was twisted and spat out, but it was better than being called General all the time.
"Wufei, then. Wufei, what happened?"
"What do you mean, Treize?" Wufei leered at the name, over-pronouncing it and stretching the syllable.
Treize sighed. "I mean, you show up at my cabin at two AM from a battle that ended around seven PM last night, torn to shreds by shrapnel. Which, if I might add, hit only the left side of your body. Judging by the size of that-" he indicated the large piece of metal on the floor, "-I'd say the explosion was rather large. I'd have heard it, if it were nearby."
Wufei bit his lip. Treize kept watching him.
"It was...a mission. To destroy an armaments factory," he finally said, quietly. "I...failed."
Treize raised an eyebrow.
Wufei continued, glaring into Treize's eyes, challenging him to make a comment. "The new mobile dolls were there, and complete. They're all over Earth." This made Treize start, slightly, in surprise. Romefeller had told him that it would be weeks until the new mobile dolls were complete, much less sent to Earth.
Wufei choked out a small, sarcastic laugh, at himself and at Treize's expression. "Maybe I didn't fail...," he muttered. "They chased me into the middle of the factory. They were...set...to track Na--my Gundam. So I...left it, there." Treize frowned. Wufei was starting to shake in outrage. "I left my Gundam, and I got out of there. I...ran..."
Treize sat back. So that was Wufei's problem. He had run away from a battle. And worse, from a battle against cold, lifeless machines.
"And they destroyed your Gundam?" Treize asked quietly. He saw Wufei's eyes refocus on him. As long as Wufei's pupils had concentrated on his own, they had broken away from reality and he had been staring at an invisible wall between them.
Wufei straightened slightly, regaining his composure. "I don't know. All I remember was the explosion. The dolls took care of the factory, for me. Then there was the shrapnel, and...running."
Treize leaned forward. "You...ran? On that leg?"
"What else was I going to do?" Wufei spat.
"But...how did you get here?"
"I ran."
Treize was silent for a moment. "Wufei...which factory were you attacking?"
Wufei responded immediately. "The Baja Taurus factory."
"But that's..." Treize paused, running figures through his head. "That's over fifty miles away."
"Yes." Wufei was unfazed.
"Why did you run all the way here?"
Wufei curled his lip. "Think about it." Treize thought. Wufei had known he needed medical attention. If he had stayed in the area of the explosion, an ambulance would have picked him up. He would have been healed. Then, he would have had to answer as to why a boy was on the factory site after closing hours, and what he had to do with the blast. Not to mention that fragments of gundanium would be found amidst the ruins, and everyone knew that the Gundam pilots were young boys... Of course he would have to leave the area, and in desperation, the first place he may have thought of would have been the cabin. Treize nodded. Wufei sniffed, and took a sip of his soup.
Treize looked down at his untouched mug of soup. A sound made him look up.
Wufei fought it, but he yawned widely, his shoulders shaking in exhaustion. Treize smiled a bit. Now that the edge had worn off of Wufei's pain, he should sleep.
"Wufei..."
Wufei blinked, trying to keep himself awake. "Yes?"
"You should get some rest."
"I'm fine."
"I believe you. But you've had a hard night, and it would be good to relax your body."
"Do you have a radio?"
"Excuse me?"
"I need to radio...the other pilots." Treize frowned a little.
"Well, yes, I do..." He looked outside at the rain. "I don't know how it will work, though. It's old." He looked at Wufei, and stood up. "Just a minute."
"Thank you," he heard Wufei mumble as he left the main room.
Treize returned a few minutes later with a small radio. He left the radio with Wufei, and went to his room. Even through the walls of the cabin and the rain outside, he could hear the static that the old radio emitted, proving his doubts that it would be able to cut through the storm.
Treize quietly made his bed, smoothing out the sheets and pulling up the blankets until it was comfortable again. He fluffed the pillows. Finally, he moved on to a closet and pulled out some extra pillows. He set them next to the bed. Then he sat down.
A few minutes after he was done, he heard the static stop. He waited. Eight minutes later, the static began again. Another five minutes, and it stopped again. He decided Wufei would be done, by now. He stood, and left the bedroom.
---
Treize poked his head around the frame of the kitchen door, to see Wufei staring miserably at the radio. "Excuse me..." Wufei looked up. "Did you get through?"
Wufei wrinkled his nose. "No. I tried twice."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't bother."
"Wufei..." Wufei blinked at Treize, and he went on. "Would you be willing to rest, and perhaps sleep? I would feel better if you healed up a bit more before you left."
"Sure," Wufei said dejectedly. Immediately, he started to lie down on the couch, wincing as he tried to move his leg back from the chair to the couch.
"No!" Treize exclaimed. Wufei's head shot up in surprise. "You...please, sleep in my room," Treize said. "The bed is much more comfortable than the couch."
Wufei opened his mouth to refuse, but closed it again, and nodded. The bed really was more comfortable than the couch, and warmer, too. And he was tired. But getting through the kitchen and the bathroom into the back of the cabin would be painful.
"How am I supposed to get there?" Wufei asked quietly.
Treize ran his eyes over Wufei for a moment, then stepped forward. Wufei tried to back into the couch.
"No way! You're not..." He sputtered as Treize ran an arm behind his back. Treize pulled him up gently, so that Wufei was standing on his right leg.
"I think that if you tried hopping to the bedroom, you would break another rib," Treize said reasonably. Wufei nodded and, beet red, he reached his arms up to hold onto Treize's neck and shoulders. Treize leaned down and gently picked Wufei up so that the pilot's thighs rested against his forearm. This way, he would not pressure his injured leg.
Wufei shook with the small jolt of pain that being lifted had brought on. Treize readjusted the blankets around him carefully, then started to walk towards the door. With Wufei's help, he walked through the kitchen. When they got to the bathroom, Wufei coughed.
Treize blinked at the pilot. "Wufei...I forgot. Do you need to--" Wufei nodded quickly, and Treize carefully set him down on one leg. Wufei glanced at the floor, embarrassed, then fairly pushed Treize out of the bathroom. Treize laughed quietly as he stumbled into the bedroom. After a minute, the bathroom door opened again, and Wufei maneuvered himself into the doorway, leaning on the frame.
Treize hurried back over, and picked Wufei up again. He carried the young pilot the short distance to the bed, and gently laid him down.
Wufei cringed as his left foot touched down on the mattress. Almost before he knew it, Treize had snapped up the spare pillows from the floor, and Wufei's injured leg had been comfortably elevated. Then Treize pulled the blankets up in order to tuck them around Wufei.
Soon, Wufei felt more comfortable than he ever had during the war. He yawned again, and smiling unconsciously, he nestled into the soft pillows. Treize smiled. Wonderful. Sleep would help the young pilot heal. Within moments, Wufei's breathing was slow and even, and Treize turned out the light. A thought struck him, and he hung a thick blanket over the curtain rod, blocking the rising sun from shining into the room.
---
Treize returned to the main room. The sun coming up over the mountains was incredibly bright. Why did this seem so strange? Oh, of course. It had stopped raining. There were birds outside, heralding the dawn.
Treize leaned down and picked up the piece of shrapnel that had been stuck in Wufei's leg. The blood had dried on it, giving it a rusty, dark look. He shuddered again, wondering if Wufei's leg could possibly heal properly. He placed the metal on one of the bloody towels he had used initially to stop Wufei's bleeding. Then he found the piece that he had pulled from above Wufei's ear, and placed it on the towel.
Almost silently, Treize wrapped the towel around the bits of shrapnel. Then he walked stiffly into the kitchen, and dropped the bundle into a trash bag, towel and all. He went back to the main room.
The rest of the clean-up was simple: putting the remaining towels where they could be washed, returning all of the unused bandages to the green kit and the kit to the bathroom, and putting the bowl and kettle back in the kitchen. Some blood had gotten on the couch where Wufei had been lying, and other spots dotted the floor. Treize mopped up what he could from the couch before finding some cleaner to stop the stain. He didn't bother with the floor.
Satisfied that he had done everything he could in the main room, Treize picked up Wufei's empty mug, and his own untouched cup of cold soup, and took them to the kitchen.
Mugs. Bowl. Soup pot. Treize washed all of the dishes. And dried them. And put them away. Then he puttered around the kitchen, trying to find more meaningless tasks to keep him busy until Wufei woke up. He was tired, and he wanted to sleep, but his feeling of responsibility towards Wufei kept him awake.
He was just giving in to the inevitable, and had turned towards the couch that would work just fine in replacement of his own, comfortable bed, when a cry from the bedroom startled him. Treize jumped, spun around, and ran through the kitchen and the bathroom.
---
Blackout
---
"The Play of Life"
-Act II, scene 2-
---
Lights
---
Wufei had moved in his sleep. He had rolled over, and in doing so, moved his injured leg off the pillows that it rested on. Treize flipped on the light in the bedroom and could see it at once. He leaped forward and pulled back the covers of the bed. The thin line of red that had shown through the bandages earlier had spread, and as Wufei thrashed about in pain, Treize ran his fingers along the bandage. It was wet to the touch.
"Quiet, Wufei. Please," he whispered. "Don't think about it. Just don't move." Wufei choked out a strangling sound, shuddered, and took a deep breath. "Good," Treize continued. "Concentrate on me. Talk to me."
Treize thought quickly. What subject would the pilot be most likely to talk freely about? He blurted out, "Do you have a girlfriend? Someone who is waiting for you to come back from the war?" As he talked, he jumped into the bathroom and retrieved the medical kit he had just put away.
"I...No," Wufei said. Treize could hear a catch.
"No one? Family, even? Perhaps a cousin." He reentered the room, and immediately flipped the field kit open to pull out more bandages and salves. Oh, he wished he could stitch Wufei's leg up. That would help the process, but he didn't want to hurt him further with his lack of expertice.
"No one," Wufei breathed. He was desperately trying to concentrate on their conversation. "They're all...huhh! They're dead," he finished, as another flash of pain hit him. Treize arranged the supplies on the bed. Then he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a small pocket knife.
"Whatever you do, now, Wufei," he said, "Do not move. Did you...have a girlfriend...perhaps, a young love?" He flipped the blade open, and placed the tip at the top of the bandage on Wufei's leg.
"No! Just...my wife," Wufei breathed. Meiran. That's right. Think about Meiran.
Treize started to pull the sharp blade down, across the bandages, but away from the actual wound. He sliced through the tape and gauze easily, but was careful not to even touch Wufei's skin.
"Your wife?"
"She's...she's dead. An...OZ attack." Wufei spat out the words, but still did not move.
"An OZ attack on L5?" Treize asked. He pulled the bandages free, not caring about the blood that spattered on the sheets. Blood had clotted around most of the wound, but one deep section was still flowing.
"Ye-yes," Wufei said. "She went...to fight OZ. To save our people..." Treize wiped up some of the excess blood with gauze. Then he sprayed a disinfectant over the wound again, and then more salve. "She...took a mobile suit. It was a...prototype."
"Like the Gundams?" Treize asked. He started to wind gauze around Wufei's leg.
"Sort of. D...Doctor O made that one...first. Then he made...mine." Wufei cried out as Treize lifted his leg to wind the bandage around it.
"He designed two Gundams?" He fastened the gauze, and cut the extra off.
"Yes. Meiran...took the first one."
"Meiran?" Treize reached for the medical tape.
"My wife."
"That's a beautiful name. Tell me what she looked like." He started to wrap the medical tape around Wufei's leg. He wound it firmly, but not so tight as to cut off the pilot's circulation. Wufei whimpered and shook, but did not move his legs.
"She...was shorter than me," Wufei gasped. "Her hair...long, and black..."
"What did she like to do?" Carefully, carefully...
Wufei coughed, and Treize realized it was actually a laugh. "She liked to fight. She...challenged me, a lot."
"And you?" There, the tape should hold him together for a little longer, this time, Treize thought.
"I read. A lot," Wufei said.
Treize lifted Wufei's leg back onto the stack of pillows. "Not a fighter?"
Wufei sighed. :Not then." Treize also sighed. His task was done. He started to pick up the remaining materials.
"And then she...Meiran...died."
Wufei's breathing evened out. "Yes." Treize dumped the bandages and salves into the medical box, and shut it.
"You loved her." Wufei closed his eyes. Treize lifted an eyebrow. "Wufei?"
"I don't know," he mumbled. "I never knew."
Treize pulled the blankets back up over Wufei, and tucked them in again. "Wufei?"
The pilot made a guttural noise that indicated he was listening.
"Would you like another motrin?" Wufei opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
"Yes. Thank you." Treize looked at the young pilot sadly, and went to get the medication. When he returned, Wufei had not moved at all.
"Here," the General said. Wufei accepted the pill and small glass of water silently. "I'm sorry that I asked about--"
"Don't bother," Wufei said, placing the pill on his tongue. He took a long drink of water and swallowed. After a moment, he looked at Treize again. "Thank you."
Treize blinked. Of course, for the bandages. "You are quite welcome."
"Treize..."
"Yes, Wufei?"
"Could you uncover the window?"
"Of course," Treize said, walking over and pulling the heavy blanket away. Bright sunlight flooded the room, and they both blinked away the sudden spots in front of their eyes. "Would you like to get up, now?"
"Um, no," Wufei said, knitting his brows. "I'll...go back to sleep."
"Carefully."
"Hmm. I won't move, this time."
"Very well." Treize moved back to the door. "Sleep well."
"Mm..." Asleep already. Treize almost smiled. There was nothing else to do... He picked up a book lying on the bedside table, and quietly pulled a small stool over to sit on. He opened the book to a thin, yellowing bookmark, and made himself comfortable to read. From here, he could look up at any time and see the young pilot. Sighing, he began to read.
---
Wufei yawned. He was well rested enough that opening his eyes into the bright light of the room did not hurt. He hadn't moved any since Treize had repositioned him, last. He knew better than to try to sit up, so he stretched his neck and looked from side to side.
Wufei almost laughed out loud. Treize had moved to lie down on the floor and read, but had finally fallen asleep. His thumb was still stuck between the pages where he had been reading, but otherwise he had sprawled himself across the floor and generally looked very funny.
Wufei shifted slightly, to ease a slight sympathy pain in his back that had come from looking at the odd position the General had chosen to sleep in. General. Treize. Wufei frowned thoughtfully as he contemplated the man on the floor.
General Treize Kushrenada was a hard man, devious, scheming, full of ideas and always with a ready answer that could manipulate anyone into doing as he wished. Yet Wufei could not connect that official with the man who had taken care of him this past day.
Treize was caring and gentle, intelligent, and forgiving. He made mistakes, apologized, and was more... friendly, Wufei decided. He was friendly. Moreso, Wufei realized that he actually respected the man for the space, privacy, and care he had given to him. He smiled slightly.
"Hmph." From the floor, Treize rolled over, back over, and stretched. He blinked his eyes open, grimacing, and glared at the ceiling. "Nngrr...."
"Hello," Wufei said, from the bed.
"Hm?" Treize stood up and looked around. "Oh, Wufei. Excuse me."
"No problem," Wufei said. "Did you sleep well?"
Treize tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow at the change in Wufei's tone from earlier that morning. "Quite well, actually, considering that's a wooden floor." He laughed, deep in his throat. "I knew I should have gotten throw rugs."
"Treize?" The taller man stretched again before looking down on himself and realizing he had never gotten dressed.
"Yes?" He asked, striding over to a small dresser to remove a pair of pants.
"Could I try to radio the other pilots again?" Treize looked outside. It was still sunny, so the interference would be gone.
"Of course. I'll get it in just a minute, unless you'd like to go back out to the living room?"
"Um. I'll stay here."
"Ah. Give me a minute," Treize said, clutching the pants and walking quickly towards the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later with the radio, wearing his pants. "Here. Good luck." He helped Wufei sit up slightly, and moved the pillows around his leg, accordingly. Wufei's leg still hurt, but he was less inclined to cry out.
"Thank you," Wufei said quietly as Treize left and closed the door. Wufei blinked at the door for a moment before smiling and switching the radio on. He didn't have to worry about Treize listening to his conversation with the other pilots--Treize's honor would not let him do something so low.
The radio buzzed for a few minutes while Wufei readjusted the knobs and the antenna. All at once, the buzzing calmed on a clearer radio wave.
Wufei pressed a button on the small microphone. "This is pilot 05, Nataku," he said. "Is there anyone there to hear me? Pilot 05, Nataku." He released the button and waited a minute before repeating his message. The second time, he got a response.
"Nataku?--ey, man! Where are--are you? We've been l--king all ov--er--or you," came the staticy reply. "--Ow'd the mis--go?" There was a click before the soft hum of the radio came back. Wufei pressed the mike button again.
"Mission...failed," he said. "I've got injuries, and I need someone to come get me."
"Fai--man, that's--ough luck, Na--ku. Can you g--us a rough est--are?"
"Repeat that?"
"Where--you?"
"About fifty miles northwest of the mission site. I'm in a forest, small clearing."
"One mo--ime, buddy."
"About fifty miles. North. West. From the mission site. Small clearing, in a forest."
"Okay. Got it--will be sometime--night, we're a li--usy, you know, but--get to you as soon--possible, Nataku."
"Thank you."
"--ey! No probl--an! Take care of--self, okay?"
"Yes. Nataku, signing out."
"La--man. Deathsy--ing out." Wufei sighed and turned the radio off. Tonight. He glanced at the bedside clock. Half-past noon.
About fifteen minutes later, Treize returned with a plate of small sandwiches, and some cups. He poked his head through the door before walking in. He smiled brightly.
"Ah, you got through?"
"Yes."
"Lunch?"
"Yes, please. Thank you."
"My pleasure," Treize said, placing the sandwiches on the bedside table. He helped Wufei adjust some more to make eating more comfortable. "Then...the other pilots will come to pick you up?"
"Sometime tonight," Wufei said, accepting a cup from Treize. It was hot tea. He sniffed the aroma and sighed. Very nice.
"Good," Treize said. "Do you need to signal them?"
Wufei thought for a moment. "No. Probably not. But...could I sit outside?"
Treize smiled at him and took a sip of tea. "Yes, I think we can arrange that."
"Treize..."
"Yes?" Wufei looked down at a sandwich he had picked up. He looked back into Treize's eyes. They looked sad.
"Thank you." Treize smiled. It was a sad smile.
"Thank you, Wufei." Wufei frowned thoughtfully at him for a moment. Then he returned to his food. They let the silence stretch between them for a while as they finished their lunch.
When they finished, Treize removed the plate and empty cups. He set them in the kitchen absentmindedly, wondering how to entertain Wufei for the rest of the day.
"Wufei?"
The young pilot had taken to staring out the window at the trees outside the cabin. "Yes?"
"I know being injured is...frustrating. Perhaps you like to play chess?"
Wufei favored Treize with an amused smile. "I don't know how." Treize looked slightly taken aback at this statement.
"I thought everyone...Penté?"
"No."
"Mancala?"
"Hm-mm."
"Go-Mo-Ku?"
Wufei raised an eyebrow. "I know that one."
Treize grinned. "Wonderful. Could you teach me?" Wufei laughed.
"I can. It's very easy, like your game...um...Tic Tac Toe?"
"Ah, yes!"
"Do you have a game board?"
Treize nodded, and turned to his dresser drawers. The bottom drawer was full of books and old boxes of games. Treize pulled out a worn cloth and a bag of playing stones.
"I played when I was very young," Treize said. "Unfortunately, I've forgotten how." He laid the cloth out on the bedside table, which was easily within Wufei's reach. Now Wufei could see that a Go-Mo-Ku board had been stained into the cloth. Treize dumped the playing stones out. They were red and blue glass drops. Wufei chose the red.
"Red?"
"It's customary. You go first."
"How should I start?"
"See the intersections of the squares? The idea is to take four intersections in a row." Wufei pointed and set pieces to example his explanation. "Horizontal, or diagonal, any way works."
"Mm. I see. So I place the first piece?"
"Yes. But you must call the coordinates," Wufei said. "And when you get four in a row, you must call 'Go-Mo-Ku.' That's how you win."
"Ah. Well, then...five, five." Treize set a blue stone in the direct center of the board.
"Six, six," Wufei said, placing a red stone.
"Six, five."
"Hm. Seven, five."
"Ah. Five, seven."
"Hm? Five, six."
"...Four, six."
"...Oh!" Wufei blinked in surprise. "You win!"
"But I haven't made four in a row, yet..."
"But anything I do..."
"I can still win."
"Yes."
"Very well, then. Go-Mo-Ku." Treize paused. "This is very much like Penté."
"How so?"
"Let me show you." Treize returned to the dresser drawer and pulled out a slightly larger piece of cloth, somewhat less worn. He unrolled it to show Wufei. The board was exactly like the Go-Mo-Ku board, except about four times the size.
Treize removed the Go-Mo-Ku board. He set the Penté board on the table and placed pieces on it to mimic their game.
"You see, the object in this game is to get five pieces in a row." Wufei nodded. Treize picked up one of his red stones. "However, in Penté, you can place this here." He set the stone at six, four.
"So?"
"Now, say I laugh at your move. I place a stone at three, five, because that is most advantageous to me."
"How am I supposed to stop you from winning?"
"Like so," Treize said, placing another red piece. Wufei frowned as he looked at the board. "Three, seven."
"What does that do?" Treize smiled secretively, and plucked the blue stones from five, five, and four, six.
"When you surround two of my pieces like that, you can remove them from the board. Now I only have three pieces on the board, and not placed strategically. Do you understand?"
Wufei thought for a moment. "Yes."
"Of course, it works in reverse."
"Hmm."
"Would you like to continue, or start a new game?"
"A new game. You start."
"Ah." Treize cleared the Penté board, handing the red stones back to Wufei. "Ten, ten." Ten, ten was the center of the Penté board.
"Hmm."
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Blackout
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