Heart's Tears
A Gundam Wing Fanfic
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Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. I wish I did... but my job hasn't quite earned me enough money to buy it out yet. *sigh*. Please don't sue. I cant quite pay for a lawyer yet either.
(" ") can either mean dialog or writing on paper.
(...) can either mean a shift in mood, story, scene, or a transition from writing to though
*unless noted as dialog, all text is one person's thoughts (I just didn't feel like making all the thought marks)
Note: This fanfic has Yaoi thoughts in it, if you are bothered by these things, please don't read it. If you read it and don't like it, don't blaim me. I didn't create the essence of gay people either. There is also one lime scene. If you disagree with this type of thing, see note above.
I tried to write this fanfic in a different light from all the other yaoi fanfics out there. I hope you like the style. I tried to represent a side of the story you wouldn't normally see, I hope you can learn from this... (and liking it is always nice too...)
And without further ado...
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It was sunset. That was about all he could gather right now he though with a sigh. It was sunset and he was on a plane ride to nowhere.
No, he thought. No matter where he was going, it was somewhere.
Peace.
That was it. He was on a plane ride to a place where he could be happy. Be free. Be truthfull.
That had been the hard part. The secrets. So many secrets. They were like little black demons that were slowly eating him from the inside out , but he could not get rid of them. There claws were in so tight in him that it would actually hurt to let them out.
With a sigh, he turned from the window and faced his fellow passengers.
They where all there. As they had been for the past couple of years. So strange that all of them had meet in the first place. All from different colonies, there was a slim chance that they would have even have been in the same area. He had to thank the scientists for that. Yes he thought with a morbid grin, I knew those bastards were usefull for something.
As his gaze shifted from one to another of his partners, he thought of all the times he had spent with them, good and bad. All the pain that they had shared for the good of others. But all the good times to. The laughter, the jokes, and....
He broke off his thought sighlently cursing himself. Damn it. He chided himself. Has it gotten so bad that you cant even think out your feelings? But of course he knew the answer to that. Of course it was. The demons had done their work. He was already dead. That was why he was here. To be with his comrades wherever they went. That was he had pledged to himself. And that was what he was going to do.
He looked over at the teenager sitting across from him. Yes, he answered to the un-asked question. Yes, I'm doing the right thing.
The teen caught his gaze and he blushed and quickly looked out the window behind the boy's head pretending to be facanated in the clouds just above his head. The boy looked at him with a mix of scorn and wonder, then turned back to the letter he was writing. Daring a quick glance, the boy noticed the salutation on the letter. A slight tremor ran through his heart. There was no arrow in his heart, no gapping hole, just a sort of nothingness. An emptyness that filled everything, deeper than any wound.
What's wrong? He thought to himself angrily. What is it, huh? You had been expecting this hadn't you? You didn't think he was going to change now at the last second did you? Then why act so hurt?
But of course he knew the answer to that, though he wouldn't dare tell anyone else.
Slowly turning back to his seat, he looked at the unwriten letter in his lap. It had been the scientist's idea. Write a letter to a person near to them. Hah, the boy scoffed under his breath. There was noone near to him. He had no parents, no friends that extended past his childhood. And he was certainly not going to write a letter to him. No, even if he did have the courage to give it to him, he wouldn't read it. And if he did, he would hate him even more than he already did. At least this way he could still at least be his friend.
With a concealed sob he stared down at the page in front of him trying not to cry. Kind of strange, he thought, that I can kill so many without sheading a tear but whenever I think of him, and how...
He broke the thougths off...as he started crying. Sobbing, with no tears gracing his cheeks. He did all his crying in his heart. Tears were a concilation, this was more of a finallity. To all others, his face was a mask void of emotion, only he knew how much he was hurting...how much....
Feeling unable to control his emotions a second longer, he managed a quick, soft sigh. Not something someone else would pick up. But the boy turned to him with a questioning stare in his eyes, and, as he felt his heart thud inside his chest with the boy's unspoken concern, with no expression, turned back to his letter. A tremor ran through his heart and he shuddered, the first physical gesture he had allowed himself in years.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and a quiet boy's concerened voice saying, "you allright?" He smiled warmly at his friend. He always knew when someone wasn't happy even if they tried to hide it. He managed a quick nod before he once again felt the tears burn his eyes and he had to look down
Once again his friend smiled, a more reasuring smile tthat everything would turn out alright before resuming his seat. Where, as he turned his back to his friend, he could feel his concered stare into the back of his head.
Once again, he turned back to his paper. It seemed like an imposible task, filling it. But then as he was about to tear it up, he heard a voice reciting something that he had been told along time ago. He couldn't quite place the voice though he had heard it before. It was a woman's voice, young and beautiful, and he wondered wishinglly that it was the voice of his mother. It wispered into his ear, "...remember, nothing is impossible unless you deem it so. You're a wonerful person who will do wonderful things that only fate knows, but remember this, if you want to, you can. Sometimes the most terrible things are those that we need the most..." Her voice faded away, and he sat still trying to remember every tone of her voice. As her voice fadded away, it was joined by a man's voice which he recongnized as his mentor, "here...for you...it's a journal. Write your thougths in it. You'll be facing some challenging times ahead and it's best if you have this. Write in it everyday...your thoughts, feelings, whatever. Its much easier to sort things out if you don't have them jumbled into your head..."
He remembered the journal. It had been given to him as a gift when he was just a boy. He had thought it was stupid and thrown it out, but now as he was remembering it, he wished he had kept it. Even if it was stupid, so was he, wasn't he? And it might have helped him. (more than crashing into the ocean at least, he though with a real grin.) But...he thought as he was regretting Its loss, it wasn't lost. I have it right in front of me. What's to stop me from starting this now?
He looked at the paper again, this time with greater certainty.
With a growing certainty, he picked up his pencil.
And stoped.
He didn't know how.
He didn't know what to write, he didn't even know how to begin.
With a slam he threw down his pencil.
The boy glanced at him with a strange look of utter distaste in his eyes, that seemed to scream to him about all his failures, and with hardened eyes he turned back to his letter.
He cryed out silently for him to turn back, to look at him just once more, even if it was w/ scorn, but to no avail. The boy continued to write and he sighed and once again picked up his pencil.
"Dear Diary" he wrote. That is such a lame start! he thought. I bet nobody else here have diaries. Diaries are for girls and sissies. I bet I'm a sissy he thought. And a coward.
But he stiffened his emotions like he had so much practice doing and turned back to his letter.
...
"Dear Diary,"
"Remember me? What's it been? 12 yrs? Last time I wrote to you I was still a boy. Now, hopefully, I'm a man. What I'm going to do today is tell you everything that I have had bottled up inside me for all these years. Things that noone else will ever know. Now, finally, I can be truthfull."
...
"How to begin? The trouble is I don't know when it started. I always knew I was antsy around girls, they made me nervous, like I was too scared of being humiliated in front of them; to be myself. I never had that trouble with guys though. Guys just seem to understand each other better I had thought for a while. Guys didn't want you to try to change yourself to make you more appealing to them."
"I suppose the first time I realized was about a year ago. We were stopping at a colony, I cant remember it's name it was such a while ago, after a mission and we were planning to stay about a week (a long time for us.) That night we went out for dinner, just the five of us at a rather slutty restraunt in the slums of the city. Come to think of it, we probably could have gotten a better attmosphere with our co-piolet's connections but it was right after a job and we were lying low for a while."
"Any how, were all sitting at a bar having a couple of drinks. I should add at this point that I cant hold my liquer very well. After a few glasses, everything sort of became dissoriented. That's when she came."
"Victoria I think was her name, or Vicky, something like that. She was rather good looking as females go. All the other guys with the exeption of our chinese friend who had given up the company of women after the loss of his wife were highly interested in her. But instead of going for one of them like any other girl would do, she headed straight for me."
"At first I was scarred. Didn't know what to do. No other girl had approached me like that till now. Assuming a, what I hopped was, cool and reserved atmosphere, I invited her to sit and offered to buy her a drink. She accepted. Several drinks latter we were both a little tipsy. I guess I didn't notice the others leaving, it must have been near closing time because I didn't notice anyone else nearby."
"Still the drinks keept coming. I wondered to myself under a haze of lights and laughter, would she ever have enough to drink? I guess so. After what I guessed was our 10th drink, she stoped and turned to me."
"At first I expected thanks. I had never bought a girl a drink before. What would It be like? Would she say thanks and leave or would she stay around and talk for awhile. You could tell I had no idea of girls."
"Instead of thanking me, she turned on me like she had attacked the drinks. Before I could tell we were on the floor. I tried to stop her, to call out, but there was nobody there. I don't remember much about what happened that night. I don't know whether it was because I was too drunk to notice or whether I blocked it from my memory."
"The next thing I remember was being woken by the bartender who had a cocky grin on his face. Thank god he didn't say anything thought my face was probably beet red."
"I could barely stand facing my co-piolets when I walked into the room. All I could tell was they were laughing at me. I ran to my room and shut the door, prompting more laughter, but I didn't have time for it. I had to think things out for myself."
...
"I said I didn't remember anything from that night, I guess I lied. I did remember something. And that something was nothing. I had felt nothing last night. Nothing. No regret, confusion, and most especially, no joy. Not even the kind of horny joy that comes with things like that as my co-piolets have pointed out."
"And when she started kissing me, nothing. I felt nothing. That is, if nothing could ever be anything. I felt this deep black pit inside me that had no substance, just...nothing. Forgive me, I over use words a bit."
...
He cut off. He felt as if he had gone through a dozen battles, he was shaking so much. He could sense the inquisitive stares of others, but he shook them off. Now was not the time.
However, he did sneek a glance at the piolet across from him. Chewing on his pencil as he started at him he could only think...beautiful. There was such a naturall beauty, a rugged beauty around him that was amplified by his unconcience of it. Something about him drew others too him. His harshness, perhaps he thought. The mystery that was his life. And the grace that was his death.
As he started at him, he felt a sudden twinge inside of him, an emotion that he had not experienced in so long. Hurt. He was hurt. He would not blame him, it was one of his greatest accomplishments he felt that he had keept this a secret. So how could he be hurt if the person didn't even know how to hurt him?, He thought to himself. Baka, he wispered softly. Baka, baka, baka.
With a sigh, he turned away from him, trying to press the image of his figure into his mind, and once again picked up his pencil.
...
"So that was it. That was the final curtain call that night. I realized that all these feelings I had for girls, the apprehension, was not built out of some strange childhood fear, it was real. I finally had to confront the fact that I was gay."
"Of course I could not tell the others. Somehow, they had gained the impression that if you were gay you liked all men. How wrong. Being gay was much like being straight. You didn't like every girl you saw did you? Well, most people don't anyway. There are always the exceptions. No, you didn't like every guy on the street If you were gay. You had crushes just like any other person. And I soon realized, whether to my satisfation or dispare, I had one."
"I'm not quite sure when this started either. This was a more gradual thing. I just began to notice things about him, the way he talked, the manner in which he held things. His understanding of the world around him. He handled these things with such ease that my respect of him grew like (pardon the clique) a wildflower."
"I tried to stop, I knew what a terrible thing it would be if these feelings went any further, knew how painfull it would be, but I couldn't stop. It was like I was being drawn by a gigantic magnet and not even I could stop it. Pretty soon I realized, it was too late. I was in love."
...
The pencil silently dropped from his hand involentarely as he sighed, eyes closed. He wasn't sure what he felt, relief or hurt. That one line. That was the pit the blackness he felt inside him. The center of what he had had bottled up inside him.
He glanced again at his co-piolet. You don't know how much I've hurt to keep you from hurting he mouthed. Concience of being started at, the boy turned his head and stared right into his eyes.
He felt himself going stiff. He was sure the boy could read what he was thinking. See every black thought in his head. For a moment he was caught in the steady stare of his eyes. The eyes that he had loved in secret, but were now killing him.
With a quick twitch, the boy turned back to his letter. It was long, already on it's 9th page. How much can he say to her? He wondered. He saw her so much, It was kind of hard to avoid her. And even though the only exchanged a few words at each meeting, it was still something. He couldn't have keept that much from her, they seemed so close he thought enviously.
Sighing, this time almost invarably, he turned back to his letter. No turning back now, he thought. Once I've gotten this far, I feel as if I have to go on, I must.
...
"I was in love. (He wrote again) At first I didn't want to believe it. Couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that my life could have taken such a turn from what it had once been. I had been so happy before this, I thought. Or had I been happy? I couldn't tell. I was in such a turmoil inside."
"The black was inside again, only this time it was churning and it was no longer black, but an assortmant of different colors of the rainbow that all were black inside me. I felt sick. Dizzy. Nauseas...like I was going to throw up but knew I couldn't."
"Is this what love is like I thought weakly? Or just my distorted version? I decided on the latter. If it were anything different, I could tell him. Then it could be over good or bad. But this way...I could never tell...I knew his stand on people like me. Have seen him scoff them, laugh at them. He had even told me that he felt sick when he thought of them. No, I thought...he was my friend, tha'ts all I have of him. If I ever told him, I wouldn't even have that."
"No, I have to keep quiet...love quietly. That's the only way not to get hurt. The only way to live through this. Because I secretly hoped that this would all pass...that this was all a mistake. A terrible mistake like a nightmare. And everything could go back to normal."
...
But it never would, he thought to himself. Never. Nobody ever forgot there first love. And judging from the circumstances, it would be his only love. He looked at the clock. 10:24 minutes left before they reached there destination. The end of a long tiring journey.
He almost smiled. It was strange that he was so happy that it would end, but at the same time he was dreading it. Kind of ironic. But there was no turing back now. Litterally. The plane was set on autopoilet.
Better just enjoy the ride while I can I suppose he thought. And the first thing will be to do this-. He thougth as he tore the diary into little parts. Now nobody would ever know. He would go down as one of the best soldiers without a tarnish to his title.
They were right...he thought to himself. That did help clear up his thougths. He could think clearer now. And he knew what he had to do. A final confession. It would be the final relief. He looked at the clock again. 4:28 min. About four minutes left.
Guess I should be thinking my last thoughts. My last feelings. But what else is there. No one else ever entered my life perminently. Sure there were friends. And "loves" he thought with a shiver as he remembered a particualer girl who thought he had actually liked her and had protected her out of his love.
Baka. He thought. She should know I only protect people out of reflex and pity. Never love. If they want me to love them, they must earn it. Be worthy of it. He knew many people dissagreed on it. That they thought you should love another person just because they were human. Baka's...all of them.
2:19 min. Almost time. He wasn't scared persay. He couldn't really place the feeling he had. Just a dullness really. Not that it mattered anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. Except one thing. And that, he was about to do.
The mechanical sounding of the scientist was heard through out the cabin, asking them to please move to the shuttle. His heart began beating a little faster. All his fantisys were about to become reality. Finally.
Moving into the capsal which had been specifically designed for the 5 of them, he managed with just a few strange looks to arrange himself next to him.
...
The mechanical voice began counting down. The time was drawing closer. He felt a shiver of dread, and of relieve and he felt the shiver pass from him into his friend as if a common bond. He smiled inwardly to himself. Even the brief gesture was more rewarding than everything that had happened that fatefull night in the bar.
10...he glanced at the boy next to him. He looked so calm, so confident. Was he hidding his feelings too? Were they all hidding there feelings he thought abstractly?
...9...he began to sweat slightly as he thought about it. This wasn't like a mission, he thought to himself. This was different. The scientists had presented it to him as a mission, but it wasn't. It was just another one of their lies.
...8...7...6...the seconds were going past to fast he thought, it's too soon! He suddenly felt himself filled with the most powerfull emotion he had ever felt in his life. Stronger than love, stronger than hate, stronger than anything he could possibly imagine. It was the fierce longing to turn back, to go away. He didn't want to do this...oh, god, he didn't want to do this...don't make me, he thought in fear...
...5...he could really feel himself sweating now, both from nerves and the heat penetrating the shuttle.
...4...3...he began to pray to the god he had never prayed to before for courage. As if answering his prayer, the boy turned and offered a reassuring smile. He hesitently smiled back, relishing the look on the boy's face from seeing his expression.
...2...with a deep breath, he picked up the boy's hand and held it strongly noticing the boy's shocked expression. For a second he paniced, wondered if this wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe he should just let it go...but he ccouldn't. His body seemed to have taken control of him he thought in alarm. He couldn't release the boys hand. With this fact, he planned to depart on the scariest mission of his life...
...1...as the shuttle burst into flames from the heat from the sun it was rocketing tward, Heero looked steadly into Duo's eyes, and while leaning over to kiss his cheek wispered, "I love you."
A Gundam Wing Fanfic
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Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. I wish I did... but my job hasn't quite earned me enough money to buy it out yet. *sigh*. Please don't sue. I cant quite pay for a lawyer yet either.
(" ") can either mean dialog or writing on paper.
(...) can either mean a shift in mood, story, scene, or a transition from writing to though
*unless noted as dialog, all text is one person's thoughts (I just didn't feel like making all the thought marks)
Note: This fanfic has Yaoi thoughts in it, if you are bothered by these things, please don't read it. If you read it and don't like it, don't blaim me. I didn't create the essence of gay people either. There is also one lime scene. If you disagree with this type of thing, see note above.
I tried to write this fanfic in a different light from all the other yaoi fanfics out there. I hope you like the style. I tried to represent a side of the story you wouldn't normally see, I hope you can learn from this... (and liking it is always nice too...)
And without further ado...
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It was sunset. That was about all he could gather right now he though with a sigh. It was sunset and he was on a plane ride to nowhere.
No, he thought. No matter where he was going, it was somewhere.
Peace.
That was it. He was on a plane ride to a place where he could be happy. Be free. Be truthfull.
That had been the hard part. The secrets. So many secrets. They were like little black demons that were slowly eating him from the inside out , but he could not get rid of them. There claws were in so tight in him that it would actually hurt to let them out.
With a sigh, he turned from the window and faced his fellow passengers.
They where all there. As they had been for the past couple of years. So strange that all of them had meet in the first place. All from different colonies, there was a slim chance that they would have even have been in the same area. He had to thank the scientists for that. Yes he thought with a morbid grin, I knew those bastards were usefull for something.
As his gaze shifted from one to another of his partners, he thought of all the times he had spent with them, good and bad. All the pain that they had shared for the good of others. But all the good times to. The laughter, the jokes, and....
He broke off his thought sighlently cursing himself. Damn it. He chided himself. Has it gotten so bad that you cant even think out your feelings? But of course he knew the answer to that. Of course it was. The demons had done their work. He was already dead. That was why he was here. To be with his comrades wherever they went. That was he had pledged to himself. And that was what he was going to do.
He looked over at the teenager sitting across from him. Yes, he answered to the un-asked question. Yes, I'm doing the right thing.
The teen caught his gaze and he blushed and quickly looked out the window behind the boy's head pretending to be facanated in the clouds just above his head. The boy looked at him with a mix of scorn and wonder, then turned back to the letter he was writing. Daring a quick glance, the boy noticed the salutation on the letter. A slight tremor ran through his heart. There was no arrow in his heart, no gapping hole, just a sort of nothingness. An emptyness that filled everything, deeper than any wound.
What's wrong? He thought to himself angrily. What is it, huh? You had been expecting this hadn't you? You didn't think he was going to change now at the last second did you? Then why act so hurt?
But of course he knew the answer to that, though he wouldn't dare tell anyone else.
Slowly turning back to his seat, he looked at the unwriten letter in his lap. It had been the scientist's idea. Write a letter to a person near to them. Hah, the boy scoffed under his breath. There was noone near to him. He had no parents, no friends that extended past his childhood. And he was certainly not going to write a letter to him. No, even if he did have the courage to give it to him, he wouldn't read it. And if he did, he would hate him even more than he already did. At least this way he could still at least be his friend.
With a concealed sob he stared down at the page in front of him trying not to cry. Kind of strange, he thought, that I can kill so many without sheading a tear but whenever I think of him, and how...
He broke the thougths off...as he started crying. Sobbing, with no tears gracing his cheeks. He did all his crying in his heart. Tears were a concilation, this was more of a finallity. To all others, his face was a mask void of emotion, only he knew how much he was hurting...how much....
Feeling unable to control his emotions a second longer, he managed a quick, soft sigh. Not something someone else would pick up. But the boy turned to him with a questioning stare in his eyes, and, as he felt his heart thud inside his chest with the boy's unspoken concern, with no expression, turned back to his letter. A tremor ran through his heart and he shuddered, the first physical gesture he had allowed himself in years.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and a quiet boy's concerened voice saying, "you allright?" He smiled warmly at his friend. He always knew when someone wasn't happy even if they tried to hide it. He managed a quick nod before he once again felt the tears burn his eyes and he had to look down
Once again his friend smiled, a more reasuring smile tthat everything would turn out alright before resuming his seat. Where, as he turned his back to his friend, he could feel his concered stare into the back of his head.
Once again, he turned back to his paper. It seemed like an imposible task, filling it. But then as he was about to tear it up, he heard a voice reciting something that he had been told along time ago. He couldn't quite place the voice though he had heard it before. It was a woman's voice, young and beautiful, and he wondered wishinglly that it was the voice of his mother. It wispered into his ear, "...remember, nothing is impossible unless you deem it so. You're a wonerful person who will do wonderful things that only fate knows, but remember this, if you want to, you can. Sometimes the most terrible things are those that we need the most..." Her voice faded away, and he sat still trying to remember every tone of her voice. As her voice fadded away, it was joined by a man's voice which he recongnized as his mentor, "here...for you...it's a journal. Write your thougths in it. You'll be facing some challenging times ahead and it's best if you have this. Write in it everyday...your thoughts, feelings, whatever. Its much easier to sort things out if you don't have them jumbled into your head..."
He remembered the journal. It had been given to him as a gift when he was just a boy. He had thought it was stupid and thrown it out, but now as he was remembering it, he wished he had kept it. Even if it was stupid, so was he, wasn't he? And it might have helped him. (more than crashing into the ocean at least, he though with a real grin.) But...he thought as he was regretting Its loss, it wasn't lost. I have it right in front of me. What's to stop me from starting this now?
He looked at the paper again, this time with greater certainty.
With a growing certainty, he picked up his pencil.
And stoped.
He didn't know how.
He didn't know what to write, he didn't even know how to begin.
With a slam he threw down his pencil.
The boy glanced at him with a strange look of utter distaste in his eyes, that seemed to scream to him about all his failures, and with hardened eyes he turned back to his letter.
He cryed out silently for him to turn back, to look at him just once more, even if it was w/ scorn, but to no avail. The boy continued to write and he sighed and once again picked up his pencil.
"Dear Diary" he wrote. That is such a lame start! he thought. I bet nobody else here have diaries. Diaries are for girls and sissies. I bet I'm a sissy he thought. And a coward.
But he stiffened his emotions like he had so much practice doing and turned back to his letter.
...
"Dear Diary,"
"Remember me? What's it been? 12 yrs? Last time I wrote to you I was still a boy. Now, hopefully, I'm a man. What I'm going to do today is tell you everything that I have had bottled up inside me for all these years. Things that noone else will ever know. Now, finally, I can be truthfull."
...
"How to begin? The trouble is I don't know when it started. I always knew I was antsy around girls, they made me nervous, like I was too scared of being humiliated in front of them; to be myself. I never had that trouble with guys though. Guys just seem to understand each other better I had thought for a while. Guys didn't want you to try to change yourself to make you more appealing to them."
"I suppose the first time I realized was about a year ago. We were stopping at a colony, I cant remember it's name it was such a while ago, after a mission and we were planning to stay about a week (a long time for us.) That night we went out for dinner, just the five of us at a rather slutty restraunt in the slums of the city. Come to think of it, we probably could have gotten a better attmosphere with our co-piolet's connections but it was right after a job and we were lying low for a while."
"Any how, were all sitting at a bar having a couple of drinks. I should add at this point that I cant hold my liquer very well. After a few glasses, everything sort of became dissoriented. That's when she came."
"Victoria I think was her name, or Vicky, something like that. She was rather good looking as females go. All the other guys with the exeption of our chinese friend who had given up the company of women after the loss of his wife were highly interested in her. But instead of going for one of them like any other girl would do, she headed straight for me."
"At first I was scarred. Didn't know what to do. No other girl had approached me like that till now. Assuming a, what I hopped was, cool and reserved atmosphere, I invited her to sit and offered to buy her a drink. She accepted. Several drinks latter we were both a little tipsy. I guess I didn't notice the others leaving, it must have been near closing time because I didn't notice anyone else nearby."
"Still the drinks keept coming. I wondered to myself under a haze of lights and laughter, would she ever have enough to drink? I guess so. After what I guessed was our 10th drink, she stoped and turned to me."
"At first I expected thanks. I had never bought a girl a drink before. What would It be like? Would she say thanks and leave or would she stay around and talk for awhile. You could tell I had no idea of girls."
"Instead of thanking me, she turned on me like she had attacked the drinks. Before I could tell we were on the floor. I tried to stop her, to call out, but there was nobody there. I don't remember much about what happened that night. I don't know whether it was because I was too drunk to notice or whether I blocked it from my memory."
"The next thing I remember was being woken by the bartender who had a cocky grin on his face. Thank god he didn't say anything thought my face was probably beet red."
"I could barely stand facing my co-piolets when I walked into the room. All I could tell was they were laughing at me. I ran to my room and shut the door, prompting more laughter, but I didn't have time for it. I had to think things out for myself."
...
"I said I didn't remember anything from that night, I guess I lied. I did remember something. And that something was nothing. I had felt nothing last night. Nothing. No regret, confusion, and most especially, no joy. Not even the kind of horny joy that comes with things like that as my co-piolets have pointed out."
"And when she started kissing me, nothing. I felt nothing. That is, if nothing could ever be anything. I felt this deep black pit inside me that had no substance, just...nothing. Forgive me, I over use words a bit."
...
He cut off. He felt as if he had gone through a dozen battles, he was shaking so much. He could sense the inquisitive stares of others, but he shook them off. Now was not the time.
However, he did sneek a glance at the piolet across from him. Chewing on his pencil as he started at him he could only think...beautiful. There was such a naturall beauty, a rugged beauty around him that was amplified by his unconcience of it. Something about him drew others too him. His harshness, perhaps he thought. The mystery that was his life. And the grace that was his death.
As he started at him, he felt a sudden twinge inside of him, an emotion that he had not experienced in so long. Hurt. He was hurt. He would not blame him, it was one of his greatest accomplishments he felt that he had keept this a secret. So how could he be hurt if the person didn't even know how to hurt him?, He thought to himself. Baka, he wispered softly. Baka, baka, baka.
With a sigh, he turned away from him, trying to press the image of his figure into his mind, and once again picked up his pencil.
...
"So that was it. That was the final curtain call that night. I realized that all these feelings I had for girls, the apprehension, was not built out of some strange childhood fear, it was real. I finally had to confront the fact that I was gay."
"Of course I could not tell the others. Somehow, they had gained the impression that if you were gay you liked all men. How wrong. Being gay was much like being straight. You didn't like every girl you saw did you? Well, most people don't anyway. There are always the exceptions. No, you didn't like every guy on the street If you were gay. You had crushes just like any other person. And I soon realized, whether to my satisfation or dispare, I had one."
"I'm not quite sure when this started either. This was a more gradual thing. I just began to notice things about him, the way he talked, the manner in which he held things. His understanding of the world around him. He handled these things with such ease that my respect of him grew like (pardon the clique) a wildflower."
"I tried to stop, I knew what a terrible thing it would be if these feelings went any further, knew how painfull it would be, but I couldn't stop. It was like I was being drawn by a gigantic magnet and not even I could stop it. Pretty soon I realized, it was too late. I was in love."
...
The pencil silently dropped from his hand involentarely as he sighed, eyes closed. He wasn't sure what he felt, relief or hurt. That one line. That was the pit the blackness he felt inside him. The center of what he had had bottled up inside him.
He glanced again at his co-piolet. You don't know how much I've hurt to keep you from hurting he mouthed. Concience of being started at, the boy turned his head and stared right into his eyes.
He felt himself going stiff. He was sure the boy could read what he was thinking. See every black thought in his head. For a moment he was caught in the steady stare of his eyes. The eyes that he had loved in secret, but were now killing him.
With a quick twitch, the boy turned back to his letter. It was long, already on it's 9th page. How much can he say to her? He wondered. He saw her so much, It was kind of hard to avoid her. And even though the only exchanged a few words at each meeting, it was still something. He couldn't have keept that much from her, they seemed so close he thought enviously.
Sighing, this time almost invarably, he turned back to his letter. No turning back now, he thought. Once I've gotten this far, I feel as if I have to go on, I must.
...
"I was in love. (He wrote again) At first I didn't want to believe it. Couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that my life could have taken such a turn from what it had once been. I had been so happy before this, I thought. Or had I been happy? I couldn't tell. I was in such a turmoil inside."
"The black was inside again, only this time it was churning and it was no longer black, but an assortmant of different colors of the rainbow that all were black inside me. I felt sick. Dizzy. Nauseas...like I was going to throw up but knew I couldn't."
"Is this what love is like I thought weakly? Or just my distorted version? I decided on the latter. If it were anything different, I could tell him. Then it could be over good or bad. But this way...I could never tell...I knew his stand on people like me. Have seen him scoff them, laugh at them. He had even told me that he felt sick when he thought of them. No, I thought...he was my friend, tha'ts all I have of him. If I ever told him, I wouldn't even have that."
"No, I have to keep quiet...love quietly. That's the only way not to get hurt. The only way to live through this. Because I secretly hoped that this would all pass...that this was all a mistake. A terrible mistake like a nightmare. And everything could go back to normal."
...
But it never would, he thought to himself. Never. Nobody ever forgot there first love. And judging from the circumstances, it would be his only love. He looked at the clock. 10:24 minutes left before they reached there destination. The end of a long tiring journey.
He almost smiled. It was strange that he was so happy that it would end, but at the same time he was dreading it. Kind of ironic. But there was no turing back now. Litterally. The plane was set on autopoilet.
Better just enjoy the ride while I can I suppose he thought. And the first thing will be to do this-. He thougth as he tore the diary into little parts. Now nobody would ever know. He would go down as one of the best soldiers without a tarnish to his title.
They were right...he thought to himself. That did help clear up his thougths. He could think clearer now. And he knew what he had to do. A final confession. It would be the final relief. He looked at the clock again. 4:28 min. About four minutes left.
Guess I should be thinking my last thoughts. My last feelings. But what else is there. No one else ever entered my life perminently. Sure there were friends. And "loves" he thought with a shiver as he remembered a particualer girl who thought he had actually liked her and had protected her out of his love.
Baka. He thought. She should know I only protect people out of reflex and pity. Never love. If they want me to love them, they must earn it. Be worthy of it. He knew many people dissagreed on it. That they thought you should love another person just because they were human. Baka's...all of them.
2:19 min. Almost time. He wasn't scared persay. He couldn't really place the feeling he had. Just a dullness really. Not that it mattered anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. Except one thing. And that, he was about to do.
The mechanical sounding of the scientist was heard through out the cabin, asking them to please move to the shuttle. His heart began beating a little faster. All his fantisys were about to become reality. Finally.
Moving into the capsal which had been specifically designed for the 5 of them, he managed with just a few strange looks to arrange himself next to him.
...
The mechanical voice began counting down. The time was drawing closer. He felt a shiver of dread, and of relieve and he felt the shiver pass from him into his friend as if a common bond. He smiled inwardly to himself. Even the brief gesture was more rewarding than everything that had happened that fatefull night in the bar.
10...he glanced at the boy next to him. He looked so calm, so confident. Was he hidding his feelings too? Were they all hidding there feelings he thought abstractly?
...9...he began to sweat slightly as he thought about it. This wasn't like a mission, he thought to himself. This was different. The scientists had presented it to him as a mission, but it wasn't. It was just another one of their lies.
...8...7...6...the seconds were going past to fast he thought, it's too soon! He suddenly felt himself filled with the most powerfull emotion he had ever felt in his life. Stronger than love, stronger than hate, stronger than anything he could possibly imagine. It was the fierce longing to turn back, to go away. He didn't want to do this...oh, god, he didn't want to do this...don't make me, he thought in fear...
...5...he could really feel himself sweating now, both from nerves and the heat penetrating the shuttle.
...4...3...he began to pray to the god he had never prayed to before for courage. As if answering his prayer, the boy turned and offered a reassuring smile. He hesitently smiled back, relishing the look on the boy's face from seeing his expression.
...2...with a deep breath, he picked up the boy's hand and held it strongly noticing the boy's shocked expression. For a second he paniced, wondered if this wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe he should just let it go...but he ccouldn't. His body seemed to have taken control of him he thought in alarm. He couldn't release the boys hand. With this fact, he planned to depart on the scariest mission of his life...
...1...as the shuttle burst into flames from the heat from the sun it was rocketing tward, Heero looked steadly into Duo's eyes, and while leaning over to kiss his cheek wispered, "I love you."