Deafening Silence
By: Kyuketsuki
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.
Author's Notes: Thank Niki-chan for this hideous little bit of slop. It's all her fault. If she hadn't been nice enough to do the layout for my blog then we wouldn't have had a conversation about oxymorons, which inspired this... this pitiful excuse for anything of merit. It was written in, like, less than an hour, so that should be a hint as to its craptacular nature.
*****
The silence was oppressive. It weighed like a palpable thing in the air, strengthened by gravity until it took more force of will to stand than he had. So he stayed where he sat, shoulders slumped imperceptibly, waiting for something to drive him from his lull. Waiting for something to break the calm that howled like a gale against his ears.
It had been bearable at first. Perhaps even a bit relieving. Nothing to get in his way, anymore. Nothing underfoot but an occasional reminder. Even those were gone now, though, and with them had gone the last shreds of clutter. No more disorder, confusion, or noise.
Noise. That had been the thing he hated the most. Then it died and he rejoiced mutely. Now Silence hummed in the air--a great beast to tear him to ribbons and let him pool on the floor if he dared to regret. No regrets. Just getting through the day without thinking too much. Without searching for one last reminder he had over looked. Just one thing to drive back the quiet that had seeped into his life and taken over.
The beast growled. The air sung with it. Sharp and discordonant like metal grating against metal. Silence. Who knew that it could be so complete?
He let himself wonder if that was what the other heard now. When he left, leaving only reminders and washed out shadows of memories, had he gone to a place where Silence sang it's horrible song? Was he haunted by it the same way? Did it grow so large that the room swelled with each great breath, threatening to split along invisible seams? Was it so complete there that he could touch it? Could he run his hands along the grating surface of the beast and feel it's chill breath against his skin? Skin never meant to touch something so hideous. Skin that should have been armored against anything. Silence should never be able to touch him. The other should have been immune to its great hulking weight.
But Silence had a way of getting into the tightest of places and planting seeds that seeped away life until nothing could truly live. A battered existence since the other had gone. No one doubted it. They could see it in his eyes. Of maybe they could hear the silence. It loomed so large that he thought everyone must be able to catch its song if they listened just right.
No one was immune. Not even the other, and he was gone. He had left reminders, though. Guards against the Silence. But the reminders were gone now, too.
His shoulders fell a notch.
Shouldn't have gotten rid of the reminders. Should have kept them. Tokens to prove that the other had existed. Ethereal now. Faded like cream colored linen in the sun. So gently colored to begin with. Not meant for the harsh light at all but there nonetheless, too great of importance to move. It protected something else. A great sheet stretched over delicate life. The sun shone down and tore at it until it was in tatters. And now gone all together. Not even a shred to remind him of the other.
Another notch, as if on gears.
The silence swelled with his own breathing, stretched so thin that it could shatter at the faintest of touches. No strength left to do even that. He needed to sleep. The weight was pressing too hard. He feared he would suffocate it in. No strength even to get up and walk to the bed. Or perhaps just too close to the empty one. It had housed the other. Now it was cold, empty, covered with crisp linen sheets that haunted him like a grim specter.
Another notch. The last.
The weight pressed painfully against his chest, tugging at his heart, forcing it back against his ribs. A pain in his wrist. Normal now. Too young to be suffering from heart attacks. Not enough pain anyway. Yet the discomfort swelled like the silence itself, forcing a gasp of breath to fall pitifully from his lungs. No sound. He choked on the realization.
The Silence was too complete. He couldn't break it now if he wanted to. Another painful wrench at his heart. Another terrible realization. Too much. It was all too much. He could still picture the other, sitting on the bed with the crisp white linens, casually lounging. Naive to his own end, which came much too quickly. Unexpected. Too much pride. Too much pain. Too much of a coincidence. He had died in his Gundam, out in space, communications off. He had turned them off when he saw it. Didn't want them to hear his screams when the mobile dolls swarmed too thick for him to fight.
The Silence had been born then, out of the misery of space, which wasn't endless but filled to the brim with quiet. And now it was compacted in the small dorm room, pressing him to the wall in misery and filling space with the other's screams. Screams that were more painful to hear that the silence was to bear. He could handle the silence, if only for a bit longer. Long enough to discard any hint that the other had even existed. No more reminders. No more noise. Just the silence to keep him company.
He sobbed a broken effigy of a name, too dumb and stupid now to even realize when the silence retreated helplessly. He collapsed to the floor with the sudden loss, his bones jarring painfully. He paid it no mind. He didn't know anything but the sound of his own shattering identity, which scattered across the floor to invade the places where the reminders had been.
The End.
Like always, feedback is appreciated. Especially with this thing. It's a departure from my usual writing style and I'm interested to know if it's tolerable.