Wu
A Gundam Wing Fanfic
by:
Sailor Seraphim
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters. If I did, the series would be chock-full of shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the the situations which occur in this fic. No warnings. Just a *touch* of angst. SPOILERS for Episode Zero and the whole TV series. I took a few liberties with Wufei's life though. Consider it artistic license.
Language check --
"Four": the number four, in Chinese AND Japanese can be used to mean death. Four is considered an unlucky number because if you say it angrily, or in a hurry, you could be calling death on someone.
"Chang Wu Ron": if I am translating correctly, "Wu Ron" means "Five Dragons." Quite appropriate for the head of the Dragon Clan.
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Wu.
Five.
Chang Wufei slowly blinked onyx eyes at the glowing red lights proclaiming the time on the clock sitting on the bedside table. Wufei sat up, stretching a bit as he did. He didn't even need to look at the clock to know what time it was. He had been waking up at this hour ever since arriving on Earth, the interruption of missions notwithstanding. It was a pattern for him, a part of the daily routine. It was something stable that he could hold onto, even if it was something as simple as waking up a five o' clock every morning. A quick scan of the room showed the figure of Heero Yuy slumbering in his own bed on the other side of the room. Wufei raised himself from his bed quietly, doing his best to not disturb the sleep of the other pilot. It was a rare day when the Japanese boy was not up before the Chinese boy, but Wufei knew that Heero had probably tumbled into bed a scant number of hours ago from a mission. He had been so quiet on entering that Wufei had not stirred from his light sleep. It was the least he could do to be equally as quiet when he left the room.
After attending to his morning ritual of brushing his teeth, washing his face and attending to the snarls that had gathered in his hair, Wufei let himself out of the safehouse and into the crisp pre- morning air. The surrounding area was quiet and Wufei preferred it that way. He knew that besides Heero, Duo, Trowa and Quatre were ensconced in the other bedroom sleeping. The five Gundam pilots rarely interacted with each other outside of missions, so having all of them at the same safehouse at one time was rather unsettling. Wufei was reminded of the old idiom of not putting all your eggs in one basket.
Settling himself, Wufei began moving through his forms.
Yet another part of his daily routine. Not only did the practice hone and sharpen his skills, keeping himself in fine form, but it allowed Wufei the time to allow his mind to wander and mull over such things as had not been completely addressed by his subconscious while he slept. In other words, Wufei thought a lot. It was a remnant of his scholarly days -- was it only a year ago that he had been an introverted, scholarly boy absorbed by his books? Surely Meiran had a lot to say about the way he chose to spend his days. Wufei frowned slightly. His days... his days... such trivial routine were all he had now. Besides his memories. They were all he had left. He was Chang Wufei, lone survivor of the L5 Colony. What was his life, but forfeit to the powers that be?
Wu.
Five.
The L5 Colonies. That interlaced, tightly-knit family that had been forced from Mother China because of their warrior ways. What foolishness was this, to seclude a people because their blood sang with the richness and depth of five thousand years of lore and tradition? The proud and noble Dragon Clan, who would not bend their ways to fit with the changing world, and thus were cast from it. Wufei carried that blood in his veins. He carried their life, their traditions, their life in his own body. He carried their name.
Wu.
Five.
He had been named for his father, Chang Wu Ron. He, the only son -- nay, the only child of the leader of the strongest family of the Dragon Clan. From birth Wufei had his destiny charted out for him. He would lead the Clan when he came of age, a burden he must carry alone after the deaths of his four other siblings to disease and accident and the whims of the gods. He would be the one to bring the almighty Dragon back to its homeland after almost an eternity of banishment. He would be the one to carry on his father's work, after Chang Wu Ron's untimely death, not five months after his son was born.
Wu.
Five.
He had been five years old when he had been taken from the arms of his mother to be raised in a way befitting He Who Would Lead the Clan. His five years of childish infancy and memory and days of warmth in the loving arms of his mother. That stately, beautiful woman with glossy black hair and eyes like jet. The woman who sang him to sleep when he feared ghosts and demons. The woman whose voice sometimes tickled the back of his mind as he brought justice to OZ with his Gundam. A woman whose face he could no longer clearly remember. The beautiful woman, goddess of his childhood, who had died five days after having her son ripped from her arms. They said that she had died of heartbreak from losing her husband and her son. They said that her ghost still haunted their old home.
Wu.
Five.
His home, his new life, consisted of five rooms. Bedroom, Library, Training Room, Bath, and Enclosed Garden. It was in these five rooms that Wufei spent his years, being taught and tutored. It was not seclusion, he was free to roam where he wanted, he *was* the heir of the Dragon Clan after all. The L5 Colonies were his land to discover. But Wufei rarely went far from these five rooms. They surrounded and comforted him, in lieu of the arms of the woman he was learning to forget. But, in the place of the beautiful woman with eyes of jet was a girl with a temper like fire.
Wu.
Five.
Wufei had been married to Long Meiran for five months. Five months had they been husband and wife, married by tradition at the age of thirteen. It had been the day of his ascension from Heir of the Dragon Clan to Leader Apparent. Five months with Meiran as his wife, with all the duties and responsibilities inherent to that position. Five months together and he had known her for ten altogether. And he had not liked her for even one of those many days. Long Meiran, she of the glossy black hair and ebony eyes who could not stand living with a husband so different from herself. She was full of passion and spirit -- truly a Child of the Dragon -- with enough fire in her for those twice her size, though she stood only five feet tall if she stretched. And it seemed that Meiran berated him at least five times a day for his complacent attitude.
"What is the use of books on honor and justice if you do not fight yourself to bring our Clan back to its glory?!"
Five times a day.
Wu.
Five.
And who did he fight for? His Colony was gone, sacrificing itself to protect him. Did he fight only to appease those ghosts and memories which haunted him? Five. There were only five that he fought for. The only five which were important to him.
One. The L5 Colonies, the only home he had known and now could never return to.
Two. Father, Chang Wu Ron, he of the unwavering ideals and judicious spirit.
Three. Mother, she of the glossy black hair and eyes of jet.
Four. Wife, Long Meiran, she of the indomitable spirit and fiery passion, the girl-woman he could have loved.
Five. Himself, Chang Wufei, he who carried on his shoulders the memories and hopes and dreams and justice of a Clan that he would *not* allow to be forgotten with the passing of history.
That was all he fought for. It was enough.
And now, the present where he was yet again one of five. And what was he amongst these other boys, so young and so old, like him? Only fifteen and they were waging a war with the world.
What was it like to be One? To be the Only? How did Heero Yuy live with himself, secluded and sequestered from the rest of the world? In him burned a fire that could scorch the world, yet it was kept in check by his years of training and denial. Was it lonely, Wufei wondered, to watch the world pass by you through shuttered eyes? To believe that you were nothing, and indispensable soldier whose failure meant death? For One the only rule was Perfection. Was that what it was like to be One?
Would Two be any better? Duo Maxwell, whose sunny smiles and easy nature were carefully crafted to hide the Shinigami beneath, ready and waiting to scream out his anger and grief at the world? What had changed Duo, to cause him to stop being one and become Two? Could he truly balance both, or would he end up losing his mind to the demons which haunted him behind his violet eyes?
What was Three? Was Three not madness, to be yourself and someone else, and yet another? Wufei could see the three faces of Trowa Barton if he was inclined to look. One was the Trowa the pilots knew, stoic and quiet soldier, piloting HeavyArms with deadly grace. Second was the Trowa Barton that lived a quiet life at the circus, basking in the warmth of his sister and relating only to the animals he cared for. The third Trowa was elusive, always hiding from sight, afraid to be seen. Nothing was known of *him.* So Trowa was Three, but was it better than One or Two? How could anyone decide between a life of battle, the razor-edge of a knife, and the anonymity of nothingness?
And the life of Four, was it the same? Quatre Raberba Winner, golden boy-child, an Heir Apparent to rival Wufei's own status. What had persuaded Quatre to abandon his life of ease and comfort to face death in the front lines with his SandRock? And why Four? Why was Quatre Four, the deadliest and most avoided number? What could ever drive the blond boy to turn against his very nature and ways? Could he so easily become his own opposite because it already lurked in the darkest recesses of his heart? Was the smiling, gentle-souled Quatre Raberba Winner to fall to his own devices and become Four? Would he be death? Was it insanity?
Wufei made Five. He smiled bitterly. Five. His life was surrounded by Five. Would he be rules thusly, a slave to consequence and Fate? Could he break what was destined? Could he break free of Five and become himself alone? Did he even want to?
Wu.
Five.
Wu.
Five.
Wu.
Five.
Wu.
Wu.
"WU!"
Onyx eyes blinked open and were met by violet.
"Man, Wu! I've been calling you for five minutes! Trowa's got breakfast is ready if ya want it. I think Quatre even managed to get a hold of that tea you like so much. Oh, and Heero's out monitoring the comm for instructions. Looks like a mission for all five of us. Lucky we're all together, ne?" The braided boy paused in his talk, looking curiously over his shoulder. "Hurry up, Wu! We're gonna miss the food!"
Wu.
Five.
Chang Wufei allowed himself to small slightly at Duo's impatience. He straightened his stance and stretched out now-limber muscles. "I'm right behind you, Duo."
"Good, 'cuz it wouldn't be right without all five of us at the table!"
"For once, I agree with you."
- Owari -
A Gundam Wing Fanfic
by:
Sailor Seraphim
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters. If I did, the series would be chock-full of shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the the situations which occur in this fic. No warnings. Just a *touch* of angst. SPOILERS for Episode Zero and the whole TV series. I took a few liberties with Wufei's life though. Consider it artistic license.
Language check --
"Four": the number four, in Chinese AND Japanese can be used to mean death. Four is considered an unlucky number because if you say it angrily, or in a hurry, you could be calling death on someone.
"Chang Wu Ron": if I am translating correctly, "Wu Ron" means "Five Dragons." Quite appropriate for the head of the Dragon Clan.
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Wu.
Five.
Chang Wufei slowly blinked onyx eyes at the glowing red lights proclaiming the time on the clock sitting on the bedside table. Wufei sat up, stretching a bit as he did. He didn't even need to look at the clock to know what time it was. He had been waking up at this hour ever since arriving on Earth, the interruption of missions notwithstanding. It was a pattern for him, a part of the daily routine. It was something stable that he could hold onto, even if it was something as simple as waking up a five o' clock every morning. A quick scan of the room showed the figure of Heero Yuy slumbering in his own bed on the other side of the room. Wufei raised himself from his bed quietly, doing his best to not disturb the sleep of the other pilot. It was a rare day when the Japanese boy was not up before the Chinese boy, but Wufei knew that Heero had probably tumbled into bed a scant number of hours ago from a mission. He had been so quiet on entering that Wufei had not stirred from his light sleep. It was the least he could do to be equally as quiet when he left the room.
After attending to his morning ritual of brushing his teeth, washing his face and attending to the snarls that had gathered in his hair, Wufei let himself out of the safehouse and into the crisp pre- morning air. The surrounding area was quiet and Wufei preferred it that way. He knew that besides Heero, Duo, Trowa and Quatre were ensconced in the other bedroom sleeping. The five Gundam pilots rarely interacted with each other outside of missions, so having all of them at the same safehouse at one time was rather unsettling. Wufei was reminded of the old idiom of not putting all your eggs in one basket.
Settling himself, Wufei began moving through his forms.
Yet another part of his daily routine. Not only did the practice hone and sharpen his skills, keeping himself in fine form, but it allowed Wufei the time to allow his mind to wander and mull over such things as had not been completely addressed by his subconscious while he slept. In other words, Wufei thought a lot. It was a remnant of his scholarly days -- was it only a year ago that he had been an introverted, scholarly boy absorbed by his books? Surely Meiran had a lot to say about the way he chose to spend his days. Wufei frowned slightly. His days... his days... such trivial routine were all he had now. Besides his memories. They were all he had left. He was Chang Wufei, lone survivor of the L5 Colony. What was his life, but forfeit to the powers that be?
Wu.
Five.
The L5 Colonies. That interlaced, tightly-knit family that had been forced from Mother China because of their warrior ways. What foolishness was this, to seclude a people because their blood sang with the richness and depth of five thousand years of lore and tradition? The proud and noble Dragon Clan, who would not bend their ways to fit with the changing world, and thus were cast from it. Wufei carried that blood in his veins. He carried their life, their traditions, their life in his own body. He carried their name.
Wu.
Five.
He had been named for his father, Chang Wu Ron. He, the only son -- nay, the only child of the leader of the strongest family of the Dragon Clan. From birth Wufei had his destiny charted out for him. He would lead the Clan when he came of age, a burden he must carry alone after the deaths of his four other siblings to disease and accident and the whims of the gods. He would be the one to bring the almighty Dragon back to its homeland after almost an eternity of banishment. He would be the one to carry on his father's work, after Chang Wu Ron's untimely death, not five months after his son was born.
Wu.
Five.
He had been five years old when he had been taken from the arms of his mother to be raised in a way befitting He Who Would Lead the Clan. His five years of childish infancy and memory and days of warmth in the loving arms of his mother. That stately, beautiful woman with glossy black hair and eyes like jet. The woman who sang him to sleep when he feared ghosts and demons. The woman whose voice sometimes tickled the back of his mind as he brought justice to OZ with his Gundam. A woman whose face he could no longer clearly remember. The beautiful woman, goddess of his childhood, who had died five days after having her son ripped from her arms. They said that she had died of heartbreak from losing her husband and her son. They said that her ghost still haunted their old home.
Wu.
Five.
His home, his new life, consisted of five rooms. Bedroom, Library, Training Room, Bath, and Enclosed Garden. It was in these five rooms that Wufei spent his years, being taught and tutored. It was not seclusion, he was free to roam where he wanted, he *was* the heir of the Dragon Clan after all. The L5 Colonies were his land to discover. But Wufei rarely went far from these five rooms. They surrounded and comforted him, in lieu of the arms of the woman he was learning to forget. But, in the place of the beautiful woman with eyes of jet was a girl with a temper like fire.
Wu.
Five.
Wufei had been married to Long Meiran for five months. Five months had they been husband and wife, married by tradition at the age of thirteen. It had been the day of his ascension from Heir of the Dragon Clan to Leader Apparent. Five months with Meiran as his wife, with all the duties and responsibilities inherent to that position. Five months together and he had known her for ten altogether. And he had not liked her for even one of those many days. Long Meiran, she of the glossy black hair and ebony eyes who could not stand living with a husband so different from herself. She was full of passion and spirit -- truly a Child of the Dragon -- with enough fire in her for those twice her size, though she stood only five feet tall if she stretched. And it seemed that Meiran berated him at least five times a day for his complacent attitude.
"What is the use of books on honor and justice if you do not fight yourself to bring our Clan back to its glory?!"
Five times a day.
Wu.
Five.
And who did he fight for? His Colony was gone, sacrificing itself to protect him. Did he fight only to appease those ghosts and memories which haunted him? Five. There were only five that he fought for. The only five which were important to him.
One. The L5 Colonies, the only home he had known and now could never return to.
Two. Father, Chang Wu Ron, he of the unwavering ideals and judicious spirit.
Three. Mother, she of the glossy black hair and eyes of jet.
Four. Wife, Long Meiran, she of the indomitable spirit and fiery passion, the girl-woman he could have loved.
Five. Himself, Chang Wufei, he who carried on his shoulders the memories and hopes and dreams and justice of a Clan that he would *not* allow to be forgotten with the passing of history.
That was all he fought for. It was enough.
And now, the present where he was yet again one of five. And what was he amongst these other boys, so young and so old, like him? Only fifteen and they were waging a war with the world.
What was it like to be One? To be the Only? How did Heero Yuy live with himself, secluded and sequestered from the rest of the world? In him burned a fire that could scorch the world, yet it was kept in check by his years of training and denial. Was it lonely, Wufei wondered, to watch the world pass by you through shuttered eyes? To believe that you were nothing, and indispensable soldier whose failure meant death? For One the only rule was Perfection. Was that what it was like to be One?
Would Two be any better? Duo Maxwell, whose sunny smiles and easy nature were carefully crafted to hide the Shinigami beneath, ready and waiting to scream out his anger and grief at the world? What had changed Duo, to cause him to stop being one and become Two? Could he truly balance both, or would he end up losing his mind to the demons which haunted him behind his violet eyes?
What was Three? Was Three not madness, to be yourself and someone else, and yet another? Wufei could see the three faces of Trowa Barton if he was inclined to look. One was the Trowa the pilots knew, stoic and quiet soldier, piloting HeavyArms with deadly grace. Second was the Trowa Barton that lived a quiet life at the circus, basking in the warmth of his sister and relating only to the animals he cared for. The third Trowa was elusive, always hiding from sight, afraid to be seen. Nothing was known of *him.* So Trowa was Three, but was it better than One or Two? How could anyone decide between a life of battle, the razor-edge of a knife, and the anonymity of nothingness?
And the life of Four, was it the same? Quatre Raberba Winner, golden boy-child, an Heir Apparent to rival Wufei's own status. What had persuaded Quatre to abandon his life of ease and comfort to face death in the front lines with his SandRock? And why Four? Why was Quatre Four, the deadliest and most avoided number? What could ever drive the blond boy to turn against his very nature and ways? Could he so easily become his own opposite because it already lurked in the darkest recesses of his heart? Was the smiling, gentle-souled Quatre Raberba Winner to fall to his own devices and become Four? Would he be death? Was it insanity?
Wufei made Five. He smiled bitterly. Five. His life was surrounded by Five. Would he be rules thusly, a slave to consequence and Fate? Could he break what was destined? Could he break free of Five and become himself alone? Did he even want to?
Wu.
Five.
Wu.
Five.
Wu.
Five.
Wu.
Wu.
"WU!"
Onyx eyes blinked open and were met by violet.
"Man, Wu! I've been calling you for five minutes! Trowa's got breakfast is ready if ya want it. I think Quatre even managed to get a hold of that tea you like so much. Oh, and Heero's out monitoring the comm for instructions. Looks like a mission for all five of us. Lucky we're all together, ne?" The braided boy paused in his talk, looking curiously over his shoulder. "Hurry up, Wu! We're gonna miss the food!"
Wu.
Five.
Chang Wufei allowed himself to small slightly at Duo's impatience. He straightened his stance and stretched out now-limber muscles. "I'm right behind you, Duo."
"Good, 'cuz it wouldn't be right without all five of us at the table!"
"For once, I agree with you."
- Owari -