Smile Not In Words

Yang sighed, a beer can dangling lightly from his hand. It was almost empty, but enough remained that holding it up became tiring after a short while. With another sigh, he admitted that he was unable to finish even the small amount of beer left in the can.

"What's the matter, had enough?"Isamu asked, downing another can as he did.

"Geez, I guess my alcohol tolerance just isn't as good as yours."

Isamu's drunken laugh rang out, causing a few heads to turn. "I couldn't believe you were even of drinking age!"

"Hey! Don't underestimate me!" shot back Yang, sitting up resolutely and gulping the last of his can. He settled back into a hunched position, all strength gone from his muscles.

"Don't overdo yourself," warned Isamu, starting his fifth can. Yang just sighed.

Mere days ago, he never would have believed this possible, and yet, here he sat, guzzling beer next to Isamu in some unknown bar, celebrating and mourning. Yang knew that when Isamu had shown up at the hospital to invite him out for a drink, he had really wanted to invite Guld. The memory of the brave Zentraedi still rang true in their ears, and the thought of his liveliness just a few days earlier made his death that much more unbelievable. All the events seemed beyond belief.

All that remained were memories.

The memory freshest in Yang's mind was of his failure. He had failed Isamu when he was needed most. Instead of planting the virus in Sharon's network, the virus had been planted in him. In that instant, when Sharon reached out from the cockpit towards him, he knew he was weak. He broke under the influence of a fake, artificially-produced image.

Of course, of all present, he was probably the weakest to Sharon's charms. It was he who had been so determined to steal her, and when she came to him, finally, in the cockpit of the YF-19, he had been all to ready to embrace her. And it scared him.

Isamu's voice jolted Yang back to conciousness. "Whatcha thinking about?"

For a moment, Yang was tempted to shrug it off, but he couldn't. "Sharon."

Isamu said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"In the plane--Isamu . . . I'm sorry. I was weaker than I thought."

He saw Isamu's hand move, ready to knock the younger man on the head, but when his eyes closed, all he felt was a light tousling of his hair. "Isamu?" asked Yang, opening his eyes to gaze respectfully up at the pilot. The response was not in words, but in Isamu's understanding smile, and suddenly, Yang found it didn't really matter at all.