============================
Life without love: Chapter 1
A Gundam Wing fan fiction
============================
DISCLAIMERS: Gundam Wing belongs to whoever created it (I forgot the nameā¦) I took liberties with the story of Gundam Wing. First, this is presumed to have happened in a continuum where Endless Waltz did not take place. I gave Treize a sister and a family. I put shounen ai in for the Gundam pilots except one. I made Milliard run off with Noin but they didn't get married.
"Life without Love is like a tree without blossom and fruit. And love without Beauty is like flowers without scent and fruits without seeds...Life, Love, and Beauty are three persons in one, who cannot be separated or changed."
--Kahlil Gibran, "Vision"
Sunrise.
Only these moments of silence as the dawn breaks make me realize how wonderful it is to be alive in Earth. The dawn is full of eternal beauty, yet it is so ethereal as well. The ever changing sky only captures the dawn for a few moments, but it makes you wonder how often the dawn has passed by and how many people actually stopped to look at it in such a contrasting foreground of virgin snow and evergreen forest. The lush greenness of the forest and the scent of pine and other evergreens bring back the thought of how precious this life is. I only have one, not the proverbial nine lives of a cat. I feel a twinge of remorse for even thinking of destroying this world. But the almost destruction of this world let out the traits of people I had wanted to stress, the love for peace and the appreciation of this world. It had accomplished the goal I had aimed for, and so I am glad I had performed the role well. After a fashion.
The sky is tinged with amber and rose, melting into white at the horizon where the sun would surely herald another beautiful day. I have a few more minutes before the former Gundam pilots and others wake up and begin a bustling day of relaxation in the onsens and ski slopes of this mountain resort. And my sister Releena will arrive today at noon, coming from a peace conference in the Space Colonies she had participated in. As Minister Dorian, she has so many things to do, so many things to attend to, so many people to talk to. For peace. The War between Earth and the Space Colonies seemed ages ago...the rest have begun to live relatively normal lives, enjoying work or college, not dwelling in the memories of the past, but only looking forward to the future they could see in the horizon.
But for me everything seemed as if they had happened only yesterday...
Treize.
Somehow, I cannot help but think of all those moments we were friends while we were under the Federation. Friendships between a superior and an underling were rare, making ours seem all the more unusual and beautiful. After all, we had a similar background, as far as I could get from his sketchy background. It must have been fate that separated us then, before our friendship could develop into something more--permanent.
This generation finds no problem in having these kinds of--friendships. Four of the Gundam pilots are happy with what's going on...I'm happy for them that they found joy in their lives, no matter with whom. After all, it's too little than what they deserve after the harsh soldiers' lives they had to live. No matter if it's a trifle--unorthodox. The fifth--he cared more about his Gundam than for human companionship.
I'm glad we found this place for a week of vacation from the hectic city lives we now led. The young people were either working or studying college. We, the slightly older generation, had work everyday. Quatre had arranged for us all to meet anew and just hang around for a vacation. This was Winner property, after all. A lot of friendships and even enmities, no matter what sides we were in, had developed during the brief period we were all thrown together, and he had wanted to seize the chance for friendships to grow and enmities vanish. His relationship seems to be in order. Trowa and he shared the same room...and who knows what happens there. But then Duo and Heero did so too. I surely didn't expect those two to be more than friends, given Duo's radiant personality and Heero's--maybe I should call it reserve, for lack of a better term. But they were getting along fine as well. As well as two people with clashing personalities could anyway.
The door behind me opens, and the other perennial early riser walks out into the balcony. Noin takes the recliner on the other side of the balcony. She had on a pale blue sweater Cathrine had knitted as an early Christmas gift for her. I got a similar one as well, but mine was white with gray. On her sweater, a series of navy blue geometric shapes was worked in a line just under the midriff. She smiles at me as she crossed her jean encased legs, holding a steaming mug of cappuccino in both hands. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Lucrezia. Early again, I see." I take a seat on my recliner, turning away from the sunrise so I can focus on her and decent conversation.
"Yes." She takes a sip from her mug. "Sally and Cathrine said we might go skiing later. We asked the others if they'd want to come, but they all had plans or something else to do. Even Une wanted to go tobogganing rather than ski. I guess she wouldn't want to ski after yesterday. Want to come?"
"No. If I go skiing, I might end up skiing the whole day and forget to pick up Releena at the airport. I think I'll go read a book before that." I indicate the stack of hardbound books beside me. It was a part of the collection I took from my home in Sanque. She wrinkled up her nose at the titles she read.
"Les Miserables in Russian, Anna Karenina in French, Kahlil Gibran, as well as the Divine Comedy in Italian. This is not resting, this is work!"
"It's soothing. I'm planning to translate them into Japanese." There was an open notebook beside the books, filled with finely spaced kanji and kana script, nearly hiding the kanji dictionary under it.
"Um...o--kay. Whatever makes you happy."
"This makes me happy," I reply, a trifle irritated. I see the hurt look pass over her face, and regret my words. I again wonder what demon inside me prompted me to talk like that to her. Circumstances like these happened often when we were alone, and even I am getting uneasy at this repeating occurrence. She had been a friend to me all through these years, there was no reason to become angry with her. She was just expressing her distaste of my reading, nothing wrong with that, I told myself. She's a totally different person, she has her own tastes. No need to compare her to someone who is gone so long ago...
`Treize would certainly understand why I needed to read this.'
`No, don't think of Treize, think of something safe, something that wouldn't hurt! My mind screams. Like the mountain view, or even the peace of the Earth's countries. There is a lot of stuff that should get your attention right now. If you think of the past, think of White Fang, your sister, anything! Or think of the present, Sanque, or the peace talks. Just not Treize. Never Treize. Don't dwell on your loss anymore.
My loss?
I close my eyes, leaning on the seat. Noin takes the hint, and retreats back into the cabin. I pity her often as of late. There was no reason for her to be the target of my annoyance after all. She had believed in me back then. If I was to take up a cause she would believe in me now. She could become more than a friend, if I let it happen. She was an easy person to like, if not to love. Once we almost decided to marry, I don't remember why as I look back, but back then we even eloped. But I couldn't do this to her. I couldn't pretend I'd be able to love her. Up to now. Something stops me from letting myself feel anything more than camaraderie with her. Something that was related to the person who passed away three years ago, leaving me bereft.
Why do my thoughts go back to him repeatedly? The time I could have had with him is gone forever. Whatever happens I'm still alive and he was still dead. He was now part of the nexus of stardust in the skies. He has returned to where he belonged, for he was as glowing, as engaging as the bright glitter of the stars. Someone said a beautiful phrase like that in a book. That we should remember that we are also stardust. Nothing would change the fact I am alone, unless that phantom of darkness takes me away to his realm of cold silence.
It's not as if Treize and I were friends always. We often got to arguments, even about the most absurd things, though more often by philosophical and political issues. We fought for different sides, different ideals. He almost had me going for his side, until events changed my philosophy. He had charisma that made people listen to him. His flashing deep blue eyes spoke volumes whenever he undertook to speak in front of a crowd, as his voice shook with his conviction. I knew women could not resist him. Lady Une was one among the many who are willing to put their lives on the line for him. Late at night before I sleep, I used to wonder if they had been lovers. I don't know where they slept, anyway, underlings were not supposed to learn the quarters of their superiors. She was lucky then. She got a chance for her relationship with him to grow. I did not.
Not that I wanted to be his lover. He would not have let me, I'm sure.
But would he?
Would I have wanted that?
I don't want to think anything in those lines. Those are thoughts that should be kept under lock and key. A lot of the soldiers in the barracks were doing those stuff, sometimes because they didn't have any female companionship, and rarely because they actually fall in love with each other. Not me. I knew some soldiers had a sort of crush on me, but that wasn't important. I did not care for doing it back then. I was too full of things about dignity and differences in rank and all those crap. Now I had no reason to care about it.
The smell of perking coffee reaches me, as well as the sound of batter fizzing on a frying pan. Quatre must be awake then, making breakfast. He always makes breakfast before the people from the main hotel ask what we would like for breakfast. Only late risers, a rarity among us, would have the hotel breakfast. Soon the others would be stirring as well. I'd better go in and fix myself something and then read in the balcony. It had become a retreat for me, where everyone knew implicitly they should not disturb me. Releena would land here around noon, and I was going to pick her from the airstrip. That left me the whole morning alone. As usual. Sighing, I step inside.
The warmth rushes and engulfs me, and the sight of Quatre frying blueberry pancakes as Trowa read the newspaper seemed so domestic, so right, that I felt like an outsider who had no right to see them like this. Quatre turns at the sound of the opening door, and smiles. "Good morning, Mr. Milliard. Do you want some pancakes? I can make some for you easily."
"No, thank you, Quatre. I'll just make a sandwich." He had grown into a kind and handsome young man, mature for his age, though his face still had a hint of faint girlishness. His soft blonde hair now touched the collar of his shirt, and brilliant ocean blue eyes brimmed with joy for everyone. He had taken a business course of some sort, or was it economics? No matter, he was now studying and garnering honors in his university.
"But I insist!" Quatre walks to Trowa with a plate of the newly made pancakes. "Here you go, Trowa. I'll just get the maple syrup."
"Thank you, Quatre." The look Trowa gives him made me turn to the fridge and get some orange juice, giving them a chance to give each other a morning kiss. When I turn back Quatre was pink, and Trowa had a satisfied look as he dug into the pancakes. These two were sweet enough to need no maple syrup. I lost all of my appetite to envy for their relationship, thought I mechanically eat from the plate Quatre set before me.
"Shouldn't you be getting ready to arrange matters with the Winner Foundation?" I inquire. Now that Quatre was head of their family's businesses I had expected him to become a very busy person.
He gives me one of his shy, sweet smiles, making him look younger than his age. "I do, but I have time enough to prepare breakfast for whoever is awake at this time." He takes a seat across the Heavy arms pilot, and proceed to eat as well. The moment passes in silence, then after he had raised his cup of coffee to his lips he start to speak again. "What are your plans for the whole day, Mr. Milliard? Releena is coming in today, isn't she?"
"Yes. I'll pick up Releena in the airport at noon. There was no need to offer to send a private plane for her, Quatre. She has her own. Or a Sanque plane could pick her up. And you know she'd not agree, taking a flight from the local airline."
"Quatre would insist she take his plane, at any rate," Trowa replies, folding up the newspaper and taking another forkful of pancake. He had shortened the hair falling to his handsome face, for his convenience. Though
his green eyes were still partly hidden, he can now easily flick it to one side. His taste in clothing is still the same as in earlier years, and his turtleneck was a beautiful gray cashmere one that was Quatre's birthday gift for him. Only a part-time circus performer now, he has tried to specialize in illusions, setting up almost impossible escape tricks that still amazed me because I have no idea how he could do it. "And before you pick her up? Do you
plan to ski?"
"No, not this morning. Maybe this afternoon, so Releena would have someone with her on the slopes."
"Surely all your plans don't figure with Releena?" Quatre jokes. "Releena might want to be alone with her new friend..."
"Oh, you mean Hitoshi, the Japanese exchange student from the Space Colonies. I have met him already, and I think Releena will be fine with him. Well, if she wants to be unbothered by her older brother I can always read Les Miserables."
"I think we have best set you up with someone. You need to enjoy the slopes. That's why we're here, at any rate." Trowa looks at his watch. "Well, seems like I'd better hurry up. I'm going to pick up our stuff from town."
"I'll be coming with you." Quatre makes a move to stand up but Trowa stops him by a hand on the shoulder.
"Oh no, finish your breakfast, Quatre. Can't let you get thin, you know." He gently pats Quatre's shoulder and leaves. Quatre smiles at me.
"Trowa is always in a hurry. He got used to it when he was in the circus."
"So I guessed." Silence anew, and I wait until Trowa was out of earshot. I clear my throat. "Quatre, can I ask you something?"
"What?" Those trusting blue eyes are now directed to me, his fork hovering forgotten in midair. I understood why Trowa always protected him, why he called Quatre his precious angel when they were alone and thought no one could hear them. I feel like I'm about to shatter a piece of finely spun glass, if I go on speaking about what was on my mind.
I am going to ask him how it was to be loved.
I weigh my words. I don't know how he would react, whether he would rebuff me for the rather personal question I am going to ask. But having no experience at all in this matter, it would be best if I ask him. Duo and Heero are out of the question. Duo would graphically explain everything for hours, whether it was a reply to the question or not, and Heero would tell me to mind my own business, and at worst he'd have a gun pointing to my neck. Trowa would simply refuse to answer, but to ask Quatre was too dangerous...he was inherently gentle and fine, and I didn't know if he'd be saddened by the news that I knew.
I don't know if Quatre is under the delusion that others thought he and Trowa were just good friends, and I don't know if the others thought they were that, but I didn't. I was aware of what they were to each other, just by each touch they made, each word they spoke to each other, and each smile they shared. And I envy them for the happiness they had.
"It's rather--personal..."
"Is it about Trowa and me?"
My head shoots up, and I see he is still smiling. The fact that he brought it up himself reassures me. I'm now sure I can ask anything, as long as it wasn't too nosy or too perverse to think about asking.
"Quatre, how does it feel to have someone--like Trowa?"
His smile gets a contented look at it, and he is looking far from uncomfortable, not at all self-conscious. His eyes are directed to a distance. "Trowa is simply wonderful. I do not know how to explain it. We just connect to each other easily. When I need him he is always there, and he protects me as no one had protected me. I know that he is the haven I will need all of my life." His gaze returns to me. "Love is a feeling that spreads over your soul until you cannot live without it. It comes from a journey through what you need to prove it is between you. Whatever path it takes, whether full of joy or hardship, as long as it reaches its true end, and as long as you are willing to live through the whole thing, with the person by your side, that is love. You give and with every thing you give you reclaim an important part of yourself; your soul. To love, to live, those two things are interconnected. If I was asked to live without Trowa, I would die. If I was asked to sacrifice myself so Trowa will live, I will. We need each other that much--but I love him too much to see anything happen to him."
"Oh." I look down, and think if that is the reason why I don't want to live. Is it because Treize is now gone? Quatre looks at me with understanding.
"You miss him, don't you?"
"Whaa???"
"You miss Treize."
For someone younger than me to know what I was thinking was a surprise. I stare at him, my mouth dry. Quatre pours a cup of coffee and gives it to me. I slowly drink, more to hide my ashen face from his inquiring eyes than anything else. "Treize is a person with lots of charisma. And he has this effect on people that made others listen. Anyone with eyes could see that. That you miss a friend of yours like that is natural."
"A friend. Yes, he was a friend," I reply, almost thoughtfully. So Quatre thinks we were only friends, and to express hopes that it had been otherwise would be unusually loquacious of me. Or was it Quatre suspects something more, but did not wish to say anything? I cannot know. His blue eyes gives nothing away. I set the cup down. "I'd better finish my reading."
"But your pancakes..."
"I've eaten my fill. You are a good cook, Quatre. If I eat any more I will not be able to stand up." So saying, I head anew to the balcony. Quatre wishes me a good day and starts to clear the table.
"Clearing breakfast, Quatre? Already?" Duo's cheerful voice comes from the door, followed soon after by his appearance. "Hello, Mr. Milliard. Had some of Quatre's delicious pancakes?"
"Yes. Good morning, you two. Missed it again."
Duo doesn't look like he minded, especially with an arm draping over Heero's shoulder. They are looking-well --mischievous, and that is unusual. It's like they're planning something that wasn't good. At least for their target. And I can only think of one person who'd be one...
Quatre voices out my suspicions before I could. "I know Releena's coming from the Space Colonies today, Duo, and I hope you aren't planning anything bad." Quatre frowns at him when he tried to look innocent. "Anything even remotely mischievous is not allowed, okay?"
"Aye, aye, Quatre. We just wanted to set a welcome for her and her guest. After all, Heero and I are glad she could come."
Heero smiles at Duo, then seems to recollect himself. He starts to look as if he wanted to wish we were all out of the room, and I speculate why he didn't want anyone to know Duo was teaching him to cook. That is why they always pretend to wake up late. But I guess he doesn't want people to know Duo had talked him into doing something so domestic as cooking. After all, it'll ruin his image.
Image. Yeah, I used to think image was important. I guess I lost my vain streak. Somewhere along the road, I must have lost interest in what I appeared to be before people. After all, now I believe that people see only what they want to see, no matter how much you try not to show that side of you. Strange, that. I no think it was frivolous, thinking about how you appear to other people, when things that are more important must be remembered. People to love, nature to appreciate, friends to be with you, that is all that is important.
Heero looks from Duo to Quatre, and seem to make a decision. He set his chin more firmly, anyway. "Where are the blueberries?"
Quatre's amazed to say the least. "Blueberries?"
"Yeah, blueberries. For pancakes." His short explanation amazes Quatre further, and Duo steps in, grinning at Heero's suddenly flushed face.
"We were going to make our breakfast, Quatre. I wanted blueberry pancakes, just like the ones you make, and Heero--er--volunteered to cook some, for me."
Our breakfast. How right that "our" sounded in the sentence. It seems I would always be hit by envy when it comes to these pilots. They had someone, while I didn't. When he was gone for a long, long time...
Suddenly, I don't want to see another blueberry pancake again.
Ten fifteen.
It seems almost like an eternity, the few hours I spend reading. Now Les Miserables lies between my fingers, unread. Even the romance of Marius and Cosette fail to capture my imagination. All I want to do is to think about the past. People say I've changed, that I dwell too much in the past, that I should look into the future. But I can't. I always remember that this future does not involve the person I think I want to be with. And I curse my luck anew, because Marius and Cosette drove the thought home: I need love. Just pure, unconditional love, the kind you can only dream to have. The kind of love that saves.
I wonder if this kind of love existed. People think it does, but I haven't seen any sign of it. Most married couples I see fight, and the younger unmarried ones break up almost as easily as coming together. What did that leave me? The option to live with a woman like Noin, someone I can like but never love? Or dreaming of ghost who'll never come back to life?
The door opens anew, and this time it is Wu fei who comes out. His white coat was made of wool, a warm material. He smiles faintly and looks out on the mountains. "Good morning," he says, nodding at my direction. I greet him as well.
I must admit, I do not feel comfortable in his presence. When I remember that he is the reason why Treize is dead, that he killed Treize while on board Epyon, when I think how lonely I feel...sometimes I want to run away from this Chinese pilot's presence. Other times I want to kill him. I don't know whether I should trust him or whether I should treat him as an enemy. I stare at his black ponytail, thinking of words to drive him away.
"I won't vanish, you know," he abruptly says, and he turns his head. I raise my eyes to meet his mocking ones. "I just wanted to enjoy the view, nothing wrong with that, right?"
"Yes, of course. I do not own this balcony. You have every right to be here." I know I sounded sarcastic, but I couldn't help it. He makes me freeze with something that was half-hatred, half-pity. The hatred part for killing Treize and leaving me in this limbo, the pity part coming from being so emotionless. I'd rather have this limbo than being encased in ice. I flip open the until then forgotten book on my lap.
"We've started to call this Milliard's balcony, you know," he comments. "The only thing you need here is a person to play the part of Romeo and we can do the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet."
He has faced me, and he seems to be part of the landscape, the white snow, the black ebony of the balcony railing, and the cool expression on his face. He must have been carved from the same ice in the North Pole, or Siberia. Makes me wonder if he ever loved anything more than the clinical affection he had for his Gundam.
"Thank you. When I start casting for a Romeo you will head my list." I may sound a little too sarcastic, but I was dazed with something. I don't know what he knew, I don't know what he could do. Of all the Gundam pilots, he is the most unreadable. He turns to face me, leaning lightly on the balcony railing. He smiles again.
"I think Treize would suit better, right?" There is a mock-innocent twinkle in his eye. I freeze. "He is strong, a good fighter. He is one to admire, Milliard. Also, he can memorize the lines better than I can. Am I correct?"
`Liar,' I thought. He was a scholar. What kind of scholar would be bad at memory work? "Now why should you ask me that?" I parry. I know where this talk was leading, and I don't want it to go there. I stand up and make noises of leaving.
"Leaving me alone to meditate? Or running away from yourself?" He turns back to the mountains. Silence descends on us. "I think you just don't want to admit what the others have admitted already."
"I have nothing to admit." I'm nearly quaking, I know, but what he had said injured my pride. I not admit I loved Treize? I have admitted it to myself a long time ago, and at the same time, I damn myself for it. I wait for him to continue.
"I had a wife, you know. A long time ago." His gaze remains on the pine trees in the distance as his voice softens. "We never got the chance to get to know each other properly. I still regret we haven't. It was an arranged marriage between her and me, something about family honor and the like...if she was alive, I wonder if I would have become a Gundam pilot. I called my Gundam Shen Long, if you could recall. Meiran...my wife--she would have loved that name, she would have loved to pilot that hunk of metal. I was a scholar, and I know, it seemed strange, but in our family, I was the only scholar, and I don't know whether it was a good thing or bad thing. But I married Meiran, and that was why--" He turned away and leaned against the balcony, his eyes soft with emotion I couldn't identify.
"Our life together was so short. Maybe we'd have done better not to fight all the time, but it was our way to settle differences, and it was fun, the making up after. It was the first time I met a girl who seemed to be more a man than a woman, with her own fire, her own mind. And she would not let me stay in the house reading. She'd take me out, to look at the parks, to enjoy, so much...so much...I'd not have wanted to pilot that Gundam, in fact, if my wife--"
Of all the Gundam pilots, it was only Wu fei who did not reveal his emotions. Heero knew the idea of mission and duty to a point near machine- like acuity. I don't think being manic is an emotion, but it is a sign of caring for something. Duo loved to make life fun for everyone around him. It was the American in him, I guess. Quatre was gentle and held a certain kind of energy in check, all the time. He cared for everyone, and was probably the most motherly of all the guys I have met. Trowa was cool and calm, and always his actions were planned, but all four turned into fighters the moment they step into their Gundam. Wu fei...Wu fei only had sarcasm and hate for everyone he met. It was strange for a young person to reveal that amount of hate, especially for Treize.
"But you--you piloted Shen Long."
"I became a Gundam pilot so as to be able to live in her dream."
"Oh."
My mind's in turmoil. I had always thought of Wu fei as cold. I must admit that. But this...I didn't know he had loved, that he could love. Somehow I found him more--approachable after finding that out. But I can't forget that easily. I'm not a fool to think I'll ever forgive him for letting Treize die. No, for killing Treize.
Though I think we could even be friends.
"Why?"
My question was to the point. I have to know why he wanted to kill Treize.
"He didn't withdraw the troops soon enough. That decision caused me my wife."
"She fought the troops sent to your colony?"
"She was the first to charge up to them. She was also one of the first to die." His eyes are filled with bitter memories. I sense he was reliving the anguish he had felt then, and keep silent. It is obvious he loved her enough to be thinking to die was better than living. He knew that in death he would find Meiran, and so chased that thing, that release to be with the one he loved.
That's why he didn't care what happened to him, whether he lived or died.
I pity him.
"What do we have here?" His eyes strays at the pile of books on the chair beside mine. He touches Les Miserables reverently. "I didn't know there was a copy here... it's been a long time since I've read this. Hello, Valjean, Javert." His accent made the names sound strange.
"If you want, you can read it."
"I haven't seen a copy of this since--since--a long time ago." His voice becomes choked. I know he wants to say "--since Meiran was alive." but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. Not in front of me. Probably not in front of anyone. Yet.
"I know of a bookshop which specializes in these kinds of books. Most are good editions that can be called antiques in their own right. Why don't you read this? I've read it through a couple of times. But aren't you going skiing with Sally and the others?"
"I'd prefer to read this to that infernal sport they call skiing."
I grin. I heard of his fiasco on the slopes, and I didn't want to tease him about it, more out of consideration for myself than for him. He can get mighty touchy sometimes. And that was bad for anyone in his vicinity.
"Go, take it and read it for a while. It'll be your excuse to not go skiing."
He picks it up and silently left. I wonder more about his wife. He mentioned her name. Meiran. An amazing woman, to have made a stubborn person like Wu fei fall in love with her and admit it to anyone at all. He had mellowed a lot from the years, so different from the taciturn young man I knew before. Maybe it wasn't just me who've changed. Maybe all of us changed because of that war. Maybe all of us became better for it.
I'd better get ready to drive to the airport or not be able to pick up Releena.
I sit alone in the waiting area, bored as I read a newspaper discarded by someone. I could see why Quatre asked me if I was going so soon as I left. Luckily my driving slowly lengthened my travel time. I have a good ten minutes wait for the plane. Well, it was nice to watch families off for a holiday crowding in the waiting area. Nice, but I feel a depressing ache deep inside me. I can never have a family, a complete one. Releena was there, but I will not see her again for a long time after this. She's busy too, up in the Space Colonies while I had things to do in Sanque.
"Mr. Zechs Merquise?"
I turn when I hear someone call my by my old name. I had discarded it along with traces of my old life. I also had stopped wearing my hair loose, keeping it braided back. I'm even considering cutting it. I know people looked at me, for my pale hair was striking. But I did not expect to be accosted by a stranger, staring fixedly at me.
The stranger 's a young woman, with brown hair bleached to blond by staying long under the sun. She's poised and tall, her bearing that of the old aristocracy. There was a sharpness in her features, but not enough to make her look pinched. Instead she appears--elegant. The warmly piled cashmere sweater and tailored black jacket bespoke of a name designer. And her thick light brown hair fell in rich waves over her shoulders.
But it's her eyes, her deep blue eyes beneath unusual eyebrows that shocks me to silence.
Treize's eyes.
"I guess you have no idea who I am," she states, a bit amused by my shock. "Or you see a resemblance I know shocks you. I am Ewizge Engel Ivanvova Khushrenada, Treize's sister. I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Merquise."
"Sister?" I didn't know he had a sister.
"Treize must have forgotten to mention us to you. Strange, when he could only talk about you when he sees us. I surprised you by my name. It is a trifle too hard on people when they hear it; it's a mouthful. Please, call me Angel, it's so much easier for people to pronounce." And she smiles. Had I not believed her to be Treize's sister I would have believed her when I saw that charming, charismatic smile slowly forming on her lips. It was Treize's to life.
"I am please to meet you, Miss Khushrenada. Alone?"
"No. My parents are actually there, waiting for me to bring you over to them. Would you please humor them? They'd want to see you. We've heard a lot about you from Treize, Mr. Merquise."
"What have you heard?"
"Oh, you know..." She suddenly looks like a young girl facing her brother's college friends. I smile. "What a great soldier you are, that kind of stuff. Anyway, I'm sure you've heard yourself described that way countless times. Are you on vacation too?"
"Yes. I am staying with some of my friends in a cabin owned by Quatre Winner. I am to meet my sister here. She's coming from the Space Colonies."
"Oh, Minister Dorian. He told us about her too. Interesting, how he seemed to like both of you immensely. Maybe because both of you are so stubborn. He is as well."
Is--I noticed. Maybe to them Treize was not yet dead, maybe to them Treize still lives in their memories, just as he did in mine. I feel an immediate bond spring up with his family, for despite the fact I just met one of them today, they also react to their loss as I do. I must have looked preoccupied, because she spoke up again.
"Please, would you join us, Mr. Merquise? We are also waiting for the flight from the Space Colonies to Earth."
"I go by my real name now. I am called Milliard Peacecraft now."
"Then forgive me for calling you Mr. Merquise, Mr. Peacecraft. It's just that it had become a habit because of hearing you being called that by Treize."
"That is all right. Your parents--?"
"I think they got tired of waiting for us. Here they are. Mama, papa, I was right! It is Mr. Merquise, but he is called Milliard Peacecraft now."
I turn to see an elegant couple that wore their age well. The man had the same look as Treize, and though his hair was now more silver than black, it was striking to look at him. The woman was more approachable, cast in the same mold as Lady Une, only that she smiled more often and had kind blue eyes. I see that she was the one from whom Treize and Angel got their unusual eyes. "I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Khushrenada, madam."
"And so are we, Mr. Peacecraft," the man replied.
"So you are the young man Treize always talks about." Mrs. Khushrenada fairly beams at me. "I see you are as handsome as your pictures, Mr. Peacecraft."
I wonder where they saw my pictures. I was as a rule camera-shy. Angel turns to me. "Yes, you do look exactly like your pictures. My older brother would like to meet you too, I'm sure, when he gets here, that is. He's due any minute now. In fact, we're waiting for the same flight you are because he's in the same flight as Minister Dorian."
"Brother? Treize--"
"There he is! Hey!" Angel suddenly runs towards the arrivals gate, where my sister is now standing with a slim young man in a dark blue woolen coat- that was Hitoshi--and a tall, lean man. He was dressed in slacks and a long black coat, closing down the front with cloth covered buttons, collar lined with sable. Everything melted behind this man. The scene is blurred behind him. I don't even glance at my sister. He is looking at me with dark blue eyes.
I must be in a dream. Or a nightmare.
He is coming towards me. He extends his hand out, taking mine in it. I can only stare at him helplessly as I feel the solid warmth of his hand engulf mine through our gloves. "Hello, Zechs," says a well-remembered voice.
Treize was alive.
Life without love: Chapter 1
A Gundam Wing fan fiction
============================
DISCLAIMERS: Gundam Wing belongs to whoever created it (I forgot the nameā¦) I took liberties with the story of Gundam Wing. First, this is presumed to have happened in a continuum where Endless Waltz did not take place. I gave Treize a sister and a family. I put shounen ai in for the Gundam pilots except one. I made Milliard run off with Noin but they didn't get married.
"Life without Love is like a tree without blossom and fruit. And love without Beauty is like flowers without scent and fruits without seeds...Life, Love, and Beauty are three persons in one, who cannot be separated or changed."
--Kahlil Gibran, "Vision"
Sunrise.
Only these moments of silence as the dawn breaks make me realize how wonderful it is to be alive in Earth. The dawn is full of eternal beauty, yet it is so ethereal as well. The ever changing sky only captures the dawn for a few moments, but it makes you wonder how often the dawn has passed by and how many people actually stopped to look at it in such a contrasting foreground of virgin snow and evergreen forest. The lush greenness of the forest and the scent of pine and other evergreens bring back the thought of how precious this life is. I only have one, not the proverbial nine lives of a cat. I feel a twinge of remorse for even thinking of destroying this world. But the almost destruction of this world let out the traits of people I had wanted to stress, the love for peace and the appreciation of this world. It had accomplished the goal I had aimed for, and so I am glad I had performed the role well. After a fashion.
The sky is tinged with amber and rose, melting into white at the horizon where the sun would surely herald another beautiful day. I have a few more minutes before the former Gundam pilots and others wake up and begin a bustling day of relaxation in the onsens and ski slopes of this mountain resort. And my sister Releena will arrive today at noon, coming from a peace conference in the Space Colonies she had participated in. As Minister Dorian, she has so many things to do, so many things to attend to, so many people to talk to. For peace. The War between Earth and the Space Colonies seemed ages ago...the rest have begun to live relatively normal lives, enjoying work or college, not dwelling in the memories of the past, but only looking forward to the future they could see in the horizon.
But for me everything seemed as if they had happened only yesterday...
Treize.
Somehow, I cannot help but think of all those moments we were friends while we were under the Federation. Friendships between a superior and an underling were rare, making ours seem all the more unusual and beautiful. After all, we had a similar background, as far as I could get from his sketchy background. It must have been fate that separated us then, before our friendship could develop into something more--permanent.
This generation finds no problem in having these kinds of--friendships. Four of the Gundam pilots are happy with what's going on...I'm happy for them that they found joy in their lives, no matter with whom. After all, it's too little than what they deserve after the harsh soldiers' lives they had to live. No matter if it's a trifle--unorthodox. The fifth--he cared more about his Gundam than for human companionship.
I'm glad we found this place for a week of vacation from the hectic city lives we now led. The young people were either working or studying college. We, the slightly older generation, had work everyday. Quatre had arranged for us all to meet anew and just hang around for a vacation. This was Winner property, after all. A lot of friendships and even enmities, no matter what sides we were in, had developed during the brief period we were all thrown together, and he had wanted to seize the chance for friendships to grow and enmities vanish. His relationship seems to be in order. Trowa and he shared the same room...and who knows what happens there. But then Duo and Heero did so too. I surely didn't expect those two to be more than friends, given Duo's radiant personality and Heero's--maybe I should call it reserve, for lack of a better term. But they were getting along fine as well. As well as two people with clashing personalities could anyway.
The door behind me opens, and the other perennial early riser walks out into the balcony. Noin takes the recliner on the other side of the balcony. She had on a pale blue sweater Cathrine had knitted as an early Christmas gift for her. I got a similar one as well, but mine was white with gray. On her sweater, a series of navy blue geometric shapes was worked in a line just under the midriff. She smiles at me as she crossed her jean encased legs, holding a steaming mug of cappuccino in both hands. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Lucrezia. Early again, I see." I take a seat on my recliner, turning away from the sunrise so I can focus on her and decent conversation.
"Yes." She takes a sip from her mug. "Sally and Cathrine said we might go skiing later. We asked the others if they'd want to come, but they all had plans or something else to do. Even Une wanted to go tobogganing rather than ski. I guess she wouldn't want to ski after yesterday. Want to come?"
"No. If I go skiing, I might end up skiing the whole day and forget to pick up Releena at the airport. I think I'll go read a book before that." I indicate the stack of hardbound books beside me. It was a part of the collection I took from my home in Sanque. She wrinkled up her nose at the titles she read.
"Les Miserables in Russian, Anna Karenina in French, Kahlil Gibran, as well as the Divine Comedy in Italian. This is not resting, this is work!"
"It's soothing. I'm planning to translate them into Japanese." There was an open notebook beside the books, filled with finely spaced kanji and kana script, nearly hiding the kanji dictionary under it.
"Um...o--kay. Whatever makes you happy."
"This makes me happy," I reply, a trifle irritated. I see the hurt look pass over her face, and regret my words. I again wonder what demon inside me prompted me to talk like that to her. Circumstances like these happened often when we were alone, and even I am getting uneasy at this repeating occurrence. She had been a friend to me all through these years, there was no reason to become angry with her. She was just expressing her distaste of my reading, nothing wrong with that, I told myself. She's a totally different person, she has her own tastes. No need to compare her to someone who is gone so long ago...
`Treize would certainly understand why I needed to read this.'
`No, don't think of Treize, think of something safe, something that wouldn't hurt! My mind screams. Like the mountain view, or even the peace of the Earth's countries. There is a lot of stuff that should get your attention right now. If you think of the past, think of White Fang, your sister, anything! Or think of the present, Sanque, or the peace talks. Just not Treize. Never Treize. Don't dwell on your loss anymore.
My loss?
I close my eyes, leaning on the seat. Noin takes the hint, and retreats back into the cabin. I pity her often as of late. There was no reason for her to be the target of my annoyance after all. She had believed in me back then. If I was to take up a cause she would believe in me now. She could become more than a friend, if I let it happen. She was an easy person to like, if not to love. Once we almost decided to marry, I don't remember why as I look back, but back then we even eloped. But I couldn't do this to her. I couldn't pretend I'd be able to love her. Up to now. Something stops me from letting myself feel anything more than camaraderie with her. Something that was related to the person who passed away three years ago, leaving me bereft.
Why do my thoughts go back to him repeatedly? The time I could have had with him is gone forever. Whatever happens I'm still alive and he was still dead. He was now part of the nexus of stardust in the skies. He has returned to where he belonged, for he was as glowing, as engaging as the bright glitter of the stars. Someone said a beautiful phrase like that in a book. That we should remember that we are also stardust. Nothing would change the fact I am alone, unless that phantom of darkness takes me away to his realm of cold silence.
It's not as if Treize and I were friends always. We often got to arguments, even about the most absurd things, though more often by philosophical and political issues. We fought for different sides, different ideals. He almost had me going for his side, until events changed my philosophy. He had charisma that made people listen to him. His flashing deep blue eyes spoke volumes whenever he undertook to speak in front of a crowd, as his voice shook with his conviction. I knew women could not resist him. Lady Une was one among the many who are willing to put their lives on the line for him. Late at night before I sleep, I used to wonder if they had been lovers. I don't know where they slept, anyway, underlings were not supposed to learn the quarters of their superiors. She was lucky then. She got a chance for her relationship with him to grow. I did not.
Not that I wanted to be his lover. He would not have let me, I'm sure.
But would he?
Would I have wanted that?
I don't want to think anything in those lines. Those are thoughts that should be kept under lock and key. A lot of the soldiers in the barracks were doing those stuff, sometimes because they didn't have any female companionship, and rarely because they actually fall in love with each other. Not me. I knew some soldiers had a sort of crush on me, but that wasn't important. I did not care for doing it back then. I was too full of things about dignity and differences in rank and all those crap. Now I had no reason to care about it.
The smell of perking coffee reaches me, as well as the sound of batter fizzing on a frying pan. Quatre must be awake then, making breakfast. He always makes breakfast before the people from the main hotel ask what we would like for breakfast. Only late risers, a rarity among us, would have the hotel breakfast. Soon the others would be stirring as well. I'd better go in and fix myself something and then read in the balcony. It had become a retreat for me, where everyone knew implicitly they should not disturb me. Releena would land here around noon, and I was going to pick her from the airstrip. That left me the whole morning alone. As usual. Sighing, I step inside.
The warmth rushes and engulfs me, and the sight of Quatre frying blueberry pancakes as Trowa read the newspaper seemed so domestic, so right, that I felt like an outsider who had no right to see them like this. Quatre turns at the sound of the opening door, and smiles. "Good morning, Mr. Milliard. Do you want some pancakes? I can make some for you easily."
"No, thank you, Quatre. I'll just make a sandwich." He had grown into a kind and handsome young man, mature for his age, though his face still had a hint of faint girlishness. His soft blonde hair now touched the collar of his shirt, and brilliant ocean blue eyes brimmed with joy for everyone. He had taken a business course of some sort, or was it economics? No matter, he was now studying and garnering honors in his university.
"But I insist!" Quatre walks to Trowa with a plate of the newly made pancakes. "Here you go, Trowa. I'll just get the maple syrup."
"Thank you, Quatre." The look Trowa gives him made me turn to the fridge and get some orange juice, giving them a chance to give each other a morning kiss. When I turn back Quatre was pink, and Trowa had a satisfied look as he dug into the pancakes. These two were sweet enough to need no maple syrup. I lost all of my appetite to envy for their relationship, thought I mechanically eat from the plate Quatre set before me.
"Shouldn't you be getting ready to arrange matters with the Winner Foundation?" I inquire. Now that Quatre was head of their family's businesses I had expected him to become a very busy person.
He gives me one of his shy, sweet smiles, making him look younger than his age. "I do, but I have time enough to prepare breakfast for whoever is awake at this time." He takes a seat across the Heavy arms pilot, and proceed to eat as well. The moment passes in silence, then after he had raised his cup of coffee to his lips he start to speak again. "What are your plans for the whole day, Mr. Milliard? Releena is coming in today, isn't she?"
"Yes. I'll pick up Releena in the airport at noon. There was no need to offer to send a private plane for her, Quatre. She has her own. Or a Sanque plane could pick her up. And you know she'd not agree, taking a flight from the local airline."
"Quatre would insist she take his plane, at any rate," Trowa replies, folding up the newspaper and taking another forkful of pancake. He had shortened the hair falling to his handsome face, for his convenience. Though
his green eyes were still partly hidden, he can now easily flick it to one side. His taste in clothing is still the same as in earlier years, and his turtleneck was a beautiful gray cashmere one that was Quatre's birthday gift for him. Only a part-time circus performer now, he has tried to specialize in illusions, setting up almost impossible escape tricks that still amazed me because I have no idea how he could do it. "And before you pick her up? Do you
plan to ski?"
"No, not this morning. Maybe this afternoon, so Releena would have someone with her on the slopes."
"Surely all your plans don't figure with Releena?" Quatre jokes. "Releena might want to be alone with her new friend..."
"Oh, you mean Hitoshi, the Japanese exchange student from the Space Colonies. I have met him already, and I think Releena will be fine with him. Well, if she wants to be unbothered by her older brother I can always read Les Miserables."
"I think we have best set you up with someone. You need to enjoy the slopes. That's why we're here, at any rate." Trowa looks at his watch. "Well, seems like I'd better hurry up. I'm going to pick up our stuff from town."
"I'll be coming with you." Quatre makes a move to stand up but Trowa stops him by a hand on the shoulder.
"Oh no, finish your breakfast, Quatre. Can't let you get thin, you know." He gently pats Quatre's shoulder and leaves. Quatre smiles at me.
"Trowa is always in a hurry. He got used to it when he was in the circus."
"So I guessed." Silence anew, and I wait until Trowa was out of earshot. I clear my throat. "Quatre, can I ask you something?"
"What?" Those trusting blue eyes are now directed to me, his fork hovering forgotten in midair. I understood why Trowa always protected him, why he called Quatre his precious angel when they were alone and thought no one could hear them. I feel like I'm about to shatter a piece of finely spun glass, if I go on speaking about what was on my mind.
I am going to ask him how it was to be loved.
I weigh my words. I don't know how he would react, whether he would rebuff me for the rather personal question I am going to ask. But having no experience at all in this matter, it would be best if I ask him. Duo and Heero are out of the question. Duo would graphically explain everything for hours, whether it was a reply to the question or not, and Heero would tell me to mind my own business, and at worst he'd have a gun pointing to my neck. Trowa would simply refuse to answer, but to ask Quatre was too dangerous...he was inherently gentle and fine, and I didn't know if he'd be saddened by the news that I knew.
I don't know if Quatre is under the delusion that others thought he and Trowa were just good friends, and I don't know if the others thought they were that, but I didn't. I was aware of what they were to each other, just by each touch they made, each word they spoke to each other, and each smile they shared. And I envy them for the happiness they had.
"It's rather--personal..."
"Is it about Trowa and me?"
My head shoots up, and I see he is still smiling. The fact that he brought it up himself reassures me. I'm now sure I can ask anything, as long as it wasn't too nosy or too perverse to think about asking.
"Quatre, how does it feel to have someone--like Trowa?"
His smile gets a contented look at it, and he is looking far from uncomfortable, not at all self-conscious. His eyes are directed to a distance. "Trowa is simply wonderful. I do not know how to explain it. We just connect to each other easily. When I need him he is always there, and he protects me as no one had protected me. I know that he is the haven I will need all of my life." His gaze returns to me. "Love is a feeling that spreads over your soul until you cannot live without it. It comes from a journey through what you need to prove it is between you. Whatever path it takes, whether full of joy or hardship, as long as it reaches its true end, and as long as you are willing to live through the whole thing, with the person by your side, that is love. You give and with every thing you give you reclaim an important part of yourself; your soul. To love, to live, those two things are interconnected. If I was asked to live without Trowa, I would die. If I was asked to sacrifice myself so Trowa will live, I will. We need each other that much--but I love him too much to see anything happen to him."
"Oh." I look down, and think if that is the reason why I don't want to live. Is it because Treize is now gone? Quatre looks at me with understanding.
"You miss him, don't you?"
"Whaa???"
"You miss Treize."
For someone younger than me to know what I was thinking was a surprise. I stare at him, my mouth dry. Quatre pours a cup of coffee and gives it to me. I slowly drink, more to hide my ashen face from his inquiring eyes than anything else. "Treize is a person with lots of charisma. And he has this effect on people that made others listen. Anyone with eyes could see that. That you miss a friend of yours like that is natural."
"A friend. Yes, he was a friend," I reply, almost thoughtfully. So Quatre thinks we were only friends, and to express hopes that it had been otherwise would be unusually loquacious of me. Or was it Quatre suspects something more, but did not wish to say anything? I cannot know. His blue eyes gives nothing away. I set the cup down. "I'd better finish my reading."
"But your pancakes..."
"I've eaten my fill. You are a good cook, Quatre. If I eat any more I will not be able to stand up." So saying, I head anew to the balcony. Quatre wishes me a good day and starts to clear the table.
"Clearing breakfast, Quatre? Already?" Duo's cheerful voice comes from the door, followed soon after by his appearance. "Hello, Mr. Milliard. Had some of Quatre's delicious pancakes?"
"Yes. Good morning, you two. Missed it again."
Duo doesn't look like he minded, especially with an arm draping over Heero's shoulder. They are looking-well --mischievous, and that is unusual. It's like they're planning something that wasn't good. At least for their target. And I can only think of one person who'd be one...
Quatre voices out my suspicions before I could. "I know Releena's coming from the Space Colonies today, Duo, and I hope you aren't planning anything bad." Quatre frowns at him when he tried to look innocent. "Anything even remotely mischievous is not allowed, okay?"
"Aye, aye, Quatre. We just wanted to set a welcome for her and her guest. After all, Heero and I are glad she could come."
Heero smiles at Duo, then seems to recollect himself. He starts to look as if he wanted to wish we were all out of the room, and I speculate why he didn't want anyone to know Duo was teaching him to cook. That is why they always pretend to wake up late. But I guess he doesn't want people to know Duo had talked him into doing something so domestic as cooking. After all, it'll ruin his image.
Image. Yeah, I used to think image was important. I guess I lost my vain streak. Somewhere along the road, I must have lost interest in what I appeared to be before people. After all, now I believe that people see only what they want to see, no matter how much you try not to show that side of you. Strange, that. I no think it was frivolous, thinking about how you appear to other people, when things that are more important must be remembered. People to love, nature to appreciate, friends to be with you, that is all that is important.
Heero looks from Duo to Quatre, and seem to make a decision. He set his chin more firmly, anyway. "Where are the blueberries?"
Quatre's amazed to say the least. "Blueberries?"
"Yeah, blueberries. For pancakes." His short explanation amazes Quatre further, and Duo steps in, grinning at Heero's suddenly flushed face.
"We were going to make our breakfast, Quatre. I wanted blueberry pancakes, just like the ones you make, and Heero--er--volunteered to cook some, for me."
Our breakfast. How right that "our" sounded in the sentence. It seems I would always be hit by envy when it comes to these pilots. They had someone, while I didn't. When he was gone for a long, long time...
Suddenly, I don't want to see another blueberry pancake again.
Ten fifteen.
It seems almost like an eternity, the few hours I spend reading. Now Les Miserables lies between my fingers, unread. Even the romance of Marius and Cosette fail to capture my imagination. All I want to do is to think about the past. People say I've changed, that I dwell too much in the past, that I should look into the future. But I can't. I always remember that this future does not involve the person I think I want to be with. And I curse my luck anew, because Marius and Cosette drove the thought home: I need love. Just pure, unconditional love, the kind you can only dream to have. The kind of love that saves.
I wonder if this kind of love existed. People think it does, but I haven't seen any sign of it. Most married couples I see fight, and the younger unmarried ones break up almost as easily as coming together. What did that leave me? The option to live with a woman like Noin, someone I can like but never love? Or dreaming of ghost who'll never come back to life?
The door opens anew, and this time it is Wu fei who comes out. His white coat was made of wool, a warm material. He smiles faintly and looks out on the mountains. "Good morning," he says, nodding at my direction. I greet him as well.
I must admit, I do not feel comfortable in his presence. When I remember that he is the reason why Treize is dead, that he killed Treize while on board Epyon, when I think how lonely I feel...sometimes I want to run away from this Chinese pilot's presence. Other times I want to kill him. I don't know whether I should trust him or whether I should treat him as an enemy. I stare at his black ponytail, thinking of words to drive him away.
"I won't vanish, you know," he abruptly says, and he turns his head. I raise my eyes to meet his mocking ones. "I just wanted to enjoy the view, nothing wrong with that, right?"
"Yes, of course. I do not own this balcony. You have every right to be here." I know I sounded sarcastic, but I couldn't help it. He makes me freeze with something that was half-hatred, half-pity. The hatred part for killing Treize and leaving me in this limbo, the pity part coming from being so emotionless. I'd rather have this limbo than being encased in ice. I flip open the until then forgotten book on my lap.
"We've started to call this Milliard's balcony, you know," he comments. "The only thing you need here is a person to play the part of Romeo and we can do the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet."
He has faced me, and he seems to be part of the landscape, the white snow, the black ebony of the balcony railing, and the cool expression on his face. He must have been carved from the same ice in the North Pole, or Siberia. Makes me wonder if he ever loved anything more than the clinical affection he had for his Gundam.
"Thank you. When I start casting for a Romeo you will head my list." I may sound a little too sarcastic, but I was dazed with something. I don't know what he knew, I don't know what he could do. Of all the Gundam pilots, he is the most unreadable. He turns to face me, leaning lightly on the balcony railing. He smiles again.
"I think Treize would suit better, right?" There is a mock-innocent twinkle in his eye. I freeze. "He is strong, a good fighter. He is one to admire, Milliard. Also, he can memorize the lines better than I can. Am I correct?"
`Liar,' I thought. He was a scholar. What kind of scholar would be bad at memory work? "Now why should you ask me that?" I parry. I know where this talk was leading, and I don't want it to go there. I stand up and make noises of leaving.
"Leaving me alone to meditate? Or running away from yourself?" He turns back to the mountains. Silence descends on us. "I think you just don't want to admit what the others have admitted already."
"I have nothing to admit." I'm nearly quaking, I know, but what he had said injured my pride. I not admit I loved Treize? I have admitted it to myself a long time ago, and at the same time, I damn myself for it. I wait for him to continue.
"I had a wife, you know. A long time ago." His gaze remains on the pine trees in the distance as his voice softens. "We never got the chance to get to know each other properly. I still regret we haven't. It was an arranged marriage between her and me, something about family honor and the like...if she was alive, I wonder if I would have become a Gundam pilot. I called my Gundam Shen Long, if you could recall. Meiran...my wife--she would have loved that name, she would have loved to pilot that hunk of metal. I was a scholar, and I know, it seemed strange, but in our family, I was the only scholar, and I don't know whether it was a good thing or bad thing. But I married Meiran, and that was why--" He turned away and leaned against the balcony, his eyes soft with emotion I couldn't identify.
"Our life together was so short. Maybe we'd have done better not to fight all the time, but it was our way to settle differences, and it was fun, the making up after. It was the first time I met a girl who seemed to be more a man than a woman, with her own fire, her own mind. And she would not let me stay in the house reading. She'd take me out, to look at the parks, to enjoy, so much...so much...I'd not have wanted to pilot that Gundam, in fact, if my wife--"
Of all the Gundam pilots, it was only Wu fei who did not reveal his emotions. Heero knew the idea of mission and duty to a point near machine- like acuity. I don't think being manic is an emotion, but it is a sign of caring for something. Duo loved to make life fun for everyone around him. It was the American in him, I guess. Quatre was gentle and held a certain kind of energy in check, all the time. He cared for everyone, and was probably the most motherly of all the guys I have met. Trowa was cool and calm, and always his actions were planned, but all four turned into fighters the moment they step into their Gundam. Wu fei...Wu fei only had sarcasm and hate for everyone he met. It was strange for a young person to reveal that amount of hate, especially for Treize.
"But you--you piloted Shen Long."
"I became a Gundam pilot so as to be able to live in her dream."
"Oh."
My mind's in turmoil. I had always thought of Wu fei as cold. I must admit that. But this...I didn't know he had loved, that he could love. Somehow I found him more--approachable after finding that out. But I can't forget that easily. I'm not a fool to think I'll ever forgive him for letting Treize die. No, for killing Treize.
Though I think we could even be friends.
"Why?"
My question was to the point. I have to know why he wanted to kill Treize.
"He didn't withdraw the troops soon enough. That decision caused me my wife."
"She fought the troops sent to your colony?"
"She was the first to charge up to them. She was also one of the first to die." His eyes are filled with bitter memories. I sense he was reliving the anguish he had felt then, and keep silent. It is obvious he loved her enough to be thinking to die was better than living. He knew that in death he would find Meiran, and so chased that thing, that release to be with the one he loved.
That's why he didn't care what happened to him, whether he lived or died.
I pity him.
"What do we have here?" His eyes strays at the pile of books on the chair beside mine. He touches Les Miserables reverently. "I didn't know there was a copy here... it's been a long time since I've read this. Hello, Valjean, Javert." His accent made the names sound strange.
"If you want, you can read it."
"I haven't seen a copy of this since--since--a long time ago." His voice becomes choked. I know he wants to say "--since Meiran was alive." but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. Not in front of me. Probably not in front of anyone. Yet.
"I know of a bookshop which specializes in these kinds of books. Most are good editions that can be called antiques in their own right. Why don't you read this? I've read it through a couple of times. But aren't you going skiing with Sally and the others?"
"I'd prefer to read this to that infernal sport they call skiing."
I grin. I heard of his fiasco on the slopes, and I didn't want to tease him about it, more out of consideration for myself than for him. He can get mighty touchy sometimes. And that was bad for anyone in his vicinity.
"Go, take it and read it for a while. It'll be your excuse to not go skiing."
He picks it up and silently left. I wonder more about his wife. He mentioned her name. Meiran. An amazing woman, to have made a stubborn person like Wu fei fall in love with her and admit it to anyone at all. He had mellowed a lot from the years, so different from the taciturn young man I knew before. Maybe it wasn't just me who've changed. Maybe all of us changed because of that war. Maybe all of us became better for it.
I'd better get ready to drive to the airport or not be able to pick up Releena.
I sit alone in the waiting area, bored as I read a newspaper discarded by someone. I could see why Quatre asked me if I was going so soon as I left. Luckily my driving slowly lengthened my travel time. I have a good ten minutes wait for the plane. Well, it was nice to watch families off for a holiday crowding in the waiting area. Nice, but I feel a depressing ache deep inside me. I can never have a family, a complete one. Releena was there, but I will not see her again for a long time after this. She's busy too, up in the Space Colonies while I had things to do in Sanque.
"Mr. Zechs Merquise?"
I turn when I hear someone call my by my old name. I had discarded it along with traces of my old life. I also had stopped wearing my hair loose, keeping it braided back. I'm even considering cutting it. I know people looked at me, for my pale hair was striking. But I did not expect to be accosted by a stranger, staring fixedly at me.
The stranger 's a young woman, with brown hair bleached to blond by staying long under the sun. She's poised and tall, her bearing that of the old aristocracy. There was a sharpness in her features, but not enough to make her look pinched. Instead she appears--elegant. The warmly piled cashmere sweater and tailored black jacket bespoke of a name designer. And her thick light brown hair fell in rich waves over her shoulders.
But it's her eyes, her deep blue eyes beneath unusual eyebrows that shocks me to silence.
Treize's eyes.
"I guess you have no idea who I am," she states, a bit amused by my shock. "Or you see a resemblance I know shocks you. I am Ewizge Engel Ivanvova Khushrenada, Treize's sister. I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Merquise."
"Sister?" I didn't know he had a sister.
"Treize must have forgotten to mention us to you. Strange, when he could only talk about you when he sees us. I surprised you by my name. It is a trifle too hard on people when they hear it; it's a mouthful. Please, call me Angel, it's so much easier for people to pronounce." And she smiles. Had I not believed her to be Treize's sister I would have believed her when I saw that charming, charismatic smile slowly forming on her lips. It was Treize's to life.
"I am please to meet you, Miss Khushrenada. Alone?"
"No. My parents are actually there, waiting for me to bring you over to them. Would you please humor them? They'd want to see you. We've heard a lot about you from Treize, Mr. Merquise."
"What have you heard?"
"Oh, you know..." She suddenly looks like a young girl facing her brother's college friends. I smile. "What a great soldier you are, that kind of stuff. Anyway, I'm sure you've heard yourself described that way countless times. Are you on vacation too?"
"Yes. I am staying with some of my friends in a cabin owned by Quatre Winner. I am to meet my sister here. She's coming from the Space Colonies."
"Oh, Minister Dorian. He told us about her too. Interesting, how he seemed to like both of you immensely. Maybe because both of you are so stubborn. He is as well."
Is--I noticed. Maybe to them Treize was not yet dead, maybe to them Treize still lives in their memories, just as he did in mine. I feel an immediate bond spring up with his family, for despite the fact I just met one of them today, they also react to their loss as I do. I must have looked preoccupied, because she spoke up again.
"Please, would you join us, Mr. Merquise? We are also waiting for the flight from the Space Colonies to Earth."
"I go by my real name now. I am called Milliard Peacecraft now."
"Then forgive me for calling you Mr. Merquise, Mr. Peacecraft. It's just that it had become a habit because of hearing you being called that by Treize."
"That is all right. Your parents--?"
"I think they got tired of waiting for us. Here they are. Mama, papa, I was right! It is Mr. Merquise, but he is called Milliard Peacecraft now."
I turn to see an elegant couple that wore their age well. The man had the same look as Treize, and though his hair was now more silver than black, it was striking to look at him. The woman was more approachable, cast in the same mold as Lady Une, only that she smiled more often and had kind blue eyes. I see that she was the one from whom Treize and Angel got their unusual eyes. "I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Khushrenada, madam."
"And so are we, Mr. Peacecraft," the man replied.
"So you are the young man Treize always talks about." Mrs. Khushrenada fairly beams at me. "I see you are as handsome as your pictures, Mr. Peacecraft."
I wonder where they saw my pictures. I was as a rule camera-shy. Angel turns to me. "Yes, you do look exactly like your pictures. My older brother would like to meet you too, I'm sure, when he gets here, that is. He's due any minute now. In fact, we're waiting for the same flight you are because he's in the same flight as Minister Dorian."
"Brother? Treize--"
"There he is! Hey!" Angel suddenly runs towards the arrivals gate, where my sister is now standing with a slim young man in a dark blue woolen coat- that was Hitoshi--and a tall, lean man. He was dressed in slacks and a long black coat, closing down the front with cloth covered buttons, collar lined with sable. Everything melted behind this man. The scene is blurred behind him. I don't even glance at my sister. He is looking at me with dark blue eyes.
I must be in a dream. Or a nightmare.
He is coming towards me. He extends his hand out, taking mine in it. I can only stare at him helplessly as I feel the solid warmth of his hand engulf mine through our gloves. "Hello, Zechs," says a well-remembered voice.
Treize was alive.
