Fixing A Broken Heart
yue kato
1997
Part 3:
"Contemplate jealousy intermixed with urgency
A million things take a damned good shot at you and me"
----"Violet", Savage Garden
"Ok, you can look now, Duo." Lady Une's voice was amused for once, losing the tinge of worry that had kept it close company ever since the whole debacle began.
A soft chuckle reinforced her black humour. "Come on, Duo. It really isn't that bad. At least you didn't have to cut it." Noin tried in vain to reassure the distressed young man seated in front of the mirror, eyes scrunched tightly shut, as if by doing so, the irrevocable fact that his hair had been dyed would become undone.
Eyes still closed, Duo swallowed convulsively, and his lips moved silently in a prayer he had learned as a child at the long-gone Maxwell Church. Please God, let me look normal. I'll give up anything. Even… But the plea stopped there as he realised that any further offer would be a lie.
A cold, flat, "Duo, we do not have time for this," hauled him away from petty vanities and back into the urgency of the situation. A silent tension settled once again over the occupants of the room. With a single sentence, Heero had managed to restore everyone's emotions to that high-strung pitch it had been vibrating at when the shuttle carrying Heero and Duo had first landed on the colony.
Only Heero could accomplish this, Duo sighed mentally. See, Duo, you're an idiot. This – this is the kind of guy you like… you're a blind fool! Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he opened his eyes and stared at himself in growing horror. No, this is a nightmare! Why am I doing this anyway? She's my rival, for god's sake. With her out of the way… He slumped down, defeated. …still nothing would happen, other than Heero being devastated, and that's why you're doing this, remember?
The reflection gazing back at him with equally increasing degrees of revulsion was attired in the white of Relena's customary ambassador's uniform, with a few tassels and epaulettes tacked on for good measure. His hair had been dyed to Relena's lighter shade of golden brown – one he wasn't exactly fond of – and now cascaded freely down his back, rather than being confined to one thick braid.
A heartfelt moan rose from his throat and he checked it before it developed into a full-blown howl. "Duo, we still have to braid it in Relena's hairstyle," said Lady Une, advancing menacingly (in Duo's point of view) upon him, brush and ribbon in hand.
The chair was tipped over with a loud crash in Duo's desperate attempt to escape. "NO!! I refuse to inflict any further degradation on my hair. Bring that ribbon near me and I shall have a nervous breakdown on this very spot!" And indeed, he noted through his panic, his voice did seem to hold shades of encroaching hysteria.
Lady Une approached him inexorably.
And his saviour suddenly stepped between the two of them. "It's enough." Heero sounded to him, at that precise moment, like an angel from heaven. Faced with this immovable wall, Lady Une had no choice but to admit defeat.
While still recovering from the shock of his mutated appearance, wondering how he was going to face everyone else, the long overcoat was thrown at him. Huh?
"Put it on," Heero intoned as he headed out the doorway. "You don't want to attract more attention." For one brief instant, Duo entertained glorious hopes, and mercilessly squashed them as he followed Heero out of the room.
***
As they sped around the corner, hurtling toward another large patch of shadows, Duo ran through the plan in his mind again. He had always possessed this ability: even in the thick of battle with total chaos enveloping him, a part of his brain still remained detached, analysing and reviewing every minute detail that flickered past his eyes, never susceptible to panic and blackout. It let him make all the necessary minor adjustments and react just right to rescue him from the most perilous of predicaments, and he was grimly satisfied that it had not left him in these times of peace.
Minimum damage: that had been the key words underlying the whole mission. Once it would have been fine to go in guns blazing, but now they could no longer afford the possibility of an explosion alerting anyone. Such destruction would be working against the stability Relena had worked so hard for. Other than those involved, no one else was aware that Relena had been kidnapped – the terrorists had yet to make a public announcement – and it was imperative to keep it that way. The political situation was too precarious for news like this. Every action they undertook would be geared to maintain that secrecy.
Only the two of them, Heero and Duo, would enter the hideout and find Relena. Then Duo would act as a decoy, buying time for Heero to get Relena – disguised in Duo's black outfit – to safety under the pretence of a failed rescue attempt. Duo would wrap up the whole mission by knocking the culprits out of action in time for the cavalry to pick them up.
Normally, Heero would have jumped at the more active, combative role, and he did, until Noin had calmly pointed out that he did not have the right appearance, in addition to the fact that his *true* mission was the safety of the Vice-Ambassador herself. Duo shivered inside, recalling the black look that had descended upon Heero's features as he could find no words, no arguments to counter her.
They rounded a corner, just in time to neatly dodge the roving searchlights, whose beams caught nothing more than the shimmering translucent ends of Duo's hair as they merged deeper into the darkness. Finally, they paused for a moment below an opening to a vent that, according to the blueprints, criss-crossed in a complex network that passed over every room in the building. By following the signal given off by Relena -- these guys are obviously new at this, Duo thought wryly to himself – they would eventually get to where she was being held.
***
The young woman sat stiffly, spine against the wall, eyes closed in a false charade of relaxation. Only her fists, tightly clenched, betrayed that she felt the slightest bit of nervousness at being held prisoner. She breathed in deep, drawing in air as well as the mustiness that always permeated a long-deserted area.
The signalling device that had been cleverly attached as a button to her uniform had sent out the emergency signal hours ago, and Relena was sure Noin and Lady Une had pinpointed her location by now. All she had to worry about now was how to distract her kidnappers keeping watch outside and through the video camera at the corner of the room. For she was perfectly sure her rescuers would come. She had confidence in Heero's dedication to the mission, even if she had lost faith in his heart.
She could feel the knot twisting in her stomach again at the thought of Heero. She had not expected him to react as he had. Before, he seemed to have tolerated her, and her foolish overtures of affection toward him, now it was as if to be civil to her was an ordeal in itself. It had been all too evident, the few days after their final confrontation. In her mind, the scene in her study with Duo as witness replayed itself. Duo's look of total, disbelieving shock was bad enough, that almost-pitying gleam in his eyes as he clumsily tried to smooth over Heero's abnormal display of indifference was too much to bear.
The knot within her wound even tighter as the second Gundam pilot crossed her mind. A slightly bitter smile curved her lips although the light did not reach her eyes. Poor Duo. She wondered if anyone else had noticed the American's feelings for his partner. Or if being in love with the same person had made her more aware of others also under Heero's spell. And Heero's so blind. All these years, and he still doesn't realise. Of course, she hadn't minded at all that Heero had been so insensitive, it made things in general less complicated, and Duo had never, not even once, gave any indication that he wanted Heero to know how he truly felt.
Now, Duo-kun, you can have him all to yourself.
Another part of her hated this though, hated that she was in effect relinquishing her hold on this beautiful being that she had adored for so long. But it was a mere petty discontent, compared to the deep-seated longing to break free from the shackles of this sickly romance that was slowly but surely poisoning her. And she had purged it, lancing the boil through, confident that in time, the heartbreaking pain would recede – the wound healed.
End part 3