IT was sitting in the corner, mocking him.
He had no idea why he'd cleaned and kept the thing, couldn't offer any sane rationalization for making sure it stayed with him from move to move. Realizing how
bizarre it would seem if the others saw, and quite possibly incite them to seek professional psychiatric help for him, he was careful not to let anyone see it.
A little white bucket.
A little white bucket that had stolen all the joy from his heart one quiet night while he had lain sweetly dreaming with hope of something that would never be.
Restlessly he flipped his body over in his bed, refusing to look at it. For the nth time in as many nights he promised himself he would get rid of it tomorrow, that enough was enough. Grief was one thing, confusion was okay too, but this was bordering on an unhealthy obsession. This time he would do it. He was strong enough now to let go of the dreams and the memories.
This was foolishness, keeping a symbol of the death of all he held dear. And who better than Quatre had exemplified his ideals in life? It wasn't like he was in love with him like Trowa, or the enviably close bond of friendship that Duo had held. Heero would never obsess over anything that could get in the way of a mission.
He had always thought himself so strong, so noble. Even the minor defeats along the way, bruises to his pride that they had been, had not dented his knowledge that he was right, and that he was strong.
The little white bucket mocked all of this.
In frustration he leapt out of his bed and grabbed it up in his hands. "Why did you do it? WHY? You didn't even leave us a letter to explain...why couldn't I protect you?"
There was no answer. He knew deep in his heart there could not be one. The answer had bled into this bucket several months ago.
Funny, but he hadn't expected it to hurt. He had supposed somehow that losing Meiran would put an end to any further pain, that he had faced the worst and need fear no more.
But he was wrong. The proof was in his hands, smooth and chilled in the night air.
There would be no answers. He accepted this, and now he really could throw it away. He didn't need the symbol of his friend's choice anymore. Knowing that until he joined him he would never know released something inside.
He tossed the bucket down the trash chute in his safe house.
"Good bye, Quatre. May you now have whatever it was you needed. But damn it, it hurt when you left us. There can be no Justice in a world that snuffs out lights like you. That is why I will keep fighting, to change the world. To make a place for the bright flames of kindness that you symbolized. Nataku will help me. But are you alone in the night now? Meiran, if you can hear me, if you care, please watch over him til we join you."
He had no idea why he'd cleaned and kept the thing, couldn't offer any sane rationalization for making sure it stayed with him from move to move. Realizing how
bizarre it would seem if the others saw, and quite possibly incite them to seek professional psychiatric help for him, he was careful not to let anyone see it.
A little white bucket.
A little white bucket that had stolen all the joy from his heart one quiet night while he had lain sweetly dreaming with hope of something that would never be.
Restlessly he flipped his body over in his bed, refusing to look at it. For the nth time in as many nights he promised himself he would get rid of it tomorrow, that enough was enough. Grief was one thing, confusion was okay too, but this was bordering on an unhealthy obsession. This time he would do it. He was strong enough now to let go of the dreams and the memories.
This was foolishness, keeping a symbol of the death of all he held dear. And who better than Quatre had exemplified his ideals in life? It wasn't like he was in love with him like Trowa, or the enviably close bond of friendship that Duo had held. Heero would never obsess over anything that could get in the way of a mission.
He had always thought himself so strong, so noble. Even the minor defeats along the way, bruises to his pride that they had been, had not dented his knowledge that he was right, and that he was strong.
The little white bucket mocked all of this.
In frustration he leapt out of his bed and grabbed it up in his hands. "Why did you do it? WHY? You didn't even leave us a letter to explain...why couldn't I protect you?"
There was no answer. He knew deep in his heart there could not be one. The answer had bled into this bucket several months ago.
Funny, but he hadn't expected it to hurt. He had supposed somehow that losing Meiran would put an end to any further pain, that he had faced the worst and need fear no more.
But he was wrong. The proof was in his hands, smooth and chilled in the night air.
There would be no answers. He accepted this, and now he really could throw it away. He didn't need the symbol of his friend's choice anymore. Knowing that until he joined him he would never know released something inside.
He tossed the bucket down the trash chute in his safe house.
"Good bye, Quatre. May you now have whatever it was you needed. But damn it, it hurt when you left us. There can be no Justice in a world that snuffs out lights like you. That is why I will keep fighting, to change the world. To make a place for the bright flames of kindness that you symbolized. Nataku will help me. But are you alone in the night now? Meiran, if you can hear me, if you care, please watch over him til we join you."