Dragon Lady: Yayfun, I've got another chapter up on this story. ^_^
Trowa: Explain to me again how you want to be an author, and yet such things as "yayfun" are part of your daily vocabulary.
Dragon Lady: Made up words are so much fun! ^_^;;
Ken: *rolls eyes* Of course.
Dragon Lady: Actually, yayfun is Shadow Kat's word. I'm just borrowing it.
Trowa: Why?
Dragon Lady: *shrugs* Because I felt like saying yayfun. ^^;; Yayness is my word. But I felt that the occasion called for a yayfun rather than a yayness.
Ken: *sighs* Would somebody put us out of our misery? Please?
Dragon Lady: ^^;;;
Trowa: ///_^;;; Don't mind dl, she's just insane.
Dragon Lady: *protests* No I'm not, I'm out of sane!
Trowa: …So, as I was saying…enjoy the story!
Ken: ^^;;;
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sinister Shadows
By: DigimonDragonLady
Soft lashes fluttered open to the morning sunlight streaming through open window curtains.
"Good morning, Little One," a low voice greeted him. "Did you sleep well?"
Quatre frowned and looked up at Trowa. "I didn't mean to go to sleep," he said. "You weren't supposed to let me."
"Bu you needed it, you were exhausted," Trowa replied, gently brushing his fingers down Quatre's cheek, and the boy sighed softly in contentment. "And I watched to make sure the dreams didn't come."
"You stayed awake all night?" Quatre asked incredulously. "For me?"
"Of course."
"But…why?"
"Because I made a promise to protect you, so that's what I'll do," Trowa answered. He could see the confusion in Quatre's eyes, which always turned a stormy colored blue when upset or puzzled. "Because I care about you too much to let anyone hurt you."
"Oh." Quatre smiled a little. "I guess those are good enough reasons."
"They are for me," Trowa kissed him gently.
"But don't exhaust yourself on my account, Trowa," Quatre told him sternly in his best 'I'm trying to get mad and lecture you but I appreciate the sentiment' voice.
"Are you feeling up to breakfast?" Trowa asked in concern. "I could make your excuses to Ms. Noin and the others, tell them you were sick…"
"No," Quatre said quickly. "No, I'd rather not be alone. They'd just tell me to sleep and rest…"
"I understand, Quatre, its all right. Just relax," Trowa soothed. "I'm not going to make you do anything that you don't want to do." Quatre nodded in understanding, and Trowa continued, "Then we should hurry down to breakfast."
* * *
They entered the dining room to see that only Heero sat at the table, sipping a cup of hot coffee while reading the morning newspaper. He looked up when they came in.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"Bad night, that's all," Quatre muttered.
"Where's Duo?" Trowa asked with a frown.
A flash of painful emotion crossed Heero's face, but was gone almost as fast as it came. "I don't think he's feeling well today," was all Heero said.
"Not feeling well?" Quatre asked, sharing a quick look with Trowa. "Poor Duo."
"He really hasn't been his usual cheerful self lately," Trowa noted.
"No," Heero agreed, the far off look returning to his eyes, "he hasn't."
"What's really wrong with him, Heero?" Quatre questioned gently. "You know him much better than Trowa or I…"
Heero hesitated as if he were about to say something that he didn't want to even think about, let alone talk about. "Duo, he's…"
"Yes?"
"Drifting," Heero finished, sounding . "Further and further away from me everyday." He shook his head in a helpless gesture. "He barely talks to me anymore, and he's been my closest friend since we were young, and then…"
Quatre nodded in understanding.
"Now he's a completely different person. Its like the Duo Maxwell that I've always known never even existed. Like what he was, what I saw was just what I imagined him to be. All he wants to do now is paint; he's practically stopped talking altogether. And you should see his room, it looks like an professional art studio with all the old sheets he's got draped around over the furniture, and the paints."
Hilde entered while Heero was talking. She looked Quatre over speculatively, and Quatre was sure that, despite the elaborate pains he had taken on his appearance that morning, he must still have looked worse for the wear because of the previous nights unsettling events."
"Coffee?" she asked him, indicating the pot in her hand."
"I wish I had the time, Hilde," Quatre sighed. "But my class with Ms. Noin starts in just a few minutes."
"You boys don't eat enough," she accused. "You're all getting too skinny and pale."
"I'll make up for it at lunch," Quatre promised.
Hilde only 'hmphed' at him, she had come to know Quatre's eating habits well enough to know that he rarely ate enough as it was, let alone under any kind of stress. She looked around. "Where's the talkative one?"
They all looked at one another. "Duo was feeling tired today," Quatre offered finally. "We don't think he's feeling very well."
Hilde frowned. "I'll take a tray up to him."
"Oh, let me, Hilde," Quatre offered. "I really wouldn't mind."
"Hm. Are you sure? Well…that would save me time having to get the Headmaster his breakfast. All right, then, thanks."
She beckoned for Quatre to follow her to the kitchen, but before they could go anywhere, Lady Une entered.
"Quatre, Ms. Noin is waiting for you in the music room."
'I know, Ms. Une," Quatre replied respectfully. "But I offered to take Duo a tray of food for Hilde."
"Yes, where is Mr. Maxwell this morning?" she asked, looking around the room as if she expected Duo to jump out from behind some piece of furniture and proclaim himself too sick to make the days lessons.
"Ill, ma'am," Quatre answered.
"Very well, then. Take him his breakfast quickly and then report to Ms. Noin."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'll see you later," he promised Trowa. "And I'll speak to Duo for you, Heero. Maybe I can find out what's really going on with him."
"Arigato," Heero said.
"You're welcome," Quatre responded.
* * *
"Duo?" Quatre knocked on his friends door hesitantly, listening for any signs of life from the boy inside the room. "Duo, its Quatre, may I come in?"
"Quatre?" Duo's voice answered faintly. "Um…sure, come on in."
Quatre carefully pushed the door open while balancing the tray of food he was holding. He saw Duo lying stretched out on the bed. He looked very pale and tired. His braid tangled loosely around his arm and torso, and chestnut brown bangs limp against his brow.
"What's all this?" Duo asked weakly, sitting up by propping himself up on his elbows.
"Hilde's sent you up your breakfast," Quatre smiled at him.
Duo flopped back down on the pillows. "I'm not hungry," he said.
Duo Maxwell, not wanting food? "Duo, you should really eat something; you don't look so good."
"I'm fine, really," Duo protested. "Just tired. I've been working really hard lately."
"It looks like it," Quatre agreed, staring around the room. He walked over to a painting set upon the easel. "This is pretty," he commented, examining the half finished landscape. "What are you going to put over here?" he pointed to an unfinished area.
"How am I supposed to know?" Duo answered with an irritated shrug. "It'll come to me when I've got the brush in my hand, like it always does."
"I see."
"There's so much left to do," Duo murmured. "So much that he wants me to do."
"He?" Quatre asked quickly, before the moment was lost.
"Yes, yes, he," Duo sighed wearily. "Do you mind, Quatre, I'm not sure that I really feel up to twenty questions. We can talk later, all right?"
"Sure, Duo," Quatre nodded his agreement. "Sure."
"And you might as well take that tray right back to Hilde."
* * *
Quatre walked into the music room a short time later, looking very disturbed, but attempting to put on a pleasant smile for the benefit of his teacher. Ms. Noin looked up when she heard him enter.
"Quatre, I'd almost given up on you for the day. Where have you been all this time?"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Noin," he apologized. "I was taking Duo his breakfast, because he wasn't feeling well, but then I had to take the tray Hilde had prepared for him back to the kitchen, because he didn't want it."
"That's too bad, I hope he feels better later," she said sympathetically. "All right, then, just get your violin, and then we can get started."
"My violin! Oh, I left it in my room!" Quatre exclaimed shaking his head at his thoughtlessness. "I'm sorry, Ms. Noin, I don't know what is wrong with me this morning, but I completely forgot it--"
"Quatre," Ms. Noin interrupted. "Your violin is right over there on the chair," she frowned and glanced in the direction.
Quatre followed her gaze and blinked in surprise. "But…I…Did you get it out of my room for me?"
"Quatre, you know I would never go through your things without your knowing about it and having given me permission," she replied, as if shocked that that he would think such a thing of her. "I assumed that you had brought it down yourself before breakfast, because it was waiting when I entered the room this morning."
"No," Quatre said, staring at the violin as if he were loathe to touch it. "No, I didn't. The last place I saw my violin was in my room last night. I was playing it right before Trowa and I went out for our walk, and I put it under the bed and didn't touch it after that…"
"Do you think its possible that Trowa brought it down for you?"
Quatre blushed slightly, wondering if there was anything that went on at the Institute that Lucretzia Noin didn't know about. "He might have," he murmured. "It does seem like something that Trowa would do for me, and he does know where I keep it."
"Well, no matter how it got here, as long as its here we might as well --"
She was staring right past Quatre at the door and she abruptly stopped her sentence. "Yes, Doctor J?" she asked.
Quatre spun around. The students didn't see the headmaster very often; he always ate in his office and rarely left, except to sometimes drive to the village on the weekends.
"There is a phone call for young Master Winner from his sister," Doctor J informed them, letting his gaze drift over Quatre.
"Iria's calling?" Quatre's face lit up. He had been writing his sister every weekend, but he'd only gotten a few letters in reply to his own, and one of the ones that he had received from Wufei had demanded to know if Quatre was too good to talk to his old friend anymore.
"So it seems," Ms. Noin sighed at the interruption; so much for her lesson. "You'd better go quickly, Quatre, long distance phone call."
"Where do I take it?" Quatre asked eagerly.
"The only working telephone is in my office," Doctor J answered shortly, turning and walking away, and Quatre took it to mean that he was supposed to follow him.
When the headmaster had led him inside the office and closed the door behind them, Quatre snatched up the phone. "Iria?"
"Quatre!" the voice on the other end replied happily. "Its so wonderful to talk to you again."
"Its good to talk to you too, Iria. How is everyone doing? Are you all right? Rashid? Have you talked to Wufei lately?"
"Calm down, little brother," she laughed. "Yes, I'm fine, Rashid is doing well, and Wufei talks with me often, always asking about you and how you're doing. We're all wondering about you. Having so much fun that its hard to find the time to write, huh?"
"What? Not writing? What are you talking about?" Quatre asked in confusion. "Iria…haven't you been getting my letters?" He walked slowly away from Doctor J's desk, turning his back to the man and stretching the phone cord to its limit. Having the headmaster in the room listening to him was making him nervous.
"Oh, we've gotten a few, but it has been quite a while since the last one."
"But…I've been writing a letter every weekend…"
"Well, then," Iria said, "I'm sure we'll get them eventually. They'll probably all come at once. You know the mail service."
Quatre smiled and gave a nervous laugh, still painfully aware of Doctor J's presence. "That must be it," he agreed reluctantly. "Iria…when are you coming to get me?" he asked suddenly.
"Quatre, we'll see each other again when we pick you up for the Christmas vacation, just like we planned."
"But…that's still weeks away!"
"You still want to leave? What's wrong, Quatre? Don't tell me you don't have any friends. You can't be all that miserable. What about that Trowa guy you told me about in your first letter; he sounded very nice. Isn't he your friend?"
"Trowa?" Quatre blushed slightly. "Of course he is, Trowa's been just wonderful, but --" he hesitated and then rushed on. "Iria, I just…strange things are happening here and I--"
"I believe that phone call must be costing your sister a small fortune, Master Winner," Doctor J broke in on him smoothly, cutting off whatever his full reply would have been. "Don't you think its time to let her go?"
Quatre panicked. His call was about to be cut short. "Iria, I have to go, but I really wish you'd come."
"We'll see you at the Christmas vacation, Quatre, and you can decide then if you want to go back to the school or not," Iria said reasonably. "Wufei says to send his love."
"Goodbye, Iria," Quatre sighed in defeat. She hadn't taken him seriously. He knew she wouldn't, but he'd had to try. "Tell Wufei the same for me."
The phone went dead.
Quatre unwillingly handed it back over to Doctor J, who replaced the receiver with a dull click that made him cringe inwardly. "We all have to do our best to fight those unbidden waves of homesickness when far away from our loved ones," Doctor J commented emotionlessly.
"Yes, sir," Quatre agreed wearily. He had turned to go out the door, when his eye was caught by a painting he noticed on the wall.
"Excuse me, headmaster?" He stopped, still staring at the picture. "Where did that painting come from?"
"That?" Doctor J looked up from where he sat bent over paperwork at his desk. "It is a reproduction of a painting done by a man named Thomas Cole, an artist famous for his landscapes."
"I've seen this painting before somewhere," Quatre said slowly, trying to remember. "Only…it was painted from a different angle." He looked at Doctor J. "Is Thomas Cole…did he live around here?"
"Yes, I believe he did. But that was a very long time ago. Thomas Cole is no longer alive."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dragon Lady: There, another chapter all finished. *is immensely pleased with herself*
Ken: *sarcastically* Yayfun. *waves a little flag humorlessly*
Dragon Lady: *ignoring Ken's sarcasm* And it's got more cute 'n flufferly 3x4, so chee. And I still say that it has 1x2. I see 1x2, doesn't anybody else? ^^;;; But, anyway! ^_^;;
Trowa: Yes, dl, we're all so proud of you.
Dragon Lady: Yes! I have finished yet another chapter on my story. All bow to the Queen of Procrastination and her pocket watch minions of DOOM!! Buhwahahahahahahaha!
Trowa: ///_O
Ken: Oh, gods, she's finally lost it. O.O
Dragon Lady: *giggles maniacally* Wil is right, doom is a fun word. It's almost as fun as "A curse on both your houses!" ^^;; *runs around shouting "Doom! DOOM! Doooooom!"*
Ken & Trowa: *grab dl by arms and cart her out of computer room*
Ken: That's quite enough for one night, dl.
Trowa: Try not to scare off the nice readers, okay?
Dragon Lady: Fans?
Ken: No, readers.
Dragon Lady: Not fans? *pouts* Fine.
Trowa: Review please.
Dragon Lady: Or I'll send the pocket watches after you!!
Ken & Trowa: DL!!!!!