Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
by Ashura no Miko

Part One: I Love You [I have a smile stretched from ear to ear,
to see you walking down the street.]

He was huddled in the dark, and he was freezing. No light came through the thick metal walls, leaving the boy in pitch black. Pitch, pitch black. He could almost believe that he really was coated in pitch, the tar restricting his movements like the dried blood covering his skin, cracking and pinching with each twitch of muscle. He struggled to pull open his eyes, eyelashes crusted together with the dried mucus his eyes had produced during the night. Or the day. He couldn't even tell how much time had passed. Frankly, he was too tired to care, too sick. He had caught some kind of severe cold since he had gotten here, but he couldn't tell how serious it was. It wasn't surprising, considering they had left him in a cold, cramped cell for God knew how many days. And after being beaten by OZ soldier for information on the Gundams, his immune system just wasn't up to dealing with the dankness of the cell, especially with no food to sustain it. It wasn't hard for him to figure that out, and to figure out that unless he was able to get some treatment somehow, he'd probably die in this cell. The congestion was rattling in his chest, along with his broken ribs, pushing sorely against his lungs. If he survived, they'd probably have to be re-broken to heal properly. He hated re-breaking bones. But with any luck, he wouldn't have to.

He wasn't stupid, he knew someone was being sent for him now, someone from his own team. After all, he was a soldier, and he knew that any mouth that might speak would have to be instantly silenced. And without his precious partner, his now captive Gundam, he would be almost useless to Operation Meteor. And a soldier without a purpose was worthless.

Duo pushed himself into a sitting position against the wall, not making a sound as the motion tore into the muscles at his side. A dizzying vertigo hit him as he moved, spots dancing in front of his eyes for a moment, blurring him vision, the tips of his fingers going warm and numb. He was going to pass out soon - he needed to eat. His body had been running on empty for awhile now. If he hoped to escape, he'd need food, anything, just some kind of sustenance. Maybe that was why they were starving him like this. Or maybe they had just forgotten him. A lot of people seemed to be doing that lately.

'Heero...mm...your name is Heero. It would have been nice if you had introduced yourself to me like you should have. You know my name, Heero, so why don't you ever remember it? It's always just 'Hey you', and I know you could remember it if you wanted to...if you wanted to.' Duo chuckled dryly, but he was still smiling. He was always smiling. Nothing could make him stop smiling to the world. It was an easy mask that none could see through. He hadn't even stopped when the guards had hit him, except for when he was unconscious that is. And that couldn't really be helped, now could it?

Could it?


[We meet at the lights,
I stare for a while.]

The thick, metal cell door side to the side with a swish, and light spilled into the small prison. Duo flinched and closed his eyes, stinging with the sudden light. During that pause, when Duo waited for his eyes to adjust, he noticed something. He wasn't being hauled up. In fact, who ever had opened the door hadn't even said anything yet.

Duo blinked blearily, waiting for the fuzzy silhouette to clear. When it did, he found a gun pointed at his head. He didn't jump, he wasn't even surprised. After all, he would either be killed by OZ for being an enemy, or killed by his own side, for getting caught. So he just looked up at the gun, letting his eyes travel over the bare arm holding it, to the green tank top, to the cold blue eyes half shaded by dark brown bangs.

"...yo'...Heero." Duo muttered almost sleepily. It was amazing how he never let his pride fail him. He wouldn't even let the Wing pilot see how much pain he was in, although it must have been rather obvious. He still smiled. "It's good that you're here...they would have used the Gundam and I against the colonies...so you have to stop them." Duo winced as his arrogance forced him to his feet. He wouldn't face Heero sitting down. It was a battle of who was better between them, and even if Heero killed him, he'd die tied with the other pilot. He wouldn't let the Japanese boy win this game. "...saa...I was destined to be killed by you."

There was a long pause, as Heero stared at Duo's smiling lips. Duo kept his eyes shut, waiting for the shot that would hit him any moment...any moment...any-...?

"...naa...Heero...are you going to do it?"

'Aren't you going to do it...Heero...?'

Another pause, they stared at one another, and for once, Duo wasn't smiling.

>"Only if you want me to." Heero answered in monotone.

'...only if I want to die huh?'

"Your right arm is fine." Heero tossed the gun at him, and Duo deftly caught the handle, his arm moving automatically, not even really registering that he had caught it. Heero knelt to pick up the dead guard's gun, then turned back to Duo. He slung his arm around the injured pilot's waist and Duo's arm went around his neck. Heero hadn't even asked if he needed help, and for that Duo was grateful. He didn't have to admit weakness to him. They were still even.

"...where is your Gundam?"

"I left it on earth." Heero replied, looking both ways. "It sticks out too much in space. I could have gotten caught like you did."
There it was, the jibe. Score one for Heero. Now Heero was winning, and Duo's pride winced. Somehow, that hurt more than his actual injuries. He changed the topic.

"So how are we going to get out of here?"

"I don't know. I planned to kill you, not rescue you."

"And if we're both killed?"

"...then two mouths will be silenced."




[The world around us disappears.
Just you and me on this island of hope,
A breath between us could be miles.]

Duo shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed, listening to it crinkle like paper under him. He had slept on much more unpleasant things before, and he would have killed for a mattress like this when he was growing up, so it wasn't that which made him uncomfortable. It was the height. He was hardly afraid of heights(after all, he worked in a Gundam) but the thought of actually sleeping this far off the ground was just...odd. It didn't seem right somehow. Unnatural. The gown didn't help. It was short and itchy, and he was getting a draft. It made him feel even more vulnerable than he already was. And feeling vulnerable was not a feeling he liked. He hated feeling weak, especially in front of Heero.

He looked at the stoic boy, leaning against the opposite wall of the small room. They were alone, Heero telling him about the next mission he would be going on.

Duo listened to it, taking it in, yet at the same time almost ignoring it. Then he found himself speaking. In reply to something, though what it was didn't seem important.

"Why aren't I going with you?"

"Don't come with me. You'll be in my way." Heero replied without pause, his voice as monotone as before. Like he were reading unimportant orders.

"What did you say? I know it's my fault my body is weak. But can't you find a nicer way to say it?" Duo sighed dramatically. Honestly, he didn't care. He never really cared. Especially now, when he didn't understand why he had spoken in the first place. It was better that he wasn't on a mission. He did need time to recoup, and he hated working with someone else. He worked alone. Solo.

"...you should rest, you need to take care of your body."

Duo jumped a bit, lifting his chin off his hands and looking at the other boy's turned back. He hadn't expected a reply to his remark. His joking remark. Heero didn't say anything unless he thought it was important. There was no such thing as small talk in his world. Not that Duo liked it, but at least he was plugged in enough to see it's importance. Duo looked at the floor. He had assumed something about Heero, one that was apparently wrong. The Wing pilot looked at him pointedly. Glared was more like it. Duo bit his lower lip.

Duo blinked a bit and looked up. He had assumed that Heero didn't have any feelings, and that he didn't care about anything except his mission, because that's what it appeared like on the surface. But on Heero's end, he had assumed that Duo was not devoted and inexperienced, just because he was always smiling.

"My body's fine. If it weren't, I'd be dead." Duo replied snidely after a pause, and Heero turned around the rest of the way to look at him. For a moment, a crack of confusion slid through the hard mask, and Duo's smile broke. For a split second they actually looked at one another, then they turned away. Duo's head turned to the right, and Heero's to the left, not only looking away, but in separate directions.

The door clicked shut and Duo looked up. He was alone again.



[Let me surround you, my sea to your shore.
Let me be the calm you seek.]

Duo watched him. The Shinigami hadn't expected to find Heero here. Back on Earth again, in this place. It wasn't anywhere odd, just a suburb of a city. No where special. But that he happened to see that dark head of hair made it different. Maybe he could win back his lost ground now. He wouldn't be weak in Heero's eyes.

Heero's noticed him when he rounded the bend, and Duo looked over at him, braid flipped over one shoulder. Heero's eyes narrowed at him, and they studied one another for awhile. It occurred to Duo that they weren't just studying, they were judging. Their competition was silent and yet so very obvious, even twenty yards away. Who would be the first to slip. Duo's grin widened a bit, without him even noticing. The more mask, the less weakness. He wouldn't - He couldn't be weak in Heero's eyes.

The American sauntered towards the Japanese pilot, his pace slow, leisurely, and most of all, casual. It was important that they just look like two normal people, talking on the street, and not two terrorist soldiers who may or may not kill one another at the slightest provocation. Heero watched him closely as he walked, and Duo knew what he was sizing him up for. Where could he hide a gun? A knife? A bomb? Anything that could be used as a weapon. Duo snorted slightly.

"Now now, Heero, it would be silly to play that kind of game in the middle of a crowd, wouldn't it?" Duo said with a grin as he stopped in front of the Japanese pilot. Duo's eyes didn't waver. He knew Heero wouldn't start anything here, and Heero undoubtedly had thought of that too. But still, it was impossible to tell for sure, through both of their impenetrable masks. In the end, it came down to one thing in Duo's mind. If Heero wanted to kill him now, there wasn't much chance of him getting away. So he just excepted it. He might as well look calm and cool when he went down, after all.

Heero's eyes didn't waver for a moment, then he nodded. He began walking again, and Duo had no choice but to fall in step with him. For a long time, they were silent. Heero wasn't much of a conversationalist, and Duo just didn't feel like blabbing about nothing. So they just walked for a long time. Duo glanced at him, and felt himself slip a little more. He resolutely stopped and turned away.

He didn't look back to see if Heero had noticed. He probably hadn't.

[Oh and every time I'm close to you,
there's too much I can't say...]



Duo pressed his face into the space made between his propped up knees. Deathscythe's harness pulled against him harshly as he tried to curl up in the cockpit chair, but he didn't notice it. After a long pause, he reached out and tapped a few buttons on the console. There was a faint whir as the computer sent the mission data back to the main circuit computer for storage. Had he been one of the other pilots, he would have been sending it back to his respective scientist. But he was the Shinigami, the only pilot who never received mission orders.

"...Shinigami is not a hero or mass murderer." He repeated to himself. He wouldn't let his partner become either. That's why he had stolen him from Dr. G. Though Dr. G had been the one who told him to steal it. It was still theft - because Duo Maxwell never accepted charity. And because he had stolen it, he operated on his own missions, staying out of contact with the scientists, and the other Gundam pilots for the most part.

And that was why he was so confused.

He tapped the buttons on the console again. He watched as the incoming transmissions appeared on his front view screen, and tapped the cursor down to 'Unknown source', and opened the file, watching the recorded message again.
Heero's face appeared on the screen, his glare hard set, and yet some how hesitant. Well, really, he didn't look hesitant at all. Duo just liked to imagine he did. It made him feel a bit better, even though those prussian blue eyes were as cold as ice as they drilled into him.

"...Find me." The screen blanked. There had been a pause before Heero had spoken, but it wasn't a softening pause. It was just pause before beginning the sentence, as if he was debating whether to say it or not. Whether it was worth it or not.

Those little nuances of people were his specialty. Each little inflection, each gesture, he learned a little more. And maybe it was just coming slower this time, but he was learning to read this stoic boy. And he'd learn to read him completely if it killed him.

"And it will, won't it Heero? I told you I was destined to be killed by you." Duo unfolded his legs, and rested his feet on the console, staring challengingly at the video screen, bringing up the recording again. "This time I'll know what to say to you. Cause I won't let you win. All the things I need to do...the things I need to say. Even if I don't know what they are yet, I'll figure it out." Duo paused, then looked away from the screen. He looked to his right, and in the corner of his eye, he could see Heero looking left, just before the recording faded to static.


[...and you just walk away.]
At first, Duo had no idea where to look. Heero was a very hard person to locate - he covered every trace and trail. But Duo learned that when Heero wanted to be found, he opened one specific trail that only one specific person would find.

"Very clever Heero..." He leaned back in the cockpit chair, tapping on the console.

To any one else, it would look like a normal student record, but for Duo, it held all the information he needed. Student Duo Maxwell, transferring out. Only it wasn't the braided boy's face that appeared with the profile, it was Heero's.

"How flattering Heero, you used my name. Or is that how I am supposed to find you? Hm..." Duo smirked a bit and turned the view screen back to the outer camera's, looking at Deathscythe Hell's surroundings. Of course, it wasn't that easy. Duo had found Heero's current location hidden in the information on the fees. 'Two payments coming from Tentora, one coming from Luxembourg.'

Two. Duo. Pilot 02. And easy code, so easy that an expert would miss it. And Duo was in Tentora now. He briefly wondered how Heero had discovered his location, but dismissed it. It wasn't important, besides, there were plenty of ways for him to figure it out. After that, the rest of the code was simple. Heero was Pilot 01, and his name meant the one and only, so he was in Luxembourg. Duo sighed and pulled the harness over his shoulders and around his waist, tightening it until he was snug in the seat. He closed the ramp hatch door, and waited as he listened to Shinigami's engines fire up.

This time, he would find Heero. And somehow, they'd both stay.

[And I forgot to tell you
I love you.]

This, Duo decided, was the oddest turn of events in his life. He was holding Heero pinned against the wall, one hand holding Heero's wrists together above his head, the other hand pressed against the Wing pilots face.

And he was kissing him.

In all honesty, he wasn't sure who was kissing who, or why, but he knew that he had started it, and Heero had joined in after a few seconds of hesitation. Duo was more than fairly strong, but he knew that if Heero wanted to, he could easily throw him off. But he didn't. Duo paused and pulled away from the other boy, looking at him. Heero looked at him neutrally, and if Duo could say, unsure. Another bomb shook the ground, nearby, and the walls shuddered around them. Duo turned his head sharply to look out the window, looking at the billows if red smoke rising into the night sky.

He blinked when he felt something lean against him, and looked down at Heero's head, resting in the crook of his neck. There had been no grief, barely any expression at all in Heero's eyes a moment ago, but it didn't take tears to convince him. The posture was enough.

Duo prided himself in being able to read the hardest of people, and it was easy to see this. It was a posture of comfort, of hiding. Heero buried his head deeper into the curve of his shoulder as the room shuddered around them again. Duo released his wrists slowly, and Heero's arms fell limply to his sides. With a long pause and periods of hesitation, Duo lifted his arms to slowly encircle Heero's body. Outside, he could hear the hotel manager yelling for evacuation, but Duo ignored it. After all, it had been Heero himself who had set those bombs, and the raid wouldn't reach this far out, not this night.

Outside, Luxembourg burned. One of the hand-full of cities that had survived since the twentieth century, it was now falling apart, the screams of the soldiers and civilians alike rising in the air like the moan of the dying. They were dying, and by morning, they'd be dead. The mission had been to destroy the base located in the center of Luxembourg...but once that was done, no matter how carefully the bombs were placed, the fire would spread to the rest of the city.

Civilians...innocents. No one had to remind Duo that it was wrong for them to die, but it happened sometimes. He knew it happened. He had been forced to kill innocents sometimes to...it was just something that happened in a war, even as wrong as it was.

Duo's breath stilled in his throat as thin, strong arms suddenly came up to crush his body to the other boy. Heero didn't lift his head. Duo breathed again, and a bit of sadness accompanied the pain in his eyes.

"...H-Heero...too tight...Heero..." He whispered desperately, feeling his still healing ribs wince at the painful embrace. There was a pause, and Heero seemed to register his words, because his arms slackened slightly, but didn't release Duo. Duo looked down at the dark brown head of hair with confused eyes.

This wasn't why Heero had called him here. He had been silly to think it was simply for their game. When he had opened the door, he had faced the barrel of a gun. Heero wanted to kill him. It was why he had invited him here in the first place. Duo had stood there, and waited to die. If Heero wanted to kill him, he wouldn't bother stopping him. This was how it was supposed to happen. But Heero wasn't suppose to lower his gun. Heero wasn't supposed to look at him with those wounded, confused eyes. He wasn't supposed to accept Duo's support, to accept his touch when he reached out for him. And most of all, he wasn't supposed to be like this. To hold him like this, to ask for his comfort.

Comfort that Duo gave without thought.

[And the night's too long and cold
here without you.]

Duo lifted his arm and let it drop to the dingy sheets beside him. He wrapped his fingers around the cloth, twisting them absently. He watched them avidly, observing the shadows formed by each fold. He sighed and released the sheets beside him, pulling them up to cover his shoulders slightly. He was tired. He had just finished an attack that night, and he was tired. He wanted to sleep, yet no matter how long he closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, even enough to pull his heart-rate down into a sleep pattern, he couldn't seem to get his brain to stop working.

He yawned, bringing more oxygen to his restless mind. He shifted again, the third time in five minutes, trying to find a bit more warmth. He wasn't usually cold. Cold was something he was used to, and yet...he felt disturbed now. He lifted his hand to ruffle the unused sheets next to him again, as though to make them look like they had been used. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't the same.

Why the hell did he feel so different?

[I grieve in my condition
for I cannot find the strength to say I need you so.]
He threw the sheets off and sat up quickly, planting his feet on the floor. He mumbled incoherent complaints at himself as he stood and walked to the small bathroom attached to his room. He didn't bother closing the door as he stepped in, leaning against the counter. After all, it wasn't as if he were sharing a room with anyone. He laughed bitterly, then looked at himself in the mirror.

Hard, accusing violet eyes met his, a harsh smirk spread across his face. His loose, chestnut hair fell over his shoulders and along his back, some of it pooling on the counter top. And for a long time, he just stayed like that, until the shaking in his arms became too much, and he sank to the counter top. Bent over at the waist, his head resting on his arms, he laugh bitterly. He sighed in relief to find he wasn't hysterical. It wasn't a crazy laugh, and he was glad he was still sane. He was just angry. Just like that he had let Heero do what ever he pleased. Didn't even ask. Didn't even question it. Just gladly spread his legs like a good little whore would. He looked up at his face and felt the bile rise in his throat. He was disgusting.

He turned away almost violently and walked to the shower. He turned the water on, and without waiting for it to warm up, he stepped in. It took a few minutes for the water to soak his hair, but he didn't lift his hands to wash it. He just stood there. The water was cold, and took almost ten minutes to warm up. By then, the water was running on nothing, Duo curled in a corner of the shower. Finally asleep.

[Oh and every time I'm close to you,
there's too much I can't say...]
Duo flexed his fingers slightly before entering the class room. He felt so...defeated. But he did need to find Heero again.

Still...wandering around trying to find the Wing pilot just felt so...pathetic. He sighed. He was just making himself more excuses, and then undoing them again. He closed his fingers over the handle of the door, opening it slowly, then stepping in, his bright grin trained on his face. The class turned to look at him, so did the teacher, but specifically, Heero turned to look at him. He couldn't help it, he looked back. Then the broke gaze, looking away. Duo gazed at the chalk board at the front of the room, and Heero stared at the back wall.

The teacher introduced him briefly and asked him to take a seat. As he did so, he glanced back at Heero again, and winced slightly when he saw the prussian blue eyes had taken on their usual glare. The rest of class, he just sat there and stared at the board, yet taking in nothing the teacher was saying. He didn't look back at Heero, three rows away to the back and to the left, unable to and unwilling to. He was still playing their little game, and he couldn't afford to lose anymore. He had already lost far too much ground, and he planned to win every inch of it back. His pride wouldn't allow him to give in. Not to such a blank and immature boy. Duo snorted slightly, and rested his head on his hand. He was one to speak. After class, he didn't have much trouble finding Heero, considering it was Heero that found him. The Wing pilot sent him another glare, which Duo pointedly ignored. They walked down the hall together in silence. Heero invited him to speak in his dorm, and Duo nodded slightly. When they got there, the conversation was slow and meaningless. Heero demanded to know why he was here. Duo angrily told him that he didn't obey anyone's orders and that he could go where he wanted. They continued arguing.

But Duo knew that wasn't true. He had come here to say something very specific. But his pride wouldn't let him. His dignity wouldn't let him lose anymore, he couldn't. And because of it, he lost a little more of himself.

[...and you just walk away.]
This time, it was Heero that sought him out. After their long and pointless argument in the dorm, they hadn't seen one another for over a month. Duo had the temptation, occasionally, to look up the sources through Deathscythe to try and discover where Heero was. His pride would twinged again, and he'd turn away. So when Heero appeared in the hanger one day, Duo was more than surprised.

He had been staying on the boat with Howard and the sweepers for the last couple weeks, and the last person he expected to show up was Heero. He had climbed down from where he was working on Shinigami, and slowly approached the stoic boy. When Duo was within a foot or so, one of Heero's hands suddenly reached out to snag his arm, pulling him into a harsh kiss. It was clumsy and inexperienced, but it was raw and demanding. He let out a slight cry of surprise and pain, trying to shove against Heero, to pull away, but the other boy didn't let him go. And after awhile, Duo stopped struggling. When Heero finally did pull back, Duo absently tried to lick the blood from his bruised lips as he looked at Heero. He didn't look away.

"Why did you come looking for me?" Heero demanded, his voice as harsh and cold as it had been in the dorm.

"Because I wanted to speak with you." The words came to Duo unbidden, but he struggled with them, his lips too sore and swollen to bring them together properly.

"Why? You said you don't get orders, what concern are you to me?" Heero glared at him. And was shocked when Duo suddenly tore away. Heero's grip had slacked a bit since the kiss, but not so much that he expected Duo to be able to wrench his wrist free. Duo glared at him with equal, if not more, intensity.

"Answer that yourself." With that, Duo spun on his heel and left. Heero stared blankly after the black clad boy, not noticing the broken wrist hanging limply at Duo's side.


[And I forgot to tell you, I love you.]

Duo held his head in his hands, letting out a long sigh. He berated himself over and over again in his head, but it didn't do any good. He still felt the same way. A way he neither wanted to feel, nor needed to.

'Anyone stupid enough to get close to me dies!'

He shuddered.

'War takes away many lives. People never forget the grief, but they never stop the fighting. Streams of blood and tears are only an ornament for their destructive ritual.'

'...they never stop the fighting...'

He lowered his hands from his face to wrap around his shoulders, loosely holding himself. Beneath him, the boat swayed with the ocean.

'War takes away many lives. Many lives. Anyone close to me dies...they die...'

His long, thin legs hung off the end of the bed, crossed at the ankle. He took a deep breath, the waves breaking harshly against the side of the boat. Above him, he could hear the crew yelling warnings of the approaching storm.

'If Solo's with me, we'll be Duo.'

He was alone again. There was a scream from above.

'I'm alone...?'

He let out a harsh cry, drowned out by the lightening.

'...I am destined to be killed by you.'

Outside, the storm broke upon them.


[And the night's too long and cold here without you.]

Deathscythe Hell moved swiftly through the night sky. Silent as Death. Below, a fierce storm was moving across the ocean.

'"Duo!! Duo!"

Duo looked up slowly at the door to his small cabin in the boat. Howard didn't pause to knock, he just burst through. It was policy that doors were never locked, it was dangerous on a boat that carried such precious cargo as a Gundam.

"What...?" Duo stared listlessly at him. For a moment, Howard just gawked.

" 'What' ? You haven't noticed this storm?!"

"...aa...it's a storm." Duo shrugged.

"...Duo..." Howard's eyes widened at the stranger before him. Duo's happy go lucky grin had faded away like mist, and the drollness in his eyes showed even more. Howard had always known there was something wrong with the young pilot, but he had never seen him so...dead.

"I'm fine." Duo nodded slightly and smiled, standing up and meeting Howard's eyes. It was such a drastic change that for a moment Howard was shocked. Then relieved. He once believed that if someone could show their true face, you could help them. But sometimes, it was just easier to pretend you never saw it.

"Good. The storm is too bad. I'm not sure how much of it we can stand up to. Take the Gundam and get going. We'll probably be fine, but I don't want to take any chances with you or the Gundam." Duo paused, staring at Howard. He nodded.'

Thin, pale hands gripped the console controls tightly.

'He runs, he hides, he does everything, but he never lies.'

Yeah, just like Death. The ultimate truth. And he was running away again. Below him, below the cloud's of the storm, the boat sailed on. Duo moaned and leaned over a bit more. He wondered if Heero had gotten out before the storm hit...

He looked up when a message appeared on his right hand view screen. He blinked - it was Howard's face.

"Yo!...Duo!...sorry. You just may have to take care of your own Gundam next time, eh? That's what you get for putting all this work on an old man."

Duo eyes widened.

"Don't worry though, we're all here to see the colonies free."

'People never forget the grief. But they never stop the fighting.'

"S...stop..." Duo tried to say it louder, but it didn't work, and his voice was lost before the word was formed.

"So, we did what we wanted to." There was a scream coming from behind Howard. "I think the war'll be over one day, won't it?"

'They never stop the fighting...ever...they never stop.'

"Howard!"

The screen blanked out in static.

'Anyone stupid enough to get close to me DIES.'

Duo slumped in the harness.


[I grieve in my condition,
for I cannot find the strength to say I need you so.]
Over the sky, Deathscythe Hell flew. Silent as Death. Dark as the night's sky. Duo opened his eyes slowly. Someone else had died because of him. He looked up, out of the view screens. He knew Heero had gotten away though - a storm couldn't kill him. He killed everyone close to him, and he had allowed Heero close. But this time, maybe he'd die too. After all, Heero had said that he would kill him. And he was destined to be killed by him.

'...aren't you going to do it...naa...Heero?'

End of Part One.