Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. I do however own Hilda St. Michaels.
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The Reward
By: Hurricane Hilda
Zechs shivered beneath his heavy winter coat. Snow began to fall from the cold grey sky. Another early winter in the Sanq Kingdom. Earlier than usual. It was a week before his birthday. His birthday. Another year in this world. The years seemed longer now, since the war had ended. Alone and uneasy in a new world of peace. Yes, that's how Zechs would describe his life. Lost in his thoughts, he shuffled down this crowded streets of his home country's capital. Instinctively he stopped at a corner. His ice blue eyes looked up from beneath snowy blonde bangs. He saw an elderly woman crossing the street, coming toward him. And in the not-too-distance, Zechs heard screeching tires. Something came over him and the former Lightning Count ran and dove for the old woman, managing to scoop her up into his arms. He landed hard on his back, breaking the old woman's fall. God must have been on his side, for as he landed, a rusted white Malibu spun down the street, having lost traction on the newly slick roads. The car missed them by only a mere six inches. Breathing hard, Zechs got up.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" He asked. His low voice was weak. The old woman brushed snow from her clothes and looked up at her tall, long haired rescuer.
"Oh, my. That was quite heroic of you. I owe you my life," She told him.
"It was really nothing, ma'am." Zechs solemnly said to her.
"Oh, no. Not just anyone would have risked their own life for an old hag like me. You should be rewarded." The elderly lady told him. Zechs knew that he'd feel guilty taking money from her. She was an elderly woman and he was the prince of the Sanq Kingdom. Did she have any family? Any means of support? He obviously didn't need the money. Zechs was financially secure for the rest of his life.
"Please, I need no reward." Zechs said, shaking his head.
"I insist." The old woman smiled, taking Zechs' hand in her's. She traced some pattern into his palm with her index finger. A trifle bit disturbed, Zechs watched the woman.
"Oh, great," Zechs thought to himself, "I rescued a nut."
"As a reward for saving me, I will grant you true love." The old woman said, letting Zechs have his hand back. Zechs let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. A little cloud of warm air rose from Zechs' mouth into the cold October air. He shivered, but not from the cold. Because of a thought.
"True love?" He wondered, "I hope she doesn't mean herself."
The old woman broke his train of thought as she began to speak, "You will meet a young lady, your true love. You two must learn to love each other within seven days, and prove that you love each other."
"Or else?" Zechs asked, skeptically.
"Or else she vanishes and you never will fall in love ever again," The elderly woman answered.
"So where will I..." Zechs began to pose another question. However, before he could finish he realized that the woman was gone. He let out a deep breath. "Maybe this is all a dream," he muttered as he began to walk. He didn't know quite where he was going. Just that he was walking. Soon enough he found himself at the front door of a bar not far from his home. He pushed the door open and walked inside. Warmth hit him like a wave. Zechs walked to the bar and took a seat on the high bar stool.
"Whatta ya' have?" The bartender asked. Zechs looked down at the counter top, a habit when sitting at bars, and did not make eye-contact with the other man. In fact, Zechs barely ever noticed the dark haired bar keep standing over him.
"Wild turkey alcohol," Zechs said. "Just give me the bottle." With a friendly laugh, the bartender placed the large amber bottle and a shot glass on the bar in front of Zechs. Once the bartender had left him alone, Zechs poured himself a shot, and took it.
"You shouldn't drink, you know," A voice told him. This voice was cheery and feminine and definitely not in his head. Zechs turned to his right, to see who the voice belonged to. Sitting beside him was a young woman, looking to be in her early twenties, like himself. She smiled at him, her whole face friendly, and her pale green eyes lit up behind her small oval wire frame glasses. Her long curly black hair was worn down. The woman wore an over-sized beige sweater, probably a man's, over a navy pleated skirt.
"My heart's gone. My mind's gone. Might as well lose the liver and kidneys too." Zechs said, looking away again. His tone was very low and depressing.
"No, that's not the right attitude at all." The girl laughed. "Why are you so glum? Didja just get dumped? I bet you were stood up. What's the deal?"
"I was not dumped, or stood up," Zechs said, a slight growl in his voice. He was getting annoyed with this person. Who ever she was, she was reminding him of his sister. Relena was always prying into his life too. "But Milliardo," she'd say, "I only love you."
"So why are you so sad? You look like you just came from a funeral."
"I just saved some one's life." Zechs told the girl as he took another shot of his drink. She began to laugh. Zechs narrowed his blue eyes at the woman. "And just who are you?"
"My name is Hilda St Michaels. And you are?" Hilda asked.
"Milliardo Peacecraft. But I prefer to be called Zechs. Zechs Marquise." He said, grimly. Again, Hilda laughed. She was so full of life. So much like Relena. So annoying. "So if you don't drink, what are you doing in a bar?"
"I wash dishes here to make money. I'm on my break," She said with a bright smile. A pretty girl like her? Washing dishes? That, Zechs found very hard to believe. Hilda continued, "It pays my expenses. Food, clothing, hotel bills."
"You live in hotels?" Zechs skeptically asked. He took another shot of the liquor in front of him. The bottle was nearly empty. Or as this Hilda woman would probably say, "Just a little bit full."
"Well, my parents and I didn't get along..." She began.
"So you ran away?" Zechs finished for her.
"No, they kicked me out." Hilda responded. Her voice may have sounded down and her smile may have even faltered. But if they did, it was only a brief passing view of a not-so-happy Hilda. But before anyone could notice, she was bright and happy again. "I've been living on my own for a few years now. Zechs took the last shot from the bottle, then flagged the bartender for his bill. Zechs put down a bill and got up. With out even a good bye he left the bar, making his way back into the cold. The snow was piling up on the side walk. The walk home was long and cold. Zechs was alone, but he kept hearing that woman's voice.
"You shouldn't drink. Why are you so glum? Did you just come from a funeral?" Her lines would not get out of his head. He let out an angry sigh. This was great. Just what he needed. Another annoying voice telling him what to do. As if Relena, Noin and his conscious weren't enough. No, now this girl needs to add herself to Zechs' ever growing migraine. He unlocked the front door of his townhouse. Another voice entered his mind. The old woman.
"You will meet your true love. And if you do not fall in love, and prove your love for her, you will never fall in love again." Zechs pushed the voice aside as he walked into his warm home. He hung his coat up on the hook by the door. As he walked into the kitchen, his blue eyes fell randomly on the well stocked wine rack.
"You shouldn't drink." That woman's voice said again in his mind. Zechs, exhausted, sat down at his kitchen table. As he slumped in his seat he could almost hear that girl from the bar say something reprimanding like "You should sit up straight," or "You shouldn't slouch, you know." She would be one strict mother some day.
"If that old woman meant that the bar girl was my true love, well then, I'll just live alone." Zechs said. He let out a deep sigh. He looked around his clean, sparsely decorated home and laughed, "Maybe I'll get a cat. Yes, a cat to fill the void of love." He laughed again. But his laughter soon faded out and Zechs was again made aware that he was alone. The house was very quiet. Silently Zechs made himself dinner, then ate. Still silent, he cleared his dishes away. He was used to the quietness of solitude. His lonely night went for several more hours. Eventually, Zechs went to bed. In the morning he awoke, bathed and dressed, combed his long blonde hair and looked in the mirror. On the out side he saw a handsome face, framed with his soft snowy bangs and his icy blue eyes looking from beneath. On the inside, however, Zechs saw in himself a man that had killed as a profession, a man with blood permanently stained on his hands. A low groan, and Zechs turned away from the mirror. He thought back to yesterday and the "reward" from that old lady. True love. With a rather snort of a laugh, Zechs pushed the idea of love out of his mind.
For the next few days Zechs went about his days, forgetting the "dream girl" that was supposed to appear to him. Zechs' birthday drew closer, along with his dead line on love. Amazing how something as important and essential as love can so easily be pushed out of a man's mind. Before Zechs knew it, it was the sixth day.
"Rrrr-ing! Rrrr-ing!" Zechs' phone broke the silence of the morning. Lazily, he picked up the phone and spoke into the receiver.
"Hello?" Zechs' deep voice asked. He didn't really sound enthusiastic.
"Hello, dear brother," A far too perky female's voice practically yelled over the line.
With a sigh Zechs recognized the laugh, "Hello, Relena. What do you want?"
"Well, I just wanted to tell you that we are having a birthday party for you tomorrow. Alright! See ya then! I love you, Milliardo," Relena spouted in what seemed like one breath.
"That's fine. I love you too. Bye," He said. Then he hung up. But those words rung in his mind. "I love you." Suddenly memories from a mere few days ago resurfaced. The dead line. The dead line was tomorrow, and Zechs had not met his dream girl, let alone convinced her to love him.
"That girl," Zechs said out loud, "That bar girl." He put on his coat and scarf and quickly rushed out of the house and on to the streets. It would seem hopeless, to convince a woman he doesn't love to fall in love with him in only one day. After what seemed like a walk of a mile, Zechs got to that corner bar where he first met that woman, Hilda St. Michaels. He walked inside, hung up his coat and scarf, and took as seat on the bar stool that he had sat on before. With in moments he heard her cheerful voice.
"You shouldn't drink, you know," Hilda told a customer. To his surprise, the customer responded.
"Yeah, you are right. So bill me for the beer, bring me a Coke, and give me your number," a semi familiar voice laughed. Hilda laughed too. When Zechs looked over, he was rather shocked to see who the voice belonged to. Sitting at a table with Hilda was none other than Chang Wu Fei, wearing a baggy pair of jeans, white t shirt, and a black sweat jacket hung on the back of his chair. For a change, Wu Fei's hair was down, and Hilda was running her fingers through it. Zechs didn't intentionally listen in on their conversation, but he found that he couldn't stop paying them attention.
"So you say you beat a buncha thugs and got a old woman's purse back?" Hilda said, pushing a glass of Coca Cola toward Wu Fei.
"Yes, I was just riding my motorcycle down the road, when I head a woman scream 'He took my bag!' So I went after 'em, beat 'em up, and gave the woman her bag back." Wu Fei told Hilda.
"You did the right thing. Delivering justice and all." Hilda said as she smiled.
"Hey, I didn't think of it that way." Wu Fei said, then continued his story, "So the old woman told me that as a reward for getting her purse back, I would experience true love."
Zechs could not take much more after that. He was asked for his order, but he declined, and stood up. Sadly he left the bar. Even he didn't love her, how could she be some one else's dream girl? Life is unfair, especially when it comes to love. And with that, Zechs' tragic love story comes to a close.
The End.
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The Reward
By: Hurricane Hilda
Zechs shivered beneath his heavy winter coat. Snow began to fall from the cold grey sky. Another early winter in the Sanq Kingdom. Earlier than usual. It was a week before his birthday. His birthday. Another year in this world. The years seemed longer now, since the war had ended. Alone and uneasy in a new world of peace. Yes, that's how Zechs would describe his life. Lost in his thoughts, he shuffled down this crowded streets of his home country's capital. Instinctively he stopped at a corner. His ice blue eyes looked up from beneath snowy blonde bangs. He saw an elderly woman crossing the street, coming toward him. And in the not-too-distance, Zechs heard screeching tires. Something came over him and the former Lightning Count ran and dove for the old woman, managing to scoop her up into his arms. He landed hard on his back, breaking the old woman's fall. God must have been on his side, for as he landed, a rusted white Malibu spun down the street, having lost traction on the newly slick roads. The car missed them by only a mere six inches. Breathing hard, Zechs got up.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" He asked. His low voice was weak. The old woman brushed snow from her clothes and looked up at her tall, long haired rescuer.
"Oh, my. That was quite heroic of you. I owe you my life," She told him.
"It was really nothing, ma'am." Zechs solemnly said to her.
"Oh, no. Not just anyone would have risked their own life for an old hag like me. You should be rewarded." The elderly lady told him. Zechs knew that he'd feel guilty taking money from her. She was an elderly woman and he was the prince of the Sanq Kingdom. Did she have any family? Any means of support? He obviously didn't need the money. Zechs was financially secure for the rest of his life.
"Please, I need no reward." Zechs said, shaking his head.
"I insist." The old woman smiled, taking Zechs' hand in her's. She traced some pattern into his palm with her index finger. A trifle bit disturbed, Zechs watched the woman.
"Oh, great," Zechs thought to himself, "I rescued a nut."
"As a reward for saving me, I will grant you true love." The old woman said, letting Zechs have his hand back. Zechs let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. A little cloud of warm air rose from Zechs' mouth into the cold October air. He shivered, but not from the cold. Because of a thought.
"True love?" He wondered, "I hope she doesn't mean herself."
The old woman broke his train of thought as she began to speak, "You will meet a young lady, your true love. You two must learn to love each other within seven days, and prove that you love each other."
"Or else?" Zechs asked, skeptically.
"Or else she vanishes and you never will fall in love ever again," The elderly woman answered.
"So where will I..." Zechs began to pose another question. However, before he could finish he realized that the woman was gone. He let out a deep breath. "Maybe this is all a dream," he muttered as he began to walk. He didn't know quite where he was going. Just that he was walking. Soon enough he found himself at the front door of a bar not far from his home. He pushed the door open and walked inside. Warmth hit him like a wave. Zechs walked to the bar and took a seat on the high bar stool.
"Whatta ya' have?" The bartender asked. Zechs looked down at the counter top, a habit when sitting at bars, and did not make eye-contact with the other man. In fact, Zechs barely ever noticed the dark haired bar keep standing over him.
"Wild turkey alcohol," Zechs said. "Just give me the bottle." With a friendly laugh, the bartender placed the large amber bottle and a shot glass on the bar in front of Zechs. Once the bartender had left him alone, Zechs poured himself a shot, and took it.
"You shouldn't drink, you know," A voice told him. This voice was cheery and feminine and definitely not in his head. Zechs turned to his right, to see who the voice belonged to. Sitting beside him was a young woman, looking to be in her early twenties, like himself. She smiled at him, her whole face friendly, and her pale green eyes lit up behind her small oval wire frame glasses. Her long curly black hair was worn down. The woman wore an over-sized beige sweater, probably a man's, over a navy pleated skirt.
"My heart's gone. My mind's gone. Might as well lose the liver and kidneys too." Zechs said, looking away again. His tone was very low and depressing.
"No, that's not the right attitude at all." The girl laughed. "Why are you so glum? Didja just get dumped? I bet you were stood up. What's the deal?"
"I was not dumped, or stood up," Zechs said, a slight growl in his voice. He was getting annoyed with this person. Who ever she was, she was reminding him of his sister. Relena was always prying into his life too. "But Milliardo," she'd say, "I only love you."
"So why are you so sad? You look like you just came from a funeral."
"I just saved some one's life." Zechs told the girl as he took another shot of his drink. She began to laugh. Zechs narrowed his blue eyes at the woman. "And just who are you?"
"My name is Hilda St Michaels. And you are?" Hilda asked.
"Milliardo Peacecraft. But I prefer to be called Zechs. Zechs Marquise." He said, grimly. Again, Hilda laughed. She was so full of life. So much like Relena. So annoying. "So if you don't drink, what are you doing in a bar?"
"I wash dishes here to make money. I'm on my break," She said with a bright smile. A pretty girl like her? Washing dishes? That, Zechs found very hard to believe. Hilda continued, "It pays my expenses. Food, clothing, hotel bills."
"You live in hotels?" Zechs skeptically asked. He took another shot of the liquor in front of him. The bottle was nearly empty. Or as this Hilda woman would probably say, "Just a little bit full."
"Well, my parents and I didn't get along..." She began.
"So you ran away?" Zechs finished for her.
"No, they kicked me out." Hilda responded. Her voice may have sounded down and her smile may have even faltered. But if they did, it was only a brief passing view of a not-so-happy Hilda. But before anyone could notice, she was bright and happy again. "I've been living on my own for a few years now. Zechs took the last shot from the bottle, then flagged the bartender for his bill. Zechs put down a bill and got up. With out even a good bye he left the bar, making his way back into the cold. The snow was piling up on the side walk. The walk home was long and cold. Zechs was alone, but he kept hearing that woman's voice.
"You shouldn't drink. Why are you so glum? Did you just come from a funeral?" Her lines would not get out of his head. He let out an angry sigh. This was great. Just what he needed. Another annoying voice telling him what to do. As if Relena, Noin and his conscious weren't enough. No, now this girl needs to add herself to Zechs' ever growing migraine. He unlocked the front door of his townhouse. Another voice entered his mind. The old woman.
"You will meet your true love. And if you do not fall in love, and prove your love for her, you will never fall in love again." Zechs pushed the voice aside as he walked into his warm home. He hung his coat up on the hook by the door. As he walked into the kitchen, his blue eyes fell randomly on the well stocked wine rack.
"You shouldn't drink." That woman's voice said again in his mind. Zechs, exhausted, sat down at his kitchen table. As he slumped in his seat he could almost hear that girl from the bar say something reprimanding like "You should sit up straight," or "You shouldn't slouch, you know." She would be one strict mother some day.
"If that old woman meant that the bar girl was my true love, well then, I'll just live alone." Zechs said. He let out a deep sigh. He looked around his clean, sparsely decorated home and laughed, "Maybe I'll get a cat. Yes, a cat to fill the void of love." He laughed again. But his laughter soon faded out and Zechs was again made aware that he was alone. The house was very quiet. Silently Zechs made himself dinner, then ate. Still silent, he cleared his dishes away. He was used to the quietness of solitude. His lonely night went for several more hours. Eventually, Zechs went to bed. In the morning he awoke, bathed and dressed, combed his long blonde hair and looked in the mirror. On the out side he saw a handsome face, framed with his soft snowy bangs and his icy blue eyes looking from beneath. On the inside, however, Zechs saw in himself a man that had killed as a profession, a man with blood permanently stained on his hands. A low groan, and Zechs turned away from the mirror. He thought back to yesterday and the "reward" from that old lady. True love. With a rather snort of a laugh, Zechs pushed the idea of love out of his mind.
For the next few days Zechs went about his days, forgetting the "dream girl" that was supposed to appear to him. Zechs' birthday drew closer, along with his dead line on love. Amazing how something as important and essential as love can so easily be pushed out of a man's mind. Before Zechs knew it, it was the sixth day.
"Rrrr-ing! Rrrr-ing!" Zechs' phone broke the silence of the morning. Lazily, he picked up the phone and spoke into the receiver.
"Hello?" Zechs' deep voice asked. He didn't really sound enthusiastic.
"Hello, dear brother," A far too perky female's voice practically yelled over the line.
With a sigh Zechs recognized the laugh, "Hello, Relena. What do you want?"
"Well, I just wanted to tell you that we are having a birthday party for you tomorrow. Alright! See ya then! I love you, Milliardo," Relena spouted in what seemed like one breath.
"That's fine. I love you too. Bye," He said. Then he hung up. But those words rung in his mind. "I love you." Suddenly memories from a mere few days ago resurfaced. The dead line. The dead line was tomorrow, and Zechs had not met his dream girl, let alone convinced her to love him.
"That girl," Zechs said out loud, "That bar girl." He put on his coat and scarf and quickly rushed out of the house and on to the streets. It would seem hopeless, to convince a woman he doesn't love to fall in love with him in only one day. After what seemed like a walk of a mile, Zechs got to that corner bar where he first met that woman, Hilda St. Michaels. He walked inside, hung up his coat and scarf, and took as seat on the bar stool that he had sat on before. With in moments he heard her cheerful voice.
"You shouldn't drink, you know," Hilda told a customer. To his surprise, the customer responded.
"Yeah, you are right. So bill me for the beer, bring me a Coke, and give me your number," a semi familiar voice laughed. Hilda laughed too. When Zechs looked over, he was rather shocked to see who the voice belonged to. Sitting at a table with Hilda was none other than Chang Wu Fei, wearing a baggy pair of jeans, white t shirt, and a black sweat jacket hung on the back of his chair. For a change, Wu Fei's hair was down, and Hilda was running her fingers through it. Zechs didn't intentionally listen in on their conversation, but he found that he couldn't stop paying them attention.
"So you say you beat a buncha thugs and got a old woman's purse back?" Hilda said, pushing a glass of Coca Cola toward Wu Fei.
"Yes, I was just riding my motorcycle down the road, when I head a woman scream 'He took my bag!' So I went after 'em, beat 'em up, and gave the woman her bag back." Wu Fei told Hilda.
"You did the right thing. Delivering justice and all." Hilda said as she smiled.
"Hey, I didn't think of it that way." Wu Fei said, then continued his story, "So the old woman told me that as a reward for getting her purse back, I would experience true love."
Zechs could not take much more after that. He was asked for his order, but he declined, and stood up. Sadly he left the bar. Even he didn't love her, how could she be some one else's dream girl? Life is unfair, especially when it comes to love. And with that, Zechs' tragic love story comes to a close.
The End.