I'm crying. God damn it, I haven't cried in months, much less over a *very* un original piece of ... fanfiction. Not drivel, fanfiction. Whatever. Anyway, for those that haven't slipped off to the chapter while I wasn't looking *glares*, I'm crying because I'm listening to "Creep" by Radiohead, I'm nervous because of how pathetically sad I am at the loss of one I love. But most of all - It's over ... it's all over. This part of the arch is over! I started this *last year*, and it means something to me (and, DAMN, I hate when that happens). So review, for Christ sake, review. I'm sorry to say that I'm taking a wiiide turn with this fic ... it might not be what you expect. Needless to say, you might not like it. But that's not what this is about, this is about the end. So, I think I'll propose a toast *raises glass of chocolate milk* To endings ... because in the end, what was once beautiful was always dead and was inevitably done before it started on paper in the pen. thank you.
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Humanity is Ephemeral; Immortality is Forever
Ai shiteru. Duo-chan, ai shiteru. Duo-chan, anata o ai shiteru matamata. He'd heard them all a million times! I love you, I love you - Little Duo, I will love you again and again ( as though his love would last through the ages). But now, just recently, he'd wanted to whisper those words into the dark, hoping that they'd be caught by the person lying, shamelessly, next to him. Not to Duo, of course, but it might as well have been - Quatre wasn't claimed to be his either - they were on the same dreaded level ... friendship. No one was *truly* his - not even Meiran. Not even his wife, though together in spirit, they were never one in body. Truly.
So now he packed his bags. Pants, shirts, his glass rose, some personal items, katana on top. He slipped his shoes on, grabbed his plane tickets and money, and placed a letter on his neatly made bed. He left it to explain himself, to drop a few hints, and to possibly redeem himself for the uproar that he had caused at Quatre's expense.
Throwing the bag on his shoulder, he glanced at the glowing alarm clock that, just two weeks ago, had told him at three thirty-six in the morning to get a grip. He stepped lightly to the doorway and turned around to look back once more. He let his eyes feast upon the room in which he'd lived for the past year and a half. Gazing first at the closet that Duo had hidden in - where he and Quatre almost kissed. Disappointment. Conscience. He let his thoughts linger as his eyes traveled on, towards the spot where he'd fallen at the fault of Meiran. Hurt. Immediate Understanding. And, for what he meant to be the last time, he turned and quietly made his way to the front door to wait outside for his taxi to the airport.
"It's 2:29 am, do you know where *your* friend is?" Continues to walk.
"Do you? huh, Wufei?" Keeps turning door knob. Ignores light in face. Turns head.
"On the couch, middle cushion, legs crossed, braid around shoulders." Opens door.
"Are you sure you're doing the honorable thing? I know that there's at least *one* blonde haired, sweet, kind, and heartbroken person that needs you here. To lean on." Takes one step out. stops. Turns. Sighs.
"Yes. No. Yes..." Closes door. Walks to taxi. Opens door. Sits down with bag. Closes door. "To the airport, please. Just to the airport."
~~~*~~~
With Quatre home from the hospital, everything seemed so much more cheery. And he'd only been home five minutes. The first thing he asked was where Wufei was, and Heero promptly told him that he was 'still sleeping in his room'. So Quatre, cheery as ever, walked upstairs and down the hall. Or rather, he walked to Trowa's room first, and then down the hall. After five minutes of contemplating as to whether or not to knock, he settled on barging in quietly - using the 'I'm not making a scene' move.
"Hello?" He let the word float into the room on a storm cloud and rain over the contents of the once-occupied room. All that was left of the uni-banged pilot's existence was the bed (although stripped of sheets, pillows, and blankets), an old picture frame, and the curtains. Stepping lightly so not to disturb the memories, Quatre walked in and sat down on the naked bed, falling backward slowly and closing his eyes. He remembered very clearly the last time he laid in Trowa's arms, safe in the comfort and warmth of their strength. How they had kissed, softly. How he had been happy ... they had been happy. Or so he thought.
"Wufei..." Suddenly he shot up, remembering his original destination. 'There's no use in being sad,' He closed the door to Trowa's ex-room, 'When there are things to be settled.' He walked briskly down the hall and, when he reached Wufei's door, took a deep breath. 'Remember, he's not to feel responsible - I'm at fault. Me.'
"Wufei?" Knock. Knock. No answer. "Wufei? Are you there?" Loud knock. No answer. Silence.
"I haven't heard from him since last night." Quatre spun around to see Heero standing at the end of the hallway. "Last night at dinner. And he didn't eat as much as he usually does." Seeing fit that there was closure, Heero went back down the stairs and was silent. 'Well then, I guess I should go in and see what's wrong with him...' He pushed open the door slowly, so as to not wake Wufei, but found out immediately that that precaution wasn't needed. Wufei was nowhere in sight. The bed was made, the room was clean, and sitting, in plain view in his black pillowcase, was a single sheet of paper. Quatre walked right on over to it and, as hard as it was, proceeded to read it.
To Heero, Duo, Trowa (if he's returned) and Quatre,
I have caused a lot of pain and uproar in the house over the past few months, I know. And I apologize. Sometimes ... sometimes it's better to let your emotions show through your mask. That is exactly what they told us not to think - to forget our emotions. Maybe that's how I should have lived in the first place. But I was just so attracted to Quatre ... and it wasn't his huge eyes, or his blonde hair or any of the usual things, it was his innocence. I've never met anyone so innocent in my entire life. and I just wanted to touch his immaculate soul and smear some grease on it the way you want to rip candy out of a baby's hands.
Don't. Don't hate me. I love you all, and I find it all too much for me to bear now that Trowa has tried to kill Quatre and because of me. If he'd died, I don't know what I would have done - I think I would have died myself. A good friend would have died, all the mourning ... there's too much blood on my hands as it is. I'm not over Meiran yet, let alone Treize ... but Quatre just would have been the last straw.
But, anyway, I'm gone. I'm outta here. I refuse to tell you where, but don't worry, I'll be back. In the meantime, don't sell what I've left here in the house, and don't come looking for me. You won't find me. I'm leaving my journal to Quatre, and all my books to Trowa (whenever he shows up again) and my bank account to Heero (because I know he won't spend any of the money). I'll keep in touch with all of you, don't worry.
I heard a song once, a very old song, from the 90's. It was on an anime, the last episode. anyway, there was this one line that said something like "Everything is clearer now..." I can see so much clearer now ... I see why people fall in love, and why they stray in groups. Why teenagers take hard drugs, and why their mother's freak out when they come home stoned. I see why I killed that bastard Treize, whom I both loathed and admired. I see why Heero tolerates Duo, and where that glass rose that Quatre found came from. And maybe one day you'll be able to see why I have to leave and start over from scratch. You know, that song made me cry ... and it made me see with blind eyes - we all have to do things for our benefit, even though they hurt us, they help us, and they make us interesting. I knew a girl once who cut her arms to see the blood so that she'd feel human - she was in love with a poet who would wake her up late at night to read her poetry from below her window in the cold. He lied the rain. She'd only smoke cherry-flavored cigarettes and purposely broke up with the perfect man of hers to feel the pain of loss. and then regretted it. she was both the most romantic and human person I'd ever met. Do you see what I mean?
I'm just ranting, and I need to leave. I'll miss you all, and I've got a mission for you. I looked up the song "Blue" by The Seatbelts ... from the old anime "Cowboy Bebop" and put it on this disc. Listen to it and think of me, won't you?
-Wufei
Quatre solemnly popped the CD into Wufei's CD player with the air of someone who'd just been socked in the stomach and listened. The song didn't get past the beginning choral part before he began to sob into his hands, coating them with his 'immaculate' tears. He didn't sob at the beauty of the choir, or at the loss of a friend - he sobbed at the mistake his friend had made. It was so purely human, just as the mistakes he, himself, had committed.
____________________________________________________________________________
That is my message - yes, it had one. We all make mistakes - big, fat, ugly, permanent ones. Those are what make us mortal, and human. And in the end, we're all human, aren't we?
__________________________________________________________________________________
Humanity is Ephemeral; Immortality is Forever
Ai shiteru. Duo-chan, ai shiteru. Duo-chan, anata o ai shiteru matamata. He'd heard them all a million times! I love you, I love you - Little Duo, I will love you again and again ( as though his love would last through the ages). But now, just recently, he'd wanted to whisper those words into the dark, hoping that they'd be caught by the person lying, shamelessly, next to him. Not to Duo, of course, but it might as well have been - Quatre wasn't claimed to be his either - they were on the same dreaded level ... friendship. No one was *truly* his - not even Meiran. Not even his wife, though together in spirit, they were never one in body. Truly.
So now he packed his bags. Pants, shirts, his glass rose, some personal items, katana on top. He slipped his shoes on, grabbed his plane tickets and money, and placed a letter on his neatly made bed. He left it to explain himself, to drop a few hints, and to possibly redeem himself for the uproar that he had caused at Quatre's expense.
Throwing the bag on his shoulder, he glanced at the glowing alarm clock that, just two weeks ago, had told him at three thirty-six in the morning to get a grip. He stepped lightly to the doorway and turned around to look back once more. He let his eyes feast upon the room in which he'd lived for the past year and a half. Gazing first at the closet that Duo had hidden in - where he and Quatre almost kissed. Disappointment. Conscience. He let his thoughts linger as his eyes traveled on, towards the spot where he'd fallen at the fault of Meiran. Hurt. Immediate Understanding. And, for what he meant to be the last time, he turned and quietly made his way to the front door to wait outside for his taxi to the airport.
"It's 2:29 am, do you know where *your* friend is?" Continues to walk.
"Do you? huh, Wufei?" Keeps turning door knob. Ignores light in face. Turns head.
"On the couch, middle cushion, legs crossed, braid around shoulders." Opens door.
"Are you sure you're doing the honorable thing? I know that there's at least *one* blonde haired, sweet, kind, and heartbroken person that needs you here. To lean on." Takes one step out. stops. Turns. Sighs.
"Yes. No. Yes..." Closes door. Walks to taxi. Opens door. Sits down with bag. Closes door. "To the airport, please. Just to the airport."
~~~*~~~
With Quatre home from the hospital, everything seemed so much more cheery. And he'd only been home five minutes. The first thing he asked was where Wufei was, and Heero promptly told him that he was 'still sleeping in his room'. So Quatre, cheery as ever, walked upstairs and down the hall. Or rather, he walked to Trowa's room first, and then down the hall. After five minutes of contemplating as to whether or not to knock, he settled on barging in quietly - using the 'I'm not making a scene' move.
"Hello?" He let the word float into the room on a storm cloud and rain over the contents of the once-occupied room. All that was left of the uni-banged pilot's existence was the bed (although stripped of sheets, pillows, and blankets), an old picture frame, and the curtains. Stepping lightly so not to disturb the memories, Quatre walked in and sat down on the naked bed, falling backward slowly and closing his eyes. He remembered very clearly the last time he laid in Trowa's arms, safe in the comfort and warmth of their strength. How they had kissed, softly. How he had been happy ... they had been happy. Or so he thought.
"Wufei..." Suddenly he shot up, remembering his original destination. 'There's no use in being sad,' He closed the door to Trowa's ex-room, 'When there are things to be settled.' He walked briskly down the hall and, when he reached Wufei's door, took a deep breath. 'Remember, he's not to feel responsible - I'm at fault. Me.'
"Wufei?" Knock. Knock. No answer. "Wufei? Are you there?" Loud knock. No answer. Silence.
"I haven't heard from him since last night." Quatre spun around to see Heero standing at the end of the hallway. "Last night at dinner. And he didn't eat as much as he usually does." Seeing fit that there was closure, Heero went back down the stairs and was silent. 'Well then, I guess I should go in and see what's wrong with him...' He pushed open the door slowly, so as to not wake Wufei, but found out immediately that that precaution wasn't needed. Wufei was nowhere in sight. The bed was made, the room was clean, and sitting, in plain view in his black pillowcase, was a single sheet of paper. Quatre walked right on over to it and, as hard as it was, proceeded to read it.
To Heero, Duo, Trowa (if he's returned) and Quatre,
I have caused a lot of pain and uproar in the house over the past few months, I know. And I apologize. Sometimes ... sometimes it's better to let your emotions show through your mask. That is exactly what they told us not to think - to forget our emotions. Maybe that's how I should have lived in the first place. But I was just so attracted to Quatre ... and it wasn't his huge eyes, or his blonde hair or any of the usual things, it was his innocence. I've never met anyone so innocent in my entire life. and I just wanted to touch his immaculate soul and smear some grease on it the way you want to rip candy out of a baby's hands.
Don't. Don't hate me. I love you all, and I find it all too much for me to bear now that Trowa has tried to kill Quatre and because of me. If he'd died, I don't know what I would have done - I think I would have died myself. A good friend would have died, all the mourning ... there's too much blood on my hands as it is. I'm not over Meiran yet, let alone Treize ... but Quatre just would have been the last straw.
But, anyway, I'm gone. I'm outta here. I refuse to tell you where, but don't worry, I'll be back. In the meantime, don't sell what I've left here in the house, and don't come looking for me. You won't find me. I'm leaving my journal to Quatre, and all my books to Trowa (whenever he shows up again) and my bank account to Heero (because I know he won't spend any of the money). I'll keep in touch with all of you, don't worry.
I heard a song once, a very old song, from the 90's. It was on an anime, the last episode. anyway, there was this one line that said something like "Everything is clearer now..." I can see so much clearer now ... I see why people fall in love, and why they stray in groups. Why teenagers take hard drugs, and why their mother's freak out when they come home stoned. I see why I killed that bastard Treize, whom I both loathed and admired. I see why Heero tolerates Duo, and where that glass rose that Quatre found came from. And maybe one day you'll be able to see why I have to leave and start over from scratch. You know, that song made me cry ... and it made me see with blind eyes - we all have to do things for our benefit, even though they hurt us, they help us, and they make us interesting. I knew a girl once who cut her arms to see the blood so that she'd feel human - she was in love with a poet who would wake her up late at night to read her poetry from below her window in the cold. He lied the rain. She'd only smoke cherry-flavored cigarettes and purposely broke up with the perfect man of hers to feel the pain of loss. and then regretted it. she was both the most romantic and human person I'd ever met. Do you see what I mean?
I'm just ranting, and I need to leave. I'll miss you all, and I've got a mission for you. I looked up the song "Blue" by The Seatbelts ... from the old anime "Cowboy Bebop" and put it on this disc. Listen to it and think of me, won't you?
-Wufei
Quatre solemnly popped the CD into Wufei's CD player with the air of someone who'd just been socked in the stomach and listened. The song didn't get past the beginning choral part before he began to sob into his hands, coating them with his 'immaculate' tears. He didn't sob at the beauty of the choir, or at the loss of a friend - he sobbed at the mistake his friend had made. It was so purely human, just as the mistakes he, himself, had committed.
____________________________________________________________________________
That is my message - yes, it had one. We all make mistakes - big, fat, ugly, permanent ones. Those are what make us mortal, and human. And in the end, we're all human, aren't we?