The Perfect Soldier
Chapter 10: Conversation and Coffee
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A single violet eye examined the woman who was methodically inspecting a bandaged wrist. The cobalt gaze was eerie in its intensity, as if it could see through gauze and skin to the muscles beneath.
"Does it still hurt?" the woman asked after a long, unbroken silence.
The violet eye narrowed. "Like hell."
The wrist was replaced on the bed and the woman reached for the bandage around the prone girl's head. Eventually, the owner of the violet eye grew too curious to stop her tongue.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"I'm called Yokaze. I want nothing from you," she said. Her blue eyes slid away from the nasty gash near the second violet eye. It was healing nicely. Only when their gazes were locked, Yokaze said, "I do want, however, many things for you."
Even though it hurt, the girl narrowed both of her eyes in suspicion. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that in a few short weeks, you will walk out of here with more than you had when you were carried in. So, until that time comes, what shall I call you?"
"Jesus Christ, anything but 'Violet.' I can't stand that name."
"Well, I don't have much of an imagination." It was a warning. The young girl heard it plainly. She was about to be christened Gertrude or Drucilla or some other horrifying name.
"A... friend used to call me 'Bisho.'"
Yokaze nodded. "Very well then, Bisho. You have a couple of bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, and a two inch cut near your left eye. Other points of interest are bruises, scrapes, and welts."
"Sounds bad."
"Looks bad."
"Oh yeah?"
"Very scary."
Bisho smiled. There was something about this woman's flat-line monotone that made her grin. She doubted that this woman had ever been scared by anything. Which reminded her...
"Um, I don't remember much of what happened last night."
"Yes, well, you were unconscious for most of it. I'd be impressed as hell if you remembered all of it." Still, the monotone.
"You're making fun of me."
"Ask what you really want to know."
Bisho sighed. She didn't know this woman, but she had to know what had happened to that bastard who'd tried to force himself on her in the alley behind the rave. "Is he still alive?"
"No."
The finality in the word sent shivers along Bisho's skin. But she leaned back into the pillows and smiled. "I'm glad."
Yokaze washed, dried, and re-bandaged the cut on Bisho's face in silence. When she was finished, she leaned back and informed her, "I have house guests. They don't know about you. Let's keep it that way. Can I bring you anything to do?"
Bisho stared at Yokaze. She didn't know this woman, but she saw... something in her eyes that she had seen in Cera's. Cera... Bisho tried to remember her healthy, whole, and alive. She tried to remember the young woman who had sheltered her from the streets until the whoring had taken its toll and Cera had succumbed to one of the hundreds of occupational hazards. God, she missed her.
She didn't know what she was going to do when her welcome was worn out here. Didn't have anyplace to go. Anyone who cared about her. She was tired just thinking about it.
"I just want to sleep," she mumbled.
Yokaze nodded and collected the breakfast tray. "Then I'll be back later." The door opened and closed.
Bisho knew that she should try to run away. That she couldn't trust this unexpected sympathy from a stranger. But she hurt everywhere. And she was so tired. And lost. Cera had always held her at times like these, but she was gone now.
The young girl of no more than thirteen years squeezed her eyes shut against the tears and prayed for sleep.
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Heero lay in the dark, still, silent, but completely awake. As much as his body craved sleep—demanded it—he could not let his mind rest. Still, he couldn't believe that Yokaze—his double—was real, that he'd finally seen her with his own eyes.
The words he had spoken to Relena echoed relentlessly back at him.
"... if this other girl really is your sister—"
"She isn't."
"How do you know?"
"It's too much of a coincidence."
Too much of a coincidence. They were exactly the same words that Yokaze had used.
Heero should have been relieved. She did not believe that they were siblings. He was safe. His world was safe. She was safe. As long as Heero was allowed to go on his way alone, all would be well.
So, why had his chest tightened curiously at her words? He was insane if he actually felt disappointment at her diagnosis. A sister would only be trouble, dangerous trouble. His world would no longer be his own. Others would no longer be safe. And he would not be able to deny his connection to the rest of humanity. He would not be able to be Heero Yuy, the perfect soldier, any longer.
His mind balked at the thought. Not be a soldier? That was all he was. All he'd ever known. All he could be. The training had been too complete. He couldn't participate in mundane human life, not like the others. He thought of Trowa, who had Kathy, a job, a home. He thought of Quatre, who had a family, a fortune, obligations. He had never envied them. And yet...
Disgusted with himself, Yuy threw back the covers and left sleep behind. He knew he wouldn't rest until he'd completely analyzed the situation. But, in order to do that, he needed a cup of coffee. He didn't bother with socks or a shirt, simply padded into the kitchen he shared with the other pilots. With mechanical motions, he set the coffee maker to perk and opened the kitchen curtain, allowing the late morning light to trickle into the room.
He gripped the edge of the metal sink and stared at the busy street below. He had never wanted a family. He had always viewed the remote possibility as he would have viewed a field of enemy mobile suits between him and his target.
So why, now that he'd seen how impossible, how unlikely, it really was, had he expected her to claim him as family?
Heero let out a long, frustrated breath and hung his head, his shoulders tense.
He told himself that he was being an idiot.
He told himself that everyone was better off this way.
He told himself that he wouldn't know what to do with a sister if he had one.
But he didn't believe a word of it.
The truth was Heero Yuy was tired. And alone. And starving for the basic, mundane things in life, for the simple, sincere touch of another human being. His enemy.
God. What kind of soldier was he?
Was he breaking?
He couldn't. It wasn't possible. Heero Yuy was and would always be the perfect soldier.
"Heero?"
Startled by the undetected interruption, Heero turned suddenly, his gaze landing on the sleep-rumpled form of Quatre. His blonde hair flew in every direction; his blue eyes were half-closed with exhaustion; his pajama bottoms skewed slightly to one side.
"Go back to sleep," Heero told him quietly.
Quatre shook his head. "Can't. I keep thinking about Yokaze." The young man slid into a chair and yawned.
Heero hated the way every single one of his muscles tensed when he heard Quatre's admission. Once again, he saw her in black leather and laces, the erotic antithesis of his own harsh, utilitarian appearance. His voice was gruff when he demanded, "How so?"
The young man in the blue pajama bottoms was too tired to hear the aggression in Heero's voice. He yawned again. "I was sure she was your sister. I can't believe that she didn't know. I'd expected her to know that before anything else."
Heero relaxed a bit and reached for the coffee pot. He filled two cups and handed one to Quatre, who opened his mouth to thank him, but yawned instead. Heero waved the intended thanks away and took a seat across from Quatre.
They sipped the dark, strong coffee in silence. Heero had begun to replay the breakfast conversation in his mind when the other young man spoke again.
"The tattoo... Back at the circus. That wasn't for Taki. It was for Wufei, wasn't it?"
Heero nodded. He'd made the same deduction. It seemed that Trowa wasn't the only one receiving a visit from his past.
"I wonder what it means."
Heero was sure they'd find out sooner or later.
For a few heartbeats, they slipped back into their own private thoughts. And then: "So, are you just going to leave everything as it is?"
Heero narrowed his eyes and studied his coffee. The sibling situation. He didn't answer right away because that was the very question that had kept him awake. He was still debating it.
Quatre placed his mug on the table and offered, "I think one of my sisters works for a fertility clinic on this colony. She could do a DNA analysis of you and Yokaze."
Heero frowned, his gaze not leaving the murky liquid in white ceramic. He was struck by the ease with which the Winner heir took his many sisters for granted. Instantly, Heero knew that if Yokaze was his sister, he would have to know everything about her, would have to protect her, would have to know her whereabouts at all times. He said, "How long would it take?"
Quatre considered that. "I'm really not sure. Maybe a week. It depends on how busy she is. I could call her up and ask her."
Heero was silent for a long minute. He knew that he wouldn't be settled until he knew, but how would he convince Yokaze to go along with it? She didn't seem to be in any hurry to resolve anything.
As the silence rolled on, unbroken, Quatre washed his empty cup at the sink. "Well, let me know if you decide to do it," the tired but optimistic youth told him. "Thanks for the coffee."
"Aa."
While Quatre returned to his room, Heero watched the shadows slowly compact as the colony's lights followed the sun's natural arc. Quatre's offer tempted him. However, as the possibility of ending his solitary existence became even more real, he felt a twinge of panic, as if every part of him was being pushed into the light, leaving him none of his familiar shadows to hide in.
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Katherine deserved to know the truth.
Trowa took a deep, fortifying breath as he knocked on her trailer door. It was late in the afternoon. Tonight they had a performance and everyone was indulging in a nap before the final preparations had to be made. He waited patiently as he listened to her voice telling him she'd be right there. Silently, he wondered how he was going to tell her. He could just give her the disk but no, that wouldn't do. His eyelids fluttered down as he searched within himself for the right thing to say, to do.
And then it came to him.
He removed the teddy bear from his partially-filled duffle bag.
Kathy opened the door and, upon seeing him, smiled. Her blue eyes moved over his face and detected a tension in him. "Trowa? What is it?"
And then her gaze fell to the toy in his hands.
Recognizing it instantly, she gasped and reached for the doorframe. "Where did you get that?" she rasped, awed.
Trowa moved one step closer to her and held out the disk. "This can explain better than I."
She hesitated before she took it.
Trowa saw her hand shake. She had good reason to be hesitant. With this information, their lives would be changed forever. Her blue eyes met his and then she held the door open for him. She wasn't sure she could read it alone.
Trowa stepped inside. He understood her fear. He understood because she was his sister.
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Duo walked in on a conversation he knew he was not meant to witness. But he hesitated on the threshold of Yokaze's kitchen, intrigued.
Yokaze and Heero were nose to nose. Their cobalt eyes glared with equal measures of arctic chill. Their jeans were faded, almost to white. Their boots smudged with dirt. One of them (Duo was embarrassed to realize he couldn't tell which one) was wearing a black T-shirt and a jean jacket. The other a sweat shirt. They were covered from neck to heel. That gave him absolutely nothing to go on.
"Have you considered the possibility that having a sibling will dramatically decrease your mobility and expendability as a soldier?" The voice was low-pitched, almost a rumble. It had come from the sweatshirt-ed Heero. Duo was sure that one was the real Heero Yuy. That voice was unmistakable.
A growl escaped the other Heero's clenched teeth. "Doesn't the incompleteness of the data disturb you at all?"
Duo frowned. They both sounded like Heero. He could see it coming; this was going to be one of those embarrassing moments.
"I don't believe I was provided with that part of the training."
"Training has nothing to do with it."
There was a pause. The Heero with the sweatshirt blinked; the cobalt gaze softened a degree. Bluntly, he/she said, "You actually want to know."
"Yes."
There was a pause before two fisted hands got shoved into jean pockets. "Fine," came the growl of assent.
"I'll inform Quatre."
They stepped away from each other. One strode to the coffee pot to get a refill and the other turned to gaze at the view outside. Duo sighed. He still didn't have a clue.
He cleared his throat and felt a shiver dance up his spine when two pairs of deadly, cobalt eyes focused on him. There ought to be a law against two people having eyes like that. One set is bad enough. "Uh, excuse me but which one of you has the Y chromosome?"
The Heeros looked at each other. It was a moment before the one at the window (in the sweatshirt) said, "He can't tell the difference."
A spark of amusement entered the cobalt eyes of the second as he/she sipped from the coffee mug. "Obviously."
The figure at the window reached down and grasped a duffle bag. "I haven't got time to hang around; there are some things I need to take care of." Duo watched helplessly, as the youth disappeared into the late evening, closing the door hard on the way out.
He was alone. With either Heero or Yokaze. He bit his lip and stared at the person who was calmly sipping away, as if there was nothing better to do. Duo ventured, "Heero?"
Humor sparkled briefly in the blue eyes. The only audible reply was the sound of coffee being sipped.
Duo was seriously considering tackling this person and ripping that black T-shirt off so that he could be sure to whom he was speaking. Instead, he announced, "This is not funny. You have no idea how paranoid I am after that spa thing."
Humor burned a bit stronger this time.
*SSSSIIIIIPPPP*
"Argh! If you really are Heero, you are in big trouble! How dare you discover your sense of humor at this precise moment! And, if you're Yokaze, well," Duo crossed his arms and tried to look indignant, "this is exactly the sort of thing I would expect from you. You are a twisted individual and I'm forever grateful that no one ever gave you a gundam."
Before Duo could continue on with his rant, a motion stopped him. The jean-clad shoulders were shaking. The cobalt eyes were glistening with tears. That was all the warning Duo had before his companion threw back his/her head and laughed.
Owlish, violet eyes blinked at the sight. "Okay. Now I know you're not Heero. He never laughs. He doesn't know the first thing about appreciating my jokes or else he would have laughed a long time ago. So, since you're Yokaze, I think you're one really sick puppy to just stand there and laugh at my inability to tell the two of you apart."
Tears were gathering in Heero/Yokaze's eyes. He/she had to set the coffee mug down in order to rub away the dampness. "Duo..." the youth tried to manage.
"Is this going to be an apology?"
"Duo, you idiot." He/she was still struggling for control, so the voice that said Duo's name was uncensored, allowing a note of affection to color the words.
Duo heard it and felt his pulse leap at the odd combination of Heero's voice and tenderness. But when he looked into the cobalt eyes again, they were somber, as if they had never laughed, but he thought he saw a spark of amusement still there, banked.
From somewhere deep within Duo, a small voice prayed that he'd truly made Heero laugh. Heero and not Yokaze.
Duo considered his own hands and suggested, "I could always shove you down on the floor and rip your shirt off."
He cobalt eyes narrowed just as Duo realized that had not sounded the way he'd wanted it to. "Uhh..."
"Maxwell?"
A drumroll of dread fell over him. "Er... Yeah?"
"Omae o korosu."
Pause. "Aw. Shit." Too late, Duo had figured it out.
He'd just threatened to rip Heero's—the real Heero's—clothes off.
This day was not going well.
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~End of Chapter 10~