Heero sat on the windowsill with his back to the outside world, eyes closed, listening to the soft rhythms of the rain hitting the windowpane and his hiccuping breaths. He had been crying. The streaks of tears down his cheeks proved this to anyone who could see his down turned face in the dwindling twilight. But the safe house was empty. He had been sent on the mission as a solo test of combat and stealth skills, and had completed it successfully. He had successfully burned an entire village to the ground. He had successfully tortured a man and shot him for a simple entry code. He had successfully taken eleven Generals as hostages and killed all of them, one by one, as a "lesson" to Oz. Tomorrow he would join the other pilots in a safe house for a few days, before they went on a routine, mediocre, search-and-destroy mission. Maybe, by then, he will have managed to muffle the cries of his victims from this mission that were echoing endlessly in his head. Before, of course, repeating the process with the next mission. And the next, and the next, and the next, in an endless circle of guilt and remorse… But the screams never really disappeared. They were just squashed into a tiny space reserved at the back of his mind for every man he kills, a place where he could grieve and torture himself for what he has done. And yet, so far, the voices haven't come back to haunt him. So far.

~*~

'Systems online. Ready to launch. Three, two, one.'

Wing shook into life and ascended into the early morning reddish-pink sky. Heero flew his Gundam skilfully, barely sending a whisper through the branches of the canopy beneath him. He checked his gauges, scanned the surrounding area for anything unusual, and did everything he had been taught to do when flying a Gundam. Heero liked routine. It helped him keep his mind free from anything he would rather forget. And after the past few days, routine is what he has been praying for.

'Pilot 01, do you copy?'

Heero switched on his monitor without taking his eyes off the horizon and nodded to the individual who had contacted him.

'Copy.' He said.

'Has the mission been completed successfully?'

'Yes.'

'Cool. I've made hotdogs.'

Heero smirked in his mind at the abrupt total change of subject by his co-pilot. But then again, this is Duo.

'And what has that got to do with the mission?' he said with a hint of sarcasm.

'Well, nothing. Just thought you'll be pretty hungry when you get to the safe house.'

Duo's child-like logic again caused a loud smirk to echo in Heero's mind.

'Thankyou.' Every child loves praise.

'Your welcome,' Duo said brightly. 'See ya in a while. 02 out.'

Heero switched off his monitor, still looking at the horizon. This was his favourite part of the day; it's rebirth, innocent, unflawed. It made him think, if the world can keep on turning, the sun keep on rising, with all the murder and hatred that's in the world, then maybe, just maybe, there's hope for me too. The sun was gradually rising above the leafy canopy, turning the sky from a milky red to orange, before fading into a pastel blue above him. He felt his breath slow down as he took in the immense beauty of the new day. He blinked hard and forced himself back into routine.

~*~

Wing drew to a halt above the abandoned barn where it was to be hidden. Slowly it descended, sending stray pieces of hay twirling wildly in all directions with the wind generated from the booster rockets. Finally its feet hit the ground, and the hatch opened. Heero took hold of the cable and plunged downwards, testing his reflexes as he hit the brake a few feet from the ground. It usually takes a lot to get the adrenaline pumping through Heero's veins, but the rush of air against his skin when he fell always did it for him.

'Cable return, hatch close.' Heero said into his remote control for Wing. 'Start program #2301.'

Wing turned 90 degrees and walked into the barn. It disguised itself as Heero had programmed it to, and switched off. Heero breathed out heavily with quiet satisfaction and made his way towards the farmhouse, where the other pilots had been for the past few days.

'Hey, Heero, how was Burma?' Duo slapped him on the back as soon as Heero's feet entered the farmhouse.

'… Hot.' Heero grunted.

'So how come you don't have a tan, dude?'

Because I was busy killing people, you bastard.

'… I forgot my sun lotion.' He said out loud and shrugged out of Duo's grip. 'I'm going upstairs for a minute.'

'Okay. But remember, I've made hotdogs.' Duo said, slightly over animatedly.

'Yeah. Whatever.'

Heero closed the door to his empty bedroom, and slid the lock through. He sat down on his bed and stared unblinking out of the dirty window opposite him. His hands shuffled and drew around his waist. Downstairs, doors banged, feet stomped, and the other pilots laughed with one another. Upstairs, alone, Heero watched as the innocence of the new day disappeared, draining his hope with it. And as the last flecks of orange melted into blue, a single tear fell silently from his unblinking eye, hesitated uncertainly on his chin, and fell into his lap.

~*~