Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, wish they were but they aren't, don't you know this already? ;)

AN: Yet again…. I'm slow. ^^;; Gomen nasai! ::bows::

Watching You

Part 6

Life became monotonous. There was no other way to put it – they flew missions, they came back, no one talked much, they did it again. Oh, sure, Duo would spend his free time playing video games and bugging the other pilots; Quatre was attempting to learn how to cook and fed us nightly. But there was no common meal – everyone ate when they had time, and rarely was that at the same time as someone else. I'd taken to eating with Quatre, who often ate with Trowa, but even then there wasn't much reasonable conversation. What was there to talk about? No one wanted to talk about the war, which left little else, really.

This damned war. It was ruining everyone's lives, and it didn't take a genius to see that. Quatre seemed a little more sure of himself lately; I didn't know if talking to me had helped at all but I didn't care – it made me much happier to see *him* happy. But I could tell that the war was running people down, and the colonies abandoning them – us? – hadn't helped in the least.

Especially not Wufei. He was still withdrawn, more so than Heero even, now. Heero talked to me. Granted, it was in two- or three-word sentences, but he talked to me, at least. Wufei was still avoiding me – anyone, really – as if human contact were the most vile thing on the planet. And that was all he had left now, all any of them had left now – the planet, because they sure as hell didn't have the colonies. But Wufei would have none of it, none of any of the pilots, none of me. And it was beginning to hurt, more sharply than the dull pain I was accustomed to his avoidance causing. It was beginning to hurt a whole hell of a lot more, and I couldn't say why.

And that bothered me more than just about anything else.

* * *

"Koji?"

I blinked, looking over to see Duo looking at me, slight concern in his expression.

"Huh? Oh, here," I said, handing him the wrench I'd pulled out of the toolbox at my feet. He disappeared back into Deathscythe's cockpit as I tried to concentrate on the voltmeter I had hooked up to the control panels inside.

"You know," Duo's voice rang throughout the small cockpit and echoed out and down to me, "you could just tell me what's wrong."

I looked up, although there was nothing to see but the very tip of a brown braid, hanging out of the cockpit.

"What?"

"What's wrong," the voice from inside repeated. "You could just tell me. Hell, you could just tell Quatre. It might help, ya know."

Duo's head poked out sideways, looking intently at me. "Or, I mean, you could keep it all bottled up inside and end up going crazy and blowing us all to hell." He shrugged and grinned. "Your choice."

"I would *not* blow you all to hell," I retorted, shaking my head. "Well, not *all* of you…"

He snorted. "Just those of us that annoy you, ne?"

I shrugged.

"Like Wufei?"

I started, staring at Duo.

He grinned. "Ah-hah. So *that's* what's bothering you!"

"What?" I blinked. "Wufei?"

Duo nodded. "Hah, well I *knew* he was bothering you. Don't let him get to you. He's just... Wufei," he said, eyes flickering over to the Chinese boy working in Shenlong's bay before settling back on me. "You can't win all of us over with that charming smile, ya know," he winked. "Some of us take more time, I guess."

"Duo," I admonished, shaking my head. "It's not that. I'm not trying to 'win him over' or

anything like that. I just... I just wish he'd... well, *talk* to me. Acknowledge the fact that

I exist. Something - anything. Or..." I paused. "No, that's not even really what I want. What I *want* is for him to stop... killing himself. Doing this to himself. I mean, sure, being alone

is one thing, but... But he..."

"Whoa, whoa." I felt a hand on my arm; I looked up and realized that my gaze had gravitated once more to the form over by Shenlong, and mentally slapped myself for it. What was going *on*...

"Koji, you don't... oh come on, don't tell me you feel *bad* for the Wu-man," Duo said, a look of pity in his eyes, as if *he* felt bad that I could possibly feel bad for Wufei.

"I - of course I do, Duo! I mean... he's... he hurts *so* much..." I sighed, shrugged out of

Duo's grip. "It hurts me," I said, in a very small voice, not sure why I was admitting this to Duo in the first place. Wasn't this something better left to myself to mull over? Something better left silent and never told to anyone, let alone Duo...

"Koji... Koji, look. You're a kind person. You and Quatre both," Duo said, sincerity suddenly coating his voice. "But you can't save all of us, you know. Some of us…" he paused, his eyes flashing a shade darker, "Some of us just don't seem to want saving."

"You're telling me." I sighed.

"Bah, nevermind." The darkness left his eyes as suddenly as it had appeared, and careless blue flashed back at me. "Lissen, don't let him get to you. He's just a pissy bastard, that's all. We all know that. No use worrying about it, ya know?"

"Yeah," I replied, but already I was wondering if I really *could* stop worrying, just like that. And I didn't think I could. It was the same as when Wufei himself had told me to stop caring. To stop watching. And I *couldn't*, because here I was, months later, somehow still watching him going through his daily routine of killing a little more of his humanity a day at a time, and it still hurt. A lot.

And I just didn't know what to do about that anymore.

"Koooooojiiiii…"

"Ne?" I looked up to see Duo waving his hand in front of my face.

"Sheesh Koji, you know, you really *should* stop staring at him or people might think you have something for him. And where would *that* get you?" He sighed. "Baka," he laughed, punching me on the head softly, and picked up a wrench I suddenly realized I should've handed to him. "Why don't you get us some food - my stomach here's starting to complain more than I do."

"That's impressive," I replied, aware that Duo's magical mood-lightening abilities were indeed seeming to take affect. I got up and began climbing down the ladder, descending through the scaffolding surrounding Deathscythe in order to head for the bay exit. Of course, I had to pass Shenlong on the way out, and even though I tried to stare at my feet the whole time, I found my eyes once more inexplicably drawn to the cockpit, to see if Wufei was still working up there.

He was up there all right, but he had stopped working and was looking down at me with an expression darker than death in his eyes.

I looked down and didn't look up again until I was halfway up the stairs to the kitchen.

* * *

I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to consider the possibility. But I supposed I *had* to consider the possibility, because it had been bothering me for a good long while by now. Duo had stopped bugging me about it, but he still gave me looks that said he wanted to ask. Quatre didn't ask because he knew I wouldn't tell him anything, but even he had started giving me looks that said something similar.

And I had been telling myself that I wanted Wufei to stop being so miserable. And I had realized that I was willing to do anything in my power to make that happen. And that scared me, because I was sure that was part of what I had once had with Duo... and I felt like I was betraying him, betraying something, to even consider that I felt something at all like that for Wufei.

Then again, it didn't seem to matter much, considering the boy wouldn't even talk to me. It had been another two months, and he *still* refused to even think about speaking to me.

What was worse was that I had realized something. Sitting here in the kitchen with my hands curled around a slowly cooling mug of coffee, I was thinking about it even now.

Because I didn't *just* want him to stop being so miserable. I wanted *him*.

And I wanted him to like *me*.

God, was I really that fickle? That selfish? Here I was, obviously hurting Quatre and most likely Duo as well. And I wanted Wufei. Chang Wufei, of all people – the one that yelled at me, the one that pushed me to the edge of anger until all I could see was the red of my temper, the solitary dragon that snapped at anyone who got in the way of his holy "Justice."

The one that had saved my life.

The one that had wanted to kill me.

The one that I was watching now, sitting hunched purposefully over his dinner at the kitchen table, chopsticks flashing between his bowl and his mouth without a sound. The one that was purposefully ignoring my existence to the point that it hurt, just like the sharpness I could see in his eyes, in his motions even now. Each movement precise, practiced. Nothing wasted.

Except his life, like he was wasting it now.

And I couldn't do a thing about it. Telling him what I felt – especially when I almost didn't want to feel it myself – was the biggest mistake I could possibly make. It seemed that my only choice was to do what he said and stay the hell out of his life.

I watched the chopsticks blur between the bowl and his mouth. He hadn't looked at me for more than a second or two since he'd come in here – he'd merely prepared his meal and sat down at the table and forcibly ignored me as if I wasn't even there.

This sharpness he had wrapped himself up in was cutting him far deeper than it was cutting me, or anyone else. This permanent anger that he was making a part of himself that was slowly killing him and I wanted to shove him against a wall and tell him to stop it. And I couldn't. Who was *I* to do that?

What in the world had happened to this boy, this person, to make him so angry? To make him force himself to be this blade, this weapon of nothing but anger and vengeance so that the world could no longer cut him? What had happened to make him isolate himself – to *torture* himself – like this?

It was torture, wasn't it? I knew it too – I was guilty of it myself. Maybe I was still doing it; all I knew was that it was torture to see him like this now.

And all I could think was, Who the hell am I to…?

Who the hell was I to love him like this?

I had to do something, but I just didn't know what. And here I was again, back at the beginning, telling myself that perhaps if staying out of his life was the best choice, then I should do just that. And I tried to do that. I tried to ignore him, to ignore how much I wanted to go and talk to him, tell him that he wasn't alone if he wanted someone to listen to him, to understand. But the more he withdrew, the more I wanted to do just that, until I felt like I was going to explode.

Until one day, I guess I did.