Be My Friend?
Chapter 4: The Most Valuable Thing in this World
Kattie (e-mail me at Kattie41@aol.com ^.~)
Disclaimer: I own Wesley! BWAHHAHAH! writes Kattie-1, Lawyers- 1 zillion on the points board You cannot sue me for owning him! BWAHHAHAHAH!
Lawyers: ^^* but you do not own any Gundam characters
Kattie: Curses! writes points, Lawyers- zillion and one I do not own Gundam Wing!
Note: A chapter or two ago someone asked if there would be a sequel. I'm sorry, but this is the last of this series. bows Quatre only has three image songs and I have written (or am in the process of writing) three fanfictions to match. Bravest Eyes= Brave Eyes, Star's Gaze= Gaze of the Stars or Star's Gaze, Be My Friend?= I'm Your Friend. If they happen to come out with another song for him, which would be wonderful but is very very unlikely, I will write you another fanfiction.
Note: Once again, I apologize for slow updating. But please, SEE NOTE THREE!!!!
NOTE 3: IS MAKING THE PLOT BETTER WORTH UPPING MY RATING TO AN R? YOU MUST TELL ME OR I'LL HAVE TO DECIDE FOR MYSELF WHICH COULD RUIN IT FOR YOU! PLEASE E-MAIL ME AT KATTIE41@AOL.COM OR REVIEW!
Dedication: Dedicated once again to Hide. Sheesh, I dedicate to him a lot. He sure deserves it though. X-Japan guitarist ^_^ listen to them if you want to hear great music. (And they're all so handsome too blush)
Quatre stared at the pile of mail that had accumulated on his desk without really seeing it. He couldn't see its vast quantity, growing greater every half-hour, when the secretary, Wesley, would step in and add around 7 to the stack. When he set them down, Wesley would gently say, "Sir?" and awaken the young president.
"Yes?" Quatre would reply, jumping in surprise.
"I have more letters, sir." Wesley would answer, as if that were the entire reason he had spoken to him.
Then Quatre would nod and mutter a thanks, before opening one letter and returning to his illusory world.
For what seemed like the millionth time, Wesley stepped into the room, carrying his small stack of envelopes. He'd sifted through all of the "junk mail" and death threats that he could but was disappointed at knowing Quatre would have to open a few. There was only so much filtering he could do without opening a letter.
Sighing inwardly, Wesley continued his ritual, "Sir?"
Jolting into the "real" world, Quatre nearly fell over in his chair. Hitting the desk with a hand in regaining his balance, he mentally cursed as he knocked over his stack of letters. They fluttered to the ground like oversized confetti.
"I'm sorry," Wesley said quickly, dropping to the ground and picking up envelopes, "I'm sorry for disturbing you."
Shaking his head, Quatre joined Wesley on the ground. "I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind. It's all right, I'll get them."
Sighing, Wesley took the letters that Quatre had collected and placed them with his own. "Sir, with all due respect, I don't think you should be working right now."
Quatre raised his eyes from the ground to meet Wesley's, taken aback by his words. "What do you-"
"It's too soon," Wesley interrupted, "The funeral was only this morning.. You should at least take a week off. I'm sure someone can cover for you."
With a slight smile, Quatre shook his head, "That's kind of you, Wesley, but I'll be fine."
"Sir.." Wesley took a deep breath and paused, thinking over his next words carefully, "I don't think anyone could be "fine" after their father's funeral. Not after what happened to Mr. Win." Unable to finish the name, Wesley fell silent again. Without saying another word, he began brushing away each tear as it began to fall, trying unsuccessfully to cover up the fact that he was crying.
Feeling the emotion at once, Quatre watched his secretary in disbelief. He couldn't understand it. Wesley had signed resignation at least 25 times to leave the company prior to Mr. Winner's death and had stopped sending them in immediately afterwards. He'd worked as his secretary for a mere 2 years. How could someone who knew Mr. Winner so little and only through work mourn for him? Was his father really that kind to those who weren't family?
"I'm sorry, sir," Wesley said in a voice that wouldn't have been able to be heard had there been a cricket chirping, "Mr. Winner.. He didn't deserve it. He deserved far better than what those bastards did to him. Sure, he was annoying. He wouldn't LET me quit. But.. He was a good man, sir. Mr. Winner was a good man. Damn it.."
Wesley slammed his fist into the floor, causing a few more papers to flutter off of the now nearly empty desk. "He even wrote me a letter in his will. He remembered me even! I was just he secretary!" Taking a deep and sputtered breath, in an attempt to calm his tears, he continued, "He remembered even me. How could they do this to him?"
Wesley's words from then on were a mixed jumble of phrases and incomprehensible mutters. He managed to keep from sobbing, but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. He just kept wiping them away, as if the next wouldn't be soon to follow.
Finally reacting, Quatre took Wesley into his arms. "It's all right," he said quietly, his own words stuttered from the strength it took to keep from crying himself, "He died honorably. I'm sure.. I'm sure he was pleased to die that way."
It took a while, but Quatre managed to comfort Wesley eventually by explaining to him how Mr. Winner would be happy with how things turned out and how he had died in protecting what he believed in. Normally it wouldn't have taken Quatre so long to comfort a friend, but this time he had more than one person to console at the same time.
Wesley, of course, but also himself.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Downstairs at the Winner Manor
The room was unusually quiet for holding four Gundam pilots within it. Even more unusual considering Duo wasn't even considering pulling any pranks or saying anything for a long while.
There was an awkward air on the room, leaving it warmer than usual with the mixed emotions adding heat. Hiiro sat in a chair, pounding away on his new, but not half as nice as his last, laptop (1). Every few minutes he would stop, look up to see if Duo's expression had changed, which it never seemed to do, and continue typing.
It was unusually quiet.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Somewhere.. Not so very far away
A lit cigar dropped to the ground and rolled a short ways before spinning into a half circle and stopping. The ashes from its burnt remains littered the space it had touched, seeming like a sad memory of the once beautiful and whole shape it had previously been. Along with it were 3 other cigars, each one burnt only halfway down before being discarded. Each one smelled of smoke, having been used only, at most, a half-hour before.
Their owner grinned and lit up one of their brothers, taking a satisfied puff and exhaling a ring. "You interest more than me, my dear, but you will be mine alone. In the end, all others will quiver under my success. Have you not noticed what has begun? Soon, love. Soon you will begin to see. You aren't half as blind as the others."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Somewhere else..also very close
"Sent?"
"He must've received it by now.."
"Then why haven't we seen any reaction?"
"Uh.."
"Are you sure you put a stamp on it?"
"..Yes?"
"Why the questioning tone?"
"..Uh.."
"..How about we play a little game?"
"Aren't we already playing one?"
"Well, yes, but why not play another while we wait for the results or possible lack thereof?"
"O..kay.."
"If he doesn't react to our letter in 10 hours, we'll have to send another letter. If that happens, I'll be very disappointed. So how about every hour we wait, I cut off a finger? That way, we'll know for sure if he cared."
"..Hey! That's not fair!"
"This is my game. It might be crooked but it's mine. And we play my games because yours aren't half so fun."
"..Funner for me. Why don't we cut off your fingers?"
"Funner isn't a word. I'm smarter, so I get to decide. If you don't like that, there's a perfectly good knife in the kitchen. Feel free to slice a wrist or two."
".."
"Ten hours. No more, no less."
"Does this mean we'll be cutting off my fingers?"
"..That was a joke."
"..Oh."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Nitki smiled happily as she cleaned her husband's desk. She'd been married to Bouken for 8 happy years; the happiest years of her life! He was always wonderful to her. He'd treated her well and was very kind at all times. He'd comforted her when Iria and her father passed on so that she was able to heal far more quickly than her other sisters.
Apart from a horrible headache and dizziness practically all the time, she was fine.
Her father hadn't wanted her to marry Bouken at first. Mr. Winner had stated on more than one occasion that he didn't like Bouken. Something about him rubbed her father the wrong way (2). At first, he'd said she couldn't marry Bouken. When Bouken proposed, Mr. Winner answered for her.
However, their love was far too strong. Despite Mr. Winner's threats to cut her and her fiancé off from family, meaning she would get no money, would lose her job, and would never be able to see her sisters or Quatre again, they stayed together. Bouken apologized to Nitki on numerous occasions during that time. He was so sorry for doing this to her, making her lose so much. He'd even told her he'd understand if she wanted him to leave.
But Nitki couldn't help it, she loved him. That love was worth losing everything. Besides, she'd still managed to maintain contact with a few of her sisters and Quatre wrote letters to her every chance he got. Eventually, Mr. Winner caved in and gave his blessing under the circumstance that her husband would never be in the same room as Quatre.
"That man's already polluted your mind," He had said, glaring deep into her eyes, "I won't have him getting to Quatre."
Sighing at the memory and longing to see her father again, Nitki swallowed down another pill. They were for her headaches but they hadn't seemed to help much yet. She was hoping maybe this time she would be lucky.
As she continued to clean, she noticed something odd on Bouken's desk. Picking it up, she examined the object carefully, trying to understand why it was placed here. 'Hm.' She thought, 'That's odd.'
Feeling the medicine kick in for once, the headache began to fade slightly as well as the thought. Smiling, she set it back down, and left the room.
End of Chapter
(1) Remember, he sold the last one? ^.~
(2) Hn.... might be American slang . Rubbing someone the wrong way means you bug them but you don't really know why.... well maybe you could know why.... I'm not a slang expert.
The suspense! The cliffhanger! And I didn't even conclude the last one! BWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHHA! coughs This fanfiction might be a little bit longer than the other two. I'm not sure yet, but it's looking like it.
READ NOTE 3!!!!!!!!!! E-MAILS TO KATTIE41@AOL.COM!
Tracks- All J-rock this time ^_^
Summer Days- Do As Infinity
Endless Rain- X-Japan
Forever Love- X-Japan
Kurenai- X-Japan (seeing a bit of a pattern?)
Miscast- X-Japan
Crucify My Love- X-Japan
Tears- X-Japan
Illness Illusion- Gackt
Funeral People-
Bouken- Quatre's brother-in-law who got the pilots out of trouble but smiled far too much than is natural at the funeral. Has something unnatural on his desk. Hm.. Wouldn't it be nice to know what it is?
Jiei- The bodyguard who almost threw the pilots out.
Nitki- Quatre's sister and Bouken's wife. Seems to have figured something out about Bouken, but can't remember.
Work Associate (will be associates soon)-
Wesley- A young, unsure secretary at Winner Corporation. He once worked under Mr. Winner and attempted to quit 25 times in two years. Seems to have actually liked the man, but can we be sure? (oho mysterious ne?) Is currently in Quatre's arms, being comforted. Lucky devil!
Mysterious People-
Cigar Person- Although the gender is uncertain, this figure hated Quatre's father and hopes to kill someone else close to him (or Quatre himself). Seems to be either in love or lusting after Quatre. Also appears to be a chain smoker, smoking cigars because.. ^^* Kattie thinks all super evil baddies should smoke cigars ^^*.
Mysterious Voice One- The leader of the voices gang who claims that Quatre is "Perfect" for their plan. Has a sadistic sense of humor and is violent in language.
Mysterious Voice Two- The follower in the voices gang who is unsure about what they are doing and dislikes the idea of using Quatre for their plan. A very uncertain person who spends the majority of his/her time being pushed around by MV1.
Chapter 4: The Most Valuable Thing in this World
Kattie (e-mail me at Kattie41@aol.com ^.~)
Disclaimer: I own Wesley! BWAHHAHAH! writes Kattie-1, Lawyers- 1 zillion on the points board You cannot sue me for owning him! BWAHHAHAHAH!
Lawyers: ^^* but you do not own any Gundam characters
Kattie: Curses! writes points, Lawyers- zillion and one I do not own Gundam Wing!
Note: A chapter or two ago someone asked if there would be a sequel. I'm sorry, but this is the last of this series. bows Quatre only has three image songs and I have written (or am in the process of writing) three fanfictions to match. Bravest Eyes= Brave Eyes, Star's Gaze= Gaze of the Stars or Star's Gaze, Be My Friend?= I'm Your Friend. If they happen to come out with another song for him, which would be wonderful but is very very unlikely, I will write you another fanfiction.
Note: Once again, I apologize for slow updating. But please, SEE NOTE THREE!!!!
NOTE 3: IS MAKING THE PLOT BETTER WORTH UPPING MY RATING TO AN R? YOU MUST TELL ME OR I'LL HAVE TO DECIDE FOR MYSELF WHICH COULD RUIN IT FOR YOU! PLEASE E-MAIL ME AT KATTIE41@AOL.COM OR REVIEW!
Dedication: Dedicated once again to Hide. Sheesh, I dedicate to him a lot. He sure deserves it though. X-Japan guitarist ^_^ listen to them if you want to hear great music. (And they're all so handsome too blush)
Quatre stared at the pile of mail that had accumulated on his desk without really seeing it. He couldn't see its vast quantity, growing greater every half-hour, when the secretary, Wesley, would step in and add around 7 to the stack. When he set them down, Wesley would gently say, "Sir?" and awaken the young president.
"Yes?" Quatre would reply, jumping in surprise.
"I have more letters, sir." Wesley would answer, as if that were the entire reason he had spoken to him.
Then Quatre would nod and mutter a thanks, before opening one letter and returning to his illusory world.
For what seemed like the millionth time, Wesley stepped into the room, carrying his small stack of envelopes. He'd sifted through all of the "junk mail" and death threats that he could but was disappointed at knowing Quatre would have to open a few. There was only so much filtering he could do without opening a letter.
Sighing inwardly, Wesley continued his ritual, "Sir?"
Jolting into the "real" world, Quatre nearly fell over in his chair. Hitting the desk with a hand in regaining his balance, he mentally cursed as he knocked over his stack of letters. They fluttered to the ground like oversized confetti.
"I'm sorry," Wesley said quickly, dropping to the ground and picking up envelopes, "I'm sorry for disturbing you."
Shaking his head, Quatre joined Wesley on the ground. "I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind. It's all right, I'll get them."
Sighing, Wesley took the letters that Quatre had collected and placed them with his own. "Sir, with all due respect, I don't think you should be working right now."
Quatre raised his eyes from the ground to meet Wesley's, taken aback by his words. "What do you-"
"It's too soon," Wesley interrupted, "The funeral was only this morning.. You should at least take a week off. I'm sure someone can cover for you."
With a slight smile, Quatre shook his head, "That's kind of you, Wesley, but I'll be fine."
"Sir.." Wesley took a deep breath and paused, thinking over his next words carefully, "I don't think anyone could be "fine" after their father's funeral. Not after what happened to Mr. Win." Unable to finish the name, Wesley fell silent again. Without saying another word, he began brushing away each tear as it began to fall, trying unsuccessfully to cover up the fact that he was crying.
Feeling the emotion at once, Quatre watched his secretary in disbelief. He couldn't understand it. Wesley had signed resignation at least 25 times to leave the company prior to Mr. Winner's death and had stopped sending them in immediately afterwards. He'd worked as his secretary for a mere 2 years. How could someone who knew Mr. Winner so little and only through work mourn for him? Was his father really that kind to those who weren't family?
"I'm sorry, sir," Wesley said in a voice that wouldn't have been able to be heard had there been a cricket chirping, "Mr. Winner.. He didn't deserve it. He deserved far better than what those bastards did to him. Sure, he was annoying. He wouldn't LET me quit. But.. He was a good man, sir. Mr. Winner was a good man. Damn it.."
Wesley slammed his fist into the floor, causing a few more papers to flutter off of the now nearly empty desk. "He even wrote me a letter in his will. He remembered me even! I was just he secretary!" Taking a deep and sputtered breath, in an attempt to calm his tears, he continued, "He remembered even me. How could they do this to him?"
Wesley's words from then on were a mixed jumble of phrases and incomprehensible mutters. He managed to keep from sobbing, but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. He just kept wiping them away, as if the next wouldn't be soon to follow.
Finally reacting, Quatre took Wesley into his arms. "It's all right," he said quietly, his own words stuttered from the strength it took to keep from crying himself, "He died honorably. I'm sure.. I'm sure he was pleased to die that way."
It took a while, but Quatre managed to comfort Wesley eventually by explaining to him how Mr. Winner would be happy with how things turned out and how he had died in protecting what he believed in. Normally it wouldn't have taken Quatre so long to comfort a friend, but this time he had more than one person to console at the same time.
Wesley, of course, but also himself.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Downstairs at the Winner Manor
The room was unusually quiet for holding four Gundam pilots within it. Even more unusual considering Duo wasn't even considering pulling any pranks or saying anything for a long while.
There was an awkward air on the room, leaving it warmer than usual with the mixed emotions adding heat. Hiiro sat in a chair, pounding away on his new, but not half as nice as his last, laptop (1). Every few minutes he would stop, look up to see if Duo's expression had changed, which it never seemed to do, and continue typing.
It was unusually quiet.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Somewhere.. Not so very far away
A lit cigar dropped to the ground and rolled a short ways before spinning into a half circle and stopping. The ashes from its burnt remains littered the space it had touched, seeming like a sad memory of the once beautiful and whole shape it had previously been. Along with it were 3 other cigars, each one burnt only halfway down before being discarded. Each one smelled of smoke, having been used only, at most, a half-hour before.
Their owner grinned and lit up one of their brothers, taking a satisfied puff and exhaling a ring. "You interest more than me, my dear, but you will be mine alone. In the end, all others will quiver under my success. Have you not noticed what has begun? Soon, love. Soon you will begin to see. You aren't half as blind as the others."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Somewhere else..also very close
"Sent?"
"He must've received it by now.."
"Then why haven't we seen any reaction?"
"Uh.."
"Are you sure you put a stamp on it?"
"..Yes?"
"Why the questioning tone?"
"..Uh.."
"..How about we play a little game?"
"Aren't we already playing one?"
"Well, yes, but why not play another while we wait for the results or possible lack thereof?"
"O..kay.."
"If he doesn't react to our letter in 10 hours, we'll have to send another letter. If that happens, I'll be very disappointed. So how about every hour we wait, I cut off a finger? That way, we'll know for sure if he cared."
"..Hey! That's not fair!"
"This is my game. It might be crooked but it's mine. And we play my games because yours aren't half so fun."
"..Funner for me. Why don't we cut off your fingers?"
"Funner isn't a word. I'm smarter, so I get to decide. If you don't like that, there's a perfectly good knife in the kitchen. Feel free to slice a wrist or two."
".."
"Ten hours. No more, no less."
"Does this mean we'll be cutting off my fingers?"
"..That was a joke."
"..Oh."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Nitki smiled happily as she cleaned her husband's desk. She'd been married to Bouken for 8 happy years; the happiest years of her life! He was always wonderful to her. He'd treated her well and was very kind at all times. He'd comforted her when Iria and her father passed on so that she was able to heal far more quickly than her other sisters.
Apart from a horrible headache and dizziness practically all the time, she was fine.
Her father hadn't wanted her to marry Bouken at first. Mr. Winner had stated on more than one occasion that he didn't like Bouken. Something about him rubbed her father the wrong way (2). At first, he'd said she couldn't marry Bouken. When Bouken proposed, Mr. Winner answered for her.
However, their love was far too strong. Despite Mr. Winner's threats to cut her and her fiancé off from family, meaning she would get no money, would lose her job, and would never be able to see her sisters or Quatre again, they stayed together. Bouken apologized to Nitki on numerous occasions during that time. He was so sorry for doing this to her, making her lose so much. He'd even told her he'd understand if she wanted him to leave.
But Nitki couldn't help it, she loved him. That love was worth losing everything. Besides, she'd still managed to maintain contact with a few of her sisters and Quatre wrote letters to her every chance he got. Eventually, Mr. Winner caved in and gave his blessing under the circumstance that her husband would never be in the same room as Quatre.
"That man's already polluted your mind," He had said, glaring deep into her eyes, "I won't have him getting to Quatre."
Sighing at the memory and longing to see her father again, Nitki swallowed down another pill. They were for her headaches but they hadn't seemed to help much yet. She was hoping maybe this time she would be lucky.
As she continued to clean, she noticed something odd on Bouken's desk. Picking it up, she examined the object carefully, trying to understand why it was placed here. 'Hm.' She thought, 'That's odd.'
Feeling the medicine kick in for once, the headache began to fade slightly as well as the thought. Smiling, she set it back down, and left the room.
End of Chapter
(1) Remember, he sold the last one? ^.~
(2) Hn.... might be American slang . Rubbing someone the wrong way means you bug them but you don't really know why.... well maybe you could know why.... I'm not a slang expert.
The suspense! The cliffhanger! And I didn't even conclude the last one! BWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHHA! coughs This fanfiction might be a little bit longer than the other two. I'm not sure yet, but it's looking like it.
READ NOTE 3!!!!!!!!!! E-MAILS TO KATTIE41@AOL.COM!
Tracks- All J-rock this time ^_^
Summer Days- Do As Infinity
Endless Rain- X-Japan
Forever Love- X-Japan
Kurenai- X-Japan (seeing a bit of a pattern?)
Miscast- X-Japan
Crucify My Love- X-Japan
Tears- X-Japan
Illness Illusion- Gackt
Funeral People-
Bouken- Quatre's brother-in-law who got the pilots out of trouble but smiled far too much than is natural at the funeral. Has something unnatural on his desk. Hm.. Wouldn't it be nice to know what it is?
Jiei- The bodyguard who almost threw the pilots out.
Nitki- Quatre's sister and Bouken's wife. Seems to have figured something out about Bouken, but can't remember.
Work Associate (will be associates soon)-
Wesley- A young, unsure secretary at Winner Corporation. He once worked under Mr. Winner and attempted to quit 25 times in two years. Seems to have actually liked the man, but can we be sure? (oho mysterious ne?) Is currently in Quatre's arms, being comforted. Lucky devil!
Mysterious People-
Cigar Person- Although the gender is uncertain, this figure hated Quatre's father and hopes to kill someone else close to him (or Quatre himself). Seems to be either in love or lusting after Quatre. Also appears to be a chain smoker, smoking cigars because.. ^^* Kattie thinks all super evil baddies should smoke cigars ^^*.
Mysterious Voice One- The leader of the voices gang who claims that Quatre is "Perfect" for their plan. Has a sadistic sense of humor and is violent in language.
Mysterious Voice Two- The follower in the voices gang who is unsure about what they are doing and dislikes the idea of using Quatre for their plan. A very uncertain person who spends the majority of his/her time being pushed around by MV1.