Namae wo Tsukete

© 2002 Lady Pax

OMIGOSH!!! I ACTUALLY GOT RID OF MY SLUMP!!! *busts a move* Thank you Trent Schneider for helping me! I owe you one! *hugs* Thank you reviewers, I really do appreciate that you care about me so much – even if you don't know me personally! *hugs all reviewers* I hope I haven't bored you to tears yet!

Oh yes, and because my no-good, rotten muses have 'disowned' me, I'm now searching for muses. Anyone care to be mine? Terms and Conditions can be found on the next chapter of this fic called 'Terms and Conditions'. I hope one of you will become my muse! I hope you want to become one too! ^-^

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chapter thirteen

Trowa stood in the middle of a green plain, his hair done in the most unusual style flapping buoyantly across his face. His emerald eyes scanned the area cautiously, as if afraid of what he might find.

He took a step, and before he could even give a gasp of surprise, his legs gave way from under him, and he fell. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came through his parched, dry throat. He just kept falling, the wind making his clothes flap wildly around his limp body.

Suddenly, when he felt he would never stop falling, his back hit something hard wit a nauseating noise, and he groaned in pain.

"Wow! That was some fall!" came a small voice that was in awe.

Trowa turned his head painfully to see a boy. A boy years younger than himself, though his skin and clothes seemed to glow in the pitch-blackness around them. Then he realized that it was the boy from the cell. But how… How did he get here?

How did *Trowa* get here?

"It's…you…" Trowa murmured in pain. The boy nodded.

"Yeah, I'm him. And guess what Trowa?" The boy seemed very perked now.

"What?" Trowa asked, taking in deep breaths to settle the vertigo threatening to drown him. He winced as a wave of pain washed over his body, starting from his back and leading to his head and feet.

"I'm not in Heaven – but I'm happy!" the boy shouted gleefully.

Trowa blinked. He remembered their conversation in the cell a few moments ago…or was it a few moments ago? Was it days? Weeks? How long ago had he been in the cell?

"Are you happy Trowa?" the boy asked. But before Trowa could answer, a voice echoed throughout the void the boy and the Heavyarms pilot were in, and it blotted out the young man's thoughts.

"Trowa!" The voice was vaguely familiar. Vaguely…

"Goddess, hear your child… Help him live…"

"Duo's troubled without you…"

"Fight it, Barton…"  

"We all miss you here, Trowa… Please come back…"

All the voices sounded recognizable. All of them, except one. But even that had a tinge of familiarity. But…he couldn't put his finger on them. He couldn't match the voices with a face…

Trowa's eyes closed as the vertigo began claiming him, and he let the faintness overcome his body and his functions. The voices were drowned out by nauseating silence, and Trowa groaned in helplessness and pain.

So he fell asleep – the only way to resist that pain he was enduring. It was the only way he could forget the aching void in his chest… The only way he could forget…forget the boy who had showed him love…who had showed him how much he loved him…

Suddenly, Trowa's eyes snapped open, and his heart began beating against the walls of his chest. "Duo…" he breathed, his chest heaving in and out. "Duo!" His cry was desperate, and enough to tear someone's heart in two.

"Open your eyes, Trowa…" said a soft, meek voice. The despaired, European boy turned his head to look at the young boy watching him.

"What?"

"Open your eyes," the boys said again. He smiled, and cocked his head. "Open your heart again, and you'll be able to live again." He flashed Trowa a peace sign with his fingers. "I'll see you later Trowa. Right now, I've got some others to help. A boy named Quatre…and a girl named Catherine."

"But… I don't get it…" Trowa murmured.

"You will," said the boy. "Don't worry…" He smiled and began walking away into the darkness. Trowa watched him in panic.

When the boy was more than a few meters away from the emerald-eyed pilot, he turned to look over his shoulder and said nonchalantly, "Oh yeah, Trowa? I found my name. It's Triton. Triton Bloom."

Trowa blinked. "It has a ring to it…a nice ring…"

The boy laughed. "Hmm, thanks, Trowa. So does yours." He waved, then began walking again, and Trowa gasped when he saw a flash of long, brown bangs cover Triton's eyes. But it must have been a trick of Trowa's sight… Because when Trowa realized it later, if Triton had that hairstyle, he would look just like him…

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Well, that was short. Very short. I hope you liked it, though… Very confusing, but once you realize what this chapter actually was…well…you'll understand why. Please review.

Peace – I'm out