Coming Through the Rye
By Shannon the Twisted Link Worshiper
~ Part III ~
Cat Among the Pigeons
"Heero!" the sound of Hoshi's voice rang out from the hall as she banged loud and hard against the door with her fist. "Heero, you there?"
She was greeted with nothing but silence from the inside of the dorm. She slammed her hand into the door again, rattling the door handle noisily as she did so. At long last, there was the sound of the shower being turned off and the sound of bare feet shuffling across the floor. The door was wrenched open, and soon Hoshi found herself staring a very irate Heero Yuy straight in the eye, one hand holding the door frame, the other supporting a large white towel around his damp body. He let out a little shiver, droplets of water leaping from his soaking wet mess of brown hair as he did so. "What?" he asked disdainfully, a more than a little pissed that his shower had been interrupted.
"Wanna go out for dinner with us?" she asked imploringly. She tapped her palms against the sides of her thighs, playing with the fabric of her dark blue canvas jeans.
"Why would I—" he started to say until he was cut off by the look in her eyes and the tone in her voice.
"Duo," was the simple one worded answer. It was all she needed to say to get him to do exactly as she wanted. Almost like a magic spell, Heero gave her a tight-mouthed frown and a quick nod of agreement before turned on his water-slicked heel, slamming the door behind him.
Hoshi, Sora and D.B. all sat on the front steps of the school, watching the sun as it set over the horizon, its blazes of pink and orange dancing across the lawn that stretched out before them. The sound of sleepy birds quietly singing the world to sleep amid the low noises of the quieting school around them as late night sports practices began to come to an end and students made their way inside for dinner. Footsteps falling upon the stone terrace behind them caused the three to turn around, finding a quiet, almost sad looking Heero standing behind them. His hands were shoved into his tight jean pockets and his eyes were shadowed by his long bangs, downcast upon his tattered old yellow sneakers. It certainly was not the attitude any of them expected out of him. Instead of the unwilling coldhearted Heero of school legend was a more demure unhappy one, one that seemed forlorn and alone.
"Are you ready, then?" Hoshi asked amiably, breaking the gloomy silence.
"Aa," he murmured in Japanese, his low voice like the evening bell that now tolled across the school grounds.
"Good then," she smiled, jumping up and wrenching his wrist from his side and dragging him down the steps towards her other two friends. "Now for some proper introductions. That's Sora and he's D.B., okay?"
"Aa." Once again the quieted sad voice fell from his lips.
"What's wrong?" Sora stood, any fear of Heero she once had of him replaced with a sympathetic feeling towards this unhappy young boy.
"Nani?" his head turned at the new voice, looking at the concerned red head. "Oh, nothing," he said at last, turning away again. Then he went on quietly. "Well can we go? I guess I'm getting kind of hungry."
"Sure," Hoshi answered, blinking a couple times in confusion, the sound of her voice totally unreadable. "We're walking to a little place just in town that D.B. likes."
"It's this little Italian place. Their pizza rules!" D.B. said excitedly as he stood up, pulling Sora and Hoshi along. Heero, whose hand was still gripped tight in Hoshi's, found himself being dragged along behind the human chain as they made their way down the driveway towards the school's front gates.
They walked in a general silence along the way, Hoshi and Sora exchanging a few words on the afternoon's soccer game now and again. Heero followed in his usual stony silence, his thoughts far gone in the past. Of course, he was thinking of Duo. When Hoshi had come banging on his door, begging him to come out to dinner with them with the threat of keeping information on Duo from him, Heero had plunged himself into much loved memories. The thoughts brought warmness to his heart, as well as an empty loneliness. He wanted Duo back more than anything, and he was willing to go to hell and back just to see him once more.
"You really are awful quiet there, Heero," D.B. commented at long last as they strode down the main drag of the little hillside town. "What'cha thinkin' about?"
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Heero answered tartly. It was alright if they hated him, so long as they feared him as well, Heero figured to himself. He was not about to admit that he had been longing for someone, longing for Duo.
"Oh it's so obvious," Hoshi rolled her eyes as she popped up between the two boys, leaning an elbow on each of them. While D.B. laughed at the gesture, Heero grimaced, which only egged Hoshi on further. "Who wants to hear a good story?"
"Me!" Sora said excitedly.
Hoshi was about to launch into some long (most likely embarrassing story), when her eyes noticed that Heero was no longer even paying them any mind. He was back in his own little world, walking a couple paces ahead of them, staring forward as if he were lost in a time and reality that was far, far away.
That could not be any more true, for Heero was busy thinking about the last time he had heard someone laugh. Laughing was something that happened when Duo was around. Laughing was something that Duo was fond of, something that only he could make Heero do. A small private grin crossed Heero's face as his mind provided a ghostly image of Duo on the golden lit sidewalk ahead of him, dancing gleefully as he sang.
"I know it's only rock and roll, but I like it, like it, yes I do!" the memory belted out to the indigo sky above. Then he stopped, spinning around a couple times, braid swinging about behind him like a whip. "Do you like that song, Hee-chan?" the hazy image of Duo asked before fading into the warm glow of the street lamps.
"Uh, Heero, it's here," Sora said, grabbing the back of Heero's shirt and pulling him to a stop. She came to a stop in front of a small restaurant. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall affair that you probably would have overshot if you were not looking for it. Through the two windows in the front of the place, a few small tables could be seen in front of a large deli counter filled with cheese and meat. "Tell us what's on your mind over the pizza, okay?"
Pizza, Heero was off in his own world again. Ha, the last time I had pizza was with Duo when we were boarding together at some school during the war. The jangling of the bell hanging over the door jolted him from his daydreaming, crashing him back in the aromatic Italian joint and its tacky yet wildly interesting knick-knacks and pictures of various cities such as Rome and Venice, soon to be crammed with three almost perfect strangers around two little tables in a nameless town with nameless memories.
"Hey, are you finished thinking to yourself and ready to join up with the living?" Hoshi jammed an elbow into Heero's ribs as the waitress placed a glass of water in front of him. A surprisingly fluent D.B. was meanwhile busy rattling off in Italian to the waitress about the pizza, from what Heero could pick up here and there.
"So Heero," D.B. tried to break the dodged staring about as the waitress strode back to the kitchen, "you're a man we never hear much from. Tell us about yourself."
"There's nothing to tell," Heero shrugged.
"Oh I'm sure there's plenty to tell," Hoshi gave Heero a pat on the shoulder. She could feel him cringing away beneath her touch. "Just because a certain someone happened to tell me all about you beforehand doesn't mean you should hold out on these other two fine lovely people."
"He told you about me?" Heero was shocked. Why had Duo kept himself hidden from him? Had he hurt his old lover in a way to make him angry, even after… after that? Heero could have sworn that Duo could have cared less about it anymore, saying that the pain was what brought them closer together in the end. Nothing made any sense at all, as did many of the things that were now coming to light.
"Sure," Hoshi knew she had Heero exactly where she wanted him. D.B. and Sora were staring at this exchange with a very odd look in their eyes, as if they were not quite sure what to make of the whole situation. Rightly so, since Heero was the last person they ever expected to be sharing a Saturday night pizza with. They had a feeling that things were going to change very much for all four of them.
"Well I'm not quite sure who 'he' is," D.B. began, "but I think you were going to tell us about yourself? We did say this was going to be a night for introductions." He shot a grin at Hoshi, who winked and flashed him a peace sign.
"Fine," Heero rolled his eyes. "I'm Heero Yuy, age eighteen, height—"
"Oh dear, Heero, he means about you," Sora was a little surprised at this initial response to D.B.'s inquiries. "He wants to know stuff like your favourite movie and what schools you've gone to and how many girlfriends you've had and all that kind of stuff." She did not notice the amused look on Hoshi's face nor the slightly nervous expression dabbled on Heero's as she said that last bit.
"I've never had a girlfriend," Heero said evasively.
"Never had a girlfriend?" D.B. and Sora looked shocked as they exclaimed the statement at the exact same time with slack jaws. Sora was particularly stunned since Heero was certainly a very desirable looking boy.
"Favourite food, quick!" Hoshi said suddenly, with a clap of her hands, cutting the silence Heero left hanging over the table. She knew that Heero was not about to talk about Duo right away. Whether or not it was because he was nervous about admitting his sexual preference to them or because he just liked to keep Duo safe in his own heart, she could not quite tell. Perhaps it was even a mixture of both.
"Pizza!" D.B. shouted.
"Crepes!" Sora waved her fork enthusiastically
"And you Heero?"
"Ikura and unagi," he mumbled quietly. When he was met with nothing but dumbfounded stares, he clarified himself. "My favourite kinds of sushi." Then the frustrated soldier mode began to reboot itself in Heero's mind, and he became callous again. "What's this to do with anything? Why do you care?"
Hoshi blatantly ignored him. "Movie!" she went on, without even a sideways glance in Heero's direction.
"Don't have one," D.B. shrugged, taking a sip of his lime soda. "But I do have a bunch I really like. The 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy was pretty sweet."
"Oh I like 'Silence of the Lambs,'" Sora grinned darkly. "It's so cool."
"Please, not while we're eating," D.B. grimaced, waving his hand in Sora's face. At that, all of them minus Heero broke out into laughter. Looking perplexed and feeling very excluded, Heero turned his head away, surveying the rest of the room around him. In the far corner of the restaurant was an old man in a priest's garb, reading from a thin little prayer book. Seeing too much that reminded him of Duo, Heero turned his attentions to another part of the bistro, finding a couple crowding together over what seemed to be wedding plans of some kind, or at least, that's what Heero figured from their excitement and the little blurbs of conversation he could gather. He was just regretting to himself that he would never get to pour over such an occasion with Duo any time soon when he felt the sensation of someone shaking his wrist and returned his concentration to the table, where D.B. was saying to him. "Heero, hey, Heero! Don't you like 'Silence of the Lambs'?"
Heero flushed brilliantly, a sight the trio was sorely shocked to see. "I-I never saw that film."
"Never?" Sora looked absolutely appalled that he never had. "Maybe we should make Heero see it. Maybe he'd like it."
"If he's got the stomach for all that guts and gore," D.B. added, missing Heero's flinch at the mention of death and killing.
"What kinds of movies do you like then, Heero?" Sora pressed.
"Uh, 'Shakespeare in Love' was good. So was 'The Godfather,'" Heero mumbled, grateful that the pizza had arrived, drawing everyone's attention away from him for a moment. "They were Duo's favourite movies."
"Figures as much," Hoshi grinned, hearing his mutterings as she reached for a piece of the huge pizza, laden with everything that could be conceivably baked into one. "You're obsessed."
"I am not!" Heero snapped defensively as he went in for a slice himself. I just miss him, that's all, he found himself reasoning. I just want him to come home.
"What's the deal with this Duo character? It's like Hoshi's got something on you, Yuy, with the way she always brings him up and you get all flustered," D.B. said through mouthfuls of pizza. The only person Heero had ever seen who could shove as much food as that in his mouth at one time was definitely Duo, though it certainly looked like Hoshi, and even Sora, might be able to beat the braided American out there.
Heero was still only on his first slice, D.B. on his third, Hoshi and Sora each on their second when the brown haired girl next to him piped up. "Aw, you want to hear that story now?"
"Sure," Sora grinned. "I always am up for a good story. What were you going to tell us?"
"Big bad Heero has a we-e-eakness for longhaired Americans with purple eyes, did you know?" Hoshi replied in a sing-songy kind of voice, shaking her head a little bit as she spoke and twirling about her index finger, strands of her own long hair threatening to fall free of the large butterfly clip that held it fastened in place behind her head. She ignored the monstrous stare of condemning evil that Heero's eyes radiated towards her.
"Ha, maybe you'll get a shot with him if that's the case," D.B. smirked, downing the rest of his soda and punctuating the sentence with a deafening burp, easily the rudest display of manners Heero had ever witnessed. Sora tapped her fingers nervously on the table in response to D.B.'s comment, thinking back to what she had seen in the school library earlier that day.
"Tch, yeah right, like he'd want me," Hoshi rolled her eyes. She threw an unexpectedly strong arm around Heero's tense shoulders, dragging him into her side, saying to the other two, "There's only room in this boy's heart for one and only one."
D.B. and Sora were obviously interested, the way they were practically leering over the table to hear more from their new friend. Sora, her voice filled with curiosity, just had to know more. "Hey, how come you seem to know everything about Heero?"
"That is a very good question, if you don't mind my saying so," Heero commented coolly, twisting out of Hoshi's grip easily. She may have been a sturdy girl, despite her size, but Heero was obviously the stronger of the two.
"I just met Heero," Hoshi explained, "but Duo and I are like this." She held up her hand, her forefinger and middle finger twisted around each other like a twine of rope. "He's got all kinds of stories about his best buddy, as Heero was always coined with him."
"No, that's what he always used to refer to his Gu—" Heero suddenly realized what he was saying and stopped himself. The other pilots and he had all agreed to keep the Gundams under wraps, not to let anyone know that they had once piloted the massive mobile suits that shaped the present course of history.
"What was that?" Sora looked confused.
"Nothing," Heero mumbled. He sat up straight again and turned his attentions back on Hoshi, shooting a question her way in a very no-nonsense voice. "Where did you meet Duo?"
"Used to do maintenance on mobile suits during the war," Hoshi said vaguely, that faint glimmer in her eye. "Used to bang around with his once in a while, before he really started piloting."
"I guess that makes sense," Heero said under his breath, still not completely satisfied with the answers he was being given. Heero was always the type to get information quickly and efficiently, but this was a totally different kind of situation. Unlike during the war, when he could just whip out his pistol and threaten whoever was withholding what he needed at gunpoint, this was a completely more delicate operation. He knew things would go slower with Hoshi playing things her way, and he could not say that he exactly liked being at someone else's mercy, particularly when that someone had perfectly malicious ways of making you beg for facts.
"What kind of suit was it?" Sora, as was typical of her, became excited as the conversation began to shift towards the objects of her passion.
"It was a revolutionary model," Hoshi started to say, excitedly starting to get into her mechanics mode for conversation. Heero felt his muscles freeze for the zillionth time that night, afraid that all the cover he had kept for himself and his friends would be blown because of one tactless, overly talkative girl, who knew way more than she should.
"Enough," Heero held up his hand. He had just about had it with all these close calls and these people's inability to not talk about Duo. It was starting to drive him mad, and the one thing Heero was feeling that he needed more than anything at that exact moment was a long cold shower. He stood, neatly pushing his chair beneath the disaster covered table. "I appreciate you're wanting to bring me out with you for the meal. It was not as bad as it could have been, however, I do not feel the need to stay and listen to all this. It… it hurts too much…."
"Oh Heero, come on, she wasn't going to say anything bad or anything," D.B. moaned, throwing his arms up in the air. "Hang with us for just a little more and we'll walk back together. Half the point of a meal is talking and having fun, not just eating."
"I can get myself back just fine, thanks, much," Heero said plainly as he started to step away from the trio. Just as he was about to leave, he paused in the doorway and commented, "I was not kidding when I said it was all okay. Perhaps we really can talk again sometime when I've gotten a better hold on my feelings."
Heero hustled back to the school, his brusque walk lighted only by the iron streetlamps along the way until he reached the glowing school building on the outskirts of town. Climbing the stairs to his dorm two at a time, he stumbled into his room, shedding his clothes on his way to his bed. He supposed he had not realized how tired he actually was, his body barely able to even pull down the sheets. The last occasion he had felt so spent was years ago with Duo. Spending time with the braided American could prove to be very energy consuming. Had it been because Duo was so much fun to be around? Had it been that he had actually had fun with those three? Fun was something he had not experienced since the war, horrible as it sounded, since Duo and he had gone on with their own separate lives.
Heero rolled over to face the wall, staring at a photograph of the five of them that was tacked to the wall, right at eye level. In the patches of moonlight he could make out his lover's grinning countenance, Trowa's unwavering calm and Quatre's peaceful smile. Wufei stood a little apart from the group, a meditative look upon his face. And then there was the image of himself, stoic and looking unhappy, despite the arm that Duo had flung around his waist. Were they right? Am I really that miserable? Heero wondered in the dark, his fingers reaching out to caress the glossy surface of the snapshot. A comforting new thought grew in his mind shortly after though, as his fingers lingered upon the likeness of Duo's face. Well, when this was taken I guess I was. Duo made me feel better as time wore on and we became closer. Duo made me smile.
He felt his eyes beginning to droop closed with sleep, the fatigue of the most eventful evening of his life beginning to take a real toll on his wasted body. Sure, he could still run laps around the campus for hours without feeling the slightest strain, still could shoot a three-pointer from mid-court, still could do everything from sports to computers to literature, everything that is, but live. He knew his life had lost something very important and the shadow that harvested itself in his mind grew a little more every day, constantly reminding him of the greatest mistake he had ever made. Not unordinary, the said shadow began to feed his poor distraught soul the memories of the past that charmed and haunted him.
"Oh Heero," he could hear Duo's husky voice in his head as the haze of dreams swirled behind his closed eyelids and through his subconscious. "Oh Heero, yeah…." The much-desired image of Duo lying beneath him manifested itself in his dreamer's eye, slick with sweat, head thrown back in ecstasy as he chanted his name like a mantra of passion. He could almost touch Duo, the fantasy was so real, could almost kiss him and caress him. "God Heero, I love it when you touch me. Heero… Mm, touch me just like that, Heero…."
A low moan escaped Heero's lips, his sleeping body nearly writhing with lust at the steamy vision his mind created for him. "Heero! Heero, my Hee-chan!" Duo's voice sounded in his head, louder and more pleasure-driven with every cry. He tossed his head back and forth, his seemingly endless cascade of beautiful milk chocolate hair brushing the pillow upon which his head lay with every movement.
"Ah, ah, Heero! Oh Heero, it hurts!" Heero's brow twitched involuntarily with distraught, as the dream suddenly began to morph. Duo's body began to change, bruises slowly beginning to form around his eyes and on his cheeks, covering his chest and arms, spots of blood on his lips and dotting the darkest contusions. "Heero! Heero! Make it stop! Hee-chan, please make it stop! It hurts, Heero! It hurts!" Heero flopped over on his other side, obliviously throwing his pillow over his head in his sleep, as if to block out Duo's pain filled yells. This was where the shadow ceased mesmerizing him and began to torment him with angst. He could see the tears streaming down Duo's face, so real that he tasted the salty droplets on his tongue. Or were those his own tears? Heero grimaced, eyes squinting tighter as Duo's voice came back, more pained than ever. "Heero! Heero… it hurts…."
"Duo," Heero mumbled into the mattress of the little dormitory bed, his head pressed downwards into it beneath the pillow he still kept clamped tightly over his head. "Stop crying Duo…. Please, just stop crying…."
"Heero…."
"No more crying!"
"It hurts Heero…."
"No more!"
"It hurts to be dead…."
"Stop, please!"
"…Forever…."
Heero was sent throttling into reality, finding himself sitting bolt right up in bed, his sheets on the wooden floor, pillow on the complete opposite side of the room as if it had been flung there in a moment of insanity. Streaked in sweat, he was breathing hard and unsteadily, his heart pummeling in his chest, loud enough for him to hear its steady thumping in the heavy silence around him. With a slight shake of his head, he brought a hand to his steaming forehead, blinking hard to try and focus his eyes and chase away the pounding headache between his ears.
Sliding out of bed, his bare feet hitting the freezing floor beneath him, he wearily made his way to the little water closet in the back of the dorm. It was just a little room with naught more than a sink and a shower, but it was enough to suffice. Thank Shinigami and whatever other gods cared to listen that he did not have to share it with anyone. Bent over the sink, he splashed a wave of icy water into his face in an attempt to calm his nerves. He let his hands linger over his heated flesh, the water dripping between his fingers, not even able to distinguish the tap water from his tears. Then, groping his way back into the bedroom in the half-light, he felt his way to the bedside table and wrenched open the drawer, fishing around for the pack of cigarettes and the lighter he always kept there. Climbing onto the spare bed and sitting by the window, he threw the glass and wood panel upwards and leaned out into the fair night air, feeling the fading winter sting his face as he lit one of the cigarettes and brought it to his lips with a heavy sigh. It was a bad habit he had picked up from Duo during old days and never quite gotten rid of. Though he had never had smoked as incessantly as Duo tended to, he had always had felt the need for one whenever he was feeling sad or depressed. He wondered if it was a bad sign that he found himself always in need of buying a couple packs to last him a week.
"Duo," he heaved out a breath with a cloud of smoke and frozen gasp of air. He had always been strong back when they were together; he had always let Duo lean on him and allowed him use of his shoulder for a good cry. Not until the war had ended had Heero realized how much he had leaned on Duo. But Duo had needed a place to stay and a good job, two things that his friend Hilde could offer him. Heero had nothing but silent love, and that was not good enough for Duo, not by Heero's standards anyway. He felt that the ever-chattering American had deserved so much more, and had actually been very supportive of the idea of Duo getting a job at Hilde's salvage yard. It had been the best for him, though the dejected look on Duo's face, a look Heero would have to die, at the bare minimum, six thousand times over to forget, spoke volumes of his unhappiness with the decision. Now that he looked back on it, Heero decided he was not too happy with that decision either. He had let the most important person in his life slip away, and it had been years since he had last seen the foul mouthed braided idiot.
Outside Heero's window was a magnificent sight. The hills that this little town was built on rolled on into a large mountain range that faded back into the foggy distance. Stars twinkled and faded out in the sky, blue clouds washing over the pale yellow moon. Just beneath his high loft window was a courtyard that reached out into a dense forest of tall sturdy trees, all painted a bluish green colour in the bright night. Odd shadows played about here and there beneath the trees in wacky shapes of all kinds, moving ever so slightly in the dull wind. Heero could have sworn that he saw someone wandering around in the indistinguishable darkness, but his eyes were so bleary from the uncontrollable hushed tears that fell from his beautiful slanted eyes, that he could hardly focus on anything at all. Flicking the dying cigarette butt out into the courtyard, he lit up another and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He could feel the pain in his chest growing with every nightmare. Maybe that's part of why I'm so unsocial during the day, Heero tried to explain to himself, because I'm not getting enough sleep. These damn dreams about Duo just get more graphic and disturbing every night. Ha, might end up killing myself in my sleep one of these days. He let out a raucous insane laugh that resembled his psychotic battle laughs of old.
Suddenly, there was a fierce knocking on the door. "Heero? Heero, are you awake? I heard a scream." It was D.B., his voice sounding wrought with concern, a tone that Heero was sincerely surprised to hear. Nevertheless, he felt somewhat grateful that there was at least one soul in the world that worried about his well being, no matter how premature the friendship was. At this point, he would have taken confidence with the Devil, not that it was such an unwelcome thing. The Devil was sure to be good friends with Shinigami.
Heero shuffled over to the door, cigarette still hanging out of his mouth as he opened the door tiredly. D.B. looked very startled at the Heero that greeted him at the door, dark circles under his eyes, a pack of cigarettes in one hand and a lighter in the other. "W-were you screaming, Heero? What's wrong?"
"I don't scream," Heero said blandly, opening the door wider as so D.B. could step into the room. "And nothing is wrong. I just couldn't sleep."
"You look like you're no stranger to this," D.B. said, his voice now very, very concerned for his new friend. He ripped the cigarettes and the lighter from Heero's hands. "You know this shit is bad for you. Could kill you, you know."
"Don't care if I die," the small Japanese boy said coldly, snatching the stolen items back. He inhaled deeply of the little nicotine filled roll of paper as if to emphasize his point. "I seem to be very bad at dying in any case."
"It's against school policy anyway," D.B. tried to make another grab at Heero's cigarettes but soon gave up when he realized that Heero was far quicker than he, even when he looked like he was about to collapse. "…Or not," he ended up saying, sinking down on the bed, staring up at the almost frightening Heero that stood in the center of the room.
"What do you want?" Heero retrieved his old white mask and carefully fitted it over his distraught face, his expression now cold and unwavering, hiding any traces of the broken young man that had sat sighing by the window.
D.B. bit his lip and stammered, "Well like I said, I thought I heard you screaming? Were you screaming? Why couldn't you sleep Heero? Did you dream something bad?"
"Yes."
"Will you tell me about it?" D.B. could not believe that he was asking such a thing from a boy no one could have paid him enough money to approach just a few days ago. Hell, that very morning Heero had almost beaten him to a bloody pulp and yet now, D.B. could feel nothing but a warm friendship for the mysterious saddened youth with messy dark hair and sharp blue eyes. If Hoshi says that he's good, then he must be, D.B. reassured himself with a mental pat on the back. Hoshi seems to be clever about that kind of thing, and she must see something in Heero that no one else does. I'm thinking like I'm beginning to see it too….
"No." Heero's jarring one worded answer stirred D.B. from his musings.
"Why not?" D.B. queried. "Sometimes it really helps to talk about stuff like this. You know, just, let it out of your system and all."
"It's none of your business."
"Well I came to help you out when you were sad," D.B. shrugged. "I think I'm involved now." His face darkened a little bit, as he looked Heero straight in the eye. "Don't tell me that you're not sad. You look like you might cry. Have you been crying, Heero?"
"I… I don't…." Heero tried to say, but even as he stumbled over the words, he could feel his eyes moistening once again as thoughts of Duo danced across the plane of his mind, the steely look upon his face wavering between the strong and the defeated passions inside. "I don't… Boys don't…." He still could not find the words to say it. He could not say it. He could not lie anymore.
"Boys don't…?" D.B. seemed to almost be daring him to continue. He could see Heero's defenses beginning to weaken right before his very eyes. Who would have ever thought that all that antisocial behavior that Heero demonstrated during the day was naught more than a mask to hide truths and secrets about his past that he would have told only the Devil.
"…Cry," Heero finally managed to finish as a lonely tear rolled down his cheek. He mumbled it again softly, "Boys don't cry…."
"But you're crying, Heero. You're a strong battle scarred boy and you're crying," D.B. whispered as he reached out to take Heero's limp hand reassuringly. With a gentle squeeze, he said, "It's okay to cry, Heero. You should cry. It's good for you to cry when you're sad."
"You sound like… That's like something Duo might say," Heero handled a weak smile at his obviously caring new friend as he extinguished his low burning roll of tobacco and nicotine on the wooden beside table, already charred with burn marks from past cigarettes put out in a similar fashion. "…Even though it was Duo who always used to say that boys should never cry."
"Did Duo ever cry?" D.B. asked. He might have not had a bloody clue in hell who Duo was or what he might have possibly meant to Heero, but he was no fool; he could tell that this was the way to help console the broken soldier before him. Somehow, D.B. could tell that Duo was a vital key as to unlocking the human protected behind Heero's shields.
"Yeah."
"Why would he cry, Heero?" D.B. gave Heero a yank and forced him to sit on the bed in a more comfortable position as the former boy leapt to his feet in turn, dragging the desk chair to the center of the room where he sat facing the Japanese looking forlornly at the floor.
"Lots of things made him sad. He cried a lot when he thought about his past or after a battle where a lot of people had died. He called himself Shinigami, the God of Death, but still, he still never got used to the killing that went along with war. He… he cried a lot for me… with me. I think the only times I've ever cried were in his arms," Heero was lost in his reminiscence, hardly aware that D.B. was in the room as he spoke. D.B. had been right though; it did feel good to let everything out. It made things a fraction better, Heero guessed. "Ah, but he cried when he was happy too. He always confused me like that. He was… such a paradox…."
"Duo was your comrade at arms then?" D.B. was still trying to piece this all together with what meager information he had been fed. He made a mental note to ask Hoshi some more about Duo when he had the chance. She seemed to know a lot about this strange character and what kind of influence he had on Heero and his past.
"He was," Heero nodded slightly, sliding back so he resting on the backs of his elbows. "He was that and… so much more."
"How much more?" D.B. knew he might be pressing Heero just a little much, but it was killing him to know. This half knowledge about Heero just sent him questing for more. Heero was almost more mysterious now that D.B. knew a little bit of his past than he had been when he had known absolutely nothing about the soldier's history.
"Everything more," Heero said vaguely, collapsing at last onto his back, staring up at the sloped plaster ceiling. Rolling over into a more comfortable position, his head cradled in his arms, resting upon the pillow, his eyes got a bit droopy, feeling much more at peace than he had in quite some time, like a sleep that he had been missing for years was about to fall upon him. "Everything… more…. He was my…."—he let out a long lazy yawn—"everything…."
D.B. stared at Heero's now sleeping prone body, a look of utter amazement upon his face. So that's who Duo was, D.B. found a good portion of the puzzle fitting together. To think that a guy like him had a soft spot for another human being… well damn! D.B. shook his head, realizing that there was still a good myriad of gaps left in his mental Heero jigsaw. For the first time, he noticed the mural of photographs tacked to the wall over Heero's bed. Though there seemed to be a few other boys in the pictures, he could not help but notice a good bunch of pictures portraying Heero and a thin American looking boy with long brown hair. Another clue suddenly clicked. So that's why he acts so odd around Hoshi, D.B. realized, pulling the blankets over Heero's shivering body. She does have that sort of look. I wonder what kinds of wonders… and horrors… seeing her everyday does to his conscience? He knew he really did not have to think very hard about it to figure it out.
As he was about to close the door to Heero's dorm on the way out, he thought he heard a faintly audible mumble roll from the darkness of the room.
"Thanks D.B."
{{A/N}} Sorry this took a while to get up. Little power cord trouble with my laptop. Brief song credit goes to the Rolling Stones. It's only a line, so you might have missed it. In any case, if you could spare five seconds of your time to tell me what you thought of this chapter, that would be great. I really need the self-esteem right now…. I'm not feeling very happy with my life right now. (When I'm not thinking about anime, I tend to dream in red—and it hurts) Anyway, enough of my complaining. See you next week.