~ Author's Note: Hey! I'm back with a new spectacular chapter (ha, no.) Anyway, this chapter is somewhat a bit more reflective than the first, and you'll see a lot more interaction between the five Gundam Pilots. You might, if you're lucky, find out what exactly happened to their mobile suits and such. Anyway, please comment all and I'll be sure to provide more chapters to come. Oh, and the bold means it's almost Trowa's alter-ego/inner self telling him to do stuff. To all those who reviewed: thanks! I've been working overtime to bring you another chapter. Sorry about the grammar stuff-I was too busy to read over it. I know this isn't as long as last time, but I hope you all will review anyway. There will be more if I ever get time to finish it. Don't worry. ~
Chapter 2: Nothingness
Journal— Date: April 5, 2003
Take away the pain and the doubt; the hatred and fear; the good, the evil, and the neutral. Take away love and friends; home and war; freedom and slavery. Take away your name; your looks; your personality. If you take away life in general, what's left? Is it nonexistence? What if you're all that's left because you are nothingness? What would it be like to be nothing? I imagine it would be quite nice because you wouldn't be surrounded by something. Being nothing means you are in nothingness. There's no thought, no hurt; no pain. You don't have to bury the dead or mourn the loss of family you barely ever knew.
Sometimes I find myself pondering over nothing, getting lost in thought of having something. I have no name, no home; no life. I am a robot, waiting to be commanded. Who will command me? Will my dead parents? Will Heero, Duo, Wufei, or Quatre? None of them can or will. Will God? He won't either. God commands those worthy of his attention. God loves only those who love him back. Do I? I've never been one to hate, but he took away my life. It was my life and I kind of needed it.
It is early afternoon and I'm alone at the house. Duo has a date with some red-hot chick; Quatre went out to see a musical; Heero is out on a walk down the bike path; Wufei has gone to see an action movie. He tried to convince me to go with him, apparently uncomfortable with the idea of me being alone. I think he's onto my certain…er…bad habits. What I mean when I say bad habits is that I am now taking drugs much more religiously than before. There's talk of war and some rebuilding of our mobile suits and—fuck—I just can't take this anymore.
I don't really understand life to begin with. What's the point? You're born, go through shit, and then die. Sure, there's stuff you experience other than that, but like books, everything ends. There's a beginning, middle, and ending to everyone's life. Maybe you get some sequels if you're lucky; maybe it's a bestseller, but what's the big deal? When it comes down to it, you're no different than the next guy. Whether you win an award or not, people will forget you anyway. When a book's done, it's done. That first impression was made and that's the same with life. You're dead and buried and nothing to the living. It's even worse if you're dead before you're buried.
Maybe I'll just end it today. I'll give up, shut down, and forget life. Screw feelings; I'm tired of being dead and empty and absolutely nothing to the world. I'm tired of drugs and self-hatred. I'm tired of being alone.
Everyone's out in their little worlds and lives, happy to be skipping about and tending to whatever they're tending to (or in Duo's case, whoever he's tending to). Do I even cross their minds? No, I don't, because they all expect me to be here when they get back. I'm always here no matter what. Good, old Trowa and his stable ways. I'd like to see them say that while watching me inject some random drug into my arm.
I look around the house and sigh. Everything's so peaceful and still that it almost aches to look at it. The bookcase remains untouched and dusted; a monument to Heero's incredible knowledge and achievements. Above it, Wufei's two Japanese swords stand, both dangerous and beautiful at the same time. They sparkle in the pale, falling sunshine and I'm tempted to take one down. I've seen Wufei use them before as he used to practice in the yard to keep his strength and sanity up. I used to like watching him stand there, a powerful symbol of Japanese (is it Chinese? Oh well. They're all the bloody same in my opinion) force and bravery. Wufei just has that impression on you.
I turned away from the swords and continued down the hall, trying to keep my mind off of whatever was eating away at my heart. The night was coming quickly and all of the lights were off so I could barely see where I was going except from memory. I love the night sky because that's the perfect example of oblivion. It's a black void that can never be filled, no matter how hard you try. Sure, there are stars out there, but what do they count for? Stars are like fireflies blinking in spring—you see them and then you don't. It's gone in a second until a new one comes along and takes its place; reminds me of life.
I hear the phone ring and weigh out the possibility that it's Quatre, calling to check up on me. I pick up the blasted handle and mutter an annoyed "Hello?" into the receiver. I hate phones.
"Trowa, is that you?" It's Quatre, shockingly enough. He seems a bit worried and distraught, hearing the absent tone of my voice. I should've taken the time to settle down, I suppose, but what can you do?
"Yeah, Quatre, it's me. You just caught me by surprise." Lying is great on the phone because people can't see your expression and tell if you're being honest or not. The manner of which you speak is a small fraction in the picture, but it doesn't really prove anything.
"Oh, okay. I'm just calling to check on you. I should be home in a few hours with everyone else and we all would like to know if you want to go out and get dinner tonight." Since when did everyone plan to go out to dinner and then ask me if I wanted to? I guess it really is April because I never could get that month. Something about it always throws me off. Perhaps it's tax day.
"It's okay with me," I say as nonchalantly as I can. The shock of being asked for my opinion is still taking me a minute to work out. As I said before, the war split us up even more than before. We used to have a bond and now the only thing that's keeping me under this roof is…well…the fact that I'm broke and it's a roof. Plus, I usually don't have to pay for regular stuff like clothes or food or even candy. It helps to have a friend who's a billionaire.
"Great! At 10 meet us outside and we'll all go to the pizza place, okay?" He sounds happy. I must be missing something. Maybe Quatre picked up a guy at the musical with pink tights. Oh yes, pink tights are always a bonus with Quatre. He was ecstatic when he saw Heero come in pinkish spandex. I've never laughed so hard internally.
"Okay, Quatre." Just agree with him, dimwit. Don't make a big scene or he'll ask what's wrong and then you'll have to "discuss" stuff. You don't want to get everyone involved, do you? Don't be an idiot.
I sigh and hang up, ignoring the raging voices in my head. The kitchen light is staring down at me as if I was being interrogated for a crime. I try to imagine myself sitting in a dark, bare room with a cruel, fat detective leering at him. He smells like stale donoughts with his gray hair and porky face. I shiver, despite it being just a small fantasy. It was just too real for me to take. I could see myself perfectly.
It's about 8, so I have two hours alone to myself. I could always play video games, but Duo broke The Two Towers when he couldn't beat the fifth level and that's the only game I'm good at. I could always read, but what would I pick? All of the books here I've already read twice. Heero insists on reading a book over and over again until he's mesmerized it. Yeah, he's not very cultural.
I ignore the constant desire to just take up Wufei's sword and cut my fucking head off. It's hard to say I'm suicidal because I'm not sure if I really want to end my life or not. I've never gotten straightforward feelings like that. Stuff isn't black and white with me and probably never will be. Sometimes I'm happy and sometimes I'm not, but it's never all the way. There's always some part of me that's just lacking complete emotion, which means that the rest of me usually ends up empty as well. I admire people who can just laugh or cry so carelessly without a second thought. They feel sad or happy and experience the emotion whether it's bliss or complete hell. I'd go for both because this limbo thing isn't really working for me. I wish I didn't have to live in such gray.
Maybe the reason I feel like I can confide in you is because you don't judge. You don't react, in fact, so this is really only a one-way thing. I get absolutely nothing from your side, and while that's mildly depressing, it's also pretty good. You don't worry, yell, or scream at me. I don't feel guilty for burdening you with shit because I know you're inanimate and someday I'll just be able to burn you without a second thought. No pain, you see? It's a win-win situation in most cases. Sure, I might not come out alive and sane, but that's acceptable. No one would really mind, me least of all.
I better go get ready. I'm too pale and my hair's a mess so I sincerely doubt that there wouldn't be some questioning about my current state. I think I might take a shower and scald myself from the burning water. Wahoo.
Journal, Date: 10:30 AM, Saturday, April 5, 2003
I just got out of the shower and I have a few burn marks on my left arm. I don't mind because burns are usually pretty easy to ignore. I dress in baggy, black jeans and loose, blue shirt. I remember when I used to wear those tight jeans and I always frown at that memory in disgust. I hated those pants, but there was really nothing else I could wear. You learn to deal when you lack money and brains.
Quatre rang the doorbell as I had locked the door (at his request) and walked in with the rest of the gang. Their faces were all blushed from the cold, but there was laughter ringing in their eyes. I could tell that despite the bitter freeze of fall, life was still lively and warm in my comrades' hearts. Even with their problems, everyone seems to be able to deal with whatever and move on. They don't bury it deep within themselves. They deal with it.
"Hey, Trowa! What's up, buddy?" Duo's cheerful voice ripped me out of my melancholy mood and I managed a small, sincere smile. Despite the constant blabbering and lack of proper grammar, Duo is probably one of the nicest guys you'll ever find. He just cares about his friends and there's never a question about that. He'll cheer you up in five seconds flat by only saying two words. It's a pretty nice gift, especially with guys like me.
"Nothing much, Duo. How was your date?" I let them in and close the door behind me, watching my friends relieve themselves of countless jackets and some scarves (in Quatre's case).
"It was excellent! She was such a total babe. Alas, however, I found myself a bit bored by her drawling voice and lack of interesting topics." This is how Duo talks sometimes to sound important and a "higher" being. Wufei, Heero, Quatre, and I all snorted with laughter at his sudden properness. The date must've really sucked because he used one of those fake, pompous English accents that will drive you insane.
"I'm going to go make hot chocolate and then we can go," Quatre announced before retreating into the brightly lit kitchen. I heard a few clangs as he got out some pans and searched for a few spoons.
As Wufei and Heero went into the living room to retire their obviously sore legs, I was asked by Duo to help him with putting some annoying girl poster up on his wall. If it's Pamela Anderson again I will kill him, then her. I cannot stand stupid blonde-haired, big-boobed, ditzy, Baywatch, American—okay, maybe I just can't stand Americans in general.
I grabbed the poster from Duo's grasp and studied it. Hm…it was Star Trek, so I guess I could live with that. While he jabbered on and on mindlessly, I busied myself with tacking the poster upon his wall. Everything around me swirls so fast sometimes I find myself dazing out, just to catch my breath. My life is a whirlwind of my friends, their problems, and my own. It's no wonder why I can't sleep at night—I'm still caught in that tornado stupid people like to call life.
I hate to say this, but people like Duo and Quatre are the reasons I haven't gone out of my mind in misery yet. Wufei and Heero don't expect anything of me. I'm the quiet one, and even if I shouted till my throat hurt, they wouldn't notice. Duo and Quatre--they need me to talk sometimes. I have to keep the conversation going or they get worried. Like if I do one thing differently from what I normally do I'm suddenly suicidal. Sometimes that's a good thing and sometimes it's just plain annoying.
"So, anyway, buddy, what have you been doing the past couple of hours?" It takes me a minute to actually get what he asked me because I was so caught up in my own thoughts. I suppose zoning out can have its downs as well.
"Oh…took a shower. That's about it." Give him a regular answer that he won't question you. Don't sound suspicious or hurt or upset unless you want to get yourself sent to an institution. Yeah, I didn't think so.
"Took you a while," He said with a cheeky grin and I managed a cocky smile in return. My back was to him as I finished putting up the poster and hopped down from my stool. I'm not sure why he wanted my help because he could have easily done it himself. Am I missing something here?
"Well…I'm done." I grabbed the stool and headed out of Duo's room without a glance back. The key to walking away from someone or something is just to walk away. Don't get tangled up in all of the shit that goes along with letting go. Once you're gone, it's over. There's no turning back. It's like throwing something into the ocean. The tide just takes that bit away. It still exists, but it's no longer in your life. It's no longer in your mind.
Life is a lot like the ocean, in fact. Sometimes it's a monstrous catastrophe that'll drive you out of your mind, and sometimes it's as calm and as peaceful as the morning wind. Unfortunately, if you get landed with a tsunami, it could get pretty ugly for you. Glad I don't live near the ocean. Have you ever noticed that bad times tend to happen in shifts? Every awful thing you could ever possibly imagine tends to happen with those other horrible things you didn't expect. Stuff comes in packages, and I suppose it works the same way with life. Maybe God just likes to be organized?
I walk out to the dining room, only to find myself watching four people who generally care about each other. It's always been Heero, Wufei, and Duo, plus Quatre who is everyone's friend. It's hard when you're not a part of that. They all have been friends longer; have liked each other more; they all just seem to fit. It doesn't really help me, but at least I get to watch. I'm an observer, which means that I'm generally watching life pass me by instead of jumping in head first like some other people (*cough* Duo! *cough*).
"Ow! Duo, you burnt me!"
"Sorry! Didn't know that your hand. Well, glad it wasn't mine."
"Damnit, Duo!"
I laugh quietly to myself and turn away, leaning up against the wall in the shadows. Wufei and Duo went on arguing, but I'm done listening. Did I really have a place with them? I was just the peacemaker; the listener. I wasn't the friend. And Heero—why does it hurt so much to know that even he is winning in life? Heero has everything going for him. He's smart, possibly funny, and the "perfect soldier". Am I perfect at anything? No. I used to be able to draw and play guitar, but I gave those up years ago. Passion was lacking in my life so I just decided that trivial things like music and art were things only kids did. I was just 13, too.
I can't envision any other life. I know my existence hasn't been the easiest to live through, but I don't want it to be painless to begin with. How else could I evolve into the fucked up state I'm in now? If my life had turned out any other way, I'd be one of those preppy assholes that can't tell left from right. I still can't, but at least I'm not preppy. I'm not quite sure what I am, though. Am I gothic? I like black, sure, but I don't go around worshipping Satan. That would mean I'd be worshipping Wufei, and, ha, no, I wouldn't ever do that. He'd probably flay me for even suggesting it.
Am I nerdy? To be nerdy, that indicates that I would to be smart and…I'm not. Not really, at least. I'm perceptive, but that doesn't really count. I stink at math and can't write for the life of me. My scientific knowledge is absolutely shot and foreign languages—must I even start? Besides, I can hold my own. Nerds tend to be a bit wimpy, and while I'm not the toughest person you'll ever meet, I'm not the kid that'll be getting wedgies anytime soon either.
So what the hell am I? I don't know. Everyone else has a place in life and especially here in this group. There's room for each and every pilot except me. Too many quiet people, I think. Heero beat me to the broody, self-tormented thing; Wufei already stole the "I don't give a damn" image so there's really nothing left for me. I could never pull a Duo nor could I be compassionate like Quatre. I'm Trowa, and obviously there's no room for him, whoever the hell he is. I don't think I even know.
Duo announces that it's time to head off so we all pulls on our jackets, hats, etc. and head out of the door into the wide world of whatever. The bittersweet wind nips at my cold flesh as I take a step down from the porch. Bright lights seer my already tired eyes and yet I don't seem to notice. I'm caught between heaven and hell. Everything is so great and cool that I think I might just commit suicide because of the inferiority (just kidding).
We all start walking down the silent street, laughing and talking as we go. Duo's trying to convince Wufei that movies should be seen, not heard (yeah, I know, it's fucked up); while Quatre and Heero are arguing about God knows what. I'm just walk in silence, listening sometimes and others watching the world pass me by.
We reach town in a matter of minutes and I find myself amidst a world of screaming and laughing, kissing and running; hating and loving. Cars beep irritably as restaurant owners take orders from the take-out window. Everything's so fast and blurry I begin to feel dizzy from either nausea or anxiety. I can't tell which.
We sit down at a small pizza parlor and order two large pizzas: pepperoni and cheese. I smile to myself quietly and feel for the first time happy. Nothing in my head is saying something to contrary. My friends are here, great food is coming, and life isn't so bad because I'm not killing anyone. Maybe I don't have a place with these people. Maybe I do. I guess I'll just have to stick around to find out.