by Kentra Shinataku
[I.] I am the Lord thy God; thou shalt not have any gods before Me.
He's heaving on his knees beside me. I mean, we're both pretty out of breath, but I think that's just a little dramatic. I doubt he's ever had to run that far that fast.
"Quatre?" I better not lose him here; we still have quite a ways to go. I really don't need the burden of his memory on my conscience right now.
"Fine," he gasps, and he doesn't look up.
We're out of enemy territory now, but it's broad daylight. If anyone cared to fly over us... well, we're pretty damn exposed from overhead.
Even I can't keep this up without a quick drink. There's nothing but warm, water in my whiskey flask, and right about now it's better than anything I've ever had. I don't know how long we've been running, but we damn well should have had a get away vehicle or somethin'. I offer the little bottle to Quatre, not really sure of what to say. Probably should just save my breath; I'm gonna need it before this day's over. I kinda want to laugh that he can't really keep up, but that's just cruel. Lucky for me, he speaks first.
"No, can't have anything."
Well, that puzzles the shit out of me. "Take it, Quatre. I'll be fine."
He smiles at me with that damn attempt at innocence he always pulls. "It's not that. I'm Muslim, Duo. It's Ramadan."
"What?" I give him a look, wondering what the hell religion has to do with anything.
"I can't eat or drink during the day this month."
For a few minutes, I just stare at him, watching him tremble from lack of oxygen. I really, really, would like to take this opportunity to hit him. He's being ridiculous.
"You're not gonna make it at this rate. Why's it so important that you're gonna risk your life and the damn mission?"
"Allah commanded it."
Idiot. He really was an idiot. "You fool. There is no God."
[II.] Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.
I know I don't have enough time as I run toward the back exit. This place is going to blow with me still inside and there's nothing I can fucking do about it. God damn it, why didn't I set the bomb to hold off for just a little longer? Thirty seconds would have been enough! There was no way to know I'd run into those security guards and stand helpless as complete chaos unfurled around me. The God damned assholes weren't there on my way in.
My life might be one in a million, completely insignificant, but I don't think I'm quite finished with it yet, thank you very much. I'd like to hold on to it for just a little longer. God damn it, I have a war to fight here. I have to hold on.
My legs carry me as fast as they can-- I'm suddenly thankful for my years of running from cops and angry vendors-- and my finger is on the trigger left and right. The God damned blood is painted all over the white walls. Doesn't white signify Purity? What is so God damn pure about scarlet stains of broken life spattered over a structure that was supposedly designed never to be overthrown? Purity can be damned to Hell right about now, 'cause I need to get my ass out of this place before I blow right along with it.
I forget about my legs as I'm dashing through the door, feeling more like something else is carrying me and I'm just gliding through the air, and once I'm outside, I'm so numb that I can't feel the below freezing air nipping at my ass like a guard dog. As soon as I'm far enough away, I sink down to my knees behind a tree, watching the base be consumed by monstrous flames that I can't hear.
"God... damn... it..."
[III.] Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it Holy.
Another Taurus pops up on my radar, coming fast from behind. No match for me; this area is pretty much clear now. Heero's moved on to let me finish up before we rendezvous. I pretend it's not coming for me, my hands gripping the controls with less energy than they had been fifteen minutes ago, and I look around slowly, daring it to take me from behind. Sure, Pilot 02 has a busted radar system, you can believe that. Assholes, you barely gave my buddy here a scratch. Do you really expect me to take you seriously?
Obviously not.
I lean back contentedly against the seat of my cockpit, wallowing in the silence of space and the faint buzzing of searing metal from what was once a Taurus. My radar monitor hums contented music for me as I stare out into the black nothingness before me. I feel no remorse for the nameless soldier inside the Taurus; he or she got what was coming for them. You can't escape Death. After a few minutes of letting my adrenaline simmer to a level where I don't have the urge to run a marathon, I enter the commands to pull up my audio-log.
"Destruction of Taurus troop #3698 confirmed by Pilot 02. The date is Sunday, June 10, AC 195."
[IV.] Honor thy father and mother.
And I wondered what it would be like to have parents of my very own, parents to coax me through my nightmares and to tell me they love me. The closest I had to a family was the gang, and they're gone, too. Everything I touch dies.
"What were they like, Wufei?" The wind was howling and I was afraid the shaky walls of this patch-hole hut wouldn't hold up.
"I don't know," he answered, his closed eyes never leaving the shadowy ceiling, "they were good people, I guess."
"Don't you remember?"
"I remember perfectly, Maxwell," Wufei said sharply, his eyelashes twitching, "but they didn't seem to want me around. I stayed out of their way and they stayed out of mine."
"Uh huh. Do you miss them?"
"Sometimes," he said, his relaxed body signaling the negativity he wouldn't verbally express, "what about you?"
I'm taken aback. "Huh?"
"Do you miss your family?"
"Well, I dunno, Wufei," I grin sarcastically, closing my own eyes to the world around me, "'s'kinda hard to miss a cunt who left you on alone on the streets."
[V.] Thou shalt not kill.
Why the hell does my hand shake like this? Hell, I know there's too much riding against me to pull the trigger and end that miserable guy's life in one shot and there's no way I can get the disk off him while he's still alive and strutting around like a God damn rock star, but why does it have to be this way? I'd shoot his fucking brains out, if there weren't several other guards stationed within jogging distance to hear the shot, and I'm alone. I can't take them all at once, unarmed as I am.
I call myself the God of Death because that's what I am. I should have some fucking messenger angels to do my dirty work, or somethin'.
Were I in Deathscythe right now, I wouldn't give this another thought, but to do this without bullets or scythe is... well, hard, and this knife in my hand is too slippery, too inaccurate. I don't like it. I've killed this way before when I had to, but those were rare occasions and I didn't like a one of them.
But hey, anything for the mission, right? Heero would have had this done by now. If I don't do this fast, I'm going to lose my chance because I'm not hiding too well. In-and-out mission, my ass.
I almost feel bad for the guy; he didn't know what hit him and he wouldn't figure it out until his life was long gone. A gruesome puddle of red oozed out from beneath him while I tactfully tried to ignore it. The fucking disk was tucked right in his belt. Kinda makes me wish I could have made some agreement with him or something.
This little disk doesn't seem to add up to the body laying on the ground.
[VI.] Thou shalt not commit adultery.
"Duo, come here."
"I'm tired. Jus' lemme sleep... lemme sleep a little." I tried so hard to block his voice out of my head. I didn't need it at the moment. All I really fucking needed was some good sleep. When was the last time I had slept? Gods be damned, but I had no recollection of that blissful foggy unaware, wrapped in the warmth of a blanket.
"Duo." His voice was a little panicked sounding, but fuck, I didn't really care at the moment. My head was buzzing too loud for me to even hear straight. I didn't really have much time to sleep, because in five hours I needed to be on my way out of here with only my buddy Deathscythe on my side.
"What?!" I knew I sounded whiny, but I already asked him to just let me sleep. I didn't care that he actually sounded _afraid_.
"I... want to be able to touch you. I've missed... being with you."
I didn't answer. I didn't want hands on me, not his right now. Not his.
But minutes later, hands assaulted me, and they most definitely belonged to him. I groaned, and not out of pleasure, trying to shake him off me and bury my face in the heavenly pillow I wanted to just encompass my entire being. He usually wasn't this aggressive when I asked him to leave me alone. I knew he must have been lonely. I just didn't fucking want to be touched.
I couldn't help wondering why I preferred Wufei's touch to his.
[VII.] Thou shalt not steal.
Useless. Completely fucking useless. I've been working on repairs for two days, but without the right parts, it's impossible to get Deathscythe to function at all. And believe me, he needs a lot of parts right now.
I have no fucking clue where I am, and just about everything in the cockpit is blown out. Hopeless. I have no means of communication whatsoever and no food... but hey, I've starved before. I can go without food, not without parts. Some fuel for myself might be useful, though, if I want any hope of my body functioning long enough to get some fuel for my machine.
Hey, when you've got nothing, you ain't got a thing to lose, right? Lucky for me I went down on the outskirts of a fairly productive city where the common pickpocket might go unnoticed.
Of course, the back streets of this place are as scummy as desired, and no one seems to care that I look half dead in my bedraggled state. Honestly, I've got to say a lot of these people look far worse off than I do, even with my torn up shirt and battered skin, my hair left dangling in some sort of half-braided mess; the stains on what remain of my clothing resemble some combination of oil and blood. Well, at least no one will mess with me when I look like I just killed someone. Heh, which is funny... 'cause that's what I do.
A pretty crowded fruit stand seems to be lying out here in the middle of nowhere, surprisingly, and I know whatever they're selling probably isn't any good and that I'd be smart to bypass it until I got into town, but my stomach just keeps telling me that this might be my only chance. It's not hard to pocket a nice sized apple when everyone else's hands are fluttering around in your way.
Gotta do what I gotta do, right?
[VIII.] Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.
I'm not really liking the way my head's throbbing; I think I might have a concussion and I can't see straight. My chest is definitely home to a few broken ribs. It's not pleasant, really, but there's really something else I have to do, and it doesn't involve letting myself die in this God damned cell. I don't just crap out on a mission, even if I'm not as goody-goody as Heero is.
Not even when OZ baddie-number-whatever flings the door open and holds me at gun point. What do you know, he doesn't look much older than me, and I can tell he's afraid. Heh, not so tough in the face of Death, are you?
"Gundam pilot," he sneers at me. Oh, watch me quiver, kid.
"Asshole," I shoot back, complete with a complimentary grin.
"You're pilot 02," he states, and I'm assuming it's a question. How can he focus, though, with his hand quivering like that?
They've been looking for me, I know, and damn I hate to lie, but I think I've got to right now. I just need a _little_ more time, a little... diversion.
"Sorry, pilot 02 would be the one you let get away. I'm 01, you know."
His six eyes-- er, no, that's the foggy brain talking-- stare back at me incredulously. I'd like to spit in one of them, but I can't even see clearly. Ah well. I've got him nervous. He caught the wrong guy, didn't he? Heh.
"What's your name?"
"Heero Yuy," I state boldly. Gotta love to watch 'em squirm.
"S-shit!" He hurls the door closed, and I have to hope his momentary lapse of sanity is enough to make him leave the door unbarred.
[IX.] Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.
It's not too often we get a nice place like this to call our little safe haven for as long as battle can leave us be. It's also not often that Heero, Wufei, and I are all camped out together; usually we're just paired up, or out on our own. We've got an actual place with a roof, two bedrooms, and electricity, and working utilities for the moment, care of this nice man that took to us right away. It's nice that nice men are nicely rich. This kitchen table's also nice, and so is the food that's on it.
The way Heero keeps shooting me possessive looks and nudging my foot with his isn't nice, though. Sure, I think I love him, and it's okay that he loves me and that he wants me. I just don't want him to want me in front of Wufei, who's strategically sitting on my right. This happens to be the same Wufei who is absolutely gorgeous when he sleeps; I got out of bed last night to watch him.
Wufei and I have spent a lot of time together. Hell, I know I'm young, but I sure don't feel like it. Maybe it's just hormones that tell me I love Heero and I lust after Wufei, but God, does it really matter? My life doesn't allow me to love.
And really, I don't want to admit to Heero that I think Wufei is gorgeous.
[X.] Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods.
The sun makes my skin tingle-- I mean, the _real_ sun, not that artificial light crap they call sun on the colonies. Yeah, there's a ton of stuff I probably should be doing right now like repairing the minor damages on Deathscythe from our last encounter with some of the baddies, or writing up my mission log, or waiting by my laptop for the next little command like a good little pawn, but I'm not going to right now. I like being a part of humanity when I have time, to be with people as they walk past, consumed in the errands of the day. War touches people all over, but it's obvious that the ones who aren't armed with mobile suits are content with turning the other cheek. There's no way they don't know what's going on around them, but ignorance is bliss, right?
Must be nice to be able to sit on a park bench like this every day, not worrying about dying tomorrow or the next time you'll get sleep, or food, or shelter. I don't know, maybe I'm jealous. Maybe I'm bitter. I just kind of feel like I'm missing out on something that I should be able to have. Granted, I'm not really supposed to have much; given my 'upbringing' and all, I never really had a lot. I sort of feel like someone owes me _something_, and maybe that something is peace. I have to fight for it to get it. Nothing's going to be handed right to me, I guess, and maybe that's how things should be. It's sort of hard to believe it, though, when I watch these people strolling along without a care, watching the children play with their brothers and sisters under their parents watchful eyes. I mean, what did they do for all this?
I guess I'm just unreasonably jealous, but why can't I deserve to live like this?
back to Kentra's fiction