Part Fourteen: The Guardians and The Past, Part Three
Wufei's Anguish, Trowa's Loss
Wufei went through the blood red door and entered a world of screaming, chaos and fire. Everywhere he looked was blood and flames. The familiar sight made him stiffen with pain and sorrow. It was the scene from his last night on L5, the night his people perished and his wife left him forever. The night he lost everything, and took up the sword in retaliation.
He stood in his old room, flames licking at the rice paper doors and consuming everything in its path. Screams could be heard outside, as the Great House of Chang fell to the hungry inferno. Wufei pushed through the door and out into the courtyard, the ruined gate burned to the ground and granting him a clear view of the village below.
His people ran to and fro, crying out in anguish as the world they knew fell before them. Mobile suits flew over L5, dropping more bombs and instruments of destruction, then coldly floating in the sky and viewing the insuing chaos. Wufei clenched his fists and tried to remind himself that it was just a memory. If he didn't, he would lose it and come out of the experience a few marbles short.
Regulating his breathing, he carefully made his way down the pathway to the village, passing people lying in the dirt, crying out to him to save them. He ignored them, trying not to break because of the pain all around him. Suddenly, a thought entered his head, loud and demanding. If this was a memory, was not his wife still here? Could he endure watching her die again?
"If only to see her," Wufei whispered to himself, then broke into a run, away from the village, away from his family's Great House, away from everything, and toward the field of flowers situated in the quietest part of the colony. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs ached. He stumbled and tripped, but kept going, if only to see his beloved's face one last time. "Meilan," he panted as he ran.
With a last burst of energy he sprinted over a pile of rubble, then tripped on a loose rock and fell several feet to the ground. He closed his eyes and just breathed, trying to regain his breath. The smell that filled his nostrils was sweet, too sweet to still be the ruined city. Wufei opened his eyes to flowers, a field full of sweet, untouched flowers. "She is here," he whispered, struggling to his feet. He stumbled toward the center of the field, all the while dusting off his clothes and wiping his face.
When he touched his face he noticed that he was wearing glasses. He frowned. That was strange. He hadn't worn glasses since the night that Meilan died. Surprise and understanding dawned on his face. He looked down at himself, seeing the rich red clothing he had worn as a child. He touched his hair and felt the loose strands. He touched his face and felt the wire spectacles his father had bought him. Shocked, Wufei froze and stared at his soft, uncallused hands. Hands that had never worked, never fought. Hands that only read, only studied.
A sound drew him away from his contemplation and he looked up...to see what he had been seeking. There she lay, her dark hair pulled up into the two pigtails he'd always thought ridiculous, flight suit splattered with blood, eyes wide as she stared at the artificial sky. Long Meilan, daughter of Long Zi-Ling. His wife. Nataku.
Mouth closed tight against any weak cry he could make, Wufei fell to his knees beside his dying wife, replaying the scene he had lived through once. Here she was again, Nataku, ready to breath her last.
Those blood red lips parted, and sound issued. "W-Wufei, is that you?" she gasped, pain evident in her soft brown eyes.
"Yes, Nataku," Wufei whispered, reaching out and grasping one of her pale hands. "It is your honored husband."
"Heh," she chuckled, before coughing violently. "You and y-your formalities, you w-weak fool." She coughed again. "You are not h-honored with such a w-weak wife."
"No! You are not weak, Nataku. That is why you were named after the Great Prince who saved our people. You are a warrior," Wufei said firmly, tightening his hold on her hand.
Meilan smiled ruefully, moving a hand as if to brush away some of his loose hair. "That stupid s-sissy hair style," she said. "Those dumb glasses. Where is y-your sword? Where is my warrior?"
"I am here, Nataku. I have taken up the sword to avenge you!" Wufei cried.
"A-avenge me? But I am not dead yet, scholar. And you have not taken a sword," she whispered. "I can still feel the baby softness of your hands." Meilan coughed loudly and wheezed, blood spurting from her lips to dot her flight suit further.
"But, Nataku," Wufei whispered. "You died. I saw you. And I know how to handle a sword. I can show you if only you'll live." A pleading tone entered his voice, and Wufei was too distraught to care.
Meilan lifted one hand and reached up, almost brushing a lock of Wufei's feather light hair. "M-my husband," she gasped, blood bubbling up again. "I am w-weak. I am unw-worthy...."
"No!" Wufei cried, reaching up to grasp the hand touching his hair. Before he could, the hand fell back to the ground and Meilan drew her last breath. "S-sissy h-hair..." she breathed, before going limp. "No! Noooooooo!" Wufei screamed. ^Why, God, why do you subject me to this pain again?! What have I done? Tell me!^
^Enough, Master^ barked a familiar voice. A burst of flame erupted beside Wufei and when it subsided, a firedrake floated in the air. ^Master must accept his past, or he will not know the truth^
^What truth, lizard^ Wufei snapped, completely forgetting who he was speaking to. ^The only truth I know is lying here before me, felled by that OZ scum^
^That is not truth^ the firedrake said. ^Truth is the world Master left behind to view this once more. This One is here to show Master why This One was selected to protect Master^
^I don't understand^ Wufei whispered.
^Look around Master. It is obvious to This One what made Master who he is today. Does Master not see?^
Wufei paused, and actually took the time to look around him. He saw the distant smoke of the village, MS flying overhead, and the field of flowers he sat in. All of it hit him like a rock. This was why he needed Akha- banakh, his Guardian, and the dragon idol of his family. To help him get through his grief and gain revenge on his people. ^I understand^ Wufei said.
^This One was released to watch over Master, and ensure Master the most happiness possible. This One hid in the shadows until the right time. Now Master knows enough to go on without the grief^ Akha-banakh said. Wufei nodded. He did know enough now. It all came back to him, why he was in this memory, and what waited on the other side of the red door.
^I see, and I am ready to face my past and return to my family^ he whispered. Akha nodded, and spouted flame into Wufei's face. He cried out and fell backward...and kept falling until he hit the grassy ground beside the blue rock he'd sat on. Four anxious faces looked down on him, and he smiled. ^My family^ he whispered.
***
Wufei awoke to the four other pilots fussing over him, even Heero looking mildly worried. Brushing them off, Wufei stood and bowed to Akha, who nodded back.
"Well, what happened?" Duo demanded. Quatre and Trowa nodded, also curious. Heero simply looked at him expectantly.
"Later, my friends. We haven't much time before lunch and the rest of you still have to go through the doors," Wufei said. "Who's next?"
Confused by the usually stoic boy's joviality, the pilots just stared at each other until Heavyarm's pilot stood and nodded. "I will go," Trowa said, moving toward the green door. Quatre immediately hurried over to his fiance and wrapped him in a hug. Giving Trowa a big kiss, he said nothing, his eyes conveying anything he could wish to say. Trowa nodded and walked through the green door.
Trowa stepped from the Room of Requirement into a thick European rainforest, complete with foliage and animal life. Water rolled slowly down large leaves as monkeys and other animals made a racket over head. The laughter of a small child could be heard in the distance. Following the sound, Trowa entered a small clearing.
Before him was a little house with traditional porch and rocking chair, picturesque in such a setting. A small pond was near the entrance to the house, and two children played there. One was a little girl of about six. She had reddish brown hair and clear blue eyes. Her little yellow sundress was hiked up around her thighs as she waded into the water to retrieve something.
Sitting on the grass with a building block clutched in his hand was a little boy of maybe one and one half. He shared the same hair color as the girl, but his eyes were a startling jade color. The toddler's hair hung over his face, as if he had too much hair for someone that age. Trowa gasped. The little boy was him.
The girl reached into the water and pulled out a little golden ball, then waded back onto the shore and headed over to the little boy. She handed the boy the ball, and the building block was forgotten as little Trowa giggled and played with his favorite toy.
"Catherine Salasia Bloom, how many times must I tell you not to wade into the water for things? Triton can retrieve them himself. If you don't let him, he will never learn!" said a firm older voice. A woman walked out of the front door of the house and onto the porch, paused to scold Catherine, then continued to the shore of the lake and the little boy. Trowa stared at the scene, the woman's words flowing through his head. Cathy's my sister?!
The woman was pretty, with hair the exact shade of Trowa's, and eyes like Catherine's. Trowa suspected the woman was his mother, and he most likely got his eyes from his father. "I'm sorry, Mommy, but he dropped the ball in the lake and I couldn't leave it," Catherine said, big blue eyes apologetic.
The woman bent down and picked up Triton, who waved his hands happily and immediately latched onto a long lock of the woman's hair. The woman laughed as Triton giggled. "Mommy, Mommy, watch me go boom!" Triton giggled. The woman looked alarmed and put the boy down quickly. A split second later he exploded in a cloud of dust, and when the dust cleared, a lion cub lay in his place. The woman looked mildly annoyed, but proud.
"Oh Triton, what have I told you about changing randomly like that?" she sighed, moving to pick her son up again. Right when her hands touched him he changed back into his human form, and giggled. The woman sighed again and picked him up. "And what have I told you about making your sister get you things? You know she can't resist you, and she loves you too much to try."
Triton went from happy and giggle to sad and solemn too quickly to catch. Big tears welled in his green eyes. "I'm sowwy Mommy. I won't do it again. I pwomise."
"Alright, baby. I trust you. Now come inside, it's time for breakfast," the woman said. She reached out to take Catherine's hand and head into the house. But before she could even touch the little girl's fingers, a huge blast exploded from the house, throwing the small family back as far as the road. Catherine was thrown to the left side of the road, and Triton and his mother were on the right, separated. Smoke filled the air so thick they couldn't see each other, and Triton immediately started crying.
"Triton? Triton where are you?!" the woman cried frantically.
"Mommy, Mommy!" Catherine cried, screaming in fear when another blast shook the house. The woman choked down tears. Her husband had been in that house.
"I'm coming, baby, I just have to find your brother," the woman soothed. Triton's high pitched crying could be heard above the crackling of flames. "Triton, honey, come find Mommy!" she cried.
"I heard somethin'!" a deep voice said. The woman froze in fright, desperate to reach her children but scared for herself as well. "It came from the house we bombed, Carlos!"
"Do ya think someone lives there?" asked another voice.
"I dunno, Joey. It didn't say in the paper. Just blow it up, it said. I think I hear cryin' though. Let's check it out," said the first voice.
"Hey Joey, I found a little girl. What we gunna do wit' 'er?" asked another voice.
"Take 'er to the shelter, Adam. We can't have no little kids troublin' us. If you see anyone else, kill 'em."
"Sir, yes, sir," said the group of men. From what the woman could hear, they began making a sweep of the area. Please don't find my Triton, she prayed. Suddenly, some of the smoke cleared to reveal a big man with stubble on his face, old army issue fatigues, and a large machine gun.
"Whadda we have here?" he said, looking at her. "Hey Joey, I found a chick!" he called.
"Kill 'er and let's go!" Joey called back.
"Right-o, sir!" the man called back. He lifted his gun, leveled it at the woman, and...
"No!" Trowa cried, leaping at the man about to murder his mother. The man turned surprised eyes on Trowa, and fired without a second thought. The bullet slammed into Trowa, slowing his momentum until he hit the ground directly beside his mother. She looked up to stare at him in surprise and confusion, most likely unbalanced by his strong resemblance to her baby boy.
'I thought this was supposed to be a memory?' Trowa wondered, the pain in his chest causing his view to go in and out of focus. 'Why do I feel pain?'
"Lil' brat! Jumpin' in front of a bullet. Hmph. Ain't never seen anythin' like it," the man grumbled. "And all for nothin', too." He aimed the gun at the woman again, this time not hesitating to pull the trigger. A loud shot rang out, and a cry left the woman. Trowa closed his eyes against the pain of it, choking back tears. Another shot rang out, slamming into his mother again.
Grumbling about annoying people, the man aimed his gun at Trowa. "Yer the last one, brat. See ya in the skies." And the man shot Trowa in the heart.
Trowa sat straight up, sweat rolling down his forehead. He lifted a hand to wipe his brow after the nightmare, and froze. The hand he lifted was small, no bigger than a ten year old's. Trowa looked down at himself. He was lying on a small mat with a thin blanket, wearing oversized army fatigues from ten years ago. Just like he had when he'd spent time with the mercenaries.
He glanced around the room, taking in the sparcity of windows, and the dozens of other similar beds containing grown men. He was back at the mercenary encampment of his youth. And he was in his ten year old body.
Before he could even think about it anymore, cries of alarm and anger sounded from outside, followed by an explosion. The call to arms sounded, and men rolled out of their beds, slipped on their boots, and dashed outside to their MS. Trowa did the same, stumbling through the rubble toward his standard issue repaired Taurus.
"Get goin', Nanashi! Enemies on the east side, destroyed the weapons depot already!" cried one of the mercenaries. Trowa just nodded like he used to do, when he'd been the lowest yet most talented mercenary in the group. His age had always hindered him when it came to promotions based on skill and things like that.
Trowa hopped into the Taurus and powered it up, but before he could take off, a blast rocked the MS and threw him from it. Every mercenary was thrown left and right, many dying when they made contact with the ground. Trowa rolled to his feet and looked around him, spotting the Leos currently slaughtering the only family he knew. He noticed a blond girl standing to the side, clutching her arm.
"Who're you?" he asked quietly, pulling out one of his repaired guns. The girl flinched, then stepped forward.
"My name is Midii Une," she said, her long blond hair blowing in the wind kicked up by the thrusters of the MS flying overhead. Trowa remembered her. The last person he'd seen before everyone died. "You have to remember, this is just the past."
"What?" Trowa said, visible eye going wide. Before he could question the girl, another missile exploded, throwing them away from each other. Trowa tried to stand but was thrown down by another blast of air, this time hitting his head on the pavement and rolling under a supply truck. As everything went dark, Trowa could have sworn he saw a pair of golden brown wings.
***
"Well, I'm done. Lunch will be in about ten minutes. Anyone up for a walk around the castle til then?" Harry asked, closing his Potions textbook. He'd finally finished his studying, even gaining approval from Hermione. It was time to take a much needed break before lunch.
"I've got to go to the Tower to get my Potions scroll with my notes, so I can't," Hermione said, stuffing the books she'd been using in her satchel.
"I've got to brush my hair. It's hard keeping up with Draco, you know," Blaise said, grinning. The group laughed.
Draco looked up almost hopefully at Harry. "I haven't anything pressing to do at the moment. Do you mind the company?" he asked.
"Not at all," Harry answered, blushing slightly. He turned away and began packing his things. Once he and Draco were done, they left the other two to go about their business. Blaise said something softly to Hermione and she giggled.
"Looks like those two are really getting along," Draco said.
"Yeah. I think Hermione might like him," Harry said. They headed down the stairs toward the Entrance Hall, then left the castle through a small side door. They moved out onto the grounds and immediately headed for the lake. Draco led the way, heading toward the side directly opposite and farthest away from the school. They walked at a slow pace, uncomfortable tension surrounding them.
"I wanted to say--"
"I'm sorry about--"
Both boys froze when their words overlapped each others, then laughed. "You first," Harry said, his usual Gryffindor self.
"No, you. I interrupted you and that is inexcusable," Draco said.
"I don't mind. Go ahead," Harry countered.
"I insist," Draco snapped. They glared at each other, then laughed again. "Can you believe it has only been a few months since we used to argue about much more serious things?" he said. "I would never have imagined we would be out by the lake, trying to force each other to speak first. I must admit, it is a new experience."
"Yeah, for me too. I used to hate you with a passion. Now that I think back on it, I can't really come up with a reason why," Harry said, sounding slightly confused. "Makes you wonder why we fought in the first place."
"Well, my reason was pretty simple," Draco said. "I believed that anything I wanted, I deserved to get, and that included your friendship. As many know, I was a little prick when I was younger." He ran a hand through his silky hair. "Since you refused to be associated with someone as divine as I, my defence mechanism kicked in and I replaced my desire with hate."
"In other words, you were pissed because you didn't get what you wanted," Harry said, laughing. "I pinned you as such the moment you opened your mouth. When we were in the robe shoppe, all I heard was the arrogant tone you used when speaking of anything non-Slytherin. That was the fastest way to put me off, I have to admit."
Draco laughed, rubbing the back of his head in embarassment. "Well, as I said, I was a little prick. But ever since I began speaking with Hermione, that side of me has faded away. She helped me get over the fact that my father was in Azkaban and that my mother was a Death Eater at large." A soft smile replaced the wide grin. "I'd have to say that if she wasn't my best friend, and I didn't play for the other team, there might have been something there."
As Draco spoke, Harry watched him, watched the way his hands moved around him to emphasize everything he said, and the way he smiled wider and talked easier the longer they were outside. Harry knew that lunch had most likely already started, but he couldn't bring himself to stop Draco from enjoying himself. It seemed like something the blond didn't do much. But what really caught Harry's attention was the last thing Draco had said. Something about playing for the other team?
"What do you mean, you play for the other team?" Harry asked, though he had a pretty good idea. But it was almost too good to be true. Sure Draco flirted, but nothing serious enough to warrant the belief that he was anything but straight.
Draco blushed, dropping his hands and stopping where he was. "Uh, um, it means I...uh..it means.."
"What? What does it mean?" Harry asked, slightly demanding. He knew it wasn't fair. He was pushing the Slytherin, but if the answer was what he thought it was, his day would be made a thousand times over.
"Well, what I mean to say is..." Draco began, looking down, his face going an unhealthy shade of red. "I...I'm gay."
Halelullah! There is a God!
"I hope this doesn't change anything between us. We've only been on civil terms for a little while and I don't want something like this to get in the way. I really am sorry about all the things I did and--"
"Malfoy!" Harry interrupted, silencing the blond. "This doesn't change anything, and you don't have to apologize. We gave as good as we got. Remember that." At this point Harry smiled, a brilliant, vibrant thing that would have blinded a lesser man. Lucky for Draco he was made of sturner stuff. "In fact, I'm glad we play for the same team."
What was said hadn't really registered with Draco yet. He was still floored by the easy acceptance he'd recieved from his former rival. But when the words registered, he almost couldn't contain his gasp of surprise. "You're gay?" he said, a hint of shock evident in his voice. Harry nodded, and Draco looked thoughtful. It kind of made sense. When had he seen Harry with anyone but Cho? And even then that hadn't lasted long.
"So that whole thing with Cho Chang--" he began.
"Was a mistake," Harry interrupted. "She was on a grief trip so long she could start a travel agency, and she wanted someone to cry all over and talk about her dead boyfriend with. Her mistake was picking the one guy everyone believed had killed him."
"You mean she cried on your date?" Draco asked, surprised. No one in Slytherin would be so uncouthed to do such a thing. It simply wasn't done. If you had problems, take it out on your Pensieve and leave the rest of the world alone.
"Like a waterfall. We were at Madam Puddifoot's, and I guess she got the urge to water down her tea," Harry said with a short laugh. "She yelled at me for not wanting to talk about Cedric on our date, and called me an insensitive jerk."
"Must have broken her heart," Draco drawled.
"I'm sure," Harry snorted. "Since I'm gay, there isn't much chance of making that mistake again. Guys are much easier to deal with, and only the extremely feminine ones cry like the world is ending. Life is considerably easier this way." Harry smiled at Draco, a look in his eyes that made something in the Slytherin melt. "Now I can appreciate the beauty in anything."
The pair stared into each other's eyes for a moment, emerald green meeting steel grey, looking deep into the other's soul. Time seemed to stand still, and they gravitated toward each other, moving closer one solitary inch at a time. They were mere centimeters from each other when an eagle swooped down between them, breaking them apart. The spell was broken. Shrugging, the two continued on, talking of their likes and dislikes, and catching up on a friendship that should have happened years ago.
From a tree in the Forbidden Forest, and eagle animagus seethed.
***Tsuzuku or TBC***
I know the ending was a bit confusing and weird, but that was how it came out. If you don't like it, I apologize. *bows* I'll try to do better.
Miaka
P.S. Remember, loves, fanart for this fic is beyond welcome!! ^_^
Wufei's Anguish, Trowa's Loss
Wufei went through the blood red door and entered a world of screaming, chaos and fire. Everywhere he looked was blood and flames. The familiar sight made him stiffen with pain and sorrow. It was the scene from his last night on L5, the night his people perished and his wife left him forever. The night he lost everything, and took up the sword in retaliation.
He stood in his old room, flames licking at the rice paper doors and consuming everything in its path. Screams could be heard outside, as the Great House of Chang fell to the hungry inferno. Wufei pushed through the door and out into the courtyard, the ruined gate burned to the ground and granting him a clear view of the village below.
His people ran to and fro, crying out in anguish as the world they knew fell before them. Mobile suits flew over L5, dropping more bombs and instruments of destruction, then coldly floating in the sky and viewing the insuing chaos. Wufei clenched his fists and tried to remind himself that it was just a memory. If he didn't, he would lose it and come out of the experience a few marbles short.
Regulating his breathing, he carefully made his way down the pathway to the village, passing people lying in the dirt, crying out to him to save them. He ignored them, trying not to break because of the pain all around him. Suddenly, a thought entered his head, loud and demanding. If this was a memory, was not his wife still here? Could he endure watching her die again?
"If only to see her," Wufei whispered to himself, then broke into a run, away from the village, away from his family's Great House, away from everything, and toward the field of flowers situated in the quietest part of the colony. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs ached. He stumbled and tripped, but kept going, if only to see his beloved's face one last time. "Meilan," he panted as he ran.
With a last burst of energy he sprinted over a pile of rubble, then tripped on a loose rock and fell several feet to the ground. He closed his eyes and just breathed, trying to regain his breath. The smell that filled his nostrils was sweet, too sweet to still be the ruined city. Wufei opened his eyes to flowers, a field full of sweet, untouched flowers. "She is here," he whispered, struggling to his feet. He stumbled toward the center of the field, all the while dusting off his clothes and wiping his face.
When he touched his face he noticed that he was wearing glasses. He frowned. That was strange. He hadn't worn glasses since the night that Meilan died. Surprise and understanding dawned on his face. He looked down at himself, seeing the rich red clothing he had worn as a child. He touched his hair and felt the loose strands. He touched his face and felt the wire spectacles his father had bought him. Shocked, Wufei froze and stared at his soft, uncallused hands. Hands that had never worked, never fought. Hands that only read, only studied.
A sound drew him away from his contemplation and he looked up...to see what he had been seeking. There she lay, her dark hair pulled up into the two pigtails he'd always thought ridiculous, flight suit splattered with blood, eyes wide as she stared at the artificial sky. Long Meilan, daughter of Long Zi-Ling. His wife. Nataku.
Mouth closed tight against any weak cry he could make, Wufei fell to his knees beside his dying wife, replaying the scene he had lived through once. Here she was again, Nataku, ready to breath her last.
Those blood red lips parted, and sound issued. "W-Wufei, is that you?" she gasped, pain evident in her soft brown eyes.
"Yes, Nataku," Wufei whispered, reaching out and grasping one of her pale hands. "It is your honored husband."
"Heh," she chuckled, before coughing violently. "You and y-your formalities, you w-weak fool." She coughed again. "You are not h-honored with such a w-weak wife."
"No! You are not weak, Nataku. That is why you were named after the Great Prince who saved our people. You are a warrior," Wufei said firmly, tightening his hold on her hand.
Meilan smiled ruefully, moving a hand as if to brush away some of his loose hair. "That stupid s-sissy hair style," she said. "Those dumb glasses. Where is y-your sword? Where is my warrior?"
"I am here, Nataku. I have taken up the sword to avenge you!" Wufei cried.
"A-avenge me? But I am not dead yet, scholar. And you have not taken a sword," she whispered. "I can still feel the baby softness of your hands." Meilan coughed loudly and wheezed, blood spurting from her lips to dot her flight suit further.
"But, Nataku," Wufei whispered. "You died. I saw you. And I know how to handle a sword. I can show you if only you'll live." A pleading tone entered his voice, and Wufei was too distraught to care.
Meilan lifted one hand and reached up, almost brushing a lock of Wufei's feather light hair. "M-my husband," she gasped, blood bubbling up again. "I am w-weak. I am unw-worthy...."
"No!" Wufei cried, reaching up to grasp the hand touching his hair. Before he could, the hand fell back to the ground and Meilan drew her last breath. "S-sissy h-hair..." she breathed, before going limp. "No! Noooooooo!" Wufei screamed. ^Why, God, why do you subject me to this pain again?! What have I done? Tell me!^
^Enough, Master^ barked a familiar voice. A burst of flame erupted beside Wufei and when it subsided, a firedrake floated in the air. ^Master must accept his past, or he will not know the truth^
^What truth, lizard^ Wufei snapped, completely forgetting who he was speaking to. ^The only truth I know is lying here before me, felled by that OZ scum^
^That is not truth^ the firedrake said. ^Truth is the world Master left behind to view this once more. This One is here to show Master why This One was selected to protect Master^
^I don't understand^ Wufei whispered.
^Look around Master. It is obvious to This One what made Master who he is today. Does Master not see?^
Wufei paused, and actually took the time to look around him. He saw the distant smoke of the village, MS flying overhead, and the field of flowers he sat in. All of it hit him like a rock. This was why he needed Akha- banakh, his Guardian, and the dragon idol of his family. To help him get through his grief and gain revenge on his people. ^I understand^ Wufei said.
^This One was released to watch over Master, and ensure Master the most happiness possible. This One hid in the shadows until the right time. Now Master knows enough to go on without the grief^ Akha-banakh said. Wufei nodded. He did know enough now. It all came back to him, why he was in this memory, and what waited on the other side of the red door.
^I see, and I am ready to face my past and return to my family^ he whispered. Akha nodded, and spouted flame into Wufei's face. He cried out and fell backward...and kept falling until he hit the grassy ground beside the blue rock he'd sat on. Four anxious faces looked down on him, and he smiled. ^My family^ he whispered.
***
Wufei awoke to the four other pilots fussing over him, even Heero looking mildly worried. Brushing them off, Wufei stood and bowed to Akha, who nodded back.
"Well, what happened?" Duo demanded. Quatre and Trowa nodded, also curious. Heero simply looked at him expectantly.
"Later, my friends. We haven't much time before lunch and the rest of you still have to go through the doors," Wufei said. "Who's next?"
Confused by the usually stoic boy's joviality, the pilots just stared at each other until Heavyarm's pilot stood and nodded. "I will go," Trowa said, moving toward the green door. Quatre immediately hurried over to his fiance and wrapped him in a hug. Giving Trowa a big kiss, he said nothing, his eyes conveying anything he could wish to say. Trowa nodded and walked through the green door.
Trowa stepped from the Room of Requirement into a thick European rainforest, complete with foliage and animal life. Water rolled slowly down large leaves as monkeys and other animals made a racket over head. The laughter of a small child could be heard in the distance. Following the sound, Trowa entered a small clearing.
Before him was a little house with traditional porch and rocking chair, picturesque in such a setting. A small pond was near the entrance to the house, and two children played there. One was a little girl of about six. She had reddish brown hair and clear blue eyes. Her little yellow sundress was hiked up around her thighs as she waded into the water to retrieve something.
Sitting on the grass with a building block clutched in his hand was a little boy of maybe one and one half. He shared the same hair color as the girl, but his eyes were a startling jade color. The toddler's hair hung over his face, as if he had too much hair for someone that age. Trowa gasped. The little boy was him.
The girl reached into the water and pulled out a little golden ball, then waded back onto the shore and headed over to the little boy. She handed the boy the ball, and the building block was forgotten as little Trowa giggled and played with his favorite toy.
"Catherine Salasia Bloom, how many times must I tell you not to wade into the water for things? Triton can retrieve them himself. If you don't let him, he will never learn!" said a firm older voice. A woman walked out of the front door of the house and onto the porch, paused to scold Catherine, then continued to the shore of the lake and the little boy. Trowa stared at the scene, the woman's words flowing through his head. Cathy's my sister?!
The woman was pretty, with hair the exact shade of Trowa's, and eyes like Catherine's. Trowa suspected the woman was his mother, and he most likely got his eyes from his father. "I'm sorry, Mommy, but he dropped the ball in the lake and I couldn't leave it," Catherine said, big blue eyes apologetic.
The woman bent down and picked up Triton, who waved his hands happily and immediately latched onto a long lock of the woman's hair. The woman laughed as Triton giggled. "Mommy, Mommy, watch me go boom!" Triton giggled. The woman looked alarmed and put the boy down quickly. A split second later he exploded in a cloud of dust, and when the dust cleared, a lion cub lay in his place. The woman looked mildly annoyed, but proud.
"Oh Triton, what have I told you about changing randomly like that?" she sighed, moving to pick her son up again. Right when her hands touched him he changed back into his human form, and giggled. The woman sighed again and picked him up. "And what have I told you about making your sister get you things? You know she can't resist you, and she loves you too much to try."
Triton went from happy and giggle to sad and solemn too quickly to catch. Big tears welled in his green eyes. "I'm sowwy Mommy. I won't do it again. I pwomise."
"Alright, baby. I trust you. Now come inside, it's time for breakfast," the woman said. She reached out to take Catherine's hand and head into the house. But before she could even touch the little girl's fingers, a huge blast exploded from the house, throwing the small family back as far as the road. Catherine was thrown to the left side of the road, and Triton and his mother were on the right, separated. Smoke filled the air so thick they couldn't see each other, and Triton immediately started crying.
"Triton? Triton where are you?!" the woman cried frantically.
"Mommy, Mommy!" Catherine cried, screaming in fear when another blast shook the house. The woman choked down tears. Her husband had been in that house.
"I'm coming, baby, I just have to find your brother," the woman soothed. Triton's high pitched crying could be heard above the crackling of flames. "Triton, honey, come find Mommy!" she cried.
"I heard somethin'!" a deep voice said. The woman froze in fright, desperate to reach her children but scared for herself as well. "It came from the house we bombed, Carlos!"
"Do ya think someone lives there?" asked another voice.
"I dunno, Joey. It didn't say in the paper. Just blow it up, it said. I think I hear cryin' though. Let's check it out," said the first voice.
"Hey Joey, I found a little girl. What we gunna do wit' 'er?" asked another voice.
"Take 'er to the shelter, Adam. We can't have no little kids troublin' us. If you see anyone else, kill 'em."
"Sir, yes, sir," said the group of men. From what the woman could hear, they began making a sweep of the area. Please don't find my Triton, she prayed. Suddenly, some of the smoke cleared to reveal a big man with stubble on his face, old army issue fatigues, and a large machine gun.
"Whadda we have here?" he said, looking at her. "Hey Joey, I found a chick!" he called.
"Kill 'er and let's go!" Joey called back.
"Right-o, sir!" the man called back. He lifted his gun, leveled it at the woman, and...
"No!" Trowa cried, leaping at the man about to murder his mother. The man turned surprised eyes on Trowa, and fired without a second thought. The bullet slammed into Trowa, slowing his momentum until he hit the ground directly beside his mother. She looked up to stare at him in surprise and confusion, most likely unbalanced by his strong resemblance to her baby boy.
'I thought this was supposed to be a memory?' Trowa wondered, the pain in his chest causing his view to go in and out of focus. 'Why do I feel pain?'
"Lil' brat! Jumpin' in front of a bullet. Hmph. Ain't never seen anythin' like it," the man grumbled. "And all for nothin', too." He aimed the gun at the woman again, this time not hesitating to pull the trigger. A loud shot rang out, and a cry left the woman. Trowa closed his eyes against the pain of it, choking back tears. Another shot rang out, slamming into his mother again.
Grumbling about annoying people, the man aimed his gun at Trowa. "Yer the last one, brat. See ya in the skies." And the man shot Trowa in the heart.
Trowa sat straight up, sweat rolling down his forehead. He lifted a hand to wipe his brow after the nightmare, and froze. The hand he lifted was small, no bigger than a ten year old's. Trowa looked down at himself. He was lying on a small mat with a thin blanket, wearing oversized army fatigues from ten years ago. Just like he had when he'd spent time with the mercenaries.
He glanced around the room, taking in the sparcity of windows, and the dozens of other similar beds containing grown men. He was back at the mercenary encampment of his youth. And he was in his ten year old body.
Before he could even think about it anymore, cries of alarm and anger sounded from outside, followed by an explosion. The call to arms sounded, and men rolled out of their beds, slipped on their boots, and dashed outside to their MS. Trowa did the same, stumbling through the rubble toward his standard issue repaired Taurus.
"Get goin', Nanashi! Enemies on the east side, destroyed the weapons depot already!" cried one of the mercenaries. Trowa just nodded like he used to do, when he'd been the lowest yet most talented mercenary in the group. His age had always hindered him when it came to promotions based on skill and things like that.
Trowa hopped into the Taurus and powered it up, but before he could take off, a blast rocked the MS and threw him from it. Every mercenary was thrown left and right, many dying when they made contact with the ground. Trowa rolled to his feet and looked around him, spotting the Leos currently slaughtering the only family he knew. He noticed a blond girl standing to the side, clutching her arm.
"Who're you?" he asked quietly, pulling out one of his repaired guns. The girl flinched, then stepped forward.
"My name is Midii Une," she said, her long blond hair blowing in the wind kicked up by the thrusters of the MS flying overhead. Trowa remembered her. The last person he'd seen before everyone died. "You have to remember, this is just the past."
"What?" Trowa said, visible eye going wide. Before he could question the girl, another missile exploded, throwing them away from each other. Trowa tried to stand but was thrown down by another blast of air, this time hitting his head on the pavement and rolling under a supply truck. As everything went dark, Trowa could have sworn he saw a pair of golden brown wings.
***
"Well, I'm done. Lunch will be in about ten minutes. Anyone up for a walk around the castle til then?" Harry asked, closing his Potions textbook. He'd finally finished his studying, even gaining approval from Hermione. It was time to take a much needed break before lunch.
"I've got to go to the Tower to get my Potions scroll with my notes, so I can't," Hermione said, stuffing the books she'd been using in her satchel.
"I've got to brush my hair. It's hard keeping up with Draco, you know," Blaise said, grinning. The group laughed.
Draco looked up almost hopefully at Harry. "I haven't anything pressing to do at the moment. Do you mind the company?" he asked.
"Not at all," Harry answered, blushing slightly. He turned away and began packing his things. Once he and Draco were done, they left the other two to go about their business. Blaise said something softly to Hermione and she giggled.
"Looks like those two are really getting along," Draco said.
"Yeah. I think Hermione might like him," Harry said. They headed down the stairs toward the Entrance Hall, then left the castle through a small side door. They moved out onto the grounds and immediately headed for the lake. Draco led the way, heading toward the side directly opposite and farthest away from the school. They walked at a slow pace, uncomfortable tension surrounding them.
"I wanted to say--"
"I'm sorry about--"
Both boys froze when their words overlapped each others, then laughed. "You first," Harry said, his usual Gryffindor self.
"No, you. I interrupted you and that is inexcusable," Draco said.
"I don't mind. Go ahead," Harry countered.
"I insist," Draco snapped. They glared at each other, then laughed again. "Can you believe it has only been a few months since we used to argue about much more serious things?" he said. "I would never have imagined we would be out by the lake, trying to force each other to speak first. I must admit, it is a new experience."
"Yeah, for me too. I used to hate you with a passion. Now that I think back on it, I can't really come up with a reason why," Harry said, sounding slightly confused. "Makes you wonder why we fought in the first place."
"Well, my reason was pretty simple," Draco said. "I believed that anything I wanted, I deserved to get, and that included your friendship. As many know, I was a little prick when I was younger." He ran a hand through his silky hair. "Since you refused to be associated with someone as divine as I, my defence mechanism kicked in and I replaced my desire with hate."
"In other words, you were pissed because you didn't get what you wanted," Harry said, laughing. "I pinned you as such the moment you opened your mouth. When we were in the robe shoppe, all I heard was the arrogant tone you used when speaking of anything non-Slytherin. That was the fastest way to put me off, I have to admit."
Draco laughed, rubbing the back of his head in embarassment. "Well, as I said, I was a little prick. But ever since I began speaking with Hermione, that side of me has faded away. She helped me get over the fact that my father was in Azkaban and that my mother was a Death Eater at large." A soft smile replaced the wide grin. "I'd have to say that if she wasn't my best friend, and I didn't play for the other team, there might have been something there."
As Draco spoke, Harry watched him, watched the way his hands moved around him to emphasize everything he said, and the way he smiled wider and talked easier the longer they were outside. Harry knew that lunch had most likely already started, but he couldn't bring himself to stop Draco from enjoying himself. It seemed like something the blond didn't do much. But what really caught Harry's attention was the last thing Draco had said. Something about playing for the other team?
"What do you mean, you play for the other team?" Harry asked, though he had a pretty good idea. But it was almost too good to be true. Sure Draco flirted, but nothing serious enough to warrant the belief that he was anything but straight.
Draco blushed, dropping his hands and stopping where he was. "Uh, um, it means I...uh..it means.."
"What? What does it mean?" Harry asked, slightly demanding. He knew it wasn't fair. He was pushing the Slytherin, but if the answer was what he thought it was, his day would be made a thousand times over.
"Well, what I mean to say is..." Draco began, looking down, his face going an unhealthy shade of red. "I...I'm gay."
Halelullah! There is a God!
"I hope this doesn't change anything between us. We've only been on civil terms for a little while and I don't want something like this to get in the way. I really am sorry about all the things I did and--"
"Malfoy!" Harry interrupted, silencing the blond. "This doesn't change anything, and you don't have to apologize. We gave as good as we got. Remember that." At this point Harry smiled, a brilliant, vibrant thing that would have blinded a lesser man. Lucky for Draco he was made of sturner stuff. "In fact, I'm glad we play for the same team."
What was said hadn't really registered with Draco yet. He was still floored by the easy acceptance he'd recieved from his former rival. But when the words registered, he almost couldn't contain his gasp of surprise. "You're gay?" he said, a hint of shock evident in his voice. Harry nodded, and Draco looked thoughtful. It kind of made sense. When had he seen Harry with anyone but Cho? And even then that hadn't lasted long.
"So that whole thing with Cho Chang--" he began.
"Was a mistake," Harry interrupted. "She was on a grief trip so long she could start a travel agency, and she wanted someone to cry all over and talk about her dead boyfriend with. Her mistake was picking the one guy everyone believed had killed him."
"You mean she cried on your date?" Draco asked, surprised. No one in Slytherin would be so uncouthed to do such a thing. It simply wasn't done. If you had problems, take it out on your Pensieve and leave the rest of the world alone.
"Like a waterfall. We were at Madam Puddifoot's, and I guess she got the urge to water down her tea," Harry said with a short laugh. "She yelled at me for not wanting to talk about Cedric on our date, and called me an insensitive jerk."
"Must have broken her heart," Draco drawled.
"I'm sure," Harry snorted. "Since I'm gay, there isn't much chance of making that mistake again. Guys are much easier to deal with, and only the extremely feminine ones cry like the world is ending. Life is considerably easier this way." Harry smiled at Draco, a look in his eyes that made something in the Slytherin melt. "Now I can appreciate the beauty in anything."
The pair stared into each other's eyes for a moment, emerald green meeting steel grey, looking deep into the other's soul. Time seemed to stand still, and they gravitated toward each other, moving closer one solitary inch at a time. They were mere centimeters from each other when an eagle swooped down between them, breaking them apart. The spell was broken. Shrugging, the two continued on, talking of their likes and dislikes, and catching up on a friendship that should have happened years ago.
From a tree in the Forbidden Forest, and eagle animagus seethed.
***Tsuzuku or TBC***
I know the ending was a bit confusing and weird, but that was how it came out. If you don't like it, I apologize. *bows* I'll try to do better.
Miaka
P.S. Remember, loves, fanart for this fic is beyond welcome!! ^_^