TITLE: Returning
AUTHOR: Tari Gwaemir
PAIRINGS: 16; implied 613/136, 513, 34/43, 21
SUMMARY: A 16/61 romance against the backdrop of political conspiracy
DISCLAIMER: Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me, but is owned by Bandai, Sotsu, Sunrise and other big companies, whose names I do not remember. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction, nor do I intend to.
ARCHIVE: Email me at first, but I always say yes.
COMMENTS: This particular fanfic is what happens when you've been reading too much into the Heero and Zechs scenes in Gundam Wing, with a healthy dollop of Heero-fixation added to the mixture. Oh, and let's not forget a niggling little desire to become an assassin.
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Chapter 9: Revenge
He pressed the buttons underneath his desk in rapid combinations and waited for the heavy steel door to slide open behind him. He stalked outside, pushing off his toes with each step, swinging his arms with military precision. There was darkness in his eyes.
Heero rapped on Inu's door with three sharp knocks and two softer taps.
Inu called out suspiciously, "Eh? Who is it?"
"This is Odin."
The door opened with a slam, and Inu peered out incredulously. "Odin? But it's not safe--"
"I don't care. I need to speak to the clan right now, but I don't have the seniority to call a meeting. If you would oblige me--"
"No one would dispute your right to address the clan, Odin."
"Still, I would like to observe traditions."
Inu nodded and abruptly turned back to his room. "The main hall, in an hour." "/Arigatou, onii-san/."
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Heero entered the hall early, before anyone had even received the summons. It was a wide, vast room, with a concrete floor and no windows. Metal beams crisscrossed their way across the ceiling, the remnants of an intricate scaffolding that was never fully disassembled. He could see his footprints in the thin layer of dust that seemed to coat the building, not a sign of age, but of incompletion, this giant unfinished construction project into which the professionals had burrowed and from which they had created their hive.
The main hall was idly decorated with calligraphy scrolls and wall screens, a sad attempt at decorating the otherwise empty and deserted room. Heero began to trace an infinity symbol with his footprints in the dust, placing his feet in the same tracks over and over until they began to merge and smudge into a figure-eight. He stared up at the blue and orange light bulbs hanging from the ceiling in odd cage-like holders, the brighter fluorescent lamps taped securely to some of the lower beams. He imagined walking on that precarious ceiling, leaping "down" from beam to beam until he finally reached the concrete plane that mirrored the floor he was standing on now.
"Odin?"
He turned around and faced the twenty or so professionals who had trickled one by one into the hall. "/Minna-san/, I must apologize for putting the clan at risk by my individual actions. It is a poor way to repay your generosity in adopting me."
"Nonsense, Odin. If it weren't for you and your connections, we wouldn't even have jobs," Niko replied gruffly, shuffling one foot back and forth against the floor. He glanced down, looking embarrassed. "Besides, this clan wouldn't have held itself together without you. Truth is, it wasn't even really a clan until you reminded us."
Heero's face remained blank. "Nevertheless, you are all in danger as long as you stay here and hide me. And I have come to a personal decision that may sign your death warrants. If the clan decides that it cannot support me in my new mission, then I must leave."
"Odin--"
"/Minna-san/, I have decided to declare blood-feud with the leaders of the L1 underworld and their political allies. This morning, I informed the L2 bosses that Odin will defect to their side. If the clan does not wish to join me in this feud, I will remove myself so that I will no longer be a security risk."
Inu frowned, his hands on his hips. "Odin, why now? Why are you doing this?"
/I've been hearing that question all too often lately./ Heero closed his eyes and pushed his bangs back from his forehead. "They have shed the blood of someone to whom I swore my loyalty. Someone who has shaken my hand and asked me for my service. The contract was never fulfilled, so /bushido/ demands my vengeance."
"Is your master dead?"
"Not yet."
One of the other professionals murmured, "Is it necessary to follow this code to the letter, Odin? No one doubts your honor."
Heero let out a sharp breath. He whispered, "It is /not/ a matter of honor."
Inu stepped forward. "I'll support you."
"Me too," Niko declared, stepping forward himself. The others followed suit, forming a circle around Heero, who looked up at them with his usual expressionless face. He looked calm, but he felt an ache in his heart. They were following him into war, and they didn't even seem to know it.
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Heero rappelled down the wall, descending effortlessly with only one hand on the rope. He looked up at the small black sphere screwed securely into the wall and half-nodded to himself in satisfaction.
"What does /that/ do?" Inu asked incredulously.
"It's the last component of a motion detector system. This sensor, in combination with three dozen other sensors throughout the building, will feed back to my computer and report any movement into and out of the building. In case the intruders manage to escape the security cameras." He glanced at the man suddenly, a little apprehensive.
"I hope you don't mind, /onii-san/."
"Hm...I don't think I have much of a choice."
Heero smiled slightly.
A man poked his head into the room. He lifted an eyebrow at the new devices installed around the hall and nodded to Heero. "They're here."
"Aa." Heero picked up his equipment and walked to the front entrance. He suddenly stopped, staring in mild surprise at the door.
Two professionals were escorting a blindfolded young man into the building. Though most of the boy's face was covered by the blindfold, Heero immediately recognized the long brown braid that trailed behind him.
"Duo?"
The boy shook his arms free of the escorts and wrenched the blindfold off his head. He quickly glanced about his surroundings and turned toward Heero. He stared, then broke out into a wide smile. "Hey Heero!"
"What are you--"
Duo interrupted, "I could ask the same of you. I'm here to meet Odin Lowe, Jr."
"I /am/ Odin."
Duo simply huffed. "I more or less guessed when I heard the name. 'Sides, Quatre called me before I left."
Heero narrowed his eyes. "You didn't tell him that you were coming here, did you?"
"Nope. After all, at the time, I thought I was just doing an ol' friend a favor. Didn't realize at the time that the L2 underworld was at war."
"How in space are you an old friend of Boss Renzo?"
Duo grinned even more widely. "Isn't it a /stupid/ name? On the streets, we used to call him Moonface or Doughboy, because he was so fat and pale, even though he'd been starving on the streets for quite a while by then. He was the oldest boy in Solo's gang. Turns out that he survived the plague and scrabbled his way up to the top of the L2 professional hierarchy. And now, we call him Boss."
"Why did he send you? I was under the impression that he'd be sending his second-in-command."
"I /am/ his second-in-command, genius boy. Or one of them, at least. I keep tabs on the black market. Nothing's stolen on L2 without it coming to my attention first." Duo abruptly stopped smiling and glared at the other boy. "And that's all I'm going to tell you, /Odin/. I thought you were never going to kill again, Heero."
"I haven't."
"Oh?"
"I've spied, hacked, stolen, but I haven't killed anyone under contract yet."
"And yet you've built up /such/ a reputation," Duo murmured, shaking his head.
"Amazing what rumours and a borrowed name will do for you."
"So Heero Yuy, Odin Lowe Jr., nameless pilot 01 extraordinaire and ex-best friend...what can /I/ do for you?"
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"/What?!/"
Heero sighed. "I knew you'd react like this."
"I can't /believe/ you! What happened to 'I haven't killed anyone under contract yet,' you bastard?"
"I have my reasons."
"You...you--"
"Duo--"
"/Bakayaro! Shibalnom!/"
"Enough with the foul language," Heero cut in impatiently. Duo pursed his lips, breathing hard. The two boys stared at each other.
"Fine. Name me one good reason why I should let you get away with this, instead of letting Wufei hunt you down and put you in handcuffs."
Heero hunched over, his elbows on his knees, his head bent forward, letting his hair fall down into his eyes. There was a strange smile on his face, small and angry. Duo squinted, trying to get a better look at the other boy's expression. "Heero?"
"They tried to kill /him/."
The voice was so low that Duo wasn't sure whether he'd heard properly. "What?"
"He may die. /Again/. He came back from the dead only to die again."
"What the hell are you talking about, Yuy?"
Heero buried his face in his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes until he saw spots.
"Are you planning to translate this into ordinary conversational English anytime soon, or do I have to call Quatre and ask him what's going on?"
"Quatre doesn't really know the full story."
"Fine. Wufei then. Or Trowa. I'm sure Trowa knows."
A small, muffled voice choked out, "Zechs. They hurt Zechs."
For a moment, Duo was dumbstruck, but his face soon twisted into fury. "Heero, you are an absolute idiot! You mean to honestly tell me that you're going to go out and assassinate the L1 leaders out of /revenge/?"
"I'm offering to sell my services to Renzo, in return for his protection of my clan."
"No way."
"It'll end the feud."
"You're absolutely insane, Heero Yuy. Oh, and stupid. Did I mention stupid?"
"You don't understand it, do you Duo?"
"I--" Duo stopped. He flushed.
"Have you ever had someone that you'd kill for? Even if it meant becoming Shinigami again? Even if it meant fighting another war? Even if it meant the nightmares would return?"
Duo stared helplessly back at him, with an almost agonized look on his face. He opened his mouth, wavered as if he would speak, then closed it again, defeated.
"Even if he'd never look at you without pain in his eyes...even if he'd die without you seeing him once more...someone who you'd /kill/ for--"
"I /hate/ you, Yuy!" Duo almost sobbed and ran out the open door.
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NOTES: I am not quite sure whether the whole scenario with the professionals' "clan" is idiomatically accurate. In Korean gangs and mobs on television, the younger members refer to the older members of their group as /hyong-nim/, which should translate to /onii-san/. Whether gang members in Japan will actually speak this way to each other is beyond my limited knowledge. Oh, and /shibalnom/ is a very bad insult in Korean, along the lines of "you fing a," which I learned from my oh-so-silver-tongued classmates. I know almost next to no Korean expletives otherwise.
TBC