Ok, now that I look at it more, this fanfic probably contains OOC (out of character)ness. most likely heero and trowa
Chapter 3:
Nanashi sat in the middle of his floor. He was cold and hungry. He hadn't been given food or water for a week. His clothes were torn and soiled from his beatings. The handcuffs were cutting into his wrists. He wanted to cry again. But he hadn't cried for a week, not since that night.
"Why...why are you...crying..." Quatre Winner had asked after Nanashi had stabbed him. Nanashi hadn't even realized that hot tears had been streaming down his cheeks during that move. It had surprised him. As Quatre fell, he had touched his face, fingered his own tears. They felt alien to him. All of a sudden, it was as though he had woken from a dream. All the terrible things he had done came back with new strength. He'd begun to wail. Guilt was tearing at his heart. Quatre's blood had forced the guilt up. He rushed Quatre to a hospital, left him there to be treated then wandered about for hours. That is, before he called Quatre's home and spoke to Trowa. Trowa sounded enraged on the phone. Nanashi couldn't blame him for it. He merely told him where to find Quatre and hung up, unwilling to continue the conversation with him. But he was not done yet.
Nanashi made a stop at a flower shop, used some money he had been given long ago to buy 13 roses of varying colors and hues. He put them in a lovely vase and arranged them in a befitting way, before adding his simple letter and the photos. Nanashi returned to the hospital in a different jacket, left the flowers in Quatre's room and tried to leave. Fate was cruel to him and he ran into Trowa again. Trowa seemed worried about his friend and luckily didn't recognize Nanashi. Nanashi was able to flee the hospital, tears in his brilliant eyes, before being caught by the guards and dragged back to the base, bound and gagged.
He had suffered a savage beating as soon as he was dropped off in his room. He had disobeyed orders, didn't return directly after finishing his assignment. They left Nanashi on the floor after his beating, bleeding and whimpering pitifully. He was secretly thankful. If they had known that Quatre wasn't dead, then his beating would have much more severe. Nanashi sighed heavily. His ribs hurt but he could sit up now. His stomach growled hungrily and Nanashi began to doze off.
"You're such a fucking coward." the voice hissed. Nanashi tossed slightly as he slept.
Go away...
"That note, bah."
...I'm not a coward. I will accept death.
"Bullshit! You'll accept being murdered. That's still not taking matters into your own hands."
"See? In your heart, you know I'm right."
I don't believe you. Go away, I want to sleep.
"Listen you, you think that being killed will erase all that you've done?? Hah!! It won't. If anything it will increase the guilt. Letting yourself be killed instead of fighting to reclaim your innocence."
You don't know what you're talking about...
"God if Jack could see you know, he'd vomit at the sight of you."
...You're lying. Jack would understand...
"You keep on thinking that. We both know the truth. You're a damn disappointment. Heh, you're lucky he abandoned you before he could see how weak and horrid you have really become." The voice silenced and Nanashi slept. He had an undisturbed sleep for a while, dreamed of old things. It relaxed him a bit. Then the nightmares began. He kept seeing all the people he killed, kept seeing Quatre, practically his twin, fall to the ground and bleed. Nanashi whimpered and tossed, cried in his rest. A sharp pain erupted in his chest and the dreams were over.
The handsome officer glared down at Nanashi. Two other guards were with him. The one that always leered at him and another that Nanashi had only seen once or twice. One of the guards grabbed Nanashi by the front of his shirt and tossed him against the wall. The fresh bruises and cuts on his back burned and ached upon impact; Nanashi whimpered. One of the guards rammed his foot in Nanashi's stomach. He gasped and doubled over. Something hard came down against Nanashi's neck and he collapsed.
"Well Angra Mainyu, here we are again." The handsome officer growled and grabbed him by the back of the hair. "Haven't you learned what disobeying will cost you?"
"I'm...I'm sorry..." Nanashi lied. He wasn't sorry. He had been in sunlight; he had been able to fail. He had no reason to be sorry yet. They threw Nanashi onto the ground and took turns kicking him in the stomach and ribs. Nanashi closed his eyes tightly, bit back his pain stricken tears. He looked weakly at the officer, who sat on his bed and watched the scene with a sickening smile. Nanashi closed his eyes and waited for it to stop. Something in his chest snapped; Nanashi screamed.
"That's enough." The officer said finally. The guards backed away. Nanashi panted painfully. The officer forced him to sit, pressed his back against the wall. Nanashi whimpered quietly. "You need to remember your place, Angra Mainyu."
"N...Na...Nanashi..." Nanashi mumbled, half awake. The officer back handed him.
"Fine be that way." The officer snapped. He forced Nanashi's mouth open and jammed the barrel of his gun down Nanashi's throat. Nanashi's eyes opened wide. Suddenly, he didn't want to die. Nanashi struggled, kicked out one the officer's legs. He growled and snapped quick orders. The guards grabbed Nanashi's shoulder's, held him still. Nanashi screamed as loudly as he could. The officer smirked; there was a small click. Nanashi closed his eyes, tears dripping. I don't wanna die!!!
Nanashi didn't feel the dying pain of a bullet ripping through the back of his skull. Simply felt the pain of being pistol whipped in the face. Crumpling to the floor, he heard the officer snicker. Nanashi opened his eyes; his sight was blurry and red tinted. He wondered how hard he had actually been hit.
"Now then Angra Mainyu," The officer said, pulling Nanashi's face to his. "No more disobeying orders. Right?"
"...Yes Sir..." he mumbled. The officer let him fall and rest. Nanashi could hear them leave him on the cold floor. Shivering, he drew his knees close to him and closed his eyes. The voice began to harass him again but Nanashi said nothing. I'm such a coward...
"Damn straight. Glad you realize it. You're a coward, now go to Hell."
It had been two weeks since Quatre was stabbed. The doctor said he was going to make a full recovery but that he should take it easy for a while. So everyone was helping out to make things a little easier on him. Quatre wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea that he couldn't do much around the house but the others did a fairly good job of running things. Save for one incident involving Duo and the microwave that everyone agreed they would never speak of again. Wufei typically took care of making the meals, Heero handled the wash and vacuuming, Duo did the dusting and random odd jobs that needed to be done. And Trowa mainly took particular care of the garden and lawn, at Quatre's request.
Of course, Trowa also ran most of the errands that had to be done. Which was why Trowa was loading groceries into the trunk of the car, with Wufei leaning against the car door. The bright street lights overhead gave the small parking lot the light they needed to see by. Wufei sighed heavily. He hadn't wanted to go; he detested shopping. Trowa didn't enjoy it either. But it was either do the shopping or listen to Heero and Duo's loving giggles. That was something neither of them had been in the mood for.
"Damn it, I can't believe she said that..." Wufei mumbled to himself. Trowa knew what he was talking about. The cashier, a middle aged woman, had asked them as they paid for the groceries if they were planning a private dinner for two with a rather sneering voice. Wufei had given her a cold glare and Trowa said nothing at all. Insinuating that they were lovers, neither of them were pleased that she was judging them like that. But secretly, Trowa wished it was true. He felt so very lonely. He had always felt lonely. But ever since he had begun to dream of that boy, his loneliness had increased.
"Yeah..." Trowa sighed heavily. Wufei gave him an interesting glance.
"Something wrong?" He asked. Wufei sounded interested. Trowa hid his own sorrow and looked back at him.
"No nothing's wrong." He put the last bag in the trunk and leaned against the car. "We got everything on the list right?"
"Yeah, I think so." Wufei answer. He started reading over the list, talking to himself and making mental notes of the things they had bought. Satisfied, he shoved the list back into this pocket. "Yeah we got it all."
"Ok." Trowa said and closed the trunk. He spun the keys on his finger for a moment. "Let's go home then." He went over to the driver's side.
"Yeah ok." Wufei said and began to open the passenger door. Trowa wouldn't have noticed anything if Wufei's eyes hadn't narrowed as he looked at him. Wufei whipped about, drawing and throwing a dagger Trowa had only seen once or twice before. Two daggers flew past one another, colliding with two bodies. Wufei slumped against the car, gripping the blade in his shoulder. And far off, a person staggered back, ripping the blade out of his hand.
"Wufei!!!" Trowa yelled. Wufei said nothing. Trowa wished he could the person's form. Trowa cursed loudly and pulled a hand gun out from under the seat. He fired a single shot, watched as the form fell to its knees then start to run. Trowa made a note of the direction before rushing to Wufei's side. "Wufei!!!"
"Its nothing, I'm fine..." Wufei gasped slightly and winced. He looked at Trowa with his normal cold stare. "Get him." Trowa nodded, leaving the gun beside Wufei and chased after the attempted killer.
The person was fast; Trowa was uncertain of where exactly he had shot him. But he caught up after a few moments. The streets were deserted so no one noticed Trowa chasing after a bleeding young man. The male took a sharp turn down an alley. Trowa followed. Damn it, you're not getting away!!!!
The male looked back at him from under the black hood. He leaned back against the dead end behind him. Trowa stood at the entrance to the alley. He watched the person's every move. The male shook slightly; Trowa could see blood dripping down from his pant leg. He ran that fast on a wounded leg? Jesus Christ. The only person I knew could do that was Heero. The male looked about for an exit. Trowa took a couple steps forward and the male panicked. He pulled out a gun and fired. Trowa dodged somehow, used his speed and agility he had acquired from his work with the circus to escape harm. Rushing the male, Trowa brought his fist against his face. The male's head snapped back; he had a young voice. Trowa knocked the gun out of his hand. It fell and slid away. The male tried to fight back but it was almost as if he didn't care. Trowa grabbed the male's wrist. He fell to his knees in silence.
"Why?!" Trowa yelled at the male on his knees. "Why did you try to kill him!?" The boy said nothing. "Are you the same one who tried to kill Quatre!?" Trowa demanded. He grew more and more furious at the silence. "Damn it answer me!!!" He could have sworn he heard crying. Trowa pulled slightly on the male's arm, tried to pull him to his feet. The male fell back down a bit, his hood fell from his face. Trowa's eyes widened.
For a moment, he thought he was looking down at Quatre. But whoever this was wasn't Quatre. He looked up at Trowa with those sparkling green/gray eyes of his. Trowa's expression softened. It was that kid. The same one who had ran into him on the street two weeks ago. Tears seeped from his wounded eyes. There were bruises and small cuts on his face and neck. Trowa looked at the boy's wrist in his hand; it was so thin. Trowa feared that if he clutched it any tighter it would shatter.
Releasing him, the boy fell onto the ground. Small sobs escaped him and Trowa felt his rage abate. Something Quatre had told him in the confines of his room a few days ago surfaced. "You want to know about my attacker? ...He looked...so much like me. But he was much thinner and his hair was whiter and his eyes were green. He did say that he had killed that politician, but because 'they told him to.' He attacked me and stabbed me with a sword. But he was crying as he did." Trowa had been silent as Quatre spoke. "There's something else. He...He said he wanted to die." He remembered the roses, meticulously arranged. And the single blood red rose that had drawn him to it. He remembered the photos, Wufei's and Quatre's with a slash through it. And he finally remembered the note. I'm so very sorry...Please kill me.
Trowa got down on his knees beside him. He watched the tears fall onto the filthy ground. Trowa hesitated then placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. He couldn't feel any rage towards him now, only despair and pity. The boy looked up at him confused and pulled away slightly. Trowa gripped his wrist again and the boy stopped.
"...What...What's your name?" Trowa asked quietly. I have to know. God tell me your name. I've been dreaming about you for the last two weeks. Please tell me your name.
"...N...Nanashi..." he answered slowly. Trowa felt his lips curl into a small smile. Nanashi. He liked the name for some reason.
"Nanashi..." Trowa repeated. "You're the kid I ran into on the street." Nanashi nodded slowly. "...And you were on your way to kill that politician." Nanashi's nod was more shaky. "And two weeks ago, you attacked Quatre in the park, stabbed him with the same sword." Nanashi sobbed softly. Trowa's heart still felt no rage. "...You took him to the hospital?"
"...Y...Yes..." Nanashi whispered.
"Did you leave the roses?" Trowa asked. Nanashi said nothing. Trowa had to know. "Please...I...I won't say anything about it."
"...Yes...I sent the flowers..."
"You were the one in the hallway." Trowa said. Nanashi nodded again. His tears were stopping. "Why? Why are you doing this?"
"...Because they tell me to..." Nanashi answered. Trowa wondered who Nanashi meant.
"Who tell you to?" Trowa asked. Nanashi said nothing. "Come on Nanashi. I won't say anything."
"I can't say..." Nanashi answered. "Please go away..."
"Why?"
"...Just go..." Nanashi begged. Trowa's grip tightened slightly. He was afraid Nanashi would run. He wanted him to stay. But it wasn't because he wanted information out of Nanashi. Trowa felt...happier with Nanashi by his side. Nanashi pulled slightly.
"Please stay..." Trowa felt his throat tightened.
"I have to go...I have to go back..." Nanashi voice sounded terrified. He pulled away and staggered to his feet. He looked down at Trowa, tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry...I can't help it anymore...I'm weak...I'm sorry..." Nanashi shook his head and ran out of the alley and out of sight. Trowa sat on the ground for a moment, watching the point where Nanashi had been sitting. He felt no anger to the person who tried to kill Quatre and Wufei any longer. All he felt was a gaping hole in his heart knowing that Nanashi was gone. Trowa sighed heavily and stood, walking back to the car. Wufei looked at him from the passenger seat. Trowa said nothing and got in the car, started the engine and headed home.
"...Well?" Wufei asked. He seemed to be fine, even though his shoulder was bleeding. Trowa said nothing and continued to look ahead. Wufei pressed on. "What happened?"
"...He got away." Trowa said, trying to sound like he didn't care. Wufei frowned and looked out the window.
"Did you get a look at his face?"
"...No." Trowa lied.
"A name?"
"...No name." Trowa blinked slowly as he lied. He wasn't about to tell Wufei anything. He wanted to keep the name and face to himself, at least for now. The others would surely look for him to kill him if they knew. Trowa couldn't let that happen. I can't let him die. He's filling a gap in me. I can't let the others knew yet...I have to know more about him.
"Oh..." Wufei said. He sighed a bit and rested his head against the glass. Trowa sighed quietly. They were silent for the rest of the ride home. Wufei looked to him everyone so often, probably wondering why Trowa was so silent. Trowa ignored the glances and continued to think. Nanashi was so frail. Trowa wondered where he had gotten all those bruises and cuts. They looked fresh. I know I didn't cause them, and even if he had gotten them fighting Quatre, they wouldn't be that fresh. Nanashi had said he did what they told him to. Perhaps he had gotten those wounds from those who controlled him. Trowa's stomach turned, a bit of rage rose in his chest. If those people were hurting Nanashi and forcing him to do these things, then Trowa was going to have to stop them. Trowa blinked slowly, suddenly wondering why he thought that. I hardly know him, and yet I want to defend him with my life. Why? Why does my heart flutter when I think about him and why do I feel a murderous rage when I think of what someone could be doing to him? Why?
Trowa broke off his thoughts as he pulled into the driveway. The lights were still on in the house. It wasn't very late; the others were still up. He knew they were going to question him about what had happened but Trowa wasn't going to say a thing about Nanashi. Not until he understood what Nanashi was going through. Turning off the car he looked over at Wufei. Wufei looked at him as well. In silence, Trowa asked him if he wanted help. Wufei looked away and got out of the car and stumbled slightly to the house, still clutching at his bloody shoulder. Trowa sighed and pocketed the keys before slamming the car door shut and unloading the groceries from the trunk.
"Trowa, what the hell happened!?" Heero snapped when Trowa came in with grocery bags in his arms. Trowa hid his face behind them and placed them on the counter then returned to the car to get more. Heero cursed and followed him. "Damn it Trowa, answer me!" Heero yelled. Trowa shoved two bags into Heero's arms. Blinking strangely, Heero carried them back into the house and returned, taking a couple more. Trowa closed the trunk and locked it and followed, carrying the last of the bags inside. "So what happened?" Heero asked again. His voice seemed a bit calmer now. Trowa started sorting things from the bags and putting them away.
"Someone attacked me." Wufei snapped from the couch.
"Well we could kinda tell that." Duo snickered. He took great care on wrapping Wufei's wound. Quatre sat at the table, holding a cup of tea in his hands that was steadily growing colder. "Hold still."
"Ow! Watch it!!" Wufei hissed. Trowa sighed quietly.
"So what happened?" Quatre asked. "Details?"
"Someone threw a knife at me." Wufei snapped again.
"Did you get him?" Heero asked.
"No..." Everyone looked at Trowa; it had been the first thing he said since he came inside. "He got away..." Trowa put some frozen vegetables in the freezer. He knew that someone, maybe all of them, were watching him. Closing his eyes for a moment, he returned his attention to the groceries.
"Did you get a look at him?" Duo asked.
"I didn't." Wufei said. "He was too far away."
"So we know nothing about him." Heero growled.
"He's Caucasian, possibly British, about 15 or 16 years old. Maybe 5' 5". About 120 lbs, frail skeletal structure. He might be anorexic or something. He's very fast and has superb aim." Trowa said quietly. He looked back at the others for a moment. Wufei had the same emotionless face that he always had but there was a glint of surprise in his eyes. Duo gaped at Trowa, unknowingly tightening the bandages around Wufei's shoulder. Quatre sipped quietly on his tea, slightly wide eyed.
"...How do you know that??" Heero asked after a moment of silence.
"Just because he got away doesn't mean I didn't get close enough to figure some things out." Trowa said simply. "But I didn't get a look at his face so I don't have any other details."
"Well it's a start...a vague start. But a start." Heero sighed.
"Yeah...hey Trowa?" Quatre asked. Trowa looked back at him.
"Yes?"
"Do you think it's the same person who tried to kill me?" He asked. Trowa's throat tightened again. He turned away.
"Its possible." Trowa replied and continued putting the groceries away.
"Well its obvious that he wants us dead." Heero said as he sat down on a chair. Trowa said nothing. "He's tried to kill two of us."
"Unsuccessfully." Duo laughed. Heero smiled a bit at the American boy.
"Yeah, but still he tried. Which means he'll try again. But now that we know he's after us, we can be ready for him." Trowa's stomach lurched and clutched the counter. He knew exactly what Heero was talking about; it was the same thing they all had been trained for. Death. Trowa clamped his eyes shut and begged himself not to think about. Not to think about the idea that they were going to kill the frail Nanashi. "Trowa? You alright?" Trowa forced his eyes open; they were still dry. Releasing the counter slowly, he ran a hand through his hair.
"...Yeah I'm fine. Tired. I'm going to bed..." Trowa sighed and walked out into the hall. "Good night." he called back before walking into his room and shutting the door. Leaning against the closed door, he listened to the muffled conversation in the dark.
"Is he ok?" Quatre asked. Probably asking Wufei.
"He was very quiet during the ride home. Much quieter than usual." Wufei answered. There was a small hint of concern in his voice.
"Maybe he feels guilty." Duo said. Seriousness overtook his normally jovial voice. "I mean, you got stabbed and he lost the guy who did it. Maybe he's blaming himself."
"Its possible..." Wufei replied.
"But he shouldn't." Quatre said. A chair scraped against the floor. "I think I'll go talk to him."
"Leave him be Quatre, at least for now." Heero said. The footsteps stopped. "Let him sort his thoughts. You can talk to him tomorrow."
"I guess..." Quatre sighed loudly. Trowa sighed as well. "He's going to be okay though, right?"
"Trowa normally is." Heero answered. Trowa held his head. "Well we should get some sleep. Tomorrow we can start trying to find out any particulars about this person so we can end all this." Heero said. Trowa listened to the different footfalls, the quiet calls of "good night" and the soft latching of different doors. Dragging himself over to his bed, he crumpled into it. He didn't bother to undress, just covered himself up and nuzzled into the pillows. A tear threatened to fall down his face. Just the thought of one of them killing Nanashi, it made his heart want to break. Trowa curled up in a small ball and closed his eyes. Nanashi's face came to him again. He sighed sleepily and slept, dreaming about the beautiful killer.
Quatre turned his alarm off the next morning. He stretched a bit and yawned softly. It was rather early; the sun was still rising in the sky. Quatre smiled brightly at the sunny day outside his window and pulled himself out of bed. He dressed somewhat slowly, still taking it easy. But he was feeling much better and hoped to Allah that soon he'd be able to do work around the house again. While he did appreciate everything the other's did, he wanted to be doing something.
Quatre walked silently out of his room, shut the door behind him. The house was bright and warm this morning. Quatre grinned happily as he walked down the carpeted hall. He could hear the soft sleeping noises coming from behind closed doors. Quatre laughed quietly to himself then stopped. He stood outside Trowa's bedroom. There was little noise coming from Trowa's room. On occasion, he heard a small cry come from within. Quatre wondered what he could be dreaming of. Overwhelmed with curiosity, he pressed his ear to the warm door and listened closely. He heard something, almost a sob. Then a name.
"Nanashi..." Trowa whispered in his sleep. Nanashi?? Who's Nanashi? Quatre had hoped Trowa would say more but he fell silent. Quatre pulled away, suddenly feeling a bit ashamed that he was eavesdropping on his friend. He shook his head and went into the kitchen, scolding himself a bit as he began to make some tea. An idea struck him. Quatre set out two mugs and took out a small tea box. Typically, he didn't like Trowa's choice of tea. But he could tolerate it. Besides, it might make Trowa feel better. He seemed very upset last night. Quatre let the water sit on the stove to boil. I wonder if the paper is here yet.
Slipping on a pair of shoes, Quatre stepped out into the morning. A cool breeze ruffled his hair. He grinned and stretched again, basking in the warming light. Quatre was thankful for a moment that this house was seated within the woods. While they were still close enough to the town, the place still had a secluded feeling. Almost like a sanctuary. Quatre began the long walk down the hidden path, heading towards the mailbox that had been meticulously hidden. The five of them had taken great care in keeping their identities secret and only a select few people knew that they were there. Sally Po being one of them. One of her allies stayed in the town, to keep an eye on things and all of their mail and things were sent to him first. Then left in the hidden mailbox. Quatre parted the branches and looked inside it. There was only a paper. Must have dropped it off earlier before the mail came. Sighing a bit, Quatre pulled it out and held it against his chest as he fixed the branches. Something fell from the newspaper.
"Hm?" Quatre knelt down and picked it up. It was a plain white envelope, the kind one might find a card in. Quatre looked it over. There was no return address. Someone must have dropped it off...but who would know where this is? Quatre felt a small tinge of worry. He noticed it then, the name written in a fine, thin script.
Trowa Barton
"To Trowa?" Quatre said out loud. He stood and held the envelope tight. "Who is sending this to Trowa?" For a moment, Quatre was tempted to open the envelope and find out. But as much as his heart told him to, Quatre was not about to invaded Trowa's privacy. "I'll give it to him. Maybe he'll tell me who sent it." Quatre headed back to the house, hoping the water was almost done.
When he entered the house, no one else was up. Quatre smiled slightly; he was glad. Now maybe he and Trowa could have a private conversation without Duo eavesdropping. Dropping the paper on the table, Quatre retrieved the teapot and poured the burning water into the mugs. He set two tea bags in them, watched them steep and turn the water a golden brown color. Quatre grabbed the sugar bowl and put a couple spoonfuls into his own mug. That should make it taste better. Putting the envelope into this pocket, Quatre picked up the two mugs. He burned his knuckles slightly when he gripped them but ignored it. He walked back to Trowa's door, kicked it open lightly. Trowa looked like he was still asleep. He had his back to Quatre. It looked like Trowa hadn't slept well; his blankets and pillows were thrown across the floor. Wondering if Trowa had been having nightmares, Quatre set the tea on the dresser.
"Trowa?" Quatre called. Trowa tossed some. Quatre hesitated then sat on his friend's bed. Trowa didn't seem to notice the new weight. Quatre shook him tenderly. "Trowa?"
Trowa's eyes snapped open. He breathed somewhat heavily and looked about the room, as though he couldn't remember how he had gotten there. Timid green eyes rested on Quatre; they frightened Quatre a little. Trowa finally calmed, his breathing slowed and he sat up, running a shaking hand through his hair.
"...Good morning Trowa." Quatre said. He tried to sound calm but he was worried now. Trowa never had a bad dream, at least none that Quatre had ever heard. To see his friend so nervous as he slept and when he woke, it made Quatre's heart shake.
"...Good morning..." Trowa replied in a quiet voice.
"Sleep well?" Quatre asked, trying to sound like he hadn't noticed anything. Trowa looked at him. There was almost a look of relief on his face. They both knew that Quatre wasn't about to tell the others.
"Could've been better." Trowa admitted. Quatre nodded slightly then retrieved the tea from the dresser. He handed one to Trowa, watching him slightly to make sure his shaking hands didn't drop it. "Thanks..." he said and sipped it slowly.
"Sure. I know how much you like it." Quatre smiled and sipped his own. The sugar made it taste better. Quatre watched Trowa drain his mug quickly. The tea steadied him. Good. "It's a lovely day out today."
"Really?" Trowa said.
"Mhm. I went down to see if there was any mail." Quatre removed the envelope from his pocket and handed it to Trowa. "This came for you. But...there's no return address."
Trowa set the mug on the nightstand and took the envelope in his hand. He didn't open it; he stared at it. Looking at the writing, Trowa's face changed. There was a softness to it and yet nervousness. Trowa's hands shook slightly, closed his eyes for a moment. ...He does know who its from, doesn't he? Quatre thought. But I can't tell if it's a good thing or a bad thing. He looks kinda happy, but kinda scared too.
"Trowa...is something wrong?" Quatre asked. Trowa shook his head and left the note on the table. Quatre didn't want to push his limits but he wanted the truth from him. "Come on, Trowa. You can tell me." Trowa said nothing, looked down at his hands. "Please?" Trowa still said nothing. Quatre finally decided to ask. "...Who's Nanashi?"
"Wh-What?" Trowa looked up at him. Quatre studied his expression. He was clearly surprised at Quatre's question, and worried too. Like he seemed worried about that envelope. "Why do you ask?"
"...I heard you say it in your sleep." Quatre admitted. Trowa said nothing at this. He looked at the window for a moment. Quatre wondered if he was angry.
"...Quatre..." Trowa said finally. Quatre looked at him. "You said...your attacker had tears in his eyes when he attacked you. And...that he said he wanted to die..."
"Yeah." Quatre whispered. "Why?"
"...What does that tell you about him?" Trowa asked and looked at him. Quatre had been thinking about it lately. He put his hand in front of his lips and considered his words before speaking. Trowa waited in a respectful silence. He seemed interested in Quatre's response and willing to wait.
"What do I think?" Quatre began. He crossed his arms slightly and closed his eyes. "I think he really did feel guilty. There was shame and self hate in his eyes."
"...And the they he mentioned?" Trowa said simply. Quatre wondered why Trowa was asking him this.
"...I think they, whoever they are, are messing with him." Quatre said finally. "The same way that people messed with our heads. But on a much grander scale. I think he's kind of like Heero, a perfect soldier. But I think they're still working on breaking him. Whoever this is, his emotions and judgment are still intact. That's probably why he became so upset..."
Trowa said nothing at this. He laid back against the pillows and stared up into the ceiling. Quatre watched him, wondering about him. Sighing heavily, Trowa closed his eyes. For a moment, Quatre could have sworn something glittered on his friend's lashes. A tear perhaps? Quatre had never seen Trowa shed a tear, never in all the time that he had known him.
"Does that answer your question?" Quatre asked after the silence was too much for him to bear. Trowa nodded and opened his eyes. If there had been a tear, it wasn't there anymore. "Good. Trowa?"
"Yes?" Trowa said as he sat up again. Quatre looked down at the mug in his own hands. He tightened his grip around it.
"...Why did you ask?"
"I was just curious." Trowa replied. It was a lie and Quatre knew it. But he could hear the others stirring and decided better than pressing further.
"Oh ok. Well I'm going to make some breakfast. Do you want some?"
"...Sure. I'll be out in a few." Trowa got up, he had slept in his clothes, and began to straighten up his bed. Quatre smiled and took the empty mug and left. He leaned his ear slightly against the now closed door and listened. Swearing that he heard a faint cry, Quatre shook his head and returned to the kitchen to make breakfast. He heard Heero and Duo's bedroom door open and smiled at them, hiding the worry beneath a bright disposition. I will ask about it later, Quatre thought as Heero came to help with breakfast. Trowa will tell me what's wrong...I hope.
Authors notes: Angra Mainyu: Its Persian. It means "Evil Spirit" and is the God of Destruction. Yes its meant to be a paradox of Nanashi's true character. And for those of you who do not know, Nanashi means "Without Name" in Japanese. That's my notes for now RR please