Author's Notes: I've gotten some comments lately that Heero seems to be acting a bit out of character in this series. I won't deny it, he definitely is at some points--but I tried to hint around a bit that he was acting OOC for a purpose, so to speak, as a plot device if you will. I'm not going to reveal too much here but I wanted to say (hopefully without sounding overly defensive :p) that I think there's more to Heero than what viewers actually see during Gundam Wing. Even Doctor J describes his protégé as a kind and thoughtful boy, though this personality doesn't put in many appearances in the anime. And now maybe I've said too much (these notes are getting long) but anyway... all I wanted to mention was that I'm really trying to delve into who Heero might possibly be inside his own thoughts rather than who he seems to be on the outside. Consequently he gets written differently than normal, I think. I love the fact that people are reading this fic closely enough to be able to comment on my characterization, though! That's always nice to hear, so don't think I'm complaining at all. :) It's just that gods only know how long it will take to finish this fic and I didn't want it sitting here collecting annoyed vibes when I have a plan in mind that's just not entirely evident yet.
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War Crimes
Interlude: Acceptance
by Akaitsuru RedCrane
I always knew it would end like this.
Since Wing Zero fell, I knew. No. Since that man first gave me my code name, the name of his old lover, it became inevitable. Heero Yuy died by violence. In assuming a part of his identity I became destined for the same fate. I've always accepted this, even looked forward to it on days when I had to assume other roles Heero Yuy played in Doctor J's life. On those days, lying there under him and feeling nothing at all, I know I longed for the end to come.
I only wish it didn't hurt so much, now that it's here.
It isn't as though I haven't been shot before. I'm familiar with the sensation. But those other times, I was sure I would live. I wasn't starved and filthy, living in an unheated warehouse surrounded by enemies. Before, I had a reason to live. I had missions to carry out and freedom to claim for the colonies. The things I believed in were illusions, but at the time they gave me a motive to exist. I drew on them for strength and I didn't feel pain the way I do now.
Thinking back, that period of certainty seems like such a long time ago. If I once had illusions, now I have nothing. No reason to struggle and no weapons left to fight with. I brought this ending on myself by realizing the truth: I am useless, and have always been so. While it's true that the five of us who became shooting stars gained what we were fighting for... that precious peace we all longed for... the conflict required the bitterest price from us just at the point where we should have been free. Now it seems fate is telling me it's time for me to collect that violent death, too, time to give in and accept it like I've accepted everything else since childhood. Despite what I once told Trowa, I've never actually followed my own emotions. I've never done anything but what I was told, except maybe that one time. Regarding that one person...
"Duo..."
I say his name in the darkness as I lie here, bleeding into a heap of blankets. I am freezing from the inside out, and distantly I wonder if Duo experienced the same sensation before he died. With perfect clarity I recall seeing his execution broadcast, and I do remember him shivering. I wish I could have done something to warm him, but even if I could have been there at his side I doubt I would have done any good. Even then I was useless. All my icy fingers would have done was chill him to the bone.
"I'm so cold..." I hear myself whispering, somewhere far away. "I'm always so cold, but you're warm..."
I don't know why that first night with him ever happened. I had every reason to hate him for the way he attracted me, not the least of which was the one he threw in my face afterwards: he was distracting. I broke so much of my mental conditioning just coming to his room I can't believe I had the strength--part of my training was to ignore or even eliminate such distractions, so caving to them the way I did should have been unthinkable.
The fact that Doctor J used me for just the same thing should have been even more repelling. I can't understand why I ever wanted to hurt Duo in the way J hurt me... but I did. The two of us repeated almost exactly the same scene that passed between my mentor and I more than a year before... and yet I still enjoyed it. Wanted more of it. Started needing him, which I've always been told is a terrible thing...
For these reasons and a hundred more I never should have started seducing him, or let it go on after that first encounter. But after that first time, I was as addicted to him as he was drawn to me. I let our game drag out until it was more than a game, and even I couldn't fool myself into thinking it was only that any more. Drug it out until this happened and Duo died. Let myself be distracted from the war to the point where we lost our battle. I'm responsible for our failure... Wing Zero showed me this future, brought it to me as a possibility to be avoided, but I couldn't force myself to believe it would ever happen. I couldn't give up that last vestige of selfishness, even for the good of the world... Now all I can do is accept it, accept it and die with the rest of them... like I should have, back on the battlefield, in sight of those four who turned out to be my dearest comrades no matter what I said or did to make them turn away.
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End Notes: My my my, sounding out of character AND fatalistic now, aren't we. :P Tsk tsk. Oh well...