Author's Note: I was bored in computer class and just started typing. Just before getting caught, I saved the thing I was working on and accessed it later on my own time. I was intrigued, so I continued. This is what came out of it. I was a little surprised by the end myself.
If it confused you, I apologize, I admit it's a little different. By all means, feel free to correct me on any mistakes -- canonical or grammatical. Also, if you feel anything needs clarification, I'd probably be happy to tweak the story. I probably didn't put as much care into it as I should have, but somehow that seemed to fit the tone and mood of it, too.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. I don't even own the DVDs or manga. So, this is just me, messing with Heero's head. Please don't sue me.
Hypocrisy or Paradox?
My orders were plain. "Eliminate the target." Most people would say "you have to kill the target." But what was truly meant, the actual meaning behind the words, was even simpler. What these orders were saying, what all my orders were saying, was just "you have to kill." It was the one reliable, absolute truth in my life. Actually, the life of any soldier is held to the same fact. You could even say it is no different in the life of any animal. You have to kill to survive. I have to be a weapon. Humans make the worst kind of perfect weapons.
Killing isn't evil in and of itself. Killing food is not only acceptable but necessary. Killing sacrifices is holy in most religions. Killing people can be justified, be it by self defense, or by war. Even vengeance can be seen as justification by many. But I'm not truly just killing. I'm murdering. I'm murdering people who I don't know, who may or may not deserve to die. I'm taking their lives, as ordered. That's what a soldier does. That's what a weapon does. Am I even human at all?
Some say humans are born good. But then they contradict themselves, saying evil is introduced when many humans are together. If all humans are good, many humans should be good as well. Yet, human interaction creates evil. I can't believe this, it makes no sense. How could I have been good from birth, when I'm so rarely sure what good is, or if it even matters. How can too much good, pure good, truly be bad?
Some people think humans are born evil. But they contradict themselves, too. They say that people need to be dictated and controlled in order for good to exist. But, if people are evil, then the dictator, being a person, must be evil, too, and so would not choose to force others to be good. He would merely force others to obey. Also, if humans are purely bad, good could not exist. Yet, even I know it does. I've seen it, cursed and heartless as I am.
So, I've had to try to figure out my own philosophy. I say humans are neither good nor evil. Yet, we are also both. The sword is not good or evil, nor is the gun. Weapons are only what they are used for. But, there is one major difference between weapons and humans. Each human decides for his or her self what he or she will be used for. Thus, we are the ones who control and use ourselves.
So, if we use ourselves for evil, we are evil. If we use ourselves for good, we are good. But who makes the determination of good and evil? Who determines right from wrong? And how do we know to use ourselves? Sometimes I wonder if these values that are constantly preached have any practical meaning. I have seen things I thought were good, and done things I have thought were evil, but how do I know if I am right? Do universal morals truly exist? And, if everyone strives to be good, as most claim, how can evil be nursed and flourish unless we have very different concepts of good and evil? And if we each have our own definition, how can the terms have any relevance at all?
I am less than human, and more than human. I am not bothered by the struggle of good and evil. I am the used, not the user. The weapon, not the wielder. So, I can achieve what most people won't dare to do, even when dreaming. Having no friends or people who are close to me keeps me from being weighed down by those around me. It eliminates obstacles and allows me to think clearly. Being alone allows me to focus only on what I must do. Having no dreams or desires for myself allows me to do what I have been told without selfish fears and survival instincts getting in the way. There's no reason for me to fear death, I have nothing worth living for. I have no clear notion of my own soul, if I have one, or my humanity, if it exists, so I am not burdened by concern for where I am going or where I'll end up. I will die when I can no longer be useful. I will be discarded, and I will end. I have no reason to fear that, it is a plain fact I have accepted, just as surely as I have embraced my imperative.
But, if I am so detached from human nature, why do my hands shake when I make a kill? Why do my eyes sting when I see blood flow, or when I remember the weight of that puppy's body in my arms? I have never cried. I don't think I am able. Well, not on the outside. Is that a trait of being super or sub human, I wonder? I follow my feelings, but I don't express them. Is that hypocrisy or a paradox? Does it matter? Whatever philosophy I may adopt, or whatever use I may try to put my life to, one truth remains. I have to kill.
That was my life. For sixteen years, that was all I knew, and all I was capable of. I was born and raised to be a soldier. No, a weapon. I was meant for fighting, for killing, and for death. My body was trained for it, my mind was developed around that reality, and my emotions were weeded out to better prepare me for the life I would lead. But now, I need never kill again. I fought so hard for a world of peace. And now we have one.
There's another paradox. We fought for peace. Wufei saw it as a hypocrisy, though. I always held his opinion in high esteem. He is a true warrior. I won't insult him by saying he's like me, but there are certain similarities. Perhaps more between us than I could see in any of the others. Except for maybe Trowa. The reason I found Quatre and Duo so infuriating, so fascinating, was because they were unlike me. They were better, more human than I was. Trowa bore his demons, and let his humanity slip, but he knew the importance of the mission and the insignificance of himself. But, he held on to the significance of the lives of others. That is a dangerous trait in a soldier. Wufei was a warrior, not a weapon, so of course he, too, was superior, in his way. But, we thought more alike. We were willing to see the harder truths of combat, but not only to see. We were willing to accept them, even enact them.
I was so lost when he confronted me. I had spent a year simply drifting through this peaceful, strange world, and to be brought from the lonely dream back into the reality of battle was a harsh shock. To be fighting an ally, and do I dare call him this? A friend? That was a harder blow, still. But I need never kill again. I can go back to my oblivion, back to my friendless, useless, hazy existence. I don't doubt for a moment whether what we did had a purpose, of even if it was right. I know that much, now. I know that good exists and that what we achieved in our two final battles was good. I even don't mind that I sacrificed my future for that of others, to keep them from becoming like me. But, I wish I could find some reason to stay in this world we fought for. I have purposefully avoided the other pilots and our. . . allies. It's strange to say that word; I'd always thought such things a weakness. But, the thought in my mind is not a bitter one, but comforting. They don't need my protection, now. So, I see no point in burdening them. Yet, I feel I need something to protect. Or something to hold on to.
Of course, I'm still embracing the old, warlike mentality. What is there now to protect others from? This may not be a perfect time, but surely a weapon is no longer needed in this day and age, when all others have been set aside. So how can a weapon, once cast away, be of any use. How can it solve the more delicate problems of a pacifistic planet and her colonies? The easy answer is it can't and shouldn't try, but I can't help but wonder if I'm taking the coward's way out again. That was what Catherine called Trowa's attempted suicide. While I may disagree with her on many things, I have thought about that declaration a lot. I always considered death a casual thing. I killed so many, I saw no point in clinging to my own life. But, what if that is the sign of a coward? On the other hand, Treize said I disappointed him because I wouldn't kill him, and end my own life at the same time. But I felt I had no right to pull the trigger. Was it my responsibility to kill him? Am I shirking responsibility now in the same way, putting off doing what good I can do with excuses of helplessness? Or, am I as right now as I was then?
Why am I telling you all of this, anyway? You're just some stray cat, you can't understand me. But, you certainly seem to be listening. I think I've just needed to talk things out for too long, and you're as good a thing to burden as anyone else. Or, perhaps better. You're alive and warm, but you won't talk back or answer me in any way. I think that's what I need most of all. To find my own answers. That seems to be what has been expected of my life up to this point. Why should now be any different? You're done with your dinner, I see. Well, I guess you'll be leaving. And I guess I'll be staying. What? I don't have any more food, I'm sorry. Your fur is so course! Purring? For me? You want to stay too, huh? Well, maybe you'll help me find what I'm looking for. In the meantime, I've certainly got room for one more.