Progress: 11 of 14
General Notes: It's been a while since I last updated, and damn. School started…again, which sucks majorly. We're finishing off the calculus section in maths, which sucks, because I actually like calculus. And our next topic is probability, which has simply got to be the most bastard topic in the entire mathematics syllabus. In any case, here is the next chapter of Covetousness. It's all broken and segmented, but that was the effect I was going for. Hope you guys all enjoy it!
Music: Hymn of the Fayth – FFX OST; Once Upon a December – Anastasia OST; Butterfly – Digimon Soundtrack; All about Men – Eason; Place for my Head – Linkin Park; Oblivion – Kotoko; Light of Love – Brainpowered (I think that's what they're called); Sakura – Prince of Tennis sixth ending theme; FFV - OST

Covetousness

Chapter Eleven: Heero

A little boy sat on the steps of an old church, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his only friend. Zero did not like to play with the other kids, except with Duo. But Duo was amongst the youngest in the orphanage, and spent a majority of his time at the heels of Sister Helen. Not that Zero minded. If it made Duo happy to follow the sister everywhere, then he was not complaining. Loneliness was not something he particularly minded, but rather a good friend he had long since become acquainted with. Zero always knew that he was different from the other children, on both the outside and the inside. He had cold blue eyes that told of an obvious European lineage, yet the rest of his features pointed in the oriental direction. He could also run faster, jump higher and was overall physically stronger than most far older than him. Somebody once told him that it was because of his strangeness that he was abandoned, and that nobody would ever love him, but Zero knew they were wrong. Duo loved him, and that was enough.

In the distance, he heard Duo squeal and dash over, his small stub of a ponytail bouncing with his movement. The boy engulfed Zero in a tight hug, all the while singing at the top of his voice. If it were anyone else, Zero would have been annoyed. But it was Duo, and that made everything okay.

'Hey Zero?' Zero looked up from the book he had been reading, seeing Duo settle down on the floor before him. He cast the younger boy a questioning look, and Duo smiled, but his face remained confused. 'Why are you called Zero?'

'I don't know.' Zero replied. 'Probably the same reason you're called Duo.'

'You say Duo means two right?' Duo asked. 'So there's two of me?'

'No, there's just one of you Duo.' Zero responded. 'You're unique Duo.'

'Then you're unique too!' Duo smiled, saying the word with difficulty. Zero smiled at him fondly, but his smile betrayed his own pain.

'I'm not unique.' He muttered. 'I'm nothing, just like my name.'

'That's not true Zero!' Duo cried. 'Zero is the Hero!'

'I'm the Hero now am I?' Zero asked with amusement, folding the corner of the page he was reading and tucking it away. Duo grinned widely, showing two missing teeth.

'Yea!' If it was possible, his grin grew wider. 'Zero is my hero!'

'Yes.' Zero smiled. 'Your hero.'

Duo was crying on the bottom step of the chapel, his slowly growing ponytail completely gone. Zero raced over quickly, looking frantic. Still crying, Duo told Zero about the other children complaining about his hair and one of them cutting it off. Zero was suddenly very angry. Gently, he pulled Duo into a hug and took the other boy inside before setting off across the courtyard in search of the kids responsible for chopping off Duo's hair. He found them easily enough – the only children in the entire courtyard in possession of scissors. Without question, Zero grabbed the scissors and lunged forwards. By the next morning, all three of the boys responsible for Duo's pain the previous day had no hair left on their heads, and Zero was put into solitary confinement by a huffing Sister Helen.

Still, it was worth while just to see Duo smile again when he found the other children with no hair at all.

Odin Lowe arrived one fateful day in summer, adopting Zero and removing him from the orphanage. Duo cried, and he did not like it at all. But Odin persisted and dragged him away. Zero was angry at his foster-father for weeks after that, not that it really mattered. Odin never paid him any mind at all. Odin lived at an apartment which he shared with many other soldiers, and they taught Zero how to use a gun. Zero did not need to be taught. He watched them do it once and learnt completely, and filled in the gaps in his knowledge by reading books. The other men never paid Zero any mind either, almost as if they did not know he was there at all. All except one man called J. He seemed fascinated by everything Zero did, and often made Zero run laps and hack computers. He was always happy to watch Zero get somewhere, although Zero never felt anything from his praises. He knew that J was just using him as a guinea pig, but that did not matter. J did not discriminate him for his differences, and that was okay.

Odin did not like J though. He would see J with Zero and grit his teeth. He hardly ever did anything about it, but Zero could still see his anger. Zero did not pay Odin any mind, why should he, considering how little the other man cared for him. Odin showed him how to kill a rabbit with a gun, but the time he was six, Zero was killing people. It all seemed so surreal. Heero would advance on the unsuspecting victim and pull the trigger, and the person would die. Simple. Odin did it too, but Odin always drank after his missions. His face would become completely red and he would speak incoherently, but Zero would always sit nearby when Odin did this. Odin when drunk was perhaps the only time he ever felt close to his foster-father, the only time when Odin would drop all inhibitions and cry like a normal person.

Odin died when Zero was seven. The military listed him as killed in action, but that was not true. Odin came home after particular mission with a grave expression on his face, and hit the liquor immediately. Later that night as he laid with his upper body completely draped over the table, he told Zero to think, and not allow himself to be a pawn for someone else's game. To follow his own heart and not the orders of somebody else. He gave Zero a gun after that, and told the boy to pull the trigger. Zero released the safety and pointed the gun at his foster-father's head. Odin smiled when he died, it was a bittersweet smile that told Zero volumes about the man he never knew. A man who died bitter with the weight of failure heavy on his chest. The military gave him a grand burial, one of the best assassin's they ever had. J took custody of Zero after that.

J gave Zero a room far away from everyone else, and gave him strange pills to take every day. Sometimes, he would give Zero pills which put the boy out for days. Zero would always wake up back in his bed, sometimes with bandages over his body. It was not important though. He would get up, receive a mission and run off to kill more people. Zero could not even count how many people he ended up killing. Somehow, his childhood passed as a big blur. Sometimes, he could not tell when he was awake and when he was dreaming, everything was surreal, his life was surreal. When he was sixteen, he was acquainted with Quatre Winner, a boy with kind blue eyes and golden hair. Zero told Quatre everything about his life, even though he knew he was not supposed to. J knew about their relationship, but he said that it was okay. As long as it was only Quatre Zero told, then everything was alright. Zero was glad, he had somebody to talk to, and Quatre would always listen with a kind smile on his face.
When Zero was nineteen, he was assigned to Relena Peacecraft as her bodyguard. The first time they met, he greeted her in the way J had told him to greet women: he took her hand and kissed it. Relena looked slightly flustered by the gesture, but she smiled it off. She introduced herself, even though there was no need to. Zero knew who she was, everybody did. But he followed suit and introduced himself as well in the name that J had told him to use: Heero Yuy. Relena said she liked the name, and asked for its meaning, but Heero could give her none. Heero, a name derived from Hero, something that somebody once called him but he could no longer remember. He told Relena as much, and she smiled cheerfully.

'You're going to be my hero from now on!' She had joked, but Heero did not return the smile. He was somebody else's hero, not Relena's. The foreign minister sensed his discomfort and told him that it was a joke. Still, Heero did not smile. He did not understand jokes. Still, Relena smiled and chuckled at various things. Heero had a feeling she was laughing for the both of them.

Relena spoke a lot. She talked about her dead father, a great person with brilliant ideals, and never lived to see the peace between the colonies he had worked so hard to establish. She spoke about her mother, a woman who she hardly knew, and only referred to her as mother by title only. Relena admitted that when her mother died, she had felt very little pain save the small prickle that somebody died.

'I know it was wrong.' Relena had murmured. 'But I never knew the woman, and try as I might, I can't feel true sadness for somebody I never knew. Do you understand that Heero?'

'Yes.' Heero admitted. 'I felt the same when my father died.'

Relena had a lot of enemies, but she would always smile it off as if it were nothing. Heero never let her get hurt, but the girl was never stunned when bullets began to fly. Some times, Heero would see her sitting alone by the small lake, on the steps of her white pavilion, crying quietly. She would never cry when she saw him near by though. Instead, she would smile and laugh and when she learnt of a new possible threat, she would joke about it and make the whole situation into something amusing. Heero secretly admired her strength, her ability to put on such a façade. The only times Relena ever slipped was when Heero was not watching, or when she thought Heero was not watching.

Sometimes, Heero thought that Relena was keeping up the smiling face for him.

Somehow, that hurt more than getting shot in the chest.

Heero and Relena were having a game of chess when Relena proposed. They were in the stone pavilion, playing with a set of chess that the foreign minister had purchased only a few days prior. She was good at chess, but unfortunately, Heero was better. Still, she enjoyed herself, and Heero found the whole thing fascinating. It was nice to be pulling the strings for once.

'Hey Heero?' Relena's voice was hesitant.

'Hn?' Heero responded distractedly, deep in the process of formulating a new plan of attack since Relena seemed to have seen through his previous one.

'Will…will you marry me?'

'Huh?' It was one of the few times in Heero's life where he found himself stunned beyond coherency. His eyes lifted from the chessboard quickly, fixing Relena's with a confused stare. Relena herself was blushing and fumbling with the champagne flute she had been drinking out of, her eyes on everything but Heero.

'Well, we are good friends aren't we Heero?' She asked, although her eyes were trained on the cup in her hands. 'You're the only person I've been so comfortable around, and you are always looking after me. We are with each other most of the time anyway, I really don't see how different we are from a married couple already.'

'I'm your bodyguard.' Heero pointed out firmly. 'You are my client.'

'Regardless!' Relena looked almost crestfallen. 'Please?'

'I need to consult my superiors.' Was all Heero could manage before letting his gaze drop back to the chessboard before him, former strategy completely forgotten.

'I think it's a great idea.' Quatre smiled as he leaned back in his chair, sipping at his tea. Heero gave him a confused look, but the blond man simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders, looking relaxed as he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the music playing in the background. Quatre adored classical music, which was why there was always something orchestral playing in the large study room. At present, Beethoven's Tempest was playing softly, piano notes barely echoing around the chamber. 'You like her, she likes you, why not? She is right, you know? You two do spend an awful lot of time together.'

'She's my job Quatre.' Heero sighed, pouring himself some cognac. He rarely indulged in alcohol in public, but drinking when at Quatre's place had long since become a habit. The blond always made sure that there was a bottle of something and some glasses on the coffee table when Heero came to visit, and being the friend he was, always put out drinks that Heero enjoyed the most.

'Well, in the end, it's your decision Heero.' Quatre said mildly, refilling his cup. 'Relena won't force you to marry her if you don't want to.'

'It's never my choice Quatre.' Heero murmured quietly, sinking down on the couch beside his blond-haired friend.

'There's always a choice Heero.' Quatre said comfortingly, patting Heero on the shoulder. 'Don't make a trial of everything Heero. You're alive, so live your life like you want to.'

'You sound like Odin.' Heero muttered coldly, pouring himself another glass of cognac and downing it quickly. '"Cut away all strings and live everyday of your life the way you want to", the hypocrite. He was a pawn for the military all the way until the moment he drew his last breath.'

'That's why he told you Heero.' Quatre sipped at his tea again. 'He didn't want you to make the same mistake as him.'

Heero got married to Relena only a few weeks after she proposed. J had decided the marriage would be beneficial somehow, and had ordered Heero to accept it. Naturally, Heero had accepted after that. How could he not? J had given him the order, so he had to accept. Relena had been happy, but of course did not know anything about J. They married in a very small ceremony on Heero's request, which had originally been J's, with very few attendees. Relena was happy regardless, and in that moment, Heero was glad that he could give back some of the happiness she was always putting on display for his benefit.

Even though they were married, Relena and Heero did not spend any more time together than before. The blond-haired woman did not seem to mind, and was merely happy that they were together. Heero was often away on other assignments, or places he could not remember. Still, every night when he returned, he would always find Relena in the lounge, waiting for him. She would then hug him tightly and give him a kiss on the cheek. She never asked where he went, and was always smiling. In retrospect, Heero supposed that his wife was in a lot of pain. It was unusual though, for even though he knew she was in pain, he felt little for her. Sometimes, there was the ever so small twinge at his heart, but that was it. Heero never left for long periods of time though, because he knew Relena hated it when he was away. She did not know what job he had beyond being a bodyguard for her, but she there was little to speculate where the occupation of a man who carries guns around wherever he went, despite whether he was on a mission or not, was concerned.

They had a son together, but Heero did not know how. He did not voice his confusion though. Large sections of his life were unclear, and often, he felt as if he was in a dream. Relena had been ecstatic about being pregnant, and told Heero about all the things she would teach their child. She asked Heero whether he wanted a boy or a girl, and Heero had responded truthfully that he did not care, that either was good since it would be their child. Relena had smiled wilder then than Heero had ever seen her, and he felt a small surge of happiness within himself as well. But it was gone moments later, and he was left feeling as if he had just lost something important.

It was the first time he realized there might have been something really wrong with him. He did not tell Relena, but he had a feeling she knew anyway.

'Quatre?' Heero asked, taking a seat beside his friend in the large study room, enjoying the Mozart symphony playing in the background for a short moment. The blond man gave him a questioning look as he poured himself some tea. Heero remained silent for a moment, hands moving unconsciously for the liquor set out on the coffee table. He made himself a gin martini with the ingredients present, before leaning back against the couch, eyeing the drink in his hand. 'What's happiness?'

'Happiness?' Quatre looked surprised. 'Hmm…well, happiness is…it's hard to explain really. It's the feeling you get when you see something you like, or somebody you love. That warm feeling you get when somebody you love tells you they love you back, you know?'

'No.' Heero downed the glass and set it lightly on the coffee table. 'I don't know.'

'No?' Quatre's aquamarine eyes were sad. 'That's a very sad thing Heero. I'm sure there are many people who love you.'

'Do you love me?' Heero asked suddenly, locking Quatre's eyes with his own.

'Yes.' The blond replied instantly, smiling slightly. 'You are very important to me Heero, and I love you dearly. But I'm not the only one. Relena loves you, and that baby she's about to give birth to.'

'The baby isn't even here yet.' Heero poured himself another glass. 'You can't say he or she will love me with any certainty.'

'Yes I can.' Quatre declared firmly, his voice rising ever so slightly. Heero gave him an alarmed look, afraid that he might have offended his friend in some way. But the look Quatre gave him was one of sympathy and pain. 'Oh Heero, you might be a soldier, but please don't equate war with life. Not everybody you meet is going to be an enemy.'

'Not everybody I'll meet will be friends either.' Heero retorted sharply, downing yet another glass.

'You won't make any friends if you keep pushing everybody away!' Quatre looked flustered. He set down his teacup quickly before his shaking fingers broke something. 'You aren't alive if you won't give yourself the chance to live!'

'Then I'm dead Quatre.' Heero's eyes were downcast. 'I've always been dead.'

Their child turned out to be a boy, whom Relena named Xander, derived from the Greek name Alexander. He was almost a "carbon copy of Heero!" as Relena had said. They shared the same icy-blue eyes, the same slightly oriental features and the messy hair. Xander inherited Relena's light and calm personality though, although Relena insisted that all children were light and happy.

Seeing Xander chuckle from his place in his mother's arms, Heero wondered if he had ever been that happy.

Xander was two when he asked the question that started everything. Heero had been returning home after working on a mission for a day, and the little boy had run up to his father for a hug. Heero had returned it awkwardly as always, but the little boy did not seem to realize. Relena was apparently out in the pavilion, working on her next speech, so Xander was not allowed to bother her. Instead, he asked Heero to play with him, but the blue-eyed man had been reluctant as always. He always had the feeling that he may somehow injure the child, which strengthened his tendency to avoid getting too close to his son. After realizing that his father had no interest in playing, the brunet boy asked Heero to make him some food. Heero had agreed there, food was something he could make.

Heero walked swiftly into the kitchen with young Xander following along behind, running quickly to keep up with his father. When they got there, Xander asked if he could sit on the counter and watch Heero work. Heero agreed, albeit reluctantly. He felt as if such a high place would be dangerous for such a small child, but Xander had promised he would not move around and be very careful. He was going to be standing nearby at all times anyway, Heero thought, he would definitely catch the boy if he fell.

So Heero began to make a sandwich, something simple and quick, but contains enough fiber and nutrients to keep the boy going until dinner. He was in the process of adding ham when Xander asked him where he had been.

'Work.' Heero responded, slicing the ham into smaller pieces and adding them to the sandwich.

'Where does papa go for work?' Xander asked, waving his legs around.

'Office.' Heero answered, although that was a lie. The only time he was ever within an office was to speak to his superiors or attend meetings, but he was prohibited from telling other people what his job included.

'Do you sleep at the office papa?'

'No.' Heero responded shortly, adding a few pieces of lettuce to the sandwich. Finishing it off by adding the other slice of bread, Heero cut the sandwich twice diagonally, forming four small triangles, one which he passed to Xander. The boy accepted happily, taking a big bite out of it and, in his haste, choked on the bread. Heero patted him on the back quickly, and scolded the boy for eating too quickly. Xander apologized, although the look in his eyes said he was anything but.

'Then where do you sleep?' He asked, taking another bite out of his sandwich.

'I sleep at home.' Heero answered, confused. 'I sleep here with you and mother.'

'Did you stay awake for the whole week then papa?' Xander asked, eyes widening. 'Mama won't let me stay up past nine!'

'What are you talking about?' Heero asked, completely confused. 'I left this morning and I came back just then. There is no sleeping involved.'

'You're funny papa!' The little boy chuckled. 'But I can tell time, mama taught me how! You've been away for a whole week papa!'

Heero wanted to tell his son that he had gotten things mixed up, and that Heero had only been away for a short while. But something stopped him, and instead, he ended up patting the boy on the head and congratulating him. Xander was happy with praise, and told Heero all about how every time the sun went rose again, it was a new day. He had apparently counted Heero's absence by doing that: counting the number of sunrises it took for papa to get home. Papa always went for ages at a time, Xander said sadly, it made mama sad because she never knew where papa went. Did not know whether papa was safe. Was office work safe papa? Why did he take so long to get home?

Heero could not remember what answer he had told his boy, but he had soon dismissed his son and was dashing up into his room. He fished out a calendar from Relena's large stack of calendars and hid it in between one of the draws in his study room. He then took to crossing days out every day. At first, things seemed normal. But then he left one day and returned from work to find that he had not crossed out anything for three days. It happened again barely two weeks later, this time with his absence dating back five days. Heero was confused. He always returned knowing what day of the week it was, and yet it was often different from when he left. But he had not done anything during that time…

Heero fell back into his leather chair, calendar falling onto the desk with a clatter. His hands flew to his head, gripping it so tightly it hurt. Just how much of his life was he missing? What had happened to that part of him? Just what was he doing?

Heero fell asleep in the study room that night, feeling more frightened then he had ever felt in his life.

Endnotes:

Okay, that wasn't actually supposed to be the end of the chapter, but it was too long, so I decided to chop it in half. Oh poor Heero, what is wrong with him? Let's hope he doesn't stay in pain…