The pain pricks his body like little needles grinding their way as they traveled slowly from his toe to his head. But the pain that he feels does not compare to his feelings of loss and helplessness that swarm his already beleaguered heart. He thinks of the things he could have done and could have not done. He thinks of his indecisiveness and the consequences that they had wrought to people he had cared for the most.
He lies down wallowing in his pain, while listening to the sound of battle through the monitor screen of his disinterested roommate. But all he really hears are the screams of agonized survivors and the weeping of those who have lost someone. To him, this is the true music of war: a sonata full of grief, regret and hatred. A music piece that has seemingly lacked a finale to it.
He is sick of this music, but he knows every note by heart. He has played it since he was young with his father's encouragement.
He was a good son. He still is. He still wants to prove to his father that he had rebelled for good reasons. He wants to show his father, wherever he may be, that his death could not have been entirely been brought about by his objections to his father's ideals.
He breaks away from his thoughts with the arrival of his new visitor. He turns his head towards her, though it hurts for him to do so. He likes to watch the way her amber eyes would softly express her mind's thoughts, despite the different tone her words may carry. But today, he cannot stand the way she looks at him—full of sadness and pity. And so he turns away from her.
But he knows he cannot look away from her too long. He catches a glimpse of the ring in her fingers as she gently pushes away his hair from his saddened face. The jewelry seems to gleam at him with cold irony. Though she seats there with him, with his ring around her finger, he feels that she is too far from his reach.
He thinks of the time when they were not at odds; when all that mattered was each other's well-being.
But now, even that seemed to be not enough.
He tries to listen for the waltz that he had played with her. It was a piece that was far shorter than he had expected it to be. And it was difficult. The notes were more complicated and the tune had an overwhelming sense of sadness, not too different from the one his father had encouraged him to play. Yet altogether they were two different pieces, and for awhile he was content.
But it was too short for his liking, and he often had to repeat it. Its subtlety was not up to par with what he was used to. It lacked a crescendo and intensity; and in the end he became too listless to continue. And he left her to dance the waltz by herself, wanting to believe that his absence will not change the tune.
And yet here they are again struggling to find that calming tune they had found with each other. But deep down he knows—and she knows—that once lost could never be found again.
And their time continues to dwindle away in their silent tune of regret.
.finis.
-disclaimer: do not own gundam seed destiny-