Impossible
A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction
Rambled Off by The Manwell
Book Two: PREVENTERS
Heero Yuy
Mammillaria albicans
Minimum average temperature: 50° F
Sun Exposure: Light shade
Origin: Mexico
Growth Habits: Clustering cylindrical cactus, up to 8 inches tall, 2.4 inches in diameter, 4 to 8 central spines, with sometimes one hooked, 14-21 radials
Watering Needs: Water sparingly, needs good drainage
Flowering Habits: White to pale pink flowers
I don't have to look at the small card that had come with my Christmas present from Duo. I'd memorized it completely the day he'd given the tiny plant to me. He'd intended for it to be a joke although I'm still not sure exactly what that joke is. I sit down on the arm of the couch and just watch the cactus grow in achingly slow motion.
It's only about three inches tall now and it hasn't quite begun to crowd the miniature clay pot. After a bit more extensive research, I'd learned that I'd probably have to wait six months to notice any appreciable growth. But that's all right. Even as small as it is, it's already promising flowers.
There are five tiny buds perched not on the top of the cactus as one might expect but along the slightly bulging barrel. All of them are clamped tightly shut as if trying to resist the persistent rays of the sun in order to roll over and go back to sleep.
I had been looking forward to watching these tiny blossoms open. From further research, I had learned that it would happen within the upcoming week and that they would, most likely, unfurl very quickly. But unless they open up tonight, I probably won't get to see them; I leave for the moon tomorrow.
And this afternoon, I'd almost asked Duo to stop by my apartment and check on the flowers. I'd almost asked him to bring a camera.
I catch myself evaluating the logistics needed to rig a camera to take a photograph every six hours and I have to smile, albeit a bit ruefully, at myself.
This cactus blooms every year in March: there will be other blossoms.
I sigh and stretch out an arm to reach the nearest lamp. The shadows had grown deeper as I'd been sitting here thinking about flowers. I tug the brassy chain and golden light erupts in my living room. Even though Duo and I have worked together on many assignments over the years, it had still taken us the entire afternoon to prepare for my departure. I have a morning flight and I haven't even packed yet.
I allow myself another moment to study the way incandescent light bends around the cactus on my living room window sill. And I really wonder what Duo had thought was so funny about it.
Leaning away from the couch, I propel myself in the direction of my bedroom, intent on getting some of that much-needed packing started. But even as I pull out various shirts, ties, and slacks, I'm still wondering about the significance of that cactus.
Cacti are amazingly delicate creatures for all their prickly appearance. The majority of their weight is due to water retention which, in an environment that only receives precipitation a handful of times a year, is necessary for survival.
I pause.
I backtrack and reconsider those last thoughts. I consider the possibility that Duo had chosen the plant for me as some sort of metaphoric analogy. Although I don't have spines, I'm aware that I'm usually perceived as being rather aloof. Perhaps even unapproachable. And like the water-tight skin of a cactus, it's my tendency to refuse to allow my emotions to escape me. Or my memories. I hold them inside, guarding them like they're treasure. And perhaps they are. The moments of friendship I'm given with Wufei and Duo are few and far between. Like desert rain.
And then that thought nudges me in yet another direction: Duo. When had been the last time he and I had been... well, for lack of a better word, friendly? When had been the last time we'd confided in each other? Offered encouragement? Reassurance?
I think back over the last two years we'd been employed by the Preventers... and I think back over the second battle we'd fought on New Year's Eve... and I think even further back to the year of silence after the first war... hell, I even troll through my memories of the first war itself.
This isn't the first time I've done this sort of historical examination. Every time I find myself thinking back on time and events I'd shared with Duo, I come to the same uncomfortable, inevitable conclusion: somehow we'd come through battle after battle without ever truly becoming friends. And there just seems to be something horribly wrong about that.
I sigh and decide to stop thinking about it. I never get anywhere with it, anyway. And besides, I have an assignment to pack for.