Chapter 1

Well, next chapter. So, it's been five years since the prologue. Duo hasn't heard anything of Heero since then, avoiding the news just so he doesn't have to hear about "Relena and her dashing husband." He moved back to L2 and had many jobs in those five years, settling finally as a teacher. But even this is on rocky ground for him.

I must say "sorry!" for the strange section breaks in the story. Fanfiction is so cruel; now, with the Quick Edit, I can't put in normal breaks. Ugh!

I hope you like this chapter!

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+Five Years Later+

"Mr. Maxwell, just a moment with you." The sound of the soft voice of the principle of the school made me cringe. I looked up from my desk, where I was grading papers, and saw the wizened figure standing in the doorway. I scrambled to help her to one of the rickety seats in the class. She sighed as she sat down before turning her attention to me. I knew I had it in for me this time, if she made the trek all the way across the building to the lower level where I taught. I set down my pen and waited for her to speak, holding back the bile in my stomach. Surely, this could not be another time. I mean, twice in two years...she couldn't do that to me.

"Mr. Maxwell, I have found that much of the faculty does not like your...lax attitude towards work. They find that you are not pulling your weight around the school. Not that you are a bad teacher necessarily, but that you do not bring a...good feeling to this atmosphere." I nodded slowly. Yep, those were words I had heard far too often, and they only meant one thing.

"I am sorry then," I said. "I could change my ways, if you need that. I do love teaching here, so if there are any problems I would not mind at all fixing them." The principle whose name was...oh, yes, Demis, Anne Demis, sighed.

"That is not what I mean, Mr. Maxwell. It is just that, I think this school is not a good fit for you. The students do love you, but these are children who come from some of the harshest areas of L2. They don't need a sympathizer, but a teacher, someone who can show them what to learn and how to live through their lives." I bristled in my seat, suddenly wishing the old woman would die off. I mean, she was already on enough meds to fill a truck, so why didn't she croak already.

"So you're firing me, then?" Demis laughed.

"You do know how to get to the point, I must say," she said. "And, I suppose that 'yes' is my answer. We are working on disciplining students here, and your attitude does nothing to reinforce what they learn in their other classes." I gulped back the words stuck in my throat, hoping that none of them escaped, but my large mouth could not swallow all of them.

"So what, you're firing me because I have a heart and am not a stick-up-the ass teacher like the rest here?" That sent old Anne Demis for a spin. She started and held a hand to her chest. I almost felt sorry for her, the way she sat there, catching her breath with her tired lungs. "I try to give these students a place where they can be themselves. I know what it is like for them; I was there once, Mrs. Demis. Their lives are fucked up enough, so I'm letting them have some peace!" Mrs. Demis coughed loudly. She reached into the bag by her side and pulled out a sheet of paper. I read over it, my formal firing notice, and saw she had already signed it. All left was for me to sign on the dotted line, and that would be it for me.

"This is a correctional school for challenged and underprivileged children, funded by education committee of L2. We have no place for a teacher such as you, Mr. Maxwell. Our mission is to guide these young people to a brighter future by teaching them, showing them how to behave in society. Your contract will end in three days, Friday. You will have the weekend to clear out your classroom, and I expect it to be cleared. Do not worry over your students, though, since it does seem you have such a large heart for them. A new teacher is coming, and he will do a fine job in continuing the lesson plan." Mrs. Demis rose stiffly, holding onto the chair. She looked at me as if I would help her to the door, but in my stubbornness, I made no move to. She shuffled to the door and shut it behind her, leaving me alone in the room with the notice of my firing glaring at me from the desk.

"God-dammit!" I whispered, pounding the desk. Once more, I had lost my job, once more because people couldn't stand me. I couldn't believe this! This school was already under funded and lacked in teachers and they were willing to give me the boot. Hadn't they accepted me on the premise of thinking I would know better how to treat these children. Most of them were so fucked up that school wasn't doing a thing for them. Did these people think they could storm into these children's lives and tell them "this is what to do, now go." Of course not! They were the trash of L2, the bottom of the bottom, and bringing in teacher's from the highest elite of L2 would not help them one bit. That's why I came on, and why I was now leaving. I looked down at the papers in front of me, the student's stories I had assigned them to write only a week ago, and could not bring myself to grade any more of them.

"Well, this place wasn't paying anyway," I said, grinning. "Best to bust this joint now, I guess. There's better jobs out there for me."

But unfortunately, I could not bring myself to believe that. Sure, I had been successful at some things in the five years I have now been living in L2. I mean, my junk garage was a bust, but after that, I was successful—if you called prostitution and successful job. Oh and what about being a paid assassin for a while? Then a professional blackmailer. Yep, successful, I'd say. Teaching had been one of the few professions I could think of that would do me any good and wouldn't get me in serious trouble with the law. And, it seemed logical I would hold onto a job, since L2 was in need of teachers. But, I suppose that once again, as it was on so many things, my logic was skewed. So it was back to unemployment for me, and back to the streets unless I could find a job. Rent was already two months behind, and bills...what bills?

I picked through my papers, shoving them into one of the drawers of my desk. I hoped they would forget to clean that out and read them, someday, see what those students managed to pull off even if it seemed there was "chaos" in my room. I thought those students were finally making progress, but I suppose what I think of, as progress is not enough. I rested my head on the desk, looking across the sea of desks, empty of the students that once filled them. Over there, in the corner of the class, sat the little girl who always slept during class, and up in the front was the boy who would always ask why my hair was so long, and the other one, a child of an orphan, whose writings often times moved the class to tears. There were so many memories buried here, so many lives screaming for...something more then they had. Was it enough?

I stood, leaving my belongings beside the desk, and stormed from the room, too infuriated to look back. Once outside of the building, the fading evening light of the artificial sun was a comfort. I waited outside the building until I could regain my senses. People drug their feet along this road, tucked away in the slums of L2. They wore tired expressions on their faces as they passed, looking towards the ground instead of ahead. As if in a dream, each of these people lived and breathed and died here in the slums, holding the weight of so much yet never allowed to crumble below it. I slipped into the crowd and made my way to the bus stop. Already, there was a crowd around the pole. I turned away and paced back and forth while I wanted for the bus, in no mood to speak to anyone and too impatient to enjoy this quite time to myself. Finally, the bus pulled to a stop in front of me, and I got on, collapsing into the first seat I could find.

At the second stop I got off in front of my apartment complex. It was a dilapidated place, half of the windows missing, the bricks on the outside crumbling. I walked up the steps, which had holes in the concrete, and through the entrance. As usual the halls were filled with the noises from the tenants. I made my way to the rickety elevator at the end of the hall and prayed it was in working order today. Or maybe, if it wasn't, it would go the other way and plunge in the solid concrete below. That wouldn't be so bad, now would it.

"Don't have a job, have an empty apartment," I muttered, climbing into the elevator. I pressed the button for the third floor. "Yeah, it would break. This has just been that day."

"What day?" a cold voice asked from behind. I had not seen any other figures in the elevator, but sure enough, I turned to see the landlord behind me. He was a large man, old, balding, with a dirty face and cloths that never fit right. "Lose another job?" I growled and spun around on him, my temper flaring. "Don't get so angry, Duo," he purred. "If you can't pay the rent, you know how we can solve that." He advanced on me, but the elevator dinged before he could put a pudgy hand on me.

"Not now," I said. "If I don't find a job, yeah, I'll do that, but until then, no." I stormed out of the elevator, but the landlord's voice followed me.

"I'm waiting for that ass, Maxwell," he shouted. "By the end of the week or you're out of here." His laughter followed me all the way down the hall to my apartment. I stuck my key in the door and slammed it behind me, glad to be back in the one haven I had in this world. I flicked the light switch, and the lamp to my right lit up. I shed my shirt and threw it on the couch, too tired to care about keeping the place clean. I made my way to the miniscule kitchen and pulled a loaf of bread out the fridge. I stuck a piece in my mouth and collapsed into a chair at the table.

"Let's see, shit for the day," I said. "Well, I lost my job. My landlord's out for a fuck. And..." I looked at the empty chair on the other side of the table. "Heero," I whispered, unable to hold back. My whole body shook as memories came back, for another round of "destroy Duo."

For some people, five years was too long to hold back hope, think any more about another person. But to me, five years was nothing. It was simply a count of the time away from him, which, in other words, was time that did not matter. It was only a few days to have to live through, mindless hours to slave until I saw his face, those deep eyes glaring at me from under his lashes, his smiles, his laughter. I guess you could call him my first love and my last. There was no man that I would ever love as much as him and no man to take his place. He was that...as corny as it sounds "special someone," always talked about but never specified. But he had other plans in mind, other dreams waiting. He took the hand of Relena Peacecraft, diplomat extraordinaire, able to keep together world peace, forger of so many alliances in this time of happiness...only because if something was not her way she threw a tantrum. She had wanted Heero, like a beautiful glass toy, and took him. He accepted her "love" and her money, wealth, bribes. They were off somewhere, a happy couple, probably with a young child to call their own. They were a happy family of the spotlight. I could see Heero sitting upon the grass of an expansive lawn, watching a little girl with yellow ringlets run across it and back to his lap. Beside him sits Relena, smiling her cruel, sweet smile, her hands around Heero's waist...Heero...my Heero...

"But he's no longer mine." He slipped away. I let him leave that morning without a fight, let him give me a bracelet and nothing more, a parting gift to say 'get out of my life, Duo.' I was the forgotten one, a scrap to be swept away once it came time to clean the house. Heero had done so, that's for sure. Because here I was, back to the trash, back to L2. Every day was clockwork, a mechanical dream world where I went through my activities without thinking. Thoughts always brought me pain, like now.

"So I need to stop thinking," I told myself. I took another bite of bread. First, I need to get a shower. I felt so dirty, so tired. After that, I can read a book for a while. Then eat dinner. Then sleep. Tomorrow, I will return to the unemployment office, see if they have any openings for a teacher somewhere, anywhere. I'll avoid my landlord. I could go back and teach my class, but since I was leaving on Friday, I felt there was no need to. They could have that time free, do what they wished, and write another story, maybe. I did not know and did not care.

"Off for a shower," I told myself, grinning. My face contorted into that smile and kept it until I reached the safety of the bathroom, where I no longer felt someone could see.

Only then, did I break down in tears and cry.

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"I can teach, if there's any openings anywhere like that," I begged the man at the unemployment desk. He looked through the directories on his computer without saying a word.

"So you got kicked out of another job?" he said. "Haven't you been teaching, and needing to teach, for two years now?" I shrugged and gave a nervous laugh. I leaned on the counter and peered over at the computer screen, now searching the directories for a teaching position.

"Well, life's been a little rough."

"For all of us," the man agreed. The computer beeped and pulled up a list of jobs, amazingly long. "This seems the only field open these days. I don't know what it is, but this colony's getting worse and worse. We've been forgotten again. The economy hasn't been this bad since before the war." I looked away; the topic of the war was not one I loved to touch on, no matter if it was a casual discussion. "We were doing great for a while, right after the war's end. You remember that?"

"I was on earth then," I said. Yes, on earth, trying to sort out my life with Heero. "I came back a year after that, though, and it did seem better." The man gaped at me now. I stared at him, and he coughed, realizing what he had been doing.

"Just amazed you managed to get back to earth. I wish I could afford that flight. Wouldn't it be wonderful to get out of here?" I nodded and laughed, but inside I had little desire to ever set foot on earth again. How could I want to? It was on earth that I lost the greatest battle of my life. "So, what you interested in? I have an opening here for a high school English teacher." My face lit up.

"Where is it? I've taught English before. And I was hoping for high school."

"Not nearby. It's in the nice end of town; a private place for the nicest family's to send their children. They want an English teacher for the sophomore class. Of course, I don't know if they would like you to come there. Hate to break it to ya, Duo, but you're pretty out there." He pointed to my braid. "You could get the job; you have the smarts, but that braid might kill ya!" A lump formed in my throat. "But it pays a lot. You could get out of here easy. I think you need to move up, man. So will you accept it? They need the position filled before the weeks end, and you'll start two weeks after that." My whole body felt cold. I could see the nice end of town, knew what it offered me, but to lose my braid...the hair I carried with me all of my life...the hair Heero had so lovingly toyed with, braided and unbraided and ran between his fingers. I could not do that.

"I would take it, but..."

"All righty then," the man said with a smile. "It's always great to see your type move up. Here's the number to contact them. Call them up, since they want an interview first." I took the number with shaking hands. The man patted me on the back, almost knocking the wind out of me.

"Who said I wanted it?" I said, anger boiling inside me. "I don't know if I will accept, so what else do you have around here, maybe in the area?"

But the search was fruitless. There were no more openings the man could find for English, and I was not ready to teach any other subjects. Finally, I took the number and left, a chill running through my body that did not come from the warm August air around me. The man might have been joking about my braid, but what if he was not. Even the slightest jest regarding cutting my hair made my blood fill with ice. No one would make me part with this hair. Never. It carried so many memories in it I could not end those now. No, my hair was to stay. And that school would have to deal with it, if they did not like it.

"Well, back home I guess," I said. I stuffed the slip of paper into my pocket and made my way down the street. I had time to kill, so I took the long way home, walking instead of the bus. It was midday, so the streets were not near as crowded as in the mornings or the evening time.

This part of town wasn't bad, better then some places I had lived in my life. It was a little rough, but still held charm in it's own way. I walked by an apartment building with clothes hanging from the lines between buildings. Occasionally, someone would have dared to put a few flowers in front of a house, or up on a box in a window. The bright splotches of color, yellows and red, provided a nice change from the oppressive buildings. I knew there was one old woman, a few blocks down, that would always be out with her flowers. I could not help but smile when I walked by them. She always whispered to herself about her old lover, how he would tend to this garden every day, until he died. She whispered to herself, for the most part, but I heard her and smiled a genuine smile. Heero would have tended to those flowers every day also.

And flowers reminded me of a day, far back in my childhood. Rarely did I actually think back that far, to my time in Father Maxwell's church, but this was a rare moment. In around my second year there, Sister Helen put me in charge of tending to the garden. She showed me how to water the flowers, get rid of weeds. That garden consumed my life. I would spend hours amongst the beautiful flowers, loving their smell and the brightness of their colors. Weeks passed as I sat in that garden, laughing, naming each of the flowers with my own name for them, since I found the other names to be boring.

I looked up, realizing I had been staring at my feet this entire time, and found myself passing by my old school. I glowered at the prison-like setup of the place. A correctional facility is right. I suddenly thought about how much I hated that place, more then I hated most jobs. It was good I was moving, changing, I told myself. I increased my speed as I passed by the large fence where you could look inside and see the playground. But I did not go unnoticed. A child called out my name.

"Mr. Maxwell!" he shouted. I looked up to see one of my students, Robert, charging towards me. He stood by the gate and looked up at me with his wide eyes, the eyes of a child, for sure. "Mr. Maxwell, where have you been? You weren't in class today. We waited and waited but you didn't come, so Emily got up and taught the class. We wrote a story about you, Mr. Maxwell. It's on the blackboard! You should read it; it's very good. And Emily drew a picture to go with it. Mr. Maxwell!" I bent down to his level.

"I..." What was I supposed to say? That I was fired and was never coming back? That they would no longer be able to see me, ever again? That face was so expectant, so full of admiration. How could I let it down? "I didn't feel well today, Robert. I'm sorry. And I don't know when I will be back. The school will have a substitute for you, though. I've heard he's good." My insides churned.

"But Mr. Maxwell," Robert whispered, "we want you to teach us. You are a good teacher, not a bad teacher. You helped me save mommy when daddy was doing bad things to her. You helped Emily, and Joseph, and all the others. Please, Mr. Maxwell." Tears gathered at the corners of Robert's eyes. I was amazed to see that. So few of these children cried, having learned from before that it only hurt more. But Robert was crying now. "I want you back, Mr. Maxwell!"

"Robert, I really am sorry. But something has come up, you know, and I can't do that now. I can't teach you. I wish I could, Robert, I do, but..."

"...well, some things cropped up in my life, Duo. It's not that I don't love you, not that at all! Just...I can't explain it to you right now, but due to certain factors, this is the only option I have..."

"But Mr. Maxwell..." Robert tried to reach through the links in the fence, but I backed away. He looked up at me as I stood, cursing myself for being so ignorant.

"I have to go now, Robert. You keep working hard, along with all the rest of the class. I'll see you someday." I felt ready to vomit, looking at the crying child below me. He strained as if to break the gate, calling out my name, but I turned away from him to calm the bile in my throat. I knew what I was doing to him, lying like that! Of course, I would never see him. I knew what Robert felt like, hearing such encouraging words from someone, believing them with all his heart. But they were empty promises, things to be toyed with, without weight. What a hypocrite I was! I stormed away from the fence and down the road, each step testament to my anger. I was a fool, and this life was not working. I knew that. Maybe that man was right. It was time for change, before I dug myself a deeper hole. Things were happening to me, and this life was only going to destroy me.

But how could I have told Robert that I was leaving that school that needed so much, for a better job. How could I explain that it was not my fault I was going? None of them, my students, would understand. So many people had told them they were leaving, for one reason or another, and now was another person that was going to forget them. How could I say I was going to find a better job out there, because this one was not paying enough...

"But who said I was taking that one?" I mumbled to myself as I stormed inside my apartment complex. "It's all the way on the other side of town. I don't have enough money to afford an apartment over there, and I can't commute that far every morning..." I sighed. I needed to make money from now until when I called them and, hopefully, could take the job.

I let the elevator carry me to my apartment. I shuffled inside and collapsed on the couch, too tired to even make it all the way to my bed. Once there, I fell into a deep sleep where not even Heero could touch me.

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I had not been out into another part of town in a while and decided that to help my attitude, I needed to eat out for dinner. But things rarely went as I planned them. As I waited for the bus to come, a man walked up to me. He was dressed like a business man, and looked pleased with himself. I could easily guess where he came from, knowing there were few men of any stature that came here after dark (and it was well after dark) that did not reside here. Unfortunately, he approached me.

"Do you know how I could get back to the Ohjinke station from here?" he asked. I thought for a moment, studying his clean-shaven face.

"Well, take this bus all the way to the end of its route. I know that probably makes you cringe, but don't worry. That part isn't that bad for long. Once you get out of there on the next bus that comes through, it gets better. That bus should have a stop to the station." I paused, looking the man over. "It's surprising to see someone like you here. You lost?" The man smiled and nodded. He was inching closer to me.

"Yeah, just stumbled through," he said. I heard that excuse many times before, in my earlier years living in this area of town. I knew that very few people "stumbled through" here without a purpose. Some of the most prized...and varied...prostitution rings worked through here, man, woman, child, a combination of all, whatever. And by the way this businessman eyed me, I could guess what he came for.

"That happens quite a lot," I said. One side of me wanted to play into this man's hands, earn some cash of my own, but the other side, the side worn by my new troubles and not ready to accept yet another, stopped me. I had tried whoring myself out once and found myself slitting my wrist almost every night, only to watch the blood dry and seal over (a cruel trick of nature, I must say). "I hope that you can find your way all right, though."

"So just get off at the last stop. All right, that's good," he said, grinning at me. "I don't know, though. I mean, I'm prone to losing my way, and maybe...well, how far are you going?"

"Not too far. I was planning on getting some dinner." You need the money, one voice whispered in my head.

Fuck off.

"Someone waiting for you?" the man asked. "I was thinking about stopping someplace for a meal myself. What would you recommend?"

Think about earning some extra cash. This is better then the landlord, no? "I don't know. There's a pretty nice deli down a little ways. And no, it's just me," I said. The weight of those words broke my back though. Yes, it was only me. It had been that way for five whole years, never another that graced the threshold of my apartment with any intention of remaining. It had been so long since there was ever one who would have done that. Not even the friends I had made through these years ever stayed very long. And they were just friends to me, nothing more, nothing ever.

There was only one who had dared to work his way in my heart, and he was still a thorn wedged deep in my emotions. Like I would ever dare to let anyone else in, though. Some people might have called that clinging to hopeless love, but I could not let go, and would not. I touched the bracelet on my wrist.

"Well, maybe I should try that. By the way, the name's Mark. And you are?" I grinned a sly grin and inched just a little closer. He held out his hand for me to shake, and I took it, looking at him from under my eyelashes. I could tell he was beginning to bubble inside. I shook hands with him.

"Duo," I said. "I was thinking about eating there myself. Maybe you and I could...eat together. How does that sound? I would not mind spending some quality time together, if that is what you want." The man chuckled and leaned towards me. The bus was approaching, but he whispered in my ear.

"I'll pay well if you accept. You're quite a beauty." I smiled.

"I wouldn't do this if I didn't want money," I shot back. He righted himself and watched the bus slow to a stop. All the while, my two halves fought their final battle. But the side of me, ruthless, ready to claim much needed cash, won over. The other side was too emotional. I had no more room for emotions now. That would take up too much energy. Emotion was an extra, a frivolous item. For now, my emotions had to wait, since in the real world they would only slow me down. I slipped easily into my mask for the world and followed the man onto the bus. My emotions sat behind on the curbside, staring at my retreating back.

And so the cycle began again.

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I have news! Guess what today is? Today, Feburary 17, is Kaoru-san's birthday! For anyone who doesn't know, he is the guitarist of Dir en Grey. And yesterday was Kyo-san's birthday; he's the vocalist. Ahem, yes, I admit I have a bit of an obsession problem. Just a little...ahem...

Thoughts about this chapter? Questions, comments, constructive criticism? GREAT! Drop a review then. They would be much loved and appreciated!