Surviving on Your Own
Uncertainties
Being suspended for a month is more than a pain in the ass. I have nothing to do, nowhere to go. Killing boredom is much more difficult than I thought it could be. I spend most of my mornings in my local gym trying to burn off steam. Try to fight this aggression out of me. I can't let something happen like what I did with Dr. Swarnson again. That was unjust and flat-out wrong on so many levels. I need to control myself.
I've been trying to get back into my meditation and katana, but it seems I've lost the focus for them. They used to be a great source of relief for me. I could find equilibrium within myself through my mediation. Through practicing my moves, posture, and stance with my katana practice I could direct any upsetting emotion through those moves, and they would fade from me like a weight being lifted. Now when I try, it's just not fulfilling. Maybe I've lost too much of my dignity.
I tried drinking at a bar that night I left Preventers HQ, and it turns out that I have alcohol flush reaction. Finished one beer and my whole face turned beet red. Goes without saying that that only made my mood worse. Can't even find an escape through booze.
Nights are the worst. I lay awake thinking about all the things I've done wrong. I wasn't able to protect Merian from death. I couldn't save my colony, or my clan. Turned my back on my comrades because I couldn't or wouldn't believe in Relena Peacecrafts peace. I fought alongside my war brothers only to turn on them once we had achieved the peace we fought for. How pathetic can I be?
A part of me wants to ask their forgiveness. Though I'm sure I already have it. I feel like I shouldn't be forgiven so easily. Our goodbyes to each other had been done quickly on my behalf. I had wanted to get out of there and as far away from them as possible. Plus, I had to destroy Nataku, and that I had wanted to do alone.
I would like to see them again, to know they're alright. Quatre seems to be doing fine. He's on the news now and then. I don't really worry about them. They're all smart determined young men like myself. When I think back to our goodbyes I can't help but imagine Maxwell's face. He had this very determined expression, like he needed to say something of great importance. Then when Relena had announced that Yuy would be leaving with her, Maxwell's face fell. He looked so sad. I'm fairly sure whatever he had to say was to Yuy, but I guess I'll never know.
Anyways, I'm going back the gym tonight to lay into their punching bag. I can't think of anything better to do with my Monday night.
A few guys there keep telling me about underground street fights. They think I should join and put myself in, but one of them has to invite and escort me in. I could definitely kick anyone's ass, but I'm a Preventer. These kinds of fights are illegal, but I think I'll go soon just to see what they're all about.
The next day, I approach Tyron, one of the men who told me about these underground fights. I tell him I want him to take me to where they are held, so I can see for myself. He doesn't know my occupation. I'm sure a Preventer, the galaxies police force, wouldn't be welcomed.
If he takes me I have one of three options. Expose the place for their underground fighting and gambling, which might get me my position back. The second option would, be to look away and let them go on doing what they please; because really, a fighting ring isn't our top priority. Or I join in, and fight. Find a channel to let my rage through so that it won't consume my soul.
Tyron agrees to take me with a wide grin. You'd think a Tuesday night would be dull but so far it's not. This place is under a bar. People bet on who they want to win. It's like a fight club of sorts. Just a bunch of sweaty men beating the shit out of each other. It's dark and dingy and reeks of body oder.
I think I might actually want to do this. I haven't had a good hand to hand fight in a long time, and no one to spar with.
Tyron nudges me with an elbow and asks, "Think you could hold your own in there?" He nods towards the two men fighting. They lack grace and strategy, it's just street fighting. This room is loud with men shouting, holding up fist fills of cash. I answer Tyron with a grunt and a single nod. One of the fighters goes down with a thud to the concrete floor that's littered with blood and sweat. The man still standing raises both fist into the air and the crowd cheers and boos.
"So em what you got, Fei," Tyron teases.
I growl, "Don't call me that."
"Who's going to be our next two fighters?" A rather obese man asks from the center of the floor where the two men had been.
I step forward and claim, "I will fight whoever dares to challenge me."
"Ah, a newbie I see," the fat man says in his shrill voice. "Who wants to show the new guy how to take a beat down?"
"I will," says a giant African man from behind me. He's huge, and his voice is deeper than another I've ever heard. But I'm not afraid of him. I can use his height and girth to my advantage. I've been trained in many fields of martial arts. I know more about fighting than any fucking bitch in here.
"Alright men, take your bets, choose the best fighter!" The announcer proclaims and people begin betting immediately. The crowd apparently has no faith in me. Hmm, well I'll just have to show them what I'm all about now won't I?
People clear way for us to battle, we discard our shirts and shoes. He's got tight jeans on, that will limit how high he can kick. I have a pair of my work slacks on, not the best but looser and less restraining than jeans. The giant black man gives me a hand motion with his fingers to come at him. I let my body fall into a defensive stance.
It's like slipping into old skin. This is what I am. This is what I live for. I am a warrior and I thrive on the battlefield.
I'm not down playing my opponent yet. I don't know his moves, and he's ripped. But I doubt he has the knowledge and training I possess.
I make a false lunge. He sends his fist flying at my head. I block it with one hand and shove the palm of my free hand into his elbow. He grunts as we both fall back defensively. The crowd has disappeared, for me it's just myself and my opponent. This is what I've been missing. Adrenaline courses through my veins.
"You are a quick one," he says in that deep voice. I say nothing.
He throws another punch. I lean back to avoid it, grab his wrist, and let my leg fly to connect with his rib cage. He stumbles a little, but not much. Come on, you've gotta be better than this! We keep dancing around each other, punching and kicking, we both land shots.
Mmmpppff! His free hand landed a blow to the side of my head. Good, I don't want an uneven match. He looks stunned, I think he was expecting that hit to knock me out, but I'm stronger than he thinks.
One punch to the side of his stomach, I jump up to land another to the side of his head. He swings at me, but I block every blow. Ugh, this is almost unsatisfying. He's big, but he's slow. He depends on his might, no intelligence behind his fighting technique. Barton and Yuy had good fighting technique, even Maxwell. His was all street fighting, but he is smarter than he lets on. I never sparred with Winner.
I think I'll end this distasteful fight. I drop down, landing and balancing gracefully on my hands and swing both legs towards my opponents. I knock him over and onto the floor. Jumping up, I crouch over him and lay in a fury of vicious punches to both sides of his head. He falls unconscious quickly.
I force myself to stop even though I want to pummel his face until he's unrecognizable. I must stop, I must have control.
The basement is silent. As it should be, I just took down a man thrice my size. You all underestimated me, and that is your greatest mistake. The obese man steps forward again, "Well, we have a winner. What's your name?" He asks.
"My clan name is Chang. That's what you can call me," I respond. The crowd cheers even though the bet on my loss. They must like seeing the proverbial underdog win. So why don't I feel better about this? They're cheering around me, I feel the room spinning, they know now not to misjudge me. So why does this anger rise even now. Why am I just so damn unsatisfied?
It's Wednesday and shits no better today. I stick to my boring routine. I've tried getting a hold of that bitch Une, but every time I call I get her secretary. I just want this suspension bullshit over. I need to do something. I want to be back on the job. I'm bored and restless. Maybe I should call Sally...
I whip out my cellphone and dial her number. Come on, pick up already.
"Hello," she greets.
Suddenly I feel nervous and foolish for calling. "Hi Sally, it's Wufei," I say.
She chuckles, "Yeah, I know. What's up?"
"Nothing, I was just wondering if you've heard anything about when my suspension might be over?" I ask.
She sighs on the other end, "No, I haven't heard anything. I'm surprised Commander Une has kept you off duty for this long though."
"Yeah, me too," I gruff out.
There's a pause and then she asks, "How are you doing, Wufei?"
"Fine, I guess. Just really bored. Don't have much going on, you know?"
Sally laughs again, "You need a social life, hon."
I make a dismissive sound and roll my eyes. "Yeah sure, I'll get right on that."
Another pause, I'm not good with conversating."Why don't we meet up and have dinner somewhere? You sound like you could use the company."
"Uh, um, alright." Smooth Chang, real smooth.
"Alright then, how does Chucks Diner at six thirty sound?"
"That's fine by me. See you then," I hang up.
Dinner with Sally had been good. She filled me in on things I'd been "missing". We talked a lot and that felt nice. I even laughed a little. That felt really good. Maybe I do need more of a social life.
She noticed a bruise on my face and my scrapped up knuckles. I told her I sparred with someone from my gym. Admitting to being in an underground fight ring Tuesday night would not bode well for me. I kind of want to go back and do it again. At least until my suspension is lifted and I can go back to my normal life again.
Sally said she would talk to Une for me and try to get me back on duty, but that was before the incident occurred. Everything had been going fine until we left. As we were exiting the restaurant a man was entering and shoved Sally. She hadn't been hurt, but I still lost my cool. Ended up punching the guy in the stomach and screaming in his face. Sally had to drag me out.
She told me to get a grip on my rage before stalking off. I went back to my apartment.
So far today I haven't done much. I've decided to go back to the bar that houses the fights. Maybe a few rounds will help me feel better.
As I'm about to leave my apartment, my cell phone rings. It's Une!
"Hello Commander," I say calmly.
"Chang, I'm appointing you to guard duty. You're to be at Miss Peacecrafts estate Saturday evening at seventeen hundred hour. She's holding some sort of dinner affair, and you're to be assigned to her guard detail for the night."
"Alright." We hang up. Fucking guard detail? What do I look like, a damn babysitter? Whatever, it's better than nothing, I guess. If I want to make it to the bar I better go now.
The fights last night were better than the one I had my first night there. I fought in three separate rounds against three different men. The last had been the most satisfying. A man who actually knew how to battle, he had some technique that I recognize as training in Jiu Jitsu. I won all three fights and have quickly become the crowds favorite.
This time it actually helped me level out my stress and anger, along with the call from Une I had received earlier. I left the bar last night feeling great until I returned to my empty apartment.
Finally going to be back on duty - even if it's what I consider babysitting - is good. I'll have to prove my self-control over my rage, and I'll have to still meet with a therapist. Probably not Dr. Swarnson, I doubt she'd ever want to see my face again after the way I blew up at her. I don't want to see her either. I didn't like her, at all. But that's still no excuse for doing what I did.
No point on dwelling on it. Tomorrow I'll be at the Peacecraft manner keeping an eye out for danger while the politicians and business moguls enjoy their soirée.
When I arrived at Relena Peacecrafts home, I was greeted by her.
"I didn't know you'd be coming Wufei," she smiled at me.
I shook her hand. "It's good to see you Miss Peacecraft."
"Call me Relena, please," she insisted. "I'm glad you're here, even if it is for work. There will be a surprise for you, so I hope you will station yourself in the banquet hall."
"What so you mean a surprise?" I ask warily. I don't need any surprises on a job like this.
She chuckled, "You'll see." And then she left to prepare for the evening. "Enjoy the Hors d'oeuvres!" She called over her shoulder.
I did as she said to and stood guard at one end of the banquet hall, watching as politicians, diplomats, and business men filed in. It was rather dull, as I was expecting. That is, until I turned and saw Quatre walking towards me. I was shocked, and a little miffed that Relena didn't tell me he was attending tonight. I guess this is my surprise. I would have gone elsewhere if I knew one of my former comrades would be here.
"Hello Wufei," he greeted me with a smile that reached his blue eyes.
I nodded. "Winner."
"How are you? It's been a long time," he says while averting his gaze over to the small mass of people gathered at the other side of the banquet hall.
I shrug, "Fine, just working." I bury my bruised hands into my pockets. "How about yourself?" I ask.
His shoulders slump a bit as he speaks. "I'm doing fine, just working a lot as well." He's silent for a moment before asking, "Do you enjoy working with the Preventers?"
I bob my head. "Yes, it's very fulfilling." Until you're put on suspension, but I'm not about to tell this to him. Or about the little fighting club I've joined. "Do you like your position in your father's company?" I ask.
"Yes and no," he sighs. That's a surprise to me. I figured he'd enjoy it a lot. If there was a business owned by my family I would gladly work for it. But my family and my clan are dead, so here I am. "I don't enjoy the endless paperwork and meetings, or being in front of the camera for the media, but I do like thinking the work we do is good for people somewhere," he continued.
I ask, "So all you do is work?" I figured a guy like him would have more of a social life than me.
"Yes," he says. I guess I was wrong. He seems uncomfortable and changes the subject by asking, "Have you heard from the others?"
I straighten my back and reply, "No, have you?"
"No, you're the first one I've spoken to since our goodbyes here in Brussels a year and a half ago." Again, I find this intriguing. I would have expect him to stay I'm contact with at least Barton or Maxwell. "I did see Trowa though, yesterday," he informs.
"You didn't speak with him?" I ask eyeing him suspiciously.
He sighs, "No, I watched him perform with his circus briefly, and then left." A melancholy expression dawns on his features. Why does this make him sad, I wonder.
I clear my throat. "I should go look around the perimeter and check what's going on in the security room," I mumble my excuse to leave his presence.
"Okay," Winner extends his hand and we shake. He smiles at me as he says, "We should stay in touch Wufei. I've missed you." I nod in response. Guilt washes over me, but so does a twinge of happiness. It's nice that he still sees me as a comrade after all this time, and after all I did.
I leave him to the festivities and make my rounds. I avoid being in the banquet hall as much as possible. As nice as it was to see him, I would like to avoid further conversation, but at the same time I don't want to avoid him. We make eye contact a few more times across the room. At on point he held up his champagne glass and waved at me. I smirked, I think he's had too much to drink. A little while later I watch as he's dragged out to the hall by that freak named Dorothy Catalonia. He didn't seem pleased. After that I left to make another round, and didn't see him when I returned to the hall.
Relena approached me with a small smile. "Quatre said to tell you goodbye. He left in a bit of a hurry. I think the alcohol got to him."
I shrug. I wish he had stayed to say goodbye personally.
Reading the Sunday paper, I come a across and small article about a circus performer whom injured himself during a performance in front of a large crowd. I recognize the circus troupe as Barton's, I hope it wasn't him who is injured, though I couldn't really see him getting injured. He was always so flawless in his stunts.
I turn the page to continue reading the article, and holy shit! There's a picture of Trowa! He's the one that fell and got injured! I wonder if Quatre knows...
Wufei's underground fight club was inspired by - you guessed it - Fight Club