SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
ACT IX, PART I

 
 
Scene I: Ladies in Waiting

 
She was relieved when her mother left for an appointment. In denying Emily once and for all, Dorothy felt free... but that meant she was even more uncomfortable in the Duchess's presence then she had ever been before.

Blood didn't make a family- respect and love came into it as well. Duke Dermail had been her family; Emily Khushrenada Noventa was not. She'd never really realized it before, but her mother had never displayed a single ounce of concern for her, as a person. Dorothy had always been an item to her, something to be used to its best advantage. Dermail had been similar in that respect, but at least he had taken time to listen. He wouldn't have tried to force her into a political marriage against her will. She was positive of that..... wasn't she? The thought gave her a headache. If her grandfather hadn't loved her, that meant she'd been unloved her entire life. She refused to accept that.

It was late in the day when she finally came downstairs to break her fast. The endless hours of traveling had taken their toll on her, and she still felt about six time zones out of sync. She wanted to be alert when she put her foot into the political waters, and she knew she needed to catch up and be on top of current events. Quatre was going to be on trial shortly, and that would be where the battle would be.

There was more then one kind of battlefield, after all.

She had been taught to fight in all of them. This time, her weapons would be her wits, and her ability to manipulate other people- and she had learned at the foot of a master. Duke Dermail had all but ruled the world in everything but name before his death.

Could his granddaughter do any less?

She was a Catalonia. It was time she started to act like it.

"My lady?"

Dorothy turned to see her butler looking at her with a slightly hassled expression on his long face. "Yes, Swenson? Is something wrong?"

"You might like to watch the news," he suggested.

"Hmmm?" She yawned daintily, raising a hand to cover her mouth politely.

"My lady..." He seemed on edge.

"Fine." Swenson was one of the best- if something was upsetting him, then it would behoove her to listen to his advice. She walked to her sitting room and arranged herself comfortably on a settee. "Have the maid get me a cup of coffee," she ordered. Decent coffee had been one of the things she had missed most while on A007. The colony hadn't had time to adapt coffee beans to its poor soil, and the Preventers hadn't rated enough there to warrant the import of a decent brand. All they had was the standard military issue, and she thought it taste like someone must have soaked ancient socks in water to get that distinct flavor. She was a purist- she believed firmly that all coffee should be freshly ground. Needless to say, she had been rather crabby about that.

That and the lack of decent bathing facilities.

She pulled her feet underneath her, taking a sip of the bitter brew. "Cue World News Network, normal volume," she commanded.

The screen flicked and sprang to life, and Dorothy almost dropped her coffee. Preventer's Head Quarters, Geneva, was on fire. It looked like the film crew was shooting from the roof of a nearby-building. The gorgeous white and green base was showing small plumes of smoke. She felt like she was looking at a miniature that some tri-d producer had blown up for a film. It honestly couldn't be the base- right?

"Fuck!" she swore.

"-coming out of the base before a security seal was placed. There is at this time no indication who the attackers are. Casualties were reported before the lock-down was complete, but we don't have confirmation how many, or on which side."

The anchorman's voice cut across the reporter's. "There are many important people there at this time, correct? Any word on them?"

"None. As we all know, with the Winner hearings imminent, the Preventers have been playing host to some of the key players. Winner himself along with about six of his sisters are on base, along with Catherine Bloom, sister to Trowa Barton. General Po and General Une were also reported to be at Headquaters preparing for the trial. However, the largest concern at this time is for Queen Relena Darlian Peacecraft of Cinq.

"A shuttle was seen leaving base approximately ten minutes ago." The footage slid to half-screen, one side showing the live happenings, the others showing a shuttle leaving. "Preventers policy is to evacuate the ranking officer on base, so we can speculate that was General Une leaving." The footage went back to full screen.

"Mute audio," Dorothy commanded, watching the Preventers HQ burn. She had no doubt that the Preventers would force the attackers back, but the damage was done. They had been breached, and it was doubtful they'd ever be trusted again.

And Relena and Quatre were on base, possibly dead.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that- Quatre had once tried to see the best in her, and Relena had tried to be her friend. She had come to resolution with neither of them.... they didn't have the right to die until she was able to make up her mind. Noin had died before they had come to resolution; it wasn't fair for two other key players in her past to do the same!

An ironic smirk traced her lips. She sounded like a little girl, complaining about what was fair and what wasn't. Life wasn't fair, and she knew it. It was time to even the odds up a little. Stack the deck, so to speak.

"Rosalie?" she called.

The older woman appeared as though by magic, one second absent, the next present. Dorothy knew this was a quality of good servants- the ability to come and go like they were no more substantial then a heavy fog. "Yes, milady?"

"Can you get me a transport to Preventers? Say for half an hour? I need to get dressed..."

"Your unit was called in?"

"Technically all field units were called in.... and since my resignation hasn't officially been filed, I should report."

Useful, that. I'll be able to see what the hell is going on firsthand.

It was actually closer to an hour before she was ready to leave. Rosalie had forced a light meal on her, pointing out that she'd lost weight recently.... she hadn't been able to find the outfit she wanted to wear, so had to settle for a sundress that was entirely too casual for her tastes... and so forth. She hoped it wasn't an omen for how the rest of her day was going to go. Then her memory sparked, and she recalled the images of the base burning. Her problems were minor.

Driving to the compound was difficult- cars were being redirected all over the city, and the area around twenty blocks around the attack had been sectioned off. She'd finally been forced to send her driver home, and walked in. Her two-inch heels, while fashionable, weren't particularly comfortable, and she knew she'd wind up with the most uncomfortable set of blisters for her effort.

Within the two-block radius, she encountered checkpoint after checkpoint, having to verify herself by showing her ID and placing her palm on a scanpad. Luckily she was still listed as personnel... claiming diplomatic immunity wouldn't have worked, she was sure. She'd bet her eyeteeth that the Preventers were done playing with politicians. They'd played by the rules, and it had gotten them nowhere. Down and dirty was the new standard.

The closer she got, the more she was able to smell smoke, and the scent of battle. It wasn't something most people would recognize, but she was an experienced soldier. It was indescribable, really... a unique fragrance... an odor of decay and fire, smoke and spent ammunition, mixed with the loathsome aroma that was the scent of death.

She shivered as she reached the gatehouse. The squad looked at the lone woman who approached them, their looks firm and suspicious. "Dorothy Catalonia, vice commander under Colonel Milliard Peacecraft. Just back from assignment in A007."

"How the hell did you get back here so fast?" the one wearing the markings of a major demanded tactlessly.

"My shuttle arrived yesterday, before the attack. I hadn't yet arrived to give my report." Stretching the truth- she'd had no intention of ever giving one.

She was offered the scanpad, and her handprint passed, confirming that she was who she claimed to be. "Is there any word on Relena? Quatre? Une and Sally? And where's General Brown? The World News didn't say anything about him."

The major looked at her. "Brown is in Milan... on his way back. He was dealing with the bombing there. General Une has been evacuated to Bern and is setting up an interim HQ, and General Po is in command here. I don't know where Winner or Queen Relena are, but they weren't on the casualty lists. I'd guess temporary shelter."

She nodded her thanks and started onto the base. "Wait, Lady Dorothy. I'm going to have to assign you an escort."

Dorothy barely kept from rolling her eyes with frustration.

Another two hours passed before she was standing in front of the small conference room that had been claimed by Relena's security guards for her. She entered without knocking, wanting to get the drop on her old friend... rival... acquaintance? She wasn't sure what they were, but she wanted the advantage.

"Relena?"

The Queen of Cinq looked like she had aged ten years. Soot was smeared almost artistically on her pale skin, and her blue eyes seemed dark with concern and secrets. Her hair was falling out of her carefully done braids, and there was a tear in her pale blue skirt. She should have looked rumpled, but she didn't. Somehow her carriage still made her look like the Queen she was. "Dorothy? What are you doing here? And why did they let you on base?" she asked. Relena's eyes were exhausted, but the steel in them gave Dorothy hope.

"I'm still on the books as a Preventer operative, and Milliard's second in command. It was easy enough to flash those credentials... I'm here to offer you a place at my townhouse." She tossed her hair, sending her it flying like a banner in the breeze.

Relena's mouth formed a slight "o" of surprise. "Dorothy?"

Dorothy felt herself soften. "I know we haven't always agreed, but we have been friends, no matter what. I respect you, and I hope you hold me in some regard. The Preventers have proven they can't protect themselves, much less one of the foremost politicians of the time. My house is quite secure, and I doubt anyone would look there for you, especially considering your political differences with my mother."

The pretty Queen looked as though Dorothy had taken a two-by-four to her head. "You want me to come stay with you?"

Dorothy gave her a smile that seemed to be almost shy. "I care for you, Relena. I want you to be safe. Heero Yuy isn't the only one who recognizes what a precious gift you are to the world."

"I don't know-" Relena hedged, and Dorothy didn't have to be a mind-reader to know the other girl was thinking about what had happened between them during the war.

"I took a look in the mirror recently, and I decided I didn't like the woman I was becoming," Dorothy said, staring out the window at the gathering darkness. "She was weak, willing to be controlled - but I didn't like the woman I had been, either. She had no friends, and was obsessed with the past. She was... frightening. So I decided it was time to turn over a new leaf, as they say.

"Don't expect me to change too much- I still think that war is necessary. It's a part of our natures, and suppressing that drive is unnatural. Still, it doesn't mean that I don't like the idea of peace- it's something we all should work towards. Peace can be achieved, however temporary it may be, and each time we reach that balance, we have bettered ourselves. Without darkness, there can be no light. Without war, there can be no peace. There is equilibrium, and it is up to us to achieve it."

Relena blinked. "I believed in absolute pacifism... the idea that war is unnecessary. Lately, though... I've started to wonder. The world isn't black and white. It's all shades of gray, and there are no absolutes... so that means the philosophy of Absolute Pacifism is flawed even in its name. I am a pacifist... I will work to ensure that war isn't necessary... but I won't condemn those who fight when they believe every other option is exhausted."

"So come with me," Dorothy urged. "We can work together on figuring out how to get Quatre off these ridiculous charges."

"I - I... the Preventers have the place under lockdown. We can't leave."

Dorothy snorted. "Like they'll actually have the nerve to stop the Queen of Cinq from doing what she wants to.... If it comes down to it, claim diplomatic immunity. You're a Head of State- they have to give you some leeway."

Relena shivered slightly to herself, and seemed to make a decision. "Would you have room for one more?"

"Who?" Dorothy asked suspiciously. She honestly didn't want to put up with Heero Yuy. He could be such a self-righteous prig, and arguing with him would only irritate or possibly even alienate Relena.

"Catherine Bloom. I don't want to abandon her here."

Dorothy pursed her lips. "That's rather interesting company you're keeping." Of course, Relena always did seem to make unusual friends.

"You'll like her. She tells it like she sees it."

"But will we agree?" Dorothy asked curiously. She wondered what it would be like to be the older sister of Trowa Barton- a sibling of a Gundam pilot, particularly the one who accused her of being unable to cry. He had been wrong- the last weeks had proven that.

Relena started to laugh, and her laughter was genuine. "I doubt it. But I can practically guarantee it'll be interesting."

Dorothy giggled, sounding like the teenager her age proclaimed her to be. "And isn't that what's life all about?"

Relena gave a laugh, and then hooked her elbow through Dorothy's. "It's part of it, certainly!" she said, not wanting this moment to end. The world was going to hell, people were dying all around them, but Relena -not Queen Relena, just Relena- was connecting on a personal basis with someone. It was the second time in a week, and she intended to seize it.

A small squad of Preventers surrounded the two young women as they moved to the temporary shelters. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of blood, smoke and spent bullets.

In the chaos following the attack, Catherine was amazed to find two Preventer security agents assigned to her, of all people. The Preventers were busy trying to shift their center of operations to Bern, manage the cleanup of the Geneva facilities, and they still had the resources to give her guards? It was a mystery- she didn't think of herself as that important. Apparently someone high up did, though.

She had been speaking with a young Preventer airman about nothing consequential when the attack had happened. The flickering of the lights had worried them both, but it wasn't until Lady Une's calm demand for evacuation had come over the speakers did they both know that something had gone seriously wrong. To the airman's credit, he had immediately reacted to the alarm, hustling her to the nearest shelter before drawing his sidearm to report to his station.

The two terrifying hours she had spent locked inside the bomb shelter would go down as some of the worst in her life. The shelter, despite its fluorescent lighting, had seemed appallingly dim, and the other civilians who had been unlucky enough to be caught on base at the time were terrified.

Who had dared attack the Preventers in their stronghold? And why?

What did the distant explosions mean?

Who would be the one to open the doors? The Preventers... or the terrorists?

A few of the people in the shelter bore minor wounds, as they hadn't been able to get out of the line of fire quickly enough. These people told of heavy gunfire, people strapped to the gills with explosives and dead man's switches, the Preventers pushing them back, but vital areas still being breached. They huddled together, perfect strangers bonded by one of the most primal of human emotions: fear.

Catherine was concerned, but a part of her scorned the way people seemed to act as though the world were ending. Yes, the situation was desperate, and yes, they were in danger, but this was small time. She has lived through the Wars of AC 195, and remembered what it had been like to be dancing the dagger's edge between life and death. These civilians on base obviously were politicians and members of the upper class, and had never faced personal danger. Maybe it would be good for them.

It had taken close to three hours before the Preventers once again pronounced their base secure. The bunker had become more and more cramped, and Catherine had, at one point, only refrained from yelling at people for being gibbering idiots by biting down on her tongue.

Stupid people sucked, in her opinion. And there were far too many of them in the world.

She still hadn't been able to shake her team, despite her assurances that should would be quite fine, thank you. She'd at least convinced one of the men to give her a couple of knives to protect herself. The balance on the blades was wrong for throwing, but she felt more comfortable.

The base wasn't safe, and due to her relationship with Trowa, many people wanted her dead. Such a comforting thought... They'd moved her to the temporary shelter and placed heavy guards on her, and she was almost out of her mind with boredom. The small room had no vid screen, and all she had on her person to amuse herself was the aforementioned knives. She was sure the Preventers weren't going to be happy with the holes she was putting in the wall with her ill-balanced blades (she only hit her target every other time, something that didn't make her happy), but she figured they had it coming. It was their own fault for locking her in a small closet with nothing to do.

Morons.

She knew she should be more charitable, but at that moment, she wanted nothing to do with politics or war or Gundams. She just wanted her brother back, dammit, and to be doing their Dance of Daggers.

The doorbell rang, and the door swung inwards almost immediately after. "Catherine?"

The voice was familiar. She spun around and gave Relena a tight hug, ignoring the girl beside her. "I'm glad you're all right! No one had any idea if you were okay!"

"I went to shelter three as soon as I could. Do you know Dorothy Catalonia?" Relena gestured with a hand, and the girl with white-blonde hair came forward.

"I've saw you on the news during the wars, milady," she said, dropping an awkward curtsey. She had no clue what Dorothy's proper rank or title was.

Dorothy waved the formality away with a negligent flick of her fingers. "Just Dorothy, Catherine. If you can call Relena by her name, you can certainly do the same for me."

She nodded, relieved that their conversation was going to be as equals. "I didn't know you were on base."

"I just got back from a mission where I was given a commission with the Preventers," Dorothy answered. "I used it to get on base so I could invite Relena to stay with me until the base has been repaired, or she decides to relocate elsewhere. She suggested I extend the invitation to you as well; my townhouse is quite secure, and I doubt anyone would be expecting to find you there."

Whatever she had been expected, this wasn't it. "That- that's very kind of you.... I-"

The doorchime sounded again, but this time the person on the other end was apparently content to wait. "Come in!" Catherine called after a second.

In stumbled a young man with a long braid, one that was eerily familiar to all three of them. His clothes were dark-colored, and Catherine's sharp eyes caught the hints of recently dried blood on his t-shirt. He looked bedraggled and sorrowful. "Cat?" he called, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting.

"Duo?!" the three young woman exclaimed in unison.

He blinked in confusion, but then seemed to focus. "Ojousan? Dorothy? What are you doing here?"

"Talking," Dorothy said crisply. "We can ask the same of you."

"I came to get Catherine... I didn't remember you were on base until just now."

"Get me?" she asked in confusion.

"Trowa's in the hospital with a concussion. I think you should be there..."

 
Scene II: The Sun Rises in the East

 
It was almost two 'o clock in the morning when Wufei returned from the clean up effort at the base's north gate to the temporary housing that had been set up for base residents. He had ash and dust on his face and his clothes, a small bloodstain where he had cut himself trying to lift a particularly recalcitrant piece of concrete, and bruises on his left side from where a metal rod had accidentally fallen on him when he had been trying to get out of the way of an incoming truck. Machida Varis had driven him back to the housing in his truck, bade him good night, then sped away back to the south entrance, where the larger clearing effort was taking place.

He wanted to continue to help, but he knew his limits and he wasn't about to risk getting sick again. The shots that the medics had given him in the afternoon would tide him over until tomorrow, but they'd cautioned him against unnecessary physical activity. And he was pretty sure that lifting heavy objects and having metal poles fall on him would be considered unnecessary physical activity.

The foyer was still brightly lit and the roar of conversation was pleasant to his ears. He'd never thought he would find conversation pleasant, but it was strangely comforting to hear voices raised in debate, in laughter, in worry. Even the little girl crying in the far corner of the room by the darkened receptionist's desk was uplifting. It meant that they were alive...that he was still alive.

The office was a standard base office - probably for personnel or services, judging from the pictures on the walls and the neat paper-pusher atmosphere and comfortable couches lining the lounge area. There were two hallways leading back into the main building from the foyer, one on each side of the receptionist's booth, and both hallways were brightly lit. Most of the doors were open and there were voices coming from inside. A man appeared outside one of the doors, dragging a mattress down the hall. A baby began to cry.

He recognized the atmosphere. In the aftermath of a tragedy like this one, people would not be concerned about their own welfare - it was help your neighbor or feel utterly alone. Pitching in gave people a sense of accomplishment, of companionship.

It had been hard for him to accept at first that he needed the other pilots...but he had come to realize that he did. More than he had ever imagined.

"You like it?"

The voice behind him made him jump before he realized that he was looking into the smiling face of Sally Po. For a moment he blinked, taking her in. Even though he'd been on base for two days, he hadn't seen her until now, and she looked older, more worn. Her honey-colored hair was done up in French braids, pulled safely out of the way, and her uniform was wrinkled. What startled him was that he was taller than her now. She'd always been the taller one, the older one, but now he was looking down on her. It was rather unnerving.

"Two years, and I don't get a hello?"

He couldn't help but grin and bow slightly to her. "It's nice to see you again, Sally."

"You liar," she said, but there were tears in her eyes and before he could react, she had drawn him close in a tight, quick hug. "You've certainly grown," she said, releasing him and looking him up and down the same way he had sized her up earlier. "I hardly recognize you."

"Liar," Wufei returned. "You recognized me from the back."

"Yes, well...those clothes aren't exactly nondescript." She gestured to his blue tank top and flared white pants, the same clothing style he had favored during the war, and he shrugged.

"They're the most comfortable thing I own. I was in the hospital, you know."

Her face was dark. "They told me. I was trying to find all of you when the lights went out...if any of you were hurt or killed, I'd never forgive myself."

"All of us?" Her words took a moment to sink in, and then he grabbed her. "You mean the rest of the pilots are here?"

She winced and he realized he was holding her arm in a deathgrip, loosened his hold. "Yes," she said softly, and for the first time he realized that many of the people in the foyer were staring at them strangely. He didn't blame them. It wasn't every day that you got a Preventers general and a Gundam pilot in the same room having a serious conversation.

"Sorry," he said quickly, but she shook her head.

"Actually, I'm glad I found you. I...need to talk to you. Will you be around?"

He shrugged. "I was planning on going to sleep, but I don't know how these living arrangements work...?"

"Come with me," she ordered, pushing past the people crowding the room, nodding politely to those who offered her a greeting. It was odd, he realized after a moment of watching her, because he'd never seen Sally as a figure of command. She'd always been just Sally, a fellow soldier, in his mind, but apparently she was now something more. She was a figure of hope, and she knew it. Her movements were sure, her voice crisp and clear. She had told him once that she didn't want to be in charge, but now Wufei could see that she was used to command. Used to it, and she liked it.

He didn't know what to make of the new Sally.

She took the right hallway and he followed her, glancing curiously inside the open doors. "We've converted these offices into a shelter of sorts," Sally said, seeing his gaze. "The enlisted dorms weren't touched, but we don't dare move people back into the officers' quarters or the VOQ without a thorough investigation, so all of you are going to be squished for a few days."

"Is there a system of sorts?" he wondered, and she nodded.

"Alphabetical by family, basically. Most families have their own rooms, though there are a few who have had to share and some that we just had to stick in the lobbies. We've set up a headquarters in the building next door, since the main tower is most definitely off limits to us right now." She laughed. "Funny, I feel like a refugee on my own base."

"What about the pilots? Where are they?"

"We've moved Quatre and his family into the end room...it's a conference room, so it's big. They'll need all the privacy they can get. Duo's probably holed up somewhere if he's not with his Gundam."

"Gundam?"

Sally looked tired. "He brought Wing Zero and Deathscythe back with him. They're in one of the hangars."

"I...see," he said, a little stunned. Why would Duo...?

"The other pilots are in the next building over, but I'd suggest you don't try to talk to any of them right now."

He gave her a hard glance. "Why?"

"Duo and Quatre...both lost someone in the attack. I'm sure they're trying to deal with it alone right now. I'd give them some privacy. As for Trowa..." she trailed off. "Well, all I have to say that the hospital seems like a popular place for all of you. He's in there with a concussion. I believe his sister is sitting up with him."

"Catherine's here?" Wufei demanded. "When?"

"She got here last week." Stopping in front of a closed door. "This'll be your room...it's just down the hall from Quatre's." She gestured to another closed door at the end of the hallway before unlocking his. The door swung open and he peered inside at a room that seemed to be part office, part broom closet. "I know it's not much, but there's a lock on the door and it's as much as I can manage. We're a little cramped right now."

He smiled and she blinked at him, evidently taken aback. "I'll be fine, Sally."

She nodded once before stepping back. "I have to run to the office...Une is supposed to call in about three minutes. Can I...meet you later?" Again the hesitation. Something was bothering her.

"Of course. I'll...Actually, could you meet me in the hangar?"

He could tell Sally was surprised, but she simply nodded. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

He watched her go and then looked towards Quatre's door, wondering exactly who had died in the attack. One of his sisters? He winced, wondering who Duo had lost. Wondered where Heero was for a moment before deciding that he should let the Wing pilot spend some time alone without Wufei breathing down his neck trying to supervise him.

Heero Yuy doesn't exist anymore. Even if you look, he won't be there. I'm the only thing that's left.

He would never give up on Heero...but at the same time he wasn't sure if anything he did would ever be any good. The Japanese boy was haunted by more demons than Wufei could probably ever know, and he wasn't sure if what he was doing was helping...or hurting. Maybe it was both.

Heero would talk to him when he was ready. Maybe that would never happen, but Wufei had done what he could do, and it wasn't his place to bring someone back from the dead. There had been enough people dead because of him.

He retraced his steps through the hallway out to the lobby and then left the building, hailing a passing truck and climbing in. The soldiers didn't ask questions, obviously recognizing him and glad to oblige. There were certain instances when he didn't mind being a hero. The guards at the barricade checkpoint didn't ask questions either, simply waved them on through towards the north entrance, which was looking decidedly better than it had two hours ago.

"Back again?" said the section chief as the truck pulled up and Wufei jumped out. "Thought we sent you off to take a break."

Wufei bowed slightly. "I'm here to see the Gundams," he said. "Could you tell me which hangar they're in?"

The chief nodded sagely, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Of course. Last hangar on the west side."

"I can be back later to-" Wufei began, but the chief laughed.

"You've done enough, young man. Thanks anyway."

Wufei bowed again and jogged towards the far hangar. The flightline was eerily quiet, and the few craft which were still left out in the open had been pulled to the side and covered with camouflage netting. He almost missed them the first time, almost bumped into one of them before he saw the hulking shape underneath the black concealing cover.

The hangar was dark as well, with two mobile suits and three guards standing in front of the door. He suddenly had doubts as to whether they'd even let him in - he was a Gundam pilot, but those weren't his Gundams. He was still deliberating whether to go on when one of the soldiers noticed him.

"Hey! What're you doing?"

Wufei approached cautiously, bowing. "I'm sorry, but I heard that Duo Maxwell brought two of the Gundams with him, and I was wondering...?" He trailed off, noticing the looks of awe on the soldiers' faces.

"That's him!" He heard one of them whisper. "The Shenlong pilot!"

"Ah...I-" He began, but the guard commander waved to the mobile suits and they stepped aside, exposing the entrance. The commander pressed a button and the door cracked open slightly, just enough to allow a human to pass under.

"Mr. Chang?"

He looked over at the leftmost guard, who held his rifle with expert ease but whose young face marked him about the same age as Wufei. "What is it?" he said, keeping his voice level.

"I was...I was a soldier, aboard the Peacemillion." Gazing at him with wide eyes. Wufei suddenly felt embarrassed.

"I really wasn't-" he said, but the soldier shook his head quickly.

"I just wanted to say that I...that we really admired you, sir. That we still do. For all that you did...I guess you must feel really swamped on all sides right now, with the World Nation on your back and all. But I...I wanted to let you know...I'm on your side. We all are, you know?"

Wufei blinked for a moment, then murmured a quiet acknowledgment, bowing to the guards before ducking through the half-open hangar door. It made him uncomfortable, those honest assurances of loyalty. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate them, but it made him feel ashamed to be involving these soldiers in something beyond their control.

After all, if he hadn't been here - if the Gundam pilots had not been on base, if the Preventers had not taken their side - the terrorists might have never attacked.

The hangar was lit by two bleak spotlights in the far corner and it was empty except for the two Gundams standing like silent giants in the gloom. He felt his breath hitch involuntarily, feeling a sense of déjà vu wash over him as he walked slowly towards the great machines. Remembering the way it had been, the way it no longer was.

Is this how it will be from now on, Nataku? Will the endless cycle of war and destruction continue over again? Was his death not enough?

Without knowing why he did so, he picked up his pace, walking quickly towards Wing Zero, feeling something about its intimidating bulk beckon to him in the shadows. Two years ago he would have avoided this Gundam like the plague, but now the Zero system seemed distant, a child's ghost story that he had outgrown, something that he had moved past and which could no longer hurt him. He put his hands on the cold metal and hoisted himself up the left leg, shimmying up the crooked right arm and onto the Gundam's shoulder.

He was sitting there, lost in thought, when Sally found him.

"Wufei?"

Her gentle questioning voice brought him out of his reverie and he jumped, then saw her standing there gazing up at him, frowning a bit.

"What are you doing?"

He waved an absent hand. "Just...thinking. I didn't hear you come in."

"May I join you?"

"Oh...oh, sure. Come on up."

It wasn't till that she had seated herself comfortably next to him with her legs swinging over the side of the Gundam's shoulder that he looked over at her again.

"You know what I just realized?"

"What?"

He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "That I kind of missed this. Sitting here in the hangar, just me and the Gundams, just thinking. I guess there were good times too, weren't there? That it...that it wasn't all bad memories."

She shook her head silently and he noticed a small smile on her lips. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just that you've changed."

He sighed. "You keep saying that. It's not like you've remained static either. I'm taller than you now. Did you notice?"

"It's not only that, Wufei," she interrupted him gently. "You seem...more confident. More sure of yourself. It seems like you've grown up...I came to give you a lesson, but now it seems like maybe you're the one to give me that lesson."

He looked sharply at her. "Lesson?"

Sally cocked her head to the side. In the dim light, her face was shadowed and he could see her Western features clearly: the long nose, the delicate eyebrow ridges that pureblooded Chinese lacked. Her hair shone faintly in the spotlights. She looked very comfortable, he realized. Comfortable and confident, as if she'd found a cause worth following.

"Well?" she said.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to lecture me? About how women shouldn't be trying to tell men what to do? About how you don't need anyone to tell you what to do anyway?"

He winced. "You know, whenever I said that, I didn't mean half of it. It was just-"

"I know," Sally said. "I know. It never ceased to amaze me, though, just how hardheaded you could be."

"It's been two years," he responded softly. "People change. I've changed."

"I've noticed," she said dryly.

"I thought that I didn't have what it took to survive. To live a normal life...but finding Heero changed that, somehow. I had a purpose again." He shook his head. "As strange as it may sound coming from me, Heero gave me hope."

"Then will you listen to what I have to say?"

"Say it."

She was silent for a moment, then stretched, weaving her fingers together above her head and looking over at him. "We had one of these conversations before. That night after the last battle, in the hangar on the Peacemillion. I asked you who Nataku was. Why you fought for her. Do you remember that?"

"I remember," he said shortly, sensing his self-defense mechanisms kick in. "You asked me if I was afraid of the truth. What about it?"

"Well, are you?"

He hadn't expected that question and he glanced at her in surprise to find her looking at him with all seriousness. "Am I?"

"I'm asking you," she retorted. "I've been waiting two years for an answer, Chang Wufei, and I thought that since you'd grown up a bit, you'd be more inclined to answer."

The brash retort was on the tip of his tongue that no, he wasn't afraid of anything and that she should mind her own business when he bit it back, swallowed it. It wasn't fair to her...she'd been waiting two years for him to come back, waited two years for a boy she considered more than an equal, if not a friend, while he hadn't even thought of her. They had never been extremely close, but he respected her and he knew she respected him. She deserved better.

"I don't know," he said. "I thought..." He laughed. "Two years ago I thought I could do anything. I thought...well, I thought that I was right and the rest of the world could go to hell as far as I cared, because as long as justice was served, it didn't matter."

"You don't believe in justice anymore? You don't believe in fighting for a cause?"

"I do, but..." he trailed off, pulling his long ponytail over his shoulder and playing with it idly. "Until a few weeks ago I still believed that I had been right and that it was the rest of the world that had turned against me. So I hid. I hid because I believed I had been wronged."

"I know how that feels," Sally said and he glanced at her again. There was an undercurrent of bitterness in her voice that he hadn't remembered hearing before. She didn't look at him as she spoke. "I fought in the war for my country...for China, for the country that up till then wouldn't - couldn't - consider me one of its own. Because I didn't look like the rest of them. Because I didn't look like you."

"You thought that they had wronged you," Wufei said.

"I remember telling you that day in the forest a long time ago...when you asked me why we were fighting an enemy that we knew we couldn't defeat...that it was because somebody had to do it. But that wasn't the only reason I fought. I fought because I loved my country, even if she didn't love me."

"I think she did love you," he returned.

"And why is that?"

He turned to look at her. "Because China is like that. Because she loves all the sons and daughters who come back to her. Even people like you and me, who have no home."

The corner of her lip twisted in a smile. "You still haven't answered my question."

"What?"

"If you're afraid of the truth."

He stared into the darkness, thinking of Treize. Thinking about how he had spent the last two years hiding from himself and from Meilan and from the new world he had helped build, because he was ashamed. Thinking about how it hadn't done him any good in the end, because all it had done for him was to instill even more deeply in himself the sense of failure, of weakness, of regret. Thinking about how it was time to end the cycle of self-penance.

"Well," he said slowly. "I came back, didn't I?"

There was a long silence. "That same time...you told me that you were a coward. Because you could only defeat those weaker than yourself."

He took a deep breath, let it out again. "Why are you bringing this up, Sally? And don't tell me it's just that you're glad to see me, either, because this isn't the kind of thing you're supposed to say to a long lost friend who you haven't seen for two years."

"You're right," she agreed, "it's not. It's the kind of thing I'd say to a man who has come back and who has decided to be a warrior again."

He couldn't find anything to say to that, so he said nothing.

"Remember what you're fighting for," she whispered to him. He felt her smile. "I'll always believe in you, Chang Wufei. Is it too much of me to ask the same of you in return?"

"To believe in you?" He met her gaze, read the pain and the uncertainty mirrored there under the confidence. He smiled back. "I've always believed in you, Sally. You know that. Even when I was ashamed of myself, even when I thought I couldn't trust anyone else around me, I've believed in you."

He felt her grab his hand and squeeze it tightly before dropping it and standing. "I have to get back to the office. It's going to be a long night. Are you going to be all right?"

"I'll be fine," he said. "I think...I'll stay here for a while longer. Take care of yourself. I'll come by later."

"Remember what I said," she whispered, and was gone into the darkness.

The lights seemed to flicker and dim as he lay back, feeling the warmth of the spot that she had just vacated, staring at the steel beams in the ceiling of the hangar.

I came back, didn't I?

"I don't know if that's enough, Nataku," he mused, pillowing his head on his arms and closing his eyes, envisioning her face in his mind. "I'm still a coward at heart, whatever Sally says...I'm just less of one than I was two years ago."

He thought he heard her laugh, thought he saw her smile at him before her image flitted away and he took a deep breath, let it out slowly and let his mind drift. He was so tired. He'd just rest his eyes for a bit before hitching a ride back to the living area. They'd never miss him anyway, and Sally knew where he was...

Because China is like that. Because she loves all the sons and daughters who come back to her.

That night he dreamed that he was standing on the beach with the water lapping at his toes and the seagulls crying and that he was watching the sun rise over the ocean and there was something else rising with it...a flashing sword ascending out of the depths, sparkling like a thousand lights on the water.

 
Scene III: Returning to the Beginning

 
The temporary main office was a mess, and when Dermand Etille stepped inside the front door and started to inquire about General Une's whereabouts, the harried receptionist simply stared at him, told him to sit down, shut up, and wait. So he did.

His shuttle had touched down on the VIP pad half an hour earlier, but he'd heard about the attack on the headquarters yesterday, via the ever-helpful World Nation news. They hadn't shown much footage, most of it too classified to risk falling into the hands of the media, no doubt, but what they had shown made him wince. He'd seen worse, but for a mere terrorist attack, the damage that had been done would take weeks to repair, not to mention that there would probably be some serious psychological trauma on the part of those who the headquarters was supposed to be protecting.

No place was safe. That was what the attack had taught the Preventers...at least what he hoped it had taught them. An old soldier like him could reiterate the phrase a thousand times, but it took something like this to drum it into their heads.

He'd stayed the night in Europe after delivering Milliard Peacecraft to his estate, had been planning to go visit his family and stay another night when he'd heard the news that night as he sat in his hotel room in Spain. He was still tempted to stay. They didn't technically need him at the headquarters, but the call of duty was too strong to ignore, so he'd called his family and told them that he couldn't make it, then flown straight from Galicia to Geneva the next morning. It had taken half an hour for them to clear him for landing, but he supposed such precautions were necessary in the light of yesterday's attack. He had been lucky they'd agreed to check out his credentials at all.

He heaved a sigh, shifting in the uncomfortable padded chair. The receptionist didn't seem to notice that he was alive, much less inquire about what he wanted. He was pretty sure she hadn't heard him the first time. He cleared his throat quietly but she didn't look up, simply spun her chair around and closed the window. He could hear the clacking of her keyboard from inside.

As he was about to get up and rap on her plastic window, the door to the office opened and in walked a pretty, young blond carrying a stack of datacards in her right arm and a sheaf of papers in her left. Perhaps walked wasn't the right word - it was more like half sprint, half powerwalk. Whatever the case, he stared for a moment before realizing that the pretty, young blond, who couldn't be more than twenty-two at the most, was wearing brigadier general rank.

Une's second in command was a Brigadier General...Po? He remembered seeing holos of her during the war, and she looked a little older and much more worn and tired, but it was the same woman.

"General Po!"

She stopped in midtrack, swung her head towards him with a harried look, then frowned. The cast of her face was definitely Asian, but her features spoke of mixed blood. She looked haggard. "Did you need something?"

He bowed slightly, remembering the Asian custom. "I was actually here to see General Une, ma'am, but if you could just tell me where she is, I won't bother you. You look rather busy."

She blinked at him. "General Une's not here at the moment."

"She's not?" Oh. Of course not. There'd been an emergency...she had probably been evacuated.

"Who are you?" she demanded, shifting the stack of datacards to her left hand and looking him up and down irritably.

"I'm Dermand Etille...back from A007?" He didn't know how much Po would know about the situation on the colony, though as second-in-command he would expect Une to have kept her up to speed.

Her face cleared. "Oh!" She looked like she was about to say something else, then stopped and beckoned to him a little impatiently. "Here, come with me. We'll talk in my office."

She did not glance at the receptionist as she passed, though Etille noticed the receptionist looking up just as they entered the hallway and standing belatedly. "Your receptionist seems a little out-of-sorts," he remarked.

She snorted. "She volunteered. I don't think she knows what's she's doing, but as long as the phones get answered and I get the messages and there's someone to reroute calls, I don't care. My regular operator is in the hospital with a bullet in her leg, and Une's was evacuated along with her and the command staff."

Which was why Po had said that Une was not here. That made sense. Score one point for Une. "To Bern, I suppose?"

"Right."

Po's office was a small converted conference room at the end of the right-hand hallway. On one end of the long wooden conference table was a computer, vidscreen, and field intercom, which was hooked up to a master control system in the corner by the room's only wall sockets. He didn't think he'd ever seen so many wires and surge protectors. Another computer, probably a server of some sort, sat humming in the far left corner, hooked up to two secondary servers. Other than that, the room looked bleak and bare. There was a large, boarded up window on the right wall, behind the general's chair. On the left wall on the other side were two light maps: one of the base and one of Western Europe, both of which seemed to have frozen in mid-motion. An INTERNAL ERROR PLEASE REBOOT message was blinking over the tiny suspended dots which represented buildings, people, and vehicles.

Po grumbled something under her breath and dropped the datacards and papers in a disorganized heap on the other end of the table, nearly tripping over the wires in her haste to get to her computer. She rapidly keyed in a string of the commands and both maps blinked, the error messages vanishing. The dots started moving again.

"Cheap things," she said, sounding apologetic. "They do that at least once every hour."

He inclined his head politely, waited until she'd finished reconfiguring the maps and then watched as she collapsed into her chair in front of the computer.

"General, if I'm interrupting something, I'm more than willing to come back at a later time."

She looked up at him as if she had forgotten he was there. "Oh...no...sit down, please." Waving her hand at the datacards. "And could you scoot those over to the computer for me? Thanks."

He took a seat in a chair next to her, waiting as she steepled her fingers in front of her and took a deep breath. "It's been hectic around here. I'm sorry I can't offer you a more elaborate reception, Commander. It is Commander, isn't it?"

"For what it's worth, yes."

Po raised an eyebrow. "Oh really. Explain?" Her voice was the voice of a professional, faintly questioning. She sounded disinterested and detached, but he had no doubt that before this audience was over, she'd have dug out every bit of information she wanted out of him, deconstructed and then reconstructed him in her mind to find out exactly what made him tick. He'd forgotten how Federation and OZ soldiers seemed to have a knack for doing that.

He smiled. "I'm a relic, General. It's a new military now, and the rank, just like my authority and position, seem to have fallen by the wayside."

"Very true." She didn't indicate which part of his statement she was responding to. "So why are you here?"

"Une contacted me after...Noin's death. Asking me to come back to Earth. She indicated that I would be helpful to have on her staff, especially with the Gundam crisis going on, so I came in answer to her call. Unfortunately, I seem to have missed her."

Po nodded slightly. Her computer pinged and she glanced over, clicked something before looking back at him. "She was evacuated right when the attack started. She wrote the regulations herself...a good thing to have done, I think, or we might have had another New Edwards if things got bad enough. Which they never did, thank goodness - the terrorists never really got past the main gate and personnel center."

"I heard about it on the news last night in Spain," he offered. "There weren't a lot of images and hardly any information, obviously - I'm sure you and Une want to keep the details as confidential as possible."

There was a short silence before she spoke. He knew she wanted to ask him about what he had been doing in Spain and what he'd been doing since Noin's death four days ago, for that matter, but for some reason she didn't. That surprised him somewhat, but he kept his mouth shut.

"It's a shame," she said at last, quietly, drumming her fingers lightly on the keyboard. "We're in a deep enough mess as it is, politically. Then something like this happens. I'd hate to be Une at the moment. We're going to have a hell of a lot of clean-up work to do."

"The World Nation won't let this go."

"No they won't." She sighed. "Which is hardly my biggest concern at the moment. I don't give a damn what the World Nation thinks. It wouldn't surprise me if they'd sent the terrorists themselves."

Her bitter tone surprised him. He'd known that Une wasn't terribly fond of the World Nation, and neither Milliard nor Noin had been either, but Po seemed to be putting that sentiment into a more extreme form. "You don't seem to like the World Nation much," he said mildly.

She snorted. "I'll refrain from further comment, but no, I really don't. They claim that the Gundam pilots ordeal is purely political, but they've been hiding as far from it as possible, downright refusing to accept responsibility - blaming the military instead. In my opinion, they got us into this mess and I have yet to see them lift a single finger to get us back out." She fixed him with a challenging stare. "Tell me, Dermand Etille, what do you think of the World Nation? You were in the resistance forces on A007, weren't you?"

He chuckled quietly. "Depends on what you mean by 'resistance.' Both sides were resistance fighters, but I just happened to be on the side that was actually supporting the World Nation." Her nostrils flared slightly, but he held up a hand. "Which doesn't mean I supported the World Nation by any means. They were the ones who shipped me out to that dustball of a colony anyway. But I didn't agree with the philosophies of the anti-World Nation faction, so that made me an enemy. And a World Nation ally, I suppose, though I confess I'm a little uneasy to be known as such."

The challenging stare remained, but her posture seemed to have softened slightly. She looked him over a moment more, and Etille felt the uncomfortable sensation that she regarded him as just one more specimen to be studied under the microscope.

"I appreciate you coming out here, Commander," Po said, suddenly all crisp business again. She still looked tired, but there was none of the anger and resentment that she'd communicated a few seconds ago. He couldn't help thinking that she would have made a damn good politician if she hadn't chosen the military for a career.

"Thank you, General. I was wondering if you'd require my services?"

She laughed. "We need all the help we can get. You're here now and there's no escape. Actually..." she turned back to her monitor, fingers flying on the keyboard. "I'm expecting a transmission from Une this afternoon. I wonder if you'd care to join me? She might have had instructions for you."

"Of course." She smiled and he couldn't help but curve his own lips in return, noticing how her slanted Asian eyes looked almost incongruous, yet strangely fitting, in her otherwise Western face. "Meanwhile, where would you like me? As you said, there's no escape, so I might as well plunge to my doom."

Po laughed. "You're certainly eager, Commander. Your specialty...special forces? Intelligence?"

"More on the special forces side," he corrected her. "Though I did do my share of information harvesting when I was in White Fang and on A007. But I'm much more of a hands-on type person."

She grinned outright, looking relieved. "Excellent! Our Special Forces commander was evacuated to Bern last night along with about a third of the forces, and the second-in-command isn't exactly what you'd call experienced. We could use some help."

"I'm glad to be of service," he said smoothly.

She fixed those eyes on him again, and this time the eyes weren't the eyes of the clinically distant surgeon or the accusing eyes of the wronged soldier. She looked tired, drained, worn-out...and there was something else behind that blue gaze too that he couldn't quite figure out.

There was a short sequence of beeps from the comm and he flinched, startled. Her eyes moved away from him, indicating the end of the audience.

"I have to take this call," she said, "but if you wait just a few minutes, I'll show you to your new office."

 
Go to Etille side Epitaph

 
Scene IV: The Darkest Hour

 
The knock sounded louder on the door this time. He didn't move from where he lay on the floor.

"Mr. Yuy?"

Above him the ceiling swirled in bright flashes of white and pink and yellow and he blinked, trying to get the flashing to go away, but even the blinking made his head hurt too much, so he simply closed his eyes tightly. Even then he could see little spots on the insides of his eyelids which slowly swirled and became eyes and gaping mouths laughing at him with silent mirth.

"Mr. Yuy, please open the door!"

It was double-bolted. He was glad. He'd made sure both bolts had been firmly fastened last night so they couldn't come drag him out and take him to their horrible little room with all the pills and needles that he knew he had to have. Except it wasn't the same with them watching, them stabbing the needle into him and telling him that he'd have to come back again the next day. And the next day. And the next.

He wrapped his aching arms around himself to ward off a sudden flash of chill, wondering if he should get up and put on another shirt. Or maybe a sweater. It was very cold in here...when had it gotten so cold?

A different voice this time, angry. "Yuy, you better open this door right now! Yuy! Open up!"

There was a crack of thunder through his ears and his eyes flew open and he sat up, fingers grasping vainly for a weapon, for a blanket to hide under, anything. But it was just someone knocking on the door, though each knock sounded as loud as the frenzied beating of his heart in his ears. His vision blurred again.

"Open the damn door, Yuy!"

He wasn't going to open the door. They'd take him away...do terrible things to him. Like they'd done to Atsuki. They weren't going to hurt him like they had hurt her.

"Atsuki," he whimpered softly, feeling the tears slip from the corner of one eye, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was sad or if there was something in his eye. He reached up to wipe it away but his arm wouldn't obey the commands of his brain for some reason. He stared at it as it lay limp on the carpet like a dead thing.

The knocking stopped.

His arm was trembling now - no, not just his arm but his hand and fingers too. He watched in fascination as they twitched, suddenly realizing that he was sweating. Panting, he tried to tug his shirt over his head, needing somehow to feel air meet his skin, but neither arm was responding and he gritted his teeth against the sudden flash of pain shooting through his wrist and down to his right hand as the muscles cramped.

"Darkflight?" he mumbled, looking around as if suddenly expecting the dark-skinned boy to just appear suddenly. "Darkflight...I...where'd you go?"

The light wavered and his vision grew dim, then brightened again. He finally managed to move one arm, tried to place it over his eyes to ward off the brilliance. He was crying again, crying against the pain of the glow, but he couldn't look away, seeing flashes of color amidst the white light, winged horses and eagles, and he was floating, lifting into the air and rising up from the floor. The ceiling opened up above him and he emerged into the rosy sunlit sky, seeing the Preventers base spread out below him across the plain below. There were mountains rising in the distance against the lavender-tinted clouds. A flock of birds passed below him and he spread out his arms, soared into the sun.

The breeze on his face and his body was cool and he realized he was no longer wearing any clothes but it didn't matter anymore, stretching his arms out to the golden rays of the setting sun and becoming one with the sky. He closed his eyes.

There was only a slight warning, a small tremor of the air currents around him that alerted him to the fact that he was no longer flying, but falling. He opened his eyes, saw the ground approaching at an alarming speed. Braced himself for the impact. The wind wailed in his ears and he narrowed his eyes to slits, keeping them on the ground as it rushed up at him and he was tumbling-

His feet hit and he let his muscles relax, let his knees crumple under him and then the rest of his body was on the ground and he was rolling before he was aware that he was actually doing so. He rolled over twice, checked himself and stopped his body before it could complete a third roll, leaving him lying on his back and staring up at the clear blue sky.

Wait...it had been sunset before, hadn't it?

He felt soft grass beneath his fingers, sat up slowly and ran shaky fingers through his hair. Ran them through again, feeling like something was missing.

Something was missing. His ponytail was gone. He fumbled for the back of his neck, feeling the short, tousled hair that only grew to just below his ears. Had someone cut his hair while he had been asleep?

Had he been asleep?

He tried to remember how he had gotten here, remembered falling from a long way down. He started to panic. Doctor J would not be happy if he'd somehow botched the mission, and the only way to explain the falling was that he'd jumped or been pushed out of a plane. He leapt to his feet, shielding his eyes, and scanned the sky, but there was no plane or shuttle in sight.

Shit.

He checked his chronometer. It read just past 1500 hours and he took a deep breath, shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to think. His brain wasn't functioning right for some reason; faint nagging flashes of memory slipped in and out of his consciousness, gone before he could sort through them. He growled in annoyance, sat down heavily in the sweet-smelling grass and tried to think. There was a patch of bobbing yellow flowers at his feet.

There was a city in the distance, which meant that he'd been dispatched for some type of...spying? Sabotage? It was afternoon. Was he supposed to arrive in the afternoon? In either case, spying or sabotage had to be done at night, and he would have to get in, get out, and get back to Doctor J all tonight. It would definitely be an all-nighter.

Of course, if he couldn't remember what his mission was before the sun set, it would all amount to nothing anyway.

"Are you lost?"

He scrambled to his feet, fingers scrabbling for his gun, cursing himself for being so preoccupied that he hadn't been aware of his surroundings. He'd gotten his fingers wrapped around the handle, prepared to bring it up when he caught sight of the person who'd addressed him.

The gun fell from his hands.

"Relena?"

The sunlight was a halo around her hair and she was facing away from him, holding something in her arms, and as he stood unsteadily, wondering what to say to her, how to explain what he was doing here, she turned.

It wasn't Relena after all.

"Atsuki," he said, staring into her blue eyes and watching her golden hair flutter in the wind. She smiled, facing him fully, and he saw she was cradling a little puppy in her arms.

"Shh," she whispered, stroking the dog's fur. "Isn't he cute?" She smiled at him and then bent down in one fluid motion, gently snapping one of the yellow flowers off its stem and holding it out to him. He stared at her, then reached out and took it, not knowing what else to do. She withdrew her hand before his fingers could touch hers.

A little girl and her puppy.

"What are you doing here, Atsuki?"

His voice was hoarse and she frowned. "Don't be so rude, Wing. Aren't you glad to see me?"

"I thought you were dead," he said, then immediately wondered how he'd thought that, if she was still back on the colony, and then wondered after that how he knew she was on the colony.

She took all of this in in a heartbeat and then laughed, the sound floating away on the wind. "Dead? Well, I'm here right now, right? I can't be dead, can I?"

He shook his head mutely and she cocked her head to the right, examining him. "You don't look so good. Are you lost?"

He took one step forward, as if struggling through air that had suddenly become too thick. "I...I'm not lost."

I've been lost since I was born.

"Then where are you?" she challenged.

He looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Where are you?" Atsuki repeated. "What are you doing here?"

He gaped at her, then glanced around, again taking in the grassy hilltop, the city below, the gleaming river running through the valley beyond. "I don't know."

The smile she gave him was sardonic and sad at the same time. Her eyes were haunted, though she was smiling. The puppy stirred in her arms and she made soothing noises, one hand caressing its furry head. He watched her.

"You've changed," she said.

"Me?"

"You're not the Wing I fell in love with," she said softly, and he wanted to touch her but she did not move closer, simply stood there just out of arms' reach. "The Wing I loved...he died. The Breaks killed him."

"Atsuki, what are you talking about?"

"You don't understand now," she murmured, "but you will."

"I'm still here!" he said desperately, not knowing what she wanted to hear, but only knowing that he wanted to understand. "The same person. Atsuki, whatever I did...I'll change. I'll go back. I can go back...I will, I swear it. I want..."

"What?"

He didn't know what he was going to say, simply stared at her, at the face which now seemed ageless and young and old all at once.

"I don't know," he said again, feeling foolish beyond belief.

"You don't know," she repeated after him. "You know, Wing, that's the stupidest excuse I've ever heard."

He stared at her, trying to figure out if she was joking. "What happened to you, Atsuki?"

"You fool!" she snapped. "People need you, and you're locking yourself away. You're killing yourself!"

He felt his defenses rise to the fore, though he wasn't sure why. "That's none of your business!"

"It is all of my business, Wing! The Breaks killed me...they broke me, and then little by little I died. I was dead before I ever came to Earth, dead before I saw you that one last time on the Preventers base. And I'm seeing you headed down the same path. I don't want that to happen to you, Wing."

"Atsuki," he whispered, reaching out one hand to touch her, but she stepped back, shaking her head.

"I'm lost to you now. I can't do anything to help you now...you need to be strong. For yourself."

"I...I can't," he whispered, felt himself shaking. "I...Atsuki, I can't. I can't go back."

"The Wing I loved," she said very clearly, "was a fighter. He was a warrior. He never gave up. Something happened between the last time I saw you on the colony and the next time I saw you on Earth. I don't know what, but something happened. You gave up, Wing. You gave up your past."

"The past doesn't matter!"

"It matters! Humans cannot live in the past, but those who give up their past have also given up their future!"

"Well then," he snarled. "Maybe I have no future. I'm a hopeless case, Atsuki. You just haven't realized it yet."

He'd never seen such fury in the blue eyes before, but they were like chips of ice staring at him out of a molten sea of gold. "You're wrong," she said quietly, yet he could feel the force behind each clipped word. "You are the future. Whether you want it or not, it is what you are. It is who you are, and you cannot change that."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do!"

She smiled sadly, all the anger gone now, drained. She bowed her head. "I wish I could give you a choice. But that is not an option given to me. I tell what must be, nothing more."

"You're not Atsuki," he breathed, lunging forward, but she was already running and he gave chase, stumbling over the uneven ground and hearing her last words over the breeze.

"Don't let the past kill you as it killed me. I believe in you, Wing. No...not Wing. Heero. I believe in you, Heero."

"Atsuki!" he screamed, reaching for her shadow one last time, knowing as he did so that she was already gone beyond his reach forever. There was a whisper of a voice in his ears, not her voice, but yet so very familiar.

Now I understand. Heero is the true heart of space.

"Quatre?" he whispered.

And then the world exploded around him.

The ground buckled under him and he cried out as fire rained down around him, crackling up towards the smoke-blackened sky. There was no longer grass under his feet, only ash and cinders, but he fell to the ground anyway, one hand going up automatically to protect his head while the other one reached for his gun only to realize that he'd dropped it and had never picked it back up. The heat of the blaze was searing on his skin and he gasped, choked, pushing himself to his feet, forcing himself to keep moving, hunched over to avoid breathing in the fumes.

He was still holding the flower.

Glass broke, something exploded, and there were screams.

And then he knew. He knew exactly where he was, because he had lived it once before and no one could change the past. He knew what would happen.

This isn't happening...no. Not this. Anything but this.

"NO!" he screamed, crumpling to his knees, shaking his head wildly as if that could save him. "This isn't happening...this is over. Over! It's over!"

"He-Heero."

The words were a ragged whisper, barely audible over the noise of the fire and explosions, but he heard them, his head jerking towards the sound, and he half-crawled, half-stumbled towards them, towards the fallen metal beams of what was once a civilian complex, knowing what he would find underneath.

"Heero. You came."

His muscles were shaking as he reached the pile of rubble, gazing helplessly down into the darkness between them, at the girl who he knew lay pinned beneath. He grasped the topmost beam, strained until one of his arms popped with a sickening cracking noise and an intense jolt of pain ran down his back. He gasped, slumped forward across the metal, closing his eyes tightly in agony.

"Heero...don't worry about me."

"Relena..." he gasped, trying to catch his breath, realizing that he was now in a position to see who it was who lay trapped under there. He opened his eyes.

"You came, Heero. You didn't forget me."

"Relena?"

She smiled, the blue eyes the same royal shade as Atsuki's, but there was a different quality to hers - none of the haunted darkness behind them that the other girl seemed to wear like a shroud, but there was something in her gaze too. An age and wisdom and a deep sadness that seemed to penetrate through to the heart which he believed he didn't have until now.

"I couldn't save you," he mouthed, not knowing if he spoke the words or not, but she smiled again.

"It doesn't matter, Heero. You came for me...that's the only thing that matters...you cared enough to save even someone you hate."

"I...I don't hate you," he said, his head swimming, trying to focus on her as she swam in and out of his vision.

"Perhaps not. But there are other things that you might perhaps hate, things which you must...nevertheless be prepared to fight for. I know you can do it...Heero. You're strong."

"I...I came to save you, but I was too late..."

A spasm of pain crossed her face but she fought to keep her eyes open, staring straight at him. "I'm not the one who matters now. Open your eyes, Heero."

"Relena," he choked, stretching his hand down to her as far as he could reach, and he saw her own arm reach out with supreme effort, her fingers grasping his in a trembling, tenuous grip. Her hand was cold. "Don't die, Relena. Please don't..."

"Open your eyes, Heero," she said again. "You-" Stopped, gasping for breath.

"Don't talk," he said. "I'll...I'll go get a doctor. You'll be all right."

"Fight for me," she whispered. "Fight for us. Don't throw your life away...your friends need you, Heero. I know we can believe in you...you're the kind of person...who gives everyone....hope."

"Relena," he said, but her hand was going limp, falling before he could catch it.

She's dead. You killed her.

He buried his face in his hands, prepared to lie there until he too was killed by a falling beam or burned to death or perhaps he would be lucky and some stray explosion would catch him. But before any such thing could come to pass, he heard a soft yelping. Sat up, stared.

Caught under another, smaller beam further away, was the puppy.

He gathered it into his arms, feeling its heartbeat flutter weak and faint beneath his fingers. Its eyes were closed and each breath rattled in its throat. He cradled it close, not knowing what else he could do but let it pass in peace.

"Are you just going to let it die, then?"

He knew to whom the voice belonged even before he turned and saw Chang Wufei standing there, arms crossed over his chest, proud, bold, fierce, but older, with his long, unbound hair loose across his shoulders. Tired, yet determined. Slung at his waist was a long curved sword.

"Leave me alone, Wufei," he said tiredly.

"So you're just going to let it die," Wufei challenged, nodding at the puppy in his arms.

Something broke inside him and he felt the tears spill down his face. It took all his energy to keep himself on his feet, took everything he had to keep his legs straight and steady. "What can I do?" he cried. "Look at it! It's already dead!"

"That's where you're wrong," Wufei snapped. "Never give up on something, even when you think it's too late!"

"Shut up!" he screamed. "I don't want to hear your fucking lies...get away from me!"

"I'm not leaving," the Chinese boy said.

"You bastard," he whispered, but the fight had gone out of him and his knees buckled and he sank to the ground, still clutching the puppy in his arms.

"I'm not leaving," Wufei said again. He heard footsteps as the other boy moved closer. "I told you I would never give up on you, Heero. And I never will. None of us will."

"Why?" he whispered brokenly. "Why? I gave up on myself long ago. I don't deserve this."

"Because," Wufei said gently, kneeling in front of him. He could see the other boy's form through his tears. "Because that's what you taught me. Two years ago, you taught me that other people are worth fighting for."

"No, I didn't."

"Open your eyes. There are people who need you...and there are people who you need. No one man is an island, Heero. You can't survive alone. None of us can. You taught me that, too."

He was still shaking his head when he felt something being pressed into his hand, looked down.

"I think you dropped this," Wufei said. He was smiling.

It was a yellow flower.

He tucked the flower into the crook of his arm next to the head of the puppy, felt it wriggle a bit. Its heartbeat was slow and steady now, and even as he shifted it in his arms, it was sleeping soundly.

"Wufei?" he called. But the Chinese pilot was nowhere to be seen, and he stood up, noticing faintly in the back of his mind that the explosions had ceased and that it was warm, but not with the deadly deceptive warmth of fire.

You can't survive alone. None of us can. You taught me that, too.

"I'm sorry, Wufei," he whispered. "Wufei...Atsuki, Relena...Darkflight. Duo, Trowa, Quatre. Everyone. I'm sorry."

Heero is the true heart of space.

He was drifting and the warmth surrounded him and he could hear music, faint chimes like a celestial lullaby.

Open your eyes, Heero.

He opened his eyes.

The light flooded his vision, a brilliance of a million galaxies, a billion suns, light shooting forth from the spaces and planes of every living thing and heavenly body, all glowing, all pulsing, all singing. He felt himself being pulled apart and remolded, torn and healed in a single instant, and it was so beautiful that he wanted to weep.

Is this the uchuu no kokoro? The heart of space?

Then he was being pulled away again, seeing the light fade, but the music remained with him and he closed his eyes again, feeling, for the first time since too long ago, a feeling of absolute serenity. Of peace.

"I think he's coming around."

He glanced around but there was no one there, only darkness, but then something brushed his forehead and he could see a speck of light in the distance, growing wider and wider, and he stood still and watched it draw near.

"Can you hear me?"

This awakening was different. He struggled to open his eyelids, feeling his pupils rebel against the concentration of light in the room, though upon his second try he found that it wasn't as bright as he had first thought; in fact, it was dim by indoor standards. The first thing he saw was a large florescent light fixture on the ceiling, but it was turned to minimum level. He could hear something beeping.

"You're finally awake."

He opened his mouth to say something, but found that his mouth was already open and there was something attached to it. He started to struggle, felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Let me help you," a kindly male voice said. "Here." Hands went to his face, working steadily and quickly, and he felt the apparatus slide off his face. A respirator?

"Where...where am I?"

"Preventers Headquarters Military Hospital," the same voice said, and a face swam into view, middle-aged, with deep-set brown eyes and tanned skin, a light blue medical cloth mask covering his mouth.

"How?" he croaked.

The doctor snorted. "You're lucky, kid. They had to break down the door. Took security forces a whole half hour to do so. You were in one of the most secure rooms on base. But they got you out alive is what matters." He turned away, fiddling with something on one of the machines. "Now. How many fingers am I holding up?"

He watched as the doctor held up one hand, thought, counted. Three? No, four. "Four."

The grin was hidden under the blue mask, but the doctor had definitely smiled. "Correct. How about this hand?"

He counted again. "Two."

"Very good. What's your name?"

He blinked at the doctor, mind drawing a blank before it came rushing back to him...the attack, Atsuki's death. How he'd hid inside his room, locking the door. They'd come to take him to detox but he'd refused. He'd stayed there...wallowing in his own misery. It was a wonder he was still alive. So they'd had to break down the door to get him out.

The dream...a product of his own forced drug withdrawal? Yet it had seemed so real. Atsuki. Relena. Wufei. The images rushed back with astonishing clarity, and he felt himself flinch from the brutal honest truth of their words, yet knowing at the same time that something had changed. He no longer felt lost, abandoned. No longer alone.

For the first time in two years, maybe things could somehow be all right.

"Your name?" the doctor repeated, this time looking a little worried. "Hello? You still with me?"

"Heero," he whispered, then swallowed. "Heero Yuy. My name is Heero Yuy."

 
Act VIII Part III | Act IX Part II | Back to Sainan no Kekka