SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
Letter to Noin: Milliard

Noin

I don't know what to say. I don't know what I can say. Do dead ears hear? Do dead eyes gaze upon the world still after their mortal bodies have long faded away?

I could weep for you, you know. I have. I've shed more tears in the last few hours than I have since I can remember, since the Cinq Kingdom was burned to the ground such a long, long time ago. I was…I am…

I've never called you by your first name. I know you didn't like being called by that name, that the reason you went by your last name is that you despised your birth name. And I respected your wishes, but there were times I'd wonder what it would be like to speak that name from my own lips and see me reflected in your eyes. To know that it was for you alone.

I'll say it now. Lucrezia. Lucrezia Noin, cadet, commander, acquaintance, teammate, friend.

Looking at that list, it seems incomplete. Something is missing there…something that could have been but never was, something that I was too much of a coward to have ever initiated. And you knew that. How could you? How could you?

I don't deserve you.

Remember that day we went flying on the last day of classes, and the sky was so blue and the sun was so golden, and we swore that after everything was all over, we'd come back to that very same spot and fly that route all over again, but this time in real mobile suits, blazing through the atmosphere and up through the clouds, into space like shooting stars? We swore that no matter what happened, we would come back.

We were so young then, don't you think?

I'm rambling. I still don't know what to say. I…

Why do people die?

I'll throw this letter into the fire. Do you know why? People say that way, the letter reaches its destination. Out of sight, it rises up to heaven in the smoke of the flames.

But what if I don't want it to go to heaven? What if you see it? I don't want you to. I don't want you to see what I've become. I'm not fit a man for you, Lucrezia. I'm a shadow, a fleeting form, an echo of mad laughter upon a ghostly wind swirling through the graveyard of my dreams.

That was poetic. I'm sure you agree. Or maybe not. You always told me exactly what you thought. Maybe you'll say that I am mad, and that I should end this miserable existence before I degenerate further into my own living hell. Or maybe you'll say that I'm wrong. That I should forget about you.

How do I forget about you? How do I forget about…myself?

You can't be dead. I won't let you be. Oh God, please don't be dead. Any moment now you'll be here at my shoulder, scolding me or telling me I should get some rest, or just smiling like you used to. I remember your smile. It was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

You're not dead. Noin. Lucrezia. I can call you that now because you're dead and you won't care what I call you. I don't care. Nothing matters anymore, because if you're dead then the world rewinds upon itself, an empty shell of monochrome and the keening cry of nothing. I sound so poetic, don't you think? They say that it is the mark of a madman. Do you think I'm a madman? I don't think so. Do you? Do you? Damn you, answer me!

Answer…please answer. I can't bear to be alone…any longer.

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