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" Little White Card "Written By: Maaya
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or any of its character. Summary: Heero sends a card to someone special. Warnings: None Pairings: 1+2 Rating: G Dedication: To Agent Midnight, as a (though a
little late) birthday gift. After reading your gift, you inspired
me and I rewrote this. Maybe it could be considered a somewhat companion
piece. Sorry is it’s a little depressing. I really wish it was
better than it turned out to be, but still, happy birthday! Hope you
had a good one.
Little White Card
Heero, despite the fact he had only visited once, and had during that time helped causing a war, missed earth. But ‘missed’ was not a word he, himself, would have used. In his own quiet mind, he portrayed the sensation he felt with words like longing, a curiosity and a loneliness - the zero-one pilot knew his emotions, and he knew words. But he didn’t know how to put the two together correctly. Therefore, what he felt never was named with the most fitting name. Someone from behind gave him a light push in the back and his eyes diverted from the slight outline that was earth. The thick glass covering the colony was somewhat blue, turning the planet into an abnormally acid-azure colour through the material. He was forced to take a step forward, and his eyes fell onto the now green-shining sign which told him it was okay to cross the road now. So cross he did, and the man who had pushed him in the first place walked passed, huffing exasperatedly as he did so. He soon disappeared into the crowd, and Heero was left to look after him blankly, not really caring enough to get angry with the rather rude behaviour. But he had made himself look suspicious, again - that he realized. Well, maybe not suspicious, but at least outstanding. The people of the colonies had become more suspicious of things out of order as the war had developed. Even the children, he had noticed, had become more hostile and nervous. It hurt to know that if the war continued even further, those children would also be stained by blood and grief. And his and his four fellow pilots’ goal would be useless.... There he was again, thinking of the future. If Duo’d been there, Heero would have received a light slap and a reprimand that people were less depressed if thinking of the ‘now’, not the ‘if’ and ‘then’. Especially the pessimistic people, Duo would continue, should listen to the advice. And Heero would just shrug, but quietly take the words to his heart. Duo would understand. Catching sight of one of the yellow boxes he had been out looking for, he fished the card out of a pocket and looked at it. Real letters were rare in these modern days of email, but the tradition had been hard to break and the service was still used by some people, though mostly for packages. The delivery was deadly slow, especially from the colonies, and the post being sent every other week. The card would most certainly be late. It was not a colourful, animated card, because Heero didn’t like those. The hard piece of paper in his hands was instead completely white, with flourished letters shaping the words, ‘Happy Birthday’, in gold. And then, added in blue ink and a careful handwriting, ‘Duo’. His hand hovered with the card above the box and he considered whether or not he should write the sender’s name. But he didn’t have a pencil with him, so it didn’t matter. Duo would understand. He raised the mailbox lid and let the little white card fall in. *** The End *** |
