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"Waiting for Shinigami"Written By: Dragonmistress_7 Disclaimer: I do not own them with a fox, I do
not own them in abox. I do not own them on Tuesday, I borrow them
so we can play. Ido not own Gundam Wing, don't sue me, I don't own
anything! Rating: Eventually, NC-17, for now, like, G? Warnings: OOC, Eventual lemon (1x2)temporarily
POV Pairings: 1x2, 3x4 Summary: The war is finished and time has passed. Heero is sent to find Duo and try to convince him to join Preventer but somewhere along the way feelings change Notes: Kind of strange fic that wouldn't leave
me alone. I don'tthink it will be too long. Not my normal stuff, but
a good start, Ihope. Will set up shrines to all who give feedback.
(winces) soften
Waiting for Shinigami
Chapter 2 Heero, more than anyone, was always good at telling when Shinigami came to play. The clearest memory I have of him is at fifteen. We were blowing something or the other up, the details escape me, but I fell behind. Not the "wait up" kind of behind, the "oh shit" kind of behind. I was still hoping to make it before I got captured and/or blown up, when suddenly I rounded the corner and there he was. It was Shinigami who asked him what he was doing, though it was very obvious he was keeping my escape route clear. It was Shinigami he answered when he said, "I'm waiting for you." By the look on his face, I knew that he really was expecting the god of death to pay him a visit before the war was over. I never forgot that look. I never forgot that Heero expected, maybe even wanted, to die. Now, he's come to see me. Une sent him to convince me
to join the Preventers, but this is one mission the Perfect Soldier
will fail. I'm done. I just don't see the point. I don't need money,
and even if I did, I could get it without working. All I'd need is
a halfway decent computer and a way to log in. When the war ended,
I quit everything. I don't do anything anymore, not unless I want
to. Me. Not the doctor, not Relena, not Une and sure as hell not Heero.
He could beg, plead, cry, and do a million other things that he would
never do, but I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not doing shit. I did
pick him up at the shuttle port, just to save him Three years have made me cynical, I guess. After the
war, I was just too tired to give a damn. I went to bed and didn't
wake up for two months. When I emerged a bit, everyone else had already
established themselves in the world or buried in deep enough to make
a mole proud. As I remember it, all that was left to be seen of Heero
was the occasional clod of dirt flying from his little hole. I did
him one better. If he dug in, I bunkered. I hid away in the nastiest,
lowest, most rundown hole L2 had to offer and covered my He looked different, yet the same. I hadn't seen him in three years, but he'd only changed in the ways a boy can be expected to change. He had gotten taller, though he's still slender as a post, and his face was still exactly the same as it had always been. His eyes were still flat and reflective, his mouth still grim, but softer, somehow, like he didn't really mean it. He didn't say anything except a short greeting when I showed up, nor did he seem surprised that I'd bothered. I keep waiting for him to get down to business, to ask
me to join Preventers or at least ask why I won't. The Heero I know
would have said something by now, but he just sits quietly and stares
out the window as I drive him to my home. I reflect that perhaps he's
changed more than shows, but quickly dismiss that thought. One does
not improve upon Perfection, so the Perfect Soldier cannot change.
It has to be a tactic, some manipulation technique unknown to me.
Perhaps if I can observe closely enough, I'll learn his angle, and I want to ask for all of his news, to hear of all of
the people who used to mean something, but have somehow faded into
shade of memory, but I don't. I refuse to be the one who opens the
can of worms. I am not going to be responsible to anything he says.
At long last, he speaks. "It's good to see you again, Duo. Polite, respectful, and to the point. He hasn't changed
at all. The same directness, blanketed with a new skill he's picked
up- diplomacy. Learn something new, incorporate it into the old. Just
like always. I wonder what Une promised him that he's bringing out
the big guns so early in the game. What can entice the Perfect "It's all right," I say. "I haven't exactly gone out of my way to be accessible." Okay, so maybe the hint that he's slightly unwelcome was a little less subtle than I'd hoped for, but Heero pretends he didn't just hear me tell him to leave me the hell alone. Subtle never had much effect on him anyway. Hell, punching him in the face never really had much effect either. I idly wonder what he'd do, if I just turned in my seat and punched him. He couldn't kill me, because my recruitment is his mission. What would he do? If I knew what to say after I did it, I would do it just to find out. "The others sent these," he says,pulling me from my own thoughts. I glance down to see a rather hefty bundle of pictures. The top one is a group, taken informally, with Trowa and Quatre in the foreground, talking very earnestly about something. To one side, Sally is wiping something off of Wufei's face with a napkin, though a second glance show that all the faces in the picture are at least somewhat stained. On the other side, Hilde is passing Relena a basket of bread. They are both laughing. In the back, the camera had caught Lady Une with her mouth open, fork halfway between it and her plate. "Where are you?" I ask, holding the picture up. The look he gives me is unfathomable. It makes me uncomfortable in some inexplicable way. "I took the picture," he replies. "I took most of them, actually. The third in the pile is one of my favorites." I shuffle to the picture and regard it for a moment. It is Trowa and Quatre, sitting and lying respectively, on a couch in front of a window. Quatre is asleep, his head resting in Trowa's lap, and Trowa is running his finger's through the blonde's hair. The look in his one visible eye is telling. I shoot Heero a questioning glance. He shakes his head. "No, not yet. I think that was the moment, though, that Trowa realized he loves him." I take a moment to decide if that statement was an indication of change, but I find, instead of an answer, I just want to hit him all the more. Instead, I give a mental shrug. He's staying a week. Surely in all that time, I'll be able to find some way to justify it. Maybe he will kill me. Maybe I want him to. Maybe I'm just waiting for Shinigami, too. Maybe I'm just like him. ~ * ~ |
