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"The Price They Paid "Written By: yanagi Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. I just
borrowed the boys to play with. I won’t hurt them–much.
Rating: NC 17 Pairing: 1x2x1, 3x4x3, 5x6x5 Warnings: Swearing, sexual innuendo, full body
cavity search, limes and lemons later on. Summary: 'They' sentence Heero to two ten year sentences to be served concurrently. The differences between what the boys experience can be startling. Betaed by Skippyscatt *thoughts*
"The Price They Paid" The Price 35 The Calm Before The Storm ~ * ~ I know the chapter seems a little jumbled but bear with me, each of these sections happens at about the same time ~ * ~ Zechs read the email with a disgusted curl of his lip. Relena was going to visit several prisons during her tour of Earth. He didn’t like it but he couldn’t explain why. She wouldn’t listen to his protests. All she would say was that her security was provided by Preventers so it had to be the best. ‘Une wouldn’t let anything happen to me.’ Wufei walked in just as Zechs shut his computer down. He handed Zechs a mug of tea and held out his hand for the computer. Zechs traded the computer for the tea. "Very nice. Heero’s work or I miss my guess. You’re very lucky. He’s only built two others. One for himself and one for Duo." Wufei handed it back with an envious look. Zechs bit his lip then offered the computer to Wufei. "You can have it if you like. Perhaps he’ll build me another." Wufei shook his head. "I’d never insult either one of you like that. It’s yours. Heero built it expressly for you. But I thank you from the bottom of my heart." Wufei reached up and cupped a pale cheek in his calloused hand. Zechs bent down and kissed him. "Mmmm, nice. You smell so good. Incense, and . . . something?" Wufei laughed softly. "Jasmin. I spilled some of the tea on my hand. Drink it before it goes cold." Zechs obediently sipped at his tea. "You were making a face. What’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing or we’ll have a session." Zechs smirked at Wufei. "I’d like that. I’m feeling tense. But . . . Relena and her little tour are getting on my nerves. Something . . . I just can’t put my finger on it." "Oh, well . . . I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want my sister in some of the facilities she’s intent on visiting. Don’t let it bother you. She’s got some of the best security available." "Doesn’t make a bit of difference. But, never mind that. I’m probably just borrowing trouble." Wufei gave Zechs a sharp smack on the rear which made
him snort. "Don’t start something you’re not going
to finish." ~ * ~ Duo shook his head. "Heero, you’re not going to eat that are you? It’s . . . just weird." Heero poked at the scrambled tofu absently then shoveled a fork full into his mouth. "‘S not bad. Wassa mata." Duo made a scornful face. "‘S ‘ot." "Well, you deserve to have your mouth burned. That stuff is just gross. Why eat bean stuff when you can have real eggs?" Zechs seconded that with a grunt and even Wufei made a doubtful face at the concoction. Heero defended his choice with one word. "Cholesterol" Duo made a really rude noise. "Like it makes any difference to any of us. One; we’re young. Two; I’ll bet anything J fixed that as well as other stuff. So, eggs, not beans." The argument continued from the table to the car. Zechs was driving as usual. Wufei refused to drive in the city saying that he’d rather not deal with idiots quite so early in the morning. Heero was forbidden to drive after he nearly rammed someone from behind because they stopped when he thought it was logical to go. And Duo had scared them all so badly that if he even looked like he was reaching for the key they all flinched. Finally everybody agreed that tofu was beginning to be more than boring. Wufei changed the subject to the new colony in the L5 cluster that Quatre was building and colony design occupied the rest of the drive. ~ * ~ When they got to the compound, they each headed in a different direction. They all had their own offices now and personal secretaries who handled their scheduling. Each pilot was teaching a complement of classes that would have boggled the minds of the legislators who said that they were irresponsible and undependable. Duo headed for the bomb squad ready room, he had some things to clear up with the squad and wanted to get it done early. He didn’t think it would take long. "Easy there, boy. You better find your daddy." Duo eyed the man with pure venom in his gaze. "And who the hell are you? I don’t know your face." The big man, who’d been standing just inside the door when Duo opened it and hit him with the edge just shrugged. "I’m new here. I’m supposed to meet with the Training Director and show him to the right class room. Like I said, you better find whoever you’re supposed to be with and get with them." Duo sighed, he was already tired of this. Every newbie seemed to think it was his duty to protect him from perversion or something. "Well, I’m the Training Director, believe it or not. And if you are supposed to be showing me somewhere. Let’s get there." The man gave Duo a disbelieving look and snorted. Duo took him down and put his foot on his chest. The guy gulped once, his Adams’ apple jumping, and clapped out. "Geeze! I’m sorry! Damn, you’re so little. Who’d expect you to be a Director of anything, much less the bomb squad? Who the hell are you?" Duo let him up and snapped, "Right back at ya. Who are you?" The man had the intelligence to look embarrassed. "Buck. Lord Buck. Mom had weird ideas. And you’re?" "Duo Maxwell. Where were you supposed to take me?" "Meeting room down the hall. Come on." Duo followed him without thinking. When he went in the room, he was sucker punched; or rather kicked. Right behind the knees. He toppled into someone’s arms. Arms which closed around him in a tight hug. "Easy, easy. Don’t kick. You lost." Duo snarled. He’d said that if his men could trap him, he’d let them see what was in his braid. They’d done so, quite neatly. He gave the room a glare rivaling Heero’s best. "All right. You guys got me fair and square. What do you want me to do?" The men all gathered around him careful to leave him an out, a space free of their big bodies. There were some grins and chuckles, and not a few smug looks. "Ok, guys, grin all you want. But I wouldn’t do to you what I’d do to bad guys. So . . ." Duo started unbraiding his hair; and taking scary things out of it. He produced several throwing pins, a dozen small balls of explosives, at least three sections of wire of different types, and most unnerving to those in the know, several pieces of prima cord. He also dropped an electronic detonator on the table. "Well, that’s the lot." Duo shook his hair out to prove he’d shown them everything. "Now. You bunch of perverts happy?" Several voices allowed that they were. "Well, let’s get to work. We’re going to learn how to make sure there are no pressure sensitive switches. ‘K, guys." Duo was busily braiding his hair as he spoke, tucking his kit back in as he braided. "Oh . . . and you wise guys can get to the bomb bunker double time." Since the bunker was clear across the compound from where they were now, there was considerable groaning and grumbling. Duo smacked them all down. "Hey! I’m gonna have ta chivvy the bunch of you girls, so I’ll be right behind ya. Get movin’" ~ * ~ Wufei was in the dojo leading an advanced sword skills class. Some would have wondered at that, others knew it wasn’t fighting with an obsolete weapon that was the point. Discipline was. As well as the fact that explosive weapons were very dangerous on a colony or space ship. They could rupture the skin causing a blow out. Not good when the out was space. "So, people. Why do we fight?" Wufei eyed the line of men and women with a sour expression on his face. He was sure that none of them had a clue. Not one of the people looked at him, the ceiling, the floor or anything else. They all kept their eyes straight ahead. ‘Impressive, if it wasn’t a sign that they have no idea’ Wufei snapped. "To insure freedom and justice for those who can’t fight for themselves. You will now do 10 of each cut. While chanting ‘we fight so others can be free’. Go!" Wufei walked up and down the line of sweating, chanting people correcting form and offering criticism. He was unfailingly polite, no matter what their attitude. He was the Sensei, they were the students. He didn’t expect them to have his discipline yet. When the exercise was done, he told them to kneel and rest. "Anyone have questions?" Wufei watched as one of the women started to raise her hand stopped then decided to raise it. "Yes" "Sensei. I understand why we’re training with swords, in theory. But in practice, is it really going to do any good? I mean . . ." she trailed off biting at her lip. Wufei stood up and tucked his sword into his belt. They were all dressed in hakama. He felt the uniform would give the students more self-confidence. His were red, theirs were blue. He paced for a moment centering himself. "To quote an old movie my friend is fond of. ‘Do or do not. There is no try’." Wufei moved easily through one of the more advanced kata, a kata that the class had been struggling with for days. He moved through the forms for ten minutes while the students watched enviously, he wasn’t even sweating yet. "Set up the straw dogs." Several of the students hurried to set the rolled tatami cutting targets on their stands. "You use bokken because you are students. I use a katana because I am a master. I was given my first sword when I was seven. I will now demonstrate cutting techniques also called tamishigiri." Wufei knew he sounded arrogant but there was no help for it. He was the best sword in WEI. That was why he was an instructor. He moved quickly, using all his skills. He cut each target using a different stroke while using all his skills. In several cases he used double or even triple attacks. "Now you see how effective a sword can be. On the colonies projectile weapons are almost impossible to get. So, swords, crossbows and other muscle powered weapons are the norm. If you find out that your opponent has a slug thrower, back off immediately and call special ops. We’ll take care of it." He didn’t notice the looks he got from most of his students. "If you pass this class, you’ll be one of us." Wufei waited for a moment then called the class to order and began drilling them again. ~ * ~ Heero settled in for a long gossip with Gunnery Sergeant Mathews. He liked the man and had made up with him easily. Duo had encouraged him to come down to the Armory for a gab session when he realized that he was going to be hung up with his class for most of the day. Heero had dismissed his arms class early for a session of gun cleaning. So he was holed up in the armory office with the Gunny because he didn’t want to listen to the bitching. "Well. That went well . . . not. As Duo would say. I never heard so much groaning and grumbling in all my life." Heero plopped his feet on the desk, crossing his leg at the ankle. He sipped at the paint remover the Gunny called coffee. "It’s not like I asked them to lick their guns clean. I even let them have their choice of tools." The Gunny snorted. "Lick their arms clean? That’s a new one on me." Heero shrugged. "It really tastes god awful. Nearly as bad as this coffee. When’s the last time you cleaned the pot?" The Gunny looked at Heero askance. "Don’t wash it. Takes all the cure out of it. Just dump the grounds once a week. And how would you know how . . . aw, hell, boy. I really don’t want to know. That guy J ought to be shot." Heero snorted. "Can’t shoot him. He got blown up. Serves him right. And you really should wash that pot. I swear there’s mold in here. It’s unsanitary . . . By the way. Have you seen that new taser gun? And there’s a dart model that I really want to get a look at. Some kind of new dart, and the compression ratio is adjustable. Or so I’ve heard." "Well, he should have got killed slow. Anyway, that taser is wild. Doesn’t need even the thin wires that have been the norm for centuries. Some kind of narrow beam broadcast thing. And the new dart guns are bad mammas. New plastic injection molded to hold a hell of a charge. The darts are something else. Soy based and biodegradable. They actually are the tranq. It’s in the plastic so you don’t have to worry about breaking the vial and they’re color coded. Cool as all get out. I’ll see if I can’t get you a demo." Heero finished his coffee, and leaned back in his chair. "Thanks. Really appreciate it. But you better get four of each. I don’t fancy what will happen if Duo, Zechs, or especially Wufei feel left out. Wufei would start a rant about injustice just to get back at me. And Duo would cut me off at the knees." "What about Zechs? He’s like royalty or something isn’t he?" "Zechs would just think it was what he deserved. Stupid ass. And he’s Crown Prince of Sanq. Whether anyone likes it or not. Although Relena is younger than he, she’s . . ." Heero trailed off as the Gunny held up his hand. "Don’t bother. It’s all politics and way beyond an old grunt like me. I really don’t care. All that royalty stuff doesn’t amount to a hill of beans when the lead starts flyin’" Heero agreed with the gunny and accepted another cup of coffee. They sipped in companionable silence for a while, until a man came in with a request for a new short rod. He’d managed to break the patch holder off, leaving the screw end in the rod. The Gunny issued him a new one and told him to take it easy as next time he might scratch the receiver. Heero picked up the rod and fiddled with it for a moment. "It’s too soft, you need to have them use harder steel." "Yeah, well. You have to really work to break it off." Heero held the rod for a second then bent it by folding
it over his index finger using just his thumb and middle finger. The
Gunny sighed. "Damn, you’re strong. Don’t believe it." "Yeah, and I suppose you’ve never broken the damn . . . oh, I remember. You use one of those drop through cords. How’s that work for ya?" Heero put down his cup and shrugged, producing a Taurus 9mm from somewhere. He fished in his left thigh pocket and pulled out a small case. He opened it and laid out his equipment. There was a small bottle of oil, a cord with small weights on each end, a brass brush with a screw end and several cleaner impregnated ‘patches’ in foil packets. "Don’t you have a patch head?" Heero shook his head. "No, just double the cord over. Eliminates the need for one. And that makes one less piece to lose." "Aahh. I see. Nice kit. Where’d you get it?" "Duo." "Well, Geeze. Real informative. Where’d he get it?" Heero grinned at the Gunny. "He made it. There’s only five, no six, like it that I know about." "Dammit. I wanted to order a bunch. You think he’ll let me farm the design out?" Heero shrugged. "Probably. Have to ask him." The Gunny watched in awe as Heero stripped the 9mm down in less that three seconds. He dropped the weighted ends into the ejector, slipped the cleaning patch into the loop and pulled it through the barrel. Then he cleaned the slide, wiped down the small parts, and put the whole thing back together. It took him less that a minute total. "Damn boy. You must have done that like a million times. You’re slick." Heero preened just a little. "Well, I don’t think I’ve actually done it a million times. More like eight hundred thousand, give or take a grand. You should see Duo. He’s almost as good as I am with this gun. Makes him better really." The Gunny gave him a baffled look. Heero explained with a wink. "He has to steal it from me first." The Gunny nearly tipped over backwards, he laughed so hard. ~ * ~ Zechs picked up his kit and headed to the ‘crime scene’ he was hoping that this class didn’t have a squeamish squealer in it like the last one had. Duo had griped about it for days. He gathered the class around him and started in on the standard ‘don’t touch anything unless you’re one of the lab crew’ lecture. And got some flack almost immediately. "What do you think we are? Cops? We’re . . ." Zechs interrupted the man before he could get started. "We are the people who take over when the cops are stumped. This is second or even third response. So pay attention. Everybody and his dog has already trampled through the place." Zechs continued with his lecture and this time everybody paid attention. He showed them how to measure everything from blood spots to line of sight angles and tag-ins. "All right everybody, if you’ve finished with your measurements, we’ll head back to the lab and get started. I don’t expect everyone to be expert in everything. In fact, this exercise is to find out what you’re best at. So . . . lab . . . go." In the lab each person had their own computer with which to analyze whatever they thought was important. Zechs monitored them all from a master station. He watched in mounting frustration as every single one of his students missed vital information. And some even got obvious angles wrong. He rubbed his face and grumbled. ‘Why me. Why do I always get the idiots? Not that it makes much difference. I deserve it after all.’ He spent the next two hours trying to hint each of his students into discovering for themselves what they had done wrong. It worked with some, but others seemed to be completely oblivious. "What the hell is a tag . . . what?" Zechs walked up behind the woman who was eyeing her monitor with a puzzled frown. "Tag-in’s . . . Usually pronounced tag-uns . . . Are small multi-layered bits of plastic. They are identifiers mixed in every batch of explosives made. They’ve been doing it since the 21st century old calendar. Helps to identify explosives. Each batch has its own series of color lines. And they’re all registered. That’s why Maxwell made so much of his own. All you have to do is record the color series and check the register." The woman picked at her lip for a second. "I see. But . . . Hummm" Zechs moved away as she started typing. She was going to work out. The next student in his help line was having trouble with trajectory analysis. He hadn’t taken his measurements properly so he kept coming up with six shooters. Which was impossible as there were only two guns. One; the victims, the other; the killers. "How the hell did you mess this up that badly? There’s only two people in the room, both dead. Two guns, both discharged multiple times. Two different calibers which match the bullets dug out of the bodies which have been scientifically matched to the guns. So how the hell did you get those results." "The instruments must be calibrated wrong. I just . . . this doesn’t make sense. I know what results I’m supposed to be getting, but I can’t." Zechs sighed. "The instruments are calibrated correctly. I did it myself. But bad instruments can be compensated for . . . in a pinch. It won’t stand up in court but . . . I know Maxwell has done it by sticking his finger in the wound for the angle." The man turned green and jumped up. "Stuck his finger . . . excuse me" He headed for the men’s room at a dead run. Zechs shook his head. It was going to be one of those days. ~ * ~ Quatre and Trowa stood on opposite sides of the small laboratory table. The non-reactive surface reflecting their images with a fuzzy lack of detail. The small bit of substance between them looked like nothing but a piece of paper. Trowa looked doubtful. "That’s it? It . . . looks so . . . plain." Quatre picked it up carelessly. "That’s it. It does look plain. When it’s in this state, it’s easily transported. You can roll it . . . fold it . . . crumple it. Even write on it." He followed each sentence with the appropriate action. Writing ‘Q + T’ enclosed in a heart, Quatre went on. "Cut it. With plain scissors no less." He cut the heart out of the substance and lay in on the table. "But once it’s been transformed. It’s harder than gundanium and can only be cut with special cutters. We supply them, of course. And they self-destruct if they’re tampered with." Quatre sprayed the heart with chemicals from a small spray bottle. The heart shifted slightly under the spray. It didn’t look much different, but when Trowa picked it up, it was rigid. The writing was still plainly visible. Trowa smiled at Quatre who smiled back. Neither was a very nice sort of smile. "Very nice. You’re a good business man Quatre. What the hell are we going to do with it?" Quatre changed subtly. He went from a cute, smiling young man, to a stern faced, hard nosed business man in a second. "What do you think we’re going to do with it? It’s neo-gundanium." Trowa just nodded. "And who’s going to test the things?" "Oh, I have two test pilots in mind. Very experienced. Excellent skills." Trowa smirked at Quatre. "Wonder who those two men are." Quatre shrugged and smiled. Then went on to a discussion of timetables. He had the uncomfortable feeling that the new mobile suits were going to be needed sooner than he’d hoped. ~ * ~ The construction facility was in the new colony that Quatre was building. And the men in it knew that everything there was top secret. The neo-gundanium was being manufactured there. It couldn’t be made anywhere but in space. But once formed it could be solidified anywhere. On Earth, inside a colony, or in space itself. All that was needed was a special nozzle to contain the spray so that it touched the sheet of neo-gundanium instead of disbursing into the vacuum. Quatre and Trowa inspected the facility daily with an eye out for any kind of sabotage or espionage. They didn’t need their secrets getting out too soon. Trowa also scanned the news every day for any signs of the rebellion they both feared would rear its head. They both heard the same rumblings and they were worried. The colonies were pulling back from ESUN for lack of law enforcement. Things were getting out of hand. The colonies were starting to talk about self determination again. Quatre crept into Trowa’s arms and sighed. "I’m not happy. I hear things I don’t like. The legislators aren’t listening to the colonies again. And I hear that the military and Preventers are at odds." Trowa hugged Quatre gently. "Don’t worry. You know we have plans in the works to take care of almost any thing they can think up. If you worry too much, you won’t be able to do what you need to when the time comes. You’ll be mentally exhausted. Right?" Quatre mumbled into his chest. "Right?" Trowa tucked his crooked index finger under Quatre’s chin and raised his head. Quatre looked up into loving eyes and sighed again. "Yes, you’re right. I’m going to take out most of my worry on testing those mecha. And we need to think of a name for them. Before someone starts calling them the new Gundams and scares the shit out of people." Trowa nodded. "I know. But what should we call them?" "Don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. Maybe you could get in touch with the guys and have them help figure out something?’ "I really don’t want to put the info in the ether at all. Too much chance of interception." Quatre nodded. "You’re right. I just hate keeping this secret from them. Wufei is going to have a fit." Trowa shuddered. "He’ll rant forever. But I’m more scared of Duo’s reaction. If he gets quiet about it, I’m running for the hills." Quatre shuddered. "He’ll just blow them up." ~ * ~ ~ * ~ Lady Une paced her office thinking furiously. She was in deep shit and she knew it. The local police didn’t have a chance. The state troopers said it wasn’t their jurisdiction and the sheriff flat out admitted he didn’t have the resources. Preventers couldn’t handle this either. She called her aide and told him what she wanted. He turned pale and left. "Dammit!" Une hated to do this, she knew there was going to be all kinds of hysteria and public panic, but she didn’t know what else to do. Her aide came in and announced that her car was at the door. "Milliardo is going to have a complete fit. And Yuy, I don’t want to even contemplate what he’s going to do. They’re all going to go ballistic or my name’s not Ann. Son of a bitch." Her aide just winced in sympathy and held the door. ~ * ~ Heero straightened up and glanced at his watch, it was beeping and the code displayed on the face meant he was wanted in his office. He excused himself to the Gunny and left. Wufei snarled in annoyance his watch was beeping, interrupting
the class. It also displayed the code for ‘wanted in office’
he excused himself to the class, handing it over to his second, and
left. "Well, we’re wanted in the meeting room down the hall. Some type of emergency. Let’s go." Zechs rose with a groan. "As long as I don’t have to go back to the lab and deal with those fools anymore. I don’t care what it is." They met the others in the hall just outside the doors. Duo groaned. "I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all. Fuck" Heero took his hand. "I’m not real happy either. What kind of emergency could it be to have all of us in the meeting?" Wufei glanced at Zechs who was biting his lip. "I don’t like it either. Zechs stop that, you’ll make it bleed." "Yes, Meili. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this. Really bad." He took a deep breath. "Well, come on. Staring at the door won’t tell us anything." Zechs opened the door and ushered the others in the room. When he shut the door and turned around he was surprised to see Lady Une standing beside the big table in the center of the room. Duo had gone to the other door and was leaning against the door frame in a hostile posture, his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other. Heero was standing near Duo just looking at her. His face showed no expression at all. Wufei was standing at the foot of the table, one hand on a chair an unreadable expression on his face. Zechs felt his stomach fall into his boots. The look on Une’s face meant that it was bad. Probably very bad. Une paced for a moment, refraining from sitting in the chair at the head of the table. She didn’t want to antagonize anyone and taking that chair surely would. She settled for the chair at the right-hand top of the table. "Gentlemen, please sit down. I need to talk to all of you. It is imperative that you hear me out without interruption." She knew that there was little chance of that but she had to try. Heero settled across from her with Duo on his right, holding his hand. Wufei paced until Zechs sat down, then he settled next to him. Une realized that they were all on the opposite side of the table from her. "Please, I’m sorry to call you on such short notice but there’s a situation. A bad one." Zechs sighed, pushing his bangs off his forehead in an irritable gesture. "Ann, stop beating around the bush. Just spit it out before it chokes you." "Very well. A very important person is being held hostage. We have a real problem as the site is fortified, very secure. Preventers don’t have jurisdiction or sanction to intervene. Um . . . state troopers . . . not that they really exist anymore . . . refuse to claim responsibility. The local police don’t have jurisdiction and the sheriff says point blank that he doesn’t have equipment or men trained to handle the problem. So . . . I am coming to you for help." She looked around the table for a moment as she let the mess sink in. As various expressions flitted across faces, she concentrated on Zechs and Duo. Duo just looked curious and a bit hostile. He was going to give her a chance to either hang herself or convince him they were really needed. Zechs on the other hand just looked impatient. Neither Wufei nor Heero changed expressions in the least, they both wore expressions of polite curiosity. Une tapped her finger on a button on the laptop placed on a side table. The computer projected a presentation introduction into the air. Une outlined the problem, the area and told them all she could about the problem. It took most of two hours. Someone crept in with tea, coffee, and sandwiches on a tray. The food was passed absently from hand to hand around the table. After she had talked herself dry, she looked around the table. Duo was frowning in concentration his animosity either forgotten or put aside. Wufei was patiently waiting for her to wind up. Heero was watching Duo and seemingly ignoring her, she knew he had absorbed every detail. Zechs was absently biting his knuckle putting his brains to work on the puzzle she’d given them. Heero suddenly paled. He kicked Duo gently under the table and then poked Wufei. Both young men turned to him with puzzled expressions. Heero turned to Une. "And just who is the VIP in question?" Une had been afraid of this question since she’d walked in the room. All four looked at her waiting for an answer to that question. "Relena" Duo muttered. "Oh, fuck me sideways." Then pulled a stunned looking Heero out of his chair. Wufei blinked once then sensibly dived under the table. Zechs slowly rose to a rather impressive height. Une
thought he’d grown at least two inches since the last time she’d
seen him. Then she got a really good look at his face. "And just exactly how did you manage this disaster." Zechs towered over the room like a thunder head, his fury plain on his face, his stature threatening. "Now, Milliardo, I know you’re upset. But you’re not doing any of us any good by losing your temper." Wufei made a rude noise and went to Zechs. Duo clutched at Heero before he did something they’d all regret. Wufei petted and cooed until Zechs allowed himself to be coaxed into a chair. Heero simply gripped Duo’s hand and ground his teeth. Une finally admitted that she was at wit’s end to handle the situation and was handing the whole thing over to them without prejudice. They had free rein to do whatever they thought was necessary. The crash as Zechs threw the entire snack tray at a wall surprised Une. Duo and Heero just ducked the flying debris. Wufei just sighed and started trying to calm Zechs again. ~ * ~ I know this chapter is really short but this is the best place to end it. The next chapter will be up within 10 days. (I hope) ~ * ~ If you’re really interested in tamishigiri go here. http://www.dojoofthefourwinds.com/tameshigiri.html
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