07-Jan-2001
Yes, this fic finally has another part! If you need to review parts 1 and 2 (or refresh yourself on what the HED [Heero-English Dictionary] and HST [Heero Standard Time] are), they are at GW Addiction under Cutter.
And I'm sorry for lurking, minna! I didn't mean to this time, I swear! I guess I'm just living a little more in reality right now, which might be good and which will probably change soon. I think of you all, and love to you.
Notes: I don't have quite the same writing style anymore, but I tried to get as close as I could, and where I couldn't to take the fic in a new direction that made sense within what I already had set up. Yes, another poem in the story. And I'm sorry in advance, because my poems make best sense when I speak them, so that the flow is there... but I can't speak to you over Egroups yet. So this imperfect medium is all I have.
WARNINGS, ETC.: If you steal my poetry, I will eat your heart. My poetry belongs to me alone, such as it is. However, the names "Duo" and "Heero" are things *I* stole from Bandai, etc., and you know what? I'm not the least bit sorry. ^_~
Other warnings, hmmm, let's see... Duo wants Heero. That would qualify this as shounen ai. The name "Kurosawa" is mentioned.
Poetry Notes: No, the ellipses (those ... 's) are not part of the poem itself; they're just to make it clear that that's where the break in Duo's thought comes, and then where he picks up his thought again. Yes, "snap-shot" is hyphenated for a reason.
~blah~ = poetry
/blah/ = Duo's thoughts
/Ah, history. History can't be boring, right?... Well, history can't be *as* boring, right? It's dynamic, there's some great fight scenes, and you can argue with the people who wrote the texts./ Duo sauntered into the classroom, barely noticing the sighs as he flipped his trademark wave at all the girls, and sat down. It wasn't that girls weren't interesting to him or that he didn't have a healthy appreciation for a nice set of female curves; it was just... well, a certain heartless Spandex bastard currently held his attention.
After getting out his class notebook, Duo took a look at the white board.
"Movie Day" was written neatly in the upper left hand corner.
"Yes!" he hissed. /It may not be my life or even my day, but it's definitely my hour. Naptime, here I come! What better sleep- inducing drug than the classroom documentary?/
However, Duo's plans were foiled by one Mr. Zeller, who was the History teacher and who seemed to have actual taste. Mr. Zeller bustled in a nanosecond after the bell announcing the beginning of class, made a hurried 'hello,' and popped in a Kurosawa movie. "This will supplement our study of feudal Japan, as well as be a fun thing to watch--even if we do have to split it up over two class periods."
"That's a crime... " Duo muttered to himself before he was aware of it. He *liked* samurai movies. /Well, looks like no nap today./
Heero kicked him.
/Wha--? I said that out loud. Oops./ Luckily, Mr. Zeller seemed to agree with him. So much so that the entire class was treated to a tirade about the injustice of being forced to watch a movie in two sittings, when any movie that doesn't suffer being split up isn't necessary for viewers anyway.
Duo was reminded of Wufei, somehow.
Heero's "Hn" in the background seemed to agree. (HED: "'Hn': 1. 'Quit attracting attention.' 2. 'You will be punished later for subjecting me to this lecture as well as annoying our classmates.' 3. 'He *does* sound like Wufei... '")
Quashing the childish urge to stick out his tongue at his partner ("Heero" and "tongue" were two more words that could be very dangerous in the same thought), Duo settled himself in his vid- watching position and turned his attention to the screen.
Miraculously, twenty minutes later he was still paying attention... sort of. Duo had no idea what the plot was, but the colors on the screen were mesmerizing. Kind of... vibrant and flat at the same time. All kinds of colors were being used as polars, complements, negatives, primaries--but, being Shinigami and all, it is probably not surprising that one Duo Maxwell's thoughts were focused primarily on what was black and white. Horses, kimono, flags. Opposites, complete and utter opposites... much like himself and Heero.
Duo groaned internally. This was the longest he'd actually been distracted from Heero all day, and apparently the gods of teenage torture had decided it was time. /Dammit, I was *enjoying* myself!/ He made a mental note to himself to explain (with his scythe) to said gods sometime exactly why *he* was Shinigami and they were sadistic fuckers who got their jollies making stock dialogue out of his love life.
Sometime. As soon as he'd gotten the image of black, white, and Heero out of his head.
By Heero Standard Time, he still had half an hour of Kurosawa left, and Duo knew he might as well give up. Sighing inaudibly (no use adding to the verbal--or physical--lashing he knew he'd be getting from the Stoic One later), he slid his poetry notebook open. /Negative, negative, negative... like me right now... /
~~You, not-pure, live your life in white and
you are everyone's inverse, white not-seen~~
/You don't want anyone to see you, do you? If anyone understands you, you'll have lost that much hardness... maybe you're not granite at all but polished marble... all you want to do is reflect me back at myself. If I get inside, "korosu"'s the word./
The room was narrowing, and Duo saw only the paper in front of him and a pair of flat, reflective eyes. /My fate to want you, I guess... this is another form of death wish, one for me and one for you. But if you are white and I am black, then I can never meet you, anywhere... one touch would shatter us both./
~~I, black, can't make gray out of us yet I
can't touch you you are everything I
am not my anti-matter lover who leaves
everywhere in explosions white because
nothing can be dark misunderstood in
your world you kill all cancers, you kill
crazy people I can't touch you but I will... ~~
/I will what?/ Duo suddenly realized his teeth were clenched so hard his face ached. /If I get any more creative or any more in love, I'm going to need a jaw splint. Why do I *want* to touch him, if that would burn us both? I'm Death in priest's clothing... he's an assassin with no fashion sense... shit. Fucking shit. I know. I will... /
~~... never escape because Death is your medium
flat, cold you are two-dimensional snap-shot
and I two-dimensional need, but there is no
light in my universe or I can't stay alive black,~~
At this point, it was later said, Duo Maxwell (Pilot 02), realized the exact depth of the shit he was in.
/Naturally. The slightest bit of real hope would destroy everything I am. Which is why I fixate on Heero, whom I know I can't get. And why I fully expect to die at any time. Which I will do in a large metal machine. In the middle of outer space./
/That's the nature of light and dark./
/Would whoever's up there please turn the damned soap opera music off?!/
~~you fascinate me
you are my Death if I
smash you I can survive
alone, but if you smash me
you'll take over my job~~
/I can't do that to you. You don't need more shit./
~~I don't want your oblivion
You don't need my scythe
we live together only back-to-back,
not touching, I will do this for
us when I want to burn myself into you
I will be your photographic negative~~
Duo was unaware of how hard he was clenching his pencil until it snapped. The pointed end flew halfway across the room, causing people to give him funny looks.
/Well, I guess I know why, now./
It was time for lunch.
End Part 3
That's all for now! Part 3 goes out to all the people who have harassed me for more parts to this fic. I hope you enjoyed it and that it lived up to your expectations. ::crosses fingers::
Consider it a late Christmas present, ne?
(:./cutter/desk3)
