03-Sep-2000
Notes: This is a sequel to my story 'The Art Of Losing' or "One Art". The story makes perfect sense to me, and I think it stand alone fine... but if you get confused, you can go read the other part of the story at Tyr's site (GW Addiction).
Warnings: Very very mild suggestions. A tid bit angst...
Big white pillow. The first thing that Quatre saw when he woke up was a big white pillow. In fact, he was cuddling it. Quatre bolted from the bed, and immediately regretted it. The room span dizzily around him. His hands fell in front of him to support his weight as he tried to remember.
Bar fight. Wufei.
The memories of the night came back slowly in shattered pieces. Slowly Quatre stood from the bed, and found his way to the bathroom.
For a moment, he just stared at the reflection of himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and blood shot.
"I cried," Quatre whispered to himself in half disbelief, "I cried on Wufei."
Quatre wasn't sure whether he was more embarrassed for himself, or more surprised that Wufei let him.
Quatre turned on the cold water and splashed it on his face, letting its coldness burn him. He roughly wiped himself with one of Wufei's towels, and walked back into the bed room.
A quick glance at the clock told him it was already five in the afternoon. He really must have been out cold.
It was the first time in his life had been drunk, and he got into a bar fight and woke up on a friend's bed. Quatre decided that the next time he feels like hell, he'd better just bang his head against a wall.
By the bed, he noticed a set of clean clothing laid out for him with a note.
"I will be back. Don't leave. Take a shower, you smell bad."
Quatre stared at the note. He had never seen Wufei's handwriting before. They were in a war together, and yet he had never seen Wufei's handwriting. Then again, there were a lot of things he didn't know about Wufei.
He sniffed himself, and he had to agree with Wufei.
He dragged himself back into the bathroom. Very carefully, he began to unwrap the bandage around his chest.
"Ow, ow, ow," Quatre moaned to himself. There was no use being a tough guy when there was no one around.
When Quatre finally managed to get rid of the bandage he was in so much pain he was cold sweating. His wound still wasn't completely closed.
Quatre sat himself on the counter of the bathroom sink for a moment, taking in deep breaths.
The door to the bedroom opened. Quatre scrambled to get up to close the bathroom door, but by the time he got to the door, he found himself face to face with Wufei.
"Your wound is still open," Wufei noticed immediately.
"I smell bad," Quatre commented, "I still need to shower."
Wufei stared at him evenly. "Wait here," Wufei ordered as he left the room.
Since he was in Wufei's home. Quatre obeyed.
A few moments later, Wufei returned with a small chair and a sponge.
"Wufei?" Quatre asked curiously as Wufei placed the chair in the tub.
"Take off your pants," Wufei commanded.
"What?" Quatre tried not to let his voice squeak.
"You can wear your underwear," Wufei remedied without any noticeable emotion as he motioned for Quatre to sit on the chair in the tub.
If the last twenty-four hours weren't as strange as they were, Quatre would have objected, but as it was, Quatre admitted defeat. He pulled off his pants, and walked to the chair with his black boxers.
Wufei turned on the water at a low volume to avoid splashing Quatre's wound.
Quatre sat tamely as Wufei felt the temperature of the water, and then soaked the sponge into it.
Attentively, Wufei begin to wash Quatre. As the sponge ran across Quatre's back, Quatre felt a trail of wetness along his back. The lukewarm water tingled on his skin. He felt the touch of Wufei's hand for just a second, before it was replaced by the sponge again. Quatre was suddenly very glad he had really large boxers. I will never get drunk again, I will never get drunk again. Quatre silently promised himself as Wufei begin to leather him with soap. Quatre's skin was burning, and he didn't even know why. There was something entrapping about the way Wufei was washing him, and Quatre found himself hypnotized by the motion.
If Wufei noticed anything he didn't show it. Methodically, he washed Quatre's entire body. When he finally deemed Quatre was clean, he stopped, and handed Quatre a towel.
"I will be in the kitchen," Wufei said simply after he was finished.
Quatre waited until he heard the bedroom door close before standing up. His body was reacting violently to Wufei's touch. What the hell just happened? The question raced through Quatre's mind as he dressed himself in Wufei's clean clothes. The shirt smelled incredibly clean. The same smell Wufei always had. Quatre stopped that train of thought.
By the time Quatre got into the kitchen, tempting smell of fried vegetables filled the air.
"You know how to cook?" Quatre asked curiously as he stepped for a closer look.
"Meiran burnt our kitchen down twice. Either I learn how to cook, or I learn to digest charcoal," Wufei answered as his knife skillful dissected a photo to identical size chunks.
Quatre would have laughed if he wasn't certain Wufei was serious.
"In China, all men know how to cook," Wufei continued, "It's an amiable art."
Quatre nodded as he watched Wufei gather all the photo chunks in one scoop and threw it into a hot pot.
"Anything I can do to help?" Quatre offered.
"You can set the table," Wufei said as he threw the potatoes into the air and then caught all of them in the pot again.
"Anything to drink?" Quatre asked, and found himself attacked by a rain of potato chunks.
"Nothing alcoholic!" Wufei warned.
Quatre couldn't help it any more. Wufei just threw potato chucks at him. He burst out laughing, "Okay okay! Just don't send any more potatoes of doom at me!"
To his surprise, Wufei smiled slightly.
"I have some kiwi juice," Wufei said as he pointed at the refrigerator.
"Kiwi juice?" Quatre repeated as he stared at the transparent green liquid in Wufei's refrigerator.
Wufei eyed him evenly, daring him to make a comment.
Quatre wisely got back to setting the table.
When Quatre had finished putting the plates and bowls down, Wufei had produced three dishes on the table.
"I don't have forks, you will have to use chopsticks," Wufei informed the blonde who was staring at the wooden sticks.
Quatre smiled weakly as he picked up one stick with each hand.
The food smelled delicious, but for a few minutes, Quatre just watched Wufei eat while he tried to figure out how to use the darn sticks. Chinese food, or Japanese food even was not readily available around L4.
Finally giving up trying to use the chopsticks the way Wufei was picking up rice, Quatre impaled a chunk of chicken, and stuck the piece in his mouth triumphantly.
Wufei watched Quatre in stupor. Impressed by the amount of food Quatre was able to impale. Wufei even made a small gasping noise when Quatre punctured a piece of potato the size of pea.
"Do you have a lot of stabbing experience?" Wufei finally asked.
Quatre smiled as he took a small eggroll to his mouth. Unfortunately, his gods did not look kindly on gloating, and the eggroll fell on his lap.
Wufei laughed, "I guess not."
Quatre sighed, "Is there any dessert?"
Wufei's eyes flashed slightly, "Yes. Actually today is the Chinese Moon festival."
"Moon festival?" Quatre instantly felt guilty. He was probably keeping Wufei from some important celebrations.
Wufei watched Quatre flash slightly red, "It isn't a big holiday. Just a time for family to get together and eat moon cakes."
Quatre noticed Wufei's eyes lingered on the picture of his wife for a moment.
Wufei turned his attention back to Quatre, "I spent the last three alone."
"Oh," Quatre felt distinctly uncomfortable, while Wufei stood up and retrieved plate of mooncakes.
"Here," Wufei placed the plate in front of Quatre, "Try some."
Quatre admired the intricate design of the mooncakes for a moment before picking up his chopsticks as he tried to stab it.
"No," Wufei grabbed the chopsticks away from Quatre's hand, "You are suppose to eat these with your hands!"
Wufei monitored Quatre picking up the mooncake with his hand before sitting back down into his chair.
"There are many legends surrounding the tradition of moon cakes," Wufei explained as Quatre bit down on the dessert. It was the most delicious thing Quatre had ever tasted in his entire life. The soft flour was filled with light sweet beans inside.
"My favorite legend tells of the Ming warriors. On the old calendar , in the fourteen century, China was controlled by the Mongols. The rebellion hid there vital information in the mooncakes, something the Mongols did not eat, and passed around on the fifteenth day of the eighth month on the Chinese calendar," Wufei's voice was quiet, but the story was punctuated by Quatre wolfing down mooncakes. By the time Wufei had stopped talking, Quatre was starting on his fourth mooncake.
"Don't eat too much, it's not good." Wufei's sentence died in the middle.
Quatre looked up at his friend.
"It's not good for you," Wufei finished softly.
"What's wrong?" Quatre putted the mooncake down.
Wufei laughed a little, "Meiran loved mooncakes. She would eat so much of them she would get a stomach ache."
"I'm sorry," Quatre whispered.
"Don't be sorry," Wufei smiled, "It doesn't hurt to think about her. It took me two wars, but it finally stopped hurting to think about her."
Quatre studied Wufei.
"You and I are a lot alike, you know," Wufei said thoughtfully.
Quatre's eyes widened in surprise.
"We were both misguided pacifists," Wufei continued, "Meiran died because I had refused to fight. So I did the only thing I could. I fought in her place. Somewhere along the line I forgotten what I was fighting for."
Quatre looked away from Wufei's penetrating glance.
"For all the blood on my hands, I kept on asking myself, what would have happen if I had died instead of Meiran," Wufei's voice remained steady, "I kept on telling myself it would have been better if I just kept on being the classics scholar that I was and died on my colony."
Wufei paused, and forced Quatre to look at him.
"Then I remembered what Meiran once told me. In a time of war, I am a soldier before anything else. That is part of who I am, and I cannot run away from myself," Wufei's dark eyes held Quatre's eyes.
"The five of us were chosen for a reason," Wufei went on, "We were soldiers."
"Were we?" Quatre said bitterly, "When I was on earth, I found a old man as he was dying. He thought I was the angel there to take him to heaven because I have my mother's face. But he died from an explosion I had caused. How can I answer to that?" Quatre's voice cracked.
"It's not your fault. You were a soldier. You are not an angel Quatre, don't hold yourself to the standard of one," Wufei's words were firm, "What we look like is not who we are."
More softly he added, "Your mother would have been proud of you, Quatre. You help to stop two wars. Learn to forgive yourself, Quatre, or you will live your life like Treize, forever seeking judgment from others for what you can not forgive yourself for."
Wufei's words burnt through Quatre's mind. Forgive. the word sounded so distant.
Quatre looked impossibly pale in the moon. His skin was almost transparent, like fine china, fragile and beautiful. But like the moon itself, Wufei knew it was an illusion. Immeasurable strength and will laid beneath the soft skin and the blonde hair.
"The moon is coming out, let's go outside," Wufei suddenly suggested as he picked up his glass of kiwi juice and pushed the door of his balcony open.
Quatre followed him silently.
"The moon lit up my room, as if frost had glazed my floor. When I raise my head, only the moon greets me. And when I lower my head in contemplation, the memories of home haunts me," Wufei recited as he stared at the moon.
"A poem?" Quatre asked.
Wufei turned to him, "A bad translation of a really good poem."
"Did you write it?"
Wufei laughed, "No. The poet is Li Bai. A really famous poet. He drowned one night when he tried to capture the moon in the river."
Quatre came closer to Wufei, "That's not a bad way to die."
"Oh?" Wufei faced Quatre curiously.
"Dying trying to capture impossible beauty and tranquillity," Quatre said simply, as he leaned over the railing of the balcony.
Wufei smiled as he put his glass on the railing, allowing it to reflect the moon.
"Or you could bring the moon to you," Wufei whispered as his hand gently covered over Quatre's hand.
"Or you could do that," Quatre felt Wufei's warmth near his body.
The moon in the glass glittered.
~Owari
Trowa: *sob* You never write about me! I'm all alone!
Draco: You get Quatre in a lot of my fics!
Trowa: <ignores Draco> *sniff sniff*
Draco: Awwww. <takes Trowa home>
(:./draco/moon)
