"Well, it's nothing I can't replace," the lead man grumbled. "It'll just be another 6 hours or so before the suit's operational again. Damned little thief! That was quite a piece of work I did on your controls even if I do say so myself, and he dismantled the whole damned thing."
"Bastard!" the mechanic muttered, as he began the climb up the ladder toward's the mecha's controls.
Duo was silent, which, to say the least, was not the normal state of affairs with him.
As a matter of fact, every worker in the hangar, having known Duo for less than 48 hours, could tell nonetheless that the silence hanging over the boy was unnatural. He just didn't wear it with ease, as the thief had done. One by one, they reassured the young pilot that the damage could and would be repaired, agreed with the chief that the other pilot was, indeed, at the level of engine sludge in their opinions, and then moved off quietly to their workstations.
Duo murmured an acknowledgement of their kind thoughts - about a minute after the last man had disappeared around Shinigami's right side. He walked outside of the hangar and sat, knees pulled up to his chin, his back against the cool metal wall. The black cap shaded his large violet eyes, so no one passing by would have see the bewilderment in them.
Snap outta this, man - he was a jerk, plain and simple. Obviously his precious personal mission was more important to him than any friendship I was trying to offer, so who needs him? Certainly not Duo Maxwell, ace gundam pilot, and his mysterious alter ego, Shinigami. We don't need anyone, no way, no how. " 'Sides, there have always been plenty of people who *did* want to interact...I don't have to mope around over that guy...
He's different...you know it...you just won't admit it...and that wasn't just friendship you wanted to give him in that dream...he wanted more...you wanted more...neh?
No no no! It was just a dream - 15-year-olds have them all the time; I read that somwhere, ya know...
He had sat there, not moving, for about five minutes when he heard a soft voice speaking his name. Glancing up, he saw the shadow of a slim figure on the concrete pad in front of him.
"Huh?", his head jerked up, hoping to see the stern-faced Japanese boy, but seeing something altogether stranger instead.
Standing in front of him was...himself. At least, that's what it looked like. The boy had his face and his long, chestnut braid. In place of his own black clericals, the other wore white: slim-fitting white denims and a loose white cotton shirt. From out of the shirt grew two feathery white wings.
Wings?
Duo checked again, peeking out from under the brim of his cap.
Yup, no mistake, the guy has wings. I must have really stripped some gears to be seeing this one. Hell, I don't even need alcohol at this point - just bring on the hallucinations, stone cold sober.
The hallucination itself looked as if it wanted to speak again, but Duo kept his eyes averted, under the cap, not wanting to encourage his own mental breakdown more than he had already.
"He was really beautiful," a boy's voice sighed.
Duo risked a glance. His own lovely face looked back at him, wistful, almost sad, the faintest glimmer of a lopsided, sympathetic grin playing across the lips. Angel Duo lifted a slim hand and beckoned to the boy in black. Turning, it slowly walked down towards the end of the alley that ran beside the hangar, stopping once more to urge Duo to follow it.
"Oh man," Duo muttered, "I've had more than my share of invitations down alleys but this beats them all."
The figure was looking slightly perturbed that his real-life counterpart was not picking up the signals. It swung its head around in Duo's direction and suddenly a cool breeze floated back down the alley, carrying tiny white feathers with it, that made the American pilot sneeze. When he did not immediately stand up, the figure looked away and again swung it's head, the long braid flying out dramatically. Now the tiny feathers were joined by even tinier pale pink cherry blossoms, falling all around the boy in black.
"Ok, OK!", Duo exclaimed - "Knock off the shojo stuff, would you? Geez, what's next, bubbles?"
The beautiful, angelic face scowled mildly at him.
Duo made an elaborate bow, his hands held wide in capitulation.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, don't shed all your tail feathers over this, ok?"
He moved down to the end of the alley where Angel Duo waited. The hallucination had stopped at a point where the alley ended in a wide empty space surrounded by three, gray, cinderblock walls. The angel turned and looked at Duo but said nothing.
"Apparently I have to get the conversation going, eh?," Duo remarked. "Well, you got me here, I'm fully delusional, so what does the delusion want, huh?"
"I wanted him," the soft voice said. "I thought there was something special about him, something between the two of us. But now he's gone..."
"Him?", Duo looked blank for a moment. "Oh him, I see..."
Actually he didn't see, but he thought it wise not to agitate whatever this thing was.
"HIM???" an outraged voice spoke. "HIM??? How can you say that?? As far as I'm concerned, if I never see that catatonic baka ever again it'll be too soon!"
Duo raised a hand to his throat, checking to see whether there was any chance that he himself could have spoken, but no luck. The angel delusion was gazing mournfully over Duo's left shoulder and beginning to pout in a sort of angelic way. Duo turned around in time to see another figure step out of the gray cinderblock.
And this one was much worse.
End of Part II
(:./kumiko/2shot8)
