1998
"We have to WHAT?" Duo couldn't believe his ears. Their operatives dreamed up of some damn near incredible missions, and most of them had some semblance of logic. But a few bordered on pure stupidity. Granted that they were merely expendable manpower in this god-forsaken war, but that did not give the powers-that-be any more right to send them into suicidal situations. "But, that's crazy!" the braided boy protested. "That's almost the damn center of the damn OZ manufacturing ...!"
"It's the mission," Heero replied coldly. "We still have to go through with it."
Duo eyed the sullen-faced boy warily. How different Heero was when he was confronted with an official order. Just a few hours ago, the short-haired boy had seemed almost human, almost seemed like he had a heart. But now, he seemed so mechanical, accepting orders without question, even if it meant that he would be walking into a death trap.
"You're crazy," Duo muttered under his breath. How could he have actually thought that Heero'd listen to whatever he'd have to say? Somewhere in Duo's mind, a small voice whispered: "Aren't you glad you shut up? This was the person you'd wanted to trust? This was the person you nearly bared your soul to? Wasn't it a blessing that you let your head do the thinking for once?"
Somehow, those words hurt. And somehow, it hurt more because *he* was thinking them, *he* was admitting to himself that perhaps, just perhaps, his judgement had been wrong. And he'd wanted it so much to be right...
Duo ran his fingers through his still-damp hair, loosely braided to allow the strands to dry after the rain. Sometimes life never made any sense, he conceded, but you just had to go on living...
At least, until you die.
Which was what he'd really been wanting to do until recently. Since...
No. That was not something he wanted to remember or think about.
He had been surprised that Heero, of all people, had been the first to confront him about his behaviour. Or lack of. In fact, he'd been surprised that anyone had noticed it in the first place. He'd always prided himself on keeping his mask on whenever he wasn't alone. It was an art that had taken him more than a decade to perfect.
Obviously it still wasn't.
Unconsciously, Duo drifted towards the table, coming together with the rest of the pilots as they went over the details of the mission. Almost against his will, the discussion of the upcoming mission tugged at him, intrigued him. Perhaps this was what drove Heero to do what he does, to put his heart -- if he had any -- and his soul -- whatever little there was of it -- into whatever mission he was involved in. Perhaps, Duo thought, this was what fuelled all of them everyday, giving them just that little purpose to a life that did not seem any brighter no matter where they turned or how they looked at it.
After all, this was war, the boy smirked inwardly, and people died. Hell! They could die that very day. So why not die while doing something worthwhile? Yes, it was crazy, but had he expected any less? War was stupid and crazy and probably started by crazy people. And they - five stupid boys turned willing pawns - were probably among the stupidest and craziest people around.
And he had given up on being sane a long, long time ago anyway. It just wasn't worth it. Being sane meant that you had to think of all the people you hurt, and those that hurt you back, all the people you'd killed, all the people that you may have to kill.
And some may even be your friends.
So sanity wasn't worth it.
It hurt too much.
"Right," Quatre's voice cut through Duo's thoughts, drawing him into the present. "So basically, what we have to do is plant this virus into their system, get out and trigger it. Sounds easy, ne?" the small blonde grinned.
The rest of the pilots automatically grinned back, except Trowa, who merely smiled. And Heero, who merely smirked.
"Not!" the five boys chorused almost simultaneously.
"Okay," Quatre sighed, spreading the printout over the table surface. After almost an hour of hacking into old city records, they'd finally come up with the floor plans to the OZ facility they were supposed to break into. The facility was huge, consisting of several wings which housed personnel quarters and offices. Other sections held the technical laboratories and workshops, and large areas were reserved for manufacturing and assembling activities, among others.
"And this is just the main building..." Wufei whistled, impressed.
Five pairs of eyes scanned the large sheet of paper, taking in the positions of individual hangars, storage buildings, sentry points, checkpoints and various entrances.
"This is like a fortress!" Duo groaned. "How the hell are we ever gonna get in there?" He placed his hands behind his head with a pout. "Can't we just blow it up?" Duo suggested, brightening visibly.
A murderous glance from Heero silenced the braided pilot considerably.
"There has to be a way," Trowa's low voice interjected. "This is a manufacturing facility, right?" he asked rhetorically, piercing green eyes hovering over each of the boys in turn, before finally settling on the blonde directly in front of him. "And they'll need quite a lot of personnel, ne?"
"So they probably have...recruitment drives!" Quatre exclaimed. "And it shouldn't be too hard to infiltrate and replace some minor worker..." the boy nodded, blue eyes lighting up with excitement. Heero was already at the computer terminal before Quatre's sentence was completed, already calling up relevant information from the databanks.
"Anything?" Duo asked, leaning against the chair Heero was seated at.
"Umm...yeah. Hold on," the short-haired boy muttered as he downloaded the information. Seconds later, the printer whirred to life, churning out printouts which Duo snatched as soon as they emerged from the machine.
"Yeah, we're in luck, I guess," the long-haired boy muttered at Heero, skimming over the printout with a trained eye. "They're recruiting tomorrow."
"You know," Heero's voice sailed above the sound of the shower, "I meant what I said back there."
"What?" Duo's muffled voice asked, slightly overpowered by the splashing of the water against the tiles and against his flesh. The long-haired boy squinted as an errant stream of soapy water seeped through the corner of an eye.
"Ch'!"
|The water feels good after the cold rain. Hot and steaming - washing away whatever knots left in my muscles after this morning's run. I wonder what Heero's saying out there?
It's too relaxing in here. I feel like curling up on the floor and just letting the water run over my skin, seeping wherever it will, washing away whatever it can.
It would be too easy to just give up and hide away, wouldn't it? I run. I hide. So it shouldn't be a problem, right?
But I don't lie.
And running away would be the same as lying, wouldn't it? Lying to myself...and Heero.
Heero.
What did he mean this morning? When he said that I was running away from...from us? Us? Since when had there ever been an 'us'? And anyway, he was always the one doing the running, and I the chasing. Strange, come to think of it.
It started as a game, a challenge. To see whether anything could get under his skin. His oh so perfect skin. I wonder when I started looking at him in that way...
But...
No.
Heero would never consider it. Ever. That's why getting...well...trying to get to him became such an enjoyable pastime, I suppose.
He was challenging.
And why the hell do I even think of him that way? Why do I keep wishing that there might be something in this, that perhaps...No. No way. Uh-uh. We're the same, he and I. There couldn't be more than friendship, ne? At the most we could perhaps be close comrades, maybe the brother I never had. Like Solo had been. There would never be more than that. Get a grip on yourself, Duo. Face the facts.
And especially not now. Not after...
No. Not ever. I...I can't...
Why is this whole shitty thing so confusing? Why the hell - How the hell! - do I even feel this way?
Yet...
It was so wonderful to see him smile whenever I make fun of his uptight attitude. And yeah, Heero can be damn uptight. It feels so good to hear him laugh. His eyes smile. That's precious. I don't think I've ever seen his eyes smile for anyone else.
Except me.
And when he responded...
Even small gestures of attention or ...Dare I call it caring?...Why did I feel so...so...so damned happy? And why is he so fuckin' attractive?
Damn!
But that doesn't change anything, does it? Doesn't change what's happened. Doesn't make a damn difference...
"Duo!" Heero called, rapping his knuckles on the bathroom door. "Hurry up! And don't you dare use up all the hot water!"
"Aww Heero! You sure know how to spoil a guy's fun, don't you?" the other boy shouted back, a hint of playful annoyance in his voice.
"Hn! You're not the only one who wants to have fun, okay?" the Japanese boy retorted, leaning against the wall beside the bathroom door.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm almost done," Duo's voice answered back, no longer drowned by the sound of the shower.
"Spoilsport," the long-haired boy pouted as he walked out of the bathroom, vigorously towelling the long, brown hair that trailed over his skin in wet, curling tracks.
For a little while, the Japanese pilot was silent, not knowing what to say, or what to think as he stared at Duo, taking in the wet hair, wet skin and happy grin.
"Oi!" Duo chuckled, peering at him curiously through straggling bangs. "Get in there, already!"
"Um... yeah," Heero muttered as he ducked into the bathroom, feeling a slightly warm feeling creep up his cheeks and a sudden tightness in his groin.
End Part One
Shirin
Please send comments to: shirini@pc.jaring.my