1998
Heero swatted at a low-hanging branch that blocked his path. The trek from the OZ facility had been uneventful - welcome fruit of a well-planned escape route. Add to that the satisfaction of a mission accomplished without mishap.
Well, if one discounted the unanswered confirmatory message, that is.
In the fey darkness of the moonlit night, Heero glowered, knitting his brows in consternation. Throughout his trudge, the Japanese pilot replayed various scenarios - one after another - trying to hit on what might have happened to his partner.
The conclusion he finally came up with was not one he'd like to entertain. Duo might have been discovered, captured or killed. But that possibility was highly remote, Heero decided as he walked up to the edge of the copse.
Duo had had enough experience infiltrating into schools and getting out unscathed. Granted that this time, the school chosen had some affiliation with OZ. But - Heero glanced up the empty dirt track. Almost there! - they had timed the infiltration perfectly. The chances of contact were minimal. Almost nil. There was no way OZ could have discovered the two pilots posing as students. No way!
Besides, Wufei had made it out fine, and the Chinese boy was less experienced in that aspect compared to Duo.
So what could have gone wrong?
Perhaps there was a power failure, Heero hazarded. Or Duo punched in the wrong code. Or perhaps the baka simply forgot standard procedure.
Impossible.
"Feh! The idiot had better have a good excuse," Heero muttered darkly as he reached the rendezvous spot. Shit! He just hoped Duo showed up.
The sight of a fallen motorcycle froze him in his tracks.
Tearing down barely used dirt tracks across the sparse woods, away from the main roads, Duo gritted his teeth as he leaned into the wind. The speedometer had almost registered maximum speed but still the young pilot twisted the throttle fiercely. In the back of his mind, something told him that he had no time to spare, and that getting to the rendezvous point where he was to meet up with Heero in the shortest time possible was of paramount importance.
Perhaps it was the same something that made him sweat despite the freezing coldness of the wind whipping his face and body. The something that made his teeth chatter despite the fact that he was clamping down on them so hard it almost hurt.
If he didn't feel so numb, that is.
Duo knew what it was. Shock. Plain and simple.
Though why he was feeling it was a mystery. He hadn't been injured -
A protesting throb from his right foot begged otherwise.
Well - okay, there was that.
But it was just a twisted ankle, right? Nothing serious, ne? So why...
Duo pushed the question from his mind as he rounded the last corner in the dirt road. The boy grinned, relief washing over his drawn features.
Just another kilometre and he'd be there, waiting for Heero. Another two minutes was all he needed. Then he could give in to this strange drowsiness that had somehow crept up on him sometime during the journey from the school. Already his vision was blurring at the edges. Dark spots danced before him haphazardly, threatening to completely block out whatever little he could see at the moment.
Narrowing his eyes in concentration, the longhaired boy focussed on one point in the distance. This was going to be one hell of a long kilometre.
The Japanese boy ran the remainder of the distance separating him and the fallen vehicle, a single word - a single name - on his mind.
The front wheel of the motorcycle was stationary, jutting up into the air at an awkward angle. Obviously, the bike had fallen over some time ago.
Part of the motorcycle was buried among some leafy bushes, the dark night shadows hiding most of its chassis effectively. Only the pale gleam of moonlight against chrome wheel rims betrayed the presence of the overturned vehicle. And even that was minimal.
Even in such a situation, Shinigami was in character.
And speaking of Shinigami, where was Death?
Heero pulled at the handlebars, tugging the motorcycle away from the undergrowth that held it captive. From the position of the motorcycle, the boy surmised that this was probably a case of a moving vehicle hitting an immovable object.
Specifically, a stout tree.
Heero humphed. How could someone know how to pilot a Gundam and yet couldn't steer a motorbike?
A quick, appraising glance revealed no major damage to the vehicle.
But where the hell was the -
A slim, dark-clad leg poked out of the undergrowth, earlier hidden by the bulk of the motorcycle.
The Japanese boy started at the sight.
"Duo?" he gasped, surprised.
But why should you be surprised, Heero Yuy? Wasn't that the first thing that popped into your mind when you saw the toppled motorbike? Didn't your heart skip a beat when you didn't immediately spot the rider? Didn't you break out in a cold sweat when Duo didn't answer your messages? Why should you be so surprised?
"Chik'so!" Heero spat, hating the questions that taunted him in his own voice. He hated the way they sounded in his head - so snide and obsequious. He hated the fact that he couldn't answer them without admitting that...that...
Damn it! He hated them. Period!
Working swiftly, Heero dragged away the heavy motorcycle with little effort, rummaging among the bushes until his questing hands encountered a limp arm.
"Duo!" he called out harshly, pulling sharply at the arm. The anger he felt upon realising that the accident was probably a result of Duo's carelessness quickly slipped away when there was no response, physical or verbal, from the braided pilot. A little more hesitantly, Heero tugged his friend out of where he had been lying.
"Baka!" Heero breathed, desperately trying to fool himself into feeling angry, irritated. Anything but the alarmed concern that threatened to boil over his rapidly beating heart.
A violet eye cracked open, shining with wicked glee.
"Boo!"
For once, Heero Yuy's brain overflowed with words that tripped and stumbled over themselves in their haste to exit the jumbled synapses of his mind, past his suddenly too-slow tongue. Multitudes of curses and choice profanities tumbled forth in no particular order.
If they were bricks, Duo Maxwell would be as flat as a pancake.
"Ack! Heero! Matte! Ow!" Duo ineffectually pulled at Heero's hands on his shirt, succeeding only minutely in getting the Japanese pilot to stop shaking him.
"You idiot!" Heero cried, aware that he was near shouting, but too angry to care. "What the Hell did you think you were doing? What in God's name did you think you were achieving? Do you think this is a game? A joke? Something to laugh about? Did you...you...you..."
Duo stared back at him, open-mouthed. Too surprised at the short-haired boy's outburst to volunteer even one tiny smart-aleck quip.
"H..Heero," Duo gasped out finally, when the violent shaking abated somewhat. "Gomen ne. I...Jeez! I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd..."
"That's the problem with you, Maxwell! You don't think! You don't..Ah! Why bother!?!" Heero let go of Duo's shirt, pushing the other boy violently against the tree, which Duo had been leaning against when he'd found him earlier.
"Matte Heero! Oi!" Duo reached out for Heero's arm, pulling the Japanese boy short.
"What?!?" Heero spat, whirling around at the braided boy's touch.
"Saa...Heero, I'm sorry," Duo blurted, suddenly at a loss for words. He never realised Heero would react this violently. In fact, he never thought the boy would react at all. He never even planned it, actually. He was just catching a few winks - well-deserved, he thought. He'd never expected Heero to be so..so...concerned!
Twin points of cobalt light burned in Heero's face. Inside, Duo quailed. He'd seldom seen Heero so angry. And being the object of Heero Yuy's anger was not a comfortable feeling. In fact, it bordered on the homicidal.
Duo Maxwell did the only thing that came naturally.
He grinned.
A little forced, and a lot nervous.
But a grin, nonetheless.
Heero's eyes narrowed, the angry points of blue menace sharpened to dangerous splinters of opaque crystal.
Nervously, Duo shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. He could feel the cold trails of sweat drip down the back of his neck. This felt worse than being back at the school!
Well, okay. That was an exaggeration, Duo reprimanded himself. But this felt close!
And the silence was - cliché as it may seem - truly deafening.
Heero humphed and turned away abruptly, the angry huff heavy in the air. He walked quickly to retrieve his discarded haversack, which had fallen - or had he thrown it off his back? He couldn't recall - some ways away from the motorcycle. When had it slipped off his back? He remembered shifting it to his shoulder during his walk to the rendezvous point. He remembered the weight of it across one shoulder as he approached the clearing. But the sight of that fallen motorcycle, the sight of the unmoving leg and subsequently, the sight of Duo's slack face...
Something had snapped within him, switching off everything but the very basic of reactions.
And the baka was just asleep!
Damn him!
Heero stood still, fingering the straps of the haversack as he eyed the lithe, black-clad body of his partner righting the motorcycle. He had come close, so close to actually hitting him. When the violet-eyed boy had surprised him, laughing when he'd thought that Duo had been hurt - the first thought that flew through Heero's numb mind was to give that damned Shinigami pilot the hug of his life. But then, the onrush of embarrassment and anger had drowned those tender thoughts; frustration and relief had rolled into one and he had lost control.
Heero shook his head slightly at his own lapse. It had been unlike him, he knew. He'd never lost that much control of himself before - and this was definitely not a situation that warranted losing one's control. Not a time or a place to show emotions that he'd never thought himself capable of feeling, much less show. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, exorcising the remaining phantoms of anger that still raged in his heart.
K'sou!
What was Duo doing to him?!?
Duo leaned the motorcycle against the tree and untied his haversack off the pillion seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Heero walking back towards him, haversack carelessly flung over one shoulder. The heavy brows still knitted in a frown, and the lips still turned down at the corners in a dark scowl. But the anger in the dark blue eyes no longer flashed quite so menacingly. Duo sighed loudly with relief. It'd be at least another day before they reached their base, and he did not relish the thought of having a dangerously furious Heero riding behind him.
Life was already short enough.
"Ready to go, Heero?" Duo asked cheerily, adjusting the weight of the haversack on his back. "We've got a long ride ahead."
Heero ignored him and walked past the smiling long-haired boy.
Duo's smile fell.
Was he still pissed off? Sheesh...
The Japanese boy brushed against Duo brusquely, pushing him back slightly as he climbed onto the motorcycle and started the engine. Heero revved the engine slightly before turning back to the silent Shinigami pilot.
"Well? What're you waiting for?" Heero shrugged his haversack off his shoulder and moved it over to his front.
"Oh! Oh yeah...um..yeah.. okay," Duo stuttered, surprised out of his stupor. This was a turn, he thought as he grabbed onto Heero's strong, steady shoulders and hoisted himself onto the slightly raised pillion seat. A soft grunt involuntarily escaped his lips as his ankle reminded him that it needed some attention. And soon, by the feel of it, Duo grimaced.
"What's wrong?" Heero asked over the sound of the softly sputtering engine.
"Huh? Oh...nothing. Just a slight sprain..."
"Sprain?"
"New sports injury," Duo laughed.
Heero turned the throttle and the two boys sped off down the dirt road.
"Does it hurt much?" Heero shouted back into the rushing wind.
"No. Not really. Only when I laugh, ha ha!"
"I'm serious!"
"So am I!" Duo answered with a pout.
"Duo!" Heero growled threateningly. "This isn't the time for games!"
"Oh alright, already! It hurts! Happy? Jeez! Since when did you become such a mother hen? Since when did you care whether I hurt or not?"
Since...
I don't know.
Heero remained silent. When, indeed? And why?
He didn't have the answers, but he knew what he felt.
"We'd better have a look at it soon, then," he said softly, just loud enough for Duo to catch the wistful tinge to his voice.
Duo frowned. What the hell was wrong with Heero? Where was the cold, unfeeling robotic maniac he was so familiar with? Who was this imposter he was leaning against? Who inhabited this warm body that sheltered him from the cold, buffeting wind?
Who was this stranger who actually seemed like he cared?
He could begin to like him...
End Part Six
Shirin
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