Title: May We Never Meet Again
Author: Sorceress Fantasia
Archive: Lev's Lair
Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I don't own any of the GW boys. I think I scared them all away. ^^; Luckily, this little piece of ficcy can't run because it hasn't got legs, so yea, I own it.
Thanx to Lily Kalanoa for beta-ing! ^^
The familiar clicking of the keyboard filled the room, as did the eerie green light of the computer screen. The bed was made, with the thin blanket meticulously folded to perfect squares. The tiled floor was clean, and not a thing was lying out of place.
This was his room. His perfectly tidy and clean room.
But it was also a room that had nothing of Duo.
Duo's room would have his favourite music, which was whatever was on the charts, on full blast. The room would be lit up by candlelight, and the white candles would be extinguished before he went to bed. The bed would always be a rumpled mess, and the scent of lovemaking permeated the sheets. The thin blanket would cover just a little above his shoulders, the way he liked it to be. And the floor would be littered with his clothes, those that he had been too impatient to hang up behind the door. The bed was *always* rumpled.
His room was definitely not Heero's style, but he liked it. It was a constant reminder of Duo's presence in his life. The nondescript, bland thing that was his life had lightened up considerably with Duo's appearance. And his lover had promised him that after the war, they would buy a house by the sea and live together forever. Heero could just imagine the dishes in the sink, the towels on the bathroom floor, the hi-five set shaking the windows and of course, the rumpled bed. He loved it.
He smiled, knowing that his room would soon have Duo's touches. His mission had ended hours ago, and he would be coming back soon.
His computer beeped, signaling an incoming email. He clicked on it, hoping that it wasn't a mission specs for him. Duo would get mad if he left before he could come back.
But it wasn't, and Heero felt his blood go cold.
01, mission blew. Gundam 02 detonated, and pilot 02 is missing.
Heero did not know what went through his mind, but vaguely felt his fingers tremble. Soon, his mind still blank, his fingers danced across the keyboard in precise clicks, sending a report to his superiors that pilot 02 was MIA. And probably dead. His typing never missed a beat, not even when droplets of water fell onto his hands and the keyboard.
The hard clicking remained into the night, as did the eerie green light.
There would be no more of Duo's touches in the room.
People around him leapt for joy, crying in elation that the war torn world was finally experiencing peace for the first time in decades. They gathered their loved ones close and the fireworks streaked across the dark skies, lighting up the black blanket enshrouding the world and the hearts of the survivors.
The four gundams stood proudly in the distance, overlooking the cheering crowds like guardians of the much-awaited peace that had finally arrived.
Quatre and Trowa clinked their champagne glasses together, the crisp sound strangely missing in the sonorous celebrations. Wufei stood at the side, drinking his own alone. Relena was on the podium, looking down at the throng of people like the white dove of peace everyone adored.
Only Heero Yuy, the savior of the world, was missing. He had slipped into the darkness on his own, preferring it over the brightness of everywhere else. Amidst the weeping people swarming the streets, his tears seemed insignificant and his disappearance was not noted.
Weeks later, he settled down in a house by the sea.
Heero never made his bed anymore. The bed was nearly always messy, until his fastidious nature stepped in and cleaned up before he knew it. But the scent was still missing.
The hi-five set was nearly never shut down either. He didn't have any neighbours, and no one would complain even if it were on full blast for a whole week. It was better that way, or it would be too quiet. No one talked anyway. The songs flowing out of the system kept the place noisy. But his inner self would materialize every once in a while and turn it off.
White candles lined his bedroom in neat lines, but they were never lit up. The sea breeze always blew them out. And there was no one to light them anyway.
Dirty dishes would gather cobwebs as they lay in the sink, and the towels on the bathroom floor were never picked up until he forgot and slipped on them.
This was the house he had imagined. This was the house he had always wanted.
But Duo was not there to share it with him.
No matter how hard he tried, the house never felt like home. And Heero suspected that without Duo, it never would be.
Duo didn't leave his towels beside the laundry basket; he left them right outside the shower curtains. Duo's candles were seldom in a straight line. Only rock music blasted through his hi-five set. His blanket was always warm, almost like a cocoon that sheltered him from the rest of the world.
Heero knew all that, but never remembered when he tried imitating. The house was nothing like he had imagined. No, it wasn't what he wanted. It looked like it was, but it wasn't.
Heero stared hard at the content grin on Duo's face as he lay rumpled in the sheets, silently beckoning him to come. He didn't dare move, or risk the dream fading. Duo tossed his hair behind his back, and mouthed his love for him. No, Heero couldn't resist that. His lover's chestnut tresses were always his undoing.
And they still were.
The image disappeared once he laid his fingers on the tempting braid, and Heero fell onto the bed. He clutched the blanket close, and got a whiff of his lover's unique scent though it was never there.
He opened his eyes, and spied his lover leaning against the bedroom door. But he would not move this time.
For days, the house by the sea remained the way it was. Loud music, dim lights, and messy floors. The battered laptop, which had seen much better days, stood silently on the desk, its green lights and soft humming providing yet another new characteristic of the place.
Something caused the mouse to move, and the screensaver stopped abruptly. The screen was occupied by Heero's email program, and out of the numerous lines of text, only one line stood out.
We've found Duo. Come here now.
Heero peered across the streets.
Some teenagers were playing basketball in the court. All of them were skilled players, passing and dribbling the ball with accuracy and precise moves. But one of them stood out; his agility and speed too fast, his skills too adroit for others to match. And when he smiled, everything about him outshined all the others on the court.
Heero moved closer to the court, and stopped under a tree beside it.
The player's jagged bangs and wisps of short chestnut hair captivated him so. His violet eyes shone even more brightly under the sun. His slender and lithe body cut through the wind, and Heero remembered the feel on his hands on that body. His cheerful voice could be heard over the game, and Heero reminisced the way his body would tremble at that voice.
Yes, he remembered everything about Duo Maxwell, his missing lover.
But Andy Cunningham remembered nothing about Heero Yuy.
When he had received news from Quatre that Duo had been found, he had expected to find his beautiful lover recuperating and waiting for him. But Quatre had only found Andy Cunningham, a shell of what Duo Maxwell had been. His lost love had been rescued after his final mission by a kind Samaritan, but the man had failed to rescue his fleeting memories. Now, Duo was only a normal civilian teenager who didn't know what had happened to him during the war, much less the role he had played in achieving the peace the world now enjoyed.
Suddenly, the ball came flying his way, and Heero caught it reflexively. He was about to throw the ball back into the court when Andy jogged up to him, and he froze.
"Hey, you wanna play? You've been standing here for quite a while." He asked, flashing a gamine grin.
Heero felt his heart constrict, and his mind brought him back to the time when Duo had asked him for a one on one in a basketball court in school. He had held out a hand, just like he did now.
He remembered Duo talking to him. Remembered gathering Duo into his arms and tasting his sweet lips that reminded him of ambrosia. Remembered Duo kissing him back with equal ferocity.
But when he opened his eyes, he saw only the normal teenager waiting for an answer. He was innocent to the bloodshed and darkness of Duo Maxwell, oblivious to his painful past and losses.
Heero returned the ball, tossing it lightly to Andy.
"No, thank you." He answered, and turned to leave.
Duo would never have to live a life of fighting anymore. Andy would remain like this, and Duo… Duo would only live on in his heart and memories.
He turned away, heading for his car that would take him back to his house. The empty structure that reminded himself of how empty he was inside. The thing that Duo had promised but would never happen. And the place where he would have to go on with his life alone… without Duo.
It was only fair to Duo, giving him a chance at normal life. And he would have to learn to accept it, even if he would never be able to bring himself to see Duo again, or risk the phantasmagoria flashing before his eyes, the image of his bubbly love superimposed over a stranger.
'Sayonaro, love. May we never meet again.'
Sorceress Fantasia 12th August 2003
Last beta-ed 8th September 2003