Kiss The Sky [Epilogue]

Sometimes life gets so tiresome you don't know what you're supposed to do about it. You tell yourself that the way you live your life is flawless, believing that all things are the way they should be. You achieve more than anyone else before you has and you become so jaded that you don't even attempt to communicate with the rest of the world. What happens when your lie is so intricate that it leads to an eventual truth? What happens when the lie is more than just a lie?

I've known Trowa Barton all my life. I've lived through all his tantrums, depression, and indifference. His life used to be one of endless monotony but I've seen through it all and have finally found my peace. In fact, I am proud to report that he is now happily involved with someone. His sister has also found herself engaged to Jules. Remember him, the guy who works for Quatre? It seems Trowa's preoccupation with someone else other than himself gave Cathy the opportunity to make a relationship work for her too. It's just fabulous the way things have changed. Is everything perfect, you ask? Not the least bit.

Trowa argues with Quatre almost non-stop. They do take momentary breathers for their tongue-hockey sessions. In fact, tongue-hockey has now progressed to the art of hickey-crafting. Those two would walk around with hickeys the size of dollar coins, not the least bit ashamed about showing them off. Flagrant disregard of decency? No. I'd say it's unabashed pride for their newfound happiness.

So alright, hickey marks may be more than just about pride. Those two are so bizarre it drives the common man to tears. Here's the perfect scenario. It's three pm and Quatre comes into the lab to assist Trowa. Before he could start his first sentence, his phone goes off, which causes him to hurl it across the room and into the trash bin. Imagine how many of those things he buys on a regular basis. Things are going smoothly when all of a sudden, Trowa asks Quatre to help him out, forgetting to stop himself from saying something thoughtless. Quatre reacts and before you know it, they're screaming like uncivilized monkeys. In fact, the monkeys join in. Trowa's lab is turned into the pits of hell.

Ten minutes later, they're so tired from screaming that they have to stop. During that time, Trowa sits down to catch his breath but the problem is it never happens. Before he could breathe out, he'd be breathing through Quatre's mouth, which slowly makes its way to his neck. You can guess how entranced the students waiting outside the lab would be when they see what's going on inside. Thank goodness Trowa hasn't been kicked out yet.

I must admit that I do enjoy all the little oddities. It's the strange sequence of events that keep Trowa alive. In fact, it's changed him a lot. He's no longer the uptight man he used to be but he could still be a pompous jerk when given the chance. Some things are hard to change, of course. His research has been progressing well enough and his monkeys are as happy as ever. Who wouldn't be happy if you had Quatre cleaning out your poop for you? His students are now twice as likely to come to class to listen to his boring lectures. Why? Because he knows how to deal with them; he's learned how to deal with people.

What about Quatre, you ask? He's been progressing too. In fact, he brings Trowa to work with him after they leave the lab. It's no problem since Trowa usually sits quietly on the couches to the far corner of Quatre's office while working on some of his experimental analysis. After all, didn't Trowa promise to take care of him?

This reminds me of an incident that happened a few days back. It was Friday afternoon when an elderly executive came into the office, demanding a resignation from Quatre. All the while, Trowa was seated, unnoticed on his usual position. Quatre was in a bind and refused to defend himself against the old man. In fact, he let himself be scolded for half an hour. By that time Trowa had just had about enough of it. He stood up and called the man's attention by clearing his throat. His haughty attitude does come in handy every once in a while.

"Excuse me," he said. "but if a competent man such as yourself thinks that he has the right to talk down on and infantilize his boss the way you're doing then I suggest you get yourself some manners because the man you're accusing of incompetence is not only half your age and better than you but he's also twice your intelligence. In fact, your incompetence is written all over your face. I don't care what you're trying to cover up for. Cover up your incompetence elsewhere before you make a fool of yourself more than you already have."

What more can I say? True, Quatre does have to learn to show people who's the boss around there. He's too nice sometimes that they push him around. Until the day he realizes that he's worth more than the numbers in the newspapers say so, Trowa will be backing him up and keeping his spirits high; that, and keeping his neckline with a couple of red marks, if you know what I mean.

It's funny, you know, the way things work out in the end. Most people envision a never-ending romance filled with pleasant moments and absolute perfection. When you look at it closely, however, you notice the flaws, the little quirks that turn the romance into a less appealing movie sequence. Does that make it deficient? Absolutely not. It's what makes a relationship real. It's what made Quatre authentic in Trowa's own world of perfection.

The last and probably most important question to ask is where am I in all this? Just why do I sound like the outsider in Trowa's story when I claim to be his most important tie? Maybe it's because I've been lying to you all this time or maybe it's because you thought I didn't really exist.

As I draw to a close, listen to me a little more closely. I will always remember the days of Trowa's childhood, the days he spent the most with me. With time, I am fading into the background, like the memories that become deeply embedded in the nether regions of the brain. Doctors no longer call me his imagination but instead call me his genius. I am no longer his lone friend but his judgment and his wisdom. His growth has been my success and his happiness is mine. I am the one who makes his destinies worthwhile, the one who knows him well enough to understand. I will forever be the one who makes memories with him. After all, I am and will always be the intricate workings of Trowa Barton's brilliant mind.


Note: The mystery of the narrator was never meant to distract or annoy anyone. I won't apologize for writing the way I did because it was meant to be written the way it was. I do hope that this ending answers a lot of questions. Kudos to the people who caught on to it early on!