Disclaimer: Gundam 00's not mine, not making a profit on it either.

A/N: I was really frustrated and angry last night, so I decided to be productive and channel it into words. One thing led to another, and well, here you have it. The change in tense is intentional, as are grammatical errors (hopefully). Hope you don't think I'm nuts after this...

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Monster

by Chairo Mori

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Hate.

He was brimming in it. It was the very blood that ran through his body. It was him.

His fist trembled from uncontrolled rage.

The mirror in front of him glowered, a face distorted and twisted into an ugly montage of clenched teeth, slitted eyes, nose skewed with anger, nostrils flaring, like a raging bull.

He hated what he saw. Hated it.

The neat, violet hair, falling perfectly straight. Perfect fair skin. A perfect body for an Innovator.

How he hated them all. Ribbons, Regene, all of them.

He wasn't an Innovator. Say what they would, he wasn't. God damn them, he was a human being.

His nails drew tight against his palm, and he reveled in the pricks of brief pain as he maliciously toyed with the idea of using the action to cut open his skin.

His lips curved upward into a cruel snarl of a grin. Ah! Yes. Innovator indeed. Would such a superior being as an Innovator ever even think of committing such a human action as self-inflicted harm? Would an Innovator ever lose control?

He flicked his gaze towards the shaking fist, oh how he reveled in the idea of taking it and smashing the damn mirror into smithereens. Let's see it mock him then!

Oh how good it would feel, having the fragments of glass shatter and bury into his knuckles, to see the crimson sputter from it, relieve the tightness of his angry muscles with pain. Glorifying pain!

Yes!

And to pull and rack off that neat head of hair, lock after lock, until nothing but a horrible mess unsuited for a demon remained.

Then his glass-adorned hand would make its way to that disgusting face – it reminded him so much of Regene – and scratch and tear at it until he was unrecognizable.

He panted in delirious ecstasy as he glared at the shattered remains of the mirror, a kaleidoscope of a monster glaring back in return, crimson flowing down its face in streams, wild chunks of violet hair hanging from its ugly head.

He loved it! He loved it!

This, this creature! How could it dare to even call itself human, let alone above human? No. No! This monster panting and snarling at him wasn't fit to be called human!

Its face twisted to reflect his glee. A hoarse laughter managed to rasp its way out of his throat.

"Tieria?"

The illusion shatters.

"Hey, what's so funny in there?"

The mirror stares back, unscathed. He schools his lips back into their neutral line. "Nothing, Allelujah."

His face is still there.

"Right... Well, Sumeragi wants us all at the bridge for briefing."

"I'll be right there," he feels himself reply and hears Allelujah shuffle away from the door.

His gaze returns to the mirror and notes the tears that are trickling down.

His fists are still clenched, his body still trembles. But this time, as he leans his head forward and rests it against the mirror, it is not in anger.

Lockon.

He grimaces and stifles the sob that yearns to escape from his silent suffering.

Lockon.

No matter how much he hates it. Despises what he is, there is no denying it.

He closes his eyes.

He is an Innovator.

Lockon!

Compassion. Vengeance. Anger. Grief. Deep down he knows he is deluding himself. In the end, he is an Innovator. He is not human.

Eyes still closed, he calmly composes himself. When he opens them and leaves his room, it is as if nothing happened.

The mirror continues to reflect the emptiness.

Lockon.

Lockon.

Lockon.

You really were blind. Because you believed there was humanity in me.

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