Shock and Pain. Those are emotions I never thought possible of piercing the shield of calm that he has raised against the world. His mask of ice has been shattered, and everyone could see and feel his anguish. It seems to wash over him like waves over a beach during a storm, fierce and powerful. He seems to have aged years in moments, with an aura of ancient weariness and pain enveloping him. Also, those dead eyes of his burn with an unidentifiable emotion, haunted by a spectre that has re-emerged from the depths of his past. His face is that of one who has just seen his death, pale and cold, and he trembled...
Heero trembling? With fear? With anger? With emotion!? How could this be? For these things are so unlike Heero.
The silence in the room was palpable, reflecting everyone's surprise and concern for our Dark Knight.
Whatever the case however I just could not let my angel suffer any longer without trying to help, just as he could not kill me, and just as he had gone to extreme lengths to save a wilful girl. I found myself in turmoil. Once more, I felt the intoxicating yet bittersweet emotion that I always felt towards him, as I start to near him and look into those smouldering eyes.
The meeting had started ordinarily enough, with the usual chaos that typified the start of every meeting between the Peacekeepers and myself. However, the timing of the meeting was unusual. A week before our normal monthly meeting, someone had called it, citing only the reason that it was a matter of life and death. Duo was teasing Wufei about a supposed "crush" on Sally, while Trowa and Quatre trying to restrain an enraged and furiously blushing Wufei from strangling the miscreant. Then I entered with lady in question who promptly whacked Duo on the head, smiling wryly all the while.
Heero followed close behind, his mask in place and his hand on his Colt.45, looking around calmly for any sign of danger. Heero…… dark knight, true knight who fought on even when hope was dead, overcoming all odds with his brothers to end the war. I watched him as he moved on silent feet, gliding to his seat, and never for a moment letting down his guard. Deadly, cold yet beautiful, he was acclaimed to be the perfect soldier, without emotions and conscience and yet…
Doctor J had said that once Heero had eyes that were innocent and full of hope, those of a starry eyed young boy who was still idealistic, like mine. Now, though, they are dead and apathetic, without hope and without despair. However, I know that beneath that mask of ice, lies a sleeping boy who has become a bringer of death to save his people and to redeem the world. I know that his heart still beats, and that he is afraid and so very alone, in his self-imposed isolation. He tried to kill his ability to feel, and distance himself from others so that no one would suffer for his sake and so that he could work without emotions, which he sees as a hindrance to his mission.
However, he has not succeeded completely. He still has emotions. He still has a conscience. Even after all the psychological training and conditioning that the scientists had given him, I can still feel in him a great capacity for compassion and love. So it is that I found myself starting to worry for him and to care for him. I have been able to sort out my feelings for him, and have never been sure if what I feel for him is a long abiding love, or a momentary obsession. Then, noticing his eyes meet mine, I reflexively look away quickly, feeling my cheeks warm slightly.
He must think me a lovesick girl, I thought to myself. And he just might be right, for I cannot seem to think rationally with him around. I just wish that I……
Thrap! A knock on the door.
There is immediate silence as the sound of the knock dies off. I look up in surprise, as I had thought that everyone was present. I glance at Heero almost instinctively, and am surprised to see him with an expression of boredom on his face. I had half- expected him to draw his gun and point it at the door, as he is usually the most suspicious of all of us. He notices the surprise on my face and …winks?
I blink, unsure if I have seen that wink. Then, I shake my head, deciding that I have been working too hard and needed a rest. I can feel my lips twist at the thought of my job, similar to that of a nursemaid trying to keep peace amongst squabbling children. Every time I solve a problem, another faction almost does something which requires my immediate intervention. I have no illusions of being indispensable to the peace effort, especially with the Preventors around but I know that I play a part that is as important. Absorbed in my thoughts, I only absently note the sound of the door opening and closing. Then a familiar voice pierces my mind, saying, " So what is so important that you sent out a top priority call that I return at once Heero?"
I looked up, hoping yet not daring to believe and see my brother, Millard. That was the end of rational thought.
"Brother!" Relena cried, half choking with emotion as she catapulted herself towards her surprised sibling. Millard Peacecraft, also known as Zeches Marquise, the Lightning Count barely had time to respond to his sister's rush. Soon, she was nestled in his embrace, laughing and crying with joy and trying to speak and the same time.
Millard held her gently and close to him, murmuring how proud he was of her strength and tenacity. He had a tender smile on his face, the reserve and calm that characterised him replaced by love and joy. He had not changed much since I lost saw him a year ago, when Dekim Barton tried to carry out his mad designs on earth. Tall, with a stern yet gentle countenance, he still bore his burden of guilt and sorrow. Guilt for what he perceived as his failure to honour his father's memory and sorrow for the death and destruction of his family and homeland. He sees himself as a fallen knight who has stained his hands with blood and thus went against his family's ideals has lost the right to rebuild his home, Sanc Kingdom, the country of peace. However, two people have kept him from succumbing to despair, his beloved Noin and his sister, Relena…
Like iron being drawn to a lodestone, my eyes and thoughts turn reluctantly towards the one he holds, Relena Peacecraft, our world's minister of peace. Her eyes are sparkling with unshed tears of joy, as she looks long and hard at her brother. They shimmer, though not with the reflection of the lights in the room, but with her souls light, a brilliant and vibrant flame. Her long flowing locks fall around her like a veil, sparkling like gold in the light of the room. It is the shade and hue of summer, like that of a sylvan princess, similar to her passion for life. Her face is like that of a young girl's again, no longer worn with care. She is smiling too, a beautiful, delicate thing that is so tender and loving, something that I have not seen for a very long time. I close my eyes for a moment, filled with conflicting emotions that I do not understand.
Relena… Why do I feel my pulse race at the sound of your name? Why do I feel a need to guard you whenever I lay eyes on you? Why do I feel secure in your presence? Why does rational thought flee at the sound of your voice? And why, why do I feel a strange stirring when I see you smile? I do not know and… I am afraid. I, who have been called the perfect soldier, a person who has no emotions and who embraces death without hesitation, feel fear at a young and vulnerable pacifist. The irony… and yet I know that I will never let you come to any harm even at the cost of my life. Dr J and the other scientist have failed in their attempt to condition me into the prefect soldier.
I once felt something for another girl, an emotion perhaps akin to what I feel for Relena, yet so profoundly different that they might as well not be related at all. She gave me a flower and a few kind words, and I repaid her with death and destruction. The memory of how I caused the deaths of many innocents through my failures will always haunt me. Innocents like the girl and her dog whose name I do not even know. I cannot put a name to these emotions, for they are not supposed to exist for me. They should have been blocked off with my memories of my past, for the only things that I need remember are of the time spent training with Odin Lowe and Dr J, and the pain caused by war.
I will always remember the many youths that I had to slaughter on the battlefield. They all had no chance against me, against us, and yet they came, screaming defiance to their last breath, in wave after wave, till the heap of dead piled up in a mountain and blood flowed like a river. Either because they enjoyed the battle and the carnage or because they were taken in by the lies spread by their 'leaders'. Lies, such as "All the suffering you have ever known is because of our enemy!" or "The enemy are monsters! They spare no one, not even children or…" or "Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Morti" (It is glorious and seeming to die for your country). Utter nonsense used to cover up the stench of death stemming from their 'leaders' folly… and glory in dying for one's country? An idealistic attempt to glorify a senseless and wasteful 'pastime' of fools that brings out the worst of our race. It is a 'pastime' that sets parent against child, sibling against sibling.
As I watch the brother and sister embrace from my corner, I suddenly am aware of a sudden stirring in my heart. My eyes mist slightly and I feel a stabbing pain in my chest. A…vision…? I realise that I am no longer seeing through my physical eyes……
I can feel a comforting cloak of warmth and wellbeing surrounding me. I can smell something that I have not smelt in ages, that of freshly baked bread and the aroma of muffins. I can also hear a gentle, familiar voice filling my ears, it is youthful and bright, like that of the lark, songbird of the morning. A more mature voice is intertwined with it in song, haunting and sorrowful, yet beautiful, like that of the nightingale's, songbird of dusk. The voices are together singing, harmonising in a stately and age-old lullaby. Around me is a pair of arms, clasping me lovingly and tenderly. I know that these arms belong to a person that I can trust. I feel safe and for the first time in aeons at peace with the world.
My eyes are closed… no. These eyes do not belong to me. They do not respond to me, and refuse to open, and strangely I feel detached and aloof although my senses tell me that this is real. It is as though I am in another person's body, feeling another person's emotions, living another person's life. Everything has a surreal atmosphere, and yet… I know somehow that I ought to know the owners of these voices; and this place, is it home? However frustratingly, the knowledge keeps eluding me, hovering just there at the edge of my stolen memories. I feel myself shuddering at a chill that creeps over me, an icy and thorny reminder that this moment of joy and contentment will be torn away cruelly.
The song stops abruptly, the aura of peace and warmth vanishes totally, to be replaced by a void, cold and howling. I can hear the whispers of a conversation between a man and the two singers. I can only make out snatches of the whispers. I can hear the words, " Danger "and "We must flee". I will my eyes to open but they do not respond. A wave of fear washes over me for the singers, and the man. For a voice in the deepest and darkest recesses of my mind whispers that once I cared for them and they are dead. The whispers stop, and in the silence, I hear the clamp of booted feet and a curse being forcefully expelled from the man's mouth. Then a crashing sound and a piercing scream. I struggle trying to open my eyes…
"Hey Heero!" Duo called in that forever cheerful tone of his, and breaking the spell. "Don't be so anti-social, even Wufei and Trowa are joining in the conversation. Come on!"
In reply, I shot him a glare to cover my current state. Never display your emotions. They make you vulnerable. Even to friends.
"Hey! Cool it! It was just a suggestion." Duo returned immediately, laughing with both of his hands raised up in a mock defensive posture. "Jeez. One would have though that you would have got less serious by now."
I have. I thought silently. And I am not sure if it is all that good……
It is fortunate that I chose to sit in the darkest corner I thought to myself as I reasserted my self-control and wipe my face of the pain that must be there and school my expression into its customary impassiveness. I look around swiftly, hoping that no one had notice my momentarily lapse. No one seemed to have; they were all talking to Zeches and Noin.
I quickly refocused my thoughts, although I knew that my heart was beating very quickly. This was not good, these strange bouts have been happening with increasing frequency. It was as though something in me was trying to surface. The only doctor I had seen as a concession to the possibility that I was overworked certified that I was perfectly sound in both mind and body, albeit a trifle stressed. He was of no help to me for this.
It could be a residue of my old memories that have been erased I thought. Then with a slight grimace, I shake my head. No time for that will have to think about it another time.
I looked at the clock. Two o'clock. There was still some time left before I had to start the meeting I had called, concerning yet another attempt by a weapons dealer to ignite the flames of war. I suddenly felt old and weary, when will the last of those greedy idiots be rooted out so that I can finally complete the task assigned to me and rest? My thoughts turn at this point to the past. AC195
"Remember, your mission is to end the war and bring peace to all. The colonies and Earth has suffered under the heavy hand of war for too long. Free them and make sure that nothing that can disrupt the peace remains. Do what is necessary, even if it takes all your life. Even if the final price is you." Dr J said as he looked at me with those cold eyes.
I nodded, looking back at him steadily, resolute and ready.
Dr J broke the gaze and sighed heavily, head bowed in deep thought. When he finally looked up, his eyes were clear, although they were red. His expression was carefully schooled and neutral, but he seemed to look ancient and tired, the lines on his face more stark and his hunched back more pronounced.
He looked at me once more, and said in a steady but gentle voice, "Heero, Heero, this burden I give to you is a heavy one, enough for ten man. It is also terribly unfair and might prove to be impossible. I know that you will do your best, for you have never given Adin or me any less. I have always been a harsh master, constantly tasking you with impossible trials and never giving you a kind word. However, I want you to know this, you make me proud. Now go."
The last was said in a softer voice, and I nodded, turning away and walking towards my Gundam. However, as I walked away, I heard Dr J say in a soft voice, "Forgive me Heero. Forgive me Ylsa."
I sighed to myself softly. I never had understood what Dr J had meant when he asked Ylsa to forgive him. Perhaps…perhaps. As I think of the possibilities, I look around the room, absently checking for any sign of danger. Then I see the clock. Quarter past two. It is time, no. It was time.
As I turn to look up and get ready to start the meeting, I absently remember a favourite saying of Odin, "Alea Jacta Est. The die is cast."
I put all my emotions behind me and spoke, "The meeting shall come to order…" After the initial rush of emotion when I greeted my brother, I stepped back, still smiling as I let the others who were almost bursting with questions have their chance. I know that I must look like a giddy young girl who had just received her first rose, but I did not care, my brother has come home. I stood back and watched as all the pilots, Sally and Lady Anne quiz Zeches and Noin on the terraforming project that was taking place on Mars. It was one of the Preventer's main projects, with the main goal of finding sufficient resources and living space for the ever-growing human population. This would help maintain social stability and reduce the risk of another war.
Then I blinked. Heero was not amongst the participants. He must be in a dark corner as usual.
I turn to look at the seat that I last saw him on, there. I knew it. My eyes fall on him. Then, I frowned slightly, noticing that for a heartbeat he had the look of one who is lost in a maze of his own devise. Then a moment later, it was replaced once more by his mask of apathy. Heero, stop trying to run and hide from the world, from me. Don't underestimate me, I see more than you will ever want me to… because I care.
He looked so lost, and so in pain that it was like looking upon a child whose innocence had just been cruelly stripped away. I wanted to hold him, to comfort him, in the capacity of a confidante, a friend if not that of a love but I suppressed it, knowing that he would just reject me. Again.
Heero, please, I care… is it too much to let me care for you?
As I stood there quietly watching him, I noticed a subtle shift in his expression. It became slightly sorrowful, and his eyes that always looked so cold glittered as though they held tears. I held my breath, and the moment passed. His expression hardens once more, and the glimmer in his eyes dies out, as thought it never was. How long can you last Heero? How long can you hold all of your grief in your heart?
His eyes stray to the clock and a hint of a frown appears before it was smoothed away. Then he stood up, tall, noble and … and so alone.
"The meeting shall come to order," silence fell like a curtain across the room as everyone returned to their seats and looked at him. He continued, "I have called for this emergency meeting to call attention to the activities of the extremist faction Dischord. Although they are a relatively low-key organisation, they comprise of very intelligent and potentially dangerous people. I have been following their activities for three months after receiving a tip-off from an informant in the colonies. It appears that they have been receiving funding and payment from arms dealers to ignite the flames of war once more, so that they (the arms dealers) can begin raking in profits again.''
A sharp intake of breath is heard, with irritated muttering in the background and a sharp curse from Duo. I can feel an ancient weariness creep over me, coupled with pain and anger burning slowly, bitter and without heat. I wanted to scream and rave at those people who refused to or simply were blind to those who pay for the price of their greed and fortune. Greedy vultures, who gloated over the wealth that the increased patronage during the war brought and who now are screaming at how peace has dried their market. Have we not paid enough already? How many more must die before they are satisfied? How high is the price of peace?
I could see the young boys going off to war once more and their sisters, mothers, fathers and lovers crying for them.