Prologue
By Cleolette
Pairs: 1xR, more may appear as it goes
Rating: PG-13 for now
Disclaimer: I am making no profit from this work of fiction. Any resemblance any character in this story to animated characters under copyright is done intentionally, but not maliciously.
Warnings: I'm rusty, please be critical and tell me if you really want me to continue this story. If this part sucks, tell me so that I can abandon it
Note on POV: I'm planning to switch to 3rd person, past tense after this prologue, but I felt that a first person, present tense would be a good way to introduce the story and detail the history behind why things are the way they are.
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He left two years ago today. It made sense for him to leave, at the time. It was mutual, I guess, but I really did not ever want him to leave. We were at each other's throats, always fighting over the same old things, or, even worse, not talking to each other for weeks at a time.
I know his reasons, the reasons that neither of us should have ever even had to worry with, were the world a fair place to live in. That day, the passion of our relationship was dead, and the love was forgotten. I know his reasons. He had failed his mission. He felt confined, useless, lazy, bored. It was how I felt too. He would sulk around after work, and often get in the way of my own passive suffering. We were two stubborn souls, desperately needing and at the same time refusing the comfort that our mutual love could have brought.
We began arguing more and more. Our fights escalated from talking to shouting. One day his fist stopped inches from my face. The flash of pure, violent hatred that filled his eyes in that moment terrified me, but even worse was the stricken look that followed it. Fear filled his eyes. "We can't go on like this." he said. Damn him for being so right. He left that night.
The fights, fueled by layers of bitterness, futility, and grief, found their cause on the fate of one person. The doctors, with all the cures that modern medicine had to offer, were unable to save Angelina Yuy. We had spent over a year of our lives trying to keep her alive after the doctors told us of a rare birth defect that our daughter had chanced to be born with. To this day I cannot remember what they called it, but all it meant was my baby would die before she saw her fifth birthday. I tended to the baby with a zeal I had not had since my lofty dreams of peace on earth years before.
He plunged himself into the medical community, searching for a cure that didn't exist, searching for a hope where there was none to be found.
The doctors told us that she would not live to see adulthood. They said her heart was extremely damaged, and hopes for a transplant almost nonexistent. We were on a waiting list, but our angel didn't last. She lived a year and six months. When she died, so did our marriage. For her lifetime, Heero and I had become so accustomed to living in our own worlds that we found it difficult to even realize we were still somehow together. I rejected him, and in return he rejected me. I could no longer rush to get Angelina during a tense conversation. News of new treatments would no longer be his excuse to cop out of family activities. We had stopped sharing a bed the night she died, but we had stopped caring that we did share one long before.
Now, I'm waiting in my favorite coffee shop. When he left, Heero and I agreed to meet once a year at this coffee house to catch up, or, as I have hoped for quite a while now, to reconcile. I look at my watch; I am early. He is never late. Rather, he wasn't last time. I watch the door impatiently. I wonder how he is. Last year he had quit his job and moved to another colony. Last year he was still cold and impassive. Last year, I still hated him. However, time is the great healer, and I'm hoping we're both healed.
He strolls in 2 minutes early and does not even so much as I glance around. His eyes are fixed on the countertop. Mechanically, he orders a beverage and, upon receiving it, finally looks around. He sees me and, for an instant, looks worried. He is worried about something he will tell me. I smile gently at him, trying to show that I am not the emotional nutcase he left, nor the cold, bitter woman who would not talk to him last year. He walks over and sits across from me.
"Hi." I say, quietly and, to my surprise, nervously. I inwardly sigh. I've let my guard down; he's under my skin like always. And making me nervous. I am Relena. I do not get nervous.
Heero nods in response. He is not going to make this easy on me.
But the glimpse of worry I saw earlier tells me this isn't easy for him either. I decide on a neutral subject. Clearing my throat, I say, "I got a new cat."
He frowns, "Adolf isn't enough?" I can hear some teasing in his voice.
I grin. Adolf is what he has always called our hyperactive cat. "Nope, Adolf was lonely. Pining after you, methinks. Poor little cat."
He smiles. Actually, it's not really a smile, but it's a Heero smile. "What's the new little rat like."
"Oh, sleeps in the dresser drawers, eats at the table with the family, the usual."
"Are you still living at the same place?" he asks.
"Nah, I moved somewhere smaller and cheaper."
He looks at me and lowers his voice, "You didn't lose your job, did you?"
I sense that same old protectiveness in his voice. Warmth spreads through me at this slight bit of affection. Then again, he always cared about my well being, even before he loved me. If he ever did. I frown and have to fight the tears that threaten this reunion that has been relatively happy thus far. I swallow, and speak much more quietly than I plan, "No...it's just...too big, you know."
Heero knows. We lived in a palatial apartment with three huge bedrooms...a master, a guest, and one done up in pink for her... "Yeah, I always thought it was way too big." he mutters.
I quickly change the subject. This will be a civil meeting with no crying or overly emotional outburst, even if it kills me. "So what are you doing these days, Heero?"
His expression is unreadable. I sense that this is the part he dreaded. "I'm a pilot."
"Pilot? For whom? Delta? Galactix Transports?" I know he's not a commercial pilot. Heero would never be a glorified bus driver.
"The MRA." He says with a voice so dead, so remote from feeling, that it makes me shudder.
The MRA, the Mankind Renewal Army. The enemy to peace...I never thought...I never considered..."The MRA?" I squeak.
He looks away and doesn't say a thing. He isn't about to get away with this. My first thought is that he's toying with me, trying to make me hate him to conform to his ideas that I should consider him the scum of the earth and stop caring about him. "Why haven't I seen you on TV?" I say, remembering that all the MRA's 'aces' are well publicized, and I cannot see why Heero, if he for any reason belonged to such a thing, would not be the best they had.
"Different name." He mutters, looking into his coffee.
I run through the names I've heard on the news: Jones, DeLaCerda, Tanaka... "Tanaka Takeshi." I say, not sure what to make of it.
He nods without looking at me.
"But Heero, why would you do something like that?"
"Takeshi is my real name." He says in a pathetic attempt to change the subject.
I know I'm not going to get anywhere with why he is destroying his life again in another war, so I concentrate on his diversion. "I thought you didn't know your real name."
"I remember my first name. Tanaka is just a pretty common Japanese name, so I took it as my given name." Heero shrugs
"Ah, I see."
An uncomfortable silence settles over our conversation. Why did he have to go do something so completely bizarre and unreadable? I think that ending this now would be the best route, salvaging the tiny bits of civilized conversation that we did manage.
"Um, I have to meet with someone in about 20 minutes on the other side of town," I say, glancing meaningfully at my watch. I stand.
Heero stands and grabs his coffee. "Yeah, I should get going too." he mumbles.
I start to inch away when I hear him behind me, "Let's see each other sometime Relena, before next year." he whispers.
I turn to see him extremely close to me. He offers a hug to me, and I accept it. After a brief hug, I carefully write out my number and address on a piece of paper and hand it to him. "To keep in touch." I say
He nods and hands me what appears to be a business card with the same information, "To keep in touch."
I smile slightly, "Bye, Heero."
"Bye." He turns and walks towards the door. I frown when he is out of sight. Always leaving first, aren't you.
As I turn to the counter to get another cup of coffee, I notice something on the seat where Heero was. Picking it up, I see that it is a picture of a young boy, no older than 3, sitting with a lovely girl who appears to be around 26. The boy bears a remarkable resemblance to Heero, right down to the dark sapphire eyes that the woman also has. I bet he was the one who dropped it here. It's probably him. He never showed it to me, though. Weird.
I glance outside to see if I might take it to him now. He isn't anywhere in sight anymore, however, and I pocket the picture. I'll get it to him later.
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TBC
I would love and appreciate all praise and criticism.
-Cleo
