Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A Thousand Paper Cranes ❯ Departure Bay ( Chapter 2 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]
Title: A Thousand Paper Cranes
Chp. 2 Departure Bay
The Poetry is my original works please do not steal them.
Gundam Wing and its characters do not belong to me in any way.
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It took some time but eventually Dorothy found herself neatly settled in a coastal city she had always enjoyed taking trips to with her family. Her memories of family outings were not all pleasant ones as most vacations were all properly arranged so that her family and its good name would be seen in all the right places, at all the right times. However, the visits to the quaint (it could be described as nothing else, brimming with little shops, a boardwalk complete with historically reconstructed rides, and excellent little out of the way restaurants with fantastic views) seaside town were one of the very few times when money, fame, and political maneuvering had nothing to do with the vacation.

The house she bought was small, only one bedroom, one bathroom, a tiny living room, and a perfect kitchen for only single person. It was an old house that needed some repairs, the roof was prone to a few leaks in the winter (so the previous owner confessed to her) and the plumbing was not the worlds best. She considered what she was going to do and opted to leave the house with as many faults as could be allowed, so the plumbing was given the small repairs it required and the roof was patched (not fully repaired it would leak if the rain came down to hard). If any of her relatives on the Catalonia side of the family had been alive to see the house they would have denied anyone of their name was living there. But that was what she was going for, because her life was always filled with big things. Bigger houses than her family ever had use for, Olympic sized pools, vast gardens that stretched for acres and never fully explored, not to mention huge vehicles rarely driven, and an excess of technological toys that hardly anyone could operate. Thinking about it Dorothy was sure the only person who might approve of her new living space was her very distant cousin, but then even he had all the big things (but he did live quiet simply, as a soldier should).

She learned that her house had a history in the war, and that was what really sold her. Looking about the outside of the house and even inside she could see the scars left on the wood from bullets and the place where some rebel had marked out the days on a windowsill. It was perfect for her, and she found herself immediately comfortable in the miniscule space.

Her days were spent in a routine of reading, and walking the mile into the town to eat at what was fast becoming a favorite restaurant. She would peruse the shops for anything that might strike her fancy, and she chatted with the locals about the past (there were some that remembered her as a little girl, and some that recalled seeing her in the background of a few news casts about Relena Darlain). The boardwalk too was a favorite place for her to people watch (her favorite spot was the bench near the haunted castle ride) and observe the intricacy of human nature.

The entire town was a lesson in quiet and patience which the goddess discovered she was mature enough to finally handle. Although she did notice that her time spent in learning distracted her from what she had originally intended to do, which was contemplate the "chance" that had presented itself to her just before Relena's party. That other woman she had mentioned to Quatre had slipped from her mind almost completely, but she soon found that life had an interesting way of presenting things.

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Fire wings catch on everything
How much faster can you go
Burning every bridge you run across
Icy eyes are not enough
To cool your flight
And violet only warms the throbbing heat
Fire wings burn in lovely colors
Through a lady of elegance
Killing knights and breaking the moon
But in wheat and honey fields
Your wings will lose their luster
They will smolder in the soil
Under the light and soft
Of a blue sky
*****************************************************

After about three months of completely ignoring her correspondence she picked up a letter from Quatre. The contents were interesting but nothing spectacular. It was the photo that went along with the letter that Dorothy found most intriguing as it showed Quatre standing next to Trowa and some young woman she did not recognize in front of a circus tent. On the back of the photo was the caption, "Something Like Bliss" next to a heart drawn in black pen. She was happy for him, it was nice to know he was doing well and so she figured it might be good of her to return the favor.

She trotted down to the boardwalk and picked up a postcard (it was completely cliché having the city name in scripted lettering above an overhead shot of the entire boardwalk) from one of the gift shops. She scribbled, "Wish you were here!" on the back, addressed it and sent it off in the mail.

The knock on the door a few weeks after the postcard had been sent off was expected. The dark blue and brooding eyes of Heero Yuy that met her as she opened the door were not.

Heero walked into the small house regarding the place without any real outward expression on his face, but the platinum blonde goddess could almost sense his approval (not that she particularly cared for it). In his left hand was the postcard she had sent and while she had thus far restrained herself from making any glib little remarks at his sudden appearance she could not contain the observation.

"Did Quatre even see that," she began as she motioned for the ex-pilot to take a seat, "or did you swipe it from his mail box?"

Heero chuckled softly, a thing she was not in any way accustomed to seeing or hearing. In fact she could not even remember seeing the young man so much as crack a smile in her presence. She quirked an eyebrow and sat opposite him on cushy bright orange chair (it was completely out of place among the rest of the furniture pieces which were darker in color and ever so slightly antique in design) to await his answer.

"I took it from his desk," he said coolly, and then not missing a beat he asked, "Have you read the papers lately?"

She sighed, "Only the real paper…the one with actual news on it. Why?"

"Just wondered, there's an interesting article in one of them about the Sanq Kingdom."

Dorothy smirked, "Well thankfully I no longer really care about that kingdom. Why are you here Heero? I would ask if she sent you but I highly doubt that to be the case."

"Of course…I didn't think you would presume anything…"

She sighed and then asked, "Can I interest you in something to drink? Tea, coffee, water… A double Scotch perhaps?"

"I won't be here much longer."

"So sorry to hear that," her sarcasm was unhidden.

He set the postcard down on the coffee table in front of him, and looked off towards the window. There was a great view from the rather small bay window as just outside was an unattended garden of wildflowers and clover, passed that were a few tall trees (some redwood, some cypress, and what looked to be cedar), and then a cliff edge which promised of a cold ocean crashing below. It seemed he did not want to speak, but had to out of necessity, as if what he was going to say was a revelation, and yet perhaps just a revelation to him alone. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"I'm getting married next week."

The comment threatened to stab at Dorothy's heart.

"The day of the party I told Relena I was engaged and she burst into tears, but she wasn't crying because I was no longer available for her to dream about."

"Did she say that?"

"She didn't have to…but I found it odd that I should know that. That I realized she didn't need me to watch her and make sure she wasn't harmed. But what was even odder to me that night was when you left and she wouldn't cry-"

"Heero," her voice was like the cold crash of the ocean upon rocky shores, "is there a point?"

He seemed almost saddened by the remark, "She really loved you."

"I know that."

"And you really loved her."

"That needs no remarking. Is she in trouble Heero? Are you here to tell me I should fly back to her side to save her from whatever mess she's fallen to? I've done that before… and the game between her and I only grew."

He looked at the postcard and sighed, "I'm here because I wanted to ask you when you realized she didn't want you to save her either?"

She smiled, "I knew that from the beginning, but she did not realize it until much later. Why does it matter?"

"I guess it doesn't… I was just… curious."

He got up and walked to the door. He took no offense that Dorothy did not rise to see him out.

As he opened the door he mentioned offhandedly almost cryptically, "Sometimes in the moonlight things look more beautiful than they actually are, but other times only that light can show a thing's true nature."

Then he left and as the door shut Dorothy was left with the awkward work of trying to discover the meaning in what Heero had said.

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I'm not so bitter
I can see a way through
I see you
And in this vision
I want to tell you a truth
To whisper something sacred
Something secret
That only you could appreciate
But our ties are all gone
And we have left behind the silliness of love songs
So I journey on through this life
To find what I've been missing
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After a few days of intentionally ignoring her mind's driving need to unearth the mystery of Heero Yuy and his departing words (she would drift there if she wasn't careful and her dreams of course would not let her be, but still she managed to really avoid thinking of it) Dorothy Catalonia finally stepped outside her nature to peer into the matter. She sat outside in her mess of a garden on a weary stone bench, she was in full summer mode at the time wearing a light white dress and a big white sun hat (it was a tribute in an offhanded way to the women in her family who always seemed to dress that way for the beach and summer), and came to a very easy supposition. The conclusion was that the brooding ex-pilot had seen her talking to someone in the palace gardens and had jumped to (how could he not the perceptive boy) an inevitable assumption.

It was perhaps the right assumption for him to make, but surely finding her living alone would have done a job of clearing away any clichéd stupidity that she had left Relena for another woman. The point of the fact was that Dorothy had left for herself, and she would have left whether she had accidentally met someone in the garden on that long night or not. Her trouble with the princess was never that the girl did not love her, but simply that the words could never seem to be uttered. That the image of the princess was too fragile to carry the additional weight of a love interest, even if half the tabloids (on earth and the colonies) wrote stories about and printed pictures of the diplomat and whomever her lover at the time happened to be.

And there was another reason... one which Dorothy could only stand to a point and then take no longer. But it was a reason she did not like to linger on because it hurt to do so, and the blonde goddess was not one who liked to dwell on what made her weak especially when that weakness was someone like Relena Darlain.

For a moment she felt overwhelmed by everything she was thinking of. There were (as there was for anything in life no matter the situation) multiple things that made her leave, and while she focused her attention on two in particular there was indeed a third. And it appeared on that night in the garden. Too much contemplation was something she did not want spend time on in the hot sun, so she went into her house changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and a nice light blouse and walked down to the town for a long and late lunch.

On her way down she bordered on deep thought but truly needing the rest she took to whistling random songs to keep her mind off topic. When she finally reached the town it was near three o'clock and she stepped into the cool of her favorite restaurant taking her normal place on the patio with the full view of the boardwalk and beach (even so late it teamed with tourists on summer holiday).

She ordered a light dinner (it was indeed too late for lunch) and a good wine to accompany it, slipping into the thoughts she had briefly broken from with her first sips of what was an excellent vintage. Remembering that she had gone to the gardens to avoid Relena and that she had left the gardens to avoid falling into something too soon. All it took to make her heart start to shudder was a wonderful phrase, "We are much better rivals than she and you ever were, do you think, aside from trying to make me furious, that is why you made that offer to me so many years ago? Do you think after tonight you could consider this as more than just an offer to infuriate you?"

The questions had been put to her so simply after an evening of conversation that Dorothy had to admit was one of her better moments at digging into someone. It was such a match and she came away feeling like she wanted nothing more than to have that match over and over again until she could claim a clear victory or even (she had to admit) a clear loss.

Yes, she would have even been happy to lose to that woman but she ran away instead. Not literally of course that would have been beneath her; rather she countered the question as to make a clear way to leave for her room.

The feeling she had going over the memory made her course of action clear. She only hoped that it wasn't too much of an assumption that the offer would still stand.

The dinner arrived and it was exquisite. She finished off another glass of wine, and decided to skip dessert so that she might get home before it got too dark and the fog began to roll in. On her way home she stopped at a small stationary store and picked up an unusual post card.

Stepping into her house she went to her phone, made a brief search in her phone book and made a call.

"Mari," her voice thrilled into the receiver, "I need a favor, would you mind helping me out? And try to keep your guardian from finding out."

After a few minutes of chatting on the phone she pulled out a sheet of paper and jotted down an address appreciating her knack for having great connections, and cutely devious ones at that.

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The dark is laid out
The colors washed in the night
And all that remains is the light
Of stars and the moon
That reflection of the greater sun
I walk along in thoughts of you
My steps are those of a thousand paper cranes
As they wish in desperation for answers
As they fly in the dark to something new
The dark is laid out
A sky washed in black
I walk alone in thoughts of you
A thousand paper cranes are sent out
With a wish
And the wish is…
Surprisingly not you
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To be continued…