Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Behind Blue Eyes ❯ Chapter 2

BEHIND BLUE EYES

PART TWO

* * *

The following weeks went by in a slow motion blur. Time seemed to have stretched into forever, the clock taking a small tick forward and then two ticks back. The winter grew harsher, snow falling over the city and covering everything with a blanket of pure white. Inside the small diner, vapor was gathering on the large windows, blocking the view of the street. The heating was working hard to overcome the cold, and the place felt hot and almost humid. The radio was playing, some overly happy broadcaster chatting about traffic jams and weather reports before he switched to the next song.

It was lunchtime and the diner was rather full. The sound of chatter filled the small restaurant, along with the clattering of silverware and the fuzzy sound of the radio. Heero's boss, Malcolm, was sitting in the corner of the diner, smoking a cigar and reading his newspaper. Raul, a young student who also worked at the diner, was standing at the cash register, while Heero waitered the tables.

The atmosphere around the solemn young man was gloomier than the winter raging outside the diner. His sad demeanor was evident by his silent, brooding appearance and his slumped shoulders. His uniforms, the blue, white and pink shirt and the black trousers, hung clumsily over his body. The shirt seemed to be hanging sloppily from his shoulders, too large for his skinny figure. His pants were nearly falling as well, his black belt not helping at all even if it was fastened by the last notch. He had lost so much weight since he first applied for the job, over a year ago. His depression was taking its tall on his body. He rarely ate anymore, sometimes going for days with only a cup of tea entering his mouth. The abuse his systems were receiving was beginning to affect his health greatly. His features were pale and sweaty with fever. He resembled a ghost. He was sick, feeling terribly ill, but still he continued to work. Anything but staying home where nightmares lay.

His breath was short and shallow as he walked among the tables, carrying a small notepad and a pen. His lungs ached and heat waves coursed through him every now and then. A woman sitting by the window gestured at him, and he headed towards her. Dizziness attacked him all of a sudden and he swayed from side to side, nearly collapsing on top of someone's meal as he leaned on a table for support. He mumbled an apology and raised his hand off the table. He walked over to the woman. It was a mother and her son.

"Yes?" He asked, blinking away the sweat that gathered around his eyes. He used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat off the area above his upper lip. "Would there be anything else, ma'am?" He asked shakily, another heat wave coursing through him and then slowly receding.

The woman smiled and gazed at her menu for a moment.

"I want cake! I want cake!" The little boy sitting across of her whined loudly, banging his fists on the table. "Mommy! Mommy! I want cake!" He repeated, his quick little hands grabbing the small ketchup bottle and slamming it repeatedly on the table. "Mommmyyyyyyyy……………"

"I heard you the first time, Denis." His mother muttered with a sigh, her eyes scanning the menu.

Heero waited silently, trying his best not to topple over the table and sink into a hazy sleep.

The child continued to play with the ketchup bottle. The woman looked up at the waiter with a smile. "I'll take a cheese cake for me, and, uh," She looked down at the menu again. "Chocolate cake for my son."

Heero nodded silently and wrote it down. His wary blue eyes kept sending short glances at the boy and the ketchup bottle. He looked back at the woman. "Would there be..." he took a moment to breathe, his lungs aching badly, "anything... else?" He finished, out of breath.

The woman smiled. "Coffee refill, please."

Heero nodded again and looked down at his notepad. "So it's cheese cake and chocolate cake, right?" He asked just to make sure. His head was so fuzzy he wouldn't be surprised if he had written something else instead.

The woman nodded. "That's right."

"Yay!" The little boy called out cheerfully, slamming the ketchup bottle brutally on the table and squashing it fiercely with his little fists. The bottle irrupted like a volcano, spraying ketchup everywhere as it exploded with an audible "PLOP!"

The bullet tore through his flesh and in an instant blood was staining his shirt. He staggered backwards, swerving from side to side as he felt his inner organs burn in pain. He choked out a cough, pressing his hand to his wounded stomach. The blood wouldn't stop flowing. He was going to faint. His eyes were wide, his pale features shocked. He looked down at the boy who'd just shot him in utter disbelief and surprise.

"Oh my God!" The mother called out, panicked. "Somebody call a doctor!" She said, jumping out of her seat. People all over the diner were whispering and looking at him.

"He was shot!"

"Oh dear God!"

"They're coming!"

"OZ is coming!"

"There were shots fired!"

"RUN!"

Panting and wheezing, Heero looked around him in shock. Everything was blurry and in slow motion. The sounds were muffled and echoing from afar. He slowly turned to look down at his injured torso, his glazed blue eyes staring numbly at the blood staining his hand.

"I'm so sorry." The woman said softly, smiling apologetically. "He gets overly excited sometimes."

"It's all right." Heero found himself saying, his numb gaze still fixed on his hand. It was pressed hard against his shirt, covered with the ketchup he had managed to wipe off his pink/blue/white uniforms. Closing his eyes slowly, he took a moment to breathe and calm his racing heart before he looked up at her again. "It will be ready in a minute." He assured her and hurried to retreat.

He walked over to behind the service counter and reached for a small white cloth. He took a deep breath, fighting the dizziness before bowing his head and attempting to clean the ketchup off his uniforms. The cloth didn't help much, but it at least helped clean the blo-ketchup off his hands. Another heat wave flooded his body and for a moment he felt too disoriented to open his eyes or move. His fever was rising, he could tell. He coughed quietly and reached for the coffee pot. He made his way back to the woman and her son.

The dizziness returned in full force, making the world whirl wildly around him. His legs felt weak all of a sudden, unable to support him. He waddled from side to side as he walked, the coffee inside the pot splashing like a stormy ocean in a glass pot. He was taking quick and shallow breaths, trying to force his lungs back into proper action. He wheezed loudly, his breathing coming out as sickly gurgling. Still he kept walking forward, maintaining somewhat of a straight line. When he reached the table he was suddenly attacked by a fierce coughing fit. Combined with his dizziness, the fit was so intense it made him tumble forward and fall. The coffee went with him, spilling all over the little boy.

The small diner shook and rattled as the little boy let out a loud, frightened, scream.

"DENIS!" His mother called out in fear, leaping out of her chair and launching at him with worry. "What did you do, you fuck!" She screamed at Heero, holding her weeping son in her hands.

Heero swallowed, his glazed eyes looking down at the two with a distant detachment. He had just killed another child...

People from all around the diner were looking at him accusingly. His boss popped out of nowhere, quickly pressing a wet cloth to the child's torso. The boy kept crying loudly, his screams echoing inside Heero's mind and stabbing his heart like knives.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." He mumbled, still unable to grasp what he had done. "I... I didn't mean it... I'm sorry..." It was like he was speaking from a dream, the reality around him blending with the horrors of his memories and dreams. "I... killed... I'm... so-sorry..."

Someone grabbed his hand all of a sudden and dragged him forcefully into the kitchen. Heero didn't tear his gaze off the worried mother tending her child, his horrified eyes watching them unblinkingly. When the kitchen door slammed in his face he suddenly blinked, returning to reality. He turned around slowly.

Malcolm, his boss, was standing in front of him, glaring at him with all his worth.

Heero's eyes filled with tears despite his effort to stop them. "Sir..." He began, having nothing to say. "I'm..."

"What the hell were you thinking?!" The man growled, looking up at Heero with harsh eyes.

Heero bowed his aching head sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, sir. Please don't fire me... I can't find another job... no one will take me..."

"That's no reason to be coming to work sick!" The old man muttered, shaking his head. His tone was softer as he looked up at Heero with compassion. The boy looked absolutely miserable. He sighed, shaking his head again. "Relax kid. Fortunately for us you were so out of it that you forgot to actually boil the pot. The boy was just crying from the shock."

Heero looked up, his gaze unbelieving. He sighed and closed his eyes slowly, bowing his head in shame.

Malcolm sighed. "Go home, kid. You shouldn't have come here if you're so sick." He patted his shoulder lightly. "Come back when you're feeling better."

His head still bowed, Heero shook his head. "No... I... I'm already a terrible worker, and if I'll miss any work days..."

"Oh, don't be ridicules!" Malcolm spat, waving his hand in the air. "I'm not going to fire you for the same reason I hired you in the first place!"

Heero looked up at him, confused.

The old man sighed. "Kid, I ain't gonna fire an ex-Gundam pilot just because he came down with a cold!"

Heero blinked, shocked.

His boss smiled in amusement. "What, you think you're the only one who has fought a war? Back in AC 145 I was fighting just like you did. And I know exactly what it's like for you right now." He sighed heavily, placing a warm hand on Heero's slender shoulder. "Go home, Heero. Come back when you're feeling better."

"You're not... you're not going to fire me?"

The man smiled and shook his head. "Go, kid. I'll call ya a cab."

Heero managed to sort of smile back, his eyes shining in gratitude. "There's... there's no need, sir. Thank you. I've... I've misjudged you."

The old man nodded, escorting him to the door. "It happens." He said, handing Heero his jacket. "I'll see ya later, kid."

Heero nodded and took the offered jacket. "Thank you sir. I'll... I'll come back tomorrow."

"Sure you will. Take care of yourself, okay?" He gave him a last pat on the back and then showed him out of the door. Smiling sadly, Heero nodded his answer and left the diner.

* * *

During the twenty minute bus ride home, Heero laid his head against the cool window and indulged in the cool feeling against his burning forehead. He drifted in and out of sleep, his head slumping forward and then quickly jerking awake again as images of corpses and accusing eyes assaulted him. He clenched his fists and tensed his jaw, trying to keep his sanity for a while longer, at least until he got home. He held onto that last thread of sanity even as he missed his bus stop (because he fell asleep) and had to walk in the rain all the way back to his apartment building.

He arrived to his apartment completely exhausted and out of breath. His lungs ached and it was difficult to breathe. He collapsed on the bed, his shoes and wet jacket still on, and slipped into a thick black sleep.

* * *

In her dark and cold apartment, Nora sat by the kitchen table, her fingers tapping on it impatiently. On the table lay a steaming pot, emitting a wonderful smell of home cooking. Her unseeing blue eyes were gazing ahead at nothing at all, deep in thought. She was debating over the same question for hours, as the soup she made boiled on the stove and even now as it cooled on the table.

The apartment was silent. Empty. Cold. It was like a grave. A grave she had dug for herself and settled deeply into. A few weeks ago a weak ray of light broke into her grave. She had managed to see it despite her blindness. She felt it. She heard it. And now, she missed it.

The solemn young man who was kind enough to stay over for lunch, he was that ray of light. She still smiled as she remembered his sheepish voice and hesitation when he had shyly asked for more food. He was just like a growing boy should be - incredibly hungry. It made her feel warm inside to be able to serve him lunch. The small and humble act might not mean much to most people, be it mothers or sons, but it meant the world to her.

It had awakened something within her. Something she thought she had lost long ago. The company of that young man, the quiet conversation she had with him, had soothed her loneliness a little bit. It melted the tip of the iceberg that was her heart. She found herself thinking about him all the time. Thinking about his voice, that sad, quiet and remorseful voice. There was so much pain in his voice, so much saddness. She wondered if she was the only one aware of it. If nothing else, her hearing was more developed than others. And for some bizarre reason, she was extra sensitive on picking up things from this particular boy.

Heero. She wanted to see him again. Well, as far as she could actually see him.

With that resolve in mind, Nora stood up quickly. She reached two hands to hold the pot by its handles and took a deep, nervous, breath. Well, she won't be getting anywhere if she'll keep sitting in her kitchen and brood over the same topic over and over again. She might as well give it a shot.

* * *

During the last few weeks she ran a little "investigation" to find out where Heero lived, exactly. He had told her that he lived two floors above hers, but still she didn't know which apartment. She spent a lot of time by the mailboxes in order to find the exact address. It was the mailman who was kind enough to read the names off the mailboxes for her and tell her the number of the apartment as he slipped a stack of second-notice bills into it.

Now she was standing in front of that apartment, a pot full of soup in her hands along with a heart full of hope and dread pounding in her chest. She took a few long breaths, trying to relax. Surely this young man was too nice to reject her and tell her to leave. Still, she didn't want to come off as pushy and pathetic. Even though she was, pathetic, that it. Sighing lengthily, Nora bent down and placed the pot on the floor. She knocked on the door.

No one was answering. She tried again. No one answered. Her heart was beating frantically. What if he was avoiding her? What if he didn't want her there?

No! That was absurd. He didn't even approach the door. She hadn't heard his steps. She could already recognize the sound of his footsteps, despite them being so silent. He had such pleasant footsteps. But his apartment was silent, no sound of footsteps coming from behind the door.

She knocked again. "Heero? Are you there? It's... it's me, uh... Nora."

Silence. Perhaps he was asleep? What time was it? Could it be that it was already late at night? How long had she been sitting in her kitchen anyway?

"Heero?" She tried again, knocking softly on the door. She sighed when there was no answer and bowed her head sorrowfully. Perhaps he had other things to attend to. Perhaps he wasn't as lonely as he sounded. Maybe she had it all wrong.

Sighing heavily, she bent down to pick her soup off the floor. But as she bent down she accidentally hit her head on the doorknob and for some odd reason the handle was pushed down, and just like that- the door opened.

Nora stood up again, stunned at the sound of the opening door. She could feel the shifting of air as the door slowly opened. An awful smell was coming out of the apartment. She wrinkled her nose and took a small, hesitant, step forward.

"Heero?" She called carefully, picking up the pot and slowly walking into the apartment.

She could immediately feel the chilly air of the apartment touch her skin. The apartment was extremely cold, and she could feel that it was dark. She couldn't sense any daylight touching her skin. There was a bad odor inside. It was moldy and rotten, suggesting that the place was filthy. It was worse than her place. Granted, the heating wasn't working anywhere in the poorly maintained building, but this apartment was colder than the rest. It felt... lonely. Like a tomb.

She placed the pot on the floor and reached to close the door behind her. She felt her way around, her fingers feeling along a small table, a chair and a phone. She encountered a few books, papers and pens. Everything she touched felt cold, like ice. It didn't take her long to find the sofa that was at the center of the small room, which was the only room in the small apartment besides the bathroom and the kitchen. She ran her hands over the back of the sofa, feeling her way around it. By what it felt like she could tell that the sofa was open so it was in the size of a small double bed.

She felt her way around the bed, carefully climbing on it. She kneeled on the edge of the bed and continued her search. Her hands soon encountered a pair of muddy shoes, damp trousers... a wet shirt... and a chest that was heaving up and down with great effort.

"Oh God..." She whispered, her features horrified. She couldn't even hear him breathe! Even with her acute sense of hearing, she could barely make out the sound of his breathing.

"Heero?" She called for him, crawling to his side, her hands seeking his face. She ran long fingers through his damp bangs. The stanch of sweat was burning her nostrils. His features were soaked with salty sweat, as was his neck and shirt. He was running a terrible fever.

"Goodness, you're burning." She whispered, her hands working to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Beneath her, Heero moaned in pain and titled his head aside. He began coughing when she moved his head up to place a pillow under it. His breath came hard and shallow, wheezing and struggling to breathe. Her cool and frantic fingers ran frenziedly over his body, anxious to help, to heal. His subconscious barely registered Nora's desperate attempts to help him. He did not wake even when she stripped him and placed a warm blanket over him. He didn't hear her when she begged him to be okay, he was in a place too far to be hearing any of her pleas.

* * *

He was sitting on the soft grass, washed by warm white light. The air was sweet and warm, carrying the scent of flowers. Birds were chirping, bugs were buzzing. The grass was soft and his little chubby legs were lying straddled on it, his pants, socks and shoes covered in mud. He reached his hands forward to look at them, suddenly very amazed by the fact of how small they were. The small and chubby palms (Could they possibly be his hands? They were too small to pilot anything...) were covered with mud as well. He continued digging in the moist earth, searching for worms.

It was getting late and the color of the metal skies - mommy said that they were not really skies because they didn't live on Earth - was changing shade, becoming darker and dimmer. Daddy should be home soon. His tummy was making funny noises. He picked up his little jar - he had three worms in it! - and ran home.

Second building to the right, just behind the trees in the park. He burst into the kitchen, the whole apartment rushing by him in a blur. His home smelled like cooking and flowers. His mommy was waiting for him there. He collided with her and hugged her long blue dress tightly. The blue dress was his favorite because it was the same color as the skies - the real skies - were.

"Mommy! Mommy!" He called happily, his tiny voice joyful and squeaky (Was it his voice? It was so different...). "Look how many I found!"

His mommy always smelled nice and he loved it when she reached her long arms to hug him back.

"Look! Look! I found THREE of them!" He said, grinning.

He couldn't see her face because her hair was always in the way. He liked her hair, it was very pretty and long and it shone under the faintest light. She reached down to caress his head, ruffling his messy hair in affection. He could hear her voice smiling.

"That's wonderful sweetheart. What are they?" She asked with a smile (No! There was much sadness in her voice! Couldn't he hear it?!), her voice rang like bells.

"They're worms." He explained with that tiny voice of his (This wasn't how he sounded like!) bowing his head down a bit as he felt her fingers brushing through his hair. Mommy always liked to pet his hair. Her long fingers were white and warm and they were very soft. He loved it when she caressed his face, tracing her fingers over his eyes, nose and lips. She could feel his smile, or his tears and even his anger. If he was sick her fingers could always tell.

She didn't notice that he was covered with mud. She didn't care so she wasn't mad. When daddy will come home, after he would go to sleep, he will hear them argue about it. They would speak in those words he doesn't know (They were English, foolish boy...) and then they would go back to sleep.

He reached his little hand for hers, letting her hold his hand gently. He smiled at her, every part of him feeling warm and happy. "I wanna show them to daddy. When is he coming home?"

"Daddy's working late tonight, sweetie. He'll be coming home after dinner."

"After it's dark?" He asked, pouting.

Her fingers were playing with his hair again. They were sadder this time because they moved slower. "Yes, sweetie. After it gets dark."

But it was already dark! Everything was dark! And cold! So cold...... There weren't any gentle fingres. They were holding him down by force, thier fingers digging into his flesh. They were as cold as ice, freezing. They kept touching him all the time. Stop!

"Stop it! Stop! Please!" He begged (Could this be his voice then? Was he crying?)

They held him down by force, restraining him, holding him down on all fours. There was someone in his mouth. Someone else was inside him. Deep inside. It hurt, ripping his body into half. His penis was grabbed forcefully. He began to cry.

"Stop! Stop it! Please! Urgh! Please stop..."

He was raped brutally, alone in a dark OZ prision cell. His voice was weak, hoarse and pathetic when he cried. Again it was hard for him to recognize his own voice.

"I found him down the hallway, in an isolated prison cell." Trowa said, "I was too late to stop it, I'm sorry." He placed him down in someone's lap. It was warm...

"Take care of him. He's scheduled for more testing on the Mercurius tomorrow. They'll kill him if he'll be inefficient." [i]

Warm arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly as if angry at something. "Why can't they take me instead?!" Duo growled, his hold on him nearly crushing. It hurt. Duo...

"Shhh... it's all right... I'm so sorry, Heero... It's all right..." Duo was caressing his hair gently, soothingly. His voice was warm and bittersweet. Like honey. He Liked it.

"You're hard to miss."

The man's voice reminded him of Duo. That's why he had agreed to go with him.

"...but I get the feeling that it isn't exactly what you want..."

He ended up being raped again, even if it was done with his full consent.

"...am I right?"

"Hold me?"

Duo's fingers were soft and gentle, caring even. They petted his features, tracing them carefully, like trying to create an image of him in the dark.

"I am not a whore!"

"Mommy! Look what I found!"

"What are they, sweetheart?"

Soft fingers touching him, petting him, feeling his smile...

"Get out! GET OUT!"

"When is daddy coming home? Does he work ALL the time? I want... I want him to come home!"

"It's all right, sweetie... everything is going to be all right..."

"I'm cold..." He whispered back.

"Shh, Heero... shh... I'm here..." Duo assured him.

"I woke up in the hospital and there was no one there... you left..." He mumbled, remembering the end of the war for some reason. He lived on the streets, cold and hungry, until Malcolm took him in.

"I was alone..."

"I'm here with you now, Heero. I'm here..." The gentle hands continued saying softly. "I'll take care of you. Shh... just rest... I'll take care of you... just rest..."

"N...Nora..?"

"Shh, Heero. Shh..."

Dream and consciousness mixed together into a hazy reality. Cool liquid was served to his parched lips. He struggled to lift his head a little and sip it. His head was too heavy. A gentle hand sneaked under his head, supportng him. The water was touching his cracked lips again. He gulped it hungrily. He was so hot...

Another hand was touching him, cool and long fingers pushing his bangs aside gently. He took a shaky breath, his lungs faltering. He coughed, spitting out some water. He could feel it slide down his chin. The gentle fingers wiped the liquid away.

"Shhh... it's okay..." A soft voice whispered.

"Wha... wh... where..?" He slurred sleepily, trying to open his eyes and look around. The ill feeling was just too much. He closed his eyes again, his body shivering from fever. "Wh... who is... here..?" He asked feebly, the water he drank already making him nauseous. He moaned miserably and sunk his head into pillow.

The cool hands were touching him again, trying to soothe his aching body. He whimpered silently and tried to move away from the touch.

"No... please..." He mumbled in distress, struggling to force his limbs to move. "I don't want to... I don't... who is..? Please stop... I... I've been a... a good... I'm not a... I'm not a whore... I'm... don't touch me..."

"Shhh... Heero, it's me." The voice whispered again as soothingly as can be. It reminded him of... something... long ago... "It's me. It's Nora. It's just me..."

Cobalt eyes glazed with pain and fever slowly opened, looking up at the figure hovering above them. It was too dark and blurry to see. He felt sick. He closed his eyes again, shivering and coughing. "I... I don't need... I want... please... it's cold..."

"Shhh... shhh, boy. Shhh. It's going to be all right. You're safe with me and I am not going to harm you. You're very sick, Heero. I just want to help."

His glazed eyes slowly opened and looked up in none-comprehension, blinking away the haze that surrounded his mind. "Wh...why me..?" He asked in a small voice, like a wounded child. "I... I'm... I'm not... not worth..."

Nora smiled down at him, brushing a few sweaty bangs out of his eyes. "Just returning the favor, Heero. That's all."

"I'm cold..." He mumbled again, coughing weakly. His head lolled to the side as the fever won over his consciousness.

* * *

He awoke to a feeling of pleasent heat surrounding him. He could feel tingly sunshine caressing his skin. His limp arms were lying over a thick quilt, washed by sunlight. He could sense the soft winter sun over his face and neck. It was a lovely sensation after being cold for so long. His cheeks felt warm, and they were probably still flushed with fever. His forehead was slightly damp with sweat, but he did not feel as sick as he had before.

He took a slow, careful breath, testing his lungs. They didn't ache so badly. They faltered a little when he breathed and he concluded that he was still recovering. He could also feel a warm and moist compress lying over his chest. It pressed closer to his skin when he inhaled deeply. The scent of herbs and mint engulfed him when he inhaled, emitting from the cloth.

He opened his eyes slowly, carefully, a slit of cobalt peeking from behind long eyelashes. There was so much light flooding his apartment that it was hard for him to recognize it at first. His apartment never seemed so... bright. The window behind his sofa/bed was wide open, letting the winter sunshine in. There was a soft breeze of fresh air coming into the small apartment, tousling his bangs gently. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, indulging himself in the feeling of crisp fresh air in his lungs.

It suddenly occurred to him that there was a delicious aroma of cooking in the air. The scent was delightful, warm and appetizing. His mouth watered and he licked his parched lips.

What happened while he slept? Who did all this? Who was there with him? There's no one... he had no one... Who took care of him? Was this another dream caused by fever? Another fantasy of some sort?

He attempted to get up, struggling to push his numb body off the bed. The effort proved to be too much for him. He collapsed back onto his pillow, coughing.

"Heero? Are you awake?" A pleasant voice asked, and someone was approaching him. He opened his eyes again, blinking in confusion when he saw Nora walking over to his bed, drying her hands with a colorful kitchen towel.

A kitchen towel? Since when does he have a colorful kitchen towel?!

"Nora..?" He whispered, his voice hoarse and rough with sickness. "What are you..." He frowned as he remembered some of his fever induced dreams. "So it was you..." He mumbled, turning to look up at her with shining blue eyes. "You took care of me."

The woman smiled, pushing her long brown hair over her shoulder. She settled carefully by his side, sitting on the edge of the sofa/bed. Her head was bowed, "looking" down at her knees as she straightened the folds on her ankle-length skirt. "I found you in a terrible state, Heero. I hope you don't mind my intrusiveness. I couldn't just leave you like that."

Heero nodded in understanding, looking at her softly. He took a moment to appreciate the way the light touched her long hair which cascaded down her back. He turned to look back up at her.

"Is that why you helped me? Out of pity?"

She sighed. "I could ask you the same. Did you help me because you pitted me for my blindness?" She turned to face him.

He shook his head slowly, his gaze serious and honest. "No. I helped you because you needed my help."

She smiled softly. "This is the same reason why I'm helping you."

His tired eyes shone with amusement and a weak smile hovered over his lips. "I can accept that." He whispered, his tone thankful. There were many questions he wanted to ask her right now, but he was too tired to move his lips. His eyelids were slowly fluttering shut.

"All right," Nora began slapping her knees gently before getting up. "Would you like something to eat? You've been asleep for two whole days."

His hollow stomach grumbled angrily in agreement. He smiled and nodded thankfully. "Maybe something little..." He mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning heavily into the pillow.

Nora nodded. "Sure. I'm preparing some soup. Would you like that?"

He nodded, forgetting that he had to provide a verbal answer. He was too warm and cozy, for once knowing that there will be someone there to worry instead of him, someone to take care of him, to lift the weight off his tired shoulders. The feeling helped him feel peaceful enough to sleep.

He was already half asleep when he remembered that Nora, despite her good intentions, was still blind and in a stranger's apartment. Groaning at the effort, he opened his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow.

"D-do you need any help?" He called at her, his elbow trembling and nearly giving way. He was still too weak.

From the kitchen, he could hear Nora chuckle. "Boy, I have been blind for as long as you've been alive. I think I can manage on my own." She chuckled again. "Well, despite what you've seen so far."

Heero smiled tiredly and nodded his head. He slumped back into the pillow. The sound of bubbling water and a knife against the cutting board came softly from the kitchen, lulling him gently to sleep. He turned to lie on his side, curling into the covers and moving his head in the direction of the warm winter sunlight. His features were calm and content while he slept.

* * *

The following weeks went by like a dream. Sometimes Heero had to stop whatever he was doing and remind himself that he was still awake. It was hard to realize because everything changed since he had gotten sick. Everything he had learned to accept as a part of his world changed. The darkness, the cold, the feeling of loneliness... it slowly melted like the snow in springtime. His eternal winter slowly vanished, leaving room for hope to blossom.

Nora and he became very close since he fell ill. She nursed him back to health, caring and gentle, her calm presence and comforting words soothing his aching soul. He was very feverish at times, so he didn't recall clearly what he might have said to her, and how much she knew of the dark things he kept inside his heart, but since she didn't seem frightened or appalled by him, he supposed that it didn't matter. When he fully recovered she left his apartment and made him promise to visit her whenever he could.

He was timid about visiting her often, he was afraid of becoming a nuisance, however Nora's consistent invitations for dinner or tea were enough to assure him that he was indeed welcomed. It became their custom to spend have an afternoon tea together each day. Heero came over for dinner every weekend, and sometimes even during the week. He would return from the diner, shower and then go straight to Nora's, where he was expected. He rarely used his apartment anymore.

Days he used to spend lying depressed in his cold bed became full of activity and warmth. He helped her clean her apartment, and he fixed anything that needed to be tended to. In return she gave him cooking lessons. She taught him how to make something that was "a little more interesting than an omelet", as she often said with a wink. He began eating regularly, taking the time to enjoy the meal and not just fill his body's necessities. It was easier to do because unlike before, he had someone to share a meal with.

One lesson stood out from all the others, the memory of it leaving a small smile on his lips. Nora taught him how to make rice balls on some rainy Friday afternoon. The kitchen was messy and the apartment was warm. He took some time that weekend to fix the central heating unit in the building, so the atmosphere was warm and cozy, which placed Heero in a particularly good mood that day. He was standing in the kitchen, wearing a floweryapron, Nora's hands guiding his palms as they shaped the rice balls together. He enjoyed that single moment in time; being warm and covered with flower from the pie they baked just before that. It felt... familiar in some way. Comfortable. He felt like a child again, carefree and careless. He even allowed himself to act a little silly, coaxing a small laugh out of the older woman, which made him smile in return. The memory was still warm in his heart. His whole world was becoming warmer.

That same memory was wrapping itself around his mind and pouring warmth through his body at this exact moment, as he leaned over the service counter at the diner, cleaning it. It was late noon and the diner was rather empty. Outside, the streets were covered with a blanket of snow, but the winter sun was out, washing the glowing white with warmth.

People's feet sunk into the snow as it weakened and melted, creating deep puddles everywhere. Looking out the diner's large windows, Heero could see another unfortunate passer-by sink into the snow and curse. He watched him in mild amusement and then returned to just staring at the counter.

"Yuy, kitchen." His boss called from somewhere behind the service window. Heero threw the cloth aside and made his way to the back. Raul, a fellow worker, took over his post at the cash register.

The moment Heero disappeared into the kitchen, the door to the diner opened and a blurry image of a man escaping the cold was seen rushing into the diner. The man, wearing a stylish brown leather jacket, a pair of dark blue jeans and a white scarf, wiped his brown boots on the small matte in the entrance, cursing silently as he looked down and saw that the bottom of his jeans were wet from the melting snow. Sighing, he looked up again and proceeded towards the counter.

Raul watched him approach, quickly scanning the stranger. Usually the diner had regular costumers, and it was rather unusual to see new faces. Especially a face like this one. The young man standing in front of him was about twenty, perhaps less, and he seemed rather clueless to his surrounding. His appearance, although meant to be presentable, was rather sloppy and his features seemed preoccupied. All in all he looked like any other tourist who had lost his way and was in a rush somewhere.

"May I help you sir?" The young waiter asked, looking patiently at the man before him.

"Yeah," The young man muttered, reaching a hand to his back and for some odd reason, shoving it underneath his jacket. Raul watched astound as the young man pulled a long chestnut braid from underneath his jacket and threw it casually over his shoulder.

"Man that rain!" He said with a laugh, wiping a few damp bangs out of his eyes. "And the wind! Whew!" He whistled, shaking his head. "I swear my car nearly tipped over!"

Raul smiled politely, having an easy time detecting the slight L2 accent in the man's voice. Now he was certain that he was not from around here.

"That's Earth for ya, sir." He replied with a smile. "Can I get you anything?"

"Uh..." The young, absent-minded looking man looked up at the menu stationed above the counter, his eyes narrowing as he read it. Meanwhile his hands were searching his pockets, until he looked down at Raul and pulled out a ragged bill. "Just coffee please. Uh, no, make it coffee-to-go. I'm kinda in a hurry here."

Raul nodded and made his way to the coffee machine. "You're here for the convention?"

The longhaired man gave out a chuckle. "That obvious, huh?" He said, unzipping his brown jacket to reveal a fashioned white turtleneck shirt. It suddenly made him look rather important. Elegant, if you may.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to give this big speech and everything," he continued, "Though I haven't the slightest as to where I'm going!" He finished with a sheepish chuckle.

Raul nodded, placing the cup of coffee on the counter. "You need to get to Harcourt Brace University. It's actually just a few blocks ahead."

The young man's eyes widened for a moment and then broke into a smile. "Really? You don't say... Guess I can navigate after all..." He mumbled, taking a short sip from his coffee. "So you're saying I should just keep going that way?" He used one hand to point at the window while he used the other to sip the drink.

The waiter nodded. "Yup. Big fancy building. Can't miss it. It looks like a freaking mausoleum or something."

The longhaired man chuckled at the remark. "Great." He said and placed an extra five dollars on the table. "Thanks for the tip!" He added with a wink and hurried to leave.

Raul watched the stranger as he walked into a small car parked in front of the diner and drove off. He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. It wasn't often that such a cheerful breeze swept over the gloomy diner, he mused, returning to work.

The kitchen door opened and Heero re-entered the diner.

"They need you in the kitchen." He told Raul, walking back to his post.

* * *

"What about this one?" Nora asked, raising a dark red, checkered shirt up and showing it to Heero. The two were in a small clothing bazaar inside a large shopping center. They were standing across of each other by a large stand containing piles over piles of shirts. Nora smiled and ran the fabric of the shirt between her fingers.

"It's flannel. It's very warm and comfortable. What do you think?" She nudged the shirt towards him.

Heero eyed the shirt in distaste, making a sour face. "It's checkered." He stated dryly. He was feeling very sheepish and self-conscious. It was not one of his habits to be shopping for clothes among a large crowd of people. Usually he threw whatever seemed to suit him into his supermarket cart and just finish the task. He didn't think he owned anything that wasn't bought at K-mart.

"Oh." Nora let out, frowning. She put the shirt aside and began feeling around for another shirt. "Well, how would I know?" She muttered jokingly, picking up another shirt and showing it to Heero. "And this one?" She nudged the shirt towards him. "It's silk. Feels kinda fancy." She added with a smile.

Sighing silently to himself (though by now he knew that no sound escaped Nora's ears), he ran his eyes over the shirt. It was a rather nice buttoned shirt. It was elegant yet young and refreshing. It seemed to be tight around the chest area and then loosening a bit around the waist. It looked like something a person his age would wear on a date or something like that. Something that he, of course, never attended.

"Is it not to your liking?" Nora's voice pulled him away from his musings.

"It's, uh, too stylish for me." Heero muttered, looking down at the pile of shirts in front of him. He began rummaging the pile, searching with no idea what he was really searching for. A shirt is just a shirt, he mused as he picked up a dark green tank top. He eyed it with abhorrence and quickly tossed it aside. Then again, he might want to reconsider that statement. He continued to search for a shirt that wil be to his liking.

"And this one? What color is it?" Nora asked, showing him another shirt.

Heero looked up, scanning it briefly. It was actauly kind of nice. Its figure was similar to the previous one, only much more modest. He liked it for some reason. Perhaps because of its color. It reminded him of something. Maybe. He wasn't sure.

"It's sky-blue." He finally said.

"Blue? That's great. It will bring out your eyes."

Heero stopped his search and looked up at her, frowning. He didn't recall telling her the color of his eyes. There was no real reason to do it. She never asked how he looked like. Maybe he hadn't heard right.

"What do you mean?" He asked quietly, just to confirm.

Nora frowned. "Mean by what? I said it would bring out your eyes. Some people say that a blue shirt will only drown blue eyes, but I think it will only make them look brighter."

"But..." Heero began, taking a few steps towards her. He stood in front of her, looking down at her with a frown. "I never told you that my eyes are blue."

She frowned, lifting her gaze in his general direction. Heero found himself searching her unseeing blue eyes for something, maybe a sign of sight. It was the second time she had guessed something about his appearance that was in fact true. It was somewhat... unnerving.

"Well..." She muttered, bowing her head. She let out a small sigh and shrugged. "I supposed that I... that I wanted you to have blue eyes. I'm blind, so I'm allowed to imagine you however I want, right?" She turned to face him again, smiling weakly. "I think that blue eyes suit you."

"Despite the fact that I told you that I'm Japanese?" Heero questioned, raising an eyebrow.

She chuckled. "Well, there are some rare cases... Besides, if it's any comfort I've also imagined you with black hair."

"It's brown." Heero shot back, smiling sarcastically.

"Oh." She frowned. "Well, did you dye it?"

"No." He chuckled.

"Are you sure you're Japanese?!" She spoke in mock-skepticism, earning another small chuckle out of him.

"No..." He admitted, smiling.

Nora chuckled, shaking her head. "You're hopelss." She stated, shoving the shirt into his hands. "And you're taking this shirt. We've been standing here long enough. Time to find you some trousers!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Heero paid for the shirt and the two moved on to a different stand.

* * *

After they finished their shopping, or rather after Nora was done dragging a reluctant Heero from one stand to another, the two settled in a small coffee shop somewhere in the mall. Placing their shopping bags aside, they ordered two cups of hot chocolate and an apple pie. When their orders arrived, Nora's mood suddenly became more serious than before. She was light and cheerful up until then, when suddenly she turned to "look" at him with a serious expression on her face.

"Heero," she began slowly, "I was thinking that maybe..." She paused, bowing her head briefly.

"What is it?" Heero asked, concerned. "Have I done something wrong?"

She chuckled, though it was a bitter chuckle. "No, no you haven't. As hard as it is to convince you of that..." She added in a low mutter. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him again. "I was thinking that maybe you should apply for an Earth Sphere Citizenship."

Heero had to take a moment to digest what she was suggesting. He slowly placed his cup down. "A... a citizenship?"

"Yes." Nora nodded to confirm. "You've mentioned to me before how much it bothers you to have no identity, well, officially speaking. And I heard on the news that they're now issuing citizenships for people whose records were lost during the war. The law was passed not so long ago. There was a big convention about it downtown a few weeks ago. Haven't you heard about it?"

Heero shook his head, still absorbing the proposition. "No, I haven't." He mumbled, the thought of having an I.D nearly overwhelming him. Being a non-existent person, with no roots, past, or even a name of his own, has always upset him. He had no roots or a past to connect to, but perhaps it was time to create one. Every root began from a small lonely seed. Maybe it was up to him to plant the first one. He never gave much thought for his future, but it was something that he was beginning to consider nowadays. He did want to belong somewhere. He wanted to be remembered after his death. A person with no identity would easily vanish without a trace, without any evidence of his life. He didn't want to end up that way.

Taking a long breath, he looked up at her. There was hesitation in his eyes. "But... but what name can I use? I have no name of my own."

Nora smiled gently, reaching a hand over the table and placing it gently over his palm. "Your name is just fine. I don't know much about how you've come across it, but I do know that it is your name as much as it was the name of the deceased Heero Yuy. This is what the war had shaped you into. I think that there is a lot of heritage and meaning behind that name. I don't think you can find anything more suitable."

He tried to smile, though it faltered. He was too busy thinking over questions he never had to deal with seriously. Creating a bogus identity was child's play, but now when he was faced with the task of creating his own, permanent, factual and earnest identity, the so-called "little" details were at their utmost importance. He didn't want his "true" identity, the one he wanted to pass on when he dies, to be false as well. He wanted those details to be his own, to belong solely to him, and not to be chosen randomly. He wanted his identity to have true meaning, otherwise it was all pointless.

"My birth date..." He murmured after some thought, his features troubled. "I don't even know when I was born. I can guess my age, very vaguely, but I will not be able to answer if they ask for my date of birth."

Nora seemed to be considering what he said, leaning heavily into her chair. She was silent for a while, until she turned to look at him seriously. "Do you know what happened on April 6th? Anything important?"

Heero sighed and bowed his head. "Operation Meteor." He whispered, looking around nervously before facing her. "You say I should use that date as my birthday?"

She chuckled bitterly. "The irony of it seems fitting enough."

He was silent for a long time, his eyes glazing over as he stared at the steam rising from his mug.

"Heero, I think that this citizenship will be a big step towards creating your future." She tried to encourage him. "You do plan on building a future, aren't you?"

Heero sighed, shifting from side to side on his chair. "I have thought about it, a little..."

"You're a talented and intelligent young man. You're kind, compassionate and decent. You deserve a good life just like any other person."

Again Heero shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He refused to look up from his mug. "I don't know about that..."

Nora sighed, leaning towards him. She fixed her blind eyes on him, her gaze extremely serious. "You mean because of your past. Because of what you did as a soldier."

Heero didn't look up. They never spoke about their pasts. They voiced their opinions about the war, about life, death and many other trivial topics, but never dared to venture into the past. He couldn't claim to know much about her history, he only knew that it caused her much sadness, just like his past had done to him. But he wasn't surprised that she had guessed it by her self. He didn't make it hard to guess.

"It's quite understandable." Nora assured him with a soothing voice. "Many young men were recruited to OZ. That sonofabitch leader of theirs didn't care for the soldier's age as long as they could fight."

Heero shook his bowed head and sighed deeply. "I wasn't in OZ."

Nora frowned. "Oh." She took a moment to think and then turned to him with a skeptic expression. "Well, you couldn't possibly have been a Federation soldier. You were too young."

"No. I wasn't at the Federation either."

"Then where..?" She wondered out loud, until it suddenly dawned on her. "Wait a minute," she excalimed, turning to face him, "You're from the Colonies?!"

Heero nodded slowly, and then added a small "Yes."

Nora seemed shocked, leaning slowly back in her chair. There was a distant and haunted expression on her face as she mumbled: "I had no idea..." They were silent for a while, lost in thoughts. Nora was stirring her drink distractedly while Heero stared down at his lap.

"Does that mean you were fighting with those extremists... with those maniacs, White Fang?!"

He shook his head. "No..." He sighed, shifting his pose again. "Worse..."

"But that leaves just..." Her eyes widened and she hurried to place a hand over her mouth in a gasp. She leaned closer to whisper to him- "You were a Gundam pilot?!"

He sighed quietly, providing no answer and yet telling it all. Nora pulled back, stunned. "Dear Lord..." She whispered, horrified. "But you were... you were only... how old were you? Fifteen!? Dear God..."

"Yeah..." He mumbled, his eyes glazing over as he kept staring numbly at his lap.

"And you piloted those monsters? By... by choice?"

Heero shifted in his seat, his blue eyes darkening with haunting memories and regret. "Yes, and no." He bowed his head, looking down at his fidgeting fingers. "I was merely a child when they took me. I don't think it would have done any good if I had refused. I was only eight years old... What could I have done? They had their eyes on me since I was young... I didn't have much choice." He explained with a shaky voice, sounding as if he was on the verge of crying. He never spoke to anyone about this. Not even the other pilots. No one knew how he came to be one of the most fearsome warriors on Earth and in Space. He tried not to think about it himself. It was far too troubling to enter a circle of "what-if" thoughts.

"And your parents?" Nora asked, her voice also trembling, not with horror, but with sympathy. She felt so sorry for him, his anguish and regret painfully obvious in his voice.

"I don't have any parents." He confessed quietly. "I can barely remember if I ever had... I think I did... once..." He whispered sadly, closing his eyes. "I'm never sure if it's a fantasy or a distant memory. Most of my early memories are just... wishful thinking."

A few images flickered through his mind, whether dream or truth he was never sure, but they were the only memories he possessed of his forgotten past. Bright images of an apartment, a park, an apple pie and his mother's sky-blue dress. Just a few brief flashes of smiles, warm hands, long hair that shone under the light and the feeling of a caress. He never knew whether it indeed happened to him, or were those images merely the broken dreams of a child that was murdered long ago.

"I'm so sorry, Heero..." Nora whispered, her eyes tearful. Her heart was bleeding for him.

He sighed, closing his eyes sadly. "Me too..."

They were silent for a few long moments, both of them brooding. After some time, Heero took a deep breath and slowly turned to look up at her. He smiled softly, his eyes glittering with tears, but nevertheless there was a small, thankful, smile on his lips.

"Thank you, Nora." He said quietly.

She turned to look at him, confused. "For what?"

"For listening. For... for believing in me. In my future. I think I'll try to acquire that citizenship."

A small smile touched her lips, the light returning to her features. "That's wonderful." She whispered back with a smile and a tearful pair of eyes.

* * *

Three weeks later, his citizenship was approved and he came to collect it. The process was surprisingly easy. Even though he had no birth records, no reliable documents of any kind of either going to school, serving in the army, having a job or anything else that might have left his mark in the world; he was able to issue a request for an Earth Sphere Citizenship.

The clerk handling his case was a bit doubtful when Heero declared the reason for his lack of identity, stating that he was a Gundam pilot during the war. The man refused to believe, and therefore he had to transfer the request to higher ranks. The request climbed up the ladder of authority, reaching as far as the Earth Sphere Government Hall in Brussels, where it was approved by the Foreign Minister herself, Ms. Relena Darlian. The approval for his request came back with a perfumed letter wishing him well in life and many hugs and kisses. He blushed as the clerk at City Hall handed it to him, eyeing him strangely.

From there the road was smooth and easy. All he had to do was fill out a few forms, take a picture and provide the signature of at least one citizen who could vouch for him (that was done by Nora, of course). The stamp was applied to the proper papers, and just like that he got himself an identity: "The Earth Sphere Alliance Government herby states that Heero Yuy, male, born on April 6th AC 180 on the L1 cluster, colony unknown, is an Earth Sphere Alliance Citizen, with all the rights and duties that come with this citizenship. Serial Social Number 7283101-39512140."

And that was that. Heero Yuy, not a great politician, nor a fearsome warrior, was officially born.

The first thing he decided to do with his newly acquired citizenship was to go back to school. He felt like his brain was slowly deteriorating, his potential being wasted. He was useless and unproductive. He hated the feeling. It made him feel empty and worthless. He hated the feeling of inefficiency. He was a person who was used to being active, being useful. Even though he didn't always enjoy what he was doing, and on many cases he didn't approve of his own actions, he still took some sort of comfort from being occupied. A life spent lying around doing nothing was worthless. He wanted his life to go somewhere, to have a certain direction, an aim and a purpose. He had no intention becoming the cheap inadequate human being he always felt like.

He decided to enroll in the local university in order to help him find the purpose he sought. Harcourt Brace University was glad to give him the opportunity to achieve his goal. It was one of very few universities on Earth that opened its gates to ex-military students. Their only conditions were that he was to take a few tests to prove himself, go through a standard SAT test, and enroll in an Academic Preparation prior to starting his degree. If he will pass all of the above he will receive a post-military service scholarship and enter the university. The world was beginning to show its kindness to ex-military personnel. Young men and women who lost their past and future all because they fought to protect their home were finally being rewarded the way they should. They were finally given a second chance as laws supporting humanitarian aid to former soldiers were passed in the Earth Sphere pacifist government.

The day he was scheduled to meet the dean in order to hear the university's final verdict about his registration request, Nora offered to go with him. It was a sunny winter day, the weather becoming more pleasant as spring approached. Harcourt Brace was a large ancient stone building with a classic 19th century design. Huge windows towered over gigantic halls and wide corridors. The building was flooded with sunlight that washed the colorfully patterned floors and the cream-colored walls. Everything was perfectly polished and decorative. Nevertheless the place did not appear sterile. On the contrary, it was quite lively. Many students walked the halls, chatting and smiling as they walked from class to class, holding their books. The teaching staff seemed friendly, greeting their students in the halls and vice a versa.

The offices were located at the top floor, a large panorama window overlooking the beautiful yard that stood behind the building. Many students were sitting around the garden, some on benches, some slouching under a tree and some sitting by the fountain at the center of the small park. The garden was located at the heart of the university structure, which closed around it in a square shape.

Heero took the time to gaze out the window as he waited to be called into the dean's office. He was rather nervous, sweating inside his clothing. He was wearing a white dress shirt and a pair of his good jeans, trying to look somewhat presentable, though his hair seemed to disagree, being as messy as ever. He paced the waiting room back and forth, trying to calm down. He had no idea what to do if this university will turn him down.

"Would you stop moving around so much? You're making me dizzy!" Nora called at him, laughing lightly. The sound of his footsteps, moving left and right, was driving her crazy.

Heero stopped abruptly, and sighed. "Gomen." He muttered, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting room.

"You have no reason to be nervous. You aced every test they threw at you. You earned that scholarship fair and square."

"I hope you're right." He mumbled, looking down at his hands.

"Mr. Yuy?" The dean's secretary opened the door to his office and peeked into the waiting room. She smiled at Heero's direction. "The dean will see you now."

Nodding in acknowledgment and got up. Nora smiled in his general direction. She didn't have to say anything, one smile was enough. Heero smiled back and walked into the office.

A few minutes after Heero disappeared into the office, Nora got up in search for the rest rooms. She made her way out of the waiting room, with the aid of her cane, and began searching the halls. When she had no luck finding the bathrooms, she decided to stop the useless search and seek someone who could help her.

It was probably the hand of fate that guided her down a certain hallway, and straight into someone. She bumped into someone, and immediately jumped back. She could hear books falling in a clatter to the floor, and a soft curse.

"Damn it..."

"I'm so sorry." She hurried to apologize. "I didn't see you." She added in a helpless smile, turning her head up in the general direction she had heard the curse come from.

The person she had just bumped into was silent for a moment, until she heard him (her?) sigh helplessly.

"It's my fault, ma'am. I didn't look where I was going." The person (definitely male) replied softly. He had a nice voice, kind of bittersweet and warm. He sounded young and optimistic. His voice made her smile.

"Enough apologizing." She said, kneeling down to search for the fallen books. Her hands sought the area around them, grabbing a few books and collecting them into a pile. She could hear the other's clothes rustle as he bent down to help her.

"Please, ma'am, there's no need."

"Nonsense." She objected, picking up another book. "There you go." She handed him the pile of books. "I hope that's all."

"It is. Thank you." The young man spoke softly, taking the books from her. They both rose to their feet. "May I help you? Were you lost?"

Nora smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Yes. I was searching for the ladies' room."

She could somehow sense the man's smile. "There's one on the way to the main office. I'm heading there myself. Come on." She could hear him pick up her cane from the floor, the metal scrapping against the polished wood. He took her hand, and she tensed for a moment. His hand was warm and soft, harmless, and she quickly relaxed. She let him lead her to the office.

A few months ago she would have been very distrustful and even rude to that young man, even if he was simply trying to help her. It was a defense mechanism she had developed over the years. Blind people were easy targets for criminals and bored soldiers during the war. It was easy to become their prey. She learned to be strong and independent, or she would have never survived the war. When the war ended she remained imprisoned inside her own protective walls, trapped inside her own icy fortress.

It was Heero who changed all that. He was a person who was easy to trust. There was a certain air around him, a certain feeling one got by simply standing by his side. It was that intensity of his presence, that comforting and inspiring spirit of his, which made her feel safe enough to let her guard down. It was that timid yet confident voice of his. That extreme contrast between his fragility and strength. He was such a strong and mature young man, and yet, he was only a shy little boy who was still trying to get by in life. How could one feel hostile towards such a person?

The need to help his troubled soul and offer him as much comfort as she could was what drove her to breach the walls of her fortress. She wanted to be there for him. She wanted to care for him. She wanted to ­feel for him. It would have been a crime if she would have let his kind and gentle spirit wither away in loneliness. He didn't deserve such treatment.

So she helped him. She forced herself to overcome her habit of pushing people away, and invited him into her world. Before she knew it, she was a different person. As she "watched" him overcome his insecurity and come out of his solitude, step by step, slowly but gradually, she found that she too was changing. They walked that journey together, hand in hand, slowly learning to trust humanity again. It was a beautiful feeling, and it was what made her able to trust this young stranger she just met. She knew that there was no need to be so hostile anymore. Heero made her believe in human compassion again. He was a ruthless warrior once, and yet remained a benevolent young man in his heart. That was enough to make her see that there was still some goodness left in man's heart.

Lost in her musings, Nora suddenly became aware of a certain sound. As they walked together closely she kept hearing this odd "whooshing" sound, and she also felt a light breeze touching her wrist. She was baffled by the reason for this sound and couldn't keep herself from satisfying her curiosity. She bit her lower lip, biting back a chuckle, and quickly made her move. She freed her hand from the young man's grasp and hurried to reach for the source of the sound. She ended up grabbing something forcefully and tugging it hard.

"Ouch!" The young man let out and jumped. "What the?!" He exclaimed, turning around quickly.

Nora chuckled. "Oh! It's your hair!" She called, laughing. "I'm sorry!" She apologized, still snickering.

"Huh?" The young man let out dumbly, and she could hear him scratch his head, probably from pain or confusion. "You could hear my hair?"

She nodded, smiling sheepishly. "Yup. It keeps 'whooshing' all the time. I figured you either have a tail or I'm delusional. I have to admit I didn't consider a braid as a possibility."

"You are one strange woman." The young man muttered, though she could tell that he was amused. "Next time just, uh, ask, all right?"

"No problem." She replied smoothly, still smiling. "Now, I really have to find that bathroom."

The man chuckled. "Sure. I'll take you there." He said, taking her hand again. They resumed walking.

"I'm Duo, by the way." He said casually, finally coming to a stop. He let go of her hand.

"Nora." She replied, smiling at him. "And thanks for showing me the way."

"Anytime. I gotta go back to class, so uh, will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Thank you." She assured him.

"Right. Well then, good day to you Nora." He hurried to bid his goodbye and with a final, clumsy, handshake, he ran off. She waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps, and then shook her head in amusement. What a funny young man. He reminded her of Heero, somehow. It was odd. They sounded nothing alike, but it was something in that sheepish note of his voice that reminded her of Heero.

Shrugging at the thought, she turned and entered the bathroom.

Part 3

Back