Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Broken Wing ❯ Broken Wing - Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Broken Wing ~ Chapter Six



Authors Note: Lookie lookie! Didn't I do good? Not a long wait this time! Teehee! Anyways, no, there isn't a lot of action yet . . . sorry to those of you who are waiting for it. Don't worry, it WILL come. There are just some other things that I have to take care of before the action can start. It should be another chapter or two at most. If not, feel free to beat me to a bloody pulp! Just save my hands… otherwise I won't be able to type.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailormoon. I don't own Gundam Wing either. Dangit, I just don't own anything, do I? ::sighs::


Broken Wing ~ Chapter Six



"Thank you, Quatre," the woman called Setsuna murmured to him as he handed her a cup of tea. The boy nodded quietly and straightened to look for what had to be the millionth time towards the girl Setsuna had brought to them.
She sat beside Duo on the living room couch, straight and proper, as if some cultural sense of morality drove her to act such in the presence of these young men. Quatre found himself staring at her. True, her long hair was sunlight gold and not the soft silver of moonbeams. But her eyes . . . her eyes were the same clear, iridescent blue of the sad princess of his dream. If he gazed at her long enough, he could almost see the touch of royalty to her features, a hint of sorrow in her kind gaze. Could it be? Could she truly be . . .
Her eyes swung to him.
She'd felt him watching her. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the side as she looked on him curiously. Quatre gulped and blushed, embarrassed at having been caught being so rude. Quickly he looked downwards and moved to the other side of Duo, setting his own cup of tea on the coffee table that waited before them.
Across the way Setsuna had settled herself comfortably on the small loveseat and sipped her tea delicately. To her right, in a plush chair sat Wufei, his blade resting in his lap as a warning to Duo against any sudden or suspicious movement. To Quatre's right in a matching chair sat Hiiro, calmly drinking a steaming mug of coffee, eyes downcast as usual. And behind them, standing away from the rest of the group, Trowa stood with his back to them, gazing out at the drizzling rain that had begun only a few moments before. Quatre hazarded a glance over his shoulder at the lone boy, and wished that Trowa would join them. At his left Duo shifted and sighed, no doubt so bored with the quiet he could barely stand it.
"You're all wondering why I've gone through all of this trouble," Setsuna finally said, carefully placing her cup on its saucer. She leaned forward and set the cup down, a sorrowful sigh escaping her lips. Quatre felt, not for the first time, the aura of age and sadness that enveloped her. If not written in her appearance, it was certainly written in her eyes.
"Yeah," Duo was saying in response, "Who are you and why have you turned our lives upside down?"
"Have I upset your life anymore than the scientists who turned you into what you are?"
The five blinked, while their blonde guest looked on in blatant curiosity.
"How-"
"How do I know about that?" Setsuna turned to Wufei, who had been the one to ask the doomed question. The smallest of smiles graced her lips, "There is no way that I can explain my knowledge to you that you will believe. I am . . . very old."
"Yes," murmured Quatre from across the way, "I know. You're much older than you appear to be."
"And how the hell do you know that?" Duo exclaimed, settling down again when Wufei glared at him menacingly.
"I just . . . I feel it."
Setsuna nodded.
"You feel much, don't you, Quatre?" Her eyes fell on him, their maroon depths swirling in his vision, and Quatre felt that this woman saw deep into his very soul, "Your empathy is a gift, it tells you more about those around you than you are willing to accept." Then her gaze moved to the girl, Usagi-chan, and Quatre felt the golden-haired one gulp under the pressure of those eyes. Setsuna seemed to be silently telling them that they shared something in this gift . . . that the two of them were alike in this way.
"You were about to explain to us who you are," Hiiro said quietly, never lifting his eyes from his cup. Setsuna glanced to him, that small smile back to dangle at her lips.
"Yes, I was."
"Setsuna-san . . ." spoke the girl for the first time since she first arrived. Her entire slender frame was leaned forward, her eyes filled with apprehension. Whatever it was that Setsuna was going to tell them, Usagi-chan did not seem to feel as confident as the tall woman.
"Daijoubu, Usagi-chan. They have a right to know who I am. After all, I have disrupted the true course of their futures."
"What?" Duo's voice rose a bit in pitch with the force of his incredulity. Quatre was certain that behind him Trowa's gaze had left the falling rain and landed on this mysterious woman. Hiiro certainly looked up from his coffee, and Wufei almost dropped his katana. The claim she was making . . . disrupting their futures . . . it sounded as if she were implying that she had actually known their futures.
Setsuna merely sat there waiting for the five of them to calm before continuing.
"I am a warrior," she began, "one of many who protect this planet. However I have another duty as well. I am the Guardian of Time, my obligation being to safeguard the Gate of Time and observe, ensuring that Time flows naturally. I am . . . not supposed to interfere with anything, no matter how much I am tempted to do so." At this point Setsuna trailed off into silence, staring at the floor. Quatre turned slightly to see Usagi-chan gazing at the taller woman in kind understanding. Had Setsuna once violated this rule to help the girl?
"Setsuna-san . . ." This time Usagi-chan's voice was softer, with an edge of compassion to it that Quatre heard very little in his time. The woman shook her head as if to clear it and waved a hand at the girl.
"No, Usagi-chan, it's not necessary. I know." A smile, then: "However, when I saw what was about to happen to the five of you, I knew that I had to disobey that law once more."
"What was going to happen?" Duo asked with a dark sort of interest, the kind one has when offered the chance to know one's own date of death. If only Quatre knew how close his analogy was to the truth.
"Duo, it . . ." The pause in Setsuna's voice was laced with so much that Quatre could almost hear the words:
Terrible things . . . death . . . murder . . . betrayal . . . too much for your souls to bear I think . . .
"It is not important," were the words that finally spilled from her crimson mouth, "what is important is that I will not allow that future to exist. I have already changed it now, simply by intervening and bringing you here."
"Well, that's it then," Duo jumped up with a large smile, "We can go now, if you've already changed it, then we're all fine and-"
"It's not that simple," Usagi-chan murmured from her perch on Duo's left. She said it with such confidence that Quatre was certain she had been through something like this before.
"Usagi-chan is right," Setsuna said with a frown, "it's not that easy. I've changed your futures, but that does not necessarily mean for the better. My judgement could have been completely wrong. That is why I've brought Usagi-chan here to help you. I . . . there are certain things that I cannot do. . ."
I cannot be with you always, Quatre heard beneath the pauses, I cannot change your minds; I cannot change your hearts. I cannot be the friend that she can be to you . . .
The young boy's eyes widened as he looked from Setsuna to Usagi-chan. Who was this girl that Setsuna had such faith in her? Who was she that this aged creature, this woman who had seen more years than the Earth, trusted the teenager with the fate of five lives? She must have been a goddess.
Selene . . .
Quatre shook his head, not believing that he had come up with such a ridiculous comparison. She could not be the goddess Selene. Not only was this girl achingly mortal, but she also was real, while the goddess was mere myth. Wasn't she?
"What are you babbling on about, Onna?"
"Destiny," Setsuna replied, never skipping a beat at Wufei's arrogant tone, "I'm speaking of destiny, both yours and Usagi-chan's." Her eyes grew hard with a certain sternness that, like her age, had always hung about her like a loose robe that she now pulled about her tightly. What came with it was an air of command that no doubt was a result of seeing the millennia pass like moments. "This is something that must happen, not only for you five, but also for her. Usagi-chan has a great destiny that she has only just begun to understand. There is a price and a responsibility that comes with it . . ." Setsuna trailed into silence once more, this time under a fog of having said much more than she had planned. Quatre saw the lips press together tightly, and knew that they would get no more information from her this day. His eyes moved again to Usagi-chan and saw that she had paled by several shades . . . she was not in a mood to be asked questions, which Duo would no doubt do once Setsuna was gone.
"Well," the boy said quietly as he rose, "Usagi-chan is no doubt very tired from her journey; I believe it would be a nice gesture for you to show her to her room, Wufei."
"Me?" Wufei sniffed, glancing the girl up and down, sizing her up, no doubt coming to the conclusion that she was just another unworthy woman. Quatre sighed inwardly.
"Yes, Wufei, you," he said with just the tiniest hint of impatience behind the words. Wufei grumbled to himself, but rose and motioned for the girl to follow him. Quatre allowed his sigh to pass from him as one of relief.
"Thank you, Quatre," Setsuna said in an echo of the words she spoke before. This time, he could see in her eyes, she was thanking him for much more than just a cup of tea. He nodded to her, a small smile of him own on his lips.
"Is that it?" Duo shrieked, hands flying into the air in an exasperated gesture, "Is that ALL you have to tell us?"
"No," she replied, a bit of steel returning to her tone, "that isn't all. But I'm not prepared to tell you the rest of it yet. Usagi-chan needs to be here to hear it, but she is, as Quatre observed, exhausted." Setsuna rose from her seat, slowly, as if the weight of her duty pressed her downwards even now. "I'll return at a later time to tell you the rest," her eyes closed with her weariness, "Please, PLEASE, behave until then, Duo?" It was a plea, her way of begging.
"Sure," Duo replied cheerfully, "I'll behave. I promise."


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~


Usagi sighed as she followed the black haired one called Wufei. He wasn't very friendly. Not at all. In fact, he seemed to be grumbling grumpily to himself as he led her along. She made a face, and finally her overwhelming sense of having been insulted overcame her fear of saying something stupid.
"If you didn't want to show me to my room, you could fought a little harder."
"What?" the boy turned and glared at her with hard black eyes that made Usagi wonder if she had been wise to speak.
"I said," she began to repeat, forcing the nervous shake from her voice, "that if you didn't want to be my guide, you should have fought harder. I could have found my way by myself." She was rewarded with a derogatory snort from her guide and a roll of his eyes.
"We'd have been searching for you in this place for weeks. It's not that easy to navigate, especially for airheaded teenage girls."
"I'm not the only teenager around here," she exclaimed indignantly, eyeing him pointedly, "How old ARE you anyway?"
"I'm fifteen," he answered, arrogance practically dripping from every word, "No doubt several years older than you." He crossed his arms, obviously prepared for profuse apologies.
That was something he was not going to be getting from Tsukino Usagi.
"I'm sixteen," she said with a particular glee, crossing her own arms, "a year older than you, so HAH!"
"You don't act like it," he mumbled, turning away and continuing on his trek down the hallway. Usagi took this as a personal victory and followed him, skipping happily.
Only a few more moments passed before Wufei stopped, and Usagi nearly slammed into him from behind. Luckily for her, he hadn't noticed her screeching to a halt. The boy motioned to a door and grumbled something that sounded like "Here."
Usagi, in a characteristic display of immaturity, stuck her tongue out at him before opening the door and stepping through.
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.
"It's just like home," she breathed, her gaze travelling from one item to the next. She couldn't believe the accuracy with which her bedroom home in twentieth century Tokyo had been recreated. The sheets, the pajamas that waited for her . . . everything down to the number of stuffed rabbits sitting on her dresser was perfect, down to the last detail of their whiskers. Mr. Floppy even had a tea stain, although this rabbit did look a bit more time worn than the one that sat on her own dresser. In fact, even the dresser was perfect. It even had a sticker of a winged horse stuck to the side, like the one she had stuck there when she was seven years old . . .
It IS mine! She realized with sudden clarity, NeoQueen Serenity must have had this place built! She must have put all of my old furniture here, knowing that I would feel more comfortable if it looked like home.
Tiny tears of gratitude filled her eyes. Serenity may have been her future self, but the woman was much more thoughtful than she had ever been. Usagi felt honored to know that one day she would be that woman.
A sigh from behind her broke into her private reverie.
"You take one look at stuffed rabbits and already you're sobbing. How are you ever supposed to help us with our war?"
"I've seen war," she answered quietly, and by the expression on his face she could tell that her words had taken Wufei by surprise, "Maybe not the same kind of war as you . . . but I've seen war."
"I'm surprised you're still alive, then," he replied, and turned away, leaving Usagi alone in her room.


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~


Wufei scowled as he stalked down the hallway. That girl . . . she was weak, he could tell. She was like all of the other women in that way. They all cried so easily, letting their emotions get in the way of duty, of what they knew had to be done.
Yet . . . when she had uttered those words . . . I've seen war . . . something that rose from the depths of those blue eyes had almost forced him to respect her right then and there. A deep sorrow, a sense of wisdom that shouldn't hang on a girl so young.
No, he thought to himself with a shake of his head, she's only a girl, like any other.


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~


Quatre turned back into the room after Setsuna left, and his eyes rested on those of his fellow pilots who remained. Hiiro still sat in his chair, still staring at his coffee. There was, however, a glint of extra hardness to his gaze that worried Quatre. The stoic pilot was taking Setsuna's words very seriously. Behind the couch, Trowa stood with arms crossed and looked at Quatre, his eyes begging for some sort of guidance. Quatre gazed back helplessly, as unsure of what to do as any of the others. Duo, surprisingly, was sitting on the couch quietly, eyes glazed over with the signs of being lost in thought. What went on in the braided ones head when he was serious like this?
"So," came Wufei's voice from the doorway, "what are we supposed to do now?"
"I don't like this," Hiiro said, finally taking his eyes from his coffee to look towards Quatre, "She's still keeping us in the dark. There's information that she's hiding from us."
"She'll tell us in her own time," Quatre replied, a plea lacing his voice. He trusted Setsuna, and wanted the other pilots to trust her as well. Trowa, Hiiro, and Wufei glared at him, not even the tall, quiet boy seeming to agree with him. "Please, Trowa," he begged, reassured somewhat when Trowa merely sighed and shrugged.
"I say we wait and see."
The four turned to Duo, who had spoken quietly, but it was amazing that he had spoken on this subject at all. He sat there, elbow resting on the couch's armrest, indigo eyes narrow in serious thought. Why, he looks almost . . . like a leader. Quatre blinked at the errant thought, forcing it back into the depths of his mind. Duo, a leader? He would never be able to muster the sobriety for more than a few moments at most.
"But," the braided one chirped on cue, "until then I say we enjoy the company! It'll be nice to have companionship other than your grave faces all the time!" With that he slapped the armrest and pushed himself up, pushing past Wufei as if nothing in the world mattered to him, as if they were not in the middle of a war.
Quatre sighed.


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~


Duo marched down the hallways, braid swinging behind him as he made his way in the direction of the girl's room. He knew it was down here somewhere . . .
Ah, yes, there.
He stopped before the plain door, fist raised in preparation to knock. But he didn't. Instead he stood there, indulging in his short memories of her sun-gold hair and iridescent blue eyes. From the moment he had calmed enough to look into the face of the person he had slammed into, Duo had not been able to look away from her, or keep the vision of her celestial countenance from his mind. She was an absolute angel, why couldn't the others see that? One would think that even stern Wufei or stoic Hiiro would have noticed her.
I'd have killed them if they did . . .
Duo blinked, surprised at his own vehemence. Where had that come from? He hadn't known this girl more than five minutes, and had spoken only a word or two of apology to her. She had, and rightfully so, not uttered a single word of reply to him. She had been too busy dusting off her skirt and shirt.
He took a deep breath and steeled himself to knock once more when his eyes caught a glimpse of color under the grime that marked the door. Curiosity momentarily overriding his desire to see her again, Duo leaned forward and brushed away the dirt with one hand. After a few swipes he began to uncover the bright pink of very old painted lettering. It had been painted by an expert hand, and the letters were in ornately curly-qed cursive. Only one word graced that door.
Usagi.
It seemed that Usagi-chan's destiny truly did lead here. Otherwise her name would not have been scrawled on the door when the building was first built, so many years ago. Duo smiled, for some reason relieved greatly that Setsuna had not made a mistake in bringing the girl here.
The door swung open suddenly.
Duo, hand still raised, was caught standing out in the hallway, mouth open dumbly. The girl stood just inside, hand still on the inside doorknob, one golden eyebrow raised.
"Hai?" she asked him, "Can I help you?"
"I . . . uh . . . well . . ." he stopped. She still stared at him expectantly, her free hand resting on a hip. Duo realized that he must look very stupid. There was nothing to be done about it now, however, and the boy stood there silently, blinking.
"Well, since you seem to have nothing better to do, would you mind showing me to the kitchen? I'm STARVING!" The words cut through the air and slapped Duo, waking him from his trance. Something about the idea of eating appealed to him at that moment . . . as opposed to any moments where it didn't, and the boy immediately grinned ear-to-ear.
"Sure! Follow me!"
Duo swung about, flinging a quick motion at her to follow and started down the hallway. It wasn't very long before he was babbling on about something so completely inane that it isn't even worth mentioning. However, his babblings ceased when he felt a tug at his braid. He stopped and spun to gaze on the girl with narrowed eyes. She stood with her hands behind her back, the most innocent of expressions on her angelic face. He glared at her a few seconds longer before turning around and hesitantly continuing his walk. A moment or so passed in silence when he again felt the tug, a bit harder. This time when he turned he caught Usagi-chan with the tip of his braid in her hands, playing with it like a five year old child.
"Ahem," he cleared his throat and was rewarded when her head jerked upwards. She knew she was caught red-handed. He expected an apology, but got something completely different.
"How come your hair is so long?"
"What?!?"
"The only other guy I've ever known who had such long hair was Fish-Eye," she paused, and then added, "but he dressed like a girl a lot anyway . . ."
"Huh? Who's Fish-Eye? What kind of name is that? And why my hair is so long is none of your business anyway!"
"Gomen," she said, never releasing his braid as her hands flew about in the air, gesturing wildly, "but it was just a simple question. I'm allowed to ask questions you know. And it's not THAT much of a personal question, it's only about your hair! But I can understand if you find your hair very important to you. I know several people back home who would die if anything happen to their hair, but most of them are girls-"
"My hair," he growled, snatching his braid back from her possession, "is none. Of. Your. Business." He emphasized each word so that she would not miss his point.
"Okay," she said quietly, subdued by his evident anger, the poor girl not understanding why this was such a sensitive subject. Duo stood there a moment and finally decided that an apology from him was unnecessary. SHE was the one who needed to apologize. Yes. Definitely her.
Once more headed in the direction of the kitchen, silence following behind him like a heavy shadow, Duo considered telling her everything about Father Maxwell and Sister Helen. If he told her about his life as an orphan, then his part in the deaths of those two kind-hearted individuals, what would she say? Would those blue eyes turn from him in shock and shame? He didn't want to find out.
"I'm sorry," he offered through a cough, his fist balled before his mouth. He stopped at the entrance to the kitchen and waited for her to catch up. "I shouldn't have . . . I mean, it's really nothing . . . there are just certain things-"
"It's okay," he heard her say, and her voice was devoid of any anger or hurt. He looked up and into her face. She was smiling at him. He knew that his outburst, seemingly from nowhere, had hurt her feelings, but she didn't show it. She merely smiled. "You don't have to explain. We all have things that we don't want to talk about."
"Not you," he heard himself say before he could stop himself, "I can't imagine anything you could have done that you wouldn't want to talk about."
Usagi-chan gave a small smile, a gift that Duo treasured in his deepest heart, unknowingly. But the smile had such a tinge of sorrow to it that he felt something catch in his chest, an urge to hug her in assurance that everything would be alright.
Stop it! You're being stupid!
"I have my share of things I've done, both recent and . . . very old . . . that I'm not proud of. One day, if we become friends like Setsuna-san wants, maybe I'll tell you about some of them." With that said she turned and walked through the kitchen door, leaving Duo standing in the hallway alone.
I'd be happy to listen . . . if only to hear your voice.


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~


Quatre stood just outside the hallway. He hadn't meant to overhear the conversation between Duo and Usagi-chan, but on his way to the kitchen it had been inevitable.
I have my share of things I've done, both recent and . . . very old . . .
"The suicide . . ." the boy murmured to himself. He was quite certain now that this girl and the princess from his dream were one and the same. The facts just didn't make sense, though. If she had committed suicide, how could she be standing her now, not only much younger than his dream princess, but also with a different hair color all together. The blonde was not the product of dye. It was too much like spun gold, too much a natural blonde to be dye. But the princess's hair had been moonlight silver.
He shook his head, not understanding what he was supposed to do about this. Even if the two were the same, of what importance could that possibly be to them?
A sound behind him caused Quatre to turn and look up into the questioning face of Trowa. He opened his mouth, then caught himself before letting the words tumble from his lips. If he wasn't sure, then it wouldn't do Trowa any good to worry about it as well. The tall boy had enough to worry about as it was, with lost memories and all. Quatre shrugged and gave a gentle smile.
"I think Duo has a crush on our guest."
"Ah," Trowa replied in his usual brief manner. A glint from his one visible emerald eye made Quatre think that perhaps the circus boy wasn't completely convinced his gentle companion was telling the entire truth. He didn't wait around for a longer explanation, though, assuming that there must be a reason for Quatre's resistance to share his true thoughts. Instead Trowa merely turned and returned to the living room, where Hiiro and Wufei were still discussing what must be done about the mysterious and non-talkative Setsuna. Quatre followed him. Listening to the end of the conversation, the two seemed to have decided that the woman would share all of her knowledge the next time she appeared, or else.
"I hope you two are certain that you would be doing the right thing." Quatre peered at them hesitantly.
"We are," Hiiro replied, eyes steely, "It's right. If she doesn't tell us her entire plan, we will kill her."
Quatre stared at Hiiro, and then at the nodding Wufei and Trowa.
What are we? He wondered incredulously, What are we that killing has become the answer to all of our problems?

End Chapter Six.