Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Eternal Series ❯ Eternal is the Monster ( Chapter 3 )

Warnings: Duo overuses the F--- word quite a bit, so if that offends you parts of this you might want to skim, or something.

Eternal Is The Monster

You look tired. I think I am the only one here who sees it, the slightest shuffle to your step, the smallest narrowing of your eyes, the sluggish response time, and despite that it still makes you faster than the normal person. Normal even out of your kind, human kind. You shift again, wiping a light sheen of sweat off of your forehead, and rest your hands on your knees, bent at the waist. Your breath is slow and even, but I catch the barest hitches as your lungs struggle to supply your body with enough oxygen to continue to fuel your activities.

I catch the ball, only barely aware of my movements, eyes sliding over you even as I scout out the best choice to throw my prize to. There, to your left, I toss it, careful to regulate the force I put into the action. I can feel your eyes on me as I pivot and turn my attention back to the actual game, noting with inward satisfaction that I had been keeping up with everyone's positions based solely on heartbeat and breathing patterns.

This is why I'm the God of Death. This is why I am Shinigami.

You jog past me, feet slapping hard against the basketball court, mixing and adding to the music of movement and sound and emotion, as you join the active part of the game, intercepting the ball and sending it through the basket with a soft whoosh. I take several steps back, waiting for the game to begin again, and it all moves past me in a blur I know all too well.

Time is so deceiving now, coming and going in short bursts, dragging with it hours and then bringing those hours back and placing them into other hours, elongating, condensing, without a thought of how it affects the rest of the world. That's how I found myself shooting baskets alone with you after what only seemed like minutes. The game, each event, each second, each breath and heartbeat, I slid through it, but in my memory it is all pressed together now, to allow me to draw out the time after.

And then, moving fluidly through memory, and I find myself laying back on my bed, listening to the shower run in the private bathroom, your breath coming evenly, the water dancing over tile and flesh, blending and mixing with your heartbeat. I love the sounds of mortality. The soft rumbles and murmurs of flesh and hot pumping blood bodies, the constant whisper of skin against skin against cloth against cloth against some object or another. It's seductive.

The door opens, steams billows out, touching my skin lightly and warming my cool body. Within the distortion of water vapor I can still make you out perfectly, the water droplets beading your skin, the damp hair clinging reverently to your forehead. Oh, but you're so untouchable, face impassive, eyes shielded, no one's for the taking.

But I've taken you, haven't I?

A wistful smile touches my lips as you bring a hand up to rub at your neck subconsciously. A week has passed, any mark which may have lingered on your throat has long since faded, and yet I find you often touching your throat, disconnected from the present, fingertips moving over soft and giving skin. What do you feel there, I long to ask you. You slept like a babe in my arms that night, so what draws your touch back to that sweet spot, what has captivated you since that night that you wonderingly touch your throat?

And then your hand drops and your eyes flicker to me, questioning for a brief second, and the breath I've pulled into my lungs sits idly there until you've resumed normal activity.

I'm left to wonder how you can manage to unnerve me to such an extent. Do you even realize the effect that you have on me? I don't think you do. But then, I catch these bursts of emotion in your eyes, the slightest upturn of a smile at the corners of your mouth, the subtle shift of your facial features, and I wonder.

You seat yourself at the desk, fingers moving over the laptop, and the clicking of the keys and your even breathing, the steady heartbeat lulls me into an almost sleep. I don't even realize when you've stopped, not immediately, but my attention comes back around as you approach the bed.

Letting my eyes slit just enough to see you through a film of black lashes I watch you study my face, no real expression on your face. You've put on boxers and a T-shirt, although the shirt clings a bit to your chest, and I let out a slow sigh, unable to stop the murmur from passing by my lips.

Beautiful. Do you even know? Sometimes I think you might, but other times I'm certain you would completely disagree. You would say, how could I be beautiful, I am a monster, who kills and takes and uses? But that is why you are beautiful. Relena sees it, that animal beauty, like a beast, pacing back and forth in a cage, so beautiful and mesmerizing to look at, but underneath that there is a killer.

Slowly you rake your fingers back through your hair, but it does nothing to your wild locks, and then you lower yourself to sit at the edge of my bed.

"Why?" Such a soft whisper, I wonder if I even hear it. Are you talking to me? Or to yourself?

"Why, Duo?" You pause, reaching out to touch my face, but your hand falters above my chest, and slowly you lower your hand to rest over my heart. "Hm, Duo? Why did you do it?"

I decide to take a chance. "Why did I do what, Heero?"

"Why did you… that one night?"

"Why did I join you?" I ask softly, letting my eyes half open. Surely you're not talking about…

You shake your head, and then give a half nod, a ghost of a smile touching your lips. "Never mind."

"Okay Heero."

"I'm going to get some sleep. Rest well, Duo."

I nod. You move away, over to your own bed, where you push the covers back and crawl in. Settling on your back you turn the lamp out, and then fold your hands behind your head, and I give you a moment before I roll over slightly to study you in the weak moonlight, a habit I've developed somewhere along the line. Nothing really changes in the way you lay, but somehow I get the impression that you've closed yourself off to me, to everything around you.

"Duo, mind talking?"

"Never."

"They call me the Perfect Soldier."

I'm silent until I realize you want some sort of response to that. "Hai, they do."

"It's not entirely true. There are some things that I do well, though."

"I'm sure there are, Heero. I've seen you in action."

"I'm perceptive. Then again, you have to be, to be a Gundam pilot."

"I would think."

"I have a question for you."

"Go ahead."

"What are you?"

"Hm?"

"What are you?" you repeat, slowly, evenly. It's that same mechanical tone you've been speaking in, giving me no clues as to your thoughts, leaving no subtle taste of emotion in the air.

"I'm a Gundam pilot," I tell you softly. You're silent, and I continue. "Apparently I'm also a braided baka."

"You are that. Nothing else?"

"American… Come on Heero, what do you want from me? I'm a lot of things."

"I've watched you, I've seen you do things that shouldn't be possible."

"I've seen you do things that aren't possible either, Heero. Seems to be a common trait with us pilots."

"Even for one of us I've seen you do things that aren't normal. I've never known anyone who can hold their breath as long as you, or who can slip in and slip out of a place like you're made of air. I've seen you… drink blood." You stop and oh so casually slide your hands out from under your head and fold them over your abdomen. I'm not sure I even hear your next words; they're so soft, unsure. "Almost like a vampire."

"Oh?" I sit up slowly, straining toward you with all my senses, searching for some clue where you're going with this, what I should say next. I find nothing, not even the slightest catch in your breath, as you continue on as if it's the most ordinary conversation we've ever had.

"Yes, I've seen you drink blood. After that last mission, I followed you because you seemed very out of sorts and I wanted to make sure you wouldn't do something stupid. Can you guess what I saw?"

"N-No." But I can, and I'm filled with horror at the thought. You carry on, everything from your body language to your breathing screaming out total control. We could be discussing mathematics for all the reaction you're giving me.

"You had some young boy in your arms and I wondered what you were doing, leaning over him, and he was making soft noises, like a gurgling hum. It reminded me of someone drowning in their own blood."

Your hands draw together, fingers interlacing.

"You pulled back and I'd know the smell of blood anywhere. You were panting, and something dripped down your chin. I know a dead body when I see it, and the kid was dead before you lowered him to the ground. I think I closed my eyes; I had to have, because you suddenly weren't there anymore. I checked the body, didn't find a wound but there wasn't any blood in him, a little on his shirt.

"My conclusion, you were drinking blood. If you ask me, that's pretty unfuckingnormal, wouldn't you say?"

I stare wide eyed at you as you roll over onto your side, back facing me, and settle into the pillow as if that's the end of it. I'm drawn to you in your silence, in your utter stillness, and find myself leaning forward, waiting for another word, another movement, anything to signal you're going to continue. Your breathing is so even and steady I would think you asleep except I know you better.

"Heero-."

"I have a math test tomorrow, Duo. At least pretend to sleep so that I can."

__________

I know I've claimed to be patient before, but there's just something about you that demands immediate action from me sometimes. It's hard to believe you haven't realized this before, being so observant as you say, but you obviously haven't or you would have realized whatever game you were playing last night would only make me act. The surprise on your face as I grab a fistful of your shirt and pull you back into the shadowed recess of an empty classroom only confirms the suspicion that had formed some time deep in the night that you're not all as smart you appear.

"What the-?"

I slam you back against the wall and the force takes the air from your lungs, effectively silencing whatever it was you were about to say. Slowly I release your shirt, and it hangs oddly where I had gripped it, material stretched, threads broken. This worries me, as did the sound of plaster cracking when your back met the wall does, because it means I'm losing control. But I can't say I'm surprised, when things involve you and my emotions I'm more reactive than is wise; and I can't say that I care right now.

"You just came from math class?"

"…Yes."

"That means your fucking math test is over. That means you're going to fucking explain last night to me. Right?"

"Well-."

"Ah. Well makes me think it's going to be followed with a negative answer. I don't want a fucking negative answer. I don't care where the hell you think you've got to go, because I'm telling you that you are staying right here, and you are answering my goddamn question. Do you understand?"

"Duo-."

You break off abruptly as I strike the wall on either side of your head with my palms and lean in close, shaking my head slightly. "Just say yes," I whisper.

"Yes."

You glance over to the wall and your eyes widen slightly, so I follow your gaze and see I hadn't been paying attention to my reactions and all around my hands cracks have formed in the wall. I can feel the nervous energy seep from you, and like the wall your mask is cracking and when I look back to you I can see a range of emotions moving over your face.

"What the fuck are you?" you breathe.

"What do you mean, what the fuck am I? You seemed to know last night. You seemed pretty fucking confidant in what you knew last night."

"But I… I didn't honestly… I know what I said, but… what I said is impossible…"

"Impossible, eh?" I ask softly, drawing my hands back and folding my arms over my chest. "If it was so impossible, if you didn't honestly believe it, why would you even ask?"

"Because I have this picture burned into my mind, and it's there every time I close my eyes, of you standing over a dead body, blood dripping off your chin, and I don't know why. That's why I asked, because I had to know, because there has to be some explanation, any explanation that makes more sense than… than…"

"Than what, Heero?"

"Than your being…"

"A monster? Is that the word you're looking for?"

You manage a half nod, and while being prepared for that answer, knowing you could think nothing else, it still hurts in a way I thought I could no longer hurt, in a way I thought I had been numbed to long before I even met you.

Clearing my throat I give you a tight smile and half shrug. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry to disappoint you Heero, but it's not impossible because here I am, standing right in front of you. But don't worry, I'm leaving now and you can go to your next class, and put me from your mind, and I won't be bothering you again."

I turn away only to be surprised by your gripping my arm and I look down just as you seem to realize what you've done and let go. My eyes dart up quick enough to catch the half panic in your eyes, and an odd kind of surprise, followed quickly by some inner anger, but no disgust at the touch. It intrigues me and I turn fully, lifting my head to look at you as you pull yourself up straight and try your best to put your mask back in place.

"What do you mean your leaving? You can't just leave."

"Why?"

"Because… of the mission."

I snort. "The mission? You can reach me easy enough if a mission comes up, if you need a monster like me to help you."

You wince at that.

I play absently with the tip of my right canine as I regard you. "I can see through your lies like glass, Heero."

Another wave of emotion comes off of you, not quite fear, not quite panic, something in the middle. Your eyes widen slightly and you draw yourself up, and I can see the signs that you're either going to lay everything out for me to see, or you're going to retreat further into yourself. I'd say it's the second.

"Then you know I don't believe you're a monster."

"But you do, I'm just a monster you can accept," I whisper.

You look away from me, to the far wall, or perhaps out the half covered windows to the green lawns below. "Aren't we all monsters," you say after a moment, so softly if I were anything else I might not hear it. Maybe, I think, but I don't say it. I don't have to though. The silence between us is once again companionable, so I feel easy letting it settle over us, no longer feeling the need to chatter over it, to drown it out. After a moment a bell chimes somewhere and you look upward.

"Best get moving to class, Yuy. You don't want to be late."

You nod and I toss you a fanged smile, enjoying the flash of surprise on your face before I leave the room, gone before you even realize I moved to leave.