Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ It Doesn't Concern Me ❯ It Doesn't Concern Me ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Hara-Kiri_Sama 
Heero's thoughts on the deaths of two of his fellow pilots. Probably OOC as this is my first time working with Heero.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 04.04.2005 | Updated On: 04.04.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 517 | Status: Completed
Heero's thoughts on the deaths of two of his fellow pilots. Probably OOC as this is my first time working with Heero.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 04.04.2005 | Updated On: 04.04.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 517 | Status: Completed
Title: It Doesn't Concern Me
Author: Hara-Kiri Sama
Rating: PG-13 for death and language
Category: Angst
Pairings: Mention of 3+4, tiny little wisp of a hope for 1+2 if you're really keen on looking for that type of thing.
Warnings: Death! Suicide! New author!
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. I had never even seen it until like a week ago. Har.
Summary: Heero learns about the deaths of two friends.
Authors notes: Yo. This is my first Gundam Wing story ever, and I'm not quite sure if I'm really as familiar with the characters as I feel like I am, so you'll have to forgive me. Also, this is a deathfic with angst and junk, so forgive me for that too if that really isn't your bowl of rice. ...Be gentle (bites knuckles) Oh and PS: The title is stupid, but it's the only thing I could think of that sums up what Heero is trying to tell himself. ...This is Heero POV if you really couldn't figure that out. Pfftt.
The words resonate through my mind, as if they had been an explosion, rather than four simple words Wufei quietly spoke to me over the videophone.
"Duo and Quatre are dead."
The simple sentence brought a strange, tightened feeling to my stomach I was unfamiliar with. I didn't let it show. I kept my usual solid expression, and my usual deadpan as I inquired about the situation. I would never let my emotions get involved with the facts. Especially not with Wufei able to see me.
He told me the entire thing in as few words as possible. Perhaps he didn't care. Perhaps he was doing the exact same thing I was...hiding the cramping feeling in the pit of his stomach because he doesn't want me to think he is weak for caring. It doesn't really matter to me at this point.
He said that Duo had been staying with Quatre for a few days out of convenience, while he took care of some business on L4. Duo hadn't been himself...that is, he hadn't been the cheerful, idiotic Duo we all knew. I'm pretty sure that however he had been acting the last few days had been the real Duo, and not some false facade he wore out of social niceties. I know this, because on more than one occasion while I had been stuck at a safehouse with him, when he didn't know I was watching I'd catch him letting go of a long sigh that seemed as if he had been holding it in for days, or even weeks. Simple, yes, but not insignificant. Wufei went on about how Quatre felt Duo's pain due to his damned space heart. This weakened him considerably, seeing as he was already rather frail, having just barely recovered from a mission gone awry a couple of weeks ago. But then Duo had to go and prove himself true to my name for him. Baka. The biggest that ever lived. The bastard shot himself. Right in the head.
Baka.
With Quatre able to feel the emotional state Duo had been in, it didn't really surprise me that he had gotten worse after Duo killed himself, since he had most likely not gone peacefully. However, it did surprise me that half an hour after the suicide, Quatre was pronounced dead, the doctors only able to classify it as some type of heart attack for lack of a better term. Needless to say, Trowa had not taken this news very well. In fact, I have no doubt in my mind that if he hadn't been on a mission with Wufei, who was able to talk some sense into him, we'd be going to three funerals rather than two. Thinking about Trowa losing Quatre makes that pit in my stomach tighten even more. It's starting to get tight in my chest as well. I don't know why I care about it.
Baka. Stupid, fucking baka. I wonder if he even stopped to think about whether or not his suicide would affect Quatre that way. Trowa. Me. I wish I had been there, to talk some sense into him last night. Hn. I'd probably have pistol whipped some sense into him instead. Not that he didn't deserve it.
I tell Wufei that I'll be there for the funerals, because they were fellow pilots and I should give my final repects. After the transmission ends, and Wufei can no longer see me, I turn to find a day or two's worth of clothes to bring with me to the colonies. I try to busy myself with packing my essentials, but I am bothered by the burning in my throat. I hate it. It is unfamiliar, and it is making it difficult for me to breathe. The breaths I am able to get past the abhorred lump come out short and uneven. No. I can't. I must not... I tell myself over and over...swallowing, taking deep breaths, anything to make it stop. I concentrate on the white dress shirt I hold in my hands. I try to push Duo out of my mind. I don't care about that idiot. I'll be glad for the peace and quiet from now on. I don't care about Trowa losing Quatre. That has nothing to do with me.
There is no one here to see you.
I don't care. I don't. I mustn't.
Nobody will know if you cry.
I'll know.
Nobody is here. No one will ever know.
No...
I am overcome with a sickening feeling. I blink, and feel a bit of wetness in my eyelashes. I look down and see a tiny drop of water soaking through the material of the shirt I am holding. My head is beginning to ache.
Go on.
No.
"No."
I swallow dryly and ignore the moisture in my eyes, making them sticky for a few moments before it evaporates.
I need to finish packing if I'm going to make it to the shuttle on time.
The end!
More author's notes: Blaerg. It blows, but give me a break, we've all got to start somewhere. :D
Converting /tmp/phpa64qEq to /dev/stdout
Author: Hara-Kiri Sama
Rating: PG-13 for death and language
Category: Angst
Pairings: Mention of 3+4, tiny little wisp of a hope for 1+2 if you're really keen on looking for that type of thing.
Warnings: Death! Suicide! New author!
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. I had never even seen it until like a week ago. Har.
Summary: Heero learns about the deaths of two friends.
Authors notes: Yo. This is my first Gundam Wing story ever, and I'm not quite sure if I'm really as familiar with the characters as I feel like I am, so you'll have to forgive me. Also, this is a deathfic with angst and junk, so forgive me for that too if that really isn't your bowl of rice. ...Be gentle (bites knuckles) Oh and PS: The title is stupid, but it's the only thing I could think of that sums up what Heero is trying to tell himself. ...This is Heero POV if you really couldn't figure that out. Pfftt.
The words resonate through my mind, as if they had been an explosion, rather than four simple words Wufei quietly spoke to me over the videophone.
"Duo and Quatre are dead."
The simple sentence brought a strange, tightened feeling to my stomach I was unfamiliar with. I didn't let it show. I kept my usual solid expression, and my usual deadpan as I inquired about the situation. I would never let my emotions get involved with the facts. Especially not with Wufei able to see me.
He told me the entire thing in as few words as possible. Perhaps he didn't care. Perhaps he was doing the exact same thing I was...hiding the cramping feeling in the pit of his stomach because he doesn't want me to think he is weak for caring. It doesn't really matter to me at this point.
He said that Duo had been staying with Quatre for a few days out of convenience, while he took care of some business on L4. Duo hadn't been himself...that is, he hadn't been the cheerful, idiotic Duo we all knew. I'm pretty sure that however he had been acting the last few days had been the real Duo, and not some false facade he wore out of social niceties. I know this, because on more than one occasion while I had been stuck at a safehouse with him, when he didn't know I was watching I'd catch him letting go of a long sigh that seemed as if he had been holding it in for days, or even weeks. Simple, yes, but not insignificant. Wufei went on about how Quatre felt Duo's pain due to his damned space heart. This weakened him considerably, seeing as he was already rather frail, having just barely recovered from a mission gone awry a couple of weeks ago. But then Duo had to go and prove himself true to my name for him. Baka. The biggest that ever lived. The bastard shot himself. Right in the head.
Baka.
With Quatre able to feel the emotional state Duo had been in, it didn't really surprise me that he had gotten worse after Duo killed himself, since he had most likely not gone peacefully. However, it did surprise me that half an hour after the suicide, Quatre was pronounced dead, the doctors only able to classify it as some type of heart attack for lack of a better term. Needless to say, Trowa had not taken this news very well. In fact, I have no doubt in my mind that if he hadn't been on a mission with Wufei, who was able to talk some sense into him, we'd be going to three funerals rather than two. Thinking about Trowa losing Quatre makes that pit in my stomach tighten even more. It's starting to get tight in my chest as well. I don't know why I care about it.
Baka. Stupid, fucking baka. I wonder if he even stopped to think about whether or not his suicide would affect Quatre that way. Trowa. Me. I wish I had been there, to talk some sense into him last night. Hn. I'd probably have pistol whipped some sense into him instead. Not that he didn't deserve it.
I tell Wufei that I'll be there for the funerals, because they were fellow pilots and I should give my final repects. After the transmission ends, and Wufei can no longer see me, I turn to find a day or two's worth of clothes to bring with me to the colonies. I try to busy myself with packing my essentials, but I am bothered by the burning in my throat. I hate it. It is unfamiliar, and it is making it difficult for me to breathe. The breaths I am able to get past the abhorred lump come out short and uneven. No. I can't. I must not... I tell myself over and over...swallowing, taking deep breaths, anything to make it stop. I concentrate on the white dress shirt I hold in my hands. I try to push Duo out of my mind. I don't care about that idiot. I'll be glad for the peace and quiet from now on. I don't care about Trowa losing Quatre. That has nothing to do with me.
There is no one here to see you.
I don't care. I don't. I mustn't.
Nobody will know if you cry.
I'll know.
Nobody is here. No one will ever know.
No...
I am overcome with a sickening feeling. I blink, and feel a bit of wetness in my eyelashes. I look down and see a tiny drop of water soaking through the material of the shirt I am holding. My head is beginning to ache.
Go on.
No.
"No."
I swallow dryly and ignore the moisture in my eyes, making them sticky for a few moments before it evaporates.
I need to finish packing if I'm going to make it to the shuttle on time.
The end!
More author's notes: Blaerg. It blows, but give me a break, we've all got to start somewhere. :D
Converting /tmp/phpa64qEq to /dev/stdout