Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Kaifuku ❯ Chapter 6

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Status: Betaed by Avatar-chik.

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Kaifuku

Ch. .6.

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Days passed. Hiiro spent most of his time up on deck, sitting at the stern and watching the landscape change. Ireland was beautiful, abundant with green hills and endless meadows. Once in a while they sailed past ancient ruins, which truly mesmerized him. There was something about watching ruins from the past that made him feel as though there was something bigger, more profound about life that he simply couldn't grasp.

Each morning Nicolai allowed Hiiro to navigate the boat for a few hours. It didn't feel like the man was taking advantage of him, so he didn't mind. He knew that all Nicolai wanted was to make him feel useful. Hiiro even volunteered to wash the dishes after each meal, just so he could do something to pass the time.

He took things slowly, allowing his body and mind to heal and adjust to the new lifestyle. He used the peaceful time on the boat to train his mind in simple tasks. Even washing the dishes proved useful to his faltering motor skills.

Nicolai also bought him crossword puzzles, 'to help you keep your mind sharp', so he had said. During the afternoon hours Hiiro would lie on the boat's rooftop, leaning against the windshield, and solve as many puzzles he could. In time, he improved and solving the crosswords became easier.

Whenever they moored at one town or another, Nicolai asked Hiiro to join him while he went shopping. Hiiro constantly refused the offer. He didn't feel ready to step off the boat. Also, he could never help but think that Nicolai's offer was only so he could be certain that he wouldn't run away again. The man seemed very pleased each time he returned to the boat and Hiiro was still there. He had a few opportunities to break free, but he never took them. He didn't feel ready for it. He was afraid that he'd end up wandering aimlessly and lose his sanity in the process. He needed more time to get some control over his brain. The Sparks still bothered him from time to time, but he was learning how to restrain them.

It wasn't their fault that they acted so chaotically. They were merely trying to find a way around the clutter left in his mind after Zero crashed. He didn't blame them for trying to rebuild what was left of his mind, but he still needed to keep them in check so they wouldn't run amok in the process.

Whenever they did go into a frenzy, they bumped into memories that made his knees weak. Each time that happened, he fought with his entire being against the haze that threatened to overpower him.

Sometimes he failed and fell into a trance. Each time he came out of it, Nicolai was by his side. Whether he'd been walking down the street in his pajamas in the middle of the night or was about to jump off the boat in the middle of a lake, Nicolai was there to keep an eye on him. The man never said anything when Hiiro returned to his senses and simply went on as if nothing had happened. Hiiro appreciated that.

As days formed into a week and beyond, Hiiro became used to the routine of living on the boat, and even found it somewhat reassuring. Despite that, he kept an eye on Nicolai, making sure the man wasn't scheming behind his back. He eavesdropped on the man when he made his late night calls, when he was certain that Hiiro was asleep.

Although, other than their location and what he made for dinner that night, Nicolai didn't seem to be giving any important information. Once in a while he mentioned what Hiiro had done that day, such as learn how to fish or finally read one of the books he had bought for him. Hiiro didn't understand the point behind reporting such trivial things. Perhaps Nicolai knew he was being listened to and used some sort of code language. It didn't sound much like it, but it was still a possibility.

On one of the many cloudy days during their trip, the two moored at yet another small town along the river. Nicolai had left first thing in the morning to shop for supplies and Hiiro, as usual, remained on board.

Blue patches of clear skies appeared as the clouds gradually cleared. Soft rays of sunlight kissed the ground, playing games of light and shadow across the River Shannon. Swans flapped their wings above the water, announcing the sunlight. Hiiro raised his head from the book to watch a row of white swans swim by the boat, and then returned to reading. He enjoyed the serenity, for once in his life, he was able to do just that.

The air was chilly, but not unpleasant. Wearing a simple black sweat suit and a pair of white socks, Hiiro sat on the rooftop, reading a short mystery novel. Soft wind toyed with his brown hair, sometimes obscuring his vision. The port was quiet, with only a few boats mooring next to them; most had left early in the morning. With time, Hiiro learned to recognize some of the boats that traveled along the same route as they were.

So caught up in his reading, Hiiro didn't notice a teenage girl who walked across the pier and towards the boat. Only when she came to stand in front of the vessel and cleared her throat, Hiiro looked up.

"Pardon me," the girl said, her voice carrying a light accent which he recognized as Russian. Her long blond hair and Slavic features also supported his assumption. She smiled at him sheepishly, playing with a thick strand of her long blond hair.

"Can you help me please?" the girl continued once she had his attention, "My uncle asked me to fill the water container while he's away, but I have no clue how it's to be completed."

Hiiro looked down at the girl, trying to sort out her broken English. When he noted the expectant look in her eyes, he frowned. Out of all the people and out of all the boats, she had to come to him?

"I'm sorry for troubling," the girl continued guiltily, still playing with her hair, "But you're the only one accessible..."

Hiiro looked around the port and noted a few more people sitting at the sterns of their boats. He looked back at the girl, who was looking at him keenly. She reminded him of how clingy Relena had been when he had first met her. What was it with girls his age? Will they always be around him like that? Wasn't his antisocial attitude enough to keep them away?

Sighing, he snapped the book shut.

"Sure," he finally said, and jumped off the roof and onto the stern.

"Oh, spasiba! I mean, thank you!" The girl laughed, and threw her hair back. "My uncle will become so pleased also!"

"No problem," Hiiro muttered and jumped onto the pier. Having no shoes, he stood on the slick pier wearing only white socks.

"Which one is your boat?" He asked the girl.

"Over there." She pointed at one of the boats mooring at the parallel pier. She then turned to him with a bright smile. "I'm Anya, pleased to be meeting you."

He nodded in acknowledgement, considering whether or not to give her his name. Deciding that she wasn't a threat, he said, "Hiiro."

The girl's smile grew even brighter and he fought the urge to cringe. Girls - they were beyond him.

Anya led him to her boat and he followed silently. He asked for the hose that connected the water tank to the port's water system, and she handed it to him, smiling. The task was quite simple; he wondered why she didn't even try to refill it by herself.

He worked silently, screwing the hose to both ends and then opened the valve to let the water in. The girl stood next to him the whole time, watching him like a hawk. He felt very self conscious about being watched and waited anxiously for the tank to refill.

"It's done," he said dryly and handed her back the hose.

"Oh spasiba! Very very much!"

Hiiro nodded his response, and then pretended to be looking around, indicating that he was ready to leave.

"I guess I'll be seeing more of you," Anya said and offered her hand in a friendly handshake, "Dasvidania, Hiiro."

He stared at her hand for a moment and then shook it. Without a word, he turned back to Nicolai's boat. He could feel the girl's eyes on his back the whole time, and he couldn't help but feel disturbed by it.

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Two days later, while mooring at a different town, Hiiro noticed that the girl's boat was mooring next to theirs. When he thought back, he recalled that her boat had been following them for quite some time. Then again, he often saw many of the same boats dock at the ports Nicolai and he reached.

Dismissing any paranoid thoughts, Hiiro returned to the book he was reading. He was sitting on the rooftop again, enjoying the sunshine. The day was a particularly sunny one, pleasant and warm. A soft breeze played with his hair, and pushed his long bangs into his eyes while he read. He shoved them aside with annoyance - he needed a haircut - and tried to concentrate on reading.

Nicolai went shopping as he did every morning. After the incident with Anya, when he had to step onto the pier with no shoes on, Hiiro finally asked the man to purchase him a pair. Nicolai seemed very pleased at his request, and left the boat smiling.

Hiiro was grateful for the quiet time he had while the man wasn't onboard. It wasn't that Nicolai bothered him intentionally, but when the man was around Hiiro always felt compelled to acknowledge him somehow. He simply wanted some time alone, without having to please anyone.

"Good morning," a friendly voice called from the pier below. Hiiro looked over his book and saw Anya standing by the boat, smiling at him. He hid his irritation, and nodded a polite 'hello'.

"You are Hiiro, correct?" she asked innocently, and he wondered why she bothered confirming only two days after they first met. Was she senile or something? She could join the club, because he often felt the same.

"Yes," he muttered and returned his gaze to the book.

"My uncle wants to ask you an inquiry, is that well with you?"

Hiiro scowled, and put the book down again. He looked at the girl, "Your uncle?" he echoed, a wary look in his eyes.

The girl smiled sweetly and nodded her head. "Da, yes, uncle."

He was about to say something more, but then the boat rocked abruptly, as if someone boarded it hastily. Hiiro whirled around to see who it was - and a punch connected straight into his face.

He recoiled, dropping the book. It fell off the roof and onto the stern.

Someone grabbed him hard by the arms, and yanked him forward.

He was thrown violently onto the stern floor.

"Are you Zero One?!" A man shouted with a heavy Russian accent.

Dazed, Hiiro blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his vision and make something out of the blurry figure towering over him.

"Are you Gundam pilot Zero One?!" The voice demanded again, while powerful arms shook him roughly.

"NO!" Hiiro shouted, his body being rattled so hard that his teeth connected painfully. "You have the wro—"

Another fist flew into his jaw and split his lips. Tasting blood, he took a sharp breath to ease the pain. All the while the man clawed at his arms, holding him tightly to deny movement.

"YOU LIE!" The Russian man insisted and spat in Hiiro's face.

Hiiro blinked the saliva out of his eyes. He tried to use his legs to break free of the man's hold, but then the man, who was leaning above him, bent his knee up and hit Hiiro straight in the groin.

Wincing, he let out a painful grunt and whirled his head aside.

Awakened by the sharp pain, The Sparks began to run frenziedly in his head, screaming and shrieking loudly; their shrill cut through his brain like a rusty knife. He clenched his eyes shut, tormented, and begged them to settle down. He couldn't think with all the racket going on inside his head. It was no time to become disoriented!

The man lifted him up so they were face to face. From behind a curtain of dancing bright spots, Hiiro could see a large, angry, red face filling his vision. The Russian man's eyes were ablaze with fury.

"Do you think you not pay for what you did?!" the man roared angrily, rattling Hiiro even harder. He didn't wait for an answer and flipped Hiiro over, throwing him onto the floor - hard.

Hiiro's face crashed onto the stern's hard floor. Every cell in his body told him to fight or flee, but the only thing The Sparks could think of was to run around in circles like a beheaded chicken!

Cut it out - dammit! Let me think! He begged them.

The burly Russian man didn't leave Hiiro even a split second to fight back. He immediately yanked his arms backwards and tied them behind his back, using a coarse rope.

The Sparks sizzled, burning hot like acid fire in his nerves. He felt the man grab his wrists and twist them behind his back, yanking them so hard Hiiro couldn't help but grimace at the sharp pain.

The boat rocked slightly as Anya climbed aboard. Hiiro watched her feet enter his line of sight as she stood above him. For a moment, he confused the Russian girl with another blond girl. He recalled how Relena stood in the line of fire for him, protecting him during his first encounter with Duo. But Anya wasn't there as a friend, she was a foe, he reminded himself. The Sparks shrugged as if it didn't matter - what's the difference, they argued, everyone was out to get him anyway.

"Go back to the boat, Anya!" the man urged the girl, as he tied Hiiro's hands behind his back. "This is not for your eyes!"

Anya ignored her uncle - if he really was her relative - and squatted down in front of Hiiro. He could only see as high as her chin, for the Russian thug was still sitting on top of him, holding his head pressed to the floor.

When the man let go and continued tying Hiiro legs as well, Anya yanked his head up by his hair. Again he winced, but otherwise looked at her calmly. He waited patiently for her to do whatever it was she needed to do.

"I'm not here because I'm bad people," she said quietly, being eerily calm, "You killed everyone I know. I'm here because you're not allowed to be living."

He had nothing to say to that. She was right. What else was there to say?

The man flipped him over to face up again. His arms and legs were crushed under his own weight.

"Do you know what 'dasvidania' means?" Anya asked coldly, still looking down at him with a numb expression on her face. Mystified by the face of his executioner, Hiiro merely stared.

"That means 'sayonara', Hiiro," she continued evenly, "and that means you are dead."

Hiiro's eyes caught a movement and snapped in its direction. He was now staring at the barrel of a gun.

The Russian man was aiming it straight at his forehead. The weapon had a silencer on it; his execution would go unnoticed by the world.

He closed his eyes, ready for the shot that would end his life. Time seemed to slow down, stretching the moment into a lifetime. He could hear his heart pounding loudly in his chest, fear and adrenaline battling his willingness to die. The cool wind caressed his face, tousling his hair. Anya's palm was still resting over his head, pulsing with warmth. He was surprised that her delicate touch registered with him as something comforting.

He wanted to say that he was sorry, but then again, no one had ever apologized to him for all the horrors he had been through, so why should he? Damn them, damn him, damn everything. The world was so ungrateful and so was he.

Time resumed its normal pace with the sound of a cocking gun.

The metallic click echoed loudly in his mind. The Sparks flickered madly, like white noise. His mind filled with static.

HARDWARE MAY NOT BE HARMED.

Without a conscious thought, Hiiro used his legs as leverage and pushed himself backwards.

The shot was fired. It missed him by a split of a second, leaving a round hole on the stern floor.

With a loud splash, Hiiro fell off the stern and into the river. The fall hurt and the cold water chased The Sparks away. Awareness resurfaced and he found himself sinking into the cold grip of The River Shannon.

Gunshots soon followed, bullets missing him by mere inches.

With his limbs tied up behind him, Hiiro sunk quickly to the bottom. He struggled against his bonds, but the ropes were too tight. Black spots danced across his vision. Looking up, he could see the bottom of the boat becoming more and more distant as he drowned.

Trails of bullets split the water around him. One of them grazed his arm, cutting it deep. Another bullet shot past his leg, slashing it open. His vision was already blurred, but he could still see the blood floating around him, painting the water red.

The air ran out in his lungs. He opened his mouth by reflex, gulping in water instead of air.

A few more bullets shot past him, grazing his beaten flesh.

Finally, his body stilled, drained from air and blood. He floated limply within a growing sphere of red liquid. His hair was swung lazily back and forth by the currents. His eyes were closed, dark eyelashes resting against bruised cheeks. His features were calm, like those of a sleeping child. Death came as a soft, black blanket wrapping itself around him. His anger dissolved, leaving only peace.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Donguri korokoro donburiko...'

A woman was singing.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'O-ike ni hamatte saa taihen…'

Her voice meant something to him.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Dojou ga detekite konnichi wa...'

He knew that song...

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Botchan issho ni asobimashou…'

He wanted to sing along with her...

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

HARDWARE MAY NOT BE HARMED.

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Above water, both the Russian man and his alleged niece stood on the pier, and watched. When they saw the water turn bloody red, they nodded at each other and walked away.

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Meanwhile, at town, Nicolai stood in front of rows of shoes at the local department store. His shopping cart was already filled with groceries and all he had left to buy was a pair of shoes for Hiiro. The task would have been simple enough, if only he had had the wits to ask the teen for his shoe size before he left the boat.

Deciding to wing it, he reached for a pair of simple white sneakers and put them in the cart. He headed towards the check out.

Carrying the heavy bags back to the boat was always a hassle. Carrying them by hand turned a ten minute walk into a fifteen minute one. He arrived back at the harbor later than he had expected. He spotted the boat and walked towards it, all the while planning course adjustments for the day, since they would obviously leave the port later than he had planned.

As he walked along the pier towards the boat, he saw a boat leaving the harbor in quite a rush. It caught his attention, since speeding the way they did was unusual while leaving port. He managed to see a young blond girl standing at the stern of the boat, looking at him. Even for the split second he managed to see her face, Nicolai could catch the angry look in her eyes. He hastened his pace, an unpleasant feeling building up in his chest.

The first thing he noticed was that Hiiro wasn't sitting in his usual spot on the roof. As he reached the stern in order to get inside the boat, he saw the novel Hiiro had been reading lying on the floor. Alarm bells went off in his head.

Whirling around, his eyes scanned for the boat that rushed out of the harbor. It was already far in the distance, speeding down the River Shannon.

"Hiiro!" Nicolai called, looking around fearfully, "Hiiro!"

Dropping the grocery bags, Nicolai ducked to look past the glass door and into the boat, but the living area was empty on the inside.

"Hiiro?" He called again, but there was no reply. "Shit."

He spun back to look at the stern, and that's when he noticed the bullet hole close to the edge of the boat.

"Dammit!" He cursed, and ran to the banister. Heart pounding madly, he scanned the water.

His eyes grew wider when he saw the large pool of blood floating in the murky water.

Quickly, he jumped in.

He dove down deep, his eyes searching the bottom of the river. Tall seaweeds obscured the bottom, swinging under the slow currents. He saw no traces of the missing teen.

Resurfacing with a loud gulp of air, he screamed the teen's name, panicked, "HIIRO!"

He looked around the port, scanning every boat, every square inch of water.

Then, just a few feet away, he saw a blue rope floating in the water. The rope was soaked with blood. He swam towards it, having to duck under the pier in order to reach it.

"Hiiro?" He called out again, gripping the piece of rope tightly in his hand.

A small, tired cough echoed under the pier.

Nicolai whirled around. His eyes searched frantically for the source of sound, until he saw him. There, at the edge of the pier, at a small slope of sand, Hiiro lay tied up and mangled.

Nicolai hurried to swim towards him, finally walking through the water when they became shallow enough to walk. There was only a small patch of ground under the pier, and it was well hidden from sight by other boats and the dock's poles. Hiiro lay there with most of his body safe on land, and only his legs still in the water. There was a large pool of blood floating in the water around his feet.

"Hiiro," Nicolai breathed the boy's name with relief. He dropped to his knees next to Hiiro, scanning him for injuries. The teen's skin was pale and almost blue with cold. His body lay limp, exhausted. He noted that Hiiro's arms were bleeding badly, and also restrained behind his back.

"Here, let me help," he said slowly, to get through to Hiiro that he meant no harm.

Behind a mask of wet brown hair, Hiiro shifted his gaze up to look at the man. His eyes seemed unfocused, his mind as blurred as his vision.

"Odin..." he whispered weakly, his pale blue lips trembling.

The man didn't bother to correct him. He bent over to release the knot.

"It's alright, I'm getting you out of here."

"Not safe..." Hiiro mumbled faintly, shaking his head against the muddy earth. Just the thought of another confirmation made him feel small, tired.

When the sound of bullets had ceased rippling through the water, the river fell into a deep silence. His mind cleared, preparing for death, and then The Sparks shrieked once more, informing him that his legs were suddenly free. The bullet that had grazed his leg, injuring him, had also cut through the ropes binding his feet.

A rush of adrenaline burst throughout his body. As he reached the river bottom, he used both his legs to bounce off the surface. His hands were still tied behind his back, but he kicked hard, using every last bit of strength he had in him in order to resurface. He emerged beneath the pier, out of sight, gasping loudly for air. The water under the pier was shallow enough to walk through. Stumbling towards the shore, he took refuge at a small slop of sand at the edge of the pier, where it connected to the land. The Sparks quieted down and he collapsed to the ground, fatigued.

Now, he looked up at the man by his side, grateful for his arrival, at long last.

"I think I saw them leave," Nicolai assured him as he unbound the boy's hands, "It's safe."

Hiiro nodded slowly and closed his eyes. Now that he knew he was safe, all he wanted was to sleep.

He felt Nicolai scoop him up into his arms, shivered and closed his eyes. His body finally relaxed, responding to Nicolai's comforting presence. Every cell in his body told him that he could trust the man; that he was in good hands, familiar hands. Those same hands had nursed him back to health before. They protected him many times before.

Yes, he knew those arms, Hiiro mused absentmindedly as he huddled closer to the man's chest, seeking more warmth, more comfort. He felt like a child again while being carried by those arms. Leaning his head against the man's shoulder, he allowed the nostalgic feeling flood his heart with tingling warmth.

Sometimes he would get himself into trouble just so those hands will take care of him. Sometimes he didn't mind breaking a bone or two or even bleeding, just so he could have Odin by his side.

Drifting into heavy slumber, Hiiro lifted his bleeding arms and wrapped them around the man's neck, like a child seeking protection. Indeed, he was a child again, and Odin was by his side. That was all he cared to know as he surrendered to the darkness.

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To be continued.

Is ANYONE even reading this???