Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ My Shinigami, My Hamburger ❯ Fear of Death, Fear of Flying ( Chapter 12 )

Chapter 12

Fear of Death, Fear of Flying

Heero could sympathize with all the frequent fliers and all the business men and women who constantly shuttled back and forth on the whim of their bosses. Passing through all the security checks was tedious, stressful, and at times, even ridiculous, and the recent skirmishes with a few lone colony terrorists acting out hadn't done anything for the Earth Sphere security but make it much more paranoid. He hadn't enjoyed the process himself, but he would have paid just about any imaginable amount to be in the past, when he didn't have to get an Angel of Death past the metal detectors. As they were walking up to the metal detector and coming in sight of a relatively short line, they had less than ten or eleven minutes before the boarding of their plane would end, and they would inevitably be stuck there until the next flight came around. Heero didn't want to consider how he would spend the time waiting and keeping a very short leash on his otherworldly passenger.

Considering the thought of being stuck in the terminal until who knew when if they did happen to miss their flight, Heero took a second to think about how much patience it had taken him not to forfeit the deal he had made with the Goddess of Love. Had he not started thinking of it as just an initiative to be accomplished, he might have hesitated to pull the Shinigami out of traffic and harm's way. Thinking of it as some sort of torturous mission made him concentrate on finishing it, if only to be free of the responsibility after the five days. If he missed that flight, he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep himself together and pull through the mission he'd reluctantly accepted. He might leave Shini in the airport, he was feeling so over whelmed and just plain exhausted. That brought on the thought of, if the billions of human beings that had come before him could not escape Death, then how did he think he was going to when he knew it personally?

He should have never left home in the first place, he sighed internally, as he had to pull the Shinigami away from tentatively trying to break the glass on the vending machine they passed by and tugged him steadily along toward the metal detector. He eyed it silently, wondering if there was anyway to pass through without any trouble. Shini quickly trotted up to his side and kept up, so that he didn't need to be dragged along, and smiled warmly at everything and nothing in particular in his harmless fashion. He looked over to his affectionately dubbed Teishu, then straight past him at what lay beyond him.

They were quickly passing by the waiting area, filled with rows and rows of plain black seats and some of those filled with weary travelers all waiting to leave, as they were about to. Not particularly noticeable, Heero thought, but the broad window letting the morning light in was attractive enough for steel and panes of glass. Shini hesitated in his step a bit and craned his head to see all the mortals sitting, some haggard and some impatient, some busy typing on a laptop or tiredly consuming their coffee and doughnuts. Of course, after an entire terminal of the same behavior, Heero didn't pay it any attention and kept on walking until his arm was completely extended an was unable to keep moving. He looked over his shoulder at the Shinigami, taking in the sight of the commuters but without the usual look of wonderment.

His hand was still wrapped around the Shinigami's wrist, and he gave it a tug. "Shini, let's keep going," the Japanese man said flatly, already turning around to start walking.

Again, he didn't move, and again, Heero turned his head around to look at his arranged husband, this time much more impatiently and with a stronger tug. "We're going to miss our flight," Heero warned bluntly, only hoping that he would obey so that they wouldn't become stranded in a San Franciscan terminal until another flight became available. He wasn't sure when that would be, and he certainly didn't intend to find out on this particular trip.

"What are they all doing there?"

Heero gave a longsuffering sigh. With all the mundane explanations he'd been giving, he was beginning to feel like either a schoolteacher or a cheesy instructional video that might teach the brain dead about everything in the world. Or that could just be his exasperation catching up with him. "They're waiting to leave," he informed plainly, giving the deity's wrist another guiding tug in the right direction, toward the metal detector. Heero hadn't even begun to think how they were going to get through security without being stopped, what with the Shinigami in such a suspicious looking state of dress with black robes dragging on the floor and long, matted hair.

Luckily, the Shinigami decided to relent a little and allowed himself to be slowly pulled along, still transfixed quietly on the sight. "They look very tired, Teishu-"

"Just like me," he muttered beneath his breath.

"And very unhappy. Are they there for purpose?"

"Yes."

Shini made a face. "Well, that's very strange."

Heero only grunted this time, already disconnecting himself from the conversation to focus on the more urgent issue of getting them both to the metal detector in time to board their plane. He had begun tugging strongly this time, pulling the Shinigami along in little bursts, when he heard the black-winged deity say, "You mortals are very strange indeed. You create a Purgatory, then remain there willingly. He may never understand you, Shini thinks."

It took a second for Heero to realize that the sound of a short laugh had come from him, at the Shinigami's innocuous comment that the terminal was something like Purgatory, and that he had actually found it amusing. He cautiously looked back at the winged deity in his tow to make sure that he'd actually said that, and felt the brief smile leave his face. The Shinigami was still too wrapped in trying to contemplate the strange behavior of the people between Heaven and Hell to notice that he had actually laughed, and Heero used it to his advantage. He managed to get Shini to start walking again and soon found himself at the silver arch of the metal detector, already shedding his backpack in preparation to throw it on the scanner.

It was inevitable that sooner or later that the deity in his tow would notice the alien item before him and it was inevitable that he would ask his mortal husband about it. "Teishu? What is it?"

"Don't worry," he said, gently tugging him forward by his wrist along with him when he felt the Shinigami balk slightly at the sight of the people passing through it. "Just walk through. It's only a metal detector, it shouldn't pick anything up on you."

However, Shini still didn't completely trust the strange thing, and especially not the wary eyed security guards, and he showed it with a sour little peep of his tongue. "He will say it should not touch him. It looks like a thief," he said lowly, watching the people pile their luggage on the conveyer belt and letting it pass through a curious looking metallic box. "It will not steal from Shini," he warned grumpily, letting out another silent raspberry and latching onto Heero's arm as if to use him as a shield if the machine suddenly took offense and struck back at him. There were a few other people watching the exchange, but few knew what to think of a seeming young man who feared a metal detector.

"It's not going to take anything. It's just a machine," Heero said flatly, swinging his backpack onto the conveyer belt and shaking off the Shinigami's clinging arms as he began to walk through the arch.

The Angel of Death instantly made a strangled face and opened his mouth to loudly warn his husband not to give his parcel to the thieving, belying machine, but before he could get past the 'T' in 'Teishu!' there was a warm hand clamped over his mouth, sufficiently muffling him.

Getting the sinking feeling he'd again done something wrong, judging from the pointed look he received from Heero and his stormy blue eyes, Shini quickly shut himself up by clamping both of his palms over his mouth dramatically. He stood absolutely still and simply watched as Heero sighed, managed to pull his hands away from his mouth and the ridiculous pose he was making, and completely ignored the increasing amount of strange looks that were coming their way. It wasn't easy, knowing that almost all the attention was focused on him and his bizarre companion, but it was the thought of finishing an initiative that kept his composure.

"Just watch what I do, alright?" Heero asked quietly, turning slightly as he waited for the Shinigami's affirmative.

Again, the deity had found it convenient to vent his anxiety by biting on his sleeve and managed to nod out an uncertain answering, "Hai, Teishu." His eyes followed the mortal as if he were a lifeline of some kind, watching him carefully as he passed effortlessly through the security checks and the metal detector that caused so much suspicion in the young Angel of Death, and darkened when he realize that he was next in line to pass through it. He might have stood his ground like a mule, if not for the look in his husband's eyes that ordered him forward. Heero even retrieved his bag and turned to leave, pressuring the Shinigami even more to start moving.

Shini made a pouting frown as he balled up his fists and stalked straight through the metal detector, beneath several suspicious gazes directed at the unusual, heavy black garb he was wearing and possibly hiding weapons in. Heero waited anxiously as Shini stepped cautiously through, still making a very unhappy face at the machine he believed wanted to steal from him. He knew that if he tripped the alarm and was asked to take off his cloak, things would not be good. He let out a deep breath when the Shinigami stepped through and the red light did not instantly go off. He even waited a second, if the response was delayed, but still nothing.

He sighed and went up to take his husband by the arm, who was shrinking away from the silver arch and hissing at it, and quickly took him off to their boarding gate with no more than seven minutes to spare.

Boarding the plane should have been similar, Heero thought, but it surprisingly was much smoother than initially getting to their appointed gate. Where before there had only been a fierce curiosity and even an apprehension of all the new mortal things he was seeing, now there was just a buzzing excitement in Shini to reach the home of his new époux pushing him forward. He looked at things and simply gave the standard "Ooh," and "Ah," before moving along, to Heero's immense relief.

His favorite new thing seemed to be the corridor leading to the airplane, where he loved skipping up and down, even racing to the door and then going back to tag Heero playfully on the arm and run back to the door where the stewardess was standing, grinning in victory. Heero walked by briskly, avoiding eye contact with the girl as she led them to their seats, leaning back once to grab Shini by the hair and pull him along when he tried to turn around and start running up and down the corridor again. He gave a shrill little, "Eep!" as protest, but Heero was indeed strong enough to pull him along. He pitied Shini's former caretakers who might not have had the physical endurance to keep the troublesome deity in check.

He pitied himself a little as well, but he didn't know what good it would be just complaining to silently to himself. Only five more days and he'd be free of an insane divine burden, one that had been forced on him and then cemented in otherworldly marriage.

This stewardess luckily had no name tag to be seen, and it spared her from a well-meaning greeting from the Angel of Death, and surprisingly, Shini only gave her a beaming welcoming smile as he brushed by her and dove past both of them into the window seat as soon as she escorted them to it. He seemed to have certain affection reserved for windows, and as soon as he crawled over the armrest, nearly tripping on his cloak in his hurry, he stared transfixed out onto the runaways that stretched out in the morning sun. Looking almost like a child enraptured by a television screen, Shini curled his legs up next to him on the seat and put both hands on the windowsill, trying in vain to try and see the entire airport through one small window in the thirteenth row.

The stewardess, like most of the others that day, gave the concealed Angel of Death a slight look, but Heero gave her in return a thanking smile that sent her back on her way. As she left, Heero turned to look back at the Shinigami, eagerly pressing his nose to the glass, with his carry-on backpack in hand. When he was mildly sure he wouldn't be clamoring over any seats to go after whatever caught his eye, shiny or not, he opened the overhead compartment and packed his bag inside. He'd brought little to entertain himself with on the flight home, so it was it was easier to put it all out of the way. Both out of harm's way and out of the Shinigami's path of investigation.

As he closed the compartment he wondered what would distract him from the curious-not to mention never-ending-questions of the deity, or it really might drive him over the edge. One could only explain the most mundane of things so many times in the morning without a drop of coffee before it started to get to you.

As the latch clicked shut, Heero let his arms down and looked at the Angel of Death that just happened to sit a few feet away from him. He was mildly surprised to see that Shini had finished licking the window and making faces against the glass and just looked pleasantly back at him, still curled up on the seat. Just smiling in return. No pleas of "What's that?" or "What does that do, Teishu?" At least for the time being.

Heero gave him an almost wary look before taking his place in the seat beside the smiling God of Death. He had expected him to instantly drown him in curiosity as soon as he sat down, but he simply widened his smile, then laid back in his seat. He rubbed his back theatrically into the seat and stretched his fingers on the armrests, reclining into his chair as if he was a king newly coming to power and testing out his throne. He even made a slight purring noise to go along. Heero snorted to himself, then relaxed in his own seat and took to staring at the ceiling and listening to the background sound of the other passengers finding their seats. Just as he felt his eyelids dip heavily over his eyes, the voice of the Shinigami brought him back to reality.

"Teishu?" Shini asked brightly, twisting around so he sat completely facing the mortal man. "Are you awaking?"

That earned him a flat, half-lidded look. "I am now."

"Oh, good." He grinned despite the unhappy tone his husband had so subtly used, and folded his arms and laid his head sideways on his elbow. "Shini was wondering about what New Edo is like. He was there once before, and he wants to know what's different. You were birthed and raised there, were you not, Teishu?"

Well, it was better than bouncing up and down ridiculously and pointing and yanking on his sleeve, Heero thought to himself. Though it wasn't the most grammatically correct, it was the Shinigami's way of starting a conversation-asking some kind of question about something. And usually if it wasn't about something directly in front of him, it was about Heero. He nodded at the deity, letting out a soft sigh of tiredness as well.

"You are not wholly Nihonese [1], are you, Teishu?" He asked while staring straight into his very un-Japanese blue eyes.

Heero noted just how antiquated Shini's speech was, calling everything from Japan to Tokyo by its former and much older name. He even had to wonder if he'd heard of the Feudal Era, which had taken place hundreds of years ago while the islands had been in civil turmoil. He probably had little to no idea about the colonies being built out in space, either, unless Iria had kept him up to date. And considering how he hadn't even heard of things like luggage or airplanes, she probably hadn't.

He shook his head, replying, "No. My father was a Westerner."

"American?" Shini looked eagerly at him, his tail thudding dulling under his heavy cloak.

"He was a little bit of everything," Heero answered quietly, having trouble trying to picture his father's face after it had faded with time. Both his parents had died sometime ago, and without the framed picture of the two playfully stepping through the waves on a Japanese beach to refresh the images of their faces, his memory was beginning to mist over. That spread a tiny frown across his face. "But yes, he spent a lot of time in America. The Marine Corps. He was the one who taught me most of my English."

"And your mother?"

"Professor of Psychology, Kyoto. She was born there."

Heero half-expected the short answer to again spark another question, but the Shinigami simply blinked up at him from lying his head on his arms and gave a little, "Aa," of understanding. Still his long, unbound, and very tangled hair was knotted with a few scraps of leaves and laced here and there with lingering traces of Darkness oil, which had a tendency to smell like an odd combination of death and cabbage after a certain amount of time out in the sun. Shini smiled warmly up at him through his bangs, grinning almost as if he'd only just met him and forgotten all that had happened in the days before, tilting his head further as he spoke up again.

"In New Edo, Teishu-"

"Tokyo," Heero corrected plainly.

"Oh. Tokyo," Shini beamed, not even missing a beat or faltering in his flawless Divine's smile. The soft thud of his tail beating lazily came from under his concealing cloak. "Where do you live, Teishu?"

Unfortunately, if the curious deity was looking for an in-depth answer that might feed him information about his reluctant husband, he was disappointed. Heero answered very short and sweetly. "A house."

That brought a very sudden groan of exasperation from the Angel of Death who lifted his head, snorted over-exaggeratedly as he leaned forward and his hair flopped around him, and rolled his eyes almost laughingly at his mortal husband. "Ayaaaa," Shini keened out dramatically, "He already thought of that!" Whatever else the Shinigami had on his mind to express was cut short, as he became suddenly and absolutely absorbed in listening to the stewardesses give the standard lecture on safety procedures. He settled into his seat like he was settling down for a storytelling and listened raptly, imitating the flight attendants gestures even. Of course, Heero had no interest in listening, or participating either, for that matter, and leaned back and closed his eyes again hoping to catch whatever uninterrupted rest he could-he knew it would be a stressful, sleepless five days ahead.

His short-lived rest was plagued with sudden unbidden thoughts of his passed mother and father rising to the surface, after they had been neglected for so long, and it was interrupted once again by the inhuman being sitting beside him with the smile and innocence of a child but apparently enough might to conquer Hell in an instant. Shini was hovering beside him, smiling almost as if he'd done something as immature as scribble on his face with a marker while he slept, and Heero couldn't help but wear a wary frown for a minute.

"What?" he asked flatly. When the deity only gazed at him, the mischievous smile dimming a little, the Japanese man asked again, sharper than before. "What do you want? It's going to be a long flight. I'm trying to sleep."

"He is only wondering if you are lonely," the Shinigami said openly. "You're thinking about your parents." Heero narrowed his eyes slightly at him, and it spurred him to smile wider and brighter and add, "He can tell."

Heero snorted as he glanced, disgruntled, past the deity's tangled hair at the window to notice that they had somehow taken off without his noticing. Had he really been asleep, or just that wrapped up in his thoughts? If so, how long had the Shinigami been sitting there, watching him? It was slightly unnerving, how surely he had asserted he was thinking of his mother and father, both who had died when he had been only just reaching his teenage years. Yeah. Unnerving.

"Oh, really?" he monotoned in return, hoping his gravelly and unwelcoming tone would warn off any more prying questions. Something about the knowing smile from a God of Death wasn't all that comforting when dealing with the ghosts of his past. "I'm just fine," he replied dully, already looking away to the back of the seat in front of him to avoid looking at the deity's knowing face.

The Shinigami's voice softened. "Shini knows you've been living alone, Teishu. Okasan told him that they had died thirteen years ago, and you have been alone since they passed between the worlds." While he still couldn't get his arranged husband to face him, the winged deity smiled warmly at the side of his face. He even snuck a hand onto his arm.

"It is alright. Shini knows what lonely is like, and he does not like it, either. Is worse than the bad luck that he has."

However well intentioned the little speech he gave was, it didn't make a dent in the one that Aphrodite had dubbed Arrogant Mortal as he grunted vaguely and continued to stare off somewhere else, wishing he could get a little sleep in peace and knowing that it probably wasn't going to happen. Especially now that an infant directly behind them had started crying. Heero sighed, but the Shinigami shifted around in his seat so that he could peer cautiously over the headrest at the source of the alien noise. He looked at the mortal woman holding the young child wrapped in a pink blanket and trying to soothe her to sleep over his knuckles, staring curiously at the tiny human. He'd very rarely seen such young infants, the youngest being a four-year old little girl in a sundress and hat while traveling with Iria in search of a caretaker.

Shini's eyes widened and he lifted his head up to peer down as the baby's wails slowly waned off, as it caught sight of the deity himself, tilting his head as he watched her in return. The mother noticed and made a relieved smile that her daughter had quit her sudden bout of crying.

"What's her name?" Shini peeped suddenly, taking on a bright smile.

"Allison Rose," the mother answered proudly. She offered a welcoming smile towards the stranger, knowing from the childish mannerisms he showed that he genuinely meant no harm. The strawberry blonde mother leaned down and gently took her tiny hand and talked gently to her, as the infant gaped in equal curiosity up at Shini as he did down at her, despite being over a thousand years old. The Angel of Death cautiously reached out when the infant pawed out at the air with her other tiny hand.

As soon as his hand got close, something fearful and almost dark cast over the infant's pale blue eyes and she began wailing again as the mother hurriedly pressed her to her chest and tried to soothe her again. Shini dropped back into his seat, turning a distinct shade of red from embarrassment and sunk deeper and deeper down. He wanted to disappear, but folding his arms over his head didn't quite do it.

Heero was looking very unhappy in his direction. "Shini!" he hissed quietly.

"He didn't mean to! He swears!" the Angel of Death groaned, mortified of what he'd done now. "Shini didn't mean to hurt the small mortal, he really didn't. He's so sorry, Teishu-He didn't mean to!" He clutched at his long, matted eartails and yanked at them agonizingly, squinting his eyes shut tight while the wailing in the background took what might have seemed like forever to calm.

"Shini, be quiet! Not so loud-" Heero warned under his breath as he leaned in, trying to shake off the increasing amount of eyes planted up on him and his whimpering otherworldly companion.

"He's so sorry!" the Shinigami apologized again, now covering his face with his hands and curling up into an even smaller, an even more ashamed little ball in his seat. "He didn't meant it!"

By now, there was a great deal of attention focused on him, and he could feel it piling up on him since he had shifted in his seat just enough to shield the sight of a seemingly human and very disheveled grown man whining and whimpering with his back. He'd always had a sense for feeling eyes upon him, and the wandering gazes of many had settled on the source of the sudden noises. Not all those eyes were very happy to hear the wails of an infant again, Heero could tell. He frowned to himself and put a hand on the Shinigami's shoulder, though it was hunched tightly against his cheek as he kept a tight hold on handfuls of his hair.

"I know you didn't mean to," Heero reassured stiffly. "It's probably just an accident."

The whimpering Angel of Death twisted his bowed head to reveal forerunning tears taking shape and blurring the inhuman, purple tint of his eyes. Bearing an unhappy frown and groaning to himself, he brought his knees tight up to his chest and again pulled on his long, matted hair. "Shini always does this!" he keened out in lament. "Always! Always always always!"

The frown soured further, and a look of impatient confusion crossed his face. "It's fine, Shinigami. Nothing happened," Heero said, trying, like the mother in the row behind him, to pacify the young, emotional bundle he was in charge of. For a second, he seemed to calm down, but eventually his face crumpled again and he buried it against the tops of his knees. That frown became a scowl, and Heero tried again. "You only scared her, you didn't do anything wrong. Babies cry."

Eventually, the eyes piling up on his back made him put his arm tentatively around the Shinigami's shoulder to comfort him enough to see that he quieted down. The deity automatically reached out when he felt the comforting touch and buried himself against his mortal husband's side, hiding his face in his shoulder while he rode out the last few mourning moments of his outburst. He mumbled into the fabric of Heero's jacket a pitiful apology.

"Shinigami is sorry, Teishu…" He sniffled and rubbed his nose against his shoulder.

"It's fine," Heero asserted one last time, slowly losing his nervousness and tightening his arm around the black-winged deity's back. "Infants are easily scared. That's not your fault."

Shini groaned back, "No, it's not that. Because it is Shini's fault. All his fault." Pulling at his sleeve, he continued on, still visibly upset by the very minor commotion he'd caused. "It is because Shinigami is Shinigami. He frightened the tiny mortal. His fault."

"Most of people can sense that you're different from a normal human being, but that doesn't mean they know that you are who you are-"

Shini crumpled into an even smaller, more ashamed ball, ducking his head down. "He could have hurt her," he confessed in a tiny whimper, letting go of his Teishu's arm and burying his head between his own. Long strands of leaf-matted hair spilled out over his leg as he had bowed his head forward shamefully and remained still.

Heero watched quietly, feeling the eyes of unwanted attention slowly drift away from them and listening as the sniffling of the God of Death faded into silence. He waited, then said gently, "Shini?" His arm on the back of the Shinigami twitched slightly, and Heero had the feeling that he was either too wrapped up in his own little guilt trip to notice him, or he'd somehow managed to cry himself to sleep already. He'd be surprised if it was the later, but on second thought, he might not be. Either way, the Shinigami didn't seem ready to act rational and probably needed some time of quiet. Whatever. That meant rest for him as well.

Heero leaned back, with one arm still slung over the deity's back, and thought quietly until Shini started to stir drowsily beside him. It'd been quiet a while, the time slipping by without much attention from the mortal, and even he felt his eyes were heavy and weary. As the Shinigami lifted his head groggily and sat back on his heels to rub the tenseness and exhaustion from his face, Heero resisted a yawn and glanced down at his watch. It'd been over three hours. He frowned at the ticking second hand, almost disbelieving, then realized he must have drifted off without noticing. Traveling west toward the string of islands named Japan, the skies were getting darker and it looked more and more like early morning.

Scratching the matted puff of brown bed-head on his skull that was his hair, Shini caught the yawning bug and let loose one of his own. He smacked his lips sleepily after he was finished and looked over to his arranged husband with eyes that were still too heavy or just too lazy to fully open and rimmed with red traces of crying. "Oi, Teishu, how much further is it to Tokyo?" he inquired sleepily.

Heero blinked the sleep out of his eyes and first raked the deity with an analyzing look. "Are you alright now? You were upset before," he said bluntly.

Shini blinked and sat back, regarding him almost as if he'd started singing the Little Teapot song {which had become one of the Angel of Death's favorites during a short stint staying with an medieval troubadour} and tilted his head to the side. "About what?" he asked innocently. He only had to look back into Heero's stare to refresh his memory, and his face drooped. "Oh, he remembers."

"Yeah," Heero grunted in return vaguely, watching the Shinigami intently. It amazed him that a being so seemingly harmless and innocent could really possess the unfathomable potential that Iria had described to him in the storage shed, that one so sensitive to all the strange things around him and his own blunders had the ability in him to slaughter the God of the Underworld and wage war on Heaven if it took his fancy. This Shinigami was definitely different from his brothers, Heero noted, his eyes sweeping from the mussed hair, blood-shot eyes, and miserable little pout set across his face.

"Are you okay?" Heero asked quietly.

With a few cautious looks over his shoulder, directed at the mother and child behind them, Shini bit his lip and asked his arranged husband, "He did not do any harm to the little mortal?"

"I don't think so."

"Sure?"

"Yes, she's fine," Heero almost growled.

He sniffled once and pawed at his nose with his sleeve, looking down at his other hand in his lap. "Then Shini thinks he is all right." The Shinigami allowed himself a moment or two to pat down some of his disheveled hair and calm himself down again, shifting in his seat to face forward. A second after that, a bright grin turned his way again. It also amazed Heero just how fast he could go back and forth from emotion to emotion, something any Shinigami would have no idea of.

"Teishu, how much further is it to Tokyo?" the young God of Death asked again.

The mortal man sighed quietly to himself, knowing just how long the flight would drag on-what seemed like forever. However, he knew that if he actually said that out loud, there was no telling how Shini would interpret it, no doubt spawning another string of questions he really wasn't in the best mood to answer nicely. "A ways," he said plainly. "I have no idea what the jet lag might be like, so we should probably get some sleep now. That is, if I can," Heero added under his breath lastly, a direct reference to the troublesome Shinigami. Looking dully over to his passenger, Heero started to explain that there were pillows for them, but was soon cut off.

"Alright, Teishu," Shini murmured obediently, nuzzling his nose against Heero's skin, finding itself a nest in the crook of his neck. Without his even noticing, he'd managed to slink an arm behind his back and lace fingers with the other hand, the other arm being draped over his stomach. In a single movement, he was pressed up tightly against the mortal's side without the intention of letting go anytime soon. It was obvious in the way he snuggled tight up against his shoulder and squeezed his arms tight when Heero instinctually flinched. He'd hardly seen the Shinigami move, or it had just really taken him by surprise.

"There is a pillow, you know," Heero said tensely, not moving an inch in the Shinigami's grasp. Parts of the dark, wing-concealing cloak now draped over him, and he was surprised to feel just how soft and warm they seemed to be. It hardly felt like any fabric he knew existed.

"Mmmm, no thanks," Shini said, his eyes already closed and drifting off.

For a long time after he had fallen away from consciousness and off to sleep, making a little buzzing snore every one in a while into the crook of his neck, Heero sat stiffly in his seat with one Shinigami wrapped tightly around him and definitely not letting go. He assumed that once had fallen to sleep, his grip might weaken, and he could gently lift his arms off of him, but the opposite was true. In his sleep, Shini would nuzzle and mumble incoherently at times and almost clutch him possessively at times when a particular dream would crease his brow and make his childish and innocent face marred with discomfort.

Did Divines really dream like mortals? Heero suddenly found himself asking.

After staring blankly at the God of Death's slumbering face for the longest time while absorbed in his deliberations and muddled thoughts, Heero felt his eyes once again reminding him of his own bone-deep exhaustion by politely weighing down his eyelids with what felt like two identical lead anvils and felt an overwhelming urge to just give in and get the rest he knew he probably would be wishing for once they were off the plane. There was a momentary, panicky thought of what the hell he was going to do once he actually got back to his homeland, but he was much too tired to want to think about it. With the Shinigami wrapped almost protectively around him, Heero had little choices for pillows, so he opted to lay his head on top of Shini's, breathed in the smell of his hair mingled with the unpleasant trace amounts of Darkness oil once, and welcomed sleep.

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[1] Nihon is the Japanese name for Japan, so Nihonese is basically the same as Japanese. I thought it fit Shini's dialect a little better.

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[[[A/N]]] Oh my. Sweet Sixteen. That's me, on the twentieth of August. Bleh, I feel so old. I know, I know, I'm probably getting a lot of harsh looks for that last statement, but you have to realize... I used to be nine. Now, I'm sixteen. Nine... sixteen. Young, then utterly ancient. That was back when I really didn't have a care in the world. Sadly, for my sixteenth birthday party, which was celebrated a few days early because of a family reunion I have to go to shortly after my real birthday, I did not have a big round, white and pink-trimmed cake and Jake Ryan sitting across from me, though I felt a little like Molly Ringwald. Ringwold? Ah, I can't remember. Nor do I care; I'm old now. I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out. Really, I am. I've been too busy violating traffic laws and trying to figure out a way to get sideswiped that would just wipe that smug little smirk off my sister's face in the backseat. Ah, the wonders of a teenager driving.