Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The One-Eared Neko ❯ ORIGIN OF SPECIES ( Chapter 24 )

Part 24 ORIGIN OF SPECIES

Of the six dossiers that had been sitting on his desk Monday morning of that week, Duo regretted opening this one the most. The one that had opened up to reveal he had not been able to leave the ghosts of his past behind-the one that informed him that they, in fact, had a little reminder awaiting him in the sweltering forbidden of the Congo, and through a chaotic mess of memos, phone calls, and news media, had led him to his current situation. The bulky manila folder sat cradled on his knees, secured by his folded hands resting on top, and the exposed edges of paper were fluttering violently. Duo Maxwell sat in the backseat, buckled tightly, dressed as heavily as he could stand in the heat, and opposite of the young, blue-eyed Japanese man he'd once called the Traveler, what seemed an impossible time ago, off in a distant, murky carnival ground. One who held a little more exclusive title these days, but the unadorned gold band around his scarred ring finger could have told you that, had you looked closely enough.

Heero was looking out the cramped window to the left as well as he could with the wind cycling viciously in and out the open window, squinting while his hair tossed around in his face. His hand gripped around his knee anxiously, and as the bohemian watched him, he could see his nostrils flaring a little as the smell of burning substance wafted into the helicopter on the stuffy African winds. The helicopter jolted a little now and then, rattled a little in a way that would unnerve anyone, but Duo had faith it would hold out long enough without breakdown to last them the day and whatever else might come up. Supplies were still unreliable in many of these parts, and it'd been by stroke of bohemian luck they'd been able to acquire this one to escort them. Finding a pilot too, had taken a while, and all the while the smell of smoke had been growing stronger.

Still being bounced along by the winds, feeling awfully like a toddler in a defective car seat, Duo let out a sigh and looked away from the man sitting across from him. The winds and blades clouting the air overhead were too loud to yell over, and Heero was too engrossed in staring out the window to chat, anyway, watching the unbroken mass of green roll out below them. The one-eared Neko took another deep breath to regret and let the scent of smoke mull around in his senses. He had a feeling something more deliberate was awaiting him than just a cheerful bonfire, more than just some 'unidentified ruins' and 'unnamed remains.'

They didn't need to dance around the fact of the matter with obscure words-Duo knew it as much as he smelled it that they had found a massacred Nekonese village. Otherwise they wouldn't have gone through the trouble of calling him to the scene. The way things were now, leaking that information to the public in a careless way could light a very dangerous fuse-Anti-Neko supporters and radicals alike would leap on the chance to glorify the event as a necessary purging, and Duo knew that there would be others like him, ready and willing to fight back the more they were pushed by said radicals. He may have felt that he needed to assassinate Senator Peacecraft to pay for the damage he'd done, but he knew how little anybody needed a war and he understood he'd made a mistake when he'd been too blinded by rage and despair at the moment to realize, or even care.

Of course, he thought, with a little snort, he had to care now. He'd be more of a fool than he had been before not to. He was the one in the spotlight, in the public eye in danger of assassination these days, and somewhere out of sight a young punk like himself might be plotting to kill him as well. A little ironic, considering he'd set out to kill the Senator and in process found himself an ambassador instead. And Peacecraft was still alive, though he was more reluctant to advocate the Anti-Neko movement out loud now that the man who had schemed to kill him for it could often be found sitting across from him at national peace summits, smirking at him and deliberately toying around with the glossy Ambassador nameplate stationed in front of him.

They needed no map to locate their destination, they simply followed the smoke to its source, a patch of the Congo less densely forested in the valley formed by the rolling hills on either side. The sun had risen high enough to drive away the mists hanging over the trees and Duo could crane his neck just enough to catch glimpses of the first to arrive on the scene pacing between piles of rubble through the breaches in the thinned-out canopy.

The helicopter turned and the whirl of blades over head began to slow, the one-eared Neko and the blue-eyed traveler each gluing their attention to the windows, and the smell of smoke grew so strong it began to sting the inside of Duo's nose. But the strength of it wasn't reason for the sudden scowl he made, it was knowing what it was from. He could smell it now-a scent most would take for the smell a steak roasting on the grill but to Duo it was unmistakable. It was one he'd known and experienced before in an all too real way.

The heavy thudding of the blades cutting air slowed more and more until the whirring of the rudder faded away with a whine and the helicopter rested completely on the ground, the thick grasses around the square of dirt cleared for landing still lashing in the wind as it died down. From the cramped helicopter windows, the one-eared could see the tents, most of which had taken years or even decades of battering jungle wear, scattered beneath the canopy, scattered between individual piles of smoking, black rubble. Men and women crowded around the burnt ruins, fanning the smoke from their faces, covered in ashes and their hands blackened with soot as they pulled fragments of arrowheads and clay from them. Others buzzed back and forth like industrious bumblebees, the charred ashes on their clothes their stripes, carrying clipboards there, cameras here, and plastic bags of fire-salvaged items to superiors, who scrutinized them and scribbled on notepads. Despite the working environment, the generally serene chatter hanging in the air, and the light conversations going on in groups around the tents, eating lunches over tiny gas stoves, it didn't change the fact it was a war-zone to Duo. The smell of blood saturating the air so thick he felt he could physically touch it did not signify an expedition picnic to him.

The door swung open and Duo followed Heero as he jumped down from the rim of the helicopter and his boots landed in a swarm of ants converging on a scrap of meat. He stepped over it without a second hienn consideration-Duo made a conscious effort to go around the slice of Nekonese skin festering on the ground and followed his husband as he rushed out to the group of men clustered near the main tent, awaiting them.

Some of their faces seemed vaguely familiar to him as he came closer. After all, there were only so many dignitaries in the world and it sure felt like he'd met them all and tried to catalogue each of them in a new space in his brain just for public affairs. If he had been told he was going to be an ambassador before he had even met the traveler, he would have scoffed at it. He hadn't even planned on living past his assassination attempt; to picture this scene would have been impossible. Duo swept the papers under his arm to free it up for the initiating handshakes as they finally neared the group of men, horribly out of place in the jungle in their crisply laundered suits. He felt a little embarrassed that he and Heero were in shorts or khakis and tank tops in comparison-Northern Nekonese skin didn't sweat very well-and he'd been caught with his appearance down. Being an ambassador for a week would teach you that lesson, always to be preened for the cameras. But that feeling passed as soon as they met and business was pushed to the front of all their minds. Heero stepped aside and let Duo mingle professionally with all the officials gathered there, giving each a firm handshake and listening to them introduce themselves briefly. He recognized one of them from a visit he'd paid just recently to Eastern Europe and he could smell the charisma reeking off him from meters away. Yeah, he remembered this politician.

"Ambassador Maxwell," Khushrenada greeted cordially, the twist in his smile very much sincere. "It's a pleasure to see you and your husband again, well and rested."

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Treize, while I'm well and rested," Duo replied with an equal smirk, pumping his hand once in a friendly handshake. "Though I kind of hoped we could have met over lunch or something instead. This place is a little morose, even for my tastes."

"Yes, I agree. But there's always a next time, Ambassador," the tall auburn man answered with a smile. "I'd be more than happy to have the both of you, your husband and yourself, to my home for a proper home cooked meal. I assure you I am an even better cook than I am a politician."

Duo beamed slyly. "I don't know-is that saying much?"

Khushrenada leaned back and clapped a hand on the shorter man's shoulder with a hearty laugh, one that filled your ears to hear it and your mind with a solid assurance. "You do have a quick notoriously quick tongue, perhaps only surpassed by the speed as your sleight of hand."

"Ha. You'd be right," the one-eared Neko said, his feline appendage pursing happily against his head, "But not anymore. I don't steal anymore-that's just a hobby."

"Is that on the record?"

"You tell me, Treize. And didn't I tell ever tell you the name's Duo-Duo Maxwell-Yuy?" He glanced brightly over to the traveler standing beside him, a smirk on his lips, and put an arm over Heero's shoulders where it utterly belonged and often longed to be during the long and tedious meetings. "I don't think I ever got to introduce myself properly to you the last time we met, at the Lithuanian Summit, did I?"

"No, I don't think so," the imposing politician said with a smirk, resting his hands in the pocket of his dignified blue overcoat, decorated in elaborate gold trimmings resembling those of a decorated admiral. "But I can see why-Ambassador Duo Maxwell-Yuy might be a mouthful for the non-English press."

Duo laughed happily and was forced to take his arm from his husband's shoulders when the rest of the politicians began to descend upon him, absorbing him with the task at hand. They talked as they walked, Treize striding at the one-eared Neko's side and the rest trotting a few steps ahead, moving their hands animatedly as they spoke. As he often did when his husband went to work, Heero tried to unobtrusively fade into the background and simply watch Duo protectively, allow him to work-but Duo hated the feeling of the traveler dropping back like he hadn't earned his spot beside him when he most definitely had. Duo had always told him it was stupid to put him up on a pedestal like that, knowing at the same time it probably would not pierce his humbleness, and took his husband by the hand, requiring him to come along at his side.

The politicians informed him briefly of the few facts that were known of the site-it'd happened only the morning, the afternoon beforehand and there appeared to be no survivors. Bodies had been found disembodied and mutilated almost beyond recognition in the surrounding jungle, as well as in the ashes and scattered around the camp in various hiding places, knives in their bellies or bullets between their eyes. Some of those bodies had been burned where they'd fallen, as well as nearly every hut in the area. One had been found completely demolished, knocked to the ground, and there had been pieces of fingernails and blood in long tracks from when the person hiding beneath the wreckage was pulled out against their will. There were signs that many others had been bodily dragged from their hiding places, and the marks of persons being forcibly taken all led to one central location, the place that Duo and Heero were quickly approaching, watching billows of dark grey ash choke the air.

Of all the scents he'd ever picked up with his Nekonese sense of smell, this one was by far the worse. Not only because of it's sickening, festering smell, but because it could only mean one thing and it brought back a memory that had driven him to murder. Heero could smell it, though not as well, and appreciate it for the horrible sensation it was, but he couldn't feel a rage coming up in his stomach like it was in his husband's when they stopped before the massive bonfire and watched the hundreds of Neko and human bodies burn. They stood as close as they dared, with the ashes of murder victims rising into the air, and beneath their feet were dried blood stains and remainders claw marks in the dirt and before them the villagers themselves burning. The smell of human and Neko skin chewed away at by a undiscriminating fire in turn chewed away at all who stood close enough to see the form of hands almost literally melting away. The horror on all the faces was reigned in by a shared politically stony face, one that kept them all from letting their true disgust shine through and possibly emptying a few stomachs in the bushes before the day was through. Beside Duo, while his hand shook out of rage, still clasped protectively by Heero's, the tall Khushrenada stood and surveyed the fire, not for the first time by the resignedly appalled expression.

"This is sick," Duo hissed in the face of the horrible silence that came over them. For all the warning he'd had, seeing this display stirred him up inevitably and his voice dripped with fury.

"Yes," Treize agreed calmly, his disgust in his even, unemotional tone. "Yes, it is. And this has been burning for approximately for forty-hours, by the earliest sightings of smoke, but unfortunately no one was able to reach this location for a day and put a end to this horrible massacre."

"So who ever did this must have stoked it before they left." A cold poison had entered Duo's voice-something he very, very rarely let slip out of emotion while doing his ambassador work. His hand squeezed Heero's like a vice grip and his teeth ground in the back of his mouth while he tried to keep from remembering the sensitive details of his own encounter with a bonfire of this horror. "Does anyone know who did this?"

"No," the dignitary answered solemnly. "Whoever did commit this atrocity this made very sure that they would not be so easily followed. The evidence had been handled completely with some sort of glove that prevented leaving any fingerprints for identification. Those that were left, whether on accident on not has not been determined, were far too smudged to be recognized."

"They're probably taunting you and your team. I wouldn't doubt they feel sickly proud of what they've done," Duo analyzed succinctly, his violet eyes narrowing and his hand separating from his husbands to pick up a stone from the earth covered in dried Dires blood and knead it in his hand. "I know they're taunting me with this fire," he said quietly, folding his hand over the stone and glaring back up at the flames. "I hate to admit it, but those bastards know how to cut to the quick."

"Ambassador Maxwell, if you're feeling uncomfortable or too emotional to keep your composure, you're more than welcome to take my jeep for an early return to Kimbasa," Treize offered without a second thought. "My men and I will be more than happy to handle this situation completely-"

"No, no thank you, Treize," Duo waved off with an anemic smile. "This is something I need to deal with. This is what I became an ambassador for-You don't need to worry about burdening yourself with all of this. It's my responsibility."

"I understand."

"Have you been able to put out any of the fire?"

"We've been trying, but it seems they soaked it with a flammable liquid that's nearly impossible to extinguish once lit and will burn nearly anything given the time."

"Including bones," Duo guessed grimly, his ikkunnoi flattened severely.

"Gasoline?" Heero asked, still staring grimly at the flames and trying not to lose his stomach watching the bloody forms amassed like bodies at a concentration camp.

"I would have smelled the gasoline from miles away. No, they used something natural, I can tell," Duo said, his suspicious stare narrowing, still watching the towering flame. "Has any one been able to contact Senator Peacecraft and inform him of this?"

"No, Senator Peacecraft is currently unavailable to speak; he's visiting a hospital for his father's heart operation. He won't be available for a few days at least." Khushrenada was also starting to show signs of compassionate sympathy and disgust seeping through his bright and polite expression. "He has provided a contact that may be used in times like these, if he needs to receive information exclusively, and we're currently setting up a line that will reach him from here."

"Well, that's convenient," Duo drawled in detest.

In the months that had passed since Duo had entered the politician world, more on an obligation than by choice, he'd been popular, yes, but he'd also been careful to keep all the details of how and why he'd come to be what he was a topic he didn't bring up much during meetings. Talking about his family had been slaughtered and therefore eventually leading him to sit beside and rub elbows with heads of state of countless countries and other dignitaries usually killed the mood. Sure, those who had followed him on the news as a criminal case knew, but it surprised him how many had not actually followed along, engrossed with their own work and sometimes just never turning the channel at the right time. Treize was one of those who vaguely could attach the one-eared Neko's face with the much-famed name Maxwell's Demon, but hadn't heard the dark story that had birthed him.

"Ambassador, are you suspecting Senator Peacecraft of having something to do with it?"

"No, I suspect him of doing everything but taking up a baseball bat himself and killing a few, that's what I think. If he did it once, it means unfortunately he can and just might do it again." His violet eyes were simmering quietly, glittering from the spark of the flames towering before him and from a deep resentment coming to burn again. "But I don't know. If it had been his little legion of devoted soldiers, this whole place would have been torched to get rid of evidence. I know they would not have left a chance to screw up." His cat-slit eyes narrowed distrustfully. "But they didn't screw up. That's what worries me."

"The death count, currently, is somewhere in the range of thirty-eight human beings and forty mixed persons. That's only the bodies we found that had not been taken to this incinerator or sorts. My men have estimated that somewhere near one-hundred-fifty to two-hundred were taken here and burned," Treize informed him gravely. "There's been no sign of survivors."

"If there were any, they'd be long gone by now," Duo murmured. "I barely had the heart to stay long enough to bury my parents and I had to run to avoid the soldiers for the second time, when they did sweeps of the forest looking for the scum they missed."

The loud crackling of the flame eating through things no one wanted to think of loomed over the silence, while it was destroying what had once been the population of the only Equatorial village known in existence, discovered only when it had been destroyed, and in one mocking gesture plunging them into true extinction. After a long and tense moment, Treize bowed his head respectfully and suggested politely that they should continue their conversation in another place and said that the ambassador and his husband must be hungry from their long ride. Heero nodded in thanks and was about to follow the dignitary and the rest of the politician to the main tent when Duo remained planted where he stood, his eyes lost in the flame.

He clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Duo? Are you alright?"

The one-eared Neko remained stone still where he stood, focused completely on the horrific fire before him and the smell of blood and burning flesh obsessing his mind. But the severe, suspicious and generally pissed expression he'd worn while trying to figure out if it had been another act of the Senator faded into something else very quickly. His ikkunnoi pricked forward at some sound and his eyes widened soon after that. He shrugged off Heero's hand by stepping forward, almost as if disbelieving what his senses had told him, and suddenly went about throwing off the tank top he wore and stuffing it in Heero's surprised hands.

"Duo? What the hell are you doing?" he asked, drawing the attention of Treize and the others, who had gone halfway down the slope to the encampment, and staring incredulously at his husband.

But the ex-con didn't say a word-he was far too busy hurrying to sloppily tie his budding braid of hair up against his head and striding toward the monstrous fire.

"Duo!"

And going headfirst into it. As much as it disgusted him, how much it stung at a wound in his heart to push the ashes and smoldering bones out of the way, he pushed forward inexplicably, clawing his way through the mass. The charred bodies and what was left of them tumbled to the ground, still hissing and with flame, and Duo grit his teeth determinedly just before he dove almost completely into the burning, blistering hell. Heero was already behind him and snapping at him, more confused and secretly terrified of just what the hell his husband was doing, but did not reach after to stop him. He could trust Duo, but the innate worry in him could not overlook that he'd just jumped into a fire. The footsteps of the politicians returning came back up the hill, considerably faster than when they had left.

"Ambassador Maxwell!" Treize said incredulously.

In an instant, Duo had lunged back out from the fire, moving so quickly that he staggered backwards into Heero and stumbled on his feet, something extremely rare for even a half-breed Neko. He coughed violently once and scratched the steaming hot coals and ashes off his face frantically with one are, the other clutched desperately around a small, wretched figure-a small, wretched, yowling figure. Heero exclaimed wordlessly in surprise and quickly slapped the ashes of Duo before they began to burn into his skin, leaving him chalked in charred black. Coughing again, and with a toddler-sized mixed Nekonese kit yowling and sobbing against his chest, clinging to him so fiercely his fingernails were drawing blood, he collapsed almost completely against Heero, overwhelmed with a flash of heat from the fire. The tiny soot-black kitten cried, clung to his savior, but at the same time struggled to get free of his arm, so frightened his terrified screaming didn't cease. Suspicious trails of smoke still wafted off his bare skin and the ragged remains of clothing that had managed to stay on his slight frame.

He staggered still, even as Heero held him upright, and his coughing continued, his entire body still feeling molten and agonized. He tried to steady himself and pull the Nekonese kitten he'd salvaged from the fire off him. "Come on, he needs helps," he choked out before coughing again, feeling like he might have accidentally inhaled some ashes. His face was scuffed with black and turning fierce red in other places from burns. His hair was equally blackened. "Take him, Heero!"

The other men and Treize were soon clustered tightly around Duo and one quickly pried the young survivor off the ambassador. His tiny, charred hands left bright red marks of blood where they'd clutched desperately at his savior and Duo automatically slumped back once the child had been whisked off for immediate medical attention, naturally falling back into the arms of the traveler when his head spun viciously. The heat had been immense, fire licking at him as he came close, and the fumes from the unidentified fueling liquid had been sickening and noxious. He felt himself being twisted around, his eyes squinting shut while his eyes still stung from the heat, and Heero's voice came to him amongst the sudden outburst of commotion around him.

"Are you alright?" His hand was carefully brushing the soot from his face and touching at the minor burn marks he'd received. Beneath those fingertips he felt his skin starting to already knit itself well. "Duo, what the hell were you thinking?"

"He might have died soon-I heard him crying, I couldn't leave him there-" He coughed again and wished he wasn't too stubborn to ask for some water while Heero helped steer him back down the hill. "Shit. You shouldn't be worried about me, I'll be fine. He's only a year old, and he's the one who's been in there for who knows how long."

Against the silhouette of smoke rising off the burning death of hundreds that had been happily living only days before, the bohemian slumped needily against the traveler, trying to brush off the concern while still clutching to his shirt, with a trail of blood from the tiny claw marks dripping down his bare stomach. Heero chuckled anxiously as he guided Duo toward the nearest tent, whispering to him that he'd really scared the shit out of him back there and making the one-eared Neko laugh tiredly as well.

It was an odd sight, an image that was almost difficult for Duo Maxwell, even with Heero Yuy standing at his side. Not even the traveler could erase the grim memories that had shaped the ex-criminal in his early days, the smell of blood and death that still came to him at times, unbidden, and to watch the young, shivering mixed Neko standing with a blanket thrown over his shoulder, falling to the floor around him, and keeping back a tearfully frightened expression with little success reminded him too much of himself. The only difference was he had had no one to comfort him, to heal his wounds, and certainly had seen no kind-hearted humans as these medics who attended him that could have softened his harsh distrust of the hienn race. It stung, in a jealous way, that he had suffered in a ditch, sobbing wildly but desperate to keep quiet should someone wonder by and run him through with a knife or put a bullet in his stomach; he felt suddenly jealous that this survivor would not have to hide in the forests, fearing for his life both from the soldiers and from the looming threat of starvation, that he would not grow up angry, vengeful, and hopelessly crushed by his mistrust. But he was glad too-the last thing the world needed was another Duo Maxwell looking for retaliation and the last thing that poor kid deserved was a life like his.

He wasn't a slight thing as Duo had been when he'd slunk, orphaned and scared to death of dying alone, out of the forest when the last soldier had left-he looked like he'd just had a fresh dinner of boiled meat and he'd never gone hungry, though by no standard was he overweight. His tiny hands were shivering nervously as he held him close to him, cautious of the human doctors who were carefully tending to his burns on his face. His radiant, sun-blonde hair and broad, cinnamon-color ikkunnoi suggested he was indeed an Equatorial and the slaughter of his village might very well make him the last existing one of his race. His skin was marred with burns and charcoal caked into his skin as well as the marks of an abusive soldier's fist about his face and head. While the doctors bustled around him, scrounging up a burn treatment from the supplies they'd brought along and attempting to soothe him all the while, trying in vain to wipe the tears from his young, bright blue eyes. When the young Equatorial glanced up and caught eyes with the two men standing in the opening of the tent, one a familiar scent and sporting a familiar feline appendage, they were blank and almost forlorn, sadly unjust to the capacity for joy they must have once held. But there was an underlying intelligence to it all that preserved in the face of great emotional devastation and one that made Duo's heart almost skip to see it.

He suddenly had to ask this child's name, to know the kitten he'd rescued from the fire and the one with the eyes of comprehension and quiet grace even in the face of death. One who'd survived the same dilemma as him and came out seemingly sadly noble and dignified for it. The doctors stepped aside to allow Duo room to crouch near the patchy, soot-black Equatorial, who was sitting on the edge of a medical cot, his blue eyes watching everything and the tears already ebbing bravely. He smelled, other than of smoke and blood, nearly purely Neko, but the two perfect human ears offset that. He couldn't have been more than a year old or more than a tenth hienn. And with his golden blonde hair and those intelligent eyes he seemed strangely beautiful, the ones that locked onto Duo's face, quickly able to tell him apart from the rest of the humans by the familiar ikkunnoi.

As was a tradition of Neko when greeting someone of respect, the tiny Nekonese kitten, while his burns and cuts were still being tending to, flattened his own feline ears back humbly and bowed his head slightly. Duo smiled warmly and returned the gesture as best he could with the one he had left. The kitten's intelligent eyes stared at his absent ikkunnoi and bowed again, a gesture reserved only for when addressing a nobly wounded Warrior. Duo was honestly surprised the child knew it, and flattered and proud at all the same time. He'd saved a very special kit and nothing but kindness came through his smile.

"Yiinnme, oina emtu," he said warmly. (Hello, little one.)

"Yii," the little one replied quietly. (Hi.)

"Ru dukkeinrou qui ne hyerra aakinoi, bu ne? Yoe rou?" (You look like a tough little guy, don't you? How are you doing?)

"Suo maki, dinme," he responded respectfully, his voice slightly worn from the formidable yowls he'd been giving off a few minutes ago. (I'm fine, I think.)

Duo affectionately scratched his cinnamon-furred ear and smiled again, nodding. "Aan. Wo, ri ejihubo su, oina emtu?" (That's good. So, what's your name, little one?)

"Rekke suo Quatre." (I'm Quatre.)

"Ne tre qui ia su wo?" ("Beloved son," huh?)

The blue-eyed Equatorial's eyes dimmed of their shining intelligence to be clouded momentarily with a doubt and tearful fear more typical of an average frightened kit, one more like the expression Duo had worn when he had experienced a similar horror. "Kukken-Ikkue yem qo rebu syiere uechin. Subu ne tre som umm-oina yem qo." (Yes-but now I have no parents. I am the son of no one now.)

"Cuchikyo bu de!" Duo said firmly, still comforting the poor child with a hand stroking his charred hair and broad, young feline ears. He slipped from his native tongue for a moment, swept by a flush of sudden emotion and a sudden brilliance to the memories of his own slain family. "That's not true at all," he repeated firmly. "You are always your mother and father's son, no matter what happens to you in life. That's one thing I know you can't run away from, and you should honor their memory just the same."

"But I did not help them," Quatre suddenly whispered in English, following suit of Duo's shift of tongues.

"You can already speak hienn?" the one-eared Neko marveled, his hands stilling against the back of the radiant blonde head, scorched black in ugly patches by a hateful fire, and staring into those intelligent but saddened blue eyes. The Equatorial nodded humbly and Duo's smile stretched broad. "Well, you're even smarter than I thought, Quatre. That's a wonderful accomplishment for someone your age. I didn't learn mine until I was three!"

"Thank you," the kitten whispered humbly, his intelligent eyes falling shyly down to the ground while a doctor lifting his bangs to examine the burn there.

Duo inched closer on his haunches so that, once the wound had been attended to and the rapid Nekonese healing process had begun to knit the skin together unseen, he could ruffle the young child's hair affectionately, anything to sympathize with little one who had gone through the same trauma as himself. Heero stood faithfully at Duo's side, leaning against a support pole and smiling softly as he watched protectively. The young, blue-eyed Neko twisted to face Duo as he soothingly petted his hair and it was obvious to see that intelligent gaze had already begun to work on the ex-con.

"Listen," he said quietly, the doctors hovering back to allow the ambassador the undivided attention he needed from the surviving Equatorial. "I know how difficult this has been for you, Quatre, but can you tell me who did this to your village? Can you tell me what happened?"

The tiny Neko bit at his lip apologetically and shook his head. "Someone hit my head and I don't remember anything until I felt fire and then your hand pulling me out of it."

"That's alright, Quatre. I won't force you to remember if you can't," Duo commended him, flashing him a genuine smile. "You should be proud of yourself that you made it out alive." When the kit made a sorrowful look in his direction, he softened his voice. "You see, I went through the same thing you did at about the same age. That's why I'm here now. I'm trying to find who did this to your family and your village. I'll make sure they get punished for what they've done."

"Is that how you lost your ear?"

Duo nodded.

"I'm-I'm sorry for you," Quatre said, his intelligent eyes scanning the older Neko's face. "This doesn't feel good at all," he grumbled pitifully at the end, bowing his head heavily and wrapping his arms around his elbows, still dressed in tatters beneath the blanket. "It's awful. I don't think it shouldn't happen to any more people."

Duo smiled gently and scratched once more at his endearing cinnamon ikkunnoi before lifting his hand to gently pat his head. "You're right. But now I think you should get some sleep. You probably feel as tired as I must look." He chuckled to himself and let the nurse standing nearby scoop him up in a boneless, exhausted bundle of skin and bones. Just before he was carried off to a neatly made cot in another cot, further from the horrifying stench of bodies burning, Duo winked at him with a smile and the drowsy, intelligent blue eyes smiled back as best they could. "Reicha-ri," he said. (See you later.)

"Reicha-ri," Quatre returned, scrapping up enough energy to tug the corners of his mouth into a little, innocent smile before he snuggled back against the nurse's chest and tried to sleep while she carried him away and out of the medical tent. The rest of the doctors, robbed of their only patient and with no other survivors to tend to, began carefully reorganizing all the supplies they'd plucked out back into their kits and talking sociably with each other, hardly mindful of the traveler and the bohemian remaining near the medic cot. The smell of burning flesh was becoming accustomed too, and not even the doctors noticed it anymore. It had permeated the tent, brought by the rescued kit and the ambassador who'd dove into the fire to retrieve him from the arms of death. After all, Duo felt Death owed him something, at least, despite cheating it not even a year ago in a little metropolis called Cinq City.

Heero remained tethered to Duo's side by a hand that had clasped his on impulse alone-his husband was far too immersed in a harrowing memory to even move and there he stood, gazing off into a burning village of his own, miles away in his mind. His intertwined fingers clenched suddenly, desperately, enough to nearly asphyxiate the traveler's hand, and Heero knew that Duo had reached an unpleasant point in his flashback. But hell, what part of that slaughter had been even the least bit pleasant? He twisted his hand free of Duo's death grip and clasped it over the back of his hand, rubbing his fingertips over Duo's tensed knuckles. Leaning onto his shoulder so that his chocolate brown hair brushed over his husband's hienn ears, Heero drew him out of his trance and away from the sight of murders burned into his mind of younger, darker days.

"Duo," he whispered. "Earth to Duo. Come back to me, my bohemian."

Eventually, his violet eyes stirred with their normal life and turned toward Heero with a mild confusion, like waking from a shallow dream. "Hmm?" he hummed casually, trying to feign as if it'd never happened, as if he hadn't been caught dreaming darkly again in the broad daylight. Heero lifted his head from his shoulder but did not move away from him, watching the expression on Duo's face shift to hide the fact he'd let memory consume him again and nightmares were sure to follow that night. "What? What is it?"

When Heero didn't speak, only raised an eyebrow slightly in the face of his forced nonchalance, he sighed and let his eyelids droop. "I know, I know I shouldn't-"

The traveler gently guided an arm around Duo's back and his hand twisted up to touch the growing braid a little while he gave him a good, slow, comforting kiss to wipe the careworn expression off his face. He didn't care of who was watching them, he only cared of the bohemian he loved and over the time he'd actually been allowed to see the truth in the con man, the humanity in a half-breed, he'd grown out of some of his self-consciousness and learned to show his affection when not even completely alone. It was something Duo enjoyed and often needed during the wearing work days, but had taken a lot of coaxing of the shell for Heero to accomplish. A lazy smile had wound its way onto Duo's mouth when Heero pulled away and some of the memory had faded, at least for the moment.

At the same time, the fabric of the tent door peeled open and the tall figure of Khushrenada was bent beside it, his universally congenial face peering inside. "Ambassador Maxwell," he said, remaining at the door, "I'm sorry to call you to work, but there are some things that we need to discuss urgently."

"Yeah, I understand. I'll be right there," he nodded, too comfortable at the moment to unwind himself from the traveler or pull away from him; rather he groaned into the crook of his husband's neck unhappily and forced himself to let go of Heero. "Duty sounds her bugle once again," Duo drawled and they both chuckled.

They gave each other one last peck of the lips before separating and walking over the unlevel grass floor beneath their feet to the door. Duo was inevitably swept off into his affairs, and he cursed mentally ever agreeing to becoming a politician when he hardly had the sheer emotional and mental stamina to be such a thing, hiking up a hill beside Treize, talking with him about a very serious topic, and kneading at a knot in his back with a hand all at once.

Heero watched the fire, raging on proudly, with no intention of waning soon, and the beautiful sparks it sent up against the black sky once the sun had slipped out of sight. Sparks that were burning ashes that had once been a family, a village, and an entire clan and now twirled around weightlessly on the breeze. He couldn't smell the horrible pungency of death as strongly as Duo, but he still could, and he was grateful he didn't have a nose as keen as his husband's, standing there, watching the men and women of the camp still doggedly throwing water onto the fire and achieving little. Weary of staring into the flames, Heero turned and started to trek off for bed, heading uphill and upwind of the bon fire. As he walked far enough up the incline, stepping through untamed brush on his way toward the tent nestled further up, he could see the charming dignitary Treize Khushrenada gazing deeply into the flames as well, turning his auburn hair a fiery red and painting his regal face similar. He caught sight of Heero walking by out of the corner of his eye and smiled at him respectfully.

"Have a good night's rest, Mr. Maxwell-Yuy," he bid him politely.

"Thanks. You too, Mr. Khushrenada," Heero said, pausing in his uphill trek. "Don't stare into the fire too long, now. I couldn't do it for too long-it'll wear out your eyes."

"Thank you for that advice." He smirked, folding his arms casually and turning his gaze back to the crackling flames. "I was just thinking deeply, that's all."

"That's the tiring part," Heero chuckled and with a final, saluting nod to the dignitary, the traveler was on his way towards the dark, meager little tent that had been set up, cradled by jungle and safely upwind of the smell of burning flesh. In concern of Duo, he'd requested that they be able to set up their own sleeping quarters away from any breeze that might carry the scent of death to their tent.

And also keeping that concern in mind, Heero crept into the tent in utmost silence, knowing that his husband would be dead asleep after a long day of political dealings and terrorizing memories. Sure enough, as soon as he slunk through the fabric door and tied it close behind him, he saw the one-eared Neko dreaming on the narrow cot to the right, sprawled across it as if he'd simply fallen asleep where he'd fell. It wouldn't have surprised Heero. His face softened with a tender smile while he watched Duo lay there, doused in a drowsy blue shade of shadow, utterly exhausted by the day once again. He hardly even moved in his sleep-usually he could be counted on to kick the covers off, or mutter in Nekonese in his sleep-and the traveler decided not to disturb him. The person who had provided them furniture and a portable gas stove to furnish their sleeping quarters had brought two of the confined cots and Heero threw a pillow onto the left one, separated from Duo's by only a foot-wide spread.

Birds twittered sleepily outside the tent and the occasional wondering animal or warm breeze would rustle the thick foliage surrounding them, though Heero wasn't bothered to worry. The moon had crept out into its lonesome throne of stars and the khaki fabric of the tent was splashed with the shadows of the trees rustling overhead, giving it an odd, midnight in the garden sensation but appropriately beautiful to watch the one-eared Neko slumber, his hair undone and his face buried into his arm, spread out on his stomach. His singular ikkunnoi twitched instinctively, a sleepy habit more than sign of wakefulness.

Heero watched how the bluish light seeping through painted Duo's bare shoulders with a sigh, wishing he were as deathly silent as his husband so that he could slip in with him without waking him, without alerting those inhuman senses. But he was content to be there with Duo, at any rate; after all, there'd been a horrible dark point in his life where he couldn't have imagined seeing the bohemian alive again, let alone coming home to him every night and his genuine smiles. He felt fine watching over Duo while he slept, though he craved to lay there with him. He snatched up a blanket from underneath his own cot and spread it out, standing in the thin corridor between the two beds, and began to kick off his boots and peel off his shirt. He jolted suddenly when he heard a drowsy voice from behind him. Duo gave him a soft, "Hey," blinking the sleep from his eyes unsuccessfully, sitting up on the cot, and squinting at the traveler. "What do you think you're doing, 'eero?" His voice was gravelly and worn from all the politic chitchat of the day.

Heero turned around, his shirt halfway pulled off his back, and said quietly, "Nothing. I didn't want to wake you up."

"'s not a problem," he grumbled drowsily. "I can't quite make it to Dreamland, so don't worry about it. Now, what do you think you're doing over there?" The traveler had neatly nudged his boots beneath the opposite cot with his baretoes and tossed his shirt into a chair sitting at the foot of the bed. Duo's lethargic gaze blinked semi-awake and his cat-slit eyes, glowing lightly as if filled with violet embers in the moonlight, narrowed at the traveler's bare back.

"Don't even think about sleeping there, traveler," he said with a lazy drawl, reaching up to put his arm around Heero's stomach and pull him back toward him. His wearied face pressed against the warmth of his back and he clenched him tighter, his breath rolling over his skin. "You wouldn't be bothering me if you woke me up, you idiot, I'm your husband. I married you because I wanted to sleep next to you every night. In fact, that ring on your finger makes it my right to. Now get your skinny ass over here and get in bed with me, where you belong."

The traveler chuckled richly, so that Duo could feel it resonating through his whole body from his comfortable position kissing his back, and turned around to face the bohemian. "That's why? And here I was convinced you only married me for my money," he whispered slyly, while the one-eared Neko nuzzled yearningly against his stomach in the same half-waking manner, still dragging him down to the cot with an arm around his back.

"Ha. I don't need no money; I need you," he slurred drowsily. "Wait a minute, hold up. What's the password, traveler?"

Heero chuckled and busied the once-thieving bohemian's mouth with a kiss while he slipped into bed beside him, stealing his way beneath the blanket Duo had tried to hog to himself. Duo snorted when they parted and said, as the traveler turned over onto his side and the one-eared Neko wrapped possessively around his back, "That's good enough for me." After a moment of getting situated comfortably, he rested his head against Heero's neck and inhaled sleepily, savoring the moments he could catch the natural intoxicating aroma of his hienn lover beneath his cologne and shampoo.

The traveler clasped his hands comfortably over the bohemian's arms, pinioning him into a warm, pleasurable tangle of limbs. "Are you alright, Duo?"

"Yeah," he whispered back lazily, nuzzling his face into his shoulder, hoping to uncover an expressway to deep, gorgeous sleep there. "I'm fine, I'm peachy, whatever you want to call it."

"Can you still smell the fire?" His fingers toyed softly with Duo's as he spoke quietly, with the buzzing of the dozing forest swelling around them and making a vibrant kind of silence.

A tingling short breath brushed over the back of the young Japanese man's neck as the ex-con gave a little, morbid snort. "That smell of burning flesh never really leaves me completely, 'eero, but I probably can't expect it to. It's better when you're here, though. I'll be just fine if you stay with me," he murmured warmly at the end, kissing at his jaw serenely, in just the way a Heero imagined a languishing tabby might and in a way he was silently enraptured by.

"But you still can't get the memory out of your mind, can you?" he whispered, rubbing his fingertips soothingly over the back of the ex-criminal's hands.

"No," he sighed heavily, falling into a silence while he rested his head on Heero's shoulder. For a while, he didn't say anything, and they both just thrived on the heat and serenity of their bodies pressed against each other, contrasted by the lonely thoughts that still sometimes plagued them both of when they had been apart. Finally, he felt Duo draw in another deep breath and sigh it out, closing his eyes while he spoke quietly. "But I'll never be perfect again, though. No matter how much you try to heal me, traveler, there'll always be a few cracks, a few blemishes that won't wipe clean. There'll always be a scar left there, in my mind." Heero felt him squeeze around him grievously.

"The day doesn't go by that I don't think of my family and their murders, that my scar of my ikkunnoi doesn't ache a little." He snorted quietly against Heero's back, burying his face between his shoulder blades, craving the unconditional comfort from him. "I reopen the wounds every day-and poor you, I depend on you to close them every night."

"It a job I definitely don't mind, though," he whispered reverently in return, relishing whatever little happiness he could draw out of Duo to counteract the sorrow in his voice. He did, chuckling with his breath ghosting over his back, and reclaimed his original position, nuzzling against his shoulder and trying to find sleep again. But a second later the silence returned, and Heero could feel the worried expression on the one-eared Neko's face. He turned over on the cot, unfortunately having to break free of the arms wrapped around him, but had the pleasure of being able to put his arms around Duo. Those violet eyes watched him, blinking heavily, and for a second, Heero hesitated and just stared back.

"If it's what you really want, Duo, do it. I'd be more than happy to take him in with us," he said, his deep blue eyes scanning the bohemian's face.

Duo sighed, knowing that Heero could read what was on his mind almost as clearly as if he had spoken it from his lips, and hesitated uncertainly. "I didn't know if you'd want to adopt a kid or anything like that, Heero. I mean, we've only been married for eight months and if you're not comfortable with having kids of any kind, that's fine, I mean, I was just thinking about it. Doesn't mean it's in print already or that it's anything I'm heartset on getting, or anything. I'm not trying to guilt-trip you into it, Heero."

"No," he agreed with an amused smirk, "you're too busy trying to guilt trip yourself out of it." A sublime smile consumed his face as he found Duo's hand somewhere beneath the flimsy blanket they shared and intertwined their fingers firmly. "But it's important to you Duo, and I said I'd take my share, so no matter what it is, I'll carry it. Can't go back on that word, otherwise I'd be a liar, and I know from personal experience how much you hate those," he added with a sly twist to his smile. "I was so afraid I'd lost you and my hope for new life been laid to rest with you that I felt like I had become the walking dead. We're both running on our second chances, so I think the least we can do is give Quatre his own second chance. He deserves it just as much as you, as any of us, and if we don't give it to him, he may not get it. That's something I've learned well. Besides, he really seems to like you."

"You really mean that?" It took a moment for the ecstatic expression to rise out of Duo's mild surprise and make his already glowing smile seem almost unbearably thrilled, but it happened. He kissed Heero again, something he never could find himself tiring off, and pulled back with a breathless grin, cradling the young Japanese man's face in both his hands, his delight practically purring in his throat. "You beautiful bastard, you," he drawled happily. "You know, that night in the gypsy tent when I first met you, I didn't think you were capable of producing more than three or four sentences at once, let alone ones of passion."

Heero's own smile flashed in return. Not even a year ago, such an expression would have been an impossibility; even an urge to do so would have swallowed wholly by the black chasm in his life that generally prevented him from doing so. There would have been no smile on the Peacecraft's daughter's face that would have inspired such a reaction, nor a joke or beautiful verse that would have pierced the thick shell of impassivity that he'd built up over the years, unwitting to the suffocation it would provide. There was nothing that had gotten through to him save the tragic violence and beauty of the con man who'd come to him by first robbing (and seducing) him blind. How strange it was to think, sometimes, it'd taken a fellow lost soul to find solid ground again and put a song in his heart.

And even though the moment passed me by

I still can't turn away

'Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose

Get tossed along the way

And letters that you never meant to send

Get lost or thrown away

"I didn't think you were capable of giving me a sincere smile. But luckily, I've been disproved."

"And so have I," Duo purred, leaning in closer. "And I like it that way."

And now we're grown up orphans

That never knew their names

We don't belong to no one

That's a shame

Far from the carnival where the whole endeavor of Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy had begun, far from the most familiar places they had seen, something that had been started crept a little closer to its rightful and most apropos conclusion, but they still remained somewhere in the journey, for the end for them would not come just yet. Things had a fighting chance this time in the world, so the world seemed all the better. The world was all the better, in a way.

But if you could hide beside me

Maybe for a while

And I won't tell no one your name

I won't tell 'em your name

Some time later, a soft and tender voice raised in the shadows in which two young bodies slept close. "You asked me once if you had changed for the better, remember, traveler?"

"Yeah. I remember."

"Is that how you still feel?"

In the darkness of the sleeping night, the silence could hear the rich laugh of the young man rolling out as he pulled closer to his lover. "The real question is-How could have opening up my horizons been bad?"

Fin

|| Soundtrack ||

"Animal"

"Star Me Kitten"

"What's the Frequency, Kenneth?"

"Nightswimming"

R.E.M.

"Miss You"

"Rock and a Hard Place"

"Harlem Shuffle"

The Rolling Stones

"Twentysomething"

"All at Sea"

Jamie Cullum

"The Long and Winding Road"

"Help!"

The Beatles

"Name"

Goo Goo Dolls

"Bohemian Rhapsody"

Queen

"Float"

Bush

"Spies"

Coldplay

"Evil-Hearted You"

The Pixies

"Lithium"

Nirvana

"Moscas En La Casa"

Shakira

"Walk Tall"

John Mellencamp

"Big-Eyed Fish"

Dave Matthews Band

"Can't Do a Thing"

Chris Issak

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams"

Green Day

[Author's Note]

Before the nostalgia-in-advance strikes me, I think it's time for the last words I'll write of "The One-Eared Neko." As someone requested, I'll first lay down the status of the other stories I'm working on. Keep in mind, even if I say that I've let go of a story, that might not be necessarily true. If it really deserves to be written, I just might pick it up again, so don't be too disappoint if I do. Anyway, here we go.

"Pedigree," will definitely be written, though I don't know when I'll begin writing it. You can be sure, if the last chapters of Neko were any indication, the continuation is going to be one hell of a long story. The contest that first spurred me on to write this story ended months ago and only required 25,000 words. I'm currently at roughly 140,000. Well, the story had to be told! Anyway, I should get on with this.

"My Shinigami, My Hamburger" is most definitely not over with! You of all people should know you can't kill a God of Death, especially not one as adorable as Shini! This is a long-running story with many arcs in planning. In fact, as soon as I finish posting this and give my poor brain that's been squeezed like a orange for the last few year trying to get his story down the best I could a break, I'll be right back on finishing the first arc of MSMH. It's going to be my on-going tribute to the Gundam Wing fandom, so don't worry if your concerned about me dropping it anytime soon.

"Billiard Brats" is really out on a wire. It didn't have as many readers, but that's not the reason I stopped updating it for a considerable amount of time. Like ".45 Colt War", it was written on this whim I had and now it's impossible to get back the same feel of writing I had. But that doesn't mean its dead. I really do want it to be finished, but I think I may end up doing a re-write later on. So, mark that one as on hiatus.

And, last but definitely not the least, "Twelve."

"Twelve" is a very delicate situation. I love the story, I really do. I relish the tension between Heero and Duo and the way they can be so complementary of each other without even trying, practically made for each other, and still unable to see it or accept it without causing a world of trouble. But it's a story that's just as, if not, emotional and mentally draining to do well. And I've kind of gotten out of the rhythm of writing it, which is essential to me. The way I write well is to find a certain rhythm to a story and immerse myself so much that it's like I'm not really writing, I'm just imagining the story and putting it down. I know it sounds weird, but that's the way it works for me. I have to get so familiar with the characters and so deep into their psyche that I don't even know that I'm there to get a certain flow to my words. I feel like I've lost that for Twelve, or just misplaced it. I desperately want to continue it, but I'm not sure how able I am at the moment. I feel ready to take a year's vacation, sleeping in the mountains somewhere. And currently I've got a few short stories that itching to get out while they have the chance, before I get involved in another big project. "Twelve" is not dead by any means, but I don't know when I'll be able to finish it, if it at all. I apologize wholeheartedly to all those who were waiting for me to update and all those I've disappointed by not doing so. Like I said, maybe I'll get another surge to write, but right now I'm feeling ready to drop. My motto is to take things as you go along, so don't loose hope for an update. I know, I know, I suck and I probably haven't given anyone a clear answer like they wanted-but I really mean that exhaustion thing. I've got my mother's bad back and a tendency to get a little too emotionally involved in things I start and get drained (Even in gym class. Think "Teen Spirit" Heero Yuy on the lacrosse field, but with less upperbody strength, minus the killing record, and plus one very Irish temper). Oh, and I just noticed this. I meant the title of "Twelve" as in the twelve days of Christmas, but if you put Heero and Duo's numbers side by side you get 12. I only noticed that a little while ago. Is that sad? ^_^ Anyhoo…

Thank you Animegoil, Memeal, Link Worshiper, ZmajGoddess, Silver Cateyes, Kichiko, Rashalla Entalio, Nikkler, Pia Bartolini, Oliversgurl, ahanchan, Chibi Neko Sakura, White Raven6, Shinko Ryusei, Trio Wing, Taylor Mercury, gatogirl1, Dark Sadistic Angel, Genki-Rei-Chan, NeNa, Bane's Desire, Dyna D, Jinn, aspiring author, Shitae Tenshi, Omega Night, priscel, ~Esukafruone~, Shallow Syn, muchacha, Ibuki, Azrael121, Malik Fan 03, jess-eklom, Meliza Mac and all my other readers for all the continuous support you guys have given me and this story. You really inspired me to continue and I can't love you guys more for it. Thank you again, and to repay you for all your support, I think I'll have to write you an even better one!

Ciao.

~ Kaitsurinu