Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Two Sides of a Coin ❯ chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimers: I own nothing. As if anyone would bother to find me just to sue me. Nevertheless…

 

Rating: umm… not sure. R? NC-17? Isn't there a new rating system? Read and figure it by yourself.

 

Pairings: 2x1 (yay!!! I *love* this pairing and anything else that is x1), othersx1 and a lot more.

 

Spoilers: Some evil, *evil* characters, Alternative Universe, OOCness and… oh! What the hell… if you don't like what you read, then flame me! It's not like it would hurt. I'm just writing for my pleasure (which usually centers on screwing Yuy's life) and that's all!

 

 

 

ONE

 

The slender, black-haired man's footsteps slowed down reverently as he approached the glowing orb that floated above the marble pedestal. The man stopped right before the pedestal, the only object inside the circular room aside from the glowing orb that floated above it. Prussian-blue eyes stared as the orb rose upwards until it reached the fey human's eye-level. The young man stared at the orb for a long moment, and for any onlooker, it would seem as if the orb stared back, flickering and pulsing with different shades of blue.

 

The man reached out with both hands to hold the orb, only to pause as another pair of footsteps echoed all over the bare hall.

 

“Roe?!”

 

The man flinched as his name - even if a merely assumed name at that - was exclaimed by the man to whom he had given himself by necessity; the man who is King of Srafia through murder, his way paved by the death of Heero's parents, the gentle and beautiful Queen Elyna and the notoriously cruel King Trent.

 

“How did you get in here?” the usurper, Sloane Xenne, asked.

 

Heero smirked inwardly, his hands falling to his sides although he continued to stare at the orb. What a foolish question! But then again, Sloane is stupid for not figuring it out yet. The doors to the chamber are sealed by magic and only Srafian Royalty could enter. Obvious, he is royalty, albeit, an exiled-presumed-to-be-dead royalty. It does not matter either way. The orb considered him to be its rightful owner. Only he could control it. Ever since he was fifteen. Nothing has changed.

 

A large hand was about to lie heavily on his shoulder, with the apparent intent to turn him about. Heero have had enough of this man touching him. He would never touch him again.

 

Heero spun around and punched the darkened face. Sloane felt himself lift and fall unto his back.

 

“What --- how --- you…” Heero openly smirked at the man's stuttering.

 

Sloane shivered involuntarily at the dark expression on Roe's face. He never expected this from his lover. He also never expected that the slender, fragile-seeming sword dancer could be that strong. By then, Sloane had come to the conclusion that the man he had taken for a lover two months ago is not what he purported to be.

 

“Who are you?” Sloane slowly got to his feet, Roe - the pretender --- approaching him with a dancer's grace and that mirthless smirk on his lips. Another punch straight to his nose, delivered so swiftly he didn't even see it until he felt his eyes water because of the pain.

 

“The first one was for my father, even if I hated him,” the man spoke softly, unemotionally… beautifully. Even now, Sloane still finds himself enticed by everything about this young man… “Your father…?!”

 

“The second was for my mother, the one person who didn't deserve her fate.”

 

Sloane tried to crawl backwards. The young man kept approaching, his face now contorted with grief and anger. “My mother was so gentle. She wouldn't be a hindrance to your ascendance. You were already married to my sister!” the young man's soft tone broke with the last sentence. “You still have to rape her, don't you? My sister is not enough; you still have to take our mother…”

 

Sloane gasped. This! This is Heero Yuy?! But he is supposed to be dead! When Sloane and the guards left him outside the gates of Srafia, they left him for dead. How could he have been blind not to recognize the exiled prince? Granted, the hair had changed, but the eyes are the same prussian-blue. Oh yes, the body… Before Heero Yuy was exiled five years ago, he was just a developing seventeen-year old. Heero had been attractive even then, but not like this sensual, beautiful creature before him…

 

Sloane wondered if how much of the sensuality that Heero had shown as Roe is true.

 

“Get up! Fight me like a man!” Sloane smiled and slowly got on his feet again. It seems that that is not an act. Roe is not that all different from Heero Yuy after all.

 

Sloane slipped the dagger hidden on his back beneath his purple tunic and swiftly attacked the small man before him. He knew that his skill in combat is greater than Heero. He had seen him train when he was seventeen after all, and he is six years older.

 

“You are too cocky.” Heero's taunting voice as the annoying, seductive man danced to his side, bringing up a hand to grab his hand and remove the dagger from his grasp like water. Before Sloane could break his momentum, the dagger was already pressed to his neck with Heero behind him.

 

“Even when I was seventeen, I never bothered to show off. Master J taught me well, and you were all weak anyway.” The dagger was removed from his neck only to be plunged on his left thigh. Sloane couldn't stop the scream that tore past his throat, nor his fall.

 

The slender man stepped around him and went straight for the orb that he had been staring at when he entered. Pale arms reached forward, and the swirling mass of various blues settled down into prussian-blue in the cupped white hands.

 

Sloane was momentarily forgotten. All that mattered to Heero right now is the orb on his hands. This was what drained him of energy for five years. He didn't come here for vengeance as much as he craved it. He came here to take Wing Zero. In any man's hand, Wing Zero is a powerful, uncontrollable force that could down an entire city. Only one person could control it… him, and it was all because of Master J's mental training.

 

Heero turned to face his enemy again. He was done with talking.

 

Heero raised the orb to his heart. “Power beholden by many, controlled by none. I offer myself for your dwelling…” Heero pressed the orb to his heart, and it began to sink, passing cloth into his flesh… “in exchange for power over you. I will not use you for myself, this I vow, but only for the greater good. You are me and I am you, and so it shall be, Wing Zero!”

 

Sloane gasped at the vision before him. Heero glowed, and his long hair and clothes floated around him as if he is submerged in water, the black hair returning to their original dark brown. The hair also shortened, but that is all. Nothing more changed, except that Heero… This can't be! Had he just made himself one with Wing Zero? With that entity that he, Sloane Xenne, couldn't even touch? That even Heero's father had a hard time controlling? Just who is this man?

 

The light faded, and Heero once again stood in front of him. The man sat down on his hunches with that innate gracefulness. Sloane couldn't take his eyes away from the chiseled, pale face even with the excruciating pain that spread on his thigh.

 

“I would love to torture you as you did to me back then. I would love to inflict the pain that you gave my mother. But the Shinigami-King is at your doors even at this moment. Coward that you are, thousands of my people would die. I would not allow it, but I would still have you die painfully.”

 

Heero reached out a silk-covered arm, his hand even paler against the dark-blue sleeve. A deeper, darker shade of blue that it is almost black flowed out from Heero's palm straight into Sloane's forehead.

 

A few moments later, a pale, slender man with short, brown hair and prussian-blue eyes stepped out of the charmed chambers like a wraith, accompanied by agonized shrieks that pierced the silence from within the chambers.

 

o*_*o

 

Heero felt a sharp blade pressed on his back as he stepped into the room.

 

“It's me,” he said needlessly. The tall man behind him had already sheathed the blade. In a few moments, Heero found himself grasped by the shoulders and staring at solemn emerald-green eyes.

 

“Are you alright?” the usually emotionless man asked with too many emotions on his voice. Heero pondered this over as the green eyes looked him over, taking in the short, brown hair. It is the only change that occurred on his appearance since he has taken in the Wing Zero.

 

Heero nodded. “This is my real appearance,” he explained to the wondering gaze. Trowa nodded, facial expression becoming blank as easily as his hair falls to cover the left green eye.

 

“Heero?” a disbelieving, female voice floated faintly towards the two men. Heero turned to see his sister, Relena, walk towards him hesitatingly. “Is it really you, Heero?”

 

Heero smiled and nodded. Relena covered the remaining distance between them quickly and flung herself into his arms, sobbing violently.

 

“All this time… you… you were Roe. Why didn't you tell me?! For four months!... how could I not recognize you?! And why didn't you tell me? I thought you were dead!”

 

Heero caressed Relena's blond tresses and allowed her to rant, smiling sorrowfully at each disjointed sentence.

 

“I'm sorry Relena. But I needed to do what I did. I wanted to tell you but there is a big thing that is at stake here… what?!” Heero exclaimed the last word.

 

“The Wing Zero,” Relena repeated, more loudly and firmly. Light-blue eyes stared at prussian-blue ones. Heero stared back, then his gaze shifted to the woman standing behind Relena.

 

“You told her.”

 

The blond woman merely nodded at the accusation, cunning eyes never giving in under Heero's anger. “Her majesty deserves to know,” Dorothy smiled. Heero couldn't help thinking that it is like the smile of a wolf. “Don't worry. I only told here a while ago when you were… busy. So did you get it? And Sloane?”

 

“His still alive. I left him in the Zero chamber,” Heero answered, hoping that his sister wouldn't understand what it implied.

 

She did. Heero couldn't help but feel sorrowful at the curious wisdom in her eyes.

 

“You have changed.” Heero couldn't help the sadness.

 

Relena smiled. “It had been five years.” A pause, then at attempt at lightening the heaviness in the air. “I am older for two years you know. Stop treating me like a child, otherwise…” the playful threat hung in the air. Heero smiled to show his appreciation at the attempt. The frown returned soon afterwards.

 

Relena sighed. Yes, she is older for two years, so why did she feel like a child in front of her brother. Drat it. It is Heero's fault somehow. He treats her like a child!

 

“Stop it Heero. I_am_not_a_child! If you keep acting like this, I'm going to...” Relena's threat hung in the air as a small figure from the bed chambers appeared.

 

“Mommy… Roe?” the seven year old piped in inquiringly.

 

Heero turned to watch his usually exuberant nephew approach them sluggishly. It seems that they disturbed his sleep.

“Good evening, Odin. Did we wake you? It's about time you wake up anyway.” Heero smiled at the boy, kneeling down to ruffle the tousled, blond hair and then hugging the small boy. Heero knew that he did this partly to comfort the boy as well as to stop the conversation.

 

It is getting much too uncomfortable and sad. To explain himself would be to explain Master J and the Wing Zero. Relena does not understand the great extent of the powers of the Wing Zero, but she must have at least an idea about it. To tell her… and Trowa who remained silent in the corner… would be to put himself in a difficult position that they really do not need right now.

 

Trowa and Relena stared at the crouched figure hugging the boy, while Dorothy watched them. Dorothy shook her head inwardly, noting the love and silent adoration in both gazes. She felt sorry for them somehow, but most of her sympathy goes to Heero.

 

“What happened to your hair, Roe? Its gone!” the childish voice became plaintive, complaining the loss of the luxuriant long tresses.

 

Heero laughed. His nephew is now wakening completely. “This is my real hair, Odin. It's just the same, except that it's brown and shorter.”

 

The stubborn little child shook his head. “No it's not. It is much, _much_, shorter. It doesn't matter that it's brown. It now looks like chocolate. But it's short!” the boy continued on to wail.

 

Heero laughed again, for real. “Very well then. If you promise to be a good boy and do everything that your mother tells you, then I promise to grow my hair.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I _promise_. By the time that we meet again, it will be as long as…” Heero paused, feeling the sudden tension that came over Relena and Trowa as soon as they heard the slip. “…alright, go with Dorothy and change, okay. I still have to talk with your mother and Trowa.”

 

Odin seems ready to rebel, but one look at Dorothy and Heero's face had him complying silently. Dorothy locked eyes with Heero for a while, then she returned her gaze to Trowa and then Relena. She flinched inwardly, reading the questions and accusations at their gazes. Oh well, they have to know anyways.

 

“What do you mean?” Relena demanded as soon as her son and the blond gypsy --- who _seems_ to know everything --- disappeared back into the bed chambers.

 

Heero stood up. A commanding air now surrounds him. “The horses have all been prepared. We will follow the plans. Trowa, you will lead. I thank you now for promising to bring them to Sandrock…” Heero's voice faded as he saw the anger and hurt lurking behind the emerald-green eyes. Heero cursed himself silently. He knew how the other man felt for him. He tried to prevent it, but he failed. All that he could do now was to explain. He couldn't leave things as it is again. Look at the consequences of that action: one enraged Shinigami-king and war brought by Methru against Srafia.

 

Heero turned to look at his sister. The anger and hurt are there too. But Relena is his sister, and somehow, blood sometimes prevails over the emotions --- sometimes. Heero returned his gaze to Trowa.

 

“Trowa, thank you for everything that you have done for me. I do not know how to repay you for everything, and yet I have another favor to ask of you … please take care of my sister and nephew.”

 

Trowa and Relena both opened their mouths, wanting to speak, to protest. But Heero would not hear any of it. He turned his back to them and they all stared at the portrait of King Trent, his face bordering to handsome despite his old age except for the mocking smirk on his mouth and the cruel gleam on his almost colorless eyes. Trowa had long decided that the man in the portrait is a perfect reflection of the real man.

 

“My people had suffered long enough under the rule of our family. I will not have them suffer again and die because of this war. Giving myself up to the King of Methru is not enough t o atone for the sins of our ancestors.”

 

“What?!” Heero remained impassive despite the loud outbursts from two distinctly different voices.

 

In a few long strides, Trowa covered the distance between them, beating Relena to it. Like earlier before, he again grasped Heero's shoulders to make the man face him. “Giving yourself up to the Shinigami-king?!” Trowa struggled to calm himself down, even if only on the surface. “Heero, don't you think that you would be doing your people more service by staying alive?”

 

Heero smiled sorrowfully. Relena and Trowa suddenly got the feeling that what comes next wouldn't be good. It wasn't, especially for him.

 

“The Shinigami-king, Duo… he won't kill me. I was… he was my lover. This war is somehow is my fault. I broke his trust. I think he wants me back.”

 

Trowa scowled even more deeply. Anger and resentment against Heero began to burn and burrow itself deeply within his heart. He felt used. It was in Methru that Heero came to them as a sword-dancer. He was intrigued by the man, and then he discovered who he really is. He decided to help the exiled prince return to the Srafian palace because he had begun to respect and think highly of him. He also has begun to feel something deeper, unexplainable, for this slender, beautiful, _scheming_, _lying_, man.

 

“I see.” Trowa wondered coldly if how much of the passion and reluctance that he had seen from Heero when he was wooing him were real. The question is quite obvious in his voice. Heero flinched.

 

Trowa let go of the bony shoulders, dropping his hands to his sides as if he loathed touching Heero again.

 

“What is it with you and giving yourself to men, hmmm, Heero?” Trowa marveled at the callousness in Relena's voice. Some part of him agreed with the question, while some deeper part that still retained its love for Heero sorrowed, knowing for some unexplainable reason that it cut the prince deeply.

 

A sharp, almost inhuman laugh echoed all over the room. “Perhaps because they wanted my body. And of course, since it's easier to control them if I give myself to them. It's easy actually. They think that they have power over me, and they let their guards down for me to manipulate them. It worked so far didn't it? I now have the greatest power within me… that is the reason why I came here, actually. Only for Wing Zero. Now, if you want to escape before the Shinigami-king or the Srafians finally come barging in, I suggest that you prepare now.”

 

Heero left, following Dorothy and Odin. He knew that he was babbling. He couldn't help it. And now he wanted to cry. He felt the Wing Zero shift within him, feeding on his anguish and sorrow, pulsing darkly in the process. Great, he only merged with Wing Zero a few hours ago and he is now losing control of it. If he didn't try harder, not only Srafia, but the whole world would be falling to nothing but rubbles and mounds of ash.

 

“Heero sat on Relena's bed, not caring as Dorothy and Odin looked at him with sorry and startled gazes respectively. Heero couldn't stop the tears or the sobs. A few moments later, he is an uncontrollable, shaking wreck.

 

He whimpered as long arms wrapped themselves around him, maneuvering him into a soft chest. Somehow, Heero remembered his mother.

 

“They couldn't understand. Why couldn't they understand? I have no choice. If anyone, _anyone_, tries to use the Wing Zero personally, everything would be destroyed. It is all that I could do. Trying to control Wing Zero from Methru had drained me of energy as it is… oh Dorothy… why do you understand and they couldn't? I love them all…” Heero stopped as small hands placed themselves around his chest and a small head lay on his back.

 

“I love you, Roe,” the childish voice whispered. Heero could only smile, his anguish becoming lighter and easier to control.

 

“Thank you, Odin. And you know, you could call me Heero. It's my real name actually,” Heero untangled himself from Dorothy's and Odin's embrace to smile fully at the boy.

 

The boy nodded uncaringly. “But could I just call you Roe. It's shorter,” the boy bargained.

 

Heero laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. A hand lay on his shoulder, and Heero turned to look questioningly at Dorothy.

“It's because they love you too much. Love and hate are side by side in a coin. The love that they feel is so intense that it could easily fall into hate. After all, love and hate are actually one.”

 

Heero nodded. Yes, hate is the other side of the coin.