Neon Genesis Evangelion Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Synopsis of Angels and Demons ❯ A Cup of Coffee ( Prologue )

Tears of Blood
Chapter One: Reliving a Lost Memory

Author: Soldier Heero

Co-Author: Oni Arashi

Disclaimer
I do not own the Anime Gundam Wing, or any of the G-boys…although I do wish I did own a few of them. W_oV; W_~V;
Now onto the FIC!
" " <----Speaking
* *<----Memory
' ' <--- Personal Thought and other things
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A comforting draft spread throughout the modern café as a tall, male teenager clothed in form-fitting old jeans and a forest green tank top that hung off of his slim frame opened the door with one hand and strolled steadily to a table, visibly limping once, but quickly correcting the fault before seating himself. A well-endowed waitress in her standard uniform swooped upon him with an angelic smile lit upon her youthful yet mature face. Without so much as noting her existence as a fellow human he stated "Mocha Latte".

The waitress pouted cutely " Tch, aren't you ever happy Heero?" She inquired of the boy, and Heero paused. "… I wish you hadn't found my name out?" He replied rhetorically. The waitress whose name Heero had never bothered to learn scooted off to retrieve his drink as she shook her head in frustration. Heero closed his enchanting eyes slowly as a small sigh escaped his slender lips, and his eyes shot open in an instant as the ring tone of his cellular phone assaulted his ears and his thin hand slipped into the pockets and grasped his phone, flipping the device open hurriedly, as but a few people had access to his phone number, and would not make calls for idle chatter as it was not his forte. The silver phone pressed against his earlobe, and a low male voice spoke in a droll and clear tone.

"There has been an incident. You will not receive details at this time. It's… J. You know where to go. Heero responded with a masculine grunt sounding something like "Hn." As he flipped the phone shut and stood up, walking intently to the door and leaving the café… Now maybe he had stood up too fast, or maybe the man's voice had brought back memories, but suddenly his head throbbed as his white sneakers came unto the pavement of the sidewalk. He ignored the pain and took a few more steps, and he would have continued walking had the ground not seemed to fail beneath him, hi foot missing its intended mark and sending him down hard, and his eyes blinked shut. His eyes opened once more, in a different time, so far away yet never far from his memory….

**Heero's body flies through the ashes of war landing in a bloody heap amongst the rubble that which is supposed to be peace, kept in a world of lies. As he rises from the rubble scattered about and on top of him, his Persian blue eyes blank and vacant as his mind sorts through his memories. **

In his mind the memory of an explosion and the death of a girl still burns brightly, forcing him to enter into his solitary life style. As he stands he relives the memory; everything real taking second place, even the woman walking up to him with a drink in her hand…** A bright explosion shakes the colony, and lights the sky ablaze as if it were Independence day, but Fireworks were illegal on the Colony, an explosion could rip a hole in the outer shell of the colony thus killing all life inside. As the lanky teen stands back and watches the OZ base burn with satisfaction… The satisfaction of his duties fulfilled, a small smirk that is held on his face turns into one of horror, as an unexpected explosion sends a gigantic Mobile Suit careening into an apartment building located adjacent to the military structure. As the burning behemoth exploded, incinerating the occupants of the building and bringing down the building with it in its selfish demise.

"No!" yells the horrified soldier as he runs forward hoping in some way or form the occupants could still have possibly survived from the horrendous explosion. Deeply in his mind the 'Perfect Soldier' within him told him no one survived. **

That single memory is the one of the many that he has to relive each and every single moment of his tortured, and miserable existence.

As he lays there several people walk by him and stare at him. Out of pity they throw him money, as he stares at the money his first instinct is to throw the money back at the people, after spitting in their faces.

Slowly over the period of several months of uncounted time, his mind registers the condition he and his body are in, and the condition is horrible. The endless weeks of not eating correctly, the endless nightmares and finally the mental and emotion scars he has from before, after, and during the war are all taking their toll on him. The price is far too high for any normal human to pay, his body has with stood enough of the test of time, but this time the test might either kill him or allow him to live another day.

Finally after an uncountable pace of time several radiant saviors had finally found him. Each of them sticks out in his mind, because each has played an important part in his life. But will anybody come to his aid now? He wonders as her sweet face hovers into view, with genuine empathy displayed without effort, his lids close over his emotionless globes. The last glimpse he got of her is a small puff of brilliant blue hair, and soul piercing blood red eyes, and a face of an angel…