Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Most Bittersweet Gift ❯ Chapter 11

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Heero sat back on his haunches and pondered the last few memories that had resurfaced as he had read through Duo's journal. He had found it the next day in a fit of despair when he had thrown the computer and all it's components, desk included, in a rage. Somewhere, either in something or hidden beneath, or maybe just in plain sight Duo thinking he would come back in and hide it later, that little journal had sat, waiting, lonely. It had taken a week for Heero to gather the courage to open it, and then he had to force himself to look through it later that night, which is where Heero found himself, sitting on the bed, reading through his angel's last thoughts and emotions and wishes and dreams.
The others were still there, minus Relena, who had to rush back to her kingdom for some important business. Quatre and Trowa had themselves booked for two weeks in a hotel not even twenty minutes from here, and Wufei had accepted the guest bedroom. Duo had been buried three days ago, a simple yet charming production that Heero had not been able to attend. It was for memory alone, Duo had requested to be cremated, and his ashes spread into the sea on a night with sprinkling rain beneath the moon, the three things that Duo had loved about earth. Heero watched the news every day to see when the best time would be.
Stroking the beaten pages of the journal Heero thought back to all the memories that had flooded his mind as he had read through each entry, of what had happened before and after to create each entry and shape his actions once it was written. His memories of the events had been so clear he had thought for a moment he had been reliving the moments, that they were happening as they did right then, right there, and for one second he had Duo back. But he was wrong.
Going through the blank pages slowly Heero saw small doodles here and there in the upper corners, as if Duo had been stuck for something to say, or hesitant to write, and had simply sketched the indecision away. Looking over the few things he had from the boy who had brazenly called himself Shinigami he wiped absently across his eyes with the back of his hand, ignoring the now familiar wetness there, and picked up the long braid he had saved that day, running the strands through his fingers. He knew what he would do with this, but not yet, soon. It would be donated to the cause of making wigs for those who are losing their hair to a disease. It was what Duo would have wanted; it's what Heero wanted. He had found the will without the help of the journal, and he had known what to do with the small notebooks with the others names on them, but he had not been sure of what to do with the other things, until now.
He would keep them; maybe try to see if any of the writing or cartoons could be published, he always knew how badly Duo wanted to be recognized for something good, not tainted, as he was as the ex-gundam pilot.
Closing the journal slowly Heero touched the battered cover, smiling wistfully. He knew someone else would be regretting every harsh word, every rough touch, every icy glance that they had bestowed onto the recently departed, but not Heero. Heero sometimes wished he might have been kinder, might have showed how much he cared, but he never regretted. Each event led to the next, and if one of them had changed, then the future might have changed, the purpose of the events might have changed, and Heero wasn't about to question the reasons. He had made a decision and it felt right, he would live up to it as best as he could.
Picking up the journal he placed it next to the bedside stand, where it had sat every since it's discovery, and drew his laptop onto his lap, powered it up, then while he waited reviewed his actions before he made the commitment. They were right. He opened a program and began to type.

To: Whom It May Concern,
I have recently heard of your program for placing children with incurable diseases in homes so they do not have to live in orphanages, away from the attention and affection that they so desperately need. I would like to volunteer as such a foster home, and perhaps you will not find my situation to be in area you are looking for, I find that I ask you to at least consider my offer with an open mind and an open heart. One thing I do understand, perhaps more than anyone else, is the value of a life. I am an ex-gundam pilot, Heero Yuy, and I am looking for a way to make a difference in a life so that the child understands the value that they hold. I do not have any others living in my household, but I do have four wonderful friends who would support everything I do and always be willing to help out. Money is no problem, their life would be contented, but not overly lavish, and they would never want for anything, be it material needs or medical expenses, all of which I am willing to pay from my own pocket. Currently I am in transition, moving from the house I own now to another, of which you will be informed of the address as soon as I establish one. I have recently lost someone to a disease, one that was completely unknown to the doctors, someone who I hold very close to my heart. It is his death that moves me to offer this support which he did not have until the last days, and it is his death which gave me the most bittersweet gift I have ever received, the gift of my forgotten humanity. If you find it in your heart to let me help a needing child I will forever be grateful, please let me know. And please, forgive the man the sins of the unwitting child he once had been.
Sincerely,
Heero Yuy.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ EPILOGUE (one year later)
Heero Yuy scanned the lightly rippling ocean, milky black this night, the only light reflecting that of the small boat and the full moon high above. He ignored the light drizzle that had quickly pressed his black jeans and white shirt flush against his skin, and instead he lifted his head upward a moment to enjoy the cool breeze that pushed the water to the left as it fell. Looking back out over the water he began to whisper to the night, in his hands holding a metal object protectively against him, eyes open just enough he could follow the motion of the lapping water.
"It's a gorgeous night out here, not too cool, not hot either. Well, it took me five months to find the right that would be good enough for you, but here it is, and it must be an omen. Are you watching out for me? I think you are. Tomorrow morning I go meet the child who may be my foster daughter, if she wants me, everything else is taken care of. I'm a photographer now, one of the best. Last week one of my shots went on an auction and brought in several thousand dollars, maybe more, but it all went to the Maxwell Charity for underprivileged children. Yeah, you heard me, I…the guys and me started a charity organization. Wufei thought it would be fitting to call it the Maxwell Charity; it seemed like something you would approve of.
"I moved away from that house. Not because I couldn't take the memories of you, but because once you left me, it was no longer my home, it was just a house, walls, carpet, rooms, but no life, no love. I have a nice place now, though, a very nice place." Heero drew silent, leaning against the rail of the boat. After another moment he decided it was time and opened the urn, let the ashes float to the sea, carried by the wind and rain. "Well, it's only fitting. It's such a beautiful night."
With that he turned and moved back towards the shore, feeling the wind tickle his skin, placing feather light kisses everywhere it touched.

"Mr. Yuy, I must confess we had our doubts about you from you're letter, but we did some checks, we talked to people, and you seem to have a wonderful support system, even if it's only you. I suppose I should explain the situation before you meet her, simply because she's so excited. She's very insecure, afraid that you won't want her after you see her. Her case is a bit different, besides the fact she has cancer, although you'd never realize it. Where some of these kids have always been orphans living in places like these, moving from homes, and some only came during the war, or just after, she has no memory of a life before coming here about a year ago, and we suspect she was living on the streets from a very young age."
Heero nodded, following the white haired woman through the halls, seeing in different rooms children of various ages doing various things. A group of four, probably in the ages between 9-11 moved past the two, mumbling apologies as they barreled after the person they were trying to tag. A smile quirked Heero's lips.
"Where did you say she was found?" Heero asked, looking back at the woman.
"I didn't." She looked away down the hall, and then glanced back, "Please understand she may be a bit rowdy, and that her manners are in need of serious work, but do not let her colony put you against her before you've even seen her."
"Colony?"
"Yes, she somehow got onto a flight and they found her in the cargo hold, brought her to us. She's eight."
"Where is she from?"
The woman continued on, and then gave a nod. "She's from L2."
Heero stopped short, reminding himself to breathe. The woman stopped as well, gaze becoming stern. "Give her a chance at least, she may surprise you. I know the reputation that colony has, has always had, but I think that she will prove that common theme wrong."
Heero held up a hand to stop her, "Continue on, there's nothing wrong with where she comes from. If anything…if anything I think it makes it more appealing that I meet her."
After an uncertain pause she gave a nod and moved through, then came to a door, opened it slowly. There were several children in the room, all nearly about 8 or 9, and they were all gathered around a table where an older kid was reading something to them.
"Angela, could you come here a moment," the director called out.
A young girl with a mass of black hair stood slowly and shuffled over, head down, then stopped in front of them, wringing her small hands. "Angela, I want you to meet Heero Yuy, the one I told you about. He wants to give you a home, take care of you, if you want to go."
Angela glanced up, and then down, nodding slightly, then dug the toe of her ratty tennis shoe into the carpet of the room, her lips forming a frown. "Hi Mister."
Heero dropped on one knee, tilting his head down to see her face, "Hello Angela, can I have a look at you?"
She lifted her head and Heero met a shining pair of violet eyes. He pressed a hand to his mouth, and then gave a nod. She gave a lopsided grin and Heero held out his arms, to which she hesitantly accepted the hug.