Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Dissonance ❯ Dissonance ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Disclaimer:

Gundam Wing isn't mine. Really.

He had always worked alone.

Prior to his arrival on earth, his mentor had told him time and again that it would benefit him greatly to believe otherwise. He preferred his solitude though, his peace; he valued it greatly. It was a private haven where he could dwell upon his thoughts regarding the three planes of his existence: His past, the tomb where his regrets and resolve lay; his present, an unending permutation of possibilities, interesting and mediocre alike; and his future, something that may not even come to pass but still merited some consideration on his part should the stars align themselves to favor his thorn-riddled path.

It was an integral part of himself, this self-enforced seclusion and the silence that came with it, that to lose it would simply be unbearable.

But lose it he did.

It came one day, that noise.

It pounded his head, incessant and immutable. It denied him his peace, that artificial peace he drew from that artificial haven he had created within himself. It tortured him day and night and granted him no rest. In frustration, he ranted. He shouted. He railed. He stomped, cussed, cursed, threatened and made good on those threats whenever he could, but the noise persisted. It grew in intensity and increased in frequency. It gave him no respite, and made the prospect of swimming in a tank full of piranhas seem much more desirable than remaining in the same place with that insufferable, aneurysm inducing noise.

It was quickly driving him up the wall and he was powerless to do anything about it.

Then one day it stopped.

The noise had abruptly, ominously, stopped.

He should have been glad, pleased, utterly relieved to have his precious solitude back. However, he was anything but.

The silence hung heavy over his thoughts like the gleaming blade of the guillotine, and remnants of the noise bounced around his head, taunting him. He found himself longing to hear it again, that noise. As unbelievable as it sounded, he now craved to be embraced by that very same thing that he had learned to loathe while at the same time, he found himself loathe to embrace that thing he had once craved to the point of lunacy.

So he confronted the music master, the maestro, the conductor that directed all things in his world to chaos and demanded that he bring the noise back and restore his insanity once again.

"But, y'told me that y'wanted me to..."

"What I said then didn't matter. I want it back."

`Give it back,'' his mind keened.

"It's not that simple, Wufei.”

"I want you back."

`I need you back,' his mind whispered.

"What if I don't want to go back, ever gave a thought about that?"

`No, no, don't leave me here!' His mind pleaded.

He closed the distance between him and the music master; placed his head against his, and whispered an entreaty into his ear.

"Lead me out of that place, dissonance."

Lips and tongue, a wild dance bereft of pattern; Moans and harsh breaths, a jagged symphony that warded off the silence; touches brief and fleeting, a tumult filled rendition that brought heat enough to scorch the solitude to nothingness.

"You never did play fair."

"I never said I would."

From then on he rarely had the pleasure of solitude, but found that it no longer mattered that much to him. Not anymore.

Owari