Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Time ❯ Wufei's Story ( Chapter 4 )

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jack, Gundam Wing, Backstreet Boys (Or their songs) or anything else I happen to use in this fic.

//I remember when, mom used to say

That things are getting better

And you'll soon be on your way

Remember those days

When we would sing (or fight) at the drop of a dime (Oooh)

Way back when nothing mattered (Mmm, mm, mm)//

Wufei:

"I can see that you've been crying, You can't hide it with a lie, What's the use. . ."

". . . In your sing-ing, Cause it's, real-ly, tu-ne-less."

"You are singing to your goril-la. What is next? You're making ou-t! That tongue action your display-ing . . . it real-ly, gross-es, me out."

I growl at Heero's and Duo's made up lyrics. Heero was being the more creative, which was surprising. A few years ago and I would have scoffed at anyone who suggested it. It's strange how things change with time. I feel slightly annoyed at the pair because what had begun as my singing my mother's favourite song had been turned into a reference to my making out with a gorilla. I suppose I can't hold it against them - they obviously aren't in the `mood' yet. Perhaps they are having. . . trouble in. . . private matters - matters involving certain mechanisms working properly. I smirk at the idea and decide that my private musings are enough revenge - I don't need to seek justice just yet.

Their chosen subject to annoy me with tonight had made me irritated me to no end. I would never dishonour myself my doing that. Not only was it wrong by terms of morals and natural order, but to do it after singing a song that bore such a close tie to my honour bound mother would have been. . . lets say that by Christian beliefs - I would burn in hell for eternity. I think I will have to extract my revenge in the morning.

I move out of the house and into the garden, still cradling the little gorilla in my arms. She is still only very small, and very alone. I can't help but feel for a motherless creature, no matter the form.

My mother, while nearly obsessed with honour and the best interests of the clan, had cared for me greatly. She had been the one to encourage me to keep pursuing my practice of the martial arts when most just wanted me to stay with becoming a scholar. And while I did keep up the outward appearance of being only concerned with academics, my mother was the only one who knew my true ability in martial arts. She had helped me through the stages when I fell behind, when I thought about giving up. After I became proficient I would go through my kata's as soon as the first syllable asking me to practice was out of my mother's mouth.

I never thought that I would ever need to use my training. It never, ever occurred to me while I was training that I might one day need to use my technique to kill others. I think my mother might have had some of the `sight' that my clan's legends told about. She knew when she would last get to see me, knew that I would need my training. I never thanked her for it, though.

That was back before a lot of things happened; before a lot of things changed. I don't think that I would believe anyone who told me, back then, that I would have over twenty-five tattoo's before I reached the age of thirty. I might have broken their arm for implying that I would dishonour my body, who knows? I was much more uptight then. Very anal retentive. Then again, so was Yuy.

I appreciate the person I am now. A new hair colour every week, a new tattoo every month, a few piercing. I am happy with the person I have become. I am not as respectable, I know that. I wouldn't be acceptable to preventers anymore. But I have left that in my past, even though it's never left my mind. I can't forget who I am or the pain that I have endured. I will never forget what it took to make me who I am, but I have placed it in the past.

The passion and love that I have for life now and the care that I can express to other life-forms. . . it's a very good reason to lose a little respect. A very good reason. My friends still care for me, no matter what I look like on the outside. And I know that they recognise that I am a better person for the changes that I have been through.

I am not so sure about Quatre. The changes that he has been through. . . it isn't obvious whether or not they have had a positive effect on him. Sure, his heath is improving, but his spirit is. . . it's more bitter than the man we once knew. He isn't the same anymore. None of us are, but Quatre seems to be the only one of us who began with it all - the happiness and contentment - and ended up with none of it. He broods a lot and Trowa doesn't notice. Trowa loves Quatre but he doesn't look much past the exterior that Quatre presents to us. I think that Quatre is the only person that Trowa doesn't look beyond. He is normally a very observant person. I suppose we all have blind spots when it comes to those we love.

I wonder if I'll ever find someone to love. I love my work, but I know that eventually I am going to have to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. I don't know if they are going to be male or female, and I don't think I care. It's never mattered to me. Finding someone has never really mattered to me.

I would like to try and see if Quatre and Trowa have a spare space in their hearts. But I doubt it. I can see that their relationship is unbalanced, but I don't think that they would ever be interested in anything like that. I will just have to hope that one day I will find someone who loves me, with all their heart. And that we balance each other.

None of that mattered in my past, but now I can see that I would dearly love it. How times change.