Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Wishful Thinking Book Three: Replaying the Unsaid ❯ Chapter 3

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.
Category: AU, shounen ai
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: 1+2+1, eventual 1x2x1
WARNINGS: ANGST and DEATH, sap, some OOCness
Dedication: This is for Emmy-chan

Title: Wishful Thinking Book Three: Replaying the Unsaid (Chapter Three)
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

Duo just couldn't stop smiling. "So, is that all? No more questions about the novel?"

Meiran shook her head, also smiling as she sipped some of her iced tea. "I think that's it, but I'm not really sure. I'll just ask you later when I think of some more questions."

He nodded, eyes alight with interest. "So, I guess it's only fair that I be the interrogator even once in our conversation. How have you been and Wu?"

The Chinese woman called a waiter first for more iced tea before replying, "You know, Duo, it only occurred to me that you were the only one who dared--and got away--calling Wufei nicknames, aside from myself, of course. Anyway, I'm doing great. Not as great as you, but working on the paper is very fulfilling. It's what I always hoped for, and more. Sometimes things not go so well, but you wouldn't know how happy I am to be working with my husband."

"Yeah, I heard, Mrs. Chang. How long have you two been married?"

The two of them talked all throughout their main course. As Duo was ordering dessert and more drinks, Meiran leafed through the book again. "You know," she began as the waiter left. "I think I know who your heroine is."

"Oh?" Duo replied flippantly, as if it was old news and meant nothing to him. Inside, he felt like crouching a little lower, embarrassed to be still mooning over his high school crush--if one could still call it a mere crush--into adulthood.

"And he's just right over my shoulder, to my right."

Duo blinked, wary of jokes. "Right."

Meiran rolled her eyes. "Duo, would I lie to you?"

"No shit."

"Look."

There was a split-second of utter fear as he debated with himself. Finally, he looked discreetly to his left, sliding his eyes over a vision that he craved for years. No major changes. His hair is as messy as I remember it, but there's something about him now. His timid air from before is gone, and his eyes seem unrestrained, challenging.

Meiran looked at her friend, gauging the look of longing in those violet eyes. She reached for Duo's hand on the table, and squeezed it gently. "Heero just came back. He's also been gone for as long as you were, but he visited occasionally. I heard from Trowa that he's staying for good. He left his job and sold his properties to stay here permanently. I think he just arrived."

The longhaired man was silent, still unable to drag his eyes away. So, he also left. I wonder how life was for him, away from his family and friends. I wonder what made him leave. His musings were broken by his friend's voice. "Wanna say hi?"

He quickly shook his head. "No. I don't think I'm ready yet, Mei. I've always dreamed about our meeting, but now that it's here, it's like I'm petrified, y'know? I just can't. Maybe next time I see him--"

Meiran nearly threw her hands in the air. "But that's bullshit, Duo," she cussed, frustrated at how her friend was handling things. "It's been a long time, and you still love him...and you're leaving the day after tomorrow! What's so hard with going over there and saying hi for five minutes? At least you'll finally be introduced."

Meiran was right. Duo gave in, and tried to swallow the nervous lump in his throat. "Okay," he croaked.

The two of them stood, with Duo shuddering at the knees, and looking at his appearance. He brushed nonexistent crumbs off his shirt and pants, and pasted on a smile. "I can do this."

"Uh...Duo?" came Meiran.

He looked up. "Wha--?" He knew.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see the table being cleared by a waiter.

He had nothing to say.

It was already pouring cats and dogs outside when Duo reached his hotel room. His mad dash from The Grey's offices to his temporary sanctuary left him panting, and his sides aching. It was great to see Wufei again, and like the old days, he was up for prickling, but friendly, banter.

Of course, there was also the sharp tongue of Mrs. Chang to be careful of.

Though he did not spend a considerably long time with the Changs, it was long enough for one of them to tell him (not without much debating who should tell him) that Quatre was gone.

It was so stupid of me. I even thought they were pulling my leg and Q-man would jump out of nowhere to give me a heart attack. I even thought that they meant that Quatre went somewhere, like, to Saudi Arabia. But no. Oh god. Why didn't I think of this before, when he stopped e-mailing me two years ago? That was two years ago and I didn't even ask one of his sisters what the hell happened!

Duo didn't know if the weather complimented his mood. He'd been so happy at first, and there was Heero at the restaurant, and then there was Wufei.

Then there's the news about Quatre.

"Two-year-old news…what kind of a friend am I?" he muttered, berating himself.

But he couldn't find the tears to mourn for his best friend. All he could do was fall onto the bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling, and seeing nothing.

The elation that he felt at lunch was gone. He couldn't summon the familiar feeling of longing for Heero. He couldn't remember the jokes, and the laughter that he shared with Wufei and Meiran. He couldn't remember a thing that had happened to him that day.

"I should have known," he whispered into the air. "It's been two years...I should've heard it from someone, somewhere. I should've known, should've asked one of his sisters...even Rashid. Rashid would've sent me a letter about it...I should've known where and when he was buried..."

Slowly, Duo curled into himself; a round lump on the king-sized bed.

He knew, that even if he berated himself over and over again, that it was useless. He couldn't have called one of Quatre's sisters, because he barely remembered them. He had fleeting memories of Aria...Iria? He wasn't even certain. As for Rashid, he knew the big guy would've sent him a message, but he didn't receive anything. There was nothing.

"What the hell am I doing?!??!!!!" he shouted suddenly, eyes ablaze with self-disgust. "He's dead and all I can do is make excuses for not knowing?!!!"

He wanted to cry, he really did. He wanted to get rid of the feeling inside his chest. He wasn't familiar with it; it was neither pain nor sadness, yet he'd prefer both for the gaping hole that he felt.

He bit his lip futilely, trying to induce pain so that it would take over the emptiness. He wanted to cut himself, to hit his head on the walls so that he wouldn't have to feel that horrible feeling, but his limbs felt too heavy, as if they were encased in concrete that was fifteen tons in weight.

Let me sleep, he begged silently, addressing no one. Please let me sleep.

Trowa had just come back from Heero's house when he chanced upon the phone ringing. "Hello."

"Trowa? This is Meiran. Can you do me a favor, please?"

He quickly picked up on the anxiety in the woman's voice. Frowning a little, he said, "What's the matter?"

After he put down the phone, he still couldn't understand why Meiran asked him to go to Duo Maxwell, but he would.

Duo didn't know when the knocking started, but deep down he was relieved to be distracted from staring at the ceiling, and other things.

As he dragged his arms and legs to cooperate, he briefly wondered who it was behind the door. "Must be Hilde," he mumbled, and made his way to open the door.

When he opened it, he couldn't recognize the person for a few moments, but when he did, "...Trowa?"

He wasn't expecting him.

The tall man nodded. "You look like hell."

Duo blinked a few more times, as if seeing an apparition. Then, from out of nowhere, a strangled sob broke loose from his throat.

The dam crumbled at last.

He fell into Trowa's arms, crying, much to the bewilderment of the green-eyed man.

"Duo? What's wrong, Duo?"

It was then that those violet eyes looked up at him, tearstained and anguished.

Suddenly, he knew without asking. He tightened his arms around his late friend's best friend, and let his bottled tears flow freely.

He couldn't believe how much of a relief it was to let it all out after two years of dismissing the grief.

~Sadly sitting on a bench
With the wind blowing on my hair,
The scent of storm tickling my nose,
And drops of rain touch my cheeks.

Soon more raindrops follow suit,
But still I sadly sit, not having a route;
Sadly sitting, still uncaring
Of the drops of rain that soak my clothing.

Dark clouds unleash thunder and lightning,
And still I sadly sit, still uncaring,
'Til teardrops join in the raining,
One by one dropping, in the rain diluting.

The fiercest of storms is upon me,
And all the sadness, the madness, the tears, and pain
All howl in the storm inside me,
Outside of me, in sync with the rain.

Alas, the storm dies down to light sprinkles,
And I, on the bench, still sit, not sadly, though;
Then the rain ceases; the dew twinkles,
And now I care to wait for the morrow.

The sun peeks out of the rain,
And I look up when I hear the sounds
Of chirping birds dancing around a tree,
And I, for once in a long while, am free.~

. t o b e c o n t i n u e d .