Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Wishful Thinking Book Two: All Boxed-Up ❯ Chapter 8

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 get-together fic
Rating: PG
Pairings: 1+2+1, 5+M
WARNINGS: dialogues, speeches, some angst, Heero suffering, bad words, some OOCness, and cheesiness, too. It's a bit long! And prepare to turn green because of the poem!!!! You'll get sick!!!!
Dedication: For Emmy-chan
Author's Notes: Seven years in grade school, four years in high school. If it's different from what you know, please don't think too much about it. I experienced this kind of educational system, and since this fic is sorta autobiographical, I feel comfortable in using this.

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter Seven)
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

So, am I going to do something about it?

When Trowa had posed that question to me a year ago, I couldn't think of anything coherent. My thoughts were in a jam; I couldn't think straight. My infamous rationale retired and what replaced it were panic, and a deluge of self-consciousness. I did consider the possibility of Duo and me, but when my lack of self-confidence kicked in, I was doomed from the start.

So, to put it bluntly, I didn't do anything. I know, I know it was stupid of me; I've had enough of Trowa and myself nagging me about it. It was the stupidest thing that I've ever done, and I've never stopped regretting it. But I can't possibly go back into the past, because it is as it is, and I can never change what has already happened. There is only one thing that I can do to make it better, that is, do something about the future.

No. I won't say goodbye. Duo and I are going to talk tomorrow, on graduation day.

At the very moment that I realized what I truly meant to Duo, I've made my decision. The letter that he gave me proves that my hopes aren't so hopeless after all, and that I still haven't lost my chance. It also proves that my assumptions about him and Noin are false, or not completely true to say the least. Even though one might say that it is very late in coming, it's still better to try even at the last minute, right? And even if I feel like I'm such a huge moron for letting all the years slip away, I am determined to make it up to him. I won't fail this one. I am sure of that.

Now that that's settled, I think I can sleep peacefully now. There is a whole new day tomorrow that will change our lives, both Duo's and mine, and I won't miss any opportunity just because I fell asleep on it.

Cradling the box to my chest, I slip into the covers, placing the box beside me. What would be the best way to tell Duo? I ask myself, burying my head into my pillow. What would be the best way? Something simple, but will have lots of impact. The direct approach will serve its purpose, but I want something that's different. Duo used words as his method of taking a step closer to the possibility of an "us"...what if I do the opposite? And since I freeze whenever he's in front of me...

There will be no words spoken aloud tomorrow. My...gift will do all the needed talking.

It is a lovely afternoon full of hope and dewy promises--I don't sound like my usual self. Maybe that's what floating on Duo-shaped clouds--heart-shaped clouds included--does to a person. I feel like skipping my way to school, even if Une will be watching and laughing her head off. I don't care. All I care about now is what will happen today.

"Oi Heero!" Une calls me loudly, and I wince slightly at the sharpness and volume of her voice. "Zechs and I'll be sitting over here, okay? And smile for the camera! Mom's bank account is almost drained from this make it good okay!"

I just wear my bored expression and dismiss the curious looks people give us. I make my way to the line where my class is designated, and I see Trowa with Catherine, his sister, fussing over his hair.

"Problem?" I ask.

Trowa just sighs and slumps his shoulders, while Catherine echoed his movements. "Of all the days for my hair to go weird--"

"It's *always* been weird, Trowa," Catherine cut him off, stamping her foot. "What I don't understand is that why is it being so unruly all of a sudden. This is going to be bad. You're going to look bad, Trowa. Forever. For eternity. Imagine your high school graduation picture, my dear brother. You can't ever change it. It's going to be a constant reminder. Pictures capture frozen moments, you know, and it's going to capture your hair like *that* for a lifetime and beyond!"

My best friend is ready to strangle his younger sister when Catherine grinned, hastily made a peace sign, and scurried off to go to the guests' seats.

"Is she on sugar high again?"

"Perhaps," he answers. I've expected him to moan and complain a little about his hair, because, I must admit, it looks bad. Well, maybe not *too* bad, but it looks...bad.

I'm still making sense, am I not?

He didn't breathe a word out about it, though. Instead he asks me, "So, Heero, I will ask you again. Same two-year-old question."

I smirk at him, the excitement of the day catching up on me once more. "And I have an answer for your question, Trowa."

He smiles hopefully at me. "Which is? And don't you dare say 'I don't know', because I'm going to bash you on the head with-- with......" He looks around for something "...with Relena's vanity kit!"

At the mention of our classmate's name, the blond girl spins around to find the two of us eyeing her glittery pink Caboodles vanity kit, which goes wherever she goes. Hn. It's painful to be bashed on the head by hard plastic.

"Oh, Heero!" she exclaims giddily. Trowa and I eye her warily as she steps closer. "Is my brother out there yet?"

"Yes, he is. He's sitting with Une, in fact."

Relena shifts her gaze to Trowa, her cornflower blue eyes opting a scandalized sheen. "Trowa Barton! What in the world happened to your hair??"

"....." he sighs.

"Can you imagine how your graduation picture will look like?" she exclaims, then grabs my friend's arms. "Come with me. I have *just* the thing to fix that mop of...fly away...thing," she says, giving the last word a slightly disgusted tone. "It's good that I have Pargan with me."

Trowa coughs. "Excuse me?"

"Pargan, my lovely, trusty, pink vanity kit. Didn't know it had a name, huh?" she giggles. Oh god.

The look on Trowa's face says the same. "I don't think so, Relena--"

"No!" she cries out vehemently, thwapping his unruly locks. "You don't know what you're talking about, Trowa. This is national disaster! Let me help you! Don't be shy!"

I'm just about ready to laugh at the sick look on Trowa's face. "I have some things to do. I'll see the two of you later," I say.

I go around the area where my fellow seniors are to assemble, greeting those I know, and I shift my gift, which is simply wrapped in indigo foil, in one hand.

Where the hell is Duo, anyway?

I walk further, dodging girls who are excitedly glomping onto each other, looking for a bouncy, chestnut braid. I grimace as one of my schoolmates' shrieks pierce my ears, my eyes scouring the crowd for Duo.

"Heero! Smile!" Meiran shouts at me. I look around for her and suddenly there she is, raising and pointing a camera at me. The gadget clicks with a blinding flash, and I find myself blinking off the sudden brightness.

"Instead of making the poor guy smile, you managed to stun him, onna," Wufei quips dryly.

"Do you hear anything, Heero?" she asks me, intentionally looking everywhere but at her boyfriend. "Because I think I heard some lowly insect buzzing at my ear a while earlier..."

"Tetchy onna," the Chinese boy says fondly. "I bet you'll be crabbier than this when we grow old."

"As if I'd choose to grow old with *you*, you Chinese porkchop," she says crossly, but the amusement in her eyes defies her tone. "I'd be insane if I ever decide to spend the next fifty years with such a sizable chauvinist like you."

"Cantankerous, indeed," he says with a smile, then promptly takes her lips with his own. I quickly avert my eyes; I don't want to intrude on such a private moment.

It is then when I take a few steps away from the couple that I remember my mission. I should have asked them if they know where Duo is.

The marching into the auditorium has passed by without a hitch, and now I, along with the whole student body, endure the ceremonial speeches by a handful of important people. I'm bored with all this, and I can't wait for the whole grueling affair to end. I dart a glance at the area where Duo is supposed to be, but I don't see him anywhere. That's fine. He's supposed to be at the backstage preparing to read his poem to the rest of us, the one that the principal had asked him to prepare just for this occasion. I wait patiently for him to come out, and when his turn did come, Quatre Raberba Winner emerges from the curtains instead.

I scowl. What's going on--?

"He's not supposed to be there, isn't he?" Alex, a classmate of mine, hisses at me. "It's supposed to be Maxwell reading the--"

A slightly deliberate shush cut off the rest of his words.

"A pleasant afternoon to our special guest speaker, to our school administrators, beloved teachers, and fellow future graduates," he begins, his voice a bit timid. "I am standing before all of you today as a special favor for a friend. As we all know, it is Duo Maxwell who is supposed to be up here on this stage right now; it is also stated on your program. However, due to unfortunate reasons, he cannot be with us on this day. He sends out his deepest apologies, and hopes that what he had prepared for all of us will be remembered and treasured, for not only did he dedicate his time and energy for this, but also a part of his soul."

I must have a problem with my hearing. Did he just say that Duo isn't here? What about my plan? What's going to happen with the two of us? He can't possibly be serious!

Quatre clears his throat, and begins.

"Upon Destiny's gates, I find myself Gasping to breathe, battered from battle, I find myself coming home from a four-year war; Surprisingly, there are tears on my cheeks.

There is a twinge of tenderness in my heart; It is as if I feel saddened by my fated release: Release from the adolescent life that I had known, Had *drunk*, had lived, had loved... And as I knock on these gates, I realize, will always love.

The buzzing corridors, jolting slams of lockers, the cafeteria food, the teachers, papers, papers, and red-letter papers, Study Hall, detention, crowds during football season and basketball season, and don't dare forget the flashes of cheerleaders' skirts-- They threaten to burst my box of memories.

Nameless faces, familiar faces, friends' faces, best friends' faces, Teachers' faces, administrators' faces, employees' faces, Graffiti on the walls, vandalized tables, the smell of the sports equipment storage--heck, even traces of pot session in the men's comfort room, All printed in my mind.

As I knock and let Destiny know I'm here, I wonder, Is this really coming home at all, or a period of rest to prepare for another war? If that is the case, then I don't mind; I--no, we got through one hell of a war, didn't we?

See ya all soon!--Duo Maxwell"

I didn't know that I had been clutching the foil-wrapped box tightly until Quatre has left the stage. See ya all soon? See ya all soon?!? What the hell?! What the goddamn HELL?!?!?

I sag into my seat, looking at my gift with a tired expression. I feel like I've just gone to war, and lost. No, died is more like it. I feel like sinking into my seat and not being part of the world.

And hundreds of togas rain on me.

. e n d b o o k t w o .