Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Symphonys of Roses and Pain ❯ Stand up ( Chapter 5 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The line between good and evil is almost invisible when there are shades of grey obscuring your view.
(Title by Trapt)

Anime/Manga: Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Shounen / Supernatural / Occult / Horror | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.23.2006 | Updated On: 07.16.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 839 | Status: Work In Progress

Stand Up

He hated thinking.

It just made him remember all the times he fucked up, or dwell on things he could have changed.

Like he had a choice now.

He didn't know how long he'd been lying here, trapped in his body. While he was in control. He couldn't move a muscle, twitch a finger, hell, he couldn't even blink for Christ's sake.

He couldn't even bring himself to hate the other, Tsuzuki, anymore.

It was like he was slowly being devoured by this thing this person inside of him.

So far, the only thing he'd ever managed to feel was guilt. A deep pang in the core of his existence as he remembered his past, what he could have done.

It was worse when he saw Quatre.

All four of his family members came to see him, and most of them, Wufei, Heero and Trowa, thought he just stared blankly ahead, unable to see or hear them.

But not that little blonde Arabian.

Quatre knew better.

Having an empathic friend was sometimes more trouble than it was worth.

The sad look that would cross that innocent looking face could even break the Devil's heart and make him fall to his knees and cry.

But he couldn't. He was slowly fading into nothing, and Quatre knew it. That's why he was so sad.

The good thing was that he no longer `floated' along like he did that day. But more, he was a spectator in his own body.

It might have been better than floating, but it sure the hell wasn't as good as being in control.

His voice startled him, bringing him out of the depths of his memories and thoughts and back to watching.

Tsuzuki was talking as him.

He briefly thought that it was messed up on so many levels.

Sheryl was standing behind him, brushing his long chestnut hair. He could see her in the mirror that he was staring at.

“Chop it all off…”

His voice was scratchy from disuse, but he imagined it was because that Tsuzuki was not him and couldn't use his body properly.

He knew it was bull, but he liked to pretend.

There was a noise of disbelief behind him, but Tsuzuki turned his head to the side and looked at her in the mirror.

“Please, cut my hair, it's too long.”

Tsuzuki was pleading now, in his voice. It sounded pathetic to him.

There was a look of doubt in the nurse's eyes, but she obediently picked out a pair of scissors from her pocket and started to cut the thick locks.

Tsuzuki watched on impassively, and he had no choice but to do the same.

He couldn't even bring himself to scream at the invader, tell him off or try to kill him for taking away one of the only two prized possessions he had.

Snip…

It was the sound of his past being cut away.

It took a moment for the majority of the length to be cut away.

But it wasn't over. Sheryl started trimming, cutting it shorter so that it was more in the Japanese style.

It looked like Tsuzuki's hair, back before it had been singed by the fires of hell.

He was too weak to fight, to scream.

But he did cry, his soul weeping for Solo, for Sister Helen, Father Maxwell. He could no longer properly remember them without his hair.

The worst thing was, that he could do nothing about it.

Sheryl put the scissors back into her pocket and stepped back so he, more Tsuzuki could get a better look.

He no longer looked like himself. He looked more like Tsuzuki. More like the person that loved and cared, who was able to do those things.

It was then, that he had a realization.

This was how he was going to move on. To learn to love and care. To forget about war and death.

But he had to die for it to happen.

This Tsuzuki being had to take over, to completely obliterate him in the process.

But he remembered Quatre, and his empathy.

Surely that little blonde would know that he'd disappeared. He didn't want to run the risk that Quatre wouldn't accept this new him, that he would close himself off because he had `felt' his death.

Even if he was gone, he couldn't put Trowa through that. Not even Wufei or Heero deserved it.

There was a tugging at the back of his now bare neck.

Turning his attention back to the eyes that were once his, he saw a pale hand wrapping around the cross that he wore.

His second treasure.

With a jerk of his hand, Tsuzuki had snapped the chain, breaking his soul.

“Baa baa black sheep…” Came his voice out of the body Tsuzuki now controlled. The hand was moving away and hovering over a garbage bin.

Fingers opening, he watched through his stolen eyes as the silver cross fell and landed in the trash, never to be picked up.

“Lost in this world of white….”

This was punishment.

Punishment for all the sins he'd committed.

God was doing this.

God had sent this being called Tsuzuki to him, to take over his body and get rid of everything he held sacred.

He still couldn't feel anything.

Nothing

He was vaguely aware that the Tsuzuki monster was getting up out of the chair, leaving the large pile of chestnut hair for the nurses to clean up.

Leaving the cross in the trash.

He was only aware that he was being pulled into darkness, that the monster now in control of him was suppressing him like a bad memory.

It was comforting to know that he wouldn't be felt by Quatre anymore.

He closed his `eyes' so that he couldn't see any more, embracing the nothingness with open arms.

He was tires, so tired.

One thought raced through his mind however, forbidding him from his slumber even just for a second.

It was Muraki…

That silver haired one who had plagued his dreams and waking moments.

He could see him now, dressed in nothing but white under a Sakura tree.

He could even smell the cigarette smoke in the air.

`I'm disappointed in you..' He could just imagine the phantom saying that while turning around and fixing those eerie eyes on him.

It made his blood boil.

But he didn't know why.

But just like that, Muraki was gone, and all that was left was the darkness.

He didn't want to sleep suddenly, and he started to fight.

But it was too late, he was being swallowed up to fast.

A bitter sweet smile graced his stolen body's lips as he disappeared into the vast nothingness, leaving Tsuzuki alone.

“Watari…I know you're here…I need to speak with you.”