This is my chapter one of a response to my own
challenge (weird, eh?). I had to write a new one
because of my bitch computer. Y'all can put this
anywhere if you like it, nowhere if you don't, and C&C
appreciated in any sort of forms (MSTer's, that's you
too, if you feel like it).
WARNING: This work of fiction contains bits and pieces
of scenes and language that are not appropriate for
minors or children under the age of 18. It^�s a
dark-lemony/limish thing, and the character's I used
are under no circumstances mine, I used them without
permission. Plus, the owners probably don't even give
a damn that I'm using them, so don't sue.
~End of Legal Ass-Covering~
Without further adieu:
>From the bottom of FLYz's bookshelf...
Where all of her fanfictions are found...
A Flying Banana Chair, Inc. Production
===============
Burning Smoke
by FLYz
===============
"I could spend my whole life repainting the mistakes I
made that are so small, I can't describe them, but are
so big, I can't miss them."
-The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars
===============
Chapter 1 :: Venus, Cupid, Folly, and Time
===============
I'm not one to respect others very much. Which means
that first off, Maxwell did a damn good job of
convincing me he deserved this. Second, it means that
I'm getting to be a sentimental fool after spending
such a long time in the company of people who deem
themselves to be human. I am not human. I am a
soldier, I was a soldier, and I will always be one.
Nothing anybody can or will do shall ever change that.
I think that's what Maxwell considers his greatest
lost to be. He couldn't get one of his friends to
loosen his ass-hole up enough to stop shitting Tiffany
cuff-rings. Figures.
I don't claim to know Duo, although, I find that
rather regretful, looking back at it now. He was
beyond my comprehension then, and probably still is. I
may have even loved him at one point. What? Surprised
I don't anymore? Well, don't blame me. Blame Atropos,
the damn hag for ever having introduced us. The world
shouldn't have lost such a man as him.
Then again, the world should've never had to suffer
me. Well, they live and they learn, right? Ha.
Go figure.
* * * * *
Thinking back, I wonder what the notion of love
actually ever was. I mean, we all have our first
loves, and nothing will ever be the same as our first
loves. They say one can never escape from the memories
of youth. They also say youth's a blessing. That has
GOT to be one of the top ten oxymoron phrases of the
millenium. But back to the point. Can you guess who my
first love was?
What? Heero Yuy love?
Is it that hard to believe?
* * * * *
The most disturbing thing in my life, was what
Maxwell wrote in his diary. I mean, I knew that he was
an orphan and all that shit, but hell, I honestly had
no idea what rape truly was until I read that stuff. I
think I'm scarred for life. And I'm not kidding. Do
you know, or have any idea what kind of thought run
through peoples' minds at those moments?
Do you know what rape does to the people it is
inflicted upon?
You know, I found out later that it was the same day
Solo died that Maxwell stopped believing in God. He
doesn't wear the cross because he's religious. He
tells people that it's because he wants to commemorate
Father Christopher Maxwell and Sister Helene C�sakari.
I'm not sure if that's true or not.
In my opinion, he wears the cross to mock the people
he lost. To show them, that he believed in God, he
lost the only people he ever loved, but he still
believed in God. He had to become part of the war he
hated, but he believed in God. He was raped on the
church walls when he was not much older than a
sniveling 5 year old, but he believed in God. I think
he wears it to show that he's pissed at God. I can
relate.
As he told me one day, he was relating his life story
to me, sitting in our dorm room, looking at the
turning leaves, "He was never human. He was never a 15
year old kid."
Yeah. Fuck you, God.
* * * * *
I was looking through the pilots' files the other day
and I found some interesting things out. Mostly stuff
on their background, which, for the most part, was
expected, not very shocking. Mostly. I still can't
believe Chang was ever married. For the most part,
just because he's the way he is, but another part of
me says that you don't want to believe it because it
would make him like you. You became his counterpart as
soon as your humane side died, too.
Well, Wufei, I guess that makes us a pair of cold
hearted mother fuckers, don't it? You know, I'm
probably just mad at him because he deals with it
better than I do. That's no reason to be a bitch about
it, I know, but I'm going to be pissy anyway.
But I found some other stuff out I sort of wish I had
never known. Mostly stuff about Winner and Maxwell,
since those two were the happy people of the group.
There was also some scary shit on Barton. Or rather
Bloom, since he's not really Barton, is he.
Apparently Quatre was a decent guy, came from a
family of 50... he was the youngest, and the only
male, yada, yada, yada type stuff. I also learnt that
he had needed psychiatric help for the past 5 years,
and was on a dose of Paxil which had just been
alleviated 6 months prior to the beginning of
Operation: Meteor. Oh, did I forget to mention the
fact that he'd also tried to commit suicide 4 times
already? Cut the wrist, shot himself in the stomach,
and tried drowning himself twice. But according to his
file, he was now a happy, mentally stable young man.
Nothing to worry about.
Right.
As for Duo, well, he was orphaned after being beaten
as a child for 2 years, then was raped 3 years hence
at the age of 8, repeated attempts at suicide, almost
anything in the book, you name it, he had tried.
Apparently gave up dying at the age of 13, hasn't
attempted since. And was certified insane. Nothing too
unusual.
Trowa was a recovering alcoholic (?) and apparently a
manic depressant. Apparently obsessed with knives, he
decided to see what would happen if he cut out a star
in his hand. After that, at age 11, sailing was clear.
And these were the men that I worked with? Lord help
me, Lord fuck me, and hit me, I was truly the only
normal one. Except for Chang.
Well, Wufei, I guess that makes us a pair of cold
hearted mother fuckers, don't it?
* * * * *
I don't know who I should hate or love. I am a
confused little boy, sometimes, and it makes me sick
to think about it. People always view me as cold. In
truth, I just don't know how to feel. There is a
difference. Really.
I have never attempted suicide, as much as that may
surprise you, except upon orders, but that's
different. I usually hold conversations to myself, not
with others, so as to prevent being judged. Is that
surprising? What, did you just think I had nothing of
value to say, or that maybe I didn't posses the
ability to voice what I think? Amusing thought.
Allowing one's self to be judged is the ultimate form
of respect in my opinion. Those who offer themselves
openly do not earn my respect. See how Maxwell is
quite the exception? I am not the man you thought I
was, was I?
I was?
Oh.
* * * * *
I...
I don't know...
Oh, screw it to Hell, I just don't know!
* * * * *
Damn it.
Go to Hell and leave me alone! I don't want to think
about the consequences of my actions today! Today, I
just want to live, and for once do things the right
way! Voice my opinion, kiss the girl, the heroic
stuff!
I thought that once, damn it.
And here I am, Heero Yuy, still in the army at age
24, a janitor/floor waxer for the president of the
Preventers. Yeah. I'm a fucking janitor.
You know, it's amusing, now that I think about my
short childhood, if you can even call it that anymore.
Of all the things I regret, even more then blowing up
that shuttle back when I was 15, is that no matter
what I did, it just wasn't good enough. It provided a
momentary satisfaction, but then, the fleeting feeling
was gone. Une once said, when she was a Lieutenant
that, "Heero Yuy, you fight for the colonies now, and
you are a hero now, but mark my words boy, that you'll
have to do better then to re-unite the colonies with
Earth to be remembered as more than a redundant
soldier, 10 years from now."
Amusing to think that what she said was true, that
nobody, save a few special people even remember my
name sake, let alone my person. It's AC 205, and
nobody knows who Heero Yuy is anymore. I am no hero.
I never lived up to my name. All my enemies, Zechs,
Treize, Une, are you happy now? You have your revenge.
I'm a nobody, not a friggin' hero. Ha fucking ha
Get it? Heero's no hero.
Well isn't that surprisingly ironic.
* * * * *
~End Of Chapter 1~
okasan8675@yahoo.com (FLYz)
!OWARI!
!OWARI!
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