Subject: [FFML] [GW][fic] SNK- "Waking: Noin"
From: Quicksilver
Date: 11/9/2001, 2:32 PM
To: FFML@anifics.com, Gundam_Wing_Family@yahoogroups.com, stellarsoldiers@yahoogroups.com


This has major spoilers for the end of Act 6!

http://www.midnightrevolution.org/gundam

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"HOW DARE YOU LOOK SO MUCH LIKE MY SAFFIR-CHAN!"

http://www.homestead.com/quicksilverslabyrinth

http://www.method.org/gundam 


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"HOW DARE YOU LOOK SO MUCH LIKE MY SAFFIR-CHAN!"

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http://www.method.org/gundam


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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING.txt
-- Desc: SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING.txt

SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING 
SAINAN NO KEKKA 
Waking: Noin 
"Everything is clearer now. 
Life is just a dream, you know- 
It's neverending." 
--Cowboy Bebop, Blue
 
It was snowing when we stepped outside into 
the dawning morning, flakes of white clinging to 
my eyelashes and my cheeks and settling 
themselves on the small ledge between the 
bottom of my nose and upper lip. I stuck out my 
tongue, licked the collected snow from its resting 
place. Heard his footsteps from up ahead. 

"Hurry�" 

The snow swirled up for a moment in front of me 
and I shielded my face as the wind shrieked, 
sending a howling gusting of white into my eyes. 
They stung, as if burned with acid, and I blinked 
rapidly. Another gust of wind. I saw his eyes, 
blue against the white, and then he was gone 
again. 

"Hurry�hurry!" 

I struggled up the slope that had suddenly 
appeared on front of me, the landscape ahead a 
pure, virgin white, and the clouds were white 
also so that I could not tell where the snow 
ended and the sky began. The wind had slowed, 
and all I could feel was snow falling into my eyes 
and my hair and seeping in through the thick 
scarves I had bundled around my neck. 

I had read somewhere that falling snow was not 
truly silent, but if it made sound now, I could not 
hear it. 

I reached out my hand as I took the last 
laborious step to the top of the hill and gripped 
the outstretched fingers offered to me, out of the 
fog. The hand was warm. Alive. Through the soft 
white glove I could feel his pulse, beating. Even, 
steady. One, two. 

And then another gust of howling wind and our 
fingers were slipping apart, and even as I 
scrabbled for a hold his hand melted out of my 
grasp, like an illusion, and only his voice 
remained. 

"Hurry�" 

"Where are you?" I shouted. My words bounced 
back at me, echoing off unseen walls. 

It was sunrise, but I could not see the sun. 

"Where are you?" I shouted again, louder, but 
only the echo. My nose and ears were numb, as 
were my fingertips. I sank to my knees. The 
snow fell. 

He wasn't coming�he wasn't coming back. 

There were birdcalls in my ears and I looked up 
again to see the branches of the familiar tree 
spreading over me. The snow was gone, the 
sunlight warm on my cheeks and I was wearing 
my cadet uniform. The ranks on my shoulders 
were those of wing commander. 

I got to my feet slowly. I was on a hill - our hill - 
at the base of the tall tree that I used to nap 
under in the heat of the afternoon, between 
classes. 

"I'd forgotten about this place," I said, and I felt, 
rather than heard, his response. 

I've never forgotten. 

"I wouldn't expect you to," I returned, tearing my 
gaze away from the tree and slowly turning in a 
circle, gazing at the landscape around the hill, 
towards Lake Victoria to my left. The academy 
was there, as I remembered it, white buildings in 
neat lines creeping towards the hillside. The 
airfield to my right. The grass rippled in the 
breeze and the bell in the belltower tolled once, 
twice, signaling the start of afternoon classes. 

As if there had never been a war. 

What happened here? 

His voice was shocked, and I frowned. "What do 
you mean?" 

I smelled something burning�but there was 
nothing cooking in the firepit near the tree where 
we used to sneak away and make our dinners in 
the evening, and� 

What happened here? 

When I whirled to face the stretch of land below 
once more, the white buildings were no longer 
standing. Smoke filled the air, char-burnt ashes 
of stench, and the smell of burning flesh. The 
waters of the lake roiled and foamed, reflecting 
the fires that were all that remained of the place 
that had been home for almost as long as I 
could remember. 

I clenched my hands in silent agonized memory, 
and as my nails dug into my palms, I cried. 

What happened here? 

"The academy�is dead," I said. "I�failed. You 
were there." 

Lightning flashed in the sky and it began to rain, 
but I didn't move, didn't run from where I stood. 
There was a presence next to me. I didn't turn 
around, merely wrapped my arms around myself 
and looked up at the sky. The rain stung my 
eyes but I did not blink. 

"You were there," I said again. "I failed. I couldn't 
win the war." 

No. No one won the war. 

I could have argued that point in a hundred 
different ways by point and counterpoint, but it 
had been argued already, by the military and the 
government and the newscasters and the 
reporters, the former soldiers and the parents 
who had lost their children, by veterans and 
mourners praying over the graves of loved ones. 
For two years, and I was sick of war. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't�I was weak. I�" 

You're not weak. You're the strongest person I 
know. 

I tried to smile, but I didn't have the heart, 
merely shrugging wet shoulders. Thunder 
cracked in the sky overhead. 

"It's a shame, you know. So much�for nothing. 
We were going to change the world, remember? 
You and I�" 

We did change the world, I think. But not in the 
way we planned. 

"No," I echoed. "Not that way." 

I felt him laugh, if illusions could laugh, if it was 
an illusion standing by my side looking with me 
into the mist and smoke that rose from the 
ruined academy into the clouds. "Tell me 
something." 

What's that? 

I unwound my arms from around my chest, 
feeling the collected water run down the soaked 
fabric and drip down my sides as it continued to 
rain, drops streaking down my face and my 
neck, between my breasts and around my hips, 
trickling drop by drop down the insides of my 
thighs like the touch of some unseen lover. The 
rain was warm. 

"In the end�was what we did�did it mean 
anything?" 

He was silent, and the thunder roared again, 
softer now, and in the darkening sky the 
lightning flashed, and I could see his eyes. I 
reached out my hand, felt him take it in his large, 
callused one, wrapped my fingers through his. I 
closed my eyes. 

"You don't have to tell me that it didn't," I said 
quietly, "because I guess I already know. I 
guess�I've always known�" 

As long as it meant something to you, he said. 
To us. To all of us, then it is enough. 

And as the rain gushed down in rivulets and 
streams and rivers running endlessly into the 
great lake and the oceans beyond, and as the 
thunder cried and the mountains shook beneath 
our feet and the world crumbled around us and 
the great tree trunk split in two, he drew me 
closer to him and we fell together into the 
chasm. 

The lightning shimmered in a beam of brilliance 
around us and I heard the angels singing. 

And then it was dark. 

"Tell me something else," I whispered into the 
silence, and I heard his sigh in response. 

Anything. 

I gently freed myself from his embrace, my eyes 
still closed, my fingers grazing his cheek one 
last time, finding his lips as I touched them, 
slowly, before I let him go. 

"Why did you come here?" 

Though I could not see him still, even had I 
opened my eyes, I felt his smile as brilliant as if 
the clouds and the darkness had melted away 
and the sun was shining out of the blue sky and 
we were under our tree once again. And 
perhaps if I opened my eyes we would be, as if 
nothing wrong had ever happened between us 
and never would, that the war had never been 
fought and no one had ever died. 

For the first time in my life, he said, I wanted to 
do something right. 

But that was only illusion. 

As was he. 

"No," I said softly. "No�not the first time." 

He was drifting away from me and suddenly I felt 
a flash of fear, reaching out my hand, but he 
was too far away. I could sense him trying to 
reach me, the distance between us growing. Too 
fast. It was too fast. 

"Don't�!" 

I could feel the blood running down my body 
from the gaping hole in my stomach where the 
pain twisted and writhed like some unholy living 
creature. It dripped in hollow, obscene droplets 
with thick, murmured gurgles to some unseen 
space below and I felt it coating my skin, my 
hands and smearing my face. My blood. 

I wanted to cry out but I was afraid that no one 
would hear. I wanted to open my eyes but I 
knew if I did so, everything would vanish, 
everything in the illusion I had created for 
myself. I was afraid. I had always been afraid, of 
losing, of being lost, of death. Of losing him most 
of all. 

"Don't go!" I cried. "Don't leave�" 

And I was falling. 

And I was screaming. 

And I knew I was dying. 

And then I felt something warm surround me 
and the blood, the pain, was gone. I took a deep 
ragged breath, breathed in the air cool and 
sweet, felt myself floating, no longer falling. A 
dusting of pure wind across my face and the 
warmth increased, and there was light. And I 
knew that even if I opened my eyes, nothing 
could ever harm me again, because the dream 
was destined to come to this and I did not need 
to be afraid. Because life was just the continuing 
dream of sleep and dying was just a gateway to 
a beginning. 

So this was death. 

Strangely, there was no fear. There was no 
regret, no sorrow, nothing left undone. For the 
first time in my life, I felt at peace. 

Because it was time for the dream to end. 

"I love you," I said. 

And then I woke up. 

END WAKING



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