Ye Unholy Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or it's characters.
Those belong to the big-wigs at Bandai, Sotsu, Asahi, and any other company involved with the anime that I might have missed. However,
there is the chance that this might change, considering that I am still in contract negotations with Satan, as I plan to sell my soul
in exhange for ownership. ^_~
Warnings: Um, other than length, none that I can think of at the moment. Maybe a bit of language? Sap? (And don't look at me like
that, Kalen. You fell into the trap too...) I was aiming for a no-pairings kind of fic, but I think I biffed. ~_~
This fic is blatantly introspective, and is coming from a 1st person POV, so it's going to be tainted with the opinions and perceptions of
said character. And, in accordance with that, I should probably say that the mentioned perceptions of the character don't necessarily
agree with what I think is true. However, writing from the point of veiw of the character themselves, I think this is how they would see
things from their own perceptions.
As for the timeline, this occurs between the end of the Gundam Wing series, and before the beginning of Endless Waltz. Thats about it.
*...* = denotes italics
//...// = denotes thoughts
REFLECTION
//Smooth… Firm… Cold… Transparent… Flawless.//
Glass.
A window, filling the space between this tired body and the
freezing depths of the cosmos. Ignorant to the workings of man¾the
ticking of his heart, the respirations of his lungs, the turning of
the wheels in his mind. Just being, sitting there, locked between
four connecting barriers. Corralled and trapped for all time.
//Fragile… Brittle… Precarious...
Weak.//
…Until man shatters it with his iron fist of will.
I should have gone down with the ship. This, at least, is what the
doctors tell me. The red colossus should have been torn asunder,
ripped limb from limb in the explosion. I should have been thrown out
into the icy depths of space, fulfilling my final destiny.
Milliardo Peacecraft… Zechs Merquise… nothing more than another
piece of rubble floating amongst the stars… just another particle of
trash littering their breathtaking display of light.
That was the way how things *should have been*--
…Again, that is what the doctors tell me. Not with their mouths
and their complex jargon of words, but with their eyes. I see the
fire that burns behind their cold and watery orbs. I should have gone
down with the ship, just like their beloved Quinze, the misguided
fool who sacrificed everything to the end. All for some misshapen
delusion of achieving peace.
…Perhaps the old and thin man and I were no so different as I
previously thought.
Peace.
…My life seems empty now. False. As if dying with the destruction
of Libra would have validated my existence. Somewhere, some part of
my mind is telling me that I have failed to accept my responsibility
by surviving this war. I am nothing but a hypocrite, having planned
to be destroyed in the very conflict that I created and then not
followed through.
I don't have the strength to pay this voice any attention. Yet… I
don't have the energy to push it away either. I just feel…
Tired.
I am weary of fighting. All my energy has burned away, leaving
this pathetic little shell with his hand to the glass. Mistakes… I
leave an excessive trail of them behind me. I let my two names grow
to gargantuan proportions. I blurred that delicate line of
distinction until it was nothing but a shadow of a chalk line. In the
end, it was the machines--the tools--that dominated the master.
Silence. This ship is filled with it.
Silence. What a mixed message. Comforting and disturbing.
Unnerving.
Treize loved it. He always said that given enough exposure, even
the strongest of minds succumbed to the maddening thunder of silence.
Like Chinese water torture, I suppose.
I wonder… Where are you now Treize? Are you standing right behind
me, watching me with that cold and condescending smirk of yours as my
sanity slowly tightens another notch? Or are you keeping guard over
your Lady and the countless other OZ troops that you manipulated for
your own profit? For your sport. That was what drove the wedge down
the middle of our friendship. Of our brotherhood. I couldn't stand
your twisted ways.
You couldn't change your nature.
I suppose that this had been brewing ever since day one. We were
always struggling to become Alpha Male over the other… over our
friends… and for you, over the others. That's one thing… I pray that
Une never has to go through the pain of discovery. You really were
such a bastard.
Yet, you were my friend. The first to stand by me in a long time
of turmoil. But not the only. No, Treize. You were not the only one
there. It is odd how I can manage to smile at that thought. Of
course, that in itself only goes to prove something.
Just who is the Alpha now? Tell me, who is the one still left
standing? You thought that you could control me. Strange… I thought
my intentions were clear and honest throughout. I really do not know
why you didn't see it coming.
After all, you were the one to hand me my intentions on a silver
platter. I still remember that moment. Cowering under the bed in the
charred remains of my home, weeping like the child I was. And you,
all of ten years old. My fencing partner for the past week. Striding
into the room and telling me that I was being foolish. Weak. Grabbing
me by the collar, pulling me out from underneath the bed, and into
the light of day. Sneering at me. Screaming at me that I was nothing
but a pathetic wretch. Dropping me on the wood floor of my own
chamber and allowing the silence to flood into my ears and latch onto
my mind. Then… oh so quietly suggesting that I take revenge for the
death of my family, for that is what a real man would do.
And I was fool enough to listen. It took me until the Age of
Romafeller to figure out that you had your designs on me from the
beginning. I was your ultimate tool. Your greatest manipulation.
And that, my dear friend, was why I had to shoot you out of the
sky. I'd like to say that it was because a simple duel between foes
could not suffice in quenching the people's thirst for war. No, that
was only a convenience. Duty nor morality was nowhere near my
motivations. It was *personal business* that caused me to take
control away from that technician. It was *personal business* that
moved me to press that button and fire the cannon. It was *personal
business* that caused me to willingly murder my own humanity.
My own humanity… The phrase seems foreign on my tongue. How could
a monster so full of hate and anger to the point where he was willing
to obliterate the Earth, have humanity? That is what my sister kept
asking me over and over, with her ram-rod posture and her accusatory
glares. My dear little Relena, so innocent… Exactly what I had worked
my life for. Funny how your words, though harsh in tone, were much
kinder than those stares that you continuously shot at me. Your words
danced around the real questions--the real questions behind your
eyes. I am your brother. How could I not recognize it?
And that was the start of the paradox that was our relationship to
one another. You were all that I had left. *All.* I loved you so much
that it hurt. I believed that I was doing the right thing by devoting
my life to you--by rebuilding Sanc for you. By laying all the
foundations out for you, so that you could rise upon the world
brighter than the sun itself.
But you never were able to see my real motivations, were you? To
you, I was just some soldier… Zechs Merquise, a misguided man
indulging in war and bloodshed. And then, when my secret became
revealed, I evolved from the warring soldier of OZ into your crazy
older brother. The dark spot on the family name. Best to lock me in
the closet where you could control me, before people were hurt.
I never expected you to understand me. My God, how could you,
being four years younger and sprouting from a totally different kind
of life than mine, understand me? It was idiotic to expect something
like that from you. Still, I had hope that you would accept my love
for you. That perhaps one day you could forgive me for becoming the
enemy. And, I think, that it was that hope which blinded me from your
intentions.
After all, you took my gift of Sanc--my love--and threw it in my
face. All for some precious ideal. An ideal that is impossible to
achieve. Yes, that too is something else that I have learned, sister
dear, though the revelation took its sweet time in coming. I have
spent my life fighting for something that could not conceivably
survive in a world like ours. The irony of my futility stings
bittersweet, both amusing and disgusting me.
You shoved a stake through my heart by surrendering to Romafeller.
The wood broke off in my chest, splintering, and grinding into my
lungs, invading my breath. It was then that I learned to harbor a
fair measure of hate for you, my dear little sister. During that
moment, I finally began to see clearly for the first time. You could
never see the message of my work, the anima. The blindfold of your
ideal had been too securely fitted before your eyes. You were just
like the rest of them… self-serving to your own principles and
nothing else.
…Wait. I take that back. There was something else behind your
motivations. Heero Yuy. Gundam Pilot 01. You know, it always amazed
me how you could be so condemning of my actions and my existence, and
then turn around and support Heero with what you call love and
affection. And that hurt as well, though I was loathe to show it,
like all my other emotions. Somehow the fact that Heero and I are so
similar has escaped you. I-
Oh, dear. Once again, I have been mistaken. Dear sister, please
don't think ill of me for my thoughts. I don't truly hate you like I
committed to before. That was just babbling from a pathetic fool.
Your words and actions just… hurt. So much so that the pain drives me
to twist my mental words around in order to be to deal with it.
Relena, please forgive this fault of mine. Even though you do need to
open your eyes a bit more, I have let my bitterness get the better of
me.
And people wonder why I am so cold. It's all a mask, really.
Of course, I have always had someone near me who could see through
all that. It's puzzling, how she could look right through me. There
were days when I felt as if I were a bug under a magnifying glass,
with all my strengths and secrets blown to such proportions that they
were visible to the naked eye. And yet, it never really worked the
other way…
You know what's really odd? I keep seeing this image of you as
some sort of shadowboxer, ready and waiting for me to try my luck
against. Of course, this bizarre picture isn't very far from the
truth. You always did like to throw my ideas back in my face. We had
some really great discussions, didn't we? I could always trust to be
able to bounce my ideas off you and expect a worthy debate in return.
It was a game, really--one that we both enjoyed. Some of the things
that I learned during those matches…
Hm, I wonder if you ever knew of just how much perspective they
leant me. Of course, you'd go onto say, "that's what friends are
for," without a second thought because that's just like you.
…Perhaps that is why I feel so loathsome. I had an excuse with the
others. I know you did nothing wrong. Despite my shallow need to
blame you…
Sanc.
…Did you really do *everything* that you could? Did you stay until
the *very last* of the defenses fell? Until you were *completely* out
of ammo and unarmed? Until your Taurus was in shambles, standing on
its *last legs*? Until you were beaten, bruised, bloodied, and on
your *final* breath?
……
Well, *did* you?
……
Forgive me. That was completely irrational and uncalled for. I
know that you would have done *everything in your power* to keep that
dream alive. You're not the type of person to run away at the first
sign of trouble. Rather, you're so damned determined and stubborn
that you'd stay until the bitter end. I know this. I do. Really. It's
just…
Sometimes I wonder if Epyon has indeed driven me mad. My God, the
things that I did in that mobile suit. How am I ever going to make up
for them? For Barge and for Libra. How?
……
More importantly, do I even *want* to?
……
I-I can feel the mask cracking, damn it all. My control is
slipping, and I despise that. But, to be truthful, I suppose it was
only a matter of time. It's this never-ending cycle that's driving me
slowly insane. Emotions. I thought "Commander Milliardo" had killed
all of those off. But now I see that he did not complete the mission-
//How could he?//
-and I am left with the constant grating of it all.
In this, I suppose you are to blame. The friend I could not bring
myself to kill. Would you like to know why? Humanity. You evoke it
with every step, and wear it as a cloak about your shoulders. That
moment was… liquid. Suddenly, we had switched roles. It was I who was
the viewer, looking down upon you through the magnifying glass. You
stood there dissected, so very wide open. And I saw everything you
wanted to show me, but did not have the voice to say.
I was an idiot to think that I had killed off my compassion. Of
course, I speak of the emotion as if I have some sort of hold over
it. If I even have a *right* to it. Humanity. How overrated. How
fundamental. I still shudder at the memory, though my mind is working
hard to keep me from remembering. Trauma. Stress. The psyche moves to
wipe it all away and forget.
I wish I could forget it all.
That, I think, is what I really wanted most of all. A second
chance. This revelation didn't occur to me until just recently, as I
was sitting much like I am now. But it's true. What I thought was
insane need for peace was really just the want for a new beginning.
My rebuilding Sanc… Perhaps that was just a logical excuse for the
subconscious notion to recreate something that I could not have.
Maybe that's why I held on for so long. To Sanc and to…
How ironic that with all these recent discoveries, I still can't
bring myself to address the most… mysterious of them all. I fear that
the numbing march of time will force me to rectify this… someday. But
for now, I content myself with the few things that I *have* managed
to work out. I am beginning to see a lot of things, a certain few of
which encompass old arguments between us.
I am trying to picture the look on your face, if you were to
discover that I am starting to see your plea about the aspect of
protection with the soldier. I never would have been able to
understand this without finding something of my own to which I felt
worthy enough of defending. I still don't find myself acceptable
enough to take care of another person. However, I can and *will*
fight to protect the peace.
The peace that I tried to sacrifice myself for.
The peace that I killed millions for.
The peace that I created with my own two hands.
The catch is though, that it seems that God is not without a sense
of irony. Already, duty beckons me back from my grave. The walls have
ears, and I am privy to the hushed whispers of madmen. There are
rumors, licking away at the precious silence with the flame of
urgency. News of a secret army being raised filters into this
deserted outpost with growing frequency.
Dekim Barton is determined to resurrect Treize's ghost. And even
though I am weary to the bone, I cannot let that happen. Preventer,
with all of their formidable personalities, is still too weak. I must
draw strength from that which I have sworn to protect, the fruit of
my own two hands. Someone must take a stand.
…Maybe this will give Relena something to be proud of? To prove
that I am not, in truth, the monster that I posed as. It's a shallow
thought, I know, but still- I must start somewhere. There are things
that I need to lay to rest, and yet more still that I must redeem
myself for and set right once again.
And I will start here, in space. Where the wreckage of the great
Space Fortress Barge, resides. Where I put Epyon to rest amid the
rubble of Libra. Where Dekim Barton is already suspected of taking
over a colony. Where I have hidden myself for the past year.
The enveloping calm of it has been slowly seeping through me for
some time now, almost unseen. As it is, I watch the stars twinkle
through this cold window. They very plate of glass that I wanted to
smash just a short time ago. But has been a good hour since I gazed
upon my reflection on that smooth and transparent surface. Opting
instead to study the sprawling impassivity of the cosmos. Once again,
I find myself surrounded in a point of perspective, slightly humbled
and more than grateful.
Space-
//I will protect your beloved heavens.//
-is so quiet.
