Only a Pawn
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Title: Only a Pawn (Sequel to Damn You)
Author: Genji
Part: 2/2
Warnings: Angst, confusion, shoenen-ai
Pairings: 1+2, 4x2 (implied)
Disclaimer: I'm too uncreative to do a peculiar one, so I'll just
state the facts. I don't own the following characters. They belong
to others, of whom I should know by now, but since I'm inert and
unwilling to memorize more things than I must. The story line is, by
rights, mine. I did not plagiarize anything...Fair enough?
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I get up, wiping my grease-stained hands on a rag. Three-quarters of
Wing have been destroyed, but slowly and surely, I am piecing it back
together.
There's not much to do when you're alone--besides thinking. I'm not
alone, Quatre is updating Sandrock's systems, but I'm no
conversationalist. I have come to a conclusion on the problem that
has plagued me these last few days. It was a complex issue to begin
with, but the end is thankfully in sight.
I walk out of the hanger, never looking back. I'm still holding the
rag, clenched in my left hand. I don't know why I took it, but it
conforms to the contours of my grip, and is in itself comfortable.
The house is not far away--.576 kilometers give or take a meter. I
reach it and slip inside to find him hunched over a chessboard. The
game's in progress, but there's no one sitting opposite.
"I've been waiting for you," he says, placing his hand on a knight
and moving the piece experimentally. He looks up smiling brightly.
Upon seeing me, it fades slightly, but he's still grinning like a
fool.
It wasn't me he was waiting for.
I stand there in the doorway watching. He gestures to the seat
opposite him and reluctantly I make my way towards it.
Returning his attention back to the board, he tries to situate his
queen without endangering her. His opponent is doing rather well,
and in a couple moves that baka's going to be brought to his knees.
I block that picture out of my head.
"Any suggestions?"
He's holding the king now, the top pressed against his right index
finger, while his left is adding pressure to the base, twirling it
horizontally. I shake my head and tell myself that I'm not
involved. With a sigh he puts it down and gazes across the
board...and my resolution wavers.
But he's not looking at me, and I study the miniature battlefield. I
picked up the game at a young age--J had an affinity for chess--never
did beat him.
The boy across from me could check his opponent in a couple moves,
but telling him would be cheating. He moves his bishop, setting
himself up for failure, by going on the offensive, a weakness in his
defense is created. He studies my face, scanning for a reaction.
I glare at him. Of course he knows me well enough by now to read
into my scowls. He pulls it back to its place beside a rook. He
recognizes my expressions too well.
Wide-eyed he watches me, as if I'll be giving him another hint in my
countenance. Tiring of that, he leans back in his chair, hands knit
behind his head and looks up at the ceiling. He's talking now, but
I've tuned him out.
After awhile, something catches my attention. Monogamous. Could he
be asking me something? I snap to attention.
"...I'm tired of flirting my way through life, ya know? I mean, sure
it feels nice for a little while, but at the end of the day whatcha
left with? Nothing. So I'm gonna go monogamous. I me-"
"With who?" I ask, with too much inflection in my voice for my
tastes. It shouldn't be important. He shakes his head.
"I don't kiss and tell."
But he gazes out the window behind me for a little too long. His
eyes follow movement outside. Someone's coming to the house from the
hanger. He's far away now, but He'll be here soon.
I know who it is.
Pointing to a pawn I growl, "This, here," indicating that it should
capture the opposition's piece.
"But it's only a pawn," he protests. I shrug and walk away.
"What about our game?" he asks, having jumped to the conclusion that
since I had sat down in the other's chair, I had challenged him. I
don't deign to comment.
I don't play chess anymore.
I go upstairs and pull my duffel bag out from under my cot.
Meticulously, I start packing, pulling out from the closets the
little clothing and personal effects that belong to me. The last
thing to go is the laptop, which I check for missions, one last
time.
There are no missions to distract me from this predicament. I sigh
inwardly and pack the machine away.
But I'm not staying. I'll leave Wing here, then. I have to scrounge
up some parts that aren't on hand, anyway. And I won't be coming
back until I have all the components I need. So when I do return, I
won't have to stay very long.
I swing the ragged bag over my shoulder and walk out of this bedroom
of sorts. Down the stairs--all thirteen of them; past Duo, who's
looking rather pleased with himself, he has probably realized that
the pawn which he will sacrifice will help him win the game; and out
the door. I pass Him on my way to the hanger. He smiles at me and
asks me where I'm going.
I want to kill Him.
I won't, as He is a gundam pilot, and doing so would only result in a
prolongment of the war.
I hate Him.
I shouldn't. He's saved my worthless life before.
But He has what I want.
It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what I want. I got this far,
didn't I? As long as I don't see Him or Duo, I can get through
this. It doesn't matter.
I reach the hanger and 'borrow' a jeep. I didn't bother to grab any
keys, so I hotwire it. The car starts. I toss my bag into the back
and pull out.
I don't have to be here.
I am, after all, only a pawn.
~owari~
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© 2001 by Genji. Please do not remove without permission.
