The Perfect Soldier
Chapter 1: Reluctant
A.C.
197, December 24
The clock in the main hall of Relena’s
mansion chimed two-thirty in the morning.
The young man who had been reading quietly in the library glanced up
from the book in his lap and then at the darkened window. It was odd, but for some reason he still
wasn’t tired. He was waiting for
something, his instincts told him. Something... but what?
With a slight shake of his head, he turned back to the
book, but the early hour made it difficult to focus his attention. As his eyes skimmed the page, his thoughts
were far from plot and character development.
He glanced at the clock again through the open door.
Where was Heero?
He should have arrived hours ago.
Everyone else had made it to Relena’s
after having accepted her invitation to spend Christmas at the
The young man easily recalled that unexplained event last
February, when Heero Yuy had been taken prisoner by a rebel militia, and a
mysterious look-a-like had shown up to take them to him. Trowa’s green eyes slowly
unfocused as he recalled that night.
“Heero? Heero, can you hear me?” Quatre’s concerned
voice was nearly the only sound in the shadowed room. With a sigh, the Sandrock
pilot replaced the warming cold compress over Heero’s bruise with another.
“How is he?”
Quatre looked up as Trowa pushed the door open, letting
the soft light from the hall tumble into the luxurious
room.
The blonde shook his head, “He hasn’t woken up yet.”
Trowa crossed the floor to the bed and lifted the
compress to examine Heero’s spreading bruise.
It looked as if he’d taken a single, extremely well-placed blow to the
head. Slim fingers probed the area,
testing the strength of the other boy’s skull.
It seemed to be solid. A slight
frown creased Trowa’s brow.
“It’s been over and hour, he should have woken up by
now...”
The Heavyarms pilot carefully
lifted Heero’s eyelids, one at a time.
As the lanky young man examined the limp form on the bed, Quatre
gathered up the used compresses.
“Did you... did you find anything?”
Trowa shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Not a thing. No footprints, no
broken branches, no sign of anyone anywhere.
Quatre fidgeted uneasily as if he’d read Trowa’s
thoughts.
“Who do you think it was?”
Trowa understood the Sandrock
pilot’s acute distress. They’d all just
placed their lives in the hands of someone they hadn’t known, but thought they
had. So easily, that mysterious Heero
Yuy could have handed them over to Dekim Barton’s
fragmented organization and then their victory in space only six weeks ago
would have been for nothing. So easily,
the war could have started all over again.
So easily, we could have been lead to our own demise. But instead, he helped us rescue a comrade
that we didn’t even know we’d lost yet.
How could he have known about Heero’s capture so quickly?
Even though Trowa mused over this, he realized that the
reply didn’t really matter. The
mysterious twin had vanished. There
would be no answers to these questions until he reappeared again.
Quatre shivered, “He looked and moved and sounded just
like Heero.”
“Aa,” Trowa agreed, not knowing what else to say.
On the bed, Heero moaned and tried to force open his
eyes. Quatre’s
face was awash with relief as the pilot slowly began to come to. Trowa sat on the edge of the bed prompting
Heero to wake up as the blonde leaned over his shoulder.
“Heero.”
“Nuh...”
“Com’on, wake up, Heero. You could have a concussion; you need to wake
up,” Quatre urged, picking up where he’d left off when Trowa had arrived.
Cobalt eyes slowly fluttered open. “Wha... what
happened?”
“What do you remember?”
Quatre glanced over his shoulder at Wufei
who stood framed in the doorway.
Heero’s eyes squeezed shut. “The base was... deserted...” he began.
“So they were expecting you,” Trowa concluded.
“A-aa. Got the data... but walked right into...” As Heero’s voice trailed off, his face
twitched slightly, and everyone knew that he was remembering that startling
confrontation all over again. Duo
slipped into the room behind Wufei and approached the
bed.
“They gave me some sort of injection…”
Quatre carefully removed the blankets around Heero’s
arms and soon found the slight bruise of a pinprick on his right bicep.
“The next thing I remember is... trying to stand up...
in a cell. And then, the door
opened. The light from the hall was too
bright... couldn’t see. Then something
hit me. That’s all.”
Heero blinked his eyes again, trying to keep them open
for as long as possible. His head
throbbed and even moving his eyelids caused him pain. “How did you find me?”
There was a beat of silence as the pilots exchanged
glances.
Wufei said, “Something
strange happened at about
Trowa let out a very soft sigh as he finished reviewing
that night for the thousandth time. Had
the Heero who had shown up at
The clock in the hall chimed three. Trowa glanced down at his book and closed
it. He wasn’t going to be able to
concentrate on it, anyway. He rose from
the comfortable arm chair to replace the volume on the shelf. The book had just been slid into place when a
sharp rapport echoed through the foyer.
The Heavyarms pilot turned and wandered out of
the library. The sound came again.
Yes, someone was at the door.
Trowa unlatched the main entrance and swung the heavy door
open. His green eyes scanned the
darkness beyond, coming to rest on the lone figure illuminated by the lantern. A pair of tired cobalt eyes returned the mild
gaze.
“Heero,” Trowa said, backing into the foyer to allow him to
enter.
“Trowa,” the youth replied.
The green eyes took in Heero’s well worn jean jacket and
grungy duffle bag tossed over his shoulder.
He gave new meaning to the term “traveling light.”
“No one else is awake?”
Trowa shook his head.
“Come on. You’re room’s waiting.”
“Aa.”
The two started up the stairs. As they ascended, Trowa told himself that he
was relieved that his associate had made it here all right, even if he was a
bit late. But there was an uneasy
feeling gnawing at Trowa. Something was
trying to tell him that all was not as it seemed. He glanced at Heero and tried to pinpoint the
source of his uneasiness.
“Where’s Relena?” Heero asked.
Trowa almost smiled at what Duo would call “proof of Heero’s
crush.” “She had to attend a banquet and
ball tonight. She’ll be here around
“Aa.”
They stopped at a white door in the long, guest hall. “’Night, Trowa.”
It was Trowa’s turn to reply with “Aa.” He turned and walked calmly to his room,
listening to the sounds of Heero Yuy opening his door and then closing it
again. The warning continued to gnaw at
him.
But Heero was here.
There was no need to rescue him again from a mission gone awry.
So why did he still feel so uneasy?
Later that morning, the kitchen in Relena’s mansion resembled a secret meeting room for Gundam
pilots. Their hostess had yet to return
from her sudden engagement that evening and the servants of the house were on
vacation, spending time with their own families. That left the male guests to congregate as
they would, and it was no coincidence that they selected the area surrounding
the refrigerator and pantry; the objects held a main strategic advantage.
“Hey, Wu-man, you gonna eat that?”
An incoherent growl was Duo Maxwell’s only warning.
“Who wants waffles?” Quatre asked, lifting the waffle iron
out of its place in the cupboards.
Duo abandoned the dubious-looking piece of toast and
grinned at Quatre. “Hey,
sure. That sounds great. Count me in.”
Quatre went back to scrounging through the pantry for
waffle mix.
“So... I wonder if anyone else has shown up yet,” Duo
mused, propping his feet up on the kitchen table precariously close to Wufei’s
toast. The dark-haired pilot glared at
Duo and elected to relocate his breakfast.
“I thought I heard something last night. Could have been someone arriving,” Quatre
replied.
Duo grinned at Wufei. “Now, if that someone was Heero, we all know
what that means.”
Wufei steadfastly ignored Duo.
Quatre’s large, blue eyes widened
even more. “What?” he
asked, secretly dreading this new scheme that Duo had cooked up.
Duo opened his mouth to reply when the kitchen door swung open. They all turned as one and Duo took the
opportunity to snitch a piece of Wufei’s toast.
As Duo took a large bite, his gaze alighted on the figure in the
doorway. His eyes went wide. There was Heero. Wearing a green T-shirt, jean jacket, and
faded Levi’s.
Around the hunk of toast in his mouth, Duo said, “Hey,
Heero. You have no idea how glad I am to
see you.” He sent a pointed look at the
stunned Wufei.
“Pay up, man.”
Quatre took in the scene with big eyes. And then they narrowed and he sighed. “Shoot,” he swore.
“What is it?” Duo asked. “You didn’t screw up the waffles
did you?”
“No. I bet Heero
that you two wouldn’t have a bet over if he’d show up.”
Everyone stared at Quatre for a long moment, and then Duo
threw back his head and laughed. The
sound drew Wufei’s gaze and he spied the stolen, half-eaten toast clutched in
Duo’s fingers. Something snapped in the Nataku pilot’s head.
“MAXWELL!!”
Duo froze and then pushed away from the table in time to
avoid Wufei’s sweeping fist. Unfortunately,
he lost his balance and the chair slowly began to topple over backwards. From the doorway, the new arrival calculated
the distance between Duo’s head and the nearby cabinets; there was no
clearance. In one swift leap, the figure
was crouching behind Duo’s chair and righting it with two strong hands.
“Hey, thanks, man. I
owe you one,” Duo said after a breath of relief.
“Aa,” Heero replied, moving
toward the coffee machine.
“Would you like a waffle, Heero?” Quatre asked, politely.
The hopeful expression on Quatre’s
face drew out another “Aa” from the pilot. Quatre grinned and began whipping the mix and
other ingredients together. Heero took
his coffee and planted himself at the table.
“So, Heero,” Duo said as Heero quietly sipped his
coffee. “How’s outer space been treating
you? I heard it’s been pretty quiet out
there.”
“Quiet,” Wufei mused, “that’s
quite a novel concept for you, isn’t it, Maxwell?”
Duo threw a glare in Wufei’s direction before turning back
to Heero.
In reply to Duo’s observation about outer space, Heero said
only, “Aa.”
Duo chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d forgotten how talkative you are, Yuy,”
he commented with a wry grin.
Wufei turned to Heero. “Sally has asked about you. She wants to know if you’re interested in a
job, Yuy.”
Duo threw his head back and laughed, cutting off Heero’s
reply. “Ha! I knew there was a reason you accepted Relena’s invitation!
This rich.
Sally made you come just to offer Heero a job!”
Wufei glared at the American and
then turned back to Yuy.
Heero sipped more coffee.
“I’ll consider it,” he said.
Duo blinked. “You’ll
consider it? Man, what’re you up to,
anyway? I haven’t heard anything about
you since last February. What
gives? You got a load of missions you’re
not sharing with the rest of us?”
“Lay off, Duo,” Heero grumbled.
“You’ve forgotten how... disagreeable he is before the
third cup of coffee,” Trowa said softly as he let the kitchen door swing shut
behind him.
Duo let out a very unrefined snort. “Well, he’s just disagreeable in
general. What’s wrong, man? You look like you’ve got a bad case of
hemorrhoids or something.”
“He always looks like that,” Quatre said with a teasing
grin as he plopped Duo’s waffle in front of him.
Duo sniffed appreciatively.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. This
smells great, Quat!
Where’d you learn how to cook, rich boy?”
Quatre laughed and set the butter and syrup on the
table. “Oh, I’ve picked it up here and
there.”
The Gundam pilots watched as Duo, the test subject, shoved
and enormous piece of syrup-drenched waffle into his mouth. He proceeded to chew, making loud, ecstatic
sounds.
From that point on, he was pretty much ignored. Wufei picked up a
day-old paper—the one that he’d completely scoured yesterday—and began to
read. Heero finished off his first cup
of coffee and got up to get a refill.
Trowa watched Heero move around the kitchen and eventually
come to lean beside the coffee machine.
When Duo noticed Heero’s new post, he chuckled and said, “Hey, I hate to
break it to you, Heero, but you don’t get a caffeine buzz by osmosis.”
Heero said nothing and sipped the refill.
“So what time did you arrive last night, Heero?” Quatre
said, flipping a second waffle onto a plate.
Heero accepted the dish and began to dress the waffle. “Three oh
That reply sent Duo into another laughing fit. “What?” he choked out. “No seconds?”
Heero glowered.
Duo grinned. “Man,
oh man. You have no idea how much I’ve
missed our talks, Heero.”
“Hn.”
Trowa poured the remains of his coffee down the sink and
moved to the coat rack in the kitchen’s breezeway.
“Where are you going?” Duo said after gulping down another
bite.
“Town.”
Duo eyed the Heavyarms
pilot. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’re
one of those last-minute shoppers, Trowa.
Don’t you plan you gifts out like three years in advance like Heero
here?”
Heero glowered again.
“Ooops, I forgot,” Duo continued
after seeing that cold stare, “Heero’s Christmas spirit amounts to ‘Bah,
humbug!’”
“Ch’. Be quiet, Duo,” was the bland reply that
confirmed Duo’s statement.
The Shinigami pilot grinned. “Man, it’s a good thing no one ever wrestled
you into a Santa suit.” He paused,
considering the image of his homicidal friend in a festive Santa suit. “That’s about the scariest thing I think I’ve
ever thought of,” he concluded.
Heero turned away from the pilot that couldn’t seem to shut
up. With military precision, the coffee
cup, plate, and utensils were washed, dried, and put away.
Duo grumbled something about anal retentive
neat-freaks. “Hey, Quatre, I’ll take
another waffle!”
Yuy walked out of the kitchen, silently wondering how Wufei could stand all the racket
and still manage to memorize that damn newspaper. With a slight shake of the head, Heero
retired to the waiting laptop upstairs.
There was work to be done.
Sunset was a little less than an hour away and the
two figures in the estate’s elaborate, wintering garden were determined, it
seemed, to enjoy every last ray of sun shine.
Relena walked beside Heero as they strolled along the
path. Their breath froze in the air, and
the sound of snow falling from the tree branches nearby were the surest signs
of winter cold that anyone could look for.
Heero walked along, indifferent to the crunch of the frosty gravel
beneath his hiking boots.
Finally, Relena said, “I didn’t really believe you’d come.”
“I said I would.”
“Yes, but, your life is so... unpredictable.”
Heero gave Relena lingering look. “I only make promises that I know I can keep,
Relena.”
She lowered her head.
“I know. That’s why I can’t ask
you to give up fighting, can I?”
“Relena...”
“I know you can’t know that you’ll never fight again. So I’m not asking you to stop, I’m just
trying to say that...” she sighed, momentarily at a loss for words, “... it’s
all right if you do stop someday.”
Heero looked at her again before facing forward. “Fighting is all I can do for you. It’s all I know how to do.”
A long moment of silence passed between them. “I understand,” she said.
The two of them followed the path as the sun sank lower on
the horizon.
Trowa was deep in thought, gazing at the uniformly
arranged chess board in front of him when someone slipped into the opposite
seat. He glanced up as Heero placed a
cup of coffee next to the other pilot’s elbow and then took a sip from his own.
“Thanks.”
“Aa.”
Heero made the first move on the chess board and Trowa
reached for a pawn.
From the other side of the room, Duo groaned, “Here they go
again.”
“No one made you watch the last game,” Heero observed
dryly, countering Trowa’s move.
Duo rolled his eyes.
“You’re missing the point. I
stayed up to see who would win, and then it was a draw, of all things. You have no idea how exhausting it was to
watch you two chase each other around a chess board.”
Heero did not dignify that with a reply. Neither did Trowa. Both were of the opinion that chess was a serious
game of strategy. There was no chasing
involved.
The night wore on and soon the clock in the hall had chimed
Duo came up behind Heero and leaned over his shoulder. He blinked bleary eyes and yawned. “I don’t know why you two put yourselves
through this. Just looking at all that
unnecessary strategy gives me a headache.”
Heero ignored him and executed the next move.
“Well, I’m off to get some shut-eye. I’d stay up and cheer for ya,
Heero, but this game could cure an insomniac.
Later.”
“Aa.”
Trowa nodded goodnight to the Shinigami
pilot.
When the clock chimed one in the morning, Heero picked up
the coffee cup at his elbow and discovered it was empty. He stared into it for a moment, the emptiness
striking a chord inside of him.
Damn. I thought
I’d severed all of those feelings for good.
“Trowa.”
“Aa?” The Heavyarms pilot
didn’t look up from the chess board.
“Do you ever wonder about who you are?”
That got his attention.
“Sure,” he said easily, unconcerned.
“And if you had the chance to know? Would you want it?”
This time, when Trowa looked at Heero, his green eyes
carefully studied the youth. After a
moment, Heero returned his gaze. It didn’t
take a genius to know that a hell of a lot was going on behind those eyes. And it took a special kind of training to
recognize the look that said the answer to that question was off-limits.
Heero shrugged.
“Sorry.”
“Sure,” was the mellow reply.
Heero took his turn.
Trowa said, “I saw you talking with Relena earlier.”
Heero glanced up. “Aa.”
“She worries about you.”
“Aa.”
“You care about what happens to her.”
“Aa.”
“But you’re Heero Yuy.”
A soldier.
A fighter.
A person without a real past, just a borrowed name and
a borrowed history and training for a personality.
“Aa.”
There was a long moment of silence as they continued the
game.
And then, Trowa said, “If you had the chance to
know, would you want it?”
Heero’s hand paused over the board. Taking a breath, the Gundam pilot commenced
with moving a bishop. “I don’t know.”
“Hn,” Trowa agreed.
The game continued.
The night wore on.
The question circled in their respective heads.
Shit.
Heero Yuy sat down on the bed and glanced out at the stars
beyond the room’s window.
He didn’t answer the question.
Yuy sighed and tried to force himself to get under the
covers, but couldn’t. It would be hours
before he’d sleep.
I’ll never complete this mission now. Damn it.
Yuy put his head in his hands and closed his eyes.
He mentally went through every movement, every word, every look that Trowa had used today, trying to come up with
a good estimation for how the Heavyarms pilot might
have truthfully responded.
I don’t know.
That had been his own answer.
And it didn’t help any.
Heero swore.
Slim hands buried themselves in spiky hair.
I can’t afford a mistake, but I have to know. It’s imperative to the success of the
mission.
But how did one finish a mission when the single, necessary
piece of information was unavailable?
Somehow, I have to finish this mission and get the hell
out. The longer I wait, the greater my
chances are of failure. And then
all hell will break loose.
Heero lifted his head and stared at the grungy duffle he’d
carried through
Resolute, having realized that he may never get another
chance, the youth who answered to the name Heero Yuy paced over to the writing
desk and removed a single sheet of stationary.
He picked up a pen and took a seat.
As soon as they see this, they’re sure to know. But by then, I’ll be long gone.
In spite of the fact that he was making himself vulnerable
by putting pen to paper, Heero carefully penned a short note, signed it, and
then encased it in an envelope. The
recipient’s name was carefully penned onto that, and then he glanced at the
deflated-looking duffle.
It was nearly three in the morning.
So little time.
So much uncertainty.
~End of Chapter 1~