The huge door clanked shut, both sides meeting softly, as he drew them together. The young man rested his head against them, running his hand on the left door, feeling the deep carved wood. The silence of the building that lay behind him touched his back softly. He closed his eyes, glad that they had gotten away and death had not claimed him today. He smiled, blowing a soft whistle of relief, and turned around, leaning his back against the wooded door, ready to share his joy with his friend. But, he was alone.
The young man frowned. Did he expect that boy to remain next to him for more than just a moment? No. He had been more than glad to finally be done with him. The young man crossed the small dark hall that lead inside the building, looking around for the other boy. He lay a hand on one of the seats, shaking his head, cursing himself for thinking that he would've been grateful.
The young man sat in the long, wooden seat and crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned back in the pew, stretching his sore muscles, and stared at the small, golden altar that branched before him. Jesus Christ in the cross hung above a thousand flowers and candles, banners of devotion hung at his sides. The altar rose majestically upwards, a circling dome with beautiful engravings. The statues of the Virgin Mother and the saints lined the walls, lighted by small white and blue candles.
The young man stared in silence, his soul feeling a strange sensation as he took in such beauty and splendour. Feeling like a lost child, humbled by the eyes of his God, he could only stare at the marble angels. He leaned forward silently, his eyes enraptured. He closed his eyes, thankful that they had found this cathedral, a place where the OZ would not follow them into. He smiled, his mind relaxing. This missions were becoming more dangerous each moment. He almost regretted ever agreeing to be a part of such a mission, but he smiled sadly. Someone had to stop the injustice.
Duo jerked his head up, thrown out of his reverie, as he heard faint steps in the cathedral. He frowned, reaching down for the gun in his belt. The steps became louder, yet slower. Duo lowered his gun, and his readiness, as he saw the other boy emerge from the darkness. The other young man did not look at him, just sat down wearily in one of the pews.
"Yatta," Duo breathed out, smiling. "There you are, Hiro."
Hiro raised his left leg on to the seat, looking up at the ceiling, not looking once at the altar. There was pain in his eyes, pain his body must feel as well, Duo thought, as he looked at Hiro's arm. It lay almost immobile next to the boy, bloody and scared. Duo frowned, remembering the first time he had met the boy, the horrible shape he had been in. He walked closer to the pew where Hiro sat, but came not closer, sensing the animosity the other boy felt for him.
"That was a close call, man," he said. He wanted to sound calm and serene. "I'm glad this cathedral was here. OZ soldiers have a lot of respect."
The other young boy turned away, not caring about what Duo was saying or how he was looking at him. Silent, he leaned back, away from Duo, and stared at the nothingness of the air. His face revealed nothing. No exhaustion after the long get away; no fear, after being almost killed; no remorse, after destroying the bases the mission assigned; no thankfulness for being alive. No hatred, no friendship. He just sat with his hands crossed over his legs, blank and uncaring.
Duo swallowed his words, something beginning to hurt inside from so many times he has tried to reach Hiro's attention, and failed. He shook those thoughts away, breaking away from the anger he felt inside, the desire to slap Hiro very hard, to reach down and hurt the boy, shake him, just to see what the reaction would be. Duo ran a hand over his bruised shoulder. No doubt Hiro would only look at him, his eyes cold and silent, and if Duo persisted in such actions, the boy would just shake him off. Not a word.
His small steps echoed much too loud in the empty cathedral. Duo wondered why there were no penitents in the building, mussing to himself. The young pilot looked up at the marble designs, his gaze shifting to Hiro every second or two. Hiro leaned back, his body sinking in the pew, his tired head resting against the wooden bench. The boy grimaced as he put his foot on the kneeling cushion under the seat. His ankle was probably broken. Imperfect, the boy thought, and ignored it, sending the pain to the back of his head. He closed his eyes, ignoring the black blood that ran down his hand, trickling down his fingers into the marble floor. Trailing softly. Hot.
"Aren't you going to tend that, Hiro," Duo said, his back towards the boy, pretending to admire the statue of Saint Joseph before him.
Duo closed his eyes, feeling the emptiness of the church swim about him, hurt him. He needed to talk more, move more; to get back into his old cheerful self. he shrugged softly, his aching shoulders complaining, and turned around. He needed to clear his head, to get good sleep, or he'd end up wacky. Like Hiro. He smiled sadly. Hiro had not even reacted to his voice.
Duo stood silent, staring at the boy, his mind racing a thousand thoughts None he'd dare say out loud. He looked at Hiro's face, the down at his small hand. Hiro's fingers clenched absentmindedly; the boy did not seem to care about the way he was bleeding. Hiro's eyes stared up at the hanging Jesus, but they didn't seem to be looking at the Christian God.
The darkness enveloped him, as if the evil were eating him slowly. Duo bit his lip, his head was going wild on him. The shadow the candles drew across the altar and into the pews seemed to be enveloping Hiro, taking the boy into itself. The young American pilot wanted to speak, wanted to call out to Hiro, to drag him from the shadow, but he stood quiet. His frayed nerves were too tired.
Duo shook his head, his braid hitting his lower back softly and grew bold, walking over and kneeling beside Hiro. He got down on his knees and took the boy's hand.
"If it's up to you," he said. "You'd die!"
He laughed grimly, cleaning the blood away from the boy's hand. He felt the bones, biting his lip as he discovered the horrible overlapping they had done. He reached for the handkerchief in his back pocket and worked on the hand quietly. He didn't dare look up as he worked. Hiro didn't speak, his eyes flickered softly as he looked at Duo. He narrowed his eyes, slightly angry that Duo had dared touch him.
"You lost a lot of blood Hiro," Duo said.
The pilot frowned, biting his lip and pressed slightly down on the wound. He wondered how Hiro had become this strong; the kind of training he had gone through that enabled the young boy to smash his fist into the machinery of the Gundam 01, breaking his hand, and still not even pay attention to it. How unlike himself, Duo thought. Duo laughed in his mind. He wasn't like other people, couldn't stand pain. It hurt him. He smiled, remembering the same lines from Loony Toons.
He looked up at Hiro's face, wondering if the boy had ever sat and watched a single episode of the Loony Toons. Of course he had, he reasoned, doesn't everyone? He frowned slightly as he met the boy's eyes. hard. Cold. Uncaring.
Duo got up, frowning at himself, and headed for one of the places in the wall where they kept Holy Water. He dipped the handkerchief in it. The again, he thought, Hiro must have never sat down to see any kind of cartoon. He looked back at the boy, who still sat on the pew as if he weren't on a church. As if Duo wasn't there at all. Why had Duo bothered to save him? He seemed dead already!
"This may sting a little, Hiro," Duo said as he got down again, taking the boy's hand. "Hold your breath, OK?"
Duo rubbed the wet cloth to the wounds, the water removing the blood and dirt. Hiro's eyes flickered, his frown becoming deeper. Hiro looked at Duo, puzzled at why he would got through so much trouble over him. The water sent a strange sensation up his spine.
Duo bit his lip, feeling the pain as well, amazed at how the bones had twisted. He was about to bandage the hand, when he noticed some nasty, deep scars, deep and punctured, around Hiro's wrists. They seemed nothing but deep white lines, mingled with his skin colour, but Duo's mind recognized what they were.
Hiro smirked grimly, watching the reaction the pilot made. He drew the hand away, taking the bandage Duo gave him. Duo sat back, watching the boy silently, as he wrapped the cloth tight around the hand.
"Ever wanted to die so badly it hurt?" Hiro asked. His voice echoed in the empty cathedral.
Duo shook his head, his bangs falling over his eyes. Hiro finished the bandage, pulling the wet cloth into a knot. The blood reddened the white cloth immediately. Duo frowned as he got up from the cold marble floor.
"I would have never met you, Hiro," Duo said. There was a strange sound to his voice. He walked across the soft red carpet in the aisle and sat next to the baptismal charms and leaned back on it.
Hiro sat forward, not wanting to talk. He looked at the long haired pilot, amazed by his urgency, bravery, and honesty. He frowned, staring at the altar, at what he considered silly statues of angels and saints, at the cloths that hung next to the cross.
"You wouldn't have come on this mission," Duo said. "You would've saved yourself from all this pain and death."
"I died back then."
Duo looked at the boy. Hiro was staring up at the huge hanging Jesus. It seemed to be moving softly, seeming to want to come down to the altar.
"Before I came to this mission, " Duo said, hardly a whisper. "I think I was dead too.."
Hiro looked at the young pilot, his brown eyes seeing him for the first time that night. Duo had rested his head on his hands, folded over his legs. His bangs hood his eyes and face. The young man waited for Hiro to talk again, but Hiro remained silent, staring at him. Then looked back at God.
******
Duo shook his head, feeling the darkness touch him, as if it were the hand of Death. He had been dreaming, but always his dream morphed into nightmares. He adjusted his eyes, placing the place where he had woken up again. He closed his eyes. Candelaria Cathedral. Free sector 19D. The mission that had been delivered to them had been completed, and they had abandoned their Mobile Suits and hood here, desperate to survive. He opened his eyes as their reality came back to him.
He shook his head, clearing his mind from the nightmares it had been having. All through the night he had woken up in intervals, reached out to grasp reality, found himself here, and drifted back to restless sleep. Only to wake again. The nightmares kept hunting him. Huge machines, its huge legs destroying the ground they invaded; their huge arsenals spitting fire at the streets; the cries of the people growing louder each time. Louder. He had been standing in a mountain in each dream, just standing and overlooking the destruction. As if he was part of the OZ, and he was the master mind behind the devastation. He had woken up each time he had seen the look of his eyes in the dreams. His eyes, so much evil and cruelty he saw in them. Not his eyes at all.
The dark ceiling with its huge domes loomed above him, dark and cold. He moved his hurting neck; it had stiffened from sleeping in a bad position. He looked at the pew where Hiro had fallen asleep. He got up from the floor, his back creaking immensely, looking about for Hiro, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. A sleepless night.
Hiro felt when the other boy woke up. He watched Duo in the darkness, as the boy stretched, walked around, and sat again in one of the pews. Duo was having a terrible night, he could tell. Like him, Duo had slept little if at all. The young boy turned his gaze back to the view outside the window he was sitting at.
Outside, a soft, gentle rain had begun to fall in the night. The streets were lit dimly with an occasional light post that had survived the Mobile Suit attack. There were a few night walker outside, taking the risk of walking in the war infested city. He looked at a lone man, battling with his umbrella, walking down the street, leaning against a mail box. The man seemed familiar to him, and ever so kind, but Hiro shook his head. Like Duo, dreams had kept him awake all night and the past kept crawling up from its darkness to wake him.
"Slept about as much as me, I guess, Hiro," Duo said, his voice groggy from lack of sleep in the darkness.
Hiro turned around his head, acknowledging the other boy's presence. He had known he had been looking at him. He wondered what Duo's violet eyes saw in him. Duo walked closer to one of the windows and looked down at the streets Hiro was looking at. Quiet rain hit the painted window glass. He rested his elbow in the stone arch around the window, and looked at the falling rain. It seemed so quiet outside, so different from his head.
Hiro had leaned back against the arch, shifting his tired legs, Duo noticed. The boy couldn't help but look at Hiro's now bare feet; at how tiny and delicate they looked. Duo smiled grimly, running a hand over his hair. It needed a good washing, and a good combing, but there was no time for such things. Hiro got up from the window arch, and walked to the back of the penitence box, going around the altar, his bare feet hardly making any noise. Duo drew away from the window, watching the man with the umbrella walk into one of the coffee shops along the street.
Duo walked back to the pews, looking at the many statues that lined the walls, at the Virgin Mother that held the long candle, the patron of the cathedral. He smiled, remembering the many tales about her he knew as a child. She, her lovely dark eyes and dark hair, looked down at him silently, the long candle in her hand shinning in the darkness. Duo turned his head, looking at Hiro, who stood by the ambón.
"Will you return to your Gundam Suit?" Duo said, his voice sounding strange in the darkness.
Hiro looked intensely at the Virgin he had been looking at and did not answer. Duo frowned, cursing himself. Why couldn't Hiro at least pretend to be in this world and do a little talking? That was a good way to make this hellish night to end. Duo looked outside at the rain. The dawn seemed so far away, yet the night had gone on forever.
"Who is she?"
Duo gasped and turned his head to look at Hiro. He had spoken, his voice lifeless in the darkness, his eyes unceasingly looking at the statue. Duo blinked and looked back at the Mother Virgin, running a hand over his hair.
"She is the Lady of Cinders," Duo answered. "The Virgin of the Candles and patron of this cathedral."
Hiro looked at the statue closer, his brown eyes devoid of any feelings, his mouth closed tight. He walked closer to see her better, coming closer to Duo's side. The statue was beautiful, her long blue robes lined with golden. Her hair hung down over her breasts, curly and dark. A lovely crown of gold adorned her head, and the long, white candle she held in her hand seemed to reach towards eternity. The wall she was part of was adorned with the richest of golden engravings, the Neo-classical architecture surrounding her set her majestically apart. Duo looked at Hiro silently, wondering if he saw the beauty as well.
"She is the mother of God, granted life without sin," Duo said, as Hiro stood silent. "It is common to burn and gather cinders in her honour in some parts of the country. Looks like this cathedral is a replica of the one in Mayagüez. A very old city, mind you, and I have never been at it, but in my orphanage they used to tell me all about other countries. Maybe after I am done with these missions, I'll go there. They say they sell great drinks there, good sangria. I'd have to see for myself-"
Duo fell silent as Hiro turned around, his brown eyes angry, annoyed at such ramblings. The young pilot blushed, aware that he talked too much sometimes, and angry at Hiro. He had asked who she was, hadn't he?
Duo wondered what was going on in the boy's mind. He wished he could find out, and take it away. Whatever it was. Duo wanted to share his thoughts with the boy, tell him about the many things he had seen, the stories about the Virgin, but he didn't dare. Hiro was such a strange boy. Lightning lit the building, its noise booming, echoing in the ceiling. Duo cringed his teeth. He had never much liked lightning. Hiro's brown eyes were looking at him again.
The long haired boy laughed wearily, ashamed that such silly things scared him. He stopped, old nightmares coming back to his head. Hiro frowned, looking at him more intently. The boy bit his lip, looking at Hiro. Silently, Hiro sat down, letting his tired body and broken legs collapse bellow his heavy body. Duo watched as the boy slid into the ground, the white altar hiding him.
"Doushita, Hiro...?"
The young man only looked at him, his eyes revealing a human tiredness that Duo had never seen before. The young boy frowned, his heart aching for Hiro. How he wished he could take whatever thorn lay in the boy's soul. The night indeed was tiring, the long runaway seemed like a nightmare now along with the desperate plan. The wild mission had collapsed after the OZ officials had taken control of the base again. Deathscythe and the 01 had been abandoned recklessly, counting on their intelligence and logistics to prove better. OZ had proved better, not them. Both machines' self destroy mechanisms had been activated, and both boys had run off into the night. Chance had kept them alive, luck and Heaven's mercy.
Duo closed his eyes, thanking God that he had kept them alive. Hiro lay his head backwards, his eyes closed. The boy was so tired, his body ached as if Death was coming for him, but it was taking too long. Duo slid down into the floor, staying a few feet away from Hiro, giving the boy privacy. He looked at his face, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm tired, Hiro," Duo said. "When will this night be over, and this cursed war?"
Hiro looked at him, his eyes darkening. Without the war, Duo wondered, Hiro was nothing. He wondered if Hiro had any family to return to when this was all over; if he would stay with Relena. Hiro's head slid forward into his chest. It was becoming too tired to keep up for much longer. Sleep was taking over, his whole body wanted to sleep and he had lost so much blood his limbs were weak. Duo watched the boy struggle to stay awake, perhaps fearing that someone would catch him sleeping, unprepared. Defeat. Failure had always haunted Hiro, ever since he met him.
"Not any time soon."
Hiro folded his arms over his legs, drawing them nearer, and stared up at the hanging cross that now hung above both boys. His eyes seemed to become lighter, its colour shinning at him in the darkness. The dark shadows the candles created, twisted his features, making deep lines in the boy's face. Hiro blinked, his eyelids moving faster than usual. Death would not catch any of them unawares.
Duo smiled sadly. He would never know what lay inside Hiro's head. Indeed this war would never end, it will only grow bigger, until it blows itself out. Duo shook his head sadly, wishing he was just a spectator, and not the Angel of Death, coming to declare war on Earth. Duo held his breath, looking at Hiro, who now looked at him across the darkness, silently.
The perfect soldier, many people called him. Quiet, lethal and violent. Bloody and cruel. Hiro's eyes revealed all of those things, all the things the reporters in TV had created for his profile. Duo wanted to speak, to reach out for Hiro's hand, and squeeze it. Hiro's eyes revealed a loneliness he could never understand. In the dark shadows, his eyes weary, his body about to collapse from exhaustion, his mouth dry, and his soul dead, Hiro looked beautiful. A soft angel sitting at the mercy of God and of the world. Duo held in his breath, seeing those things for the first time in the boy, wondering what Hiro saw in him. Silently, Duo closed his eyes, wanting to keep that small beauty he had seen in Hiro's tired face. When he opened his eyes, Hiro was looking up at the hanging statue of Jesus and at the statue of the Virgin of Cinders. Duo blinked, watching the boy's eyes become blue, life penetrating them.
"Teach me her prayer, Duo."
There was a silence. Duo stared at him, his violet eyes still searching for the reason behind Hiro's still face. He smiled, his own lips hurting from the cold. He looked up at the statue, then at Hiro. Hiro was looking at him silently, his eyes growing light blue. Duo sat forward, his hands clasping together softly. He closed his eyes, feeling slightly stupid. Did Hiro really want to know the prayer, or was he mocking him? He opened his left eye, searching Hiro's expression. Waiting.
Duo sighed softly, the weigh of the silence, of the expectation, too heavy on him. He wanted this stupid wars to end; he wanted to go home; he wanted to stand up and walk off to the streets like he used to in L-2. Wanted to get up and run back to his girl, back to Hilde. He wanted to teach Hiro so badly the simple prayer, the soft chant. Wanted to speak, but his damned lips wouldn't open.
"Holy Mother of Cinders..." his voice sounded shrill in the darkness, his sore throat in pain. Hiro closed his eyes, leaning back into the altar. Duo blinked, his mind tossed to the back of his skull. He stared at Hiro silently, his mouth gaping, his heart aching for the boy. Hiro, he thought, you want this war to end as well.
"Salve, Mother," he continued. "Listen to us while we lie in a forgotten valley of tears. Oh, Immaculate One, oh Sweet One. Return to us those your merciful eyes, so that we may be able to see our Lord."
He stopped. The darkness ate his words. The prayer was longer, but he couldn't go on. His eyes had become foggy with tears, his voice clear in the dark, but his soul was afraid. So afraid. Hiro opened his eyes, looking at the statue. A beautiful peace came to the boy's eyes. Peace.
Duo smiled, brushing his tears with his fingers. He looked at Hiro, seeing all the wonderful things that he had missed. That many miss. I am lucky, he thought, to have seen you smile, Hiro. He smiled silently, watching the boy's eyes become sky blue, watching the boy's eyes find his. In silence, both boys stared at each other. That was the reason why I risked my life for you, Hiro, Duo thought, because I saw this part of you. Even then when we met in that hospital and you were tied like an animal.
The darkness grew slightly brighter as the lightning storm grew in size. The candle flames danced madly in the wind. The young boy smiled wearily. Somehow they would have to get their Mobile Suits back, and return to the colonies. The OZ had taken the upper hand of things. That's bad, very bad, Duo thought as he stretched his arms. He stopped, watching Hiro's face. His eyes had grown slightly, his attention taken. He was listening to something. Duo gritted his teeth softly.
There was someone in the cathedral.
Hiro's eyes returned to their dark blue colour, his pupils enlarging slowly. Like a cat, waiting feraly, he pulled his legs up. His hands clenched menacingly, his left hand reaching for the weapon in his belt. Duo watched grimly as the boy returned to his usual silence, his eyes no longer seeing the world, but just staring out at it. Cold. Duo bit his lip, angered at Hiro, angered at the stranger that had come in. Hiro slid like a feline, his slender legs moving fast and agile. He turned to look at Duo, but then turned away. Duo looked down, his head aching. He was alone again.
The man that had walked in shook his umbrella, the rain drops hitting the marble floor softly. His footsteps echoed softly, his shoes drumming on the marble slightly as he stepped inside the dark building. He stepped over to the Holy Water and christened himself, bowing slightly at the cross. Using his umbrella as a cane, he walked silently and reverently to the pews. Duo stood up slowly, his eyes narrowing to get a better look at his face. He gasped softly.
It was the same man they had been watching from the window.
The man appeared surprised as the two boys emerged from the shadows. He gasped, staring silently at the two slender figures as they moved in the dark, and grasped his umbrella tighter. He had assumed, Duo thought, that the cathedral was empty. He must have been scared of his wits when both boys materialized out of nowhere.
"Dare desu ka?"
Duo smiled softly, ashamed to have made the man scared. Upon closer look the man looked older, leaning heavily on the umbrella as if tired from the long walk. The young boy looked at Hiro. The other boy was looking at the old man with narrowed eyes.
"Just faith followers, turning to God in this dismal times," Duo said.
The old man moved his head slightly, his grey hair covering his eyes. There was a strange countenance to his silence, to the way he sat on the pew, looking at the boys intently. Hiro noted the way he was looking at him, his hands clenching harder.
"Why are you here tonight, sir?" Hiro asked, his voice a bit too sharp, too lethal.
Duo frowned, looking at Hiro's body as it moved slowly up along the window lined wall, getting closer to the old man. The boy was moving with an agility only he could see, like a tiger stalking its prey. Ready to pounce.
Duo looked back at the old man, wondering if the civilian could see the way Hiro was stalking him. He's just a poor soul coming to the house of the Lord, Hiro, Duo though, his own hands clenching. There was a growing strange feeling crawling up his legs. He didn't like the silence Hiro walked in, the slow steps he was taking, the way his eyes were looking at the old man. Duo walked faster, his spine curling with fear. The young American pilot bit his lip, shaking his head. Yamete, Duo, he thought. This is Hiro. You can trust him.
"You boys hiding from something?" the old man asked, staring at the empty seats, watching the candles that lined the penitence stools.
Hiro didn't answer, only came closer to the old man, as the pew he was sitting met with the lined windows. The old man looked at the boy, his aged eyes narrowing. Duo speeded his movement, cursing under his breath that the old man had showed up. Sometimes people seem to be at places where they should not be. Duo gasped as one of the window latches to the far corner of the cathedral burst open. He looked back, his braid beating against his back as he turned.
The wind slammed the window hard against the wall. The rain poured horribly over the pews, over the floor. Duo's heart quickened as he turned around. The eerie feeling was climbing to his chest. It hurt to walk, his eyes becoming larger. He looked at Hiro's silent figure just a few pews away. The old man was looking at the pouring rain, his eyes narrowing deeper.
Hiro stopped, falling into a still stand, staring coldly at the old man. Shaking his head, the man turned his gaze back to the boy. Hiro's cold eyes seemed to bore into his own. The man drew the umbrella up to his lap, his small eyes taking in the small boy's figure. The wind coming in howled softly, echoing in the building.
"You look as if someone was following you, boy," the old man told Hiro. His eyes flashed softly, his hands gripping the umbrella tighter.
The old man gasped as Hiro pointed his gun at him, the boy's eyes full of hatred. Duo cursed under his breath, his chest contracting painfully. The feeling was beginning to choke him. He held his breath, his mind going crazy. What the fuck are you doing, Hiro, he thought over and over. Hiro didn't even seem to acknowledge that Duo was walking his way. The boy's eyes had frozen, possessed by the same strange evil Duo had seen when he had bandaged his hand. The same evil he had seen when they had met, not long ago, in that hospital. Hiro had wanted to die then.
The old man raised his hand, still holding his umbrella. His aged eyes grew wide, his old heart racing. Hiro smiled coldly.
"Don't act as if this is the first time," Hiro said. His voice echoed in the darkness.
The old man gasped, his eyes flashing slightly. Hiro didn't move, closer nor further, just held the man with the weapon. Waiting.
"Dame yo, Hiro," Duo called out, his voice weakened and hardly audible due to the wind, that had suddenly picked up. He reached to grasp one of the pews. "He's just a civilian. What are you doing?"
Duo gasped as Hiro looked at him, the boy's eyes becoming blue for a slight moment, kind, like they used to be. The young pilot seemed to pity Duo, as if the American didn't understand something that he did. Duo wanted to speak, to call out towards Hiro, but the boy's eyes had turned evil again. Duo gasped, his mind screaming. Hiro was looking at him the same way he was looking at the old man.
The man gasped as Hiro drew the trigger back, the young boy's eyes narrowing. A scream was forming inside his throat, his mind loosing its control as the young boy's lips twisted into a smile.
"You're crazy..." he whispered.
Hiro smiled, his finger releasing the trigger slowly, his eyes laughing cruelly. The old man screamed as the boy shot him once, on his chest. Duo screamed, his voice lost in the echoes of the screams and the shots.
"Hiro!" Duo ran towards the boy, his eyes hardly believing what they saw. "Stop it, Hiro! He's just an old man!"
Hiro didn't look at him, nor at the old man, who drew his breath in weakly, reaching down for his umbrella. Hiro shot him again before he reached it, in his shoulder. Duo gripped his head, his black cap flying off, his head screaming in pain. The old man gurgled blood as his head slammed backwards on the seat, his old eyes looking up at Hiro. The boy smiled wider, his eyes flashing wickedly. He drew closer to the old man's body, shooting over and over again. Mercilessly, like an angel of Death.
"Hiro!" Duo cried out, begging the boy to stop, but his voice was drowned out by the rain and the wind; by the echoes. Hiro laughed wickedly as the old man's body slammed the pew, the gun shots penetrating the wooden bench, breaking through. The loud echoes reverberated in the building as the rain poured like a madness into the darkness. Duo's heart ached as he heard Hiro's laughter, as he felt the world spin away from his grasp. Away into madness.
The old man's broken body, torn and destroyed, fell into the red carpet in the aisle. His blood darkened the carpet, running free into the marble. Hiro stared at the old man's open eyes, frozen in death, and grinned wryly. He leaned down and pulled the man's coat up to the man's neck. He straightened up again, his eyes closed. Mission accomplished. He turned around as he felt The other boy's presence. Hot, in his back.
Hiro's eyes met those of Duo. He stared silently at the other boy's angry, passionate eyes. They seem to hold a hatred that Hiro had never seen in them; a deep anger emanated from those violet eyes. Disappointment. Duo's hands were clenched in tight fists at his sides, his mouth twisted in pain. His voice was barely a whisper.
"You killed him..." he said. "Murderer. Hiro, this man had done nothing to us. We didn't even know him..."
Hiro looked at him silently, his eyes still cold, his body leaning sideways like a cat, waiting to attack again. Not satisfied by his meal. Yet.
"How could you, Hiro...?" Duo said, taking a step closer to the boy. "What the hell were you thinking? What the hell did they teach you before you came to Earth, to kill? It seems to me, that all they taught you was blind murder..."
Hiro raised his head slowly, Duo's words like sharp knifes on his ears. His eyes narrowed as Duo's figure came closer. Too close for comfort.
"I can't believe it..." Duo said. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Hiro!?"
Hiro's eyes flashed dangerously as he raised his gun, his finger on the trigger. Duo's eyes looked at him, burning in anger, looking at Hiro's hand on the gun. The young boy gasped silently, but didn't move back. Hiro's eyes were blank, expressionless.
"Will you kill me too, Hiro?" Duo said. "Kill me. Like you killed this man, and many others in your deranged lust for blood."
Duo walked closer, his braid swinging sideways. Hiro walked backwards, away from the pews, holding the gun at Duo, his eyes still cold. Duo grinned sadly, his eyes becoming dark pools of sorrow and anger.
"Go ahead, Hiro!" Duo said, his voice becoming louder as his passion took over.
The young American hit the bench next to him, wanting to destroy something, feeling his soul reach out to destroy as well. He looked at Hiro, his mouth gasping for air, disbelieving that the boy could have the power, the evil, to destroy everything. Even the only other friend he had. The boy who had risked his life so often for him, who always came back to see he was safe, who sat staring at the sky wondering where he was. He felt his eyes fill with tears, but he swallowed them back. Hiro only stared at him, like he always did. Motionless, heartless, uncaring. Like always.
"Kill me too, Hiro!" Duo screamed, his voice a loud broken sob, his eyes narrowing in sorrow. "KILL ME!"
The young man gasped softly, his breath stolen from his body, as Hiro shot. His body flew backwards into the wall, his head hitting it hard. His soul screamed, as he heard the echoes in the darkness, as he looked at Hiro's cold eyes. His eyes wide, his arms limp by his sides, his legs unbuckled beneath him, he could only look at Hiro in silence, feeling his own blood run over his black shirt.
Silence caressed their faces, softly as both boys looked at each other across the darkness. The rain blew into the pews, the wind playing with the candles, blowing them out. Duo closed his eyes, griping reality. The pain rushed up his limbs, slowly reaching his head. He put a hand over the wound, feeling the blood run through his fingers. He bit his lip, cursing himself. Cursing fate and cruel reality. He opened his eyes slowly. There was a soft sound coming from Hiro, soft and faint.
Hiro dropped his gun, its loud thud echoing in the hollow cathedral a thousand times. Duo looked at the young man's face. It was twisted, his eyes narrowed in deep sorrow. That sorrow he had seen before he had asked him to pray, when he was human again. Those eyes had become blue again, his big eyes capable of narrowing into evil pools, now small and were full of pain. And small tears. Duo gasped as a full tear ran down Hiro's cheek. Silently, it traced his face, running down into his lips. Duo held his breath, watching it crawl down slowly.
Hiro sank to his knees, his head bowed, his arms limp by his sides. Defeated. He shook his head, his face hidden now by his hair. Duo leaned forward, his soul quiet, feeling all of his body fall silent. His blood was the only sound he felt in himself.
Duo staggered up to his feet, his mind growing dizzy, his hands gripping his wound savagely, holding on to his bloodlife. He leaned back on the wall for balance, closing his eyes as pain invaded his body. It hurt to stand up, his wound breaking open wider as he moved. Or so he believed wryly, as he stood straight. He looked at Hiro's broken body, the small boy sobbing silently.
Hiro bit his lip as , the tears running off his nose. He felt his chest hurt, the air gone from his lungs. He hated himself, all of himself. He felt his body grow cold in the emptiness as if he was sinking into the darkness in the cathedral. He closed his eyes, wishing desperately that this war was over, like Duo had said. Wanting to pray, wishing that Duo's God would hear him too. He wanted this stupid war to end, wanted the OZ or Federation, who cared who they were, to stop all this pandemonium. Just stop all of this insanity.
The young boy gasped as Duo's hand grasped his shoulder.
The young pilot looked up, into the eyes of the young man. Duo's eyes looked down at him, determined and strong. They shone with a vibrant fire, a powerful understatement. Hiro gasped as he saw himself reflected in those eyes. Duo closed one of them in pain, his face twisting as he tried not to show that he was in deep pain. Hiro felt his throat hurt as Duo smiled, a soft, beautiful smile.
Hiro gasped as Duo's hand tightened on his shoulder, his silent gesture speaking a thousand words, his friendship beating strongly in his body. He looked at him in silence, feeling Duo's invisible wings wrap over him. Duo, the angel of Mercy and Death, wrapping his wings over him. He looked into the angel's violet eyes, feeling his soul naked, broken by Duo's strong soul. Hot like his blood.
"I forgive you, Hiro," Duo said.
Hiro, his eyes smiling softly,
his mouth pressed in silence, reached up his bandaged hand and lay it over
Duo's hand.
Author's Note, May 1997
I hope you enjoyed the
Chicago Bulls and the 1997 NBA Playoffs, ne! Rodman and Jordan! WOW! BULLS!!!!
© May 22, 1997. Written while taking Economy at UCF in summer A. No part may be reproduced without permission from the authors. Thank you! Hope that you are enjoying the NBA playoffs and the best team ever, the Chicago Bulls!