This is sort of an alternate piece to my fanfic "The Road Not Taken." We had an assignment in my honors english class to interpret a poem, play, or story from our book in any form we liked - art, written word, music, etc. I chose to write a short story about the famous Frost poem. Since I already had written the other fanfic, I figured it wouldn't be too difficult to re-write it a bit and actually make it an interpretation.

Heh. Yeah right.

I quickly found out that this particular Frost poem was great misread much of the time (as I actually did when writting my first GW fanfic on it). I wanted to give a *different* interpretation, see the poem in a way no one was seeing it. And I did, thanks to some help from my professor. ^_^ So here it is... a fanfic I'm terribly proud of, since you have to dig kinda deep to get the hidden meanings in everything.

Just to warn you GW fanfics, I had to kinda tone down some stuff so that my classmates could understand it. I changed some things, added others. Just see this is an AU fanfic, and everything will be jeeeest fine. ^_^ ~Arishia-chan~

The Walk
By: Arishia-chan

I decided to take a walk that day.

"Where are you going, Heero?" Relena had asked, her face expectant, eyes large. The servants all stopped their duties and their focus turned towards me, not for the first time since I came to live with the former Queen of the World.

"Out," I said, taking special care to keep my voice monotone. "Don't wait up for me."

Relena's face had crumpled and her eyes grew a sheen over them. For one second I saw the girl that lay beneath the world leader and then she had turned on her heel, disappearing as quickly as the servants returned to their tasks.

What induced me to decide to leave her? Relena had given me a bed to sleep on, something usually nonexistent, and the chance to continue working as a peace minister or, better still, her own personal bodyguard. And yet leaving had been so easy; I got up from my chair, opened the front door, and . . . walked.

The bright sun overhead signaled that I had been walking for about three hours now. The steady, indignant crunching beneath my boots urged me further, so different than the smooth metallic cockpit of the machine that now seemed covered in blood. I had abandoned the Gundam suit to rust in a history museum, just like the wars had abandoned me and the other four Gundam pilots by abruptly ending last year, just like I had abandoned Relena.

It was a cold day, so cold even the sun offered little warmth to my exposed face and neck. I ducked my head into my collar and shoved numb fingers into the slate-grey overcoat I wore, trudging onward until I could see the break in the road up ahead.

A brief rustle of feathery wind caused the canopying tree boughs to shower more crisp leaves. I stopped to watch them flutter gently, adding to an already voluminous bed of their fellows. The breeze fled by my ear in its easy path and I hurriedly withdrew a hand to clasp my collar nearer to frosty skin.

"Heero buddy," came a softly calling voice.

"Who's there?" I demanded, my right hand poised over the gun always concealed within my overcoat.

"Heero buddy," the voice breathed again. "When the war's over, whaddya suppose we should do with our lives?"

I spun around, expecting to see the boy of which the quiet whisper belonged to standing behind me. My single set of depressions in the leave-coated road stared mockingly up at me. My eyes, forever cold daggers to those who were unfortunate enough to meet them, trailed up my foot route leading back to the clipped and tended-for gardens, leading to the cultured mansion that had been my residence for nearly a year. I turned swiftly back around again to find nothing there as well, only the stillness of the forest and a wafting of fresh leaves upon the divided path before me.

A year. It had been a year since I last saw Duo. That day rooted so deeply etched in my memory, his voice so clear, that I had thought my fellow Gundam pilot stood with me once again. The red and gold and orange leaves reminded me of a year ago when the braided-haired sprite taught me how to properly enjoy the season called Autumn.

I widened my stance and balled up my fists so tight my nails dug into my calloused palms. I frowned and let myself sink into my memory.

"Heero! Heero! Heero buddy! Ya can't ever catch me so why bother trying?"

"You provoked me on purpose," I accuse. I am once more amazed at the American's endless supply of sugar-fed energy, and angry that he knows exactly how to 'get under my skin.'

Duo stops prancing about long enough to settle his hands on slim hips and flash a pink tongue at me. "So what if I did? Some fresh air never hurt a Gundam pilot, now did it?"

"A new mission came in," I say sternly and turn to stalk out of the forest.

"Aw, come on!" he protests loudly and grabs my upper arm. "Please! Just take a short break with me!"

"I just did," I reply flatly.

"Just a walk!" he persists. "I hate being in that empty old mansion. Just take a short walk with me and I won't bother you for another fifteen minutes!" His eyes do that violet, sparkly thing and I unwillingly grunt my acceptance.

Grinning victoriously, Duo leads the way further into the towering oak trees surrounding us. We walk in silence for awhile with only the rhythmic crunch crunch of our footsteps as a companion.

"Hey, Heero buddy, isn't it beautiful?"

"What is?" I ask.

"This!" I look over at him to see the boy throw his arms wide open and twirl around in a circle, his long rope of hair arching wildly. For the first time I notice the multitude of scattered leaves above us and below us and fluttering down from their owners. So many glaringly bright colors. One alights on Duo's upturned face and he puffs a breath to push it on a continuing course downward with the others. Yes, it is beautiful, but I don't answer the braided boy.

I hear a cluttered rustling. Duo scoops up an armful of leaves and adds them to a colorful growing pile he has already formed. I watch him in mild curiosity, staying sufficiently detached from the whole scene.

"What are you doing?" I ask at length.

One of his large eyes closes in a wink, but he doesn't look at me. He steps back as if to study his creation, then clicks his tongue and nods. "That'll do."

"Do for what?" I feel like I'm echoing myself and Duo's unresponsiveness isn't helping any. "Duo-"

My eyes narrow when he walks over to me and clasps my hands in his. "This way," he urges, giving a little tug. I don't know why, but I allow him to guide me to stand by his knee-deep pile of leaves, facing away from the bright hues.

"Stay there," he orders lightly.

"Duo--" I begin.

He drops my hands and moves beside me in a similar position. He seems excited for some reason. I grit my teeth in annoyance.

"*Duo*" I say more forcibly.

"Fall," he dictates.

"What?" I start to escape but his hand on mine stops me.

"Heero buddy," he says. "Just fall already."

As before, I don't know why, but I do as he requests. I hold my breath and we both collapse backward onto the pile. Color gets thrown up in the air, surging around the two of us. We lay there awhile, panting quietly even though we had not exerted ourselves. Our faces are flushed, cobalt and violet eyes wide, mouths sucking in gasps of air.

"That was . . ." I pause, because no words can describe how Duo's gift feels.

His soft chuckles fill my ears. "*That*, Heero buddy, was the proper way to enjoy Autumn."

"Aah," I utter, noncommittal. The crisp smell of the leaves still lingers. I ponder how silly we must look-- two boys laying sprawled out in a pile of leaves. Then I realize I don't care. I don't care if the others find me acting out of character. I don't care if the war ends, or if I ever fight again. All that matters is Duo . . . and me . . . and this single, tiny, fragile moment.

Duo rolls over to his side, propping his head up with a slender hand. "Hey, Heero buddy, when the war's over, whaddya suppose we should do with our lives?"

I snapped back to the present and found myself laying in a pile of leaves at the edge of the road. The masses billowed beneath my arms and legs and pillowed my head. My breath exhaled swirly white clouds. My eyes were leaking some kind of moisture and I sat up to rub the wetness away. Leaves stuck to my back and hair and I brushed them off as I got to my feet. Snorting in an annoyed manner, I thrust my fists into my overcoat.

Suddenly I cried out and jerked my right hand out of the pocket. Something icy had bit into my fingers and I heard a small thud as that something fell to the ground. Rubbing the cold-bitten hand, I stooped over the offending article.

My fingers streaked, they were shaking so rapidly. I slowly reached out and tentatively curled still-tingling fingers round the cold, ruby pendant. My vision turned blurry, like gazing outside when rain runs in rivulets down stained glass. I closed my eyes and remembered . . .

The boy rolls over to his side, propping his head up with a slender hand, mouth split into a tooth-revealing grin. His liability-- a long braid-- dangles over one boney shoulder.

"Hey, Heero buddy," Duo says, absentmindedly running his other hand through his thick bangs. "When the war's over, whaddya suppose we should do with our lives?"

"Hn," I emit what I think is a sufficient answer. He just looks at me though, blue-violet depths patiently awaiting more than a vague noise. "Prevent," I say carefully, having to search for real words. "Prevent more wars from breaking out."

"Oh." His mouth turns down and it seems somehow that I have disappointed him. He lays again in the crinkly bed of leaves, eyes turning to the sky peeking through the trees' arms. A gangly leg drapes over the other and dips up and down in the air.

I decide to offer a question. "Duo, what are *you* going to do after the wars?"

"Laugh," he answers without hesitation.

I didn't understand what he meant. Duo Maxwell laughs all the time. Night and day and at meals and during funerals. He laughs at the other three Gundam pilots: at Quatre when the boy offers him yet another cup of flavored tea; at Trowa when the other always runs out of bullets in the heat of battle; at Wufei when the Chinese boy refuses to admit to any weaknesses. He laughs at me when I tell him to shut up over and over. Duo Maxwell *is* laughter.

"Duo, you laugh a lot already," I inform him.

"No, I have never laughed," he states softly. Then he sits up and sweeps a hand gracefully at the woods. "Down that path, after many, many miles, the oak trees melt into slender trees. You know the dogwoods, Heero buddy? The one's with the white and pink cross blossoms?" I nod, even though I don't. "Well," he continues, resting his chin on his knees. "The ground starts angling upward and at the top of the mountain there's a small cabin with dogwoods practically hiding it from view." He turns and his violet eyes envelope me. "*That's* where I'm going after the wars are over."

After a long silence, I ask quietly, "Duo, what path?"

He scoots over to me and presses his warm cheek against my cool one so he can see exactly what I am seeing. "Oh, I suppose you can't see it," he says shortly. "The path is really hard to find because no one's bothered to use it in a long time." He frowns a little. "Okay, so never." He suddenly grabs the folds of my grey overcoat.

"W-what?" I sputter as he reaches up to pull a scarlet item from under his black shirt.

"Heero buddy, I want you to have this," he tells me. Before I can object, Duo snaps the chain and thrusts the pendant deep into my pocket.

"Why?" I ask.

"So you won't forget," he says simply. "Where to find me after the wars. And then, if you want, you can teach me to laugh."

I wonder why he thinks *I* could teach him to laugh. I, who has slaughtered thousands and will slaughter more. I, who can't even smile.

Not explaining, Duo rises to his feet and pulls me up with him. We dust each other off, ridding ourselves of the clinging leaves, and walk silently back towards Relena's mansion to accept our next mission. The pendant lays forgotten within my pocket, until . . .

Until now, I realized. My eyes stung. I straightened, not losing my iron grip on the ruby pendant. I walked a few paces onward and froze when I reached the point where the road split into two different paths.

The first curved and returned to Relena's mansion; the roof already peeked over the tree boughs. I knew that Relena promised security and a high society life; she believed in me as her hero, her protector. The second, just as equal and worn, led into the nearest city. I would be instantly recognized there as a Gundam pilot, as the savior of humanity. I knew I would be called the Great Peacemaker and be placed on a pedestal while the world promised fame and honor.

Perhaps years from now, in a future where war existed only faintly in the mind of an elder and never entered the mind of a child, someone who could not laugh would wonder what happened to the great Heero Yuy. Perhaps I would wonder the same thing. At that moment in the Autumn-possessed forest, the great Heero Yuy, the one who survived the wars, the one who carried so many aged and fresh scars, passed away in a flutter of leaves.

And I, with a curve of my lips and a sigh in my heart, went blindly searching for a path I could not see, truly beginning my walk that day.

*****owari*****

Arishia-chan's note: The following essay is the essay I wrote to accompany this fanfic for class. You can read it, if you like, to get a better understanding of what I wanted to accomplish.

To Make a Decision

When I heard that our next English project could be anything we wanted, as long as it interpreted the text, I was thrilled. Finally, I could boast creativity by writing a story, my passion for many years. So I decided to take a poem from my favorite poet, Robert Frost, and combine it with anime (Japanese animation), my other great passion. I chose the Frost poem The Road Not Taken and the anime called Mobile Suit Gundam Wing.

I decided to use Gundam Wing because I could see the main character, Heero Yuy, in the same situation as the speaker in the poem; he must make a choice. Heero, an emotionless assassin, never was one for making rash decisions. He would study one option, then the other, and conclude the best verdict on both. During one scene I could never forget, Heero journeyed to an enemy prison Duo was being held captive in. He intended to kill Duo so that the other Gundam pilot could not be used by the enemy. Instead, Heero helped a battered and weak Duo escape, nearly costing both of them their lives. This odd friendship, combined with the sorrow I saw in both boys' eyes, enticed me enough to use them as the focal point in the short story.

Now that I had my main characters, along with their clashing personalities, I needed to created the two separate yet equal roads mentioned in Frost's poem. Gundam Wing, nearly choked with the assembly of colorful characters and subplots, again provided the necessary scenarios I needed. Heero and Duo were active participants in the many horrible wars that shattered their futuristic world but not all of the characters in Gundam Wing fought. The female lead of the show, Relena Peacecraft, known for her pacifistic ideals, constantly tried to attract Heero's attention. To her, he lead the wild life she never knew; to Heero, Relena posed as the peace he never lived in. So I took these two canon characters and created a "what if." What if Relena had actually attracted Heero's attention after the wars ended? Thus my first 'road' was born. The second, more vague one, simply gave Heero a path away from Relena, yet to something very similar: the life of a celebrated war hero. With my two 'roads' and the three characters from Gundam Wing, my short story came easily.

Heero pondered which path he should take, a clear, set choice, but then Duo's offered friendship stepped in and brought Heero's assurance crashing down around him like painted leaves in the forest. How does the story end? In a way, I left that up for the reader to decide. At the conclusion of Frost's poem, the reader was not told the speaker's choice; which path the speaker chose and where that path ultimately led. Heero never really said which path he chose as well; "someone who could not laugh would wonder what happened to the great Heero Yuy. Perhaps I would wonder the same thing." This sort of wry humor could lead one to believe that both paths ultimately brought Heero no joy and therefore it did not matter which he chose anyway.

Did he actually pick either path? Frost stated in his poem that the speaker chose "the one less traveled by" (line 19) and that it "made all the difference" (line 20). The speaker could have been meaning the opposite, depending on how those verses were said aloud. Yet the title of the poem indicated that perhaps the speaker decided to take a different route altogether. Duo related to Heero near the end of the short story: "Oh, I suppose you can't see it. The path is really hard to find because no one's bothered to use it in a long time . . . okay, so never." Duo could have meant his own life rather than an actual road in the forest; he offered Heero a token of friendship as real as the pendant Duo gave him.

Frost entitled his poem The Road Not Taken for a reason. No one had ever bothered to befriend Duo before, and so Heero decided to veer off to do so. Heero himself said at the very end that he went blindly searching for a path he could not see, another hint that he wanted to find the path that would ultimately lead him to Duo. However the reader wished interpret The Road Not Taken, Heero definitely was a changed person in the short story from then on, whether he found 'the road not taken' or not.

~~the end~~