The rain
flooded against the window, drowning it, as if it were baptising the aged
house. Clouds hung grey and heavy in
the sky, obscuring the view of the gardens or the river on the other side of
them. The world, it seemed, had
succumbed to those clouds, bathed in melancholy and bleeding into that still,
silent grey. Except for the rain on the
window--rhythmic, solid, almost soothing.
It was the rain
that Heero had been staring at for the past two hours, as he contemplated the
most difficult decision of his life.
No--that wasn't
right. It wasn't the decision that was
hard, but rather the acting on it.
Heero Yuy, who in his entire life had never shied away from a mission,
no matter how difficult, was balking at what should have been such a simple
act.
Just walk away.
But he couldn't
do it. Once, perhaps he could
have--packed his things and vanished into the night, leaving Relena to wonder
where he had gone and if he would come back.
But that was a younger Heero, and a less human one.
He wasn't
fighting a war, now. There was no-one
left to battle but himself.
He'd stayed
with her, when it was over. She seemed
to expect it, and it was clear she loved him.
He'd imagined that in time he'd grow to love her as well, and the part
of him that had been deprived of childhood fairy tales had hoped for true love
and happily-ever-after. So he stayed,
and protected her, and sometimes shared a bed with her. If he was discontent, it was only because he
couldn't force the emotions he was trying so desperately to feel--until now.
Until now, when
he was clutching a crumpled-up piece of notebook paper in his fingers like it
was a treasured heirloom, every short while unfolding it to read it again
through the smudges and drops of rain that had smeared the writing.
The message,
itself, was so simple. I'm sorry.
I need you. Five words, and it
was as if the message had breathed new life into him. He could love so hard it hurt.
There was no longer any doubt that he was capable of feeling what he had attempted so long to invoke. He'd felt it all along--he'd only been
quelling it, keeping it locked within his heart in a subconscious attempt to
deny it.
Oh, if only....
"Heero." He
wasn't sure how long Relena had been standing there, in the doorway,
watching him. Her face was pensive, her
blue eyes sad. The fact that he hadn't
noticed her was only another sign of the turmoil in his heart. "Talk to me."
He didn't. He couldn't. He held out his hand, instead, offering her the crumpled note
with all its poignant meaning.
Questions in her eyes, she reached for it, unfolded it carefully, nodded
slowly as she read.
"Then you
should go to him, Heero," she said.
Hope rose in
his chest as he finally met her eyes.
They were sad, yes, but not as
young as he remembered. He had
underestimated her once again, it seemed.
"Relena...are you sure?"
She smiled
gently, re-folding the note and pressing it into his hand. "I'm not blind, Heero. I've watched you. You've tried, and I love you even more for it--but none of us can
change a heart once it's decided. You
need him too. Or do you really think so
little of me, that I would try to make you stay, when you belong somewhere
else?"
Somewhere
else. With someone else. The part
she didn't say.
"I'm
sorry," said Heero softly.
"For everything."
Relena shook
her head, resting her hand on his shoulder for a moment. Even among the year they'd been together,
that one gesture was full of more intimacy than any other. "Don't be. Just go, Heero."
He looked at
her, nervous, searching for words for what frightened him so. And as she always did, she understood. "You're always welcome here,
Heero. Both of you. In fact, if you don't come back to see me, I'll be hurt."
More than she
was already? Heero wondered, but he
didn't spoil the moment by saying it.
Sometimes silence was not to be fought.
He stood, embracing her hard, resting for a moment as he buried his face
in her shoulder and breathed in the scent of her hair. He'd wanted to love her as a woman. She deserved everything he could--and
couldn't--give her. And she was proving
that again, by loving him as a
friend.
"Act on
your emotions, Heero," she whispered to him gently before she let him go.
"Thank
you," he said, turning to leave.
He reached for her hand, suddenly, and pressed the damp, torn note into
her palm. He left, then, hurriedly. Afraid to turn and look back.
She watched him from the window--a single bag
slung over his shoulder, venturing out into the rain to meet the one he did love. And every few seconds her eyes returned to the smeared words
scrawled onto the scrap of torn notebook paper in her hand.
I'm sorry. I need you.
~Owari~