Rating: PG-13 for a bit of language. ^_~
Notes: yeah, shonen-ai, blah blah blah... ^____^
It started with curiosity.
Probably curiosity to see how far I could provoke him without getting myself killed. I wasn't too keen on finding myself on the receiving end of his gun but there was a perverse pleasure in trying to drive him to the edge.
He'd wave the gun around at me, growl his "I will kill you"s and I'd laugh. Hopefully, he never takes offense at me laughing at him, because the day he does is the day my ass is toast.
See, I hate things I can't understand. And I could never understand that guy. I mean, what kind of guy pitches headfirst out of a hospital window some 15 stories up? Or, even worse, sets his own fucking leg? No way, not my type of person. Scared the crap out of me when he did that, too. Swore I'd have nightmares for years about that.
I didn't exactly have nightmares that night. But I did think about him.
I always dream about Father Maxwell and Sister Helen. Without fail. And Solo, too. But that night I dreamt about him, and throwing himself out that window. Except in my dream, Solo came as an angel and caught him in midair.
I never claimed any trace of sanity, now did I?
One thing I'll always remember, though. I always associate him with the moon. Because I met him when I first saw the moon from earth. Both him and the moon seemed... alike, somehow. Stoic, quiet, watching everything, observing everything, taking in everything. Almost calm, in a way.
Except him with a gun is anything but calm, I promise you.
But underneath it all I can see right through him. When Father Maxwell comes to me in my dreams, or when Sister Helen sings to me in my dreams... they both tell me to look out for him. Because he's more lost than I am and he deserves a life just as much as I do.
Asshole stole parts to my suit. Deserves a life, my ass. Deserves a hole in his head is more like it.
But hey. I could never put it upon myself to kill him. I know Father and Sister are right, I can see it every time I look in his eyes. There's something frighteningly lost in his ice eyes, and I'm almost scared by it. Until I remember I've been through hell itself and walked out alive.
Damned if I want to help this kid, though. He looks like he'd snap my neck if I ever offered him warmer clothing, much less help of any sort.
I used to pray to whatever God there was to kill me, because I wanted out of this hell life. But I guess God either doesn't exist or he's a sadistic bastard 'cause here I am, alive. Been threatened to be killed a lot of times. Especially from this kid. I'm never lucky enough to die.
Except then, I found myself with an obligation from Father Maxwell to look after him. And I always listened to Father Maxwell. Didn't always obey, but I figured I would, if only to make up for the times I disobeyed.
Besides. The guy looked like he needed a little looking after.
He's a weird kid. Doesn't talk much, never smiles, finds himself expendable. Me, I hate life, but I'm a bit addicted to breathing, y'know? I'd rather not give up on that for a while. And I'll be damned if I'm taking down by some half-intelligent flunkies who fight for a reason they don't understand.
And he has this penchant for waving a gun around. Makes him feel more secure, I suppose. Makes me feel like I'm living in a landmine: he wakes up waving it at my face. Scared the crap out of me the first time he did that.
But we all have our idiosyncrasies, I suppose. I mean, he was pretty forgiving about the time he woke me up only to find a knife at his throat.
There was always something sort of... mysterious about him. Strange. Off-kilter, definitely. Made me want to know what he was hiding under that persistent frown. It was as if he'd had a past, but he'd chosen to erase it completely from his memory banks. Like he'd had a personality, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble and deleted it.
Sometimes I'd watch him fight. He had this detached aura emanating from him that always seemed so black, so unemotional. Always made me wonder if I was fighting with another kid or with some sort of robot or cyborg. He had absolutely no emotion.
That was when the curiosity kicked in. I wanted to see if I could make him show emotion. To anything. Laugh, smile, even yell if it was anything but "I will kill you". Hell, what am I talking about, he didn't even yell that unless it was over a scratchy connection and even then he just spoke forcefully.
So that was how I gave myself Mission: Smile. Yeah, yeah, stupid, I know. But I wanted to see him grin. Hell, if he'd that pretty frowning, think of him laughing.
I said it, didn't I? Yeah, he's a cute kid.
The first few attempts only got the gun in my face again. Finally he decided the best way to get rid of me would be to ignore me. But I'm not that easily ignored. If and when I want, you couldn't drown me out with a 50-piece marching band.
Besides, I really wanted to get through to him.
Father Maxwell told me he's really broken inside. That he doesn't understand many things except fighting and war. I was trying to invoke an emotion he'd buried so deeply he didn't know it existed inside him anymore.
Didn't stop me from trying, though. I'd pull all sorts of stupid antics, make a fool out of myself, do anything.
Somewhere in the middle of the teasing, I found something out. I had a thing for the sucker. Great.
Yeah know, it's kind of hard to make someone smile when just their entering the room makes you think dirty thoughts and you have to find the nearest bathroom. It was weird, because I'd figured myself master of emotions, then I find something I can't understand. And then I figured out how he was feeling.
Wanna know how I made him smile?
By him waking me up in the dead of night, me being completely disoriented from severe lack of sleep, waving around my knife, saying whatever came to mind. Among those random phrases was, "And I fucking love you, Yuy."
Hey, I made him smile.
Made him do a lot more, too.
Curiosity is a nice thing.