Disclaimers: I do not own Gundam Wing nor any of it’s characters. I don’t own Fushigi Yugi or any of the characters. They all belong to their rightful owners. This fanfic is for entertainment purposes only, no money being made.

Warnings: Crossover, Yaoi?, het, Citrus *later chapters*, Angst, Romance, Fluff?, Sap, Language, Abuse, Angst, Action, Waff?, jealousy

Pairings: implied ?+?, implied 1+2, ?+?, ?X?, 3+4, 3X4, 5+S, ?X?, future ?X2?, future 1X2X1?


Author: dhuron

‘Breaking the Bonds’ Part 2

“Fine, good night” Duo said before slamming the door in Heero’s face. “Bastard” he muttered under his breath. The Deathscythe pilot flung himself on his bed, burying his head in the soft pillow. //Why do I even care. he’s just a fucking bastard//

Duo punched his pillow in aggravation. He was only goofing around with the other pilot. In one fluid motion he rose from the bed, Duo walked over to his desk and opened the top drawer and pulled out a black velvet bag. His hands began to shake as he slowly opened the highly treasured bag., once it was open he pulled out it’s contents. A solid black pocket knife.

“Solo..” he whispered sadly, grief and sadness falling over him once again. The object gleamed from the light, it’s polished surface was impeccable. Duo had only two material things that held any sentimental value. First there was the pocket knife that belong to Solo, his childhood best-friend. The second was the cross from Father Maxwell. His other hand came up and closed around the cool pendant and his eyes slowly closed against the tears. “I wish you all were still here. I miss you so much.” He fell into the wooden chair, and the first tear fell. //Why wasn’t I taken with you? Why was I left behind.// His hands clasped his treasures tightly, trying not to choke on the pain of his past.


Heero was seated at the small desk, typing on his laptop. He dove into work to forget about events that transpired earlier. In truth, the Japanese boy was confused with everything. He was not prepared to deal with anyone, handle emotions, or being sociable. He looked at the screen of his computer, hoping to block out the world as he would always do, but all he could see were a twin pair of violet eyes. The usual joy was gone, replaced with deep hurt. Heero knew he was responsible for those haunting violets eyes. “What am I suppose to do?”

He pushed away from the laptop and walked over to his duffel bag. It had been a long time since he looked at it, but Heero needed to see the dried flower. Carefully he pulled out a very small container, after pulling off the lid his eyes fell upon one of the few links to his past. He sat on his bed, fingers brushing against the almost-perfect petals. The flower was a symbol, it proved that he was human and still had the ability to love. All the needed was someone to break him of his bonds.


Genro walked down the hall to his room, he wondered how his room-mate was going to be. //Just let us get along...// He prayed, having heard of ‘the room mate from hell’. That was one main reason why he wanted to room with Ryuuen, or by himself. He looked over towards his best friend, wishing he had the single. “Lucky bastard..”

“What was that?”

“Nothing..” he grinned.

“I’ll bet.” Ryuuen paused for a moment, “want me to go in there with you? Meet the roomie too?”

“Would you? And if he is a complete psycho, you could beat some sense into him?”

Ryuuen’s rose-colored eyes twinkled with laughter, “Anything for you Gen...” They walked towards the door, both having a strange feeling. Ryuuen, having less baggage, knocked on the door and waited for an answer.

The door slowly opened and they were greeted by Duo, smiling big and true. “Hi! come on in.” He said with almost too much forced cheer. “I’m Duo.”

“Hi, I’m Ryuuen and this is your roommate, Genro.” The taller boy said while walking into the room, his friend trailing behind him.

“Nice to meet you.” Duo said while extending his hand. The braided pilot looked at the two teenagers, it was obvious they had been long time friends, and if he was reading carefully he could tell Genro wanted more. //Hmm...Why does that remind me of someone...// he thought sarcastically.

“I took this bed, I hope that’s ok with you.”

“It’s okay, Duo was it?”


“Duo, that’s a lovely pendant.” Ryuuen said, trying to break the ice. He regretted mentioning it after he saw the shadow in Duo’s eyes. Just as quickly it vanished, but for those few seconds, the other braided teenager saw a deep underlying pain.

The American felt the pain come back, but quickly pushed it aside. Now wasn’t a good time to break down again, he had just finished crying. “Thank you.” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as shaken and upset as he felt. Violet eyes met with rose, for some reason he felt comforted by the openness of Ryuuen. //Maybe I’ll actually make friends...//

“Is this all your stuff?” He asked, pushing all other thoughts to the back of his mind. Duo decided he’d brood over them later.

“No, we still have some stuff in the car.” Genro asked, still watching his room-mate. //He reminds me of Ryuuen.// He smiled, it looked like he didn’t end up with the roommate from hell, after all.

“Well come on, I’ll help.” Duo jumped to his feet and ran over to the door and down the hall. The other two followed in the blur’s wake, both wearing smiles. “Genro, he doesn’t seem so bad.”

“No, he doesn’t. It looks like we just found a great friend.”

“Guys! You coming?” the braided pilot yelled.

“Hai Duo, patience!”

They finally made it to the end of the hall, and took Duo to where they had parked. None of them saw Heero watching them. He had heard Duo’s, curious as to what the other pilot was up too, voice in the hall and opened his door. He noticed Duo walking down the stairs with two other boys.

“Who are they..?” a hint of something unfamiliar hung in his voice. He closed his door, and fell onto his bed. He wondered briefly if the war wasn’t going on, if he wasn’t raised the way he was, would he be like those other two boys? Would he be happy, open, and cheerful?

“No, if the war wasn’t happening I wouldn’t have met him.” he said aloud, not even noticing he had thought it, much less vocalized it.