(GW/RK Crossover)


I don’t own the beautiful bishounen here! Don’t sue me! Any comments, however, are appreciated! This is alternate timeline, you realize, for both series. It’s supposed to happen after the battle with Shishio but it doesn’t follow the anime after that. And there are warnings of OOCness! Not to mention, a lame attempt at light-hearted humor to balance the angst fics I’ve buried you guys under. Read at your own risk! ^_^
NOTE: Grading system is based on the Canadian one, using percentages.

FIRST DRAFT: Sunday, November 28, 1999
LAST REVISED: Thursday, December 02, 1999



Kaoru Kamiya’s house was large and typical of the houses at the time. There was a huge wall surrounding it, with a wooden template encarved with the dojo’s name. Mostly made of burnished wood and paper, with sloping shingled roofs, there was a feeling of welcome that suffused the building.

“Come in, come in!” the dark-haired girl immediately started for the kitchen, carrying a tub of tofu and several vegetables.

“Oh boy, we’re in big trouble,” warned Yahiko, sitting down on the wooden floor. “Kaoru can’t cook to save her life.” A metal pot flew from the kitchen to hit Yahiko’s head dead-on. Duo chuckled, while Heero smirked.

“Well, Heero’s a good cook, ne Hee-chan?” teased Duo. Hee-chan growled at him. “Omae o korosu!”

“Sure, sure!” Duo pushed his lover towards the kitchen. “Now go help the ojousan and don’t burn anything!” Heero glared but followed his instructions. Sighing, Duo plopped down onto the floor.

Yahiko merely watched them. There was something about the two boys, something strange that the other boy could sense but could not define. “He’s very quiet, isn’t he?” Yahiko asked.

The boy, Duo, turned to him and smiled. “Heero, yes. A rock talks more than he does!” Said rock flew from the kitchen to bounce off of Duo’s head. “Hidoi!” exclaimed the injured American, rubbing the sore spot.

Suddenly, in a lightning fast movement, Duo’s hand darted forward and grabbed the wooden sword at Yahiko’s side. “What’s this?”

The spiky-haired youth merely blinked in astonishment. “Tha-that’s my shinai!”

“Shinai?” The word felt strange on Duo’s tongue. “Shinai? What is it?”

“I guess you Americans aren’t taught budo,” Yahiko answered, grabbing his weapon back. “It’s a wooden practice sword. I’m going to be a great samurai when I grow up!”

Duo frowned, remembering the lectures from the Japanese History class he and Heero attended. “But samurais were banned in the Meiji era, weren’t they?” Heero had told his companion about what had happened while he was still unconscious during their walk to the dojo.

“Well, katanas are banned. But we are still taught budo. I’m a student of the Kamiya-Kasshin-Ryo!” stated the boy proudly.


“It’s a sword-fighting technique created to give one the power to protect their loved ones,” Kaoru said, appearing from the doorway of the kitchen. “That’s my father’s technique and he passed it onto me. Would you like to learn it?”

“Nah, I know more than enough ways to k---“

A harsh “Duo!” came from the kitchen. The American flushed. “Oops, nan demo nai!” he caroled. Yahiko and Kaoru looked at each other.

A distinctly-unpleasant smell captured their attention. Kaoru gasped and hurried back to the kitchen. “Well, there goes our dinner!” Yahiko complained.


Two figures cuddled quietly in the courtyard. Duo snuggled closer in Heero’s arms. It had taken the stoic Japanese several months after they had become lovers to become demonstrative, even in private, but Duo’s efforts were not in vain.

“What do you think of them, koi?” asked Duo quietly.

Heero merely buried his face in the crook of Duo’s neck and inhaled the familiar, spicy scent. “They are very nice people. There’s strength in them.”

“That’s what I think, too. Heero, what do you think the others are doing now?”

“Trowa and Quatre were laying low in one of the mining colonies that the Winner Empire owned. Wufei followed them in Shen-long.”

“Do you think we can get back?”

The slender, hard arms tightened. “I hope so, Duo. I hope so.”

The two boys kissed gently. When their mouths parted, Duo breathed, “I don’t care if we ever can get back, Heero. As long as you don’t leave me.”



[Quatre’s house, AC 195]

“Trowa, do you think Heero and Duo are okay in that colony? That’s one of the most distant colonies in the Federation.”

“Quatre, you worry too much. They’re Gundam Pilots.”

:And that says it all,: thought Quatre.

“Worry about Wufei,” Trowa said suddenly. They both looked beyond the balcony window to the solemn figure standing in the gardens.

“Poor Wufei. I didn’t know he loved Treize so much.”

“I don’t think he did either.”