Author/Alias: Nianeika (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Title: The Death...of Death
Category/Warnings: Duo's POV, yaoi, angst death
Pairings: 2+1, 3+4/4+3
The Death of Death.
I looked up at the gray sky, the raindrops falling into my eyes, mingling with the hot tears of my soul. The weather was wrong for today. The day when the world would finally be rid of the curse known as Shinigami. It should be sunny, nature should be happy that I was about to die.
Or perhaps there's a different reason the sky is mourning.
Maybe it's crying too.
Crying for all those lives taken by my hand and those taken just because they happened to get tangled in the dark web that is my life. So many lives. So many innocent people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I wept for them.
For the countless people I had murdered over the years.
The people with no names, who suddenly, in the presence of the Bringer of Death, realized they didn't want to be meddled in this war.
The people who had screamed for mercy while I ran my scythe through them.
And those who I'd shot before they even realized I was there.
I'd lost count how many there were, I think that's the worst part of it. There were so many that I didn't know the exact number.
And I wept for the family I'd had once.
Before they too were gone.
All my fault...
Father Maxwell, who had been like a father to me, my only father. He had perished by the very war I had joined later in life. I didn't want to think about how he'd feel now. Knowing that the young boy in his care he had been so fond of that he had grown up to be a killer.
And Sister Helen, the only mother I'd ever known. I closed my eyes, the tears still pouring down my face, hidden by the rain. And I imagined the look in her eyes if she knew what I had become.
And Solo. The brother I'd failed to save. Why had God spared me from that horrible disease, and taken Solo? I had been so young then, and still I killed.
Killed Solo, Father Maxwell, Sister Helen.
The only family I'd ever known.
Who knows where my blood family were. Probably dead. Or maybe I didn't have parents. Maybe I was put on earth by Death itself. Put here to do its bidding. I've felt it before. So many times I've wanted to spare people, but something took over me and I killed them anyway.
Or maybe I wasn't sent by Death. maybe I am Death, and I just won't face up to it. Yeah, it makes sense.
I sat on the ground and fingered the gun in my hands. I didn't want to use it just yet, I would later though. But I did want to think about things first.
Looking around, I felt I had picked the right spot to die. Beautiful green grass, unmarred by human pollution. I was surrounded by trees, tall, majestic trees.
No one could see me, no one would find me in time. Hopefully my body would never be found, and the others would assume I had left, had run away.
And, eventually, I would be absorbed by the ground.
Quatre, Trowa, Wufei and Heero. We all shared a bond closer than family. I hated to leave them, but I knew I had to. Before they too were killed.
Oh they'd figure it out. They were too smart to think I had just run away. They would be hurt, and ask themselves `Why?', and `Could we have done something to help him?'.
But it was pointless.
They couldn't have done anything. I don't think any of them understood what I was going through. They may come close, but no.
I'm not saying they could deal with killing people easily.
No one can do that.
No, Quatre would focus on making it up any way he could, he had a sort of inner innocence that protected him from feeling what I do. He always gave the enemy the option of a way out, asking them to surrender, apologizing.
And Trowa, he wasn't alone in this world like I was. He had Quatre, his own light that shone through the darkness these times had shed across the universe, something to live for.
Wufei, sure he had lost his whole colony, maybe out of all of them he the most understood what I was feeling. But not completely. He had his sense of honor and integrity, all his battles had a purpose. No, not even Wufei could understand how I felt.
Then there was Heero.
To everyone, Heero is an enigma, yet, to some degree, I understand him. And we do have some in common. Like me, Heero has never known his parents. And maybe, also like me, he doesn't have any. Maybe he's a test-tube baby, genetically enhanced for the war. I'm not sure about him.
Maybe I'm doing this more for him than I am for anyone else. I think I love him. And I know that if I stay around him, the curse'll get him too.
And I refuse to let that happen.
Would anyone guess I had committed suicide?
I know I didn't appear to be the sort of person who would do it. But then that's all I am. An appearance. I appear to be a happy-go-lucky, cheerful comedian. When inside I'm nothing but a scared little boy who's touch means Death.
I lifted the gun to my heart. A heart that had been cracked so many times by loss. Cracked beyond repair. And as I prepared for death, I thought of the irony.
One: that I was the one who didn't appear to let sorrow get to him.
Two: I was always the happy one, telling everyone not to get depressed. Always seeing the good in a situation and ignoring the bad. But even I can't keep something like that up forever.
Then I lowered the gun and frowned, could have sworn I'd heard someone call my name. But no, must have been the thunder. Or wind. Or something.
I shook my head, and the doubt disappeared.
Again I raised the gun to the sad remnants of my heart. I took a last look at the earth and thought of the people's lives I had destroyed, by taking their loved ones away from them.
The children that grew up without a father or brother, the women who lived without their husband or son, and again I wept.
For all those poor souls who wept for their families, and I wept for a young boy with violet eyes who longed for a family, but never allowed himself the pleasure of finding one, for fear of killing them too.
I closed my eyes and thought of the ones I called friends. I wanted to die thinking of them.
I would miss them.
The way Wufei called me weakling, the way Quatre was always there if I needed him, Trowa and the way he never hesitated if I needed his help. And of Heero, the way he had accepted my friendship.
They were the people that I called friends.
Somehow, I think they'll know what happened.
We were so close, I think they'll feel me die. I'm glad. I'm glad someone will mourn me.
My eyes still closed, I whispered a verse I hadn't heard in years.
"Yea, though I walk through the shadow of death," my eyes opened. "I shall fear no evil."
I pulled the trigger