“No,” he whispered softly, trying to deny it. “It was a misunderstanding. It’s not....”

/Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal/

Duo felt himself fall to the bed, memories that had been hidden for a year overpowering him with their brilliant clarity. Distantly, he was whimpering as he drowned in the sorrow. So much hit him at once he couldn’t even grasp anything beyond the fear, shame, and loneliness.

How long had he been in that Hell?

Was it years? Or months?

Or was it only days?

Hours?

Seconds that had lasted a millennia each...?

For one full year he had been blissfully unaware of himself. Of what he had been and always would be:

A streetbrat.

A murderer.

Unwanted.

Trash.

For that year, he had been ‘Duo Maxwell,’ but the name had no meaning to him. Just some random letters arranged on a page, forming a specific sound
in the air.

Nothing but letters and ignorance.

... And it had been Heaven.

But now...

Now....

/Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real/

Suddenly a scene flashed through his mind as quick and brilliant as lightning with the same intense anger.

^^~ He was stuck to the ground with no chance of moving. The world fell away around him as he realized he was back in that fucking dream again, caught to the ground, naked to the world. He was in shock, in the middle of a ballroom, people laughing and pointing at him as he lay there, broken.

Relena glanced down at him again, noticing the people as she removed her shawl. She squatted down, very purposefully not looking at his nakedness, as she started to wipe the tears from his shattered violet eyes. Duo and Relena locked silent gazes and he saw nothing but pity and disgust with an attempt at understanding. She laid the shawl over his middle so he was covered. Heero shook his head at her as if she’d just been unnecessarily
kind to some beggar on the street. She stepped back and Duo struggled to keep from crying. Somehow, her pity and kindness hurt more than anything
else. She got Heero but she wasn’t gloating....~^^

Relena.

Heero had Relena.

He never cared about Duo.... Why had he thought he would...? There was nothing to care about. Just a stupid body with a stupider soul that wasn’t just –filled-, it was _permeated_, with a disgusting, loathful taint that twisted and desecrated everything he ever touched.

Anyone he ever cared for....

/ There’s something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing/

“Forgive me,” Duo whispered brokenly, wrapping his arms painfully tight around his middle, bending over his knees until his forehead touched the crinkled sheets of his bed. He laid there, squeezing his eyes shut, trying not to think of the braid that should be resting heavily against his back.

<Damn you, Shinigami... why didn’t you listen to me...?>

^^~ In the distance, the man in black was very smugly patting Duo’s body. Duo’s other self, lost in a sea of hollow voices that spoke of lives ended too soon by the wayward glance of a glowing scythe, felt all hope shatter from the inside out.

Closing his eyes, he did the only thing he could think of. <Shinigami,> he prayed with tired conviction, <You are my One and True God. You are the only thing consistent, the only thing I can trust in this world and life. Please find me worthy enough for your Ultimate Touch. Please take me before I am taken, Shinigami.> He felt himself descend to death....

Until.... ~

A flash, a startled Heero, staring into his eyes as if trying to understand some hidden meaning. Duo, so happy to see Heero he didn’t even know what he said or did, only that he tried to show him... tried to show him how much he....

His body felt so weak. So small. So... wasted and old. Why was it hard to breathe? To see? To even think? Where was he? Had he died? Had Shinigami finally taken his faithful soul to the sweet surrender of Final Death...?

But then—^^

/This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling/

“Stop it, damnit!” Duo hissed, squeezing his eyes shut harder. “Why won’t you leave me alone? I DON’T CARE!”

^^ Pain.

Never-ending, all-consuming agony that wrenched through his very soul.

Why wouldn’t it stop?

What had he done to deserve all this??

<You were born, Duo> he heard a part of him whisper maliciously, <some Children are just born to suffer. The fallen demons of humanity. Give it up and accept your Fate already....>

<No!> he thought back desperately, his eyes fixed on Heero’s as he silently screamed, pleading for a second chance, for SOMETHING to go right for
once...!

<Yes,> he replied to himself, <and all your bullshit masks don’t mean a god-damned thing when faced with reality: You’re a fucking waste of breath. You murder with glee and kill with ease. Your hands are filled with thick, running blood. You will never be pure and it’s only through existing as you do can you ever repay what you’ve taken.>

<A life for a life,> he thought suddenly, mournfully, just as he felt fire burn his skin, extending deep within his body and ripping at his very existence....^^

/I can’t seem
To find myself again/

^^ He awoke to white. Light that was so bright it actually turned dull.

He could feel the air currents against his skin and for one panicked moment he thought he must surely be falling in an endless field of frozen ash.

He knew something was wrong... probably –very- wrong, because he didn’t think he worried easily.

And that was when it occurred to him.

He didn’t know who he was.

He sat up quickly, eyes wide and wild, searching for answers as the world suddenly seemed to press in suffocatingly, erasing his security with a vengeance.

He panicked.

He should know who he was, shouldn’t he? That was normal, wasn’t it?

Without knowing who he was... or where he was... or even WHAT he was.... He felt so... So....

Hollow.

<Who am I?> he thought fearfully.^^

/My walls are closing in/

^^ A noise startled him from his fear, causing him to spin toward the sound with the instincts of a natural-born killer. When he twirled, he couldn’t help feeling like there wasn’t enough counter-weight around his head area, and he found himself tripping off the bed.

The air whooshing by his hyper-sensitive skin was like running carbon ice knives over his arms and face, a cold so complete it was burning. A feeling so strong it was drowning him.

The ground shot into his view, ready to engulf him in a trembling impact, but before he fell completely, rough and strong hands caught him.

The feeling of skin against his own was so dramatized he almost cried out right then, but some stubborn part of himself he didn’t understand refused to show weakness in any form. Instead, his large cobalt eyes turned to survey his surroundings finally.

He was in a white room that had only a soft bed in the center and a full-length mirror to the side, tipped listlessly against a pristine wall. His gaze moved from the room to the inhabitants, and he found himself staring at two males. One of them was leaning against the far wall, shaggy brown hair sheltering his expression save the small smile adorning his mouth. He looked to be in his early 20’s if not late teens.

The other person was currently holding him up with strong but gentle hands, ignoring the shivering of the boy at the sensation on his skin. The man’s skin color was dark, something like dark chocolate, and his eyes were as black as a lazy summer night with as much shine as the moon. He was smiling faintly at the boy, supporting him physically then as he would support him all other ways in the next year. He was probably in his late 30’s or early 40’s.

“Hello, Duo,” the dark man said in a smooth, soothing voice that made all the boy’s worries vanish in a pulse of warmth and security. “I see you’re awake.” He smiled but this time brilliant stars of teeth shone against his night-sky face.

The boy licked his lips, feeling every bump on his tongue run over his sensitive lips. He shuddered from within to without, causing some hair to brush against his features, making him shiver even more.

The sensation of merely the air against him was enough to make him unnerved, but anything beyond that caused a shudder every time.

The boy looked questioningly at both men, wondering what was happening, who he was, why he was there, or maybe most importantly, why he didn’t remember anything.

“I am Bakari,” the dark man said in that calming voice with something of an accent, “And that behind me is Serafim. He is the one who brought you here
at my request.”

The boy blinked slowly. “Who... who am....?”

“Duo Maxwell,” Bakari supplied as he helped the confused boy up to a sitting position on the edge of his bed. “A,” the slightest of hesitations, “training Nightwalker.”

Duo’s eyes strayed from Bakari to Serafim and back to Bakari. He blinked again then suddenly looked away, wanting to lose himself in the endless
white of the room.

Instead, he found himself staring in the mirror. Why did he feel like that wasn’t him looking back....?^^

/[Without a sense of confidence, I’m convinced that
there’s just too much pressure to take]/

^^ Days later, Serafim was walking Duo back to the room after his first practice in what Duo thought of as ‘The DreamHaze Room’, since every time he walked in, he felt lost in a sea of hazy, foggy, half-conceived dreams that pulled at him from all directions.

The tall, shaggy-haired man, who Duo later found out was Russian, glanced over at Duo as they strode. “How do you feel so far?” he asked in his thick accent.

“Fine,” Duo lied, wondering why he felt like shit doing so.

“Understanding everything?” Serafim inquired, leading Duo down the stairwell.

Duo nodded quietly. He never really felt like talking unless he had to. A lot of times he was afraid if he spoke, he’d say something really stupid. Something everyone should know, but since he couldn’t remember anything before opening his eyes to white, he didn’t.

And if there was one thing Duo knew for sure about himself, it was that he wasn’t an idiot. So he didn’t want to be treated that way.

Serafim must have seen the look on Duo’s face because he shrugged, grabbing Duo by the upper arm in what was probably normally a light grip but, to Duo,
was gratingly harsh. He gasped and shuddered at the same time as the Russian was saying, “You’ll get used to it.”

When Duo reacted to the touch, Serafim looked surprised, emotions running through his eyes that Duo just couldn’t understand at the time. He let go
immediately, but did it in a manner that implied he thought Duo was filthy.

Serafim probably didn’t mean it that way, but Duo took it so and hung his head in shame.

No one else had the sensitive skin. So, why did he?

“You’ll get used to all of this,” Serafim murmured as Duo walked into his room. He turned around just in time to see the Russian Nightwalker shut the
door behind himself. Duo slumped to the bed, still disturbed every time he felt a rush of air pass over his nerves.

“Will I?” he asked himself quietly, avoiding looking in the mirror. ^^

/I’ve felt this way before
So insecure/

^^ It was just before Duo left to see Heero, ecstatic at the prospect of seeing his friend again, nearly jumping out of his skin in joy, when Serafim had stopped him on his way out of his room.

“Duo,” he said with unusual gravity, even for someone as serious as he usually was, “We need to talk.”

Duo had been confused but nodded readily. The sooner he talked the sooner he could see Heero! _HEERO!_ Who had been looking for him! Duo felt all
the anger of being denied the information of who he was for one whole year fade when he thought of seeing those Prussian eyes again. He was afraid... of COURSE he was afraid... but he wanted to see him. To convince himself that this past he just remembered was real... that this wasn’t all a dream....

Serafim hesitated the briefest of moments before looking Duo straight in the eyes and saying reluctantly, “Heero... loves Relena.” ^^

/Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal/

^^ Duo felt his heart shatter at the statement. “Relena...?” he hollowly echoed. <Of course Relena, you fucking idiot! Of COURSE he went to her! Just because they thought you died didn’t mean anyone would give a shit!>

Serafim nodded, looking around nervously. “Look, Duo, I wasn’t supposed to tell you this. It was another one of those ‘confidential’ things....”

Yeah. Confidential. Duo knew the word. ‘Confidential’ kept his past a secret to him until it nearly flew by him, and just now, ‘confidential’ let all the hope he’d harbored in his heart for those brief, beautiful moments, freeze, crack, and shatter. He barely felt himself nod. His whole body felt numb, which was quite an accomplishment since even after a year of living with hyper-sensitive skin he hadn’t been able to completely block the effect yet.

Serafim stepped into Duo’s room and shut the door behind him as he leaned against it. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, sounding vaguely concerned. Everything was vague with Serafim... almost as if he was slightly removed from his own body sometimes and had to improvise with what he should be feeling. Duo had gotten used to it by the first week.

He immediately shook his head, plastering on his jester’s smile. “No prob, Seffy. Thanks for the tip!”

Serafim replied stiffly, “Sima, if you MUST shorten my name. You know that...” he paused and considered Duo before adding, “’O.”

Duo blinked, but then laughed. “Hey, at least MY name is short to say and spell... yours is longer. So making ‘Duo’ ‘O’ vs. ‘Serafim’ ‘Seffy’ is WAYYY more lazy...!”

Serafim smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was watching Duo closely, as he always seemed to be doing, staring intently as if trying to read the answer to the universe within Duo’s mind.^^

/Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real/

Duo rolled onto his side, eyes open but staring at memories instead of his almost painfully white room. He had never changed the color, even as he started turning a little more into the Duo he knew himself to be, even after he had remembered his past.

In Japan, ‘white’ was the color of death.

Shiroi meant white.

Shi meant death.

He felt like it was appropriate.

^^ “Your friend... the Dreamer... she’ll be with Heero.” Serafim was watching him even closer if possible, but Duo was numb and unresponsive as he listened. “They’re living together while Relena works on complete world peace. Heero has been catching romantic moments on and off with Relena when he gets the chance, but those nights have been few and far between lately, what with all the duties she’s taken on.”

“I see,” Duo distantly heard himself saying.

<You don’t want love anyway, Maxwell. You’d just corrupt it. You know that.>

Duo slid his eyes closed heavily, feeling the world press into him, smothering him, drowning him.

“The... radio will probably be on... or some sort of medium for the outside world to get in. He needs to keep updated on the news, because that’s his easiest way of knowing when they can be together.” Serafim paused, looking as though, if only he were a slightly different person, he’d be chewing his lip right then.

Duo had opened his eyes again unknowingly, now realizing he was staring at the wall, unseeing. He was only listening and feeling emptier and emptier the longer the talk went on. “We... suspect Heero and your friend may... well....” Serafim trailed off uncertainly, as if he was afraid to continue the sentence.

Duo felt the shutter fall on his expression; the Mask fully in place. He grinned at Serafim and said cheerfully, “Well then... thanks for the info! I guess congratulations are in order for Yuy....”

He spoke loudly so Serafim would miss the sound of his heart shattered on the floor, breaking into a million cold, sharp pieces that ripped through
his insides.

His one hope.

His only hope.

Gone.^^

/Discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting (distracting) reacting/

“Duo?”

Duo sat up quickly, brushing away the wetness around his eyes that he hadn’t realized was there. He automatically grinned, cheerfully looking toward the doorway.

Serafim hesitantly entered the room. “How...?”

Since day 1 Serafim had been there for Duo. In a lot of ways, the Russian man reminded him of an older, subdued Solo or a concerned Heero. The thought only made Duo’s heart clench even more when he realized, all along, it had been that aspect that led him to....

Duo slid his eyes closed in a brief flash of shame. The instant he saw the expression, the Russian had crossed the room, gathering Duo in his arms. The feel of skin against skin was too intimate, too sensual, too –good-. Duo desperately tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t.

He cried.

All those times he had felt –off- and he had turned to Serafim for guidance... for comfort.... It was because of others that Serafim shadowed so closely.

He was using him.

Duo was fucking using Serafim.

Duo knew he should be explaining to Serafim, telling him that he should leave him alone, that he was a waste, but all he could do was cry even harder and clutch at the one comfort he had left in this world. The one constant who at least pretended to care and was powerful enough to survive his curse.

Maybe even more powerful than Hee—

Duo viciously shut that thought out of his mind.

No need to pine over lost love... if he could even CALL it love.

Heero never actually showed interest in Duo. It had all been Duo’s stupid mind reworking situations to stick implications in so he could be selfish and feel loved.

“Fuck me!” Duo groaned, meaning it in the sense of “I’m such a fucking idiot” and forgetting that Serafim would take that literally.

Before Duo could think, the Russian had captured his mouth as he had so many times during that year, his tongue dancing over Duo’s lips in a maddening dance that left Duo breathless every time. Hyper sensitive skin made for very pleasurable nights sometimes....

/Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
(my own reflection)/

A few hours later, Duo was alone.

Again.

Serafim had left shortly after they were finished, and frankly, Duo was glad.

It was always awkward waking up next to Serafim in bed because the Russian was always watching him so intently. And, though Duo would never admit the
weakness, the lovemaking was especially hard on him. For some reason, he always felt especially drained by the end, with barely enough energy to flip over and pull the blanket up.

He figured it was because of the hyper sensitivity and he was almost positive that was the reason.

Since he felt everything so much clearer, the session was that much more intense, taking that much more out of him.

Duo winced hugely. ‘Session’? Had he just thought ‘session’?!

Duo slowly pulled himself out of bed, ignoring the aches and how exhausted he was. His eyes watching his steps closely as he wandered across the room,
he slowly looked up into the mirror he knew would be there.

A sickly-looking teenager stared back at him, pale and thin in his nudity. His skin was pale moonlight, his hair a mixture of sunset and midnight. His eyes were twilight and his mouth was the color of the rich dawn sky.

Night.

He looked like a strange embodiment of night, which he frankly had never noticed before.

But beyond that, Duo saw what truly stood there, staring back with glittering amethyst eyes.

Trash.

A cheap murdering whore.

A boy who had to imagine all the loves he ever had, either in his dreams or by thinking of another in reality.

And as Duo stared at his reflection, he was disturbed to realize it still didn’t feel –right-. Like ... he was an imposter....

/It’s haunting (haunting) how I can’t seem
To find myself again/

Duo dropped his head into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to keep the barrier up on his sensitivity so he wouldn’t feel the air against his bare skin or the feel of his palms on his eyelids. He tried to pull himself together, but when he opened his eyes again, he found himself unable to think as a disturbing vision crossed his mind.

Staring pensively out through the mirror, Duo could imagine himself now, with the spiked hair, and himself from before, with a thigh-length braid that had a life of its own. Both reflections could grin but neither was happy.

But Duo honestly didn’t feel like either.

He wasn’t Pilot 02 anymore, but, now that he had his memories back, he no longer felt like a Nightwalker.

He felt stuck between the two in an eternal battle.

Trapped.

/My walls are closing in/

He didn’t even make a normal Nightwalker anyway! <I can’t do ANYTHING right!> he thought angrily, watching his sorrowful expression twist into
disgust.

He still remembered the first time he realized how much of a freak he really was....

^^ Bakari was teaching Duo, as he had been since Duo started training. The Swahili man had always been kind to Duo, ready to answer any and all questions. Yet somehow he had kept their relationship purely master-student, never letting it progress to friends or even a father-son or brother-brother relationship. Despite that, or maybe exactly for that reason, Duo trusted the African man with his life and more, because Bakari would never lie to him. Duo knew that deep down inside.

The task was supposed to be simple. Duo was to make himself disappear to Bakari’s mind, and it was supposed to be in a manner that was smooth and
faded.

Duo had THOUGHT he was doing everything right, but instead of fading from sight, he ended up twisting the shadows in a vortex that surrounded him.
The second the ‘arms’ of the twister spinning upwards connected around his form, he completely vanished from view.

Bakari stared, blinking once, twice, then three times before he finally said quietly, “Alright, Duo. That’s enough for the night.”

Duo had forced himself to go visible again, the darkness shimmering like a heat wave then suddenly shattering and flying off in millions of glistening fragments. Bakari was watching Duo with an unreadable expression, but Duo was sure it was shame.

The Mind’s Eye Invisibility was supposed to be the easiest thing to learn for all Nightwalkers. Like remembering your ABCs started with, well, “A, B, C.”

But what did Duo do?

He fucked up ShadowPlay 101.

Bakari NEVER got that expression other than when it dealt with someone being retarded.

And that only ever happened with Duo.^^

/[Without a sense of confidence, I’m convinced that
there’s just too much pressure to take]
I’ve felt this way before
So insecure/

Duo felt himself slide to the ground, his arms loosely wrapped around his bare torso.

He felt so worn.

That fucking dreamland had aged him so much in mind, then that year with a relationship with someone who he knew he could spend his life with but neither would be totally content, along with fucking up every god damned thing he tried to do as a Nightwalker, and now, well hallefuckinglujah, there’s Relena and Heero or Heero and Cressida with their damn happy relationships shoving it in his face. He felt like plastering a huge neon sign on his forehead that flashed “Use me! I’m expendable! Forget about me the second I’m gone!”

Duo sighed. <No, stop blaming others, Duo. This is your fault and you know it. You let yourself get taken in the first place. Then you used others like Heero for your own sick pleasures. Then you get pissy when you get what’s coming to you. And in the end, you try to blame others for having a happy life.>

Duo leaned forward until his forehead was pressed against the cool (ice, to him) surface of the mirror.

/Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing... confusing what is real..../

“Why can’t I forget anything?” Duo whispered to his reflection, his eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to see himself anymore. “Not Solo or Maxwell Church... not any of my fights or that fucking dream shit... _especially_ not that... and now... not what I’ve been doing for the last year.”

He laid there, unable or unwilling to move, for quite a long time. The air was cold against his bare skin, turning his touch to an even colder ice than normal.

That was another freakish thing about him, Duo had found out when he asked Bakari why he was always so cold even though he felt he should be fine. “I
am not positive,” he’d replied, and Duo felt like somewhere behind that Bakari was wondering what kind of freak he’d let into his apprenticeship.

But in the end, it didn’t matter.

Because this was all like being in the DreamHaze Room.

All his memories, all his thoughts and feelings and impulses....

Were they real?

Was he still dreaming?

Or did he ever exist in the first place?

It was so impossible to tell anymore....

/(There’s something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming)
Confusing what is real
(This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling)/

Duo felt like a black hole had started when he was born, centered on his heart, sucking out his warmth. The older he grew, the more shit he pulled and more people he destroyed, the larger the hole became. Every mistake added to the growth. Every hurt made it stronger.

And now, after just losing Heero, the god damned bastard who had stolen his heart when he hadn’t been looking then threw it in his face like it meant
nothing... Heero was just the last little push.

Duo sat up straighter, his eyes wide as the thought finally occurred to him.

<No wonder I always feel like ice... like I suck the warmth and life from everyone around me....> Duo let his breath out in a long, slow sweep that turned the mirror’s surface moist with his breath.

“_I_ am a black hole,” he whispered.

/Confusing what is real/

To be continued ^_^