Disclaimer: GW belongs to its respective owners. No sue, me no money.
Author's Note: The ficcy is for my close friends. Kenny, Jannel, Cecilia, Manang, JC, Bryan, Ferlin, Tristan, Vic, Atan and Daryl. Also to Vivit. Thank you sooooooooo much for understanding me. ^_^ Ack! Deah, too, for encouraging me to finish my stories... Give me slack please. My mind was kinda blank when I wrote this. Oh! C&C's and Flames are welcome. On with the ficcy!!
Choices
It was almost 5:00 in the afternoon. The graveyard and its eerie silence made the hair at the back of the neck of the lone visitor stand.
He was walking slowly looking for the grave of his friends. His long, chestnut-colored hair, tied back in a ponytail was swinging back and forth while he walked; its tip right above his butt. His violet eyes were down-cast and blank as he walked. But if you look closely at his eyes, it was obvious that he had seen the violence of the world and maybe, just maybe, he saw his friends die. He might have killed people himself. He had a well built body. His body-fit clothes showed off firm and taut muscles; he must have done a lot of manual labor and worked out, too.
Despite his looks, it didn't seem awkward that he was bringing four different bouquets, bundled together, making it look like he was carrying one big bunch. In fact, he looked like a girl with troubled eyes in men's clothing. But, there is no doubt that he is male.
He suddenly stopped. A breeze passed him, whipping his hair from side to side. He sat down on the grass, oblivious of the stain that it might leave on his clothes. In front of him were four graves. The inscription on the tombstone at the far-left said:
"In memory of a boy rich like the Arabian deserts.
With golden hair like the golden desert sands.
The little angel with a broken halo.
The Desert Rose"
The dates on the tombstone told its onlooker that the boy died when he was 16.
To its right was another grave. It belonged to someone who died at the age of seventeen. It was quite amusing and shocking that this boy and the boy with golden hair died at the same day. This boy's tombstone also had an inscription.
"The boy with a happy face but with a sad heart.
Silence is his best friend.
A complete enigma.
Tall yet humble, silent yet deadly.
The Silencer."
Beside "the silencer's" grave was another boy's grave. His name gives the impression of being Asian, Chinese perhaps, or so the name suggests. Just like the previous boy, he died at 16 , 2 months after the first two boys died.
"The warrior destined to be Japanese but born Chinese.
The stabilizer who strictly follows the Chinese Bushido.
The dragon who fights for honor and justice.
'Til his death, he tries to find the balance between good and evil.
Justice is the last word he said.
The Dragon Warrior."
"Mono-toned and emotionless.
Always aims for perfection, no matter what the cost.
Life is nothing, to end it is something.
To die by his own hands rather than be captured and betray his vows.
Failure is an utmost shame. To love is a disgrace.
The Perfect Soldier."
Those were the inscriptions on the last grave.
Tears welled in the boy's eyes as memories starts to flood him. He closed his eyes really hard, trying to prevent the tears from falling. More memories came and the boy started to cry.
"You died trying to save me. All of you in exchange of my life. Here I am, bitter, angry and depressed. I would have preferred that I died with you. You left me here all alone! What happened to our pact. You said that all five of us will always be together. But you broke it. You had to save me, for what? To save the colonies?! I heard your last words, your goodbyes yet it does not bring you back. And now that the colonies are safe, the war over, life doesn't make sense without my friends. Damn it! It isn't worth losing the four of you. Now I have added up all my thought and said it. That was my goodbye."
The boy pulled out a gun and aimed it at his head.
"Now, we will be together," he whispered.
A shot rang out and time stood still. In an agonizing slow motion, the boy's body fell to its side. As his body hit the ground, blood and parts of his brain mixed with the green grass.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A month later.
A Chinese woman[1] walked towards her allies graves. There used to be four but a month ago, the last gundam pilot committed suicide. His grave lay beside Heero Yuy's.
The woman traced the name on the new tombstone: Duo Maxwell.
"Scythe in hand, he roams the world,
Ending the lives of the wretched and enemies of peace.
Loud mouthed and opinionated.
Stoism is one of his major traits.
The God of Death."
Wiping her eyes, the woman stood up and started to leave. She suddenly stopped to leave. She suddenly stopped and looked back. She smiled and whispered: "I guess the five of you are happy now." She stood there a while longer then resumed walking.
Meanwhile a vision in the clouds appeared. 5 friends together, smiling. Now they were together, complete. There was nothing they could ask. They were reunited and that was enough.
OWARI
[1] Sally Po
Author's Notes: I wrote this fic under my other penname: Saitoshi. Anyway, I'm not really great with poetry, heh! Feedback, please!
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