A War Worth Fighting Part 8
Judging by the way Heero was sputtering incoherently when he opened his eyes, Duo knew that he had never intended his question to come out. Let alone reach his ears. It was almost... cute how he was obviously looking for a way to explain away the slip.
"So, you're curious about my hair," the private smirked as he rolled onto his stomach on his cot and propped his upper body up while keeping his head turned towards the officer. "Most people are when they see it."
Clear that he would not be able to talk himself out of the situation, Heero sighed and relented to just allowing himself be caught. It seemed as though Maxwell was willing to talk about the matter by not being offended at having it addressed.
Truth be told, the sergeant was very curious to know the story behind that rope of hair. He supposed there was no real harm in learning.
With a deep breath, Heero sat up on his own mattress and shrugged, "Long hair like that on a man does have a way of standing out. It is odd that anyone in the military like yourself would be allowed to keep your hair that long. Is there not a solidarity clause to their having everyone shave their heads?"
Nodding, Duo smiled, "Yes, there is. But before I explain that one, I guess I better explain why I grew my hair out this long to begin with."
For just a moment, he hesitated. There was nothing wrong in giving a little detail of his life. After a couple of months of having no one to really talk to, this was a nice change... regardless of the fact that he was sharing something with a sworn enemy.
Taking a deep breath, Duo began, "My dad, Solo, and I were close from the time I was born. He was a well-respected Senator and served in that role for several terms, always winning his reelections by landslides. As busy as he was, he always made time for me and my mother." [1]
Heero sat in attention as he watched his charge and listened. Looking to the windows to watch the millions of stars shining in the sky, the private went on, "Dad would even take me to the Senate building to introduce me to his colleagues and show me how democracy worked first-hand."
A wistful smile lit his face against the glow from the moon as he chuckled deeply, "I still remember my first visit there, when I was six. The building was huge with white pillars. I was so scared about going in my dad almost had to carry me in because my legs wouldn't work."
Unable to help the small grin on his own face, the sergeant pulled his legs close to prop his head on his bent knees. Never before had anyone actually shared anything like this with him.
Still staring to the heavens, Duo went on, "I was going to attend a political college once I finished high school so that I could be just like my old man. He was such a caring, smart leader. Nothing he voted for or against was done so without his considering how it would affect the American people as a whole. That was what I wanted to do with my life... represent the people and stand for their rights."
His thin frame shook a bit when he took another breath. Swallowing against the lump that formed in his throat, the soldier shook his braided head. "Then, when I was twelve, I returned home from school to find my mother crying in our living room." Voice cracking, he whispered, "My... my father was killed in an accident while returning from Washington."
Cobalt eyes widening, Heero blinked in surprise at the sudden turn in the story. As one who had lost his own father, he could relate to the grief that he could see on his prisoner's face. It took a moment for him to fight off the thickness in his own throat.
Finally regaining his composure, Duo wiped a few stray tears from his face and sighed, "Anyway, I was so devastated I kind of lost myself and didn't care about simple things like hair maintenance. If my hair got in the way, I just pulled it back in a ponytail and got through the day without thinking about it again.
"By the time my mother finally made a comment about its length, it was past my shoulders. I just trimmed it from that point on to grow it in my dad's memory. It was almost like I could carry a part of him with me forever after that."
Leaning towards the cell's grated metal wall, Heero frowned, "You actually wanted to hold onto something that reminded you of such a painful time in your life?"
Slowly turning his head to meet the eyes on him, Duo smiled, "It's not just the pain that I'm holding on to. Of course there is my dad's death that is linked to my hair, but it's also the good times that we had that I don't want to forget. In a weird way, it's almost like a security blanket protecting his whole memory."
Understanding filled the officer's gaze and he nodded. So he finally had a reason for the long tresses. But there was still one big question. "How were you able to keep your braid when you joined the army?" he inquired.
"Ah," his companion grinned. Spinning himself back onto his side, he kelp himself leveled up on his elbow and answered, "Not long before I turned eighteen last year, I knew that I wanted to sign on to join the service. My mother never had an official voice in any of the Senate's delegations and votes, but she was influential enough that she could have had me overlooked from every having to be drafted."
Stunned by what he heard, Heero's back straightened as he stammered, "Y-you mean you could have been free and clear from having to fight and you still did anyway?" It was such a remarkable and unbelievable thing to him- to know that he wanted to join the service during a war that gripped the whole world.
Nonchalantly, Duo shrugged, "I was just getting ready for college and so it would have been years before I could defend anyone the way I've hoped to as a politician. This was something I could do now. Of course, there's a better likelihood of something happening by going to war... but what better way to stand up for what you believe in if you're willing to die for it?"
For a long moment, the sergeant just sat in shocked silence as he looked at his charge.
There would have been no question in Maxwell's mind that he was going to be sent off with the possibility of dying when he signed on to the army. And yet he went willingly. Such a thing could only be respected.
Once he found his voice, Heero said quietly, "I have underestimated you." Taking it for the compliment that it was, the private's smile just grew.
Quickly getting back onto the subject, Duo stated, "Anyway, my mom wanted to do something for me if she could not get me out of the service. Her boyfriend also works for the Senate and offered to see to any request I had before I signed in. My request was for her to see that I could keep my hair. They made it happen. The order went out that my braid was not to be touched."
Heero sat back as he took everything he'd learned in. Finally, there was a background to the prisoner that he had been watching for over two months now.
Whether this new knowledge was a good or bad thing, he was not certain. Only time would reveal that.
But this... talk... it was nice. It was nothing like anything he had experienced with his own people before. Here, this American was actually treating him like an equal. Like someone that mattered enough that he was willing to share something with him.
"I am sure that hair that long drew a lot of unwanted attention," Heero mused aloud.
Nodding, Duo said, "Oh sure. I've been called basically everything under the sun by my superiors and colleagues. There were threats that my braid would be cut whenever I fell asleep, so I did not get a lot of rest from the time that I was trained to the time I was deported."
Cobalt eyes clouded in thought, Heero tilted his head and questioned, "Did you ever think of just cutting your braid off and making life easier on yourself?"
Without hesitating, Duo shook his head and replied simply, "Not once." Shifting so that he was sitting up to face his rescuer, he stated, "You know. Aside from the obvious differences between us, there is only one thing that really sets us as apart."
Frowning, the sergeant asked, "What is that?"
The braided soldier paused before smiling sadly, "I accept who I am. And there is not a goddamned thing anyone else can say about me that would change that."
It was like a slap to the face. Leaning back as though he had been struck, Heero's eyes widened. That was certainly not something he had expected to hear.
Never before had he considered such a thing.... such a difference between them.
Duo tilted his own head with a sad expression. "You've never accepted yourself, have you, Ro? It bothers you that you have something that makes you stand out from the others."
Looking away and towards the windows, Heero was at a loss for words. Too many thoughts and realizations were swirling in his head. All his life, he had been different from everyone around him.
When he was never accepted by his own kind, how could he accept himself? He was impure.
Allowing a moment for his captor to have things set in, Duo finally broke the silence. "For you I can imagine it being more difficult than what I go through because of our cultural differences. There's a lot more pressure here to fall into the norm, huh?"
Suddenly very uncomfortable over the change in the discussion, the officer met the violet eyes watching him and said quickly, "I do not want to talk about this."
Not balking for a moment, the American went on, "You feel pretty alone, don't you? Not a friend in the world that you can talk to or count on. And the only person that you can count on is yourself."
A small lump formed in Heero's throat at that. Why was he allowing him to get under his skin like this?
"I'm the only person that you can talk to," Duo said as he gripped the edge of the thin metal diamonds that wove through his wall. "...because I'm the only person who knows what you're going through. What I'm going through now you've been through your whole life."
What a strange irony that was. And yet it was the truth.
Stricken by the realization, Heero's mouth opened and closed as he tried to find his voice to protest. But there was nothing that he could say to prove his captive wrong.
If there was anyone he knew that could understand and relate to him, it was the very person that he had seen as little more than a foe... until recently.
Lowering his hands from his cold cell wall, Duo sighed, "I'm not expecting you to be able to just accept me as someone you turn to any time soon, pal. And maybe it's only because I feel indebted after everything you've done for me that has me trying to be someone you talk to, but you can trust me."
Trust. There really was not anyone other than his mother that Heero could ever say that he trusted. Now that he was on his own... maybe it was time to have someone else in his corner for a change.
It would take time to feel completely comfortable with the notion. But there certainly were pros to finally having someone that he could actually talk to.
And it was not if though his charge could do anything to improve his situation by their simply talking. By the sergeant's confiding in the private he was not going against any codes or rules to seeing that all was well by the time Treize came to collect his prize.
Raising a finger, Heero warned sternly, "Do not push me into this. I can see where there would be benefits to something like this, but do not force it. Don't think that I would not be willing to put you in your original holding cell to leave you to the other guards if you try or do anything that displeases me or makes me uncomfortable."
Much to his surprise, Duo actually smiled warmly. "Fair enough," he nodded. "I can live with that." He paused to bite his lip before saying softly, "Thanks. It's been a while since I was able to talk to anyone, too."
With a wide yawn, the braided soldier stretched. "Well, you have an early start tomorrow," he commented. "You better get some sleep."
Heero snorted and rolled his eyes as he lowered himself onto the cot. "Yes, mother," he taunted while pulling his blanket over himself.
Laughing, Duo curled up on his own mattress. "So he does have a sense of humor," he chuckled deeply. His violet eyes drifting closed, he yawned again and muttered, "'Night, 'Ro."
Simply watching the other soldier for a moment, Heero responded quietly, "Good night, Duo."
Turning onto his back and readjusting his head on his pillow, he closed his own blue eyes and relaxed for sleep to pull him in.
* * * * * *
Laughing as he jumped from the cockpit of his plane onto the carrier's deck, Wufei cheered, "Those bastards never even saw us coming!" His comrades running up were shouting and hollering in excitement while welcoming their team of fighter pilots back from their latest mission. [2]
After receiving several handshakes and pats on the back from the crew hands, the Chinese-American smirked and saluted the superiors over seeing the return. It had been quite the fleet of planes heading for the fleet of carriers. More than twenty Japanese planes- all looking to crash into the American crafts and take out as many as they could with them.
The attacks, now being labeled 'Kamikaze' suicide missions, had only started at the end of October. U. S. ships in the Leyte Gulf were the first victims of this new form of attack. No one had ever seen or heard of anything like it. [3]
Ever since word traveled through the navy, everyone was on edge at the possibility of having an aircraft fall upon them. So far, the crafts that Wufei's Air Force unit was assigned to had been lucky to find the enemy before they found them.
In a few hours, another team of planes would be sent out to patrol the skies in search for any others that may try to strike. But for now, there was a brief moment for the crew to breath... even a little.
Once he made his usual report in, Wufei headed down the living quarters and into his room. Removing his leather flight coat as he moved towards his door, he found a couple of letters addressed to him taped by the doorknob. His dark eyes widening, he quickly removed the envelopes and opened the door.
All but throwing his coat aside as he moved into his room, the pilot flipped the light switch and sat on the edge of his bed. He had completely forgotten that there was a mail run due. Such runs were few and far between, but he always received a letters from home each time. They always made for a nice reprieve from the terror of the war around him.
Lightly running his fingers over the front of the envelope at the top of the pile, Wufei smiled wistfully. He recognized the handwriting without even needing to read the return address to know who it was from.
Meiran.
Opening the envelope in a rush, the pilot unfolded the letter inside and read of the latest news in his fiancée's life back in America. Unable to help the wide smile on his face as he went over her sweet and loving words, he chuckled quietly to himself.
By the time he was finished, he inhaled the perfume that had been sprayed on the paper and sighed. Adding the letter to the growing pile on the top of his desk, Wufei shook his head and muttered to himself, "It's been a damn long year away, love."
His lover had been heartbroken when he signed onto the military. But when China had been attacked by Japan, his pride for his native homeland was too fierce for him to just sit and watch what happened. This was a personal for him. For all of the Chinese-American soldiers that joined the cause.
When the war ended, he fully intended to make good on his promise to Meiran to marry her. Until then, he could not allow himself to think too much about the future.
Life for a soldier was always filled with uncertainties.
At least he had his letters to give him her company in the Pacific.
It took nearly a half-hour before Wufei finished reading his letters from his parents and siblings. Those messages went onto the pile with the others that would be read and reread many times to come.
Removing his journal when he was finished, he jotted down his thoughts and highlights of the last few days. Should he survive the war, he wanted to remember everything that he had seen and done through the days when his memory would fade from old age.
By the time he was finished over a couple of hours later, Wufei looked up to his ceiling far below the ship deck at the sound of a dozen plane engines roaring to life.
Another round of pilots were about to take off to watch the skies already.
TBC...
[1] Obviously, I aged Solo considerable to match Lady Une's age for this story. I figured it would be a cute tie-in to why Duo was given his name.
[2] As an explanation to Wufei's role in this, this is a reference from a webpage dedicated to the Chinese-American soldiers that fought in WWII: After the attack on Pearl Harbor, the United States declared war against Japan. It was recorded that there were 4,000 Chinese Americans that fought in these wars with the U.S.
[3] Also historically accurate. And for those with good memories, Leyte was where I have written as Duo's last battle before being captured. How's that for a tie-in? :0)
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