The Only Love I Will Ever Get
A look inside the mind of a Gundam Pilot.
What I would give to blow this battleship into trillions of little pieces
of tinsel and let it decorate space for Christmas tomorrow.
I don't even care that my broken body would probably be topping the tree
like a star, letting my blood float around me in space like a string of
cranberries.
It's better than a failed mission.
It's better than life.
It's better than letting Zechs win.
But in order for Zechs to lose, I have to get this idiot off the ship.
The moron who admires me for what she thinks I am.
It's like she's a....
I seem to fill the war in her life.
She knows that I'm going to protect her.
She knows I can't hurt her.
And that makes her think I love her.
.......
Or maybe she just gets turned on by the barrel of a gun.
.......
I do not love Relena Peacecraft. The name inspires contempt, hate, and
anguish in my heart.
Or whatever's left of it.
I'm not equipped to love Relena Peacecraft. Love was never known to me,
nor will it ever be.
Camaraderie? I'm becoming accustomed to it, after working with the other
pilots for six months, with Maxwell for nearly a year. It isn't so bad having
someone to back you up when the battle gets too rough.
Friendship? Dr. J. warned me against it, but it comes, just the same.
Maxwell is my.....
.....my.....
.....Friend. I hate to admit it, but that nuisance is my friend.
The word is so hard to think, even harder to say.
You might even say Zechs is my friend.
If two can be friends and enemies at the same time.
It's not that having friends that try to kill me are uncommon.
Hell, the
first day Maxwell and I met, I ended up with hits to my arm and leg. Of
course, Relena escaped without a scratch.
I almost wish she hadn't.
If Maxwell had shot her and not me....
Or if he had shot us both....
No.
S--t.
Without Relena, I'd have been stuck with an empty mission. I'd either
have killed myself jumping from the hospital window, or when I
self-destructed...
Damn, that was the thrill of my life.
Self-Detonation in Wing was the thrill of my life.
Good thing telepathy isn't a technological advantage we have yet.
Quatre has something like that. I think he calls it "uchuu no kokoro".
"Spaceheart".
Empathy.
Empathy is only good for masochists.
Actually, it's more of a sadistic trait.
Feeling the pain of others...
...if one gets pleasure off of it the way I do, who needs love?
Not me.
Not in a time like this.
War is a circus of pain, and I am the ringmaster!
Love is the shock of reality that ends the show, and sends the audience
home, bewildered.
As long as there's pain, I don't need love!
Then why am I fighting so hard?
...........
Yeah. That is odd.
Why am I fighting to end pain?
Pain is pleasure.
Why am I fighting to end it?
........
Is love better?
Do I know that?
........
How could love be better than pain?
Love can be unrequited, unfulfilled, and lost. Love can switch it's focus
from one person to the next. Pain is consistent, pain isn't fickle, and it
doesn't matter who it happens to. Pain can be inflicted on the self. You can
never really love yourself.
Love? better than pain?
Ha!
I actually remember my first experience with pain. My first real one,
anyway.
I was about three years old, and wandering around XI-1179 at night. When
I turned a street corner, there were these two soldiers brawling their heads
off. One of them picked up a beer bottle and whacked the other over the head
with it, shattering the glass. One of the shards flew by and along the edge
of my right arm. I remember the hot blood dribbling down it like it was a
tear.
I had never cried.
I didn't cry then.
When I felt the blood drip all the way to my elbow, I had begun to wonder
what it was and why it felt so comfortable.
I went to a place where I could sit down and tried to look at my arm. The
color was the most vibrant red I had ever seen, and it felt warm and sticky
against my dirty skin. The cut was very much open and I loved the color it
was turning; a brighter red than the blood itself. And the ache was a sharp
one; sharp but lingering.
I was feeling experimental, so I took the first two fingers of my little
left hand and scooped some of the blood into my mouth.
Now that I've had coffee, I have something to compare it to. It was more
like spiced wine, but hot like coffee, and I thought it tasted black. Not
sweet at all.
I remember thinking to myself 'I've tasted light'.
Until I figured out what is really was, I called it light.
I still do, sometimes.
Boy, do I wish I could make that moronic princess see the light.
I hate what she does to me.
She makes me feel weak.
Like a man without blood.
...........
Why can't I kill her?
I've tried countless times.
I couldn't shoot her, couldn't smash her, couldn't blow that annoying
little aircraft she was on out of the sky, and watch it spiral into the snow.
I couldn't betray her in the Sank Kingdom, couldn't get her at Romefeller
like the John Wilkes Booth I was meant to be.
And here I am, trying to get her off a ship I would much rather be
blowing up.
Her, and her insane brother, and that belligerent spider-eyed b-tch
Dorothy.
The maddest of all mad scientists, Quinze the vengeful.
The other scientists are here as well, I'll bet.
Dr. J.
I want to kill you.
I want to kill you for what you did to me.
............
What did you do to me?
That operation on my skin, for one.
Operation Ascliepus.
It's because of you that I no longer look Japanese. You added something
to my chemical makeup and made my skin tougher than the Numean Lion. The
chemicals spread to my hair, and stole pigment from it. Pigment and oil.
To soothe the wounds.
My hair is lighter, and my skin is darker than it should be because of
you. I don't look like what I am because of you.
Would Relena still obsess over me if I looked how I was meant to?
Then there was the bone-coating issue.
What the hell did you mean by it, Dr. J.?
For the first few weeks, I felt like a f--king android, walking around
with all those extra cells inside me. I was going to explode.
But it wore off. And it was worth it. Collateral damage could sure be a
liability. The quicker it heals, the better for the mission.
But the blood...
...that was a step too far.
One step too far.
You shouldn't have done anything to my blood, Dr. J.
I don't care how much quicker it helps me react.
I don't care how much easier it is to breathe.
I don't even care that I'm a walking transfusion for any random civilian
on the street.
You don't mess with the blood.
It was all I had of my own.
My last comfort.
And now it tastes like s--t.
............
I'm no longer human.
I am a machine.
A death machine.
...........
You did this to me, Dr. J.
And for what you did to me...
....omae o korosu....
Omae o korosu!
I....
...will....
KILL YOU!
I will make it slow, and painful! I will remove your insides one at a
time, one at a time until there is nothing left it you but your heart and
your blood! I will remove your ironclad heart with a broken glass bottle and
store your blood in it!
And whenever I take a sip, I will think of the pain you caused me!
The pain Zechs causes me!
The pain Relena....
.........
No.
Not that.
Anything but that.
..........
It's true, isn't it.
I love her.
She causes me pain, and that's why I love her.
Because pain is....
"Go away. I have nothing to say to anyone except my brother."
"I can't do that."
....the only love I will ever get.
-------------------------------------