Notes: Okay, I went back and put this entire story into proper chapters, and here's the first one. And because I am getting a little more used to the idea that these things are going on the net, here's the disclaimer: I don't own them. I wish I did, but I don't. I don't have any money, so don't sue me, cause all you'll get is my cat and he's white and fluffy and really annoying. Enjoy and review!

The house was quiet and dark, the others all asleep upstairs. I'd been talking to Duo for most of the evening. I know, me, Heero Yuy, talking, but... but Duo had somehow wrangled me into a conversation. I learned a lot about him, and I guess he learned a lot about me, too.

"Do you miss it?" Duo asked, frowning, a sorrowful, wistful tone to his voice.

"Miss what?"

"Miss that part of you that you gave up in order to be a killer, to be a Gundam pilot. I do. Not often, but sometimes; sometimes, I wonder how different I'd be if I hadn't killed that part of me that stopped me from being Shinigami."

I hesitated. "I don't think I ever had that part of me. I was trained to be a killer since I was born. I don't know how to be anything else."

"I didn't have that part of me for long. I lost it when I was about eight. But... sometimes I wonder. We gave up so much to be what we are and do what we do. Sacrifice for the cause and all that shit. Sometimes I sorta wonder how different we'd be. I don't think Wufei would be much different, and Trowa probably wouldn't. But Quatre, I think he'd be different, more... cheerful. I mean, I know he's cheerful enough, but sometimes, he gets all quiet and sad. You can tell that he's hurting about the things he has to do, the person he has to be."

He fell silent and I prodded, "Would you be different?"

".... I think so. I mean, I became Shinigami way before I became a Gundam pilot, but... I think, I would be different. Less... haunted."

"And me?"

"You.... I dunno. I mean, like you said, you don't know how to be anything else, but....well, I think you'd be different."

"How?"

"I dunno. Maybe... more relaxed. I mean, you never stop thinking about the war, about the big mission, and I think... if you didn't have that worry, that responsibility, maybe you wouldn't be so... serious. I can't imagine you ever being like me or Quatre, but I think maybe you wouldn't be so... closed off. Maybe you'd let someone get close to you."

I thought about that for a minute. Would I be different without the war? Duo was right, I was constantly thinking about the cause. Would I really be different? I didn't think so, but... maybe. Then I thought about that last sentence. I couldn't see anyone getting close to me. Only two people had ever really tried: Relena, and Duo. I'd rather wear a frilly pink dress than ever get close to her. But Duo.... Some small, forgotten part of me, a part I hadn't even thought existed, wanted to let Duo inside my defences. A tiny voice at the back of my head was saying, Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it'd be nice. Maybe.

"You don't let anyone get close to you, either," I said aloud. "You pretend, but you keep everyone at a distance."

He gave a lop-sided grin. "Yeah, I guess I do. Shinigami's just not a good person to get close to, ya know? I let some people get close to me once, and they died, so... I stopped getting close. But, it's not as if I have a whole lot of people to get close to, ya know?"

"We're very isolated."

"Yeah, even among the resistance. Whenever we walk into a resistance base, everyone just sort of... looks. Have you noticed that?"

I had. We didn't visit the resistance bases often, but when we did, we stuck together. We're all loners, except Quatre, but we always stick together. The Gundam pilots, the ones who are always different, always on the outside.

Duo fell silent again, staring out the window at the dark. I watched him, memorizing his features without really knowing why. Alright, so maybe in some dark place in my heart, I did know why, but I just wasn't up to admitting it right then, so bugger off.

"Do you ever think about what will happen after the war?" Duo asked after a long couple of moments. "If we win, I mean."

I hesitated. Did I? "No."

"Me either. Wonder what we'll do-if we're alive. Quatre will go back his old life, the family business. Trowa will probably go back to the circus with Catherine. Wufei, who knows, but he'll find something, probably become a professor at some college or join some form of law enforcement or something. But, what about us two? The others, this isn't really their lives, ya know? They've always had something else. But me and you, we don't got nothing else. This war is everything to us. I have no bloody idea how I'm gonna survive after it's over. What'll I do? I really can't see myself settling down in a nine-to-five job and going home to a nice house with a white picket fence, with the wife and kids and a couple of dogs. And I can't see you doing that either." He sighed heavily, leaning forward and covering his face with his hands. "Man, that's depressing."

I looked at him and realized that he had let his mask drop. All the grins and smiles and jokes were gone, leaving him very... serious; depressed; haunted. I felt very... honoured that he had shown me his true face. He never showed anyone else. Which begged the question, why me?

"Because I know you understand," he muttered, as if reading my thoughts. He let his hands fall down and sneaked a glance at me. "Like I said, the others, they wouldn't understand. But you do. I know that. Quatre, he'd just go all pitiful and say, Oh, Duo, don't think like that. Trowa would give me a look and wander away. Wufei probably wouldn't say anything. But you, you understand. You know exactly what I'm thinking."

And I did. I understood perfectly. Duo and I were Gundam pilots to the core, soldiers, fighters. Nothing would ever change that. We lived for fighting, for danger, and we couldn't survive without it. It hit me then that I didn't intend to live through this war. If I didn't die in battle, I'd commit suicide. I could not live in... peace, normality, whatever the hell you call it. And Duo couldn't either. I don't think he intended to commit suicide, but...

"I'm gonna self-destruct my Gundam, with me in it," Duo said. "And if on the off-chance that that doesn't work, like with you, I'll probably go out looking for some serious, serious danger. Shinigami ain't gonna go out quietly. He's gonna go down in a blaze o' glory."

I didn't know what to say to that. Not unusual, I'm not good with words. But, looking at his... disheartened expression, I wanted to. For some reason, I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to tell him not to die. I wanted to touch him. What the fuck is going on with me?

"I got a mission tomorrow," Duo said, and I blinked. While missions were strictly confidential between base and pilot, we tended to tell each other the basics. Duo hadn't been near his laptop all day, so he'd waited a while to tell us. Uh, tell me. Why hadn't he told the others sooner? "It's a sneak, grab and blow."

Translated, that meant it was an infiltration-extraction mission where he demolished the place afterwards. That last was unusual. Normally, infiltration-extraction missions meant that you got the target out undetected and left the base/building/whatever alone. I frowned.

"What else?" I asked, because I knew that there was something else.

"The target is a scientist who wants to come to our side, bringing with him tons of information that could help. Only they've put some kind of chip in him, homing beacon kind of thing. I have to make it look like he died so that they won't trace him immediately, meaning our doctors can remove the chip. And the best way to do that is complete demolition, where they'll have to spend a weak identifying each body."

"Of course."

"Here's where it gets hard. He's not staying at a military base. He's staying at a civilian hotel. I'll have to completely destroy the place, civilians included."

Oh. I opened my mouth and then closed it, not sure of what to say. Killing civilians by accident was hard. Killing them on purpose was harder. Killing dozens, possibly hundreds, including children, on purpose was... there wasn't a word for it. I'd only done it once, and it had nearly killed me, though I didn't show it and I'll deny it under torture.

"I've got the blood of civilians on my hands, we all have, and I've got more than the others, equalling yours, but this... I researched the hotel as soon as I got the mission. It's large, one hundred and fifty civilians. It's near the beach, the park, and the arcade, so it's popular with tourists, tourists with kids. The hotel even has a little crèche. Out of morbid curiosity, I looked up how many kids there will be when I'm there. Seventy kids my age or younger. And you know what, to get maximum impact, I'll have to plant some major explosives in the crèche, among other places. The kids won't stand a chance. None of them will. Over a hundred sacrificed... for one man and some information." A fierce expression came onto his features, savage. "We're supposed to be the good guys," he growled. "We're not supposed to do shit like this. If we do this shit, what the hell makes us different from the bad guys?"

I didn't have an answer to that. He stood up so abruptly, my hand was on my gun before I realized it. He stalked up the stairs, his anger, his frustration, swirling around him like a dark cloud. And inside that cloud was the other emotions-the guilt, the sadness, the horror. We all have lines we won't cross, things we won't do. I only have one: I won't rape anyone. But the others have more lines. Duo has fewer than the others, but he has some, and this, I think, was one of them. And if he crossed this line, what did that make him?

I continued to sit on the couch for a few more minutes. Duo and I shared a room and I knew that he wasn't in the mood for more talking. Neither was I. So I sat, and I gave him time to change and get in bed. He'd pretend to be asleep, and I'd know he was awake because he always woke up when someone entered the room, and he'd know I knew, but he'd pretend, and I wouldn't break the charade.

After five minutes, I turned off the small lamp that had been illuminating the living room and walked upstairs. I paused briefly to listen. Quatre and Trowa were in their room. A bedspring creaked as someone rolled over. They were both breathing, both alive. Wufei was breathing, and alive. I could hear all this, distant but clear, and knew that I shouldn't have been able to. No normal human could hear someone breathing in a different room. But I could.

I shook my head and walked into my bedroom. Duo was in his bed, the one at the far side of the room, turned away from me, quilt drawn tight around his shoulders. He normally slept facing the door, just in case, and I agreed with it-I mean, I always took the bed closest to the door, and faced the door, just in case. I didn't comment. He was supposed to be asleep, remember.

I changed silently into the dark blue cotton shorts I used for pyjamas and slipped into my own bed. I wasn't in the least bit sleepy, though I could make myself sleep if I wanted to, but I didn't make myself. I stared at the ceiling, and listened to Duo breathe. I finally went to sleep sometime around midnight.