oO~o Loving Sun Beams
by Shannon the Twisted Link Worshiper

oO~A/N~o Finally, I’ve decided to pick up my little “Loving” arc, aptly named by the loverly Maaya. I guess school does have its perks, as I’m submitting this as a short essay, hehe. They cannot escape Gundam--bwahaha! Anyways, here is Trowa’s segment about everyone’s favourite desert prince! That means, for those of you who are still trying to bribe the Wizard for a brain, 3x4, which, in idiot terms, equates with yaoi! Yaoi, YAOI, yaoi, yaoi... you get the message. There’s also mentions of 1x2 from the first two parts, but for once, they’re not the main focus (*gasp* a sign of the End!). Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. Thanks to Maaya for giving the story a once-over for me. The song “Light Up My Room” belongs to the Bare Naked Ladies. Sorry for the huge delay! Enjoy!

oO~o

I’m not very articulate. I never have been, and probably never will be, my speech often quiet and always right to the point. No, it’s not that I’m dumb, nor that I don’t have anything to say, but just that I believe in the good value of words. Wasting words is a thing that I could count as almost sinful, a crime I might categorize with dull, forced silence that bridles thoughts and emotions inside with nowhere to go, and the rambling, nervous chatter that hides the same sorts of sentiments. Two of my closest friends, a pair of the most frightened and stubborn people I know, are both guilty of those, each just as afraid of the other one finding out his secrets as they are of themselves. I think they’re both stupid, frankly, neither one realizing that building up their defenses so high has simply made them all the more obvious.

Of course, huddled up inside their heads as they are, they’re too deep inside their individual fortresses to realize I know that. But even I must say, with one acting the part of the empty, soulless wanderer, the other a laughing, hyper-active God of Death, both have assumed their particular roles flawlessly, managing to fool even the most astute of us; even fooling themselves. They make this circus preformer look like an idiot. But what would I know about good acting? Nothing, I think, my role not much more than a clown who wears a smiling mask and cries underneath. I’m much more content to watch than to talk, feeling that it would be dangerous to accidentally say to much, afraid that too many words would just sound like an empty, moaning wind whistling past deaf ears.

{A hydro-field cuts through my neighbourhood,
And somehow that always just made me feel good
I can put a spare bulb in my hand
And light up my yard.}

I’ve gotten a little weary of watching Heero and Duo dance around each other though, the repetitive steps of each beginning to fall prey to the same, paranoid beat they’ve been moving to ever since they started working together. I can’t tell them with words the things they need to be able to figure out without any help, together. Words that imposed how I thought they should live their lives would be meaningless to them anyway, and somehow, I think that my silence is more encouraging than anything I could ever come up with to tell them. Or maybe they’re the ones fooling me, aware of something that I am not and somehow watching me try and unearth it on my own with their distance. That would certainly be ironic.

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen either one of them anyway, and for all I know, they could be living together now, settled down into a far more normal routine than I could ever hope for. Heero has drive and Duo has ambition, two traits that could easily act as foils to their self-denying martyrdom, if only they’d allow it. I never did quite understand how either one could be content to just go on feeding lie upon lie to himself, more than they’d ever told to the other.

That’s what Quatre thinks anyway. His opinions on those two misfits are actually quite similar to mine, though he doesn’t really know that. I’ve never actually discussed Heero’s and Duo’s love life with him, though he’s told me what he thinks about them many times, his rants about how idiotic they are often coming after he’s exhausted himself with dropping subtle hints that both are obviously too thick to pick up on. It’s funny, though, how even when little Q, as Duo used to sometimes call him, was trying to be angry, he still just came off as a warm bubble of sunshine. He cared a lot for his friends, even when they were being jackasses and he was ready to strangle them, his kindness never failing to glimmer through the huge crevaces in one of his pissed off and annoyed moods. Maybe I’ll actually talk to him about it this time, when he comes for his annual visit. He never fails to drop by the circus when we stop on his colony during our rounds through the L4 sector.

{Late at night, when the wires in the walls
Sing in tune with the din of the falls,
I’m conducting it all while I sleep
To light this whole town.

I have no idea when he’ll be around, though I have this odd feeling like I’m going to run into him soon. It’s like this weird, twanging feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know, kind of like when people complain that they’ve got a tingling knee right before it rains, I get these weird, premonition-like sensations inside whenever Quatre’s about to show up. Maybe I’m an empath like he is, just only sensitive to him, that’s all. Does that even make sense? I suppose it makes as much sense as crying over a destroyed Gundam. After a while, you get used to certain people and things in your life. In my life, I had two of those: Quatre and a high-powered mobile suit.

Quatre’s been one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, one of the few shiny spots in the otherwise dull chrome that has been welded into my satire of a life. I doubt I’ve had as much of an impact on his life as he’s had on mine. But to be honest, I could probably count the number of people who’ve even remotely cared about me on my one hand, and the fact that he actually goes out of his way to make me feel good means more to me than I think he’ll ever know. After all, it’s not like I get any special treatment from him; Quatre’s nice to everybody, even Heero and Wufei at the lowest of their low points. But even still, it’s nice to know there’s someone out there who’ll always be there to put his arm around my shoulder when I need it. That alone is a reason to keep on living.

{If you question what I would do
To get over and be with you,
Lift you up over everything
To light up my room....
My room....}

So here I am, sitting alone in the trailer I share with my sister, just waiting, with only the loud ticking of the wall clock to keep me company. It’s nearing midnight, and the lights of the circus tents have been dark for quite some time now. Cathy’s gone out with a bunch of the other acrobats she does an act with, and I didn’t feel inclined to join them. I actually kind of thought I’d be a nuisance, especially if they were out to have a good time. Just about everyone else has either fallen asleep or gone out too, and there’s little else for me to do than listen to the quiet humdrum noises of the animals as they settle down for the night.

Alone. That’s not always a bad thing, and I hesitate to say I’m really lonely. I mean, I do have my sister and everyone here at the circus, and I’m sure if I phoned up any of my friends from the war, they’d not mind talking for a while. But sometimes, I have to admit that all the time I spend by myself gets to me a little. My problem is that I think too much, and after a while, too much thinking leads you in circles, or makes you start contemplating things you’d rather not.

The clock lets out a low, synthesized hum as it strikes twelve, which draws my attention for about a second, before I plunge myself into those icy thoughts of mine again. I’ve been sitting on the edge of my bed for the past hour and a half, just staring blankly at the smiling mask that grins back at me with empty eyes. I don’t know why I always wear this mask for my bit with Catherine, since I can’t say I particularly like the thing to begin with. It’s an empty, soulless, white thing that just covers my face, and does nothing to hide my sadness. Isn’t a mask supposed to make you seem like someone you’re not? This mask is simply me painted all over again, and I can’t say I like having my emotions flashing like a neon sign for everyone to read. And I think that is because I hate my stupid, sad smile and my even stupider, silent tears. A crying clown. Now that is ironic.

You see the trouble with thinking? It gets you nowhere.

{There’s a shopping cart in the ravine.
The foam on the creek is like pop and ice cream;
Field full of tires that is always on fire
To light my way home.}

You know what else gets you nowhere? Wishing. Wishing and dreaming stupid dreams. Like me sitting here, wishing Quatre would show up when I know he probably won’t. And even if he did, he’d hardly have five seconds to spare with a gangly clown with not enough going for him in his life. Quatre’s got everything going for him, and there’s hardly a moment the poor boy can sit down to catch his breath. Meanwhile, I hang around on my ass waiting for something to happen to me. Something that won’t ever happen to me, no matter how hard I wish.

But don’t let the fact that Quatre is practically the ruler of the world fool you into thinking he’s any less kinder than he’d been when he was fifteen. No, Quatre is still kind, almost ridiculously so. That’s part of the reason he’s so busy, what, with all the charities he’s always helping, and the many fundraisers he’s always holding. You know, it might sound kind of selfish, but I almost feel that even though Quatre’s heart is so big, there’s still no place in it for people like me. For heaven’s sake, even a guy like Heero managed to fall into Quatre’s good graces. I mean, I know exactly what he thinks and feels about nearly everyone he’s ever met, but I don’t know where I stand with him. Our relationship has a certain, unspoken quality to it, though sometimes I just wish we’d be more open about what things are between us. He sometimes shoots me these certain, secret looks when he thinks I’m not looking, and I’ve always tried to figure out what they mean. Not that I really expect anything romantic to come about, but still, I sometimes can’t help but wonder.

{There are luxuries we can’t afford,
But in our house, we never get bored,
‘Cause we can dance to the radio station
That plays in our teeth.}

Quatre’s not as much of an open book as a lot of people generally seem to take him for. Actually, Quatre’s not a lot of things that people take him for. He’s not an innocent little boy, nor is he a vicious ex-terrorist. He’s not a lying businessman, and he’s far from a selfish, rich snot out to gain for his own ambition. He’s not always a happy ball of sweetness, but he smiles like he is all the time anyway.

That’s a plus to being the silent guy in the group: you get pretty good at reading people. I’ve been watching and listening to Quatre carefully ever since I’d first met him. I mean, even when he’s smiling, he has this certain, sad quality to his eyes and a despondant lilt to his voice. I wanted to know what secret burden made him sometimes sound like he was just going to break down and cry. Sunshine couldn’t ever be snuffed out, could it? I hope not. I’d be left in total darkness if that ever happened.

{If you question what I would do
To get over and be with you,
Lift you up over everything
To light up my room....
My room....}

Suddenly, there’s a loud banging on the door of the trailer. Tossing my mask aside, I languidly stand up and stride over towards the door with my long, gallivanting strides. It’s a weird, sort of awkward step that gets ingrained into your muscles when you’ve been tiptoeing down tightrope wires as long as I have, and Duo had always made fun of me for it. I don’t know where he comes off laughing at the way I walk, especially with his long, gangly legs and erratic steps. You know, you can tell a lot more about a person by his or her walk than you might think; for instance, Heero has these quick, short, calculated steps, and Wufei almost seemed to proudly glide wherever he went, like a dragon on a cloud.

I suppose the reason I never made a big deal over Duo’s teasing was because Quatre, in turn, made fun of Duo for me, and much more than just his walk too. Quatre never initially strikes anyone as a troublemaker, but once you get to know him and you pair him up with one Duo Maxwell, he can be a right devil. I’m sometimes jealous of their friendship, more than I think I should be. I mean, I’ve seen to two of them at it, huddled together and giggling at everyone who walks by, like they’re telling secrets about whoever it happens to be. Even despite Duo’s rather dark disposition on things, both he and Quatre have a certain ability to add brightness wherever they go, no matter how demonic they’re being. Heero and I often used to sit back and shake our heads at the way Quartre and Duo would carry on, since the two of us usually found ourselves in a similar position when it came to the pair of them. The only real difference was, whereas Heero eventually got to take his devil home with him, while I’m still waiting for mine to find me.

Wrenching open the door of the trailer, I was surprised to see Cathy standing there. She smiled at me and climbed up the small steps outside, sweeping inside with her hair bobbing merrily around her face all the while. She’s hardly looking at me as she walks to the other end of the room and tells me that she’d just forgotten her purse, while I still stand there with the door open, letting the flies in. Before I’ve even really heard what she’s saying, she’s practically out the door again, when she suddenly slaps her forehead and starts digging in her pockets. Eventually she finds the little slip of paper she was searching for, hands it to me and then kisses me on the cheek before hopping back out into the night.

{A hydro-field cuts through my neighbourhood,
And somehow that always just made me feel good.
I can put a spare bulb in my hand
And light up my yard.]}

I closed the door behind her and unfolded the paper as I blindly wandered back to my spot on the edge of the bed. I read silently, almost not believing the neatly printed words as they flash through my brain: ‘Caught a train to see you; I’ll be there by the end of the week. Love, Quatre.’ My heart flutters as I read it, happy that I’ll have some company to cheer up my gloomy days very soon. Glancing again at the clock, I realize how little I have to do, and just how boring and mundane my life has become.

And then there’s that word near the end of the note. The second-to-last one: ‘love’. He said ‘Love Quatre’. That word is like all those secret glances and bright smiles he always used to send in my direction. Maybe, I think to myself as I reread the note, my life isn’t as plain as I make it out to be.

I looked up at the clock yet again, sighing when I saw that it had only been about two minutes since I’d last checked the time. Maybe I’m thinking too hard, or maybe that ticking is just really starting to grate on my nerves.

{Light up my yard.
Lights of my yard.
Light up my ya~ard.}

...Or maybe I really am just that lonely....

oO~o

a/n: Hope you liked that. It was my first real shot at a 3x4, and I hope its bittersweetness made it a little more interesting than the usual fare you get with those two. Anyways, I can’t think of much else to say other than to make sure you let me know what you think! I’m working on the last vital story to this arc, the Quatre story, so keep an eye out for that! Ja ne!