Off the battlefield, the man I love is wrought with weaknesses. I have watched him struggle, through both ordeals no one should be able to survive and simple daily situations. Each time, he pushes everything else out of his life except for the pain that would not recede and grits his teeth in weary acceptance. That is his last pretense of strength. Afraid to make a mistake, he is the embodiment of indecision: doubtful, hesitant and ready to withdraw. Sadly, the one thing in life he is confident about is this: we have no future together.

A vast chasm divides us, one that is not a matter of distance. Too many differences between us, too many jagged edges in our uncompromising personalities, and infinitely many ways we could hurt each other. After all, we were trained to hurt -- there should be no surprise then when we find our own fists covered with each other's blood. My words are my weapon, his lack of them his shield. Yet, his spontaneous coldness and depressions worry me. I worry and I care, I scream for him and for myself, but in the end he is going to kill me.

Summer is drawing near its end and already all I see is grey. That is the color of you, Heero. Indistinct shadows of the foliage outside fall slanted on the classroom floor. The shadows undulate gently, their real form stirred by the wind. The hum of the cicadas grows increasingly louder, a wave of pure sound energy washing over the entire neighborhood, this tiny plot of land on this tiny colony. The soccer players shouting outside distract you, but not me. This is a stolen moment, a moment of normalcy -- bliss that the mediocre take for granted -- in our insane lives as Gundam pilots. What will a usual civilian remember, years from now? The stillness of the late afternoon in the secrecy of the classroom, and the lover's kiss? The attraction, passion, then ... the end of a long dream?

I don't want to remember anymore.

Summer is ending in flashes of grey.

And you know, Heero, I won't have the end of the war to blame. You might leave before then. Maybe, it was the long stifling summer in a boarding school on a small colony that drove two young minds to irrationality. I can only blame myself, not even you.

Your fingers ensnare themselves in my hair as you press me against the cold wall. I am suddenly hit by a wave of sadness so intense that it soaks into my lungs, a physical pain I feel even in my bones, and leaves me gasping for breath once more. You, me, this moment in time ... shifting away from each other. I find that I lack the strength to stand and the world lurches sharply to one side. But you use your whole upper body to support me, pressing the entire length of your torso against mine, immobilizing me as you continue to torment me. Your insistent dominance leaves me defenseless and utterly vulnerable. I slump forward as you burn your existence in me, calling out your name in a broken voice as if it was the incantation that would save me from you, from myself, and halt the universe and the crazy wars we're fighting. For a moment I feared I would fall and never hit the bottom, for the world was still falling away, but you envelop me in your arms, squeezing me so painfully as if you intended to suffocate me. You didn't want me to see your face. Your close warmth, at this moment, smothers me.

Can't breathe ...

I don't mind. Only at times like these do I see you in color.

// I love you, Duo. You're the best thing that has happened to me.//

If I'm that important to you, why don't you TRY to keep me?

A part of me understands perfectly that you love me, in your own way. I know you well, and I definitely know the immense pressure you place on yourself ...

You believe that we have no future together. Maybe I know that too, but I try to deny it, fail to believe it, always pushing the thought to the back of my mind. I struggle under the water but my fingers simply slip through the dark waves; my struggles are futile, I know, but still I try to be by your side, even if for one second longer.

I am the deep swimmer at night, caught at the edge of the whirlpool.

Life has pulled a trick on me. I thought I've finally found someone who is capable of understanding me ... someone who feels the same pain, someone who is unbelievably kind, someone whose battered soul matches mine. But the only person in this universe who could love me, cannot be with me.

// I will eventually make your life miserable.//

You are an addiction, and you are killing me. I love you and hate you at the same time. What pains me the most is your absolute confidence that we won't make it until the end. I am just foolish, so stupid, to keep hanging on to our relationship, purposefully blind to the fact that holding on only makes our lives worse. It only prolongs the pain.

I look out the dusty window as I braid my hair quickly, breathing a soft sigh. Summer is ending. I hear you shuffle and, not turning, I imagine the suffering look on your face as you regard my back, not knowing what to say to me.

You are still confident that we won't make it. And still, I try.