Arc II, Chapter 54

Duo

Spring is always beautiful in the estate, the flowers that had withered over the course of winter coming back into full bloom, coloring the landscape in bright cheer and decadent pastels. With the revival of the flora came the descent of their keepers: butterflies can be seen perusing every garden walkway, fluttering from one flower to the next.

Duo thinks them pretty, but is always more interested in picking the flowers for himself. It often gets his fingers dirty and the servants left to scurry after him would cluck good-naturedly as he wiped the sodden roots off on his clothes. At four years of age, he's taken with making flower crowns lately, handing them off one at a time to anyone who he crosses paths with before threading together another one.

This is part of the reason he spends so much time outdoors now that he is able, though it isn't the only reason; his older brother is also always outside. Solo doesn't care much for the flowers, though he accepts every flower crown or bracelet made for him; instead, he spends his time catching butterflies in his net.

Duo wouldn't have minded the catching part, but after Solo catches one, he spends an inordinate amount of time pinching each one, then slipping it into prepared small envelopes. It is what their father refers to as a 'hobby' of Solo's: his butterfly collection. Duo doesn't quite see the fun in it, but Solo seems happy every time he gets to pin one more butterfly down into the display box.

Solo doesn't let Duo touch or play with his collection. He's been told many times that they were delicate, too brittle to be handled by his small hands, so Duo is ecstatic when Solo calls him over to where he's been putting away his new catches. The envelopes full of dead and dying butterflies were stashed away in a box a servant is carrying out of Duo's reach, but that isn't the reason Solo has called him over in any case; instead, Solo takes a display box carried by another servant, gleaming wood opening under his hand to showcase the assortment hidden inside.

It's four by four, sixteen butterflies altogether in total. They're different sizes, shapes and colors, but each has a single needle thrust through the center of their bodies, their wings spread to better glean their beauty in death. There are no names or numbers, nothing to describe the insects pinned inside like Duo had seen in some of the display cases in their father's study; perhaps this is why his father had described it as Solo's hobby and not as part of his studies.

"Is it pretty?" Solo asks.

Duo nodded in earnest sincerity. He's always liked pretty things, and better yet, dead things liked him most of all. He tentatively reaches out a hand, and when Solo does not step back or bat it away, he lets a finger delicately brush against one brittle wing.

Duo pulled his hand back, thinking of what it must have looked like before it fell under Solo's hand. It's not the largest butterfly in the collection, but it's the one he finds most beautiful: dark blue is encased by an edge of utter ink black, a night sky painted on the edges of a sunlit sky.

"Oh," came Solo's sharp inhale.

Duo froze as the butterfly seemingly trembled, movements halted by the needle still pinning it in place before the wings attempt to move. There's a moment where it almost seems to curl into itself, but then the wings expand - and immediately crumble away, a scattering of black-and-blue dust just as the servant holding the display box drops it with a small yelp.

Duo knows it's his fault somehow. The way the servant falls to the ground, profuse apologies pouring from his lips as he attempts to gather the shattered collection back together with shaking hands, is one thing; the other is that his colleague has not moved in the slightest, eyes locked on the ground and shoulders trembling as if he were too scared to look up. They weren't the only two servants present, but they were the only two Solo had acknowledged since they first stepped out into the garden, so Duo had known they were safe to speak with - unlike the others, who stood or wandered around the floral pathways, accepting his flower crowns that soon withered the moment they left his hand.

He thinks he wants to cry but Solo has teased him before about being a crybaby, so he bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Some of it must have welled up in the corner of his mouth, as Solo leans forward to wipe a red drop away with gentle hands and a click of his tongue.

"It's alright, don't cry," he says soothingly. "I'll get you more butterflies."

-----

Dear Solo,

I know I'm not allowed to touch your butterfly collection anymore, but I really needed to make sure only you saw this!

I do not like my lessons with Professor G.

He makes me talk to the people Dad said I shouldn't talk to while other people are present. I guess I don't mind the stuff we do with the animals, since he lets me keep them around for a bit after I make them move, but then I can't keep them. It's unfair, isn't it?

Can you ask Dad to make him stop these lessons? Please?

Your favorite (and only) brother,

Duo

-----

The hunt at Duke Noin's had been a disaster.

At least, that's how Duo's father had taken it, given the consternated look on his face and the way his eyes refused to look too long in Duo's direction. He always gets like this when he thinks Duo is the source of the issue, and to his father, Duo is always the issue; it didn't matter that Emily Klein was lying through her teeth about her promiscuous brother, and Alexander Vince was too smug for someone whose only skill was bullying servants. If they didn't want to be taken down a peg or three, then they should have shut up and cowered in their seats like their victims.

Duo's father never saw it that way though. He just kept asking how Duo knew, and when Duo was honest and told him, he only got frustrated and sent him back down to Professor G. Duo hated that more than anything, but if he wasn't honest, Solo knew and then he'd be dragged down to Professor G anyway.

Miracle of miracles, however, Professor G was out on a trip and wasn't expected to return for another week. As Duo grew, the lessons had increased in intensity until he'd finally met that threshold G seemed so intent on; only then had he been allowed more freedom as the lessons decreased in frequency. This allowed Duo to finally debut in the court, a full two years after his peers, and already with the dandy title ascribed to him.

Duo didn't mind the title, didn't mind what it meant for his future. It could be annoying at times, such as today during the Hunt, where that title made the boys in the woods initially sneer and dismiss him. It hadn't been so bad with Heero Yuy, even if he had followed Duo further into the woods just because of it, but at least his company was entertaining because he cared and responded to what Duo said or did.

In some ways, the Yuy heir reminded him of Relena. Not because of their status as common-born - or perceived common-born, in Yuy's case - but because of the way they listened to him. Not to say they were obedient, as Duke Darlian's head was definitely graying faster than expected because of his adopted daughter, but because they listened and argued and snarked back at Duo like he was a person.

It was so different from the estate servants, who agreed with nearly everything Duo said and looked askance when he did something expressly forbidden. They were different from Helena, who indulged him in all the ways it didn't matter; different from his father, who hardly seemed to listen, or Solo, who listened perhaps too readily. Hilde was the closest, but she- well.

Pushing open the bedroom door, Duo stood between the threshold with only momentary hesitance. Solo's words from earlier echoed in his ears, as gently cruel as anything his brother did, and guilt twisted up once more in the pit of Duo's gut. He took that first step in, then another, until he slowly made his way into the room and towards the large, four-poster bed stripped of hangings and sheets.

Duo knew he was in the wrong. He'd promised, after all - but when had promises mattered? His family had broken every one to him, and now Duo couldn't shake the chill from his skin and played pretend every day he woke up.

"My baby," his mother cooed from the bed.

Her garments were stained dark, an echo of the blood that had drenched her and the sheets from where she had given him life as he took her's. When others looked, Duo knew they could not see the stains on the bedcovers, because he'd once let slip what he saw to Helena and then his father had dragged him from his bed and to the basement.

His mother is unaware. She always is, because she isn't really quite there; her words and movements repeated, as if he were reading the same part of her story over and over. She would call to him just the same, though sometimes if he thought about it hard enough, she would tell him more than just her final words.

His father hadn't liked that he could still see her. He was adamant that she needed to walk on the path, and just as adamant that the reason she couldn't was because of Duo. The worst part was that he was right, because Duo had wanted his mother and been denied her since the moment of his birth, and that had pinned her to her deathbed as surely as the butterflies in Solo's collection.

Duo took a seat at the edge of the bed in silence.

"I love you," his mother said, unmoving. "It's okay. It will be okay..."

-----

Dear Solo,

You were right - Otto was at the party this time as well. His words were effusive as always, and showed the same lack of originality. Does he think I won't notice that I'm being described like a particularly attractive lamp?

I saw Heero Yuy again. It looks like he still hasn't been able to make any friends. He didn't bother to dance at all at the party, though you'd think he wouldn't care with that expression on his face! I would have asked him myself but I didn't want to subject the poor guy to my poor waltzing skills. I think I caught his eye a few times, I wonder if he still remembers me from the Noins' hunting party?

Tell Father not to worry about my conduct this time around. I stayed nice and pretty throughout the entire party, and according to Nate, drank my weight in tea. It's a simple game I made up myself: any time someone says something stupid or obnoxious, I take a sip of tea so that I don't say something that makes Dad anxious. It's going splendidly.

Also, stop sending me dresses. Helena's starting to get this look on her face that means she doesn't know what to do with every roll of silk you are somehow procuring, and the last one had blood on it! Fashion changes faster here in the Capital too, at least according to Helena, and my etiquette teacher said that I'd need to stay on top of fashion so as to not "shame my future husband."

Since it's my husband, then he shouldn't care what I wear! I could wear a leopard-print suit and he still better think I'm the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen!

With care,

Duo

-----

-----

It happened fast; one moment, Helena is drinking her tea as Duo is recounting his earlier tutoring session with his new etiquette teacher - and the next, Helena heaves out a mouthful of blood and foam. Duo doesn't really remember the immediate moments afterward; it's a mix of terror and panic, servants rushing to and fro as Helena is carried to a nearby bedchamber and the doctor is called.

At some point in the intervening hour, his father and Solo appeared, and Duo is forced out of the room. He doesn't leave the hall just outside of it though, ignoring the demure questions from the staff and eyes focused on the door. Solo soon steps outside the room to join him - or, more likely, to ensure he wouldn't force his way back in.

The time between when Solo joins him and the door next opens seemed to stretch on for years, and Duo feels the chill pooling at the nape of his neck. His eyes only leave the door to stare at his hands; the cuffs of his blouse are stained with drops of Helena's blood, and Duo thinks they almost burn against his skin.

When the door opens and Duo sees the look on his Father's face, terror he has never felt before numbs him to his fingertips. His name - said with care and concern - comes from his Father's mouth, but Duo doesn't really hear it; he pushes past the man and dodges the hand that immediately tries to catch him, and then he's in the room.

Helena is standing beside the bed, looking out the window.

Relief is swift and fleeting, because then she turns with the same placid expression he's seen on so many others. He can't say anything, can't even move even as his father grabs him by the arm; he can only watch as Helena smiles at him as she passes him by, walking through Solo's body on her way out the door. She will not get far; the architecture of the state is deliberate, meant to keep the ghosts who tread through its insides until the time the family head releases them.

Duo's eyes find her body still on the bed, lips crusted with blood, eyes pulled closed by the doctor still standing on the other side. She is pale and blue in pallor, stiff and cold in death; her waxen blond hair is pulled to the side, a mess of tangles from her desperate attempt to stay alive for him.

Duo wants her to move, wants her to stand up and chide him for misbehaving. His father doesn't want him in the room, and he's directly defying that - so she needs to get up and admonish him, in that indulgent way that means she still loves him even when he doesn't do as he's told. Then she can urge the kitchen to make him his favorite snacks and sneak a few desserts for herself, talk to him about his plans for tomorrow or what she's planning to buy at the market later that week.

Helena stirs atop the sheets, but unlike before, hope does not stir in Duo's chest - instead, it is dread. He knows enough now to realize what it means when the ghost begins their journey, when they walk away from the shell of their mortal form - and he knows enough from what he's done in the basement to understand what's happening when her glazed eyes open.

Helena's body sits up in the bed, legs swinging down to the floor as she makes to stand. Her movements are swift and agile, as smooth as she had been in life; but this is just the shell, so she doesn't react to the doctor's scream, doesn't react to the way his father and Solo freeze, or the way Duo's heart crumples in his chest.

Helena's body drops like a lifeless doll onto the carpeted floor, because that's what she is- that's what Duo had made her.

"I didn't mean to," Duo croaked out, ears ringing, skin so cold it felt like winter. "I didn't mean to..."

Solo tries to reach out to him, but Duo yanks his arm from his father's slack grip and bolts.

Helena can't be dead, can't be made another skeleton to add to Duo's collection in the basement.

He'll make sure of it...

-----

Solo,

If you and Father do not want me around anymore, that doesn't mean you have to get rid of me like this. Send me to the barbarian territories, send me to Lagrange, give me some forgotten corner of the Maxwell territory - but don't lock me up again and tell me it's for my well-being.

Heero Yuy? We've spoken just the once, and then he couldn't be bothered to speak to me again. Do you think I care that he's noble-born, or that he's easy on the eyes? I've seen the way he looks at my friends, at the other dandies and ladies; we're like bugs on a rotting carcass to him. Just like Otto and Noin, he thinks just because he can wield a sword, he knows all there is to know about this world.

Did you convince Relena too? She doesn't like him - I know she doesn't like him, I can see it in her face - but she won't say a word against him. She says that he's loyal, that he's devoted - but what does that matter? Did Duke Yuy's devotion to Heero's mother save her?

I don't know why I'm bothering to write to you.

Just pick off my wings and be done with it.

Duo

-----

There's a lot of gossip about the First Night. The stories traded between bosom buddies paint it as something more romantic, though as they grew older, expectations inevitably were filtered through the reality of it: most marriages between the aristocracy were done out of duty or necessity, so the First Night was more an obligation.

Duo had been lectured about it - in a roundabout way - by his etiquette teacher, especially leading up to the wedding day. He hadn't made anything easy, after all, even after being engaged and then forced into Duchess lessons as mandated by Duke Yuy. The man had not been impressed by Duo's sullen expression as he was married into the family, but Duo could care less for the opinion of a man who thought every lady and dandy a pet more than a person.

Still, Duo followed along with the traditions, no matter how bitter he was about it. He'd signed the marriage contract, he forced out the words binding him for life to Heero Yuy, and then he'd followed his new servants into the bathing chambers. He didn't complain even as they washed and groomed him to the point of pretentiousness for his First Night, didn't refuse to wear the decadent lingerie made specifically for such a night. He then poured himself some wine as the servants excused themselves, taking generous swallows of the bitter red as he counted down the minutes.

The First Night was tradition, was what marked the start of their married life. Heero did not seem particularly interested so Duo had learned as much as he could about how intercourse would work between them, had specifically requested (ordered) the oils that would be used to ensure he wouldn't be hurt any more than he already was. Even if it was only once for consummation purposes, Duo would be ready to fulfill his end of it.

The first hour ticked by, and Duo worried about how much preparation was needed for Heero's end of things.

By the end of the third hour, Duo had drained three cups of wine and perched at the edge of the bed.

By the end of the fifth hour, Duo had upturned the table holding the wine and then crawled under the sheets.

He woke up just after the sun rose, alone in bed and with ghosts whispering in his ear about how he'd failed.

-----

You told me Hilde was dead.

I guess that would have been better.

-----

It's true what they say about the First Night - it does set the tone for their marriage. Heero is gone more often than he is not; he is either on the battlefield or in the duchy, the latter of which Duo has still not been able to see because the late Duke had refused to take him and Heero seems to think it's easier to keep him locked away in the Capital estate.

The servants are fickle things, alternating between passive-aggressive obedience and outright negligence. In the first few months after their marriage, Duo had never felt more isolated; the servants took every chance they could to avoid complying with him, Heero's aides avoided him when possible, and even the butler Tubarov had a tendency to talk down to him. The food was cold or bitter, the beer too pungent for his taste, and the maids continued to titter over Heero's lack of interest in him which had been made all the clearer after the failed First Night.

With Hilde, it's almost more bearable, but looking at her frustrates him anew. She feigns contempt with her every shrewd look, but Duo can see the obsession in the way she moves, in the way she trails his every step and nods at his every order. She frightens the maids and confuses Tubarov, but her place as Duo's shadow means that she avoids every possible altercation because she was only meant to end the fights he starts.

Duo takes his meals in his rooms to better avoid the way Chang Wufei glares at him or Quatre Winner pities him, so he's alone with only Hilde and his guard for the night, Asahi. Asahi's presence would be easier to stomach, except the shape of his brow and cheekbones are too alike to his Aunt Helena's that sometimes Duo can't stand to look at him.

What lights the match and starts the blaze is not the way Tubarov looks at Duo, both lustful and condescending, even as he sends discrete correspondence to the likes of Otto and the Crown Prince; it's not the way Heero stalks into his study and tells him he's leaving again, to places as far away from Duo as he could manage; it's not the way the maids "forget" to clean his rooms, who whisper about how he couldn't even satisfy their common-born master-- no, what starts it is the dead spider in his dinner.

It's soaked in the broth of the stew, noticeable among the meat and vegetables, spindly legs soggy and aloft. Duo stares at it for a long moment, watches as it flinches back into animation, slowly hobbling its way out of his bowl. Neither Hilde nor Asahi say anything, careful and still, even as Duo slams a fist down as soon as the spider is clear of the dishes. It dies again, wet and crumbled, under his hand.

He wipes it off with a napkin, still staring into his stew. "...It looks like there's an infestation," he says. There's not; the ghosts have already told him that Celia is the one who mixed the dead spider in, under the giggling and knowing eyes of the cooks and maidservants. "Throw out the food."

"Yes, Your Grace," Hilde obediently responds, already moving to take away the plate.

Duo stops her with a hand on her wrist. "No," he states, clearly and icily, making sure to look her in the eyes until he sees the flicker of violet. "Throw out all of the food. Every crumb and crust in the kitchens, in the servant rooms, in the Duke's study."

Why should he be the only one swallowing every bitter bite?

-----

Solo,

I don't know how Hilde gets these letters to you, but I want you to know that I throw away every gift you try to pass along through her. Are you upset because you can no longer hide them away in my bedroom like you used to? How funny. If you want to give me a gift, you'll have to lower yourself to handing it to me in person yourself.

As for your question - as always, I am under no obligation to answer you. I am the Duchess of Yuy now, after you and Father married me off - I'm no longer yours to demand answers from, not that Father ever wanted to hear them even when he was the one who asked.

Otto is not dangerous by himself; what makes him dangerous is the Prince. As you are the one who continues to poke at the one who could actually do harm, maybe you should apply that warning to yourself.

Duo

-----

Duo had never been more grateful for the open road. The journey itself would be longer - nearly a month, according to Hilde, who had been told as such by Heero - but it would take him out of the Capital for the first time in a long while. Travel wasn't always the easiest, as he would spend much of the trip in the carriage with Hilde, but he could stretch his legs during their breaks or explore the little towns dotting their way to the Yuy provincial capital.

This also got him away from the servants of the Capital estate. After he'd thrown out all the food and forcibly changed the entire menu to dishes he knew Heero to despise, the employees had been subjected to the same undesirable selection. He'd also been able to get Heero to verbally agree in front of the servants that Duo had the right to manage the staffing of the estate, which allowed him more leeway in handling their more daring behaviors.

Two maids and a butler had been fired within a week for speaking too openly about his private affairs, and he'd had Hilde throw one into the holding cells in the basement for stealing from his private fund. The servant's defense - that he needed money to pay for his sick sister's medication - only touched Master Winner's tender heart, but Duo knew that no matter how much the man may care for his sister, the stolen money was going to the gambling debt he still held.

Needless to say, Duo was hardly popular at the Capital estate, but they'd quickly learned not to be so open about it lest he escalate the situation for them.

The journey to the provincial Capital felt like a well-deserved break, and had the extra bonus of only having knights present alongside Heero and his aides. Asahi still maintained his position as part of his escort, though he sometimes rotated shifts with another Yuy knight, Sir Mikhail. Hilde was the only attendant he had or needed, which allowed him some measure of privacy.

It had been disheartening to see that Heero still had no desire to be near him, presenting him with his own personal tent; it was custom for married couples in Sanc to share a tent while traveling. On one hand, this allowed him some time away from others so he didn't have to follow dandy etiquette as ardently as they expected; but on the other, it hurt somewhat, that his own husband couldn't stand being in his presence longer than the wick of a burning candle.

The humiliation had simmered to a more mild pain by this point, and with the open road and fleeting glimpses of ghosts who cared little about him, Duo felt at peace for the first time in a long while. Heero may be avoidant, but at least he was nearby this time around; Hilde may be a liar, but at least she responded to his every word.

It's this state of near-contentedness that blinds him. He was happy with the way he could walk about until a knight was forced to fetch him, he could trust that the food was going to be both tasty and edible, he could reach out and touch Heero if he really wanted. It was probably the closest to happiness he would ever get.

Then Commander Barton opens his mouth. "Perhaps the Duchess should retire to his tent? The meal can be brought to you once it is ready."

Duo's hovering over one of the knights tasked with making tonight's dinner; he'd just been curious to see what he used to flavor the stew, since he'd heard from a passing ghost that some herbs and spices grew only within the Yuy territory. He hadn't thought much of the way the knight seemed to shrink into himself as he watched, because he'd gotten used to the cowering posturing of the Capital servants.

Commander Barton clearly took issue with that, as he did with most things that came to Duo. Duo knows it's because the other man is concerned for his knight, is irritated that the man he swore fealty to had been married to Duo. Just like Heero, Trowa Barton is another man that learned to kill people with a blade and assumed he knew more about the world than those around him.

Irritation turned to ire, the fury that sat ever-waiting under Duo's skin already chomping on the prospect of being able to do something. Duo did not want to be here, just as much as Barton did not want him here - so why did he have to just accept this passive-aggressive mocking? Barton got to spend all the time he wanted with Heero, so he thought he could speak to the man's husband any way he wanted?

Tell me, Duo thought, pulling at everything within himself. The shadows pooled at Barton's feet shuddered, and then small fingers emerged from over the man's shoulders as the face of a young girl peeked out. She's a small thing, with blood leaking from the corners of her mouth that are crusted over with foam. Middie Une, mercenary camp, poison - the information comes with the same chilling understanding as every call on the dead does.

"I prefer to watch how my meal is cooked," Duo stated, voice cold. "You can't always trust the people who make your food, can you, Commander?"

Barton's eyebrow raise a small amount, the closest expression Duo had ever seen to surprise on the other man's face. "I did not mean anything untoward, Your Grace," he said. To his credit, he didn't grind the words out, but that may be because he did not respect Duo enough to care about his insinuations.

Duo sees Heero emerge from his tent nearby, and the sticky tar of his emotions turns into something sharp and deadly. It only figured that Heero's interest was perked not by Duo, but by his Commander. Heero would only step in when he thought Duo stepped out of line, a fair imitation of his father. "I don't think you really mean anything, Barton," Duo allowed venomously. "Isn't that why you pieced together a name from scraps?"

Barton stares at him with a look that could have flayed flesh from bone. It's apt, because that's how many of the mercenary troops he'd run with had died; ripped to shreds as Barton watched on, unperturbed and vindictive.

"Duo." Then Heero is there, stepping up beside him, close enough that Duo can actually feel his body heat for the first time in weeks. It's somehow more infuriating than even the derogatory look on Barton's face, or the wary expressions of the knights; just knowing that Heero only chose to intervene when his precious Commander was being bothered.

Winner was by Barton's side, one hand on his lover's arm, quietly saying something that shouldn't have been audible to the ears of the living. Middie Une's ghost echoed the blonde's words in fragments, soothing assurances meant to de-escalate when Duo only wanted to see blood.

There's a hesitant touch on his arm that sears every nerve-ending in his body. Duo smacks Heero's hand away in a move that stings his hand more than Heero's, though the man's face is as blank as ever.

"Don't touch me," Duo snapped out.

Heero doesn't respond, just looks at him with those same disinterested eyes, and Duo turns away to stalk back to his tent.

In the end, Barton does get what he wants: Duo back in his tent, cut off from the rest so he can't subject them to his very presence anymore. He destroys his Death's Door that night and leaves Hilde to dispose of the remains, ignores the bowl of stew Asahi had passed along from Heero, and curls up alone in his makeshift cot.

He stays in his carriage or his tent for the remainder of the journey, and seethes.

-----

Solo,

Helena told me a story once, about a boy who made a wish. He didn't worship Peacemillion, or the Harvester, or the many other gods of the continent; he worshipped a deity that lived in the dead trunk of a tree. He left it food and gifts daily, and made the same wish every day.

The story never says what his wish is, though. It does describe how poor he is, how sick his ailing mother is, how cruel the local magistrate is, how petty his master is. The boy has no friends, and eventually, no family as his mother passes away. He's alone - and yet he still leaves gifts to the tree stump, still makes a wish.

He's stupid, isn't he? Living the same miserable life, praying to something that even if it's there, doesn't care to hear him?

The story ends with the stump turning into a tree overnight, golden blossoms falling in limitless wealth. The boy hangs himself on the branches the same day.

No. I will not send you this letter.

I don't think I can stomach your responses anymore.

Duo

-----

Hilde didn't often ask him questions. This was not because she didn't have them, nor because she did not care; this was because she had just as many secrets as he did, only she wanted to share her's even less. Even then, there were times Hilde felt compelled to ask, to question him, because she'd sensed something in the way his words cut or the way his gaze faltered. Unlike his absent husband, unlike the timid servants, unlike the belligerent aides to the Duke - Hilde knew enough about him to push.

"What did you and Lady Relena speak about?"

Duo knows why she wants to know. Hilde doesn't much care for Relena; she doesn't dislike her, but Hilde treats Relena the same way his brother does - as an accessory to him. To both Hilde and Solo, the people Duo surrounds himself with are decorations, not really human except for what Duo pulls from them. It makes them eerily alike at times, though he knows Hilde would hate the comparison.

"What do you and my brother speak about?" Duo returns without heat.

Hilde doesn't answer. It's not loyalty that stays her tongue, because there isn't a single piece of Hilde left that doesn't belong to Duo. This means that what keeps her quiet is something about Duo, and sharing that knowledge would only cause him harm. Duo hates that he knows that, hates that Hilde's loyalty was bled into her, hates that he can't stand to talk to his own brother anymore without being hurt by it.

Duo opens the small box he keeps atop the table. The greenhouse is not as warm as it usually is, though he'd be hard-pressed to find it warm at any time given the chill in his skin. The little box is full of beads, made from the dead flowers he'd offered at his altar and his own blood. The result is a brittle twin to what Hilde had taken before, and he thinks it's funny in that awful way his life usually is that she doesn't take them now.

"Did Heero send a letter yet?" Duo asks, closing the box once more.

There's a pause before Hilde's reply; she knows again that it will hurt. "...Yes. Howard received a reply to his report yesterday."

Heero doesn't send him letters, so Duo doesn't send him any either. Sometimes he will send gifts, but Duo hates gifts delivered by anyone but the gifter, so he throws those away too. Heero will raise his budget but refuse to stay any longer than necessary in the same residence, so Duo wastes that money on things that don't matter and then uses more of it on things that do. This petty dynamic has been the only thing keeping Duo afloat until now, but as time passes, the more he has begun to realize how little it all matters.

He can almost see, then, what Relena has been working so desperately to avoid. The end that she'd seen in her visions is one he can see now, even if it's one she has been avoiding explaining to him. Just like Hilde, Relena was also wary of saying anything that may hurt him - even when that hurt may be what he needed to grow into something better than he is now.

Duo sometimes wants to ask them, what am I to you? It's a question he'd wanted to ask his father and his brother, something he'd wanted to ask Heero the moment they were engaged and in the time since. It's a question that he needs to hear the answer to in order to live, but one he dreads all the same. Sometimes, he thinks he already knows the answer.

To Helena, he had been everything. To Heero, he is nothing.

He will not ask them; he is not brave enough to dare.

But there is one being he can ask.

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Solo,

If I'm still here tomorrow

Say a prayer and make a wish.

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END OF ARC II

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