Chapter 3
Hopping around on one foot, he held his breath for he knew if someone dropped one more brick on his feet, somebody would pay dearly. Workers gathered around him, eyeing him sternly, watching to see what this new servant could do next. First, he was able to repair the water piping system, which in itself was at least a full day’s work for one man alone. However, he effortlessly welded, bent pipes, and all out made several major improvements within a handful of hours. Secondly, after taking a small break, began applying mortar much more efficiently than the team that was originally assigned to do the construction of a new bathhouse. Unfortunately, leading to thirdly, the brick-boy was very clumsy and dropped several heavy bricks on his feet, yet he only began to cringe after the seventh or so. With every brick later, the boy’s life span grew shorter and shorter as the miraculous young man’s patience grew thinner.
He cursed to himself, knowing he would soon lose any restraint he had in keeping his wits about him. That previous morning, he awoke in a dumpster in an unfamiliar town, drenched in sweat and remnants of an alcoholic escapade he was sure he never participated in. Discovered by curious onlookers, was dragged away and chained up along with several other young men such as himself. Still, in a drunken haze, he easily complied, assuming he was taken hostage by some new guerilla faction formed late in the war. Although he could feel the wind, or were it actual whips, he could only guess, slashing at his body mercilessly, the sounds of men howling in pain, he stood silent. The desire to fight, or even defend himself had subsided to an undiscovered corner in his psyche that he had yet to recover, the sights and smells of torture invaded his sense, making him ill, or was it simply the effects one feels when waking after binge-drinking, he was sure he feel asleep… “Duo, what did you do to me?” he growled to himself.
His chains were yanked, he stumbled and took a few steps, watching his feet move, but realizing, he wasn’t the one moving them, he could not control himself, he screamed, his voice never left his mouth. Never in his life had he panicked, and now, he was terrified, the unseen force led him for a long journey across a desert, he was certain he had never seen. By the time the trek came to it’s end, he regained control of himself, and realized that he was not alone, surprised he hadn’t noticed earlier how different the young man in front of him was to everyone else around them. All the men were draped in heavy garments, naturally accustomed to the climate, and their faces were dark and skin leathery, the one in front of him went along with his torso bare, a flimsy whitish-pink thing on his head perhaps a make-shift hat out his shirt, and his skin was a creamy white that took the beating of the winds and sands harshly. He recognized who that body belonged to once he realized that it was the in front of him during the entire crusade, the body he had once almost fallen victim to desire, much like another ally of his. The gentleness of the body radiated, and the purity could be unmatched, undeserving he found himself, and yet knew he could never lure the sweet creature from someone whom he had great respect for. If anything, at that very moment in time, he would protect the cherub, and return him to where he should be, unselfishly.
Glaring into the eyes of a man who had just purchased his friend, he implored almost desperately to be bought also, not wanting to leave the blonde alone and be harmed. The man sought interest in him, noting how physically and mentally alert this young one was, and could have the potential on serving him well. Their eyes locked one last time as the man ushered the smaller figure away, soon after, a voice hailed him, and was led in the same direction as the previous two have gone.
He growled at the curious brick-boy, it seemed the younger one was waiting for any violent reaction possible, a hand reached out to him slowly, passing him another brick. He opened his own carefully, to insure it wouldn’t fall on his foot again, and yet, the boy let go of the brick too soon, it tumbled and landed painfully on his tender toes. It was safe to say the Japanese youth has had enough. He cursed aloud, as much to make any sailor blush, grabbing the attention of all the occupants of the courtyard, he gripped his fist around the boy’s neck, determined to make the incompetent child pay for the pain. All activities dropped suit, and followed to stare inquisitively at the scene, a faint bustling rung in the air, a swift motion passed along the trails leading from the garden to where he was standing with the writhing youth in his firm grasp.
A gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder, his eyes never leaving those of the boy’s, “What?” he spat. “Relax Heero, Quatre is watching, and so is the master. From what I can tell, if Quatre is upset, so is the master, relax.” Hearing the voice from behind, he released the poor child and inhaled inhumanly deep. He turned to face, nodding, a yes or maybe a hello, the taller man, who spoke, raised the corner of his mouth in a half smile.
“How long have you been here?”
“Where exactly?”
“Here in this… palace.”
“This isn’t a palace. It’s a vast estate of sorts. I was bought yesterday in an auction, like Quatre.”
“How did we get here?”
“I don’t know. In fact I don’t know much of what happened. I woke up in a dumpster yesterday morning and brought here.”
“Hm, I woke up here this morning. I thought I was still in bed with… Well, I, see that window over there? That’s my room.”
“It looks like it’s across the hall from mine.”
“How long are we supposed to be working?”
“From what I can tell, we are done at dinner time, after that, we are free to do as we please.”
“How is Quatre doing?”
“He’s doing well, the master really likes him but I can’t tell you what his position around here is. Trowa, are you planning something?”
“If I knew where Quatre was staying, we could regroup after-hours in one of our rooms and exchange information about this place and why we are here you know? And hopefully we can find were the others are.”
“Others?”
“I was told there are six of us that don’t have black hair, and one is a girl, we were all purchased within the last twenty-four hours or so.”
“A girl? Probably Releena, like I need her here too.”
“It’s just a matter of finding them. This place is very odd, I think Duo would probably be the easiest to find next, he would stand out here more than Quatre.”
“You’re right, I’ll meet you in your room after dinner.”
They nodded in unison, and parted, each returning to his own duty, that was neglected for a short time, trying the master’s as well as many others’ patience. The wing pilot stood silently as he watched his friend’s retreating form travel confidently toward the garden, notably the roses. A tug at his pant leg drew the awareness that he had matters to tend to, such as apologizing to the boy, whom he threatened death upon. He raised a hand to strike him, yet, reached up to grab the bucket of mortar hanging from a hook and left to refill it. The child stood dumbfounded, shrugged his shoulders, and scurried off to help some other worker in need of a brick-boy.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Heero turned the faucet knob, filled the bucket a quarter from the bottom, and soaked a rag that was hanging from a rear pocket with water to cool his forehead. Not noticing how much time had passed, or how empty his stomach had become, the dinner bells rang like a chorus to a deaf man who could now hear. He dropped the bucket with a hearty thud and ran toward the bells, his stomach grumbled loudly in anticipation, his mouth watered, eagerly tasting food he could only imagine that would be served, but mostly, he was most awaiting seeing any of the other pilots rumored to be around. Although he preferred fighting his battles alone, since learning of the pilots’ existence, he almost enjoyed knowing he wasn’t alone, and also knowing that they were in the same predicament, they could place the pieces of this bizarre puzzle together.
Kicking up tiny stones that lay in the path, he stood impatiently in a rather large line up of men waiting to retrieve their food after a long day of working. He could spot farther down the line behind him, a few large strands of brown hair just above many men’s heads, and wondered whether or not there were seating arrangements already, hoping that perhaps he could sit with Trowa and they could discuss each others’ findings. The line in front of him grew shorter and he could smell the food’s aroma dancing around the cafeteria to the hall where he was now waiting. Oddly enough, from his experience, dinner line-ups were never so silent, and yet, not a single word was whispered between any of the men, and also, he could not hear any chatter emanating from the cafeteria either. With it being a prime time to discuss one’s daily activities, or to just plain socialize amongst others, the silence reeked of eeriness. Just as the silence was starting to make his spine crawl with unease, a slight chatter drew his attention a little father up the line, and upon careful calculating the acoustics of the area, he figured the sounds came from the kitchen staff. “Listen here pal, I told you once, I told you a thousand times, I am NOT WEARING A HAIR NET! And that’s final!”