Shinira heaved a sigh as she flipped through all the channels, making a feeble attempt at comforting herself. Nothing but Relena Peacecraft and all the Gundam Pilots. On every channel. The little demon growled viciously and threw the remote on the already cluttered floor in her frustration. Her eyelids drooped as she hugged her knees to her chest and tried rocking herself to sleep. Something she had not done in days.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Duo shifted his weight from one foot to the other and he rolled his eyes. Relena had been talking for hours and he had been forced to stand behind her, at least pretending to be interested and honored. If they wanted to show their appreciation, they’d let him sleep. His stomach growled, bringing his attention to just how hungry he was and how long it had been since he had eaten a decent meal. The Deathscythe pilot licked his lips as visions of feasts swam through his mind. He slumped over and held his stomach tight, well aware that all the world was watching them.

Quatre poked him in the side, forcing Duo back into the stiff stance he had been in for the last three hours. The God of Death grumbled and shifted his weight again. How much longer? He stole a glance at the other pilots, lined up impressively on either side of him.

Naturally, Heero stood with perfect posture, but Duo knew the prince of all actors was just as bored as he. His Prussian blue eyes, halfway shut were hidden behind wild brown hair. The pools of suffering and hurt were sealed under a flawless glass shell. His back stiff as a board, arms held at his sides and his heels together, Heero look very professional indeed. Duo’s gaze wandered over the Japanese youth’s muscled arms and legs, wonderfully displayed under that skimpy green tank top and the skin-tight spandex shorts. The perfect soldier’s life-long training had definitely paid off. Not to mention the fact that the training had saved the Earth...

Wufei had his arms folded over his chest and his eyes shut in meditation. At least someone was getting something useful done. Well... sort of... The lighting in the room bounced off his slick black hair, pulled back into a tight little ponytail. His nose was at a proud slant and stuck out over his thin lips. Just the way he carried himself was very proud, but behind all the obsession with justice, Wufei had pure intentions. His bold blue tank top displayed the well-worked biceps and was neatly tucked into his bright white pants. Duo couldn’t help but respect the mere look about him--something very often demanded by the Chinese pilot.

Quatre was most likely the only one paying attention to Relena, but only because of his sweet nature, not because it was even remotely interesting. Duo had to admire him, no matter where they were, in the midst of battle or even in the middle of a Relena speech, Quatre always had hope. He never gave up. A smile played over Shinigami’s lips. The most intriguing things about the little Arabian prince were his eyes. They were an icy blue, tinted green. Thick platinum blonde bangs swung gently over the features of his face, framing and enhancing his mystifying eyes. Though his outfit didn’t show it, Quatre, one boy of 29 sisters, also had a strong body. He was shorter than all the other pilots were, but Quatre was strong and it didn’t need to be proven.

Duo’s eyes moved to Trowa, whose own eyes had glazed over. He looked a little drunk. Duo stifled his laughter, but just barely. The braided pilot believed Trowa to have the coolest hair among the group--aside from himself of course. His bangs grew sharply to one side, obscuring one of his emerald eyes. Trowa too, had entrancing eyes. They were narrow and mysterious. Duo often tried to see behind them, but like Heero, Trowa was well guarded. He looked over the acrobat’s body. The tight jeans accented his lithe form and the dark blue, almost black, sweater stretched over his chest showed a strength that came from nothing short of hard, traumatizing training. You would never guess from the delicate way he moved, but Trowa could kick some serious ass.

It was near nightfall when Relena had at last finished her musings and the normally cheery pilot was spent. There was a private celebration for the pilots and anyone who had made a difference in the outcome of the war. This was what truly bothered him about the whole damned war. Each individual soldier deserved to be commended. So many had died and wouldn’t be recognized formally. And too many war orphans had been created because of these people--including the pilots--to be partying. We shouldn’t be celebrating; we should be in mourning. Duo wanted to go home to Shinira. She was probably the only veteran who would feel the same way.

“Well... I’m sure this all going to be a lot of fun, but I’m beat. I’m going home. I’ll catch ya’ll later, Kay?” He plastered his trademark grin on his face and turned to leave.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Heero started when Duo said the word home. He had a home? The word, the whole idea was so alien to the pilots. And all this time, Duo had a home to return to? His eyebrows quirked down in a grimace. The Japanese youth never had a home. Never had a family. Heero shoved his hands into his pockets a little violently and cast his gaze upon the floor and his feet. A home...
Without realizing it, the Wing pilot had wandered outside and into the light of a dying sun. Where would he go? He was so utterly isolated. The other pilots were the only people in his life, but they were still very distant. His missions had engulfed him like a trap and no one had the power to free him of the self-inflicted hell. How would he continue living? Battle and chaos were all he knew. Peace, like home, was unfamiliar to him.

“Hey, buddy!” Heero snapped back into reality at a familiar voice. Familiarity. Family. Content. Comfort. All rolled into two words. Duo had not left yet. “Why you out here? Why ain’t you in there with everyone else?” Out of nothing more than habit, Heero shot his death glare at the American youth.

“Celebrations don’t suit me.” He replied flatly. A wave of annoyance flowed through him when Duo continued to grin like an idiot. His smiles were always so sincere. In battle, the gentle smile that always complimented his face was taken for granted and now he realized just how accustomed to it he had grown. How strange it would be to turn around and not see Duo’s smirk. Heero never could figure out why he was so happy all the time.

He has a home...

Heero cursed himself inwardly for letting his mind slip. It explained a lot to know how Duo had survived. The bright American boy was the closest Heero had to a friend and his comfortable portrayal of emotions made it all the more easier for Heero to feel secure around him.

“Awwww.... Come on. The war’s over. You should be happy! We’re free to do whatever!” He slung a casual arm around Heero’s shoulders. The Wing pilot tensed up as he did this, but either Duo pretended not to notice, or he hadn‘t noticed at all. Heero took in a deep breath. If there was anyone he could talk to, it was Duo.

“I don’t deserve happiness. I shouldn’t be celebrating. I’ve killed too many. The price of peace is too high. No matter what anyone thinks, the war has only begun.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Duo was a little shocked at Heero’s comment; mostly because the silent pilot never spoke more than four words at a time. Unless it regarded a mission. He was also surprised to hear Heero speak Duo’s own personal opinions. He had to give him credit for being sympathetically rational.

“Yea, I hear ya brother.” Maybe it would do Heero some good to meet his little sister, Shinira. Well... technically she wasn’t his sister, but he liked to think of her like that. She would welcome him with open arms. Just the kind of thing Heero needed--according to Duo, at least. “Hey! If you don’t want to stick around here, why don’t you come home with me! I’m sure Shinira won’t mind!” It became harder and harder for Duo to keep up his positive appearance the longer it took Heero to reply.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was a nice offer, but was it really what Heero needed? Duo could be annoying sometimes, but he was also the only person, aside from the other pilots, who knew Heero was human. The idea of sharing a home with his best friend was just too good to be true. He was already living with someone named ‘Shinira.’

Home...

Heero’s decision was made. Never before had just one person scared him. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to pass up a chance like this for one person. The mission came first. But now, there were no more missions, so Heero came first. And what Heero needed was a home. A family. Happiness.

“All right...” The perfect soldier was careful to keep his voice as monotonous as it had always been, despite the excitement coursing through his body. Maybe the war had been worth fighting after all... maybe...