The young blond haired boy picked up his violin, feeling the smooth wood under his fingers, and started playing. He moved his fingers along the strings, losing himself in the haunting melody. Quatre reflected on all the recent events. The war was over now, and he knew this was what they had all wanted.

Peace was in front of them now. Quatre had wanted for so long to go home, to see his sisters again, and to take care of all his unfinished business. His fingers continued to glide across the strings, and Quatre wondered if any of the other pilots could hear his song, if they were even still around.

Duo and Hilde were off celebrating, and they'd dragged Wufei along. As for Heero ... well, no one was ever able to keep track of his location. And Trowa... Trowa was the reason that Quatre felt so uneasy about having to leave. He didn't know what would happen between him and the tall, dark-haired pilot now that the fighting was over. The realization that their paths might never cross again sent Quatre reeling.

The music continued to pour out of his soul. Maybe he was just being selfish... But his heart ached so badly at the thought of leaving such a major part of his life behind. Of leaving Trowa behind. Quatre blinked back tears and squeezed his eyes shut. Trowa had become more to him than he wanted to admit. From the very moment he had walked out of HeavyArms with his hands in the air, his very nature had fascinated Quatre. Over time, he learned Trowa Barton shared his principles about fighting and war.

And Quatre had been in love with him ever since.

And now... Now the war was over, and they all had to go move on. Quatre found he couldn't concentrate anymore and slowly lowered his violin.

"Please, don't stop playing," a soft voice called from behind him. "It was so beautiful." Even before Quatre turned around, he knew who it was.

"Trowa..." the small Arabian pilot murmured, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

"Oh, Quatre..." Trowa whispered, walking closer. "Why are you sad?"

"...you and I... we'll have to go ... back to our own lives." Trowa used his sleeve to wipe away Quatre's tears.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Is that all?!" Quatre retorted, shocked. "We might never see each other again!"

"See, that's where you're wrong, Quatre." Trowa smiled, the rare, gentle smile that Quatre delighted in so much.

"How?" Trowa didn't reply. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Quatre, then pulled away before the boy could respond.

"I know we'll meet again. It would be cruel for fate to keep us apart, Quatre." Quatre looked up into the familiar soft green eyes that were shimmering with tears,

"Oh, Trowa... Aishiteru..."

"Aishiteru, Quatre."

Quatre left Peacemillion later that day, confident he and Trowa would be together again ... someday.

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