Lena: (Sniffles) O-ohayo, minna-san. Boy, that was sad.(blows her nose)

Duo: (stares wordlessly into space) Silence stretches…

Wufei: Aren’t you going to post?

Lena: (sniffling) I guess so. Would you all like me to postor not?

Wufei: (glaring at audience) And be nice.

Quatre: (wide-eyed) Wufei, are you feeling all right?

Wufei: Of course I am! What makes you ask?

Quatre: Well, for one, you’re being pretty nice to her- aren’t you going to scold her for being weak or anything?

Wufei: She’s not doing anything that she shouldn’t be. If she got up and started craving battles in the real world, then I’d be mad with her. But she isn’t, so…

Lena: I was asked to give a (blows her nose and begins weeping bitterly) why? Why the unicorn? Oh, gods, that wasso wrong…

Wufei: (pats her on the back) Here are slightly less confusing definitions of her made-up words, because there were questions about that.

Informela: Shape-shifter
Almatomi: Soul-collector/taker
Almanade: Protector of the new
Buscari: Hunter, generally intended as an insult.
Nochecornio: Unicorn of the night, capable of phasing through objects just as almatomi do. Usually black.

Wufei: I hope that clears things up, and we’ll probably take a break here to allow Lena to regain her composure. MO< Other Boys: O.O; Anou…Wu-kun, are you all right? Wufei: (Glares at them.)

Lena: (wipes a last tear from her eye) That’s okay, I’m feeling all-better now, thanks very much Wufei. I’m posting…

Heero and Quatre burst into the clearing, ready for anything- except for what they saw. Duo was huddled over a dark form that could only be Shinigami, and he was sobbinguncontrollably.

“Oh, no…” Quatre moaned, seeing the arrow that Duo had tossed away. Heero sniffed the air and the wolf features melted away to his human form, revealing a defensive snarl.

“I can smell the Buscari who did it.” He walked cautiously over to Duo and tapped him lightly on the shoulder, receiving no reaction. “Duo,” Quatre blinked, confused by the gentle tone that the informela’s voice had taken on.

Somehow, it had never occurred to him that Heero was capable of being friendly towards the braided boy they had takeninto the fold.

“H-Heero, I-I…I think I should…” Gasping, Duo put his best effort into controlling his erratic breathing, into calming down. “I should…kill…”

“Suicide is no answer,” Heero admonished, taking his friend by the shoulders. “Are you going to be okay?” The wide violet eyes narrowed, seeming to glow with vengeful fires.

“I’m going to kill him.” He threw the confused informela away from him, and into Quatre. Standing, the boy began to speak in a low, dangerous voice.

“Get out of here. Now. I’m going to kill him- slowly, and painfully.” Quatre struggled to stand from beneath the slightly dizzy Heero and would have protested, save that he realized Duo couldn’t hear any voice other than his own now.

The storm raged about them, the rains beginning to sting with the cold, and Duo’s eyes were glowing crazily. Quatre crawled to the edge of the clearing, his shape-shifting friend close behind him, and they held a whispered conference to decide on what they should do.

“What if he hurts himself?” The dark blue eyes bore into his own, and he looked away with a shudder. Heero looked so intent on avenging the unicorn, he might easily have eaten Quatre in one of his larger forms if it meant he could do as he wished.

“The only person who could possibly get hurt is that buscari, believe me. We’re only endangering ourselves by staying here.” He gave a meek nod and allowed the other boy to carry him back to the house in a large, dark, ominous shape, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. A unicorn. How could anyone kill a unicorn?

He ran, gasping hard for breath, bleeding all over as the foliage continued to strike at him, cutting him, punishing him for what he had done. Thoughts ran through his mind too quickly to finish before the new ones came in, and all centered on that dark shape that he had thought was a deer. A unicorn. A unicorn. What have I done?

Feet slipped on a muddy patch free from the hold of grass, a hard old root collided with his head and there was cold blackness for a short while. Only minutes later, green eyes struggled to open as he coughed harshly, spitting blood. The rain made nothing easier; he couldn’t even see a foot in front of his nose, and he was thoroughly soaked- had been for hours. Struggling, he managed to lever himself up, shaking his head several times to clear it of the dizziness he now felt…his head ached, he ached all over, inside himself he ached more terribly than ever before. I have killed one of those purest of creatures; I have ended my life and something so much greater.

Again he stumbled through the forest, a little slower now, breath rasping harshly in his throat, and he felt as raw and spent as if he had spent a night screaming in agony, beating his fists on a wall. His breath made tiny clouds of hazier air in front of him, the rain was turning into hail and the winds were getting worse. Into a clearing- and dread filled him as he realized- this was the same clearing. His eyes locked on the body, and terrified beyond any further coherent thought he ran again from the clearing, dreading a curse that would never let him leave the body behind. He tripped over a boulder and came to a heaving halt before splashing headfirst into a river that swirled thick with the rain. Clutching firmly to the boulder he pushed himself away and turned ever so slightly to the side, launching himself in that direction and not certain whether he was nearing the body or not, but certain that he had to keep moving, had totry to escape.

Maybe he could run away from his mistake. Maybe.

After brushing his dripping hair from his eyes for a moment, he sped his pace slightly, wincing as he came out into slightly less dense foliage and was bombarded harshly by hailstones. They were growing in size, and he turned around once more, heading back for the river- he hoped- to see if he could make the right turn this time, and get away. His clothes were weighing him down, and each step the weight seemed to grow. Slowly, already failing himself, he made his way through the brush and branches, bleeding and bruised and breathing hard. A crash behind him startled him into running forward, as fast as he could- a short burst of energy that left him skidding towards the body of a black unicorn, laid down, slowly dripping blood, holes where its eyes shouldhave been.

Duo pulled the branch until it snapped, and beat around the trees. He almost heard a yelp, or thought he did, and followed it, snarling, into the clearing, expecting to find a monster of a man who brandished a weapon at him and wanted nothing more than to kill a few more innocent creatures before leaving the forest.

What he did find made him drop the heavy branch, confused immensely and slightly concerned for- of all things- the hunter. He watched the other man slip in the mud, landing painfully on his back, and raise a shaking hand to the sky before turning himself over, slowly levering himself up andtrying to stand. He watched the buscari slip again and watched him carefully avoid putting any further strain on his left foot. And watched him crawl over to the corpse that had been Shinigaminot too long before.

At that point, the enraged, slightly crazed almatomi would have charged forward and knocked the man unconscious, if it had not been for what the hunter did next. He fell forward over the body, and began weeping bitterly; his body was wracked with sobs and shivers form the cold. Duo noticed suddenly that the man was not only grieving for what he had done, he was allowing himself to be mercilessly attacked by the hailstones, which were coming down very thickly now. Something within him stirred…something akin to pity…

“I forgive you,” He whispered, feeling remorse at having punished the man so much already. The feeling of the active curse melted away, at about the same rate his unchecked anger was ebbing from him. More than anything now, he wanted to know why it had been done- had there been a reason, or had it been an accident? And he wanted to make sure that if the hunter did pay, he paid fairly, and not the price that a grief-stricken man would levy from him. Still, he only watched the hunter, convulsing violently, until the sobbing slowed a bit, and it looked like the other had fallen preyto unconsciousness.

Then, he stepped forward and gathered the wiry body in his arms, carrying the hunter away at a slow, thoughtful pace. His eyes were kept forward, not really seeing the terrain but something far away, wherever his thoughts hid. By the time they reached the house, it was sunrise, and Duo was so tired he didn’t even realize that his arms felt like lead.

The clouds began to clear away under the intensity ofsunlight. When Duo awoke, it was to the confusing sight of a wearily smiling Quatre.

“Q-quatre? I don’t think you’ve ever been home when I woke up before…” The blond gave a short laugh and replied,

“That’s because you’ve never been sick before. Are you feeling all right?” The violet eyes darkened with remembered grief.

“I guess this is what all right will feel like from now on. I-“ He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a smile, unconvincing as it was. “I just hope he’ll be okay, wherever he went.” The blond clasped his shoulder tightly, smiling in spite of the tears that brimmed in his eyes. Duo blinked rapidly and sniffed before forcing his usual cheer to surface, in spite of everything.

“Oh, hell, I bet I’ve got a cold, right?” As if to answer his own question, he had a sneezing fit; he heard Quatre's voice saying something after each sneeze, but couldn’t make it out until the fits was over, and he had some tissue in his hands.

“Thirteen. Quite a fit, Duo.” The almatomi shot him a glare and pointedly blew his nose, honking loudly.

“Nothing compared to yours, I’m sure. Especially since you have twenty-nine sisters; I’ll bet your fits last longer so that every single one of them has to say bless you.” As the blond laughed, he blew his nose again, and after becoming very serious, he changed the subject.

“Where’s the hunter now?” The blond wilted under the intensity of his gaze and turned away, briefly, looking unwilling. “What have you been doing to him?” He insisted, forcing himself up on his elbows and adopting the most imploring look he could. Reluctantly, Quatre muttered something and turned back to him, carefully keeping his gazeon the floor.

“Heero’s been taking care of him.” The other boy stiffened.

“What do you mean, ‘taking care of’? I told you not to kill him!” In his own defense, Quatre looked up and denied having committed that particular offense.

“He isn’t dead, Duo. We kept him alive for you…” His voice trailed off as he realized that Duo wasn’t listening anymore. “What are you doing? Duo, you shouldn’t be getting out of bed!” Noticing the scowl that was in possession of the normally cheerful features, Quatre allowed his sense of protectiveness to subside in favor of assisting Duo in getting whatever he wanted.

“Where is he?” There was a dangerous edge to the baritone voice that Quatre didn’t dare argue with.

“Shinigami’s stall.” After lurching to his feet, suffering temporary nausea, and brushing Quatre’s supporting hands from his shoulders, he stumbled out to the back of the house, looking around for signs of his quarry.

“Heero?” Hearing an unfamiliar whimper from what had been the stall of Shinigami, he stalked resolutely forward and threw the door open to reveal the murderous buscari reduced to a half-naked, bloody, cowering mess. The hunter’s mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to choke away his tears enough to speak. Strangled sounds emerged from his throat, and he mouthed the plea ‘help me.’ Heero turned to Duo looking faintly surprised, but not in the least bit sorryfor what he had done.

Something in his partially fevered mind snapped.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Before either of them knew what was happening, he had Heero pinned against a wall, his hands gripping the other boy’s collar and his face an angry mask. Not in the least bit concerned by his friend’s behavior, the blue eyed boy replied,

“Making him bleed.” A vengeful glimmer flickered in the cobalt depths. “For Shinigami.” For a long moment, Duo couldn’t speak any better than the Hunter had been, lost in unborn tears of grief and something deeper, something thatwas pity.

“No, Heero, he- Shinigami- wouldn’t…wouldn’t have wanted it that way.” He let the cloth of Heero’s shirt slip through his fingers, clenching his teeth and trying very hard not to cry. They both turned to the huddled form on the ground, whose eyes were fixed in wonder on Duo, still shining with tears and now very confused. After flicking briefly to Heero, with something like fear but stronger, the eyes settled again on Duo, waiting expectantly for his next move.

Turning back to Heero, Duo struggled to find the most convincing, authoritative words he could.

“Get out of here, Heero.” He paused briefly, licking his lips as he thought. The informela had started at his words, and now regarded him with puzzled curiosity. “Go back to thehouse.”

“But-“ Duo grabbed him by the collar again and with all the force he could muster, shoved the other boy out of the stall and pointed to the house, lips set in a thin line. Once he was certain Heero got the message, he turned back to the green-eyed hunter, whose expression was one of amazement.

“Come on. I’m taking you inside.” The hunter stared at his outstretched hand as if it were a dead animal and not an offering of assistance. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and firmly clasped Duo’s, allowing the other to pull him up. A gasp of pain escaped him and he gingerly lifted his foot from the ground, giving it a withering look for the pain itwas causing him.

Wordlessly, Duo slung his arm behind the other boy’s shoulders for support and helped him into the house, all the while puzzling what he was doing in his mind. He remembered forgiving the hunter, and carrying him home. Even still, he didn’t understand why he had forgiven the wretched fellow in the first place; Shinigami had been killed, and he wanted for someone to pay. But…not the hunter? Not the one who had killed his best friend and only true family? Why not?

“You don’t talk much, do you?” The hunter shot him a pained look, which he rewarded with a sympathetic smile. “Don’t even try to answer that. Come on, first thing I’ll get a nice warm bath ready for you, and while you’re taking care of that, I’ll make the bed as comfy as I can. Sound good?” The confusion in the eyes was enough to make him laugh- only a little bit, but it wasn’t forced. It wasn’t happy either, and that detail didn’t slip from either one’s mind.

Once he’d deposited the wiry hunter in a chair that he knew wouldn’t be much trouble to clean, he whisked himself away to the bathroom, drawing warm water and being as careful as possible to not make it too hot. He wasn’t blind, and those scratches were bound to hurt even in the friendliest of temperatures. Satisfied, he returned to the chair and helped the green-eyed mess hobble into the room, closing the door behind him and explaining that he’d be at beck and call, but only if he heard a call.

Silence met him, and not in the least bit miffed he went to the bedroom, proceeding to change the sheets and fluff the pillows and do all manner of unnecessary, time-consuming things. Again, his thoughts began to wander as the work slowed and was done. How could he possibly feel pity for someone so vile as the buscari who had killed his Shinigami? It was a foreign concept to him; he often felt pity, for the frightened people who actually saw him moments before he took their souls, and for Quatre and Heero when they wondered what it was like to be able to communicate with a unicorn. Never for people who had done terrible things, and most certainly not for people who had wronged him.

“What’s wrong with me?” He asked aloud. “What’s changed?”

An answer darted through his mind, and he would have dismissed it, save that…yes, it did make sense. It made sense if he rationalized that he was trying to preserve what he had of Shinigami- that he was trying to do as thenochecornio would have done.

And Shinigami would have forgiven him, Duo reflected, feeling an ache where his most complete happiness had been. But it felt better than before, knowing that he felt he was doing the right thing, just as his friend would have insisted, and he was doing it in spite of his own childish reservations. Now the first step will be to make nice withhim, no matter what.

A slight cough behind him alerted him to the hunter’s presence, and he turned away from the window he had been staring out of as he thought, smiling contently at the nervous green-eyed man, not realizing until a bit late that the other was not wearing any clothing.

“Oh,” He murmured faintly, turning away to the dresser drawer and searching through it hurriedly for something in the hunter’s size. Only to cover the legs, though, because the cuts looked like they desperately needed bandaging, and the majority were above the belt line. He whipped out a satisfactory pair of briefs and pants to go over them, handing them wordlessly to the confused hunter without turning. “I hope I’m not red,” Duo muttered to himself.

There was a slight shuffling as the clothes were put on, and then expectant silence stretched again. After swallowing his pride, anger, grief, and embarrassment, and carefully locking them deep down in a pit at the bottom of his toes, he turned back to the green-eyed murderer.

“I thought maybe you’d like me to bandage those,” The hunter’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Or at least help you bandage those…Quatre’ll have a fit if he sees blood all over the bed later, so, um-“ He tried to look anywhere but at the Hunter, clenching and unclenching his hands, willing himself not to cause more pain where it wasn’t necessary. The thought kept running through his mind that now would be the perfect opportunity to finish what Heero had been doing, and the counter that Shinigami would have insisted he not was fairly weak in comparison. “Why are you helping me?” Duo looked up and stared in surprise at the Hunter, surprised that the other possessed such a light-toned voice. There was very little emotion in the words, but he did notice some. Strangely enough, itsounded like guilt.

“Wh-wha-what, ummm, what do you mean, exactly?” Now the man crossed his arms over his chest- his bare, pretty, tantalizing chest, Duo thought naughtily. –And explainedhimself. “It was yours.”

“What?” Pushing his pride back down and allowing his face to be as confused and undignified as it liked, Duo waited for an answer. The hunter gave him a look of not-quite-confusion and further clarified, his tonesoftening.

“The unicorn.” Yep. Definitely guilt. The urge to killebbed slowly away.

“Nochecornio, and he was male,” Duo insisted automatically, remembering the many arguments he had suffered with Heero because of the other forgetting what gender his Shinigamiwas.

“What can you possibly gain from helping me?” Duo considered a moment, and pretended that he was just talking to himself to make the admission easier to speak aloud.

“I get the knowledge that I did something right, and that I’m preserving his memory. He wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer for him…unless you meant to kill him,” He gave the hunter a pointed look. “Which I figured you didn’t, after the way you collapsed in the clearing.” As the silence stretched between them, Duo found that his confidence in his judgement of the other’s character was slipping steadily. Meanwhile, the hunter had closed his eyes and was as still and silent as he might have been were he asleep.

This man knows me better than he thinks, the hunter reflected. He tried to reconcile his guilt with the hope of somehow compensating the other’s loss with some kind of service. His eyes slid back open, and he saw the uncertainty that was hanging around the braided boy. Taking that into consideration, he decided that the first thing to do would be to help the other through his grief.

“Thank you,” He conceded. When the violet eyes returned to his, looking so pained that it was a miracle to see that happy façade on top of it, he almost regretted having spoken. It might have been easier for him to just kill me, and think that I had done it all in cold blood.

“So are you going to sit down, or will I have to push you down to get those scrapes bandaged?” Slowly the hunter moved to the bed and before sitting down he looked up with a question and something of a wan smile in his eyes.

“You’re sure this isn’t in any way a charitable deed?” Duo laughed and motioned for him to sit down onto the bed, whirling then to find some supplies.

“Are you kidding? It’s only to save Quatre from his fits.” With no grace whatsoever, he plopped down next to the tenseHunter. “Really.”

Duo carefully began wrapping the scratches in white gauze.