Reality Storm: Chapter 4
by K.Huntsman
released 25th July 2000
Shin was at one with the universe. He floated in the lake and looked up at the sky where, as Touma had promised, silver streaks of light had begun painting the heavens. The worst of the day's heat had faded, which had perked up several individuals, and on the shore there was a party going, complete with a small bonfire on which to roast hotdogs and marshmallows. Shin spared a prayer that Shuu wouldn't repeat his experiment of cooking both at the same time.
The water surrounded him, caressed him, bouyed him up and left him weightless. His hair floated around him and life was good.
He wondered if there would ever be another summer this perfect.
Trowa watched silently as the others laughed and joked and cooked and ate. It was strange to see a scene like this when all he'd known his entire life was war. But here there had been no war.
No, that wasn't right. These strangers had known war of some type. Something in the backs of their eyes said so. He wondered if his fellow Gundam pilots had seen that, the faint, hollow echoes of soul-scarring battle and the way these others moved like trained warriors.
He couldn't think of a full-scale war which had happened during the lifetime of these others.
But... they had accepted the arrival of five war machines from the future without the blink of an eye.
The white tiger stretched from where he lay beside his master, then stood and padded over to Trowa.
Tigers didn't have brown eyes, did they?
Byakuen stretched again and laid down beside Trowa, placing a heavy head in the pilot's lap. Trowa scratched under the tiger's chin.
"Hey, Trowa, are tigers usually that tame?" Duo asked from where he sat near the fire, pointing a straightened coat hanger into the fire, a hot dog cooking on the far end of it.
"No," Trowa answered, feeling the tiger stretch his neck further to get more scratches. "I've never seen one so calm around people. Even at the circus they're not allowed to wander around freely."
"Byakuen is a special case," Nasuti said, reaching over to scratch at the large cat's stomach.
The tiger started purring and Trowa tensed up.
"What is it, Trowa?" Quatre asked, blue eyes large and worried.
Through his surprise, Trowa managed to reply, "Tigers... can't purr."
They're catching on, Ryou, Shuu warned.
It's not like I can keep Byakuen from purring! Ryou replied.
Don't worry about it, Touma advised with a quick glance into each of the others' eyes. If they find out, they find out. I think they're unlikely to tell anyone.
Shuu stood up. "Hey, Shin!" he bellowed out at the darkened lake, "do you want any hot dogs or should we finish them off without you?"
"Be there in a second," a distant reply came back across the water. I agree with Touma.
Trowa already knows we're not normal, Seiji commented. I think Heero does as well, and Duo also wouldn't surprise me.
How so? Touma asked.
They're warriors with clear eyes and pure hearts.
Quatre shook his head. There it was again, that low buzzing in his head that almost sounded like whispers.
/Maybe I'm going crazy,/ he thought. /Or is my space heart trying to tell me something?/ If it was, the message wasn't very clear.
Heero looked up at the stars, counting their patterns.
If he had possessed any doubts, the night sky alleviated them.
There were no colonies glittering among the stars.
Was the war proceeding at the same rate on the other side of the time rift? Or, once they crossed it again, would they find themselves at the moment of their departure?
What was happening while he was here?
"Heero, we can't go to town!" Quatre insisted. "What if one of us bumps into our ancestors or something and mess things up so that we're never born?"
"What if we bump into Khushrenada's and the entire war is eliminated?" Trowa rebutted, leaning against the side of the jeep.
Wufei stiffened in the shade of the porch. "Dishonorable," he growled.
"Chill, chill, Wufei," Duo placated. "Trowa was just kidding. I think."
"One of us needs to go to ensure that the parts are satisfactory," Heero said, glaring at random. "None of them would know that by looking."
Quatre started as Touma flipped down nonchalantly from the second balcony and landed next to him. He still wasn't used to the way that their new friends had of casually using such advanced athletic skills. "You do realize," the blue-haired teenager said, "that whether or not you five are capable of changing the timeline is an inapplicable argument."
The five of them looked expectantly (and quizzically) at Touma. He sighed. "If the five of you do change the past in any way," he clarified, "that will already have been reflected in your present."
"Translation?" asked Duo.
"What you will do has already been done. Your past is already shaped by the effects of your being in our time," Shin answered, stepping out onto the porch. He threw a glittering silver something towards Touma, who caught it without looking. It turned out to be a set of keys. "Nasuti says be sure to fill up the jeep before you come back, Touma, and I say get the groceries last so that they don't spend all day in the car and spoil." His glare was pointed.
Touma colored slightly.
"Any arguments?" Heero asked for the last time.
Quatre sighed and shook his head. He still thought it was a bad idea--there were too many unknowns--but he appeared to be outvoted, and Heero was right. They did need someone to check the parts.
"Unless something goes wrong, we'll be back before dark," Touma told Shin before slipping into the driver's side of the jeep.
"Don't say things like that!" Shin cried. "You're tempting fate!"
Heero got in the passenger side, and the pilots adjourned as the red Samurai roared to life and spun down the gravel driveway. Duo cast a final look after the disappearing shape of the vehicle and sighed. Then the braided pilot turned to Shin and asked brightly, "I was told you're the one I should ask about swimming lessons?" Quatre eeped as Duo, with a manic expression, latched onto his arm. "Neither one of us is real hot in the water."
"Duo...!"
Shinigami turned innocent eyes onto Quatre. "Yes?"
Quatre cursed mentally. Duo would remember that he couldn't swim either. "Nothing," he said.
"Right, then," Duo said, turning back to Shin. "Now, what do a couple of Gundam pilots have bribe you with to get taught?"
Reality Storm: Chapter 5
by K.Huntsman
released 31st August 2000
Seiji was watching the beginning of the sunset. It was a glorious blaze of pinks and reds and golds and seemed to promise clear weather for the next day, though he would have to check with Touma to be certain of that.
Laughter and shrieks drew his attention to the lake, where his friends and Nasuti, as well as most of their guests, were playing. Seiji smiled slightly to himself. Shin's swimming lessons seemed to have degenerated for the day into a water fight/cannonball-off-the-end-of-the-dock festival, with Shuu, as always, winning for the most impressive splash. Only Wufei held himself aloft from such games, nesting with a book halfway up the large oak near the dock. Seiji noted his position with approval; the Chinese warrior was able to keep a clear view of his allies, as well as a strategic view of the surrounding area. No one would be able to sneak up on him while he read.
Trowa, meanwhile, was swimming calm laps up and down the lake.
It was a bit sad, Seiji reflected, that the young man couldn't join in the games of the others.
What's sad? Ryou asked, catching part of Seiji's thought.
Trowa.
Ryou blinked a few times, then turned to look at the lonely figure swimming back and forth. So did Shuu.
Yeah, Shuu said after a minute. I guess that is kind of sad, isn't it? I mean, you may be an uptight jerk sometimes, Seiji, but at least you know how to play.
Thank you, Seiji said drily. Then his eyes narrowed, looking at the blond Gundam pilot who had stopped playing as well and had a hand held to the side of his head. His expression was bewildered.
Was it possible...?
Quatre, Seiji thought carefully and deliberately.
Quatre's head jerked around and he stared across the distance right into Seiji's eyes.
Seiji smiled and promised himself that he would soon have a long chat with the other empath. Why don't you try to go drag Trowa into the games? he suggested, and turned to go towards the driveway as he heard the unmistakeable sounds of Touma's driving.
"We've returned!" Touma called out as he exited Nasuti's Samurai.
"Welcome back," Seiji said, melting into view. "How did your trip go?"
"Sufficient parts were acquired," Heero replied brusquely, accepting the bags Touma handed him.
"I believe we called upon every parts store, junkyard, and car dealership within the range of one day's driving," Touma elaborated, giving Seiji goods to carry as well. "We also managed to obtain the additional vestments our five new friends will require, as well as fulfilling Shin's every culinary whim. What does he want 'rose water' for, anyway?"
"I have no idea," Seiji replied, "but I'm sure it will be delicious."
"Where is everyone?" Heero asked.
"With the exception of Wufei, in the lake. The last I saw, they were attempting to drown one another."
"Proves Wufei's got sense," Heero commented, then marched into the house, his arms full of paper bags containing varied heavy bits of machinery.
"So, how was your day?" Seiji asked.
Touma glared at him. "Unconversational."
He's an empath, you know, Seiji commented, leaning against the kitchen wall and unhelpfully watching Shin cook.
Who is? Quatre? Touma asked from the den, where he was seated before a Go board, playing against Ryou. Even with Nasuti's help, Ryou was losing rather badly.
Ace, Seiji replied.
So what do we do about it? Shuu flipped channels in the living room until he settled on a random period drama.
I'll talk with him, Seiji offered. I think he's been hearing us.
WHAT?! Touma and Ryou both sat bolt upright. Shin stopped stirring and turned to look at Seiji.
Kourin's master shrugged. Not distinctly, perhaps, but... should it be so surprising that we're not the only people in the world with talents?
Shin turned back to his soup. I suppose not. We've just never met any of them before.
Well, we have now. Seiji pushed off from the wall and came over to stand beside Shin. He accepted a small sip of the broth and paused, letting the taste roll around his mouth. He smiled and nodded once.
Shin nearly blushed in pleasure.
Quatre was curious.
Through the open window he could hear the other pilots playing a game of two-on-two basketball until dinner, switching off on partners and teams every five points. Duo had asked if he wanted to play as well, but Quatre had declined. It would make an uneven number, he'd explained, and there was something he wanted to discuss with Seiji.
That was true enough.
He still nearly jumped out of his skin when the knock on the door came.
"Come in," he said, hoping he didn't sound nervous.
Seiji entered, closed the door behind himself, and leaned against it. He studied Quatre for a moment before speaking.
"So, you're a psychic," he said.
"Psychic?" queried Quatre, a little confused.
"You feel things that others don't," elaborated the taller blond. "Don't you?"
Quatre warily nodded.
Seiji's smile was sudden, soft, and blinding. "You've never met another person with those abilities, have you?"
Quatre shook his head. "No. Except maybe Heero, and I'm not sure about him."
"You've been hearing us, haven't you?" The tone was non-accusatory.
He nodded. "Just... a low buzz in the back of my mind." Then he looked into Seiji's visible violet eye, realizing what had just been implied. "You talk to one another? All of you?"
"Just the five of us," Seiji replied. "We're... linked. It's complex, and a long story."
"Ah." Quatre understood long stories and understood when he was being told to back off. "I haven't been eavesdropping."
"I didn't think you had been," Seiji allowed. "At least not deliberately."
Quatre hesitated. "May I ask you some things? You seem to be more confident with these abilities than I am."
Seiji nodded. "Of course. But perhaps some other time. Shin sent me up to call you for dinner."
"Ah." Quatre smiled; he'd already been treated to Shin's culinary excellence, and it rated with that of any five-star chef he'd ever eaten from. "Then, by all means, let's not keep him waiting."
"My sentiments exactly," Seiji agreed. He opened the door for Quatre, and they proceeded down the stairs with a certain understanding, Quatre felt, glowing between them.
Heero moved through the house silently, listing to himself who was located where and being sure to avoid them. He wanted to go check on Wing, and didn't want any questions or distractions.
He made it to the living room where Touma sat on the sofa, eyes closed, large black headphones over his ear. A curling black wire trailed from them to the stereo setup on one side of the room.
Heero stopped and looked. He appreciated the other teenager's obvious intelligence and honesty. But Touma was not a factor that Heero could understand. None of their acquaintances from this era were.
"Normal," Heero said aloud.
"Duo, come back here!!" The familiar cry came from an unfamiliar voice and gave Heero just enough warning to step out of the way before Duo barreled into the room at top speed, Shuu running after him. "That's my Twinkie!!" Duo vaulted the headphone cord; Shuu however ran into it, ripping it out of where it was plugged in.
Loud music blared into the room at a high volume, pausing his pursuer while Duo made an escape out the window.
"Dammit, Touma, you trying to deafen yourself?!" Shuu demanded as he turned the volume down.
"I like Pat Benetar!" Touma replied. Heero stared at the twinkling lights of the CD player, his mind tracking and translating the English lyrics.
--We can't afford to be innocent, stand up and face the enemy--
--It's a do or die situation, we will be invincible--
Reality Storm: Chapter 6
by K.Huntsman
released 31st August 2000
Trowa carefully tightened the bolt, then looked up at the cockpit. "How's that?" he called.
Machinery hummed to life beneath his hands; he watched its motion closely, making sure that the gears were running smoothly, no sparks, checking their placement and speed. Then the mobile suit was shut down and the motion slowed, dying to stillness.
"It seems to be fixed," Quatre replied, coming out of Sandrock's hatch.
"One problem down, ninety-nine to go," Trowa told him with a faint hint of amusement in his voice. He straightened and looked through the trees to where he could see Duo working on Deathscythe. Faint chatter drifted through the air as pilot 02 kept up his usual monologue.
It had been hard to tell whose Gundam was the most badly damaged, but Wing and Shenlong seemed the forerunners for the position. Heavyarms, despite having run empty on armaments during the battle, seemed to have gotten off with the least damage. After making the few repairs which allowed his Gundam to at least be mobile, Trowa had sought out Quatre, for reasons he couldn't explain even to himself, and offered his aid.
The blond pilot, a smudge of oil darkening his left cheek, had accepted with the happiest of smiles.
"Shit," Duo Maxwell cursed, up to his braid inside the Gundam, struggling to reach the cracked disk he needed to replace. "Shit shit shit shit shit, and have I mentioned I hate being short?" His fingers touched the disk and he wriggled a few more inches forward. "Almost... got it... damn it, where's Howard and his guys when I really need 'em?" His fingers closed on the object and he grinned triumphantly. "Gotcha! Hey, Deathscythe," he called to his partner, "anyone ever tell you you're a bitch to repair? That's why I let Howard fix ya up. Unlike a certain antisocial 'no one touches my Gundam but me' pilot. You think maybe he's using Wing to represent something else? No? Well, I do. That guy's got a control issue so big that--"
"That what?" Heero Yuy's voice asked from outside of Shinigami's right knee joint.
Duo's head jerked up and hit a block. "Ow... fuck," he cursed, pressing one hand against the back of his head. "Heero, do you always have to sneak up on people?" he asked, wrenching the cracked disk free of its last clamp and beginning to wriggle backwards.
"You were making so much noise you wouldn't have noticed an army of Leos," Heero acidly replied as Duo emerged.
Duo glared. "Fine, what do you want?"
"Lunch is here." Heero dropped to the ground and began walking away.
The promise of food evaporated Duo's bad mood in a heartbeat.
Lunch had appeared in the form of two picnic baskets carried by Shuu, who led the other twentieth-century natives unerringly to the Gundams. Wufei raised an eyebrow as he saw how much food had been layered into the two baskets, and how heavy they must be. Shuu just grinned at him in response and offered forth a braggart comment about being able to bench-press a bus.
And as they ate, Wufei worried. The mechanical parts Heero had acquired, despite their primitive make, were sufficient to return most of the Gundams to mobile status. However, the flight systems of all the suits had been damaged, as well as sensor arrays, communications monitoring, and weapons control. The odds of being able to repair delicate circuitry systems with 1989 parts were so low as to make the task impossible.
Even the delicious taste of strawberries and cake melting in his mouth wasn't enough to distract Wufei from these thoughts.
Quatre blinked, his right hand creeping to his chest.
"Quatre?" Trowa asked.
"Something's... not right," he said unsurely.
Seiji's eyes met his from across the clearing. The other blond closed his eyes in seeming concentration. Then their shock of violet opened. "Something is coming," he agreed.
Forks were hastily laid down. "Nasuti, get back to the house," Touma ordered. The woman nodded and turned, starting to run.
Something rippled in the sky, feeling so wrong that Quatre gasped, his hand fisting over his heart. And when he looked up, he understood why.
"What are those?" Shin asked, his tone awed but his eyes sharp.
"Aries," Duo spat out. "Damn Treize anyway!" He turned and, following Wufei's example, sprinted to his Gundam.
"You should go, too," Trowa told the five boys who belonged in this time. "This is not your fight."
"Maybe it wasn't," Ryou agreed, taking something from his pocket. Quatre recognized it--a crystal sphere. All five of the young men seemed so have one. "But they just made it ours."
Light flared, and Quatre's eyes widened.
Credits:
Hot Fudge Productions (Mel, Ali, bow-worship) made the Invincible video;
Sandy did the Twinkie and the bench-pressing of the bus.