"Are you sure you don't want me to have a look at your arms? They appear to be quite badly bruised," said Heero as he searched for the first aid kit.

"There are no bone fractures, and the bruises should fade on their own." Trowa had a bemused look which did not escape Heero's detection.

Unsettled by any form of expression on the normally expressionless boy's face, Heero demanded gruffly, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"For a moment you actually sound as if you’re concerned."

Is Trowa teasing him? Heero dismissed that thought as ridiculous after a while. "Has some of Duo's irritating behaviour rubbed off on you as well?"

Trowa noticed that Heero was being more truculent than usual and decided to choose his words more carefully. "I just want to point out to you that you have changed a lot from the cold, killing machine that you once were." When Heero made no reply, Trowa continued, "Ever wondered who or what caused this change in you?"

Heero was relieved when Quatre chose that moment to come out of Duo's room. Trowa seemed to have lost interest in him, shifting his full attention to the blond pilot instead.

Quatre looked exhausted after tending Duo for the past ten hours. "I managed to lull Duo back to sleep..." Quatre's voice suddenly became anxious. "Where's Wufei?"

"We had locked him outside the house," said Trowa. Seeing the look of pure alarm on Quatre's face, he quickly added, "There's no need to worry about him. He had received new orders from the Colony this afternoon and really should be on his way to his designated position."

Quatre breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this. "I hope Duo recovers his memory before Wufei returns from his mission. I don't want to face Wufei's wrath again..." A thought struck Quatre and his anxiety returned. "Trowa! Your arms! Are they hurting badly?" He scampered to Trowa's side and examined the battered arms, grimacing at the sight of each blue-black bruise.

"There is no need to worry," said Heero, "Trowa himself had said that..."

"I'm not sure whether there are any bone fractures," interjected Trowa. "But I think there is still need for a good rub down with some balm."

"The first aid kit is in the kitchen. I'll go and get it."

When Quartre was away, Heero looked steadily at Trowa and asked, "Didn't you just said...?"

"A rub down will make the bruises fade faster," Trowa explained hastily.

"Oh." Quartre soon reappeared with his shoulders draped with gauze and his hands balancing ointments, oils and creams of every kind. Sensing that his presence was not wanted, Heero quietly retired to his room.  

* * * * * *

He was awakened by the grumbling of his empty stomach. It was a reminder that he had not consumed any solid food for a long time. The dark frightened him, but his hunger pangs refused to be ignored. Reluctantly, he pulled himself from his warm blanket and tiptoed out of his room. He carefully closed the door and was glad that the hinges were not creaky. And now for that food...

He found himself standing in front of a refrigerator before he remembered that his surroundings were alien to him and he shouldn't be able to locate the kitchen so easily. He almost had a cardiac arrest when he heard a cold, deadly voice coming from behind him.

"Move one muscle and I'll put a bullet through your brain."

He could tell that the person who said this was not jesting. However, the voice sounded very familiar... The blood drained from his face when his mind presented him with the image of the voice's owner.  "Sto-Stoneface?" 

"What..?" The lights went on and he squinted from the brightness. He felt a hand seizing one of his shoulders and spinning him around. Fearful violet eyes met rock-hard blue eyes. "Duo!" Flames of anger began to dance in those blue eyes. "Why are you sneaking around like a thief so late at night?!"

"I... I..." Courage failed him and he clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering. Where is Angel? He did not dare to scream for help for fear of angering Stoneface further. His stomach answered Stoneface on his behalf by growling loudly.

Stoneface continued to stare at him a while longer before his face creased into a smile. The smile made Stoneface's face appear less menacing and he felt his courage returning. "I gather that you are hungry now?"

"Ye..Yes," he stammered in reply. Stoneface's smile had disappeared and he was overwhelmed by a strong desire to see it again.

Stoneface gestured towards the dining table. "Sit down while I prepare something for you to eat."

He could hardly believe his eyes and ears. He had never expected Stoneface to be so... hospitable... and kind. Perhaps he had totally misjudged Stoneface...

"Here, dig in."

He glanced down at what Stoneface had presented on the table before him. A glass of tap water and something that looked like a tube of toothpaste. "Dig into what?" He held up the tube of toothpaste between his thumb and index finger as if it was a poisonous viper. "Is this thing edible? What is this anyway?"

"Space rations."

"How the heck do you eat this?" he asked incredulously.

Stoneface snatched the tube from his fingers, squeezed out one lump of fibrous mass from the tube, chewed and swallowed the lump before returning the tube to him. "Eat. Wash it down with water if you have to."

He meekly accepted the tube but made no attempt to repeat Stoneface's demonstration. "I think I've lost my appetite..." He found himself staring at the barrel of a gun.

"I won't let you starve. Eat," commanded Stoneface in tones that defied argument.

It did not take long for him to decide between getting shot and eating the paste-like food. The whole process of forcing the bland paste down his throat took more than an hour- a process which was made even more difficult by the presence of an armed Stoneface.

"Good," said Stoneface, inspecting the tube to make sure that it was squeezed dry. "You can go back to your room now."

"Monster..." he muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?"

He thanked the stars that Stoneface had not heard his unflattering remark. "I said I don't know where my room is. Can you show me where it is?" he asked sweetly. He realized that he was no longer afraid of Stoneface. Maybe it was because of that instantaneous smile which Stoneface had accidentally revealed to him. Anyone who smiled like that at him could not have meant him harm.

"It's the room you came out from," pointed out Stoneface.

"I forgot the route I took to arrive here."

"Up the stairs. To your left. Next to the balcony." It seemed that Stoneface was determined not to be more helpful than necessary.

"Even if I go back to my room, I won't be able to sleep due to nightmares." He exercised his pleading voice. "Can you watch over me while I sleep?"

"No."

Undaunted by Stoneface's brusque answer, he pressed on. "Then can you tell me where Angel's room is? I'll ask him to watch over me instead."

"No."

"How about if I sleep together with you in your room? That way, you don't have to stay awake to watch over me and I can still be comforted by your presence."

Stoneface paused before replying, "No."

He gave Stoneface a baleful look. "You hate Duo, don't you?" The question was so unexpected and sudden that Stoneface was lost for words. "Don't deny it. I had been slapped, yelled at and threatened by you the moment I woke up. I don't know what this Duo character had done to you in the past or why you have a grudge against him. So I will really appreciate it if you don't direct your hatred and resentment towards him at me..."

Stoneface interrupted, "But you are Duo! Duo Maxwell."

"That name means nothing to me."

Stoneface was gravely astonished by his retort. "Duo... what happened to you?" Stoneface took him by the shoulders and shook him violently. "What did Shang do to you?!"

"Hey! Leggo of me!" He tried to dislodge Stoneface's hands from his shoulders but the effort felt as futile as uprooting a tree with his bare hands. "I don't know what happened to me and I don't know who Shang is, so please unhand me!" The places where Stoneface's fingers had dug in were beginning to hurt.

Stoneface released him and he backed away from the Japanese boy. Japanese? Now how did he know that?

"Sorry... I was.. " Stoneface was at a loss for words again.

"Rude, mean, extremely emotional and mentally unsound?" he listed helpfully.

Stoneface nodded his head, appearing to be properly chastised. "I'll watch over you while you sleep. Let's go upstairs now." Stoneface spoke softly, as if lacking the energy to argue further.

* * * * * *

It was there waiting patiently for him in his dreams. It had no soul; no purpose except to rip him apart. Try as hard as he could, he just could not outrun the faceless, mind-ravaging beast that was after him. His legs were like lead, making his escape impossible. He watched in horror as the beast crept slowly towards him...

Help me! Somebody... Anybody! It was a mental call for help but he doubted that anyone had heard it. He was alone here. Alone with a creature hungry for his blood. Hungry for his pain. “Angel!” he cried out in despair.

Suddenly, he was no longer alone. He felt the presence of another person in his dream, a presence that drove away all fear and panic from him. The person lifted his hands and the beast disintegrated, becoming grains as fine as sand that vanished as they fell to the ground. The person turned to him and spoke directly to his mind. “Are you alright?”

For some unknown reason, he knew that this person could be trusted and would never harm him. The concern in the person's mental voice was too real to be faked. “I'm fine. And you are..?” He had gotten a closer look at his rescuer and found him to be a complete stranger. It wasn't Angel or Stoneface. It wasn't Broomhead or Yellow Monkey either.

The person walked towards him and stopped one pace away from him. He was startled when the person reached out and touched his cheek, but he made no move to weave away. His reaction seemed to please the person. “Do you no longer despise me?”

“Why should I despise you?” he asked, puzzled. “I don't even know who you are.”

“What?” The person's surprise was clearly shown. “You don't remember?”

“Have we met before?” He silently cursed the memory loss he was suffering from. This person must have meant a lot to him in the past. He trusted this person, and he was not one who trusted people easily.

The person did not appear angry or frustrated. “It's okay if you can't remember me.” Far from it, the person exuded relief and gladness. “Let me reintroduce myself...”

* * * * * *

Heero drank in the sight of Duo's sleeping form. Although he made heavy weather of granting Duo his request, he was secretly looking forward to it.

Heero spent a long time brooding over the feelings he had for the softly snoring boy on the bed. As Katherine Kane, the boy was everything that he had ever loved and wanted. As Duo Maxwell, the boy was a jester with a special talent of getting on his nerves. You hate Duo, don't you? Heero was still trying to find an answer to that question.

Duo began whispering in his sleep. Heero thought that it was just more of Duo's incoherent mumblings until he caught the word 'Shang'. Thinking that he had heard wrongly, he lowered his head so that his ear was just centimetres away from Duo's moving lips. The word was heard again. "Shang."

* * * * * *

The glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows woke him up. He got up and stretched himself, simultaneously yawning loudly. He looked around and was annoyed to find that Stoneface had not kept his promise. He was all alone in his room.

Stoneface must have went back to his room immediately after I have fallen asleep. He was fortunate that Shang was there to save him from that nightmarish beast. From now on, he would have no more problems sleeping with Shang as a guardian of his dreams. Shang... Was it possible that the 'Shang' Stoneface referred to was the same 'Shang' who appeared in his dream last night? Impossible was his conclusion after a moment's thought.

His thick braid fell over his shoulder and he saw that it was mussed. Strands of hair were sticking out of it, giving it the appearance of a frayed rope. What kind of a boy was Duo anyway? To allow his hair to grow this long – longer even than most girls. Was Duo a sissy? A faggot? Any further thoughts about his predecessor along this line chilled his heart and he quickly sought other things to occupy his mind. His eyes fell on a pair of scissors on the wooden table beside his bed.

* * * * * *

"Er... good morning, Heero," greeted Quatre nervously.

Heero pretended not to hear him and continued to pound savagely on the punching bag. The chain holding the punching bag to the ceiling rattled dangerously, as if on the verge of snapping. He needed the pounding of blood in his ears to drown out everything else inside him. Every thought. Every emotion. The floor was wet with droplets of his sweat.

"It's about Duo, isn't it?" asked Trowa who was standing beside Quatre.

Heero froze and the swinging punching bag caught him squarely on the chest. The wind was knocked out of him and he stopped to recover his breath. "I don't know what you're talking about," growled Heero.

Quatre asked curiously, "Does this have anything to do with Duo?"

Trowa ignored both Heero's denial and Quatre's question. "Why don't you ask Duo to come down for breakfast? He should be ravenous by now, it's been five hours since his last meal."

Heero wiped his steamy face with a towel. "You were fast sleep at that time, so you don't know that I had given him something to eat at four o'clock this morning."

Trowa glanced at his watch. "It's nine o'clock now. Five hours exactly." Trowa walked away without another word, leaving behind a stunned Heero and a confused Quatre.

"What was that all about?" asked Quatre.

Heero stomped up the stairs without bothering to answer Quatre. He opened the door to Duo's room without knocking and puffed up his chest in preparation to yell. The words died on his tongue when he saw Duo with his hair undone and a pair of scissors in his hand. Several locks of chestnut brown hair littered the floor.

It was another case of his body reacting faster than his brain. In a flash, Heero had twisted the scissors out of Duo's grasp. Duo yelped in pain and shrieked, "Leggo of me, you lunatic!" Heero delivered a slap across Duo's cheek before he could stop himself.

Duo looked as if someone had knocked the back of his head with a board. Heero expected Duo to cry again, and was not disappointed. What he did not expect, however, was retaliation. Duo kicked, kneed, chopped and clawed him before running out of the room to cry on Quatre's shoulder.

* * * * * *

Summoned by the commotion, Trowa arrived at the scene to find Heero picking himself up from the floor. The blue-eyed pilot looked like what the dogs fought over. His body slouched and there was a defeated look in his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Trowa concernedly.

"If I say no, will you leave me alone?"

"No," admitted Trowa. He saw the long hair scattered on the floor. "You were trying to stop Duo from cutting his own hair, weren't you?"

Heero merely grunted and said nothing.

"Why?"

"Because... because I have foresight," finished Heero lamely. "Do you remember the incident when Duo returned from one of his missions with his hair partly singed?"

"Oh yeah, I remember." Trowa placed a finger on his lower lip, appearing to be deep in thought. "He lamented over it for a week..."

"Ten days." Trowa was mildly amused by Heero's correction. Heero coughed and said, "If I let him cut his hair, none of us will have a decent night's sleep once Duo recovers his memory."

"You have a point there," said Trowa "But is that the only reason why you stopped him just now?"

Heero refused to acknowledge what Trowa was hinting at. "That's the only reason," he spat, walking out of the room and away from Trowa.

                                                                                                                             < To Part 7 >