Taking Wing

Pale light danced over the gently moving waves. The moon wasn’t usually this bright. Cities were funny things—providing blazing light and blocking out the awesome sights above. He stretched out an arm, pale in the soft light. He could almost hear the music. A heavy beat in time to the waves rocking the ship. A quiet flute flowing with the cool wind. Then there was the choir—the words were lost in the night, though the soothing voices sang for him. He found his body swaying gently, his outstretched fingers twitching in time. He let his feet change the swaying into a small dance. As rare as it was to see the moon, it was harder to hear these quiet moments. He hadn’t danced a hymn in years. Recently, the songs were loud and glaringly bright. He could dance the Gundam songs of death. Those were easy with fast, hard movements. It was an adrenaline rush, the bass reverberating through the very ground and voices screaming. Even the thief song was easy. It demanded secrecy and speed with its low, insistent thrumming.

But this. This was a moon song. He felt his feet sliding out to turn him. He flowed with the slow cadence. His eyes rested on Heero for a moment before sliding back to the ocean. It didn’t matter that Heero saw this. He needed this dance. He might never get another. Hands slowly weaved the melody into the air. Feet gently flowed to the beat. Calm. Quiet. There were moments he could almost believe in a deity that wasn’t Death. The air shifted. The music began to fade. There were times he believed the God of Death was teasing him, too.

His eyes slid open. He didn’t remember closing them. There was the moon, bright and tiny over the sea. There was Heero, eyes shut, straddling the rail and leaning into the wind. Duo was too calm to even think on it. He moved to lean on the rail. Soft waves whispered in his ears. Cool light caressed his skin. Heero was a solid presence at his side.

Sea, moon, and Heero.

What a combination for a peace song.