"You there?"

The young pilot snaped out of his thoughts sharply. He had been screwing the same nut for quite some time. He blinked rapidly. The american pilot was staring at him strangely. Had he said something dumb while he mussed? No. He is much too careful for such mistakes.

"The way you were looking at that nut, it made me think that it might have been your lost father." Duo laughed at his own sarcasm. He rubbed his forehead. Trowa's body tensed.

"Oi! Trowa," Duo said. "You ok?"

The pilot didn't answer him. He fastened the nut tighter, moving with a learned agility. He moved from one to another without looking back at Duo. Duo sighed and leaned over to help him. He began to whistle a tune, screwing the bolt. He tapped the wrench to the beat of the tune, hitting the wires rythmicaly. Trowa looked at him, sighing inwardly. Duo is so lively. How can he always be so happy? Doesn't he have some inward feelings as well? He looked up at the Mobile Suit. The huge frame of Heavy Arms loomed above him. Duo moved closer to him moving rapidly on the machine's core. Trowa bent over the wires and fastened one of the metal caps over it carefully.

Duo gasped as he clumsily dropped his wrench. Trowa's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat. The sound of the meatl wrench hitting the floor..hitting the floor...hitting...

Lazy boy, he had said. Go get yourself a job. He had tossed the work Trowa had done that morning. The dishes he had washed. He had scorned the breakfast he had served, yelled at him.

Trowa had gotten up from the table, had raised his head in defyiance. Wasn't it Trowa who everyday went out into the streets and battled the throng to get money? He was the one who sat hours doing whatever petty job there was to get money. L3 is a hard place. Its streets dangerous, ugly, and lonely. Trowa was tired of having to walk the streets like a bagabong. Like a peddler. He was tired of coming home to give his hard earned pennies to someone who only shoved critism. Who spat his soup caused it was too hot. Or too cold. Or too watery.

He had crossed his arms over his thin body. He snapped his mouth shut. Later,he regreted being so daring. So stupid.

His spoon. He had used his spoon to hit him. Over and over...hitting savagely... The young boy reached inside the water barrel. His bloody fingers picked some water, splashed it on his face. He washed his face, his tears. His stinging face. He gritted his teeth, his temple throbbing. He let his misserable body sink into the floor. His green eyes searched for something, someone, some caring soul. The cut along his temple began to bleed again. He closed his eyes. Darkness. The vicious faces were gone there, gone. Those faces that were always looking down at him scornfully. Kicking him like a begard, or a dirty lost child. He covered his face, his shame. Smelly water from the water cannel next to him sprinkled on him. The window on top of him shut adruptly. He let his head sink in his knees. The throng just kept on walking past him. No one cared fro the skinny young boy. Tears began to fall. Tears with no feelings.

"Looks good as new, man, " Duo stood back admiering the handy work both of them had done on the Mobile Suit. The red gundanium alloy shinned in the electric light of the lantern that Duo hat brought.

Trowa nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest. Duo set a glass in the crate before him looking at him. The pilot's violet eyes shone.

"Drink man," Trowa took the drink he was offering him. "I bet you are tired."

The long haired pilot sat back in the old couch that he had brought to the work area along with the lantern. Trowa sat next to him on one of the crates. Both looked proudly at the Mobile Suit. It had taken a lot of time to get the lower part of the machine back in shape. Duo smiled. He had never doubted that Trowa couldn't righten the machine. He smiled to himself. Trowa is a geniuos.

Trowa sip his drink silently, his eyes closed.

"Man," Duo said. "You sure psyqued out back there." Trowa looked at the boy. Duo nodded.

"Don't tell me, man. I know already. It must be something private, tearing at your soul."

Trowa frowned. "Nonsense, really."

"Ah," Duo said. "That's the worst kind." He leaned back on the couch, stretching his legs. He groaned, crosing his arms behind his head. "The worst kind." The light from the lantern drew shadows on his face. Trowa stared at him in silence unable to say anything. The long haired pilot yawned widely scratching his head, more like his hat, trying to reach his skull. Trowa looked up to the ceiling. Cold wires staring down at him. The world is so cold. Metallic cold like those wires. He set the glass down on the small crate they were using as a table.

He needs to have some sleep as well, but everytime he closed his eyes the memory returns. He shook his head.

Duo is watching him, the boy's eyes shining under his black cap. The young pilot lowered his head. Defeated. Duo smiled at him. For a moment Trowa was glad that he was not alone.

"Hold it in,Trowa," Duo said. "The reason. The reason to fight. Until our mission is over."

Trowa gasped. He looked at Duo for a long time silently. The other pilot didn't move either. Both of them sat there in silence, the emptyness speaking the words they didn't have to say.

A man is born smiling or he will never learn. This is something that he must find a pleasure since he is a child. Those that cannot smile are cursed by nature. They either kill themselves or become clowns. It is their way of making themselves smile, pretending to do with horrid make up, and making others smile with their stupid tricks.

They never are fully happy.

Egao no kamen. His own fate looking at him. Trowa fingered the mask with his small fingers. The boy had no more tears to shed, no more feelings to be hurt. His soul was empty, devoid of any source of warmth. Dead.

He had no more smiles.

He had now to wear a mask so he can pretend to smile. He nodded. Where he was going, the fated battle he was becoming a part, would have no place or reason for him to smile.

The young man looked up at the sky, at the rising metal that is the dome of the L3 colony. No reason to smile at all.

"Trowa," Duo whispered.

The machine next to the couch began to beep softly. It was almost time for the tide to change. Time to move so the Mobile Suits could be smuggled quietly. Trowa's head was leaning on the side of the couch. The boy had finally fallen asleep out of sheer tiredness. Duo smiled looking at the boy.

"Nice to see even you can have feelings, Trowa," Duo mumbled. "Even if you wont share them with me, but I don't care to know, man. Don't tell me. Don't."

He reached over to tap the machine and made it shut up. The small beeping slowing down and falling silent. He noticed the pilot stir. He cursed. Trowa's green eyes shone as they opened slightly waking grudegly. He moaned softly. Duo proped his feet back on the seat. Trowa let his head fall back on the seat's arm exhausted.

"Forget it, man," Duo whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Trowa's lips moved slightly. A small faint smile. He mouthed a small thank you. Duo closed his eyes. Who cares if they screwed the mission just once? He smiled as Trowa folded his arms under his shin.

The shadow of pain and sorrow, hardship and worry, once more on his face. His true soul talking. His human emotion on his face. So tired. A small smile crossed his lips. Only Duo could see it. The young american pilot frowned. Perhaps when he is awake, Trowa can hide that smile, and all that fear and pain, under his cold mask, but not now, when he is asleep.

Duo smiled to himself closing his eyes. He let his tired head fall to one side.

This war can wait.