All the standard warning apply. I don't own Gundam Wing,
all its characters are the sole property of whoever owns it. Umm...
don't sue me because I only have $5, and it probably wouldn't be
worth your time! But, that's it, so enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Honshitsu

by Eikyu No Nozomi


	Five little boys. Children, infants really, but at one
time, they were the mightiest of men. The world depended
upon them, and when the chore was done, they were thrown
away like rubbish. It is sad, but true. Heaven, Hell, and the
World move on, leaving the hollow, worn out husks of
these five solitary warriors behind. But, even before they
were know as these Brave Fighters, these Gundam Soldiers,
they were people. But, in the name of humanity, that was
not allowed to last for long, or ever at all.


Oh, all of time's have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain


	There was the trained assassin, taught from the
youngest age only to kill, never to weep. His own father
was the one who armed him, supplied him with his first
weapon, and taught him how to take his first life. People
stood back and watched as this tiny child became the killer
of millions, swooping over the battlefield on the wings of
his weapon, killing and destroying all that stood in the way
of completing his mission.
	But Heero, scared Heero, was not always like this.
He once was nothing more than a frightened child at first,
crying himself to sleep at night with the memories of his
training, his fathers teachings, haunting him even into his
dreams. A young child, who, at the tender age of five, was
taught to shoot to kill, hold no mercy, save for that of the
quick death. No mothers love ever found his heart, no
kindness was allowed to infect his thoughts. He, in the
minds of all who raised and trained him, was nothing more
than a Gundam Pilot, a Perfect Soldier. But, in creating
this soldier of perfection, they did not realize that in doing
so, they had destroyed the very thing that was perfection. A
humans soul.
	And so, now, were a person to look into Heero's
deep eyes, they would drown in emptiness. He has no soul,
he is nothing more than the discarded shell of a person.
Never weep for Heero Yuy, though, there is nothing that
can be done for him now. Weep only for what he has
become, and for the child suffering in anguish as his soul
melts through his fingers, people looking on with only their
own interests at heart. Weep for that poor child, not the
result, not the shell.


We can be like they are
Come on baby
Don't fear the reaper
Baby take my hand
Don't fear the reaper
We'll be able to fly
Don't fear the reaper
Baby, I'm your man


	Then there is the heart, the one who feels all
emotion, and weeps for every person he is forced to kill,
every person he must destroy to save a thousand more.
Quatre Rabera Winner. He would pity the killer as even
himself was struck down. It is sad that he was ever forced
to meet the battlefield, but without him, without his
kindness, and his ability to see past the missions, to see an
even greater good, people would have long ago been
doomed. There must always be a sacrifice to appease war,
and Quatre has fulfilled that role all too well. It is so
depressing to see him forced to choose between his beliefs
and his life, but he chooses instead of forcing that upon
thousands of even weaker people.
	True, he too was forced into the role of protector, but
he does not complain. Every day of his training, he held up
his chin, dried his tears, and took another step further. He
did not, would not, let the poison of war kill his soul. He
kept his essence clean, dealing with the hatred that clasped
onto him in his own fashion.
	But he chose the wrong way to deal with his intense
fury. He bottled it up, keeping it forever trapped within his
soul, eating it away and leaving only darkness in its place.
Soon, there might be nothing left of that dear, sweet boy.
Only a tormented victim, craving redemption, but never
stepping forward. Another sacrifice at the alter of the war
gods.


Valentine is done
Here but now they're gone
Romeo and Juliet
Are together in eternity
Romeo and Juliet
Forty thousand men and women everyday
Like Romeo and Juliet
Forty thousand men and women everyday
Greedy for happiness
Another forty thousand coming everyday


	And the nameless one, the one who lurks through
life, never truly showing his true face to anyone, just
covering it up with a half clown mask. Trowa Barton.
Triton Bloom. No Name. Nanashi. It doesn't matter that
he has no true history, he still was a soldier, a fighter
for life. But, by the time he first sat down in the cockpit of
the gundam Heavyarms, he was already destroyed. There
was nothing left of him before the battle got hold of him.
He has been nothing more than a cleverly hidden shell all
his life. Even Heero has a faint spark, while Trowa has
nothing more than an empty memory of battle, war, and
hatred.
	If there was ever one to be pitied, Trowa is the one
deserving of that tear shed in vain. He cares not for himself,
only for those he defends. He would not kill a fly if it were
possible, but fate deemed it otherwise, and he was forced to
shed a thousand times fold those he met in combat. True, it
was to save a million more each time, it was still something
no person should ever be forced into, especially one who
can claim nothing in return, not even the peace of mind that
the end brings.
	No, the only thing that could ever bring peace to the
turmoil of Trowa's mind, for he has no soul left with which
to grapple, is the fact that he did right, that sacrificing the
humane part of himself for the souls of the world was the
only thing he could have done. That he, in turn for his
death, shall gain his soul back. But that will never happen,
because a soldier, a child of his age, should never be faced
with the agony a conscious would cause him. No, he
would be better off left as the piece of flesh, blood, and
mind he was allowed to survive as, and be thankful that he
will never wake up in the mid of night covered in a cold
sweat, the faces of his victims surrounding him in torment.


We can be like they are
Come on baby
Don't fear the reaper
Baby take my hand
Don't fear the reaper
We'll be able to fly
Don't fear the reaper
Baby I'm your man

Love of two is one
Here but now they're gone


	And then there is Duo Maxwell, the God of Death,
Shinigami. He passes everything off with a laugh, a wink,
and a smile. He pretends that death has no affect on him,
that he is Death. That, when the battle is over, and the deed
done, he can saunter down the street, take a nap, chat with
some friendly strangers, and never have his conscious
bother him for it.
	But this isn't true, it never could be. If Duo was as
able to dismiss the deaths he caused in every fight so easily,
there would be nothing there to keep him on the battle field.
He would desert it for the nearest theme park, a nice sunny
park. He feels the pain as intensely as the others, but
chooses that his mask wear the smile of a happy clown,
even if the plaster is easily seen through.
	It is sad that Duo must destroy himself in such ways,
to sacrifice his happiness in such a horrible falsity, but it
must happen. He swore to the dying Sister Helen that no
one would ever suffer again, and is making sure that no one
ever will. He is still a human being, blood runs in his
veins, a soul still rests within his eyes, a conscious in his
heart. But he must struggle with them so that he might
save other war torn orphans, such as he, from his same fate.
He suffers every day, but in him, good does prevail.


Cambele ask light up Sethus
And it was clear she couldn't go on
Then the door was open and the wind appeared
The candles blew and then disappeared
The curtains flew and then he appeared
Saying don't be afraid
Come on baby


	The last one of these five pilots is the greatest
enigma of all, and the saddest. WuFei Chang. He was not
the original pilot, he was never meant to meet the
battlefield. But he is there none the less, doing as much as
all the other pilots combined to help. He claims he fights
for justice, but in truth, he fights because of a broken heart.
	His wife was the first pilot of the Shenglong, even
though WuFei was all the more talented. But WuFei did
not wish to fight, and who can blame him? He was no
more than fourteen at the time. But that didn't stop his wife
from piloting, it didn't stop her from disobeying her
husband, and piloting the Shenglong. 
	And it was from the cockpit of the Shenglong, after a
disastrous battle, that WuFei pulled her near dead body,
carrying her to the flower meadow she had loved so much.
He swore he would avenge her, reek justice upon his
enemies. But he wasn't using justice. He was just a scared
little boy that had watched his wife die. 
	No, even though he has a clashing personality, and
an uncontrollable temper, he is to be the most pitied of
them all. They all chose their fates, he was forced into it
more than anything else. I would not shed a tear in his
misery, but I would look sadly back, and weep in my
thoughts.


And she had no fear
And she ran up to him
And started to fly
They looked backward and said
She had become like they are
She had taken his hand
She had become like they are


	Whenever I walk into a conversation about these five
tragic souls, I always hear people saying how cool it would
be to pilot a Gundam, how they would give anything to be
in these pilot's shoes. When I hear comments like this, I
can only shake my head and walk away. Would they truly
want to sacrifice themselves for this cause? Would they
gladly face death everyday? Would they be happy of their
choice when they woke up in bed at night, haunted by the
faces of those they killed?
	No, no they wouldn't. They only think it would be
cool because it is a cool anime, nothing more than that.
And it really shouldn't be anything more than that. I would
hate to wake up one night, when I am old, withered, and
gray, and realize that we did the same thing to five little
children that happened to these five little soldiers. That is
my worst fear, and I hope it stays where it rests now, in the
realm of nightmares only.

Come on baby
Don't fear the reaper