Disclaimer: I don't own G Gundam—only the dumb situations I put the characters in.

Author's Note: It's been nearly a year, I know. Don't worry; I don't plan on making it a pattern. I think. Check the A/N after the chapter for my... excuse.

For Cuz I Can, who told me to get off my lazy ass and write. You're an inspiration, man.

Too Much Too Little

Chapter Three: Thinking of You

It was hot.

The sun bore down on the earth mercilessly, blanketing the area the King of Hearts was traveling through with a blanket of sweltering heat. Domon walked along the crowded street sluggishly, his usual brisk pace having succumbed to a slower one as the heat sapped nearly all energy from his being; the fact that there were hordes of people walking through the streets not making the high temperature any easier to deal with.

Domon kept his eyes cast on the ground—away from the murderous sun—as sweat streamed constant paths down his face. He was currently headed towards the hotel George had chosen for he and the rest of the Shuffle Alliance to stay in for the night before they split up to train; Domon opting to go straight from the hotel from the airport for some rest. He would be getting that rest now, too—if only the hotel wasn't so God damn far from the airport and there weren't so many God damn people on the street. Domon sighed in frustration. Someone up there was out to get him. He was sure of it.

Lifting his head every so often to see where he was going, Domon observed the people walking through the busy streets of Cairo, Egypt. A lot of them were tourists—which he supposed he'd be considered as well—however quite a few were natives. Domon could tell by the tanned color of their skin and the way the moved so expertly through the crowds. That, and the fact that they seemed to be utterly unfazed by the hot weather—which, he assumed, was because they were used to it. Thankfully, though, the sun was beginning to set.

Domon sighed, mopping the sweat from his from his forehead with the back of his hand, his hair subsequently un-clinging from the dripping skin. He didn't know how these people did it everyday. He'd just arrived in Cairo this afternoon and already he wished to leave. It was just so God damn hot; the air so thick and heavy with heat it was almost painful to breathe. Why couldn't they go train in the mountains somewhere again? Yes, Domon preferred the cold to the heat any day. However, as he'd learned during his time training with his master, extreme discomfort made for excellent training. And what could bring a man who wouldn't mind scaling the side of a mountain without any protective gear whatsoever more discomfort than to throw him a desert for three weeks with only the bare necessities and expect him to train to get stronger?

Nothing, Domon thought. Of all the members of the Shuffle Alliance, he hated this leg of the training the most. They all bitched and moaned about it; however Domon loathed the thought of training in the Sahara with every fiber of his being. So why, you might ask, did he propose they train there to begin with?

Because, he'd say, sometimes you have to do things you don't want to.

Oh, how true was that. Domon could relate the statement to many things, though it seemed to fit best not with the current situation he was in concerning training in the desert, but with a certain brunette he'd left in order to do so.

Domon closed his eyes briefly as he walked, catching a glimpse of her behind his closed lids. He could see her face, her head titled back as she laughed, sienna tresses falling over her shoulders and her blue eyes bright—their color enhanced even further by the mirth swirling within them. He smiled faintly, opening his eyes as he sighed. Rain…

Domon ran a hand through his hair, thinking back to the last time he'd seen her. It would be ten weeks since he had left tomorrow; ten weeks since he'd last seen her face—in the flesh, at least. It was impossible to count how many times Domon had imagined her. Every time he blinked, she was there.

Domon swore that he heard her sometimes, too. Her voice had been in his mind for years, a constant echo in his thoughts; however the frequency of which he heard her had reached startling levels. He could be in the middle of a dense forest or high on the peak of a mountain, but he would swear he was hearing her. Sometimes it was her laugh; others, it was her voice as she hummed, softly—the way she did when she thought she was alone. And, sometimes, she was even calling his name, her voice soft as a summer breeze rustling the petals of a new bloom.

"Domon…"

The man tightly shut his eyes, knowing that she wasn't really there—that it was just his imagination playing tricks on him once again. He opened his eyes and looked around, almost as if to assure himself that she really wasn't there, and that he really was walking along the hot and crowded streets of Cairo. Alone.

Perhaps it was the heat that was bringing it on now, causing him to hear things that apparently weren't there. But God, it sounded just like her, the voice the perfect timbre and pitch Rain used when she called out to him while they were in bed, the last syllable of his name coming out as a moan as he did something that drove her absolutely wild.

No, no, no, he thought to himself, trying desperately to will the thoughts away. He couldn't think about those things now. He had things to do—things which didn't involve Rain and the way she moaned his name when he did those things—those dirty, dirty things—he did to her when they were alone.

But fuck if she didn't make concentrating hard. She was everywhere and in everything, hardly giving him time to focus on anything else. Morning, noon, and night, she was there. Always. At times, though, her presence was more difficult to bear than it was at others. Without a question of a doubt, it was the worse at night.

When Domon laid his head down to rest, her face plagued his dreams and nightmares alike. He tossed and turned each and every night, trying to get away from her while desperately trying to hold on, to really have her in his arms again. She was always one of his subconscious imaginings, though, seemingly real—seemingly close enough to touch—but always out of reach.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Here he was, trying to concentrate—trying to get stronger—and he couldn't. Why? Because he couldn't get his mind off his girlfriend—who he'd run out on while she was locked in their bedroom crying her eyes out for him. It was some sort of odd divine retribution, the karmic forces of the universe at work to make him suffer for what he'd done to Rain.

But it wasn't fair. It wasn't as if Domon had wanted to leave her. Sure, he'd wanted to go train, but he had to do that. There was no way he couldn't. What type of fighter—what type of man—would break a promise he made to his dead master?

But, a voice within him added, what type of man would leave his sobbing girlfriend without properly saying goodbye?

Domon scowled.

So maybe it was wrong. That didn't mean that he was. Right?

The voice didn't respond.

Besides, it wasn't as if he didn't miss Rain either. For crying out loud, she was the voice in his head! Everywhere he went she was with him, driving him crazy with that demure laugh of hers or one of her soft exclamations. He missed her every second of every day. He missed her smile, her voice, her touch, her hair—he missed everything about her. He missed being with her, alone. Missed the contentment he got from just sitting with her watching TV or watching her while she cooked or brushed her hair. He missed holding her as she slept, missed having to wake her up twelve times in the morning and telling her that she was a half an hour shy from being late to work. He missed the different expressions her face would take—from jovial to exasperated—and missed the funny little twist her lips would get when she wanted to smile but wouldn't. God, he just missed her. There was no way to fully list all the ways. He wanted to be with her so bad, the urge sometimes exhibiting itself as a tangible pain racking his form.

Thoughts of her burned, manifesting themselves as fire running through his veins. He'd nearly collapsed once, unable to deal with the heat and pain that thinking of Rain brought on. It wasn't normal. Hell, it wasn't healthy. He'd known he would miss her (hello? He loved her), however he hadn't known it would be like this. It'd never been like this. All the times when he'd left before—at first for a month, and later for three—there'd simply been this longing. To see her, to touch her, to have her in his arms again—Domon had simply longed for her. Nice, normal longing. It had been hard to deal with, but he'd gotten through it. Now, there was a fire—a burn. And it hurt.

Nevertheless, Domon didn't like to dwell on things of that nature. It was stupid, and distracting, and stupid, and he'd never figure it out for the life of him. It just was. Just like how the sky just was blue, grass just was green, and he just loved Rain. Of course there were actual, clinical reasons for why these things were the way they were, but they were complicated. They were what they were, and Domon liked to leave it at that.

He only wished it wouldn't make his head hurt so God damn much. And that it wouldn't be driving him friggin' insane.

The man sighed, looking skyward to curse the sun and its incessant heat. It was too hot to be only mid-March, and Domon felt a sudden rush of yearning for his homeland of Japan and the cool weather the country was no doubt still experiencing. Even if it was a little warm there at this time—which, in itself, was extremely rare—he could always retreat to beneath the dense foliage of the forest surrounding his home; the weather there remaining temperate nearly all year 'round. Here, though, in this God forsaken country of sand and sun, there were hardly any trees to be found. At least, not the strong, tall trees Domon was used to.

And, if things got really bad, Domon always had the option of simply staying in and enjoying the chilled air provided by the central cooling system. He'd be able to do that soon, too. If I ever get to the God damn hotel, he thought grumpily, crossing yet another street. George was never to pick their hotel again.

As he continued to make his way through the crowded streets, Domon began to wonder what he and Rain would be doing now if he hadn't left to train. March signified the end of the winter months, and Rain probably would've been working on her garden. It was a new hobby of hers, one to which she devoted a surprising amount of effort. It both awed and amused Domon to watch her work. She was a proficient laborer, her pace always unhurried and her mind set on the task at hand, guaranteeing that it was correctly performed. Things did have the habit of going a bit awry, and Domon had always found it amusing to watch as her frustration grew as she tried to sort through her gardening troubles. For the most part, though, Rain's hobby seemed to relax her, and it made something within the fighter to swell to watch as her small, dainty hands sowed the seeds of life within the cold unforgiving earth.

Domon had always felt a connection to nature, his years training out in the wild with his master as a boy sealing the link between him and the natural world. He loved the tranquility of trees and water and life undisturbed by technology and modernization. The simplicity of it called to him like a siren's son—a song which he had no qualms with answering.

Once, during the Gundam Fight, while they were stationed in the Guinea Highlands for Domon's training, Rain had commented on how odd it was that he felt at home so far away from civilization. Domon had ignored her, annoyed with the fact that she couldn't see why. He'd spent years in the jungle; of course he was at home there. And, he remembered thinking, he'd been angry with the fact that she wasn't comfortable there, too. Not that he'd cared much about Rain's comfort back then, but still, the thought had been there.

Domon smiled ruefully. He wished he had been more attentive to her back then, that he would've opened up his eyes and seen the treasure that had been in front of him all along. It would've saved them a lot of the drama that had followed in the ensuing weeks.

It all just seemed so stupid sometimes. Rain had always been there, urging him on and pushing him forward, waiting for him to realize that, no matter what, she would forever remain by his side. She'd told him that she'd fallen in love with him in the Guinea Highlands; that, despite the thoughtless way he'd treated her then, her heart had gone to him.

"I hardly know why myself," she'd told him that night while they lie in bed. "You were just so mean." She'd released a little laugh. "But I suppose that even back then I could see all the pain you were in. You hid it so well, Domon, covering it up with rudeness and determination to master that rusty old sword. I still saw it though, no matter how seldom.

"But perhaps the real reason why it happened was because, out there in the wild, I saw a side of you that I'd never seen before. You're different out there. I mean, you were still an asshole most of the time—" He had poked her in the side in protest. "—but you were different. You'd been so determined to find your brother and the Dark Gundam that you hardly spared a thought for anything else. Over the months before then, I'd gotten only a handful of glimpses at the man you had become over the years. While we were in the Guinea Highlands though, I got to see a whole lot more of who you were. And I fell in love."

Domon couldn't say for sure if that was when he'd fallen in love with Rain too. To be honest, he didn't even know when he'd fallen in love with her. He just knew when he'd realized it—when it had almost been too late.

Domon shut his eyes, waiting for the memory to pass. He didn't like to think of how he'd almost lost Rain to the Dark Gundam. Seeing her being used as the life force unit for the monstrosity had been painful to the fighter, however watching the woman he loved suffer from the effects the machine had upon her form had been infinitely worse. He remembered the day they'd found out about it well, how frightened he'd been when he'd come home that day, not finding anything but the phone off the ringer and a puddle of blood by the bathroom door.

Domon's stomach muscles clenched in some sort of violent revolt against the thoughts, bile rising in his throat as he remembered how her blood had been smeared across the floor, almost as if… Christ, it was as if she'd been dragged across the hall. He remembered the terror he'd felt, how the feeling had encompassed his entire being, how he couldn't even move. And he remembered the smell—the salty, musky, deathly smell of the blood on the floor. It'd nearly made him faint.

Domon had thought the worse. A thousand and one scenarios had run through his mind, each more horrifying than the one before, showing him images of Rain taken away by some deranged killer, raped and tortured and bleeding and hurt and God, no, no, no. He wasn't going to think about this now.

Breathe,he reminded himself, trying to get himself to calm down. She was okay, Domon, remember? She was okay.

Okay, though, was a relative term. A call from his father had alerted him to Rain's whereabouts, and he'd found her in a hospital hours later. She was okay, in a sense, however very much not okay too. Domon hadn't bothered with listening to all medical jargon, much of which he didn't understand anyway. All he'd wanted to know was three things: what was wrong (Rain couldn't have children), what had caused it (being used as the life-force unit for the Dark Gundam), and could it be fixed (no, it could not.) Simple questions, simple answers. Not so simple pain.

But damnet, he wasn't going to think about this!

Domon hadn't tried to comprehend Rain's pain. He couldn't. He would never know the pain of losing what she'd lost. He supposed he had lost something, Rain's inability to bear children directly affecting his ability to have any of his own as well. He would never even consider the mother of his children being anyone but Rain. Domon had tried not to think about that, though. Who was he to lament never becoming a father when the woman he loved was torn up because she'd just lost the one thing that, in her opinion, had made her a woman? Rain had lost far more than Domon had in the situation, and, in light of that, he tried not to think about what he wanted, and the pain he felt when he realized it would be forever out of his reach.

Because he could just see it in his minds eye: a little boy with his hair and Rain's eyes, staring up at him with a smile so much like his mother's. Domon could see it—hear the burst of sound flowing from the toddler's lips as he threw his head back and giggled. He imagined the boy's soft skin beneath his fingers as he touched the cheek, eyes bright and happy as he smiled at him, called him "dad."

He'd never have that, though. And it hurt.

But honestly, those things—children—were just things that he wanted. Rain was something he needed. He'd never leave her. Perhaps he always would want more—a pretty blue-eyed boy with his mother's smile—however as long as he had Rain, Domon would always be content. Because he needed her. Like breath—water. Like mercy from the Gods above. There was no way he could go on without her. And if children simply wasn't in the plan for them then damnet, that was just the way it was going to be. Because no matter how much more he wanted, Rain was enough. He thanked the Gods everyday for her, and strived hard to convince himself that they knew what they were doing.

Yet it didn't stop those selfish urges of his. Rain may be enough—for forever—but still, he wanted more. He'd always want more.

You couldn't always have what you wanted, though, and, in an effort to ensure his sanity, Domon thought of it all as a trial of endurance; the Gods testing his strength. It was all about endurance, focus. Being strong. Getting stronger. Training him to be a better person. Lover. Man. And he was determined to pass, no matter what.

His whole life revolved around different challenges, in love and friendship and life. And here he was now, facing another one of those challenges. Being away from Rain was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to face in his life. It wasn't something he was going to run away from. He hadn't run away from it. It was why he'd left her those two times before, why he'd left her this time, ten weeks ago.

It was why he was standing here, in front of the hotel where George had made their reservations. It was why he wouldn't call her, or even write. He never did. He never would. Perhaps it was mean and insensitive of him, but that was the way things had to be. Because it was all about endurance, focus. Being strong. Getting stronger.

Domon sighed, starting up the stairs of the hotel, pushing through the people bustling around the massive structure. He was training right now. Nothing else could—should—matter but that.

Of course that wasn't the case.

Domon scowled, cursing darkly to himself as he made his way to the receptions desk to retrieve the key to his room.

- - - - - - -

Love is... missing you.

- - - - - - -

TBC...

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Author's Note: Okay. So. I've been out for a while. I know. And you know, I've had this chapter like three-fourths finished since about... December. But you see, last January (the first, actually), my sister passed away. And I've been having a hard time dealing with it. I'm better now, of course, and I'm pretty content with things now. But still. Yeah.

Also, I've been getting more involved the Harry Potter fandom, which takes away from my involvement with this. It's mostly that I think my muse is finished with this story. It has been for awhile. I finished it two years ago, and now I'm writing it over because last year I was insecure and thought it totally sucked and started it over. Don't worry, I plan to follow through.

This chapter definitely wasn't worth the wait. The next two won't be worth it, either. Wait till chapter six, though. That's when they get back ;)

I haven't been keeping up with any of my friends on the net (you guys know who you are), and I'm sorry for that. I don't know when I'll get back to you guys, but I do miss you. But... there's a reason why I haven't, and maybe I'll be able to talk about it eventually. Let us hope.

I thank everyone dearly for their reviews. I see quite a few have racked up since I've updated last, and I can honestly say I'm giddy about them all. There are a few I have to respond to but... yeah, I'll get to that. Eventually :)

See you guys soon. Hopefully. And I hope you guys review.