Hello to whoever reads this (I hope it is Trowa…!). Yes, I kind of am in a good mood today, and it might be that I go off on a tangents a few times, but you just have to read it (swooning about Trowa and such…). Um, yeah... you probably know this by now, but my name is Quatre Raberba Winner. I’m a young Arabian, and the only heir of a the billionair who runs the Winner Cooperation. I am the youngest of thirty children, and I happen to be the only son. Weird, ne? However, Trowa is my boyfriend, and Trowa is soooo beautiful. See, I am going off already.
Trowa and I, we don’t fight anymore. If you read some of my other letters, you might have found out, that by fighting, we only end up hurting ourselves. But sometimes, stress overwhelms us, our school is pretty hard, and we don’t notice we are getting into a fight (not that we would fight very often, really). So, whenever one of us notices, he says ‘flowers’, and there will be a moment of silence, before we talk about it. Does that sound corny? It might be, but it absoultely works for us. Eventually the one of us feeling guilty will say sorry and explain his reasons for picking that fight, and being lovers, we of course come to a conclusion for everything. Basically, arguments are only misunderstandings anyway, which get cleared up by that. And the thing is, we get to know each other even better through this. It is through our ‘flowers’-agreement, that I found out, that Trowa mostly starts getting louder with me, because he is concerned about me and cares for my well-being. Now isn’t that cute? It’s better I know that, before I start arguing with him, and by saying ‘flowers’, he just end up telling me. He is so caring, I almost feel guilty. Why the word we chose is ‘flowers’, I’d better keep to myself.
Trowa’s care is everywhere. I care about him just as much, but I admit, nobody seems as selfless as he does. I am more than honored to be his boy of choice, but then, who else would make such a great couple, if not me and him? Oh, back to the story. Trowa’s care got even more to me clear by one incident, which started of with a fever.
When I lay on the sofa, kind of weak, and one of my sisters, Ileah, put a hand on my forehead, it somehow occurred to us, that I was not alright. You have to know, Ileah is studying to become a physician and she absolutely can tell. In that case, however, anybody could have seen I was sick (Trowa was not there, or he would have noticed it immediately) – I had a 40°C fever. For those of you who calculate in Farenheit or Kelvin – the human body’s usual temperature is 36°C and it doesn’t survive more than 42°C. If the body is heated too much, proteines change their structure and become disfunctional. (Did I mention I love biology? Sorry.) So, Ileah was alarmed (well, naturally) and packed me into bed. She couldn’t quite tell, what I had, she wasn’t that far with her studies, and called our doctor (and Trowa of course! (^,^) ).
I’m not the healthiest boy on eath, you have to know, but also not the weakest. I’m not like Heero, who never gets sick. Really, it’s a curse, I never saw him even sneeze. And my other friend, Duo… let’s say, he was confronted with mud, sick children and other sources of illnesses and bacteria, that his body is quite trained in defending itself against getting sick. Since his orphanage belongs to a church, they also used to cure people when a sickness broke out in his colony, and as far as I know, he helped a lot. And Wufei? Wufei almost seems to proud to become sick – he would never let a physician even touch him. He relies on the medicine and herbs of his culture and would rather die than relying on common school medicine. Trowa is just generally healthy, and I get my cold every winter, which I do not mind. They say, a cold every now and then cleans the body. Oh, I’m loosing track again.
One thing: You know, with my father we are 31 people in our family, and so the doctor comes to our house quite often. I have grown up with that doctor, and that is quite good. I don’t even remember a time, I didn’t know him. The family trusts his skills and so we are not uncomfortable with him around, and we all know him very well. Ileah even used to work with him for some pracitcal experience. Despite what everyone else says about physicians, I have never been uncomfortable around him.
And the evening when I was laying flat on my bed, flushed with fever, Ileah and Trowa were allowed to attend the examination, and I ended up as a living model: The doc explained to Ileah how one recognized measles before the outer marks show. You can tell, I wasn’t quite happy with that diagnosis. But that somehow explained, why I had grown so sensetive about light and preferred darkness, which was less painful. The doc gave Ileah instructions about my care, but said that he would look in on me every few days. Not that this is necessary with measles, but we are rich, you know? And being the little diamond of the family, nobody would want me to suffer more than necessary. I’m so spoiled.
I thanked the doc nicely and weakly, for the fever really brought me down. He acknowledged my weak politeness and grabbed his bag to leave, accompanied by Ileah. He had to talk to my father who had to wait in front of my door, and tell him the diagnosis. He opened the door, but did not leave yet. Instead, he turned around to me and Trowa. He gave us the most weird admonishment, speaking to us in a quite serious tone:
“And Trowa, Quatre,” he said, “for the two and a half weeks of rest, no sex, understood?”
Now that is kind of embarrassing, when you are sitting next to your boyfriend, your sister and your father stand in the door, and you happen to be only fifteen, and your doctor tells you … well … that … in front of everyone. I nodded and blushed, as much as this was possible with my fever-flushed cheeks, and I swear, Trowa’s cheeks were faintly red, too. I think all that blushing told the doc, that his admonishing was reasonable in the first place, and understood in the second.
Those two, Trowa and Ileah, cared for me for the time of my sickness. Even my father found time to look at me every now and then. After one and a half weeks, though, I started feeling much better, let the light in and started getting really bored. I eventually crawled out of bed, quite a few times, to play the violin or stand on the window and look out, or I programmed a little on the computer. Eventually, Trowa would come home from school, stop by at my house and get really angry because I wasn’t in bed as I was supposed to. He would stuff me under the blanket, talk or read to me, just to keep me occupied. As I said, he is really caring. It almost is too much, but I of course enjoyed every moment he picked me up from my window and angrily dumped me onto my bed. Of course he wasn’t really angry, just worried. Two or three times, the other guys came over, too and we played cards. They did anything to make it less boring to me, and so, it was easy for me to get well quickly.
When after two and a half weeks of staying home, the doctor did his last visit, I was back to my feet and quite eager to go to school. Before he left that day, however, Trowa required a quiet talk with him, and thye went to the bathroom for a moment. I don’t really know, but I think my dear koi asked him, whether I was, well … up to it…! They didn’t talk for long, after all, but both wore a slight grin when they left the bathroom and it made me quite suspicious.
And I won’t keep it from you. Of course, it was that night, Trowa spent at my house and nobody tried to interrupt us, when we were alone – for good reasons, and they were right. I’ll keep the details to myself, and I just say, that there is no reason to resist, when you know, someone as beautiful, lovely and caring as Trowa is there for you – in … blush … every way.
However, my oh-so-caring koi forgot to tell me, that we would write a math test the next morning. So I ended up completely unprepared, and while that wouldn’t be a problem for either Trowa or Heero, it was one for me. I could figure out some stuff on my own, but it took time, and I didn’t have that time. I scolded myself – I should have had someone bringing me the homework, since I anyway had been bored, but it had not even occurred to me. I was even more sorry for Trowa, because he saw me struggling with my test, saw the endless crossed out lines I had written, saw me staring at that sheet with an empty head, and he could not do anything about it.
I told him, it didn’t matter, and he shouldn’t blame himself for not having told me. It just was one of five math tests and I would easily balance a failure out with the other tests. Guiltily he lent me his math folder to allow me to catch up on what the class had done. It was too late for the test, but I would need it.
When I got that test back one week later, I was more or less shocked and surprised at the same time. I had hoped it wouldn’t be too bad, although it was, but was surprised that I hadn’t failed – although I hardly had passed. I excused to the teacher, explaining I had been sick and pointing out the entry in the register, but she said, if that had been the case, I should have told her before the test, now I could not repeat it. And while the teachers and my friends did not blame me in the least, someone else thought differently.
“I am supposed to sign that, Quatre?” My father was standing on the window of my room, arms crossed behind his back.
“Yes. I am sorry. I could not catch up while I was sick and did not know about the test.”
“Your friends are in the same classes, they should have told you.”
“Yes. They didn’t. That is not my fault.”
“But you could have done your homework and kept track with your classes while you were sick. As far as I saw it, you were quite energetic at the end of the two weeks. Maybe you should have put that into work.” I hate such discussions with my father. On the one hand because he is right, on the other hand because he is exaggarating. The problem is, that I understand him, so I cannot really fight back. I bet, becoming a billionair was not quite easy for him and he had to work hard for it. He of course expected me to be the same way, in the hopes that my future would be as glorious as his present. But I often have other things in my mind. I am not dumb, so I always get by easily – I never needed to work hard for school, why should I now? And I am still young and can’t put my mind onto working all the time when there are so many other interesting things.
“I know, father. I am sorry. It won’t happen again, I already collected all the things I missed and studied them… I am sorry to have disappointed you, but it is only one out of five maths tests. It’s nothing important, it is only school.”
“Only school? You are a representative, Quatre, if you take things too lightly, who knows where that will end. Your math skills and your general education are important, do you know that?” I had practically melted into something equal to a little fly which he could smash with his thumb if he wanted to.
“Yes, I know that. But if I take things to seriously, I’ll get all gloomy. I don’t think life is only work, father.”
Yes, and maybe I shouldn’t have said it. A thunderstoom broke loose after that sentence.
“Quatre! I am very disappointed by your attitude. You promise me your next tests will be better? Yes, they will, because you stay home until it is proven…” he kept on hollering for a while, and it ended in house arrest for me – and in a clear explanation that I wouldn’t see Trowa again out of school, until my marks had become better. I was furious! That was so overreacted, it wasn’t funny anymore. House arrest was fine with me, although I doubted it served any purpose, but keeping me from my love was 100 % exaggaration! But when my father’s mind is set, there is not much one can do about it, but endure. I would only have upset him further, and so I promised to myself to do the best I could, so he would loosen up soon and lighten his restrictions.
I didn’t tell Trowa the next morning. So he assumed, he would just come home with me after school, as usually, and spend the afternoon until he was needed at the circus performance in the evening, which I would attend, naturally. Seeing my Trowa balancing on a ball somewhere high above mey head usually kills my poor heart, but he looks just gorgeous in that outfit, that I can’t help smiling. Sorry, just had to mention that!
“Sorry, Trowa, but I need to go home alone,” I said when we stood on the street corner where we would have said goodbye any time when we had to part after school.
“Okay,” he seemed disturbed, but he didn’t ask. “Shall I come later, then?”
“No,” I said quietly.
“Will you call?”
I shook my head. I hated my father for all that! Trowa frowned and hesitated a moment.
“Flowers?” he asked gently, looking at me rather worriedly. He didn’t know that this had nothing to do with him. I smiled some and kissed his mouth lightly.
“Iie. This has nothing to do with you, Trowa-chan. I have got house arrest, and I am not supposed to see you until my test-points increase.”
“Isn’t that a little overreacted?! You passed, after all.”
“Not for my father. He had a hard life, all he achieved was done through hard work, you know? We have to understand his point of view. I need to go now. Bye, Trow-chan.”
He kissed me goodbye and went his way. Ow, that so hurt! Can you tell I am addicted to him? I absolutely am. And it is not only those gorgeous green eyes, the soft face and the light smile he wears so seldomly. It’s everything, because Trowa is beautiful inside and out, because I love him. People say, the first love in one’s life usually doesn’t last long and that it is only the beginning. These people have definitely never met him and me. Trowa is the world, Trowa is all, Trowa is my love and my addiction.
However, I was a good son and I studied hard. I really spent all my days with books and folders, until I had gone through every exercise I had missed over the past weeks. My father had said, should the next six tests I write turn out well, things were okay again. But having no more than one or two tests each week, that could take some time. The next two tests went by without complications. In literature I turned out to be the best in class and the computer science test was no problem at all. None of the tests are, and that is another reason, why I didn’t understand my father’s reaction. I usually don’t have problems writing good tests living my normal life, why would he want to change it to improve my test-points? After these two tests, I asked for release from my restricitons, but he remained cold-hearted. I had caught up with everything already, and I was bored. I missed Trowa like hell, and regretted every moment I was in my room on my own. It was valuable time I could have shared with him.
Strangely enough, it was my other addiction which came in hand here: tea. I love tea! The whole kitchen is stuffed with tea-leaves because of me and it smells like paradise. Of course, I made my whole family fond of it, too. So fond, that my father cannot go to sleep without having had his cup of ‘Japan Classic’, a delicately sweet one with a hint of tartness. My luck was, that we ran out of it while I was under house arrest. I am the only one in the family, who knows which was the right one, and I was very well known in the tea-shop. The owner even called me, whenever he got a new one, and asked me to try it and share my opinion about it. He promised, if I ever needed money (which definitely is not the case), I would be welcomed to work there, and I promised, if he ever needed help, I’d be there. So I was only glad to take orders from my father to run and get his favorite green tea for him.
My mind was set on the tea and the tea-shop less than it was set on the fact, that via the public phone I could call Trowa and meet up with him. And that was what I did. I called him, then quickly go the tea and waited for him at the fountain. Only a minute later my handsome, slender kurohyou came jogging up the path to embrace me. Re-unition is so good, I swear! There’s almost nothing that feels as good as cuddling in his arms, knowing he’s mine and will remain mine.. well, almost. I couldn’t stay for long, or my father would grow suspicious, but we had enough time to drink a cup of tea with the owner of the tea-shop, sitting next to each other in the cozy back of the house, holding hands. You see, Trowa and I don’t really make a secret of our relationship. In our world, it of course leads to trouble sometimes, but the people who know me, or the people who know us, know better of it and are happy with and for us. And Mr. Teishe of the tea-shop was an old, lazy man, who loved me like a son, and therefore anything I did and chose to do was perfectly fine with him; my friends were his. I’m just glad he didn’t say he’d love whatever I love, I think I would have grown very protective of Trowa (^,^).
When I was back home I was bored again. Father hadn’t noticed a thing about the meeting – how should he? – and I ended up in my room, thinking about Trowa and wondering what he might do right now. He probably was practising for the show or playing with his beloved lions, which only he really seems to be able to handle. Finally, I decided I could at least write him a letter and give it to him in school. We did not have each other close, but that didn’t mean, we had to keep away from each other in any possible way. Nobody ever said, I was not supposed to spend my time writing letters to him.
So the next morning I gave it to him, wrote an easy history test and to my surprise, I received a letter in return. The night before, Trowa had just done the same I had done. It’s funny, when two connected minds think alike. I took my treasure home and read it over several times. It didn’t say anything important, neither did mine, but it was from him to me, and that was enough to raise it’s worth ten times in my eyes. I think he overused the word ‘love’ a little, but that was kind of cute. He told me about his lions and the circus, and whatever had come in his mind as he wrote. We knew almost everything about each other, so what was he supposed to write else, then the common, new things? And I enjoyed to read what he had done all day and satisfied my noseyness.
In the night, I sneaked down to the phone, when everyone was sleeping and dialled his number. It was a little mean to call him in the middle of the night, but as I said: I am addicted. I could just hope he was as addicted to me as I was to him and wouldn’t mind. It was the director on the phone. Seemingly, he was still up. I guess someone like him had a lot of work to do. To my surprise, Trowa was up, too – at least he was dressed, when he appeared on the giant screen.
“Mizu Me,” he said happily, “I thought you weren’t supposed to call?”
“I did anyway. They’re sleeping. Did I wake you?”
“No. It’s the director’s birthday, we are celebrating. I would have invited you…”
“Daijobou. I’m sorry, I missed to tell him my gratulations.”
“Don’t be sorry about everything, I didn’t tell you, koi. I’ll wish him the best from you… It’s so great to see you, even when it’s only a screen,” Trowa said, rewarding me with a smile. I beamed back at him.
“I didn’t mean to disturb your party… ” I giggles a little.
“You know you could never disturb me. I’d rather spend my night here on the phone with you, Mizu Me, then do anything else… except maybe see you in person. How is it at home? You seemed bored, you even wrote your letter in Hiragana… that must have taken a while.”
“What else was I supposed to do? Indeed, I am really bored. This is soooo pointless. But as long as I have you on the phone, I will live with it.”
I’m not going to record that whole conversation here. Let’s just say it was very long and lasted until my ever-so-reasonable koi explained it was late and we both had to get up early. It must have been something like half past four in the morning and I had been yawning a lot, almost unhingeing my jaws. I fell into bed very tiredly but I couldn’t get enough sleep that night and was very tired the next morning. Trowa wasn’t as tired as I was, for he had been sleeping during the day. He had (reasonably) figured, the celebration for the director would last some time. He hadn’t had much of the celebration in the end – thanks to my call. Maybe I shouldn’t have called him the night before I wrote a test in Social Studies…
Uh-huh… you get the idea…
My ranking was really low on that one, and my father was more than furious with me. I am an honest person and I absolutely cannot lie to my father, so I confessed that I had called Trowa the night before. With that, I landed on a phone bill and was assured, that my house arrest would not be cut short. And I still had to hand in four good tests… I hadn’t failed the last test, because I was tired. Even a tired Quatre can bring things to paper he knows. It was pressure that had made my mind blank as I started to read the questions. I knew, how much my marks in Social Studies meant to my father, and so I felt double-guilty the day of the test. After the weekend, I confessed all of this to Trowa, more sad than ever, and excusing a million times for having been so stupid. I also told him of father’s reaction and the actual reason why I thought I had failed the test.
Trowa, being the ever astute person he is, had known that long before and started to get angry with my family. Resignedly I told him to better let it be and be patient, I would make it on my own. Well, my caring koi would have a surprise for me that night, just that I didn’t know that.
That evening, when my father was sitting with his ‘Japanese Classic’, which I had served him, being the family’s tea-cooker, the doorbell rang, and I went to open the door. My painfully-beautiful Trowa was there, waiting to be let in.
“Trowa,” I hissed harshly, “I can’t do that. I cannot sneak you up into my room or anything!”
“I came to speak to your father, Quatre-chan.”
My heart sunk into my pants at an instant! I could clearly picture the scene: Trowa Barton and Mr. Winner standing across from each other, each yelling at the other, their heads fuming, and a poor Quatre was left to watch how his life became worse any second…
“No! Impossible! You cannot talk to him!” I tried to convince him to let go of that stupid idea. I didn’t think my father would have any respect of Trowa. In his eyes, Trowa probably was the source of all my failures.
“It’s going to be alright, Mizu Me.” He hugged me confidently, and all my begging that he should please leave did not help. He came inside and politely knocked on the doorframe of the fire-place room. I recalled a scene similar to this one, where Trowa had just told my father that we were a gay couple – in the same room. In the end, things had turned out well, but it had cost me a lot of pain. The connection of Trowa, my father and the fireplace-room did not bring up any good feelings. My father was really surprised to see him, of course.
“Trowa?” he asked tonelessly.
“Yes, excuse my interruption, Mr. Winner. May I sit down?”
My father nodded. I came in as well, sitting down, without being invited to and feeling quite disturbing anfd in the wrong place.
“Thank you. I don’t mean to interrupt your few moments of rest, but I wanted to ask you something really important to me,” Trowa explained quietly. “I want to take the blame for Quatre’s failure in his math test, because I should have brought him his homework and inform him about the upcoming test. I shouldn’t have let my happiness over his convalescence interfere with my duties as his friend and classmate. I know Quatre’s education means a lot to you, which is quite reasonable.”
My father listened quietly. Who would have thought that? Trowa was quite a diplomat! He talked to my father as if he was one of the people he had business with and as if he was not sixteen but twenty-one. And all that for my sake <3 !!! I slowly gained hope, that with his careful word-choice this could lead us somewhere.
“Both of us should have cared more. We both know that the phone call wasn’t the right thing to do, and I don’t think I could explain why we didn’t think better of it. But I want to tell you, that if anybody understands you, even defends the punishment, it is Quatre. I couldn’t understand your reaction, but he kept telling me, that from your point of view, things look differently. You have gone through a lot more than we have and it is only good, that you try to pass – whatever you learned through experience – on to us. However, even though I might not have the right to critisize you, especially not because you are related to Quatre, I want to ask you to be as reasonable as he is, and learn from the younger. Try to understand our point of view, please. We are a young couple in love, and have been punished for a mistake. But we feel we have learned from it, and any further punishment seems like pure torture to us. We don’t understand your reaction as clearly as Quatre pretends he does. Learning with Heero, Duo and Wufei, who are all good students, has always brough good results, and we would like to stick to that method. I am sure, going back to the old, would help Quatre not to fail tests anymore, and he wouldn’t need to call me in the middle of the night, because he misses me so much. And because I miss him so much. I think it would all bring us less trouble, Mr. Winner, and a lot of joy. I am sorry for Quatre. He’s been running through a sickness lately, through the shock of almost failing two tests – for I know it matters a lot to him – and is at bad terms with his father. I’m his boyfriend, and I might not be able to speak about this objectively, but I think, for real, your son has been punished enough, and…” he looked down and sturggled a moment, “…me, too.”
I could almost have cried! I always said, Trowa knows what to say, whenever he speaks. And he knows how to say it, too. He had just accused my father of being very unfair but in such a respectful way, that it surely didn’t sound like it. He had seemed like the perfect diplomat in the beginning and now he was my young lover again, feeling hurt by this, as well. … And that must have reached my father: The fact, that he had not only punished me – and too much, as he found out now – but that he also had punished Trowa, which was not his right, but unpreventable. Trowa is unhappy when I am, and vice-versa. By then, my fathers hard expression had changed to mildness and my hopes had raised to the max. Seeing Trowa talking like that, seeing him talk so much was already very good, even though the subject was not of my taste, but maybe my luck would even increase.
“My apologies, Trowa,” my father said, and I began to cheer, because when he even apologizes, he must have understood that he had done a mistake. “I see your point quite clearly now, and I think it is my turn to understand. I am sorry, Quatre, I really exaggarated it. I don’t want to talk it all over, I think you know what I would say, anyway. You know me, Quatre, and I should know you better. I’ll forget about what happened and have my tea now, and you can go and enjoy the evening with Trowa. I think there’s a fair tonight.”
Trowa smiled a little. “I don’t think we will go there, Mr. Winner,” he said. “We are writing another math test tomorrow.”
“Then you can go tomorrow, I guess.” Father smiled back nicely and I tucked on Trowa’s sleeve.
“Let’s go and study, then,” I said, not really intending to. I thanked my father and Trowa followed me out of the room. I silently closed the door, leaving my father to his evening and tea.
“Study?” Trowa asked.
“No,” I said and kissed him deeply and passionately, before we went .. um… to study in my room. But I won’t tell you what (^,^).
I love you, Trowa.