Xenogears: Looking Outside In

by Ankh're

	The view from the window never changed, really.  Sometimes a few
little birds flew past, sometimes there was a wisp of clouds or the gleam
of metal; but in the main, the window's picture never changed.

	And that was just the way he wanted it.

	He was quite content to stay tucked away within the cabin-room,
forgotten by most and ignored by the rest.  It was only fitting, after all;
he never really mattered much anyway.  If only it didn't have to hurt...

	Flinging himself across the rumpled bed, he ran his fingers through
his soft hair and rolled over, so that he could catch his reflection in the
mirror hung over the desk.  Normally the jacket from his old uniform would
be flung over the mirror, obscuring it, but it had once again fallen across
the desk and now the silvered glass was in plain sight -- as was the image
it held.

	Not for the first time, he studied -- critically, almost bitterly --
his own appearance.  Pale ivory hair matched by the odd milky paleness of
his skin; amber eyes.  A combination impossible, even amongst the fair,
blonde race he was supposedly part of.  Features too symmetrical, too
perfectly balanced, to be normal.

	Or to be human.

	But that didn't make him perfect, oh no.  He was flawed, a failed
project, useful only as brute firepower or for her amusement.  So why
was he still alive?

	Because they wanted him to be.  He was still of some use to them.

	He squeezed his eyes closed against the wave of pain the thought
caused, even though he had lived with it all his life.  His hands curled
into fists, clenching tightly onto the bedclothes, as he fought the red
rage down again.  There was no point to anger anymore; anger had never
done anything but add to the ever-growing proof of his imperfection.
Better the acceptance, however bitter.  Better to wait until someone
remembered him again.

	Did they realize how much the time they spent with him mattered?
How he clutched each moment close, as something to hoard against the
isolation of the cabin room?  Too much had changed; they had other
concerns now, be they children, or each other.

	It hurt, but he would find a way to live with the hurt; never once
had they ever caused him pain deliberately.  Not after he had tried to
remove the cause of his pain with the quick strike of a sword...

	...even though even that act had failed, just like everything else.

	So he would stay tucked away in his rooms, like the artificial womb
which he remembered first of all, and wait until they decided they needed
him again.

	Slowly opening stinging eyes, he glanced towards the heavy blade
hung over the mirror.  It would be so easy...but against all sense and
logic, they wanted him to stay.  So he did.

	Not for the first time, he considered leaving his quarters and
joining someone, anyone else -- and not for the first time, he dismissed
it with a cold stab of fear.  No.  There wasn't going to be another chance
for them to drive him off or cast him away.  If they wanted him, they came
for him...and sometimes, they stayed just long enough to keep the nightmares
away.

	It was the best thing that had ever happened, really.  There was no
reason to force it to end.