GW Songfic
Listen to "What a Good Boy"?

When I was born
they looked at me and said
"what a good boy,
what a smart boy,
what a strong boy,"

    I don't remember my parents, although I must have had some at some point.  Maybe 
they were the ones that had high hopes for me, and forged those hopes into the chains
that define who I am.  Good, smart, strong. . . .  perfect.  Were they the ones?  Or 
was it the one who raised me?  Or the one who formed me?  Who created this perfect 
machine?
     Call it destiny, fate, karma, what-have-you, it doesn't change the fact of what I am 
supposed to be.  The Perfect Soldier.  I was raised as a tool because it was what was 
needed.  I am more than good, more than smart, more than strong.  I try to be perfect.  
     Most days, I fail by an ever-increasing margin.
    And that is what eats at my soul, for if I were perfect . . . there'd be no mistakes.  
No innocent casulties.  No blood but that of the enemy on my hands.

And when you were born
they looked at you and said
"what a good girl, 
what a smart girl,
what a pretty girl."

     I'm sure they must have said the same kind of things about you.  If I am a tool, 
how much more so are you?  Now that you know your name, can you see the way they 
chained you with it?  All their ideals, their hopes, their dreams, all transferred to you.  
And so you must be what they wanted you to be.  
     We're both chained to the past.

We've got these chains
hangin' round our necks
people wanna strangle us with them
before we take our first breath

      Can you see how we're the same?  How the path was laid before us with no turns, 
no options, no way back?  The choices were made for us.  We never had the power or 
the strength to change what we were made to be.  
     That's why it's so important now.  Now we have the power, now we have the 
choice.  Now we are in control.  And our mistakes are our own.  Our fate is our own.  
     You knew it, that day on the beach.  You saw the way the chains could break, the 
way the future could change.  I didn't.  I couldn't see it past the suffocating mould of 
perfection.  You tried to reach, but the chains of the past were too strong.  
     So I ran, losing myself in the mission again.

Afraid of change,
Afraid of stayin' the same
when temptation calls,
we just look away.

     I am a coward, did you realize that?  True, I'll throw myself into battle, ready to 
self-destruct at any moment, if that is what the mission requires.  But that's not courage.  
That's the legacy of my perfection, my curse.  But when it comes to things I could do, 
things that aren't required. . . .  They are temptations that distract me from the mission.  I 
am . . . yes, I am /afraid/ to discover whether I can be anything more than the Perfect 
Soldier.  And I am afraid to stay in the safety of my perfect shell much longer.  
     I'm losing my humanity.
    I know some would say I never had any, but every day I see the other pilots' 
reactions to the world, I realize that I am so very different from them.  I see things in 
ways they find . . . abnormal and inhuman.  And so I keep hiding behind my perfection 
because I am afraid to learn to be like them.
     Will it hurt?  Perfection doesn't hurt.  Failure does.

This name is the hair shirt I wear
and this hair shirt is woven from your brown hair
This song is the cross that I bear; 
bear with me, bear with me, bear with me.
Be with me tonight.
I know that it isn't right.
Be with me tonight.

     I hate my name some days.  I hate the associations with its true owner.  It's yet 
another chain to the past - and not even my past.  I am not Heero Yuy.  I am a 
nameless soldier, modelled on his perfection.  Why doesn't anyone see what a joke that 
is?  I am so far from his ideals, his life, his enthusiasim.  I'm a pale mechanical shadow of 
that Heero Yuy.
     Some days I feel like a pale mechanical shadow of myself.  But then that would 
mean that I know who I am, who I should be.  
     I don't.

I couldn't tell you I was wrong.
I chickened out, took a pen and paper,
sat down and I wrote this song.
I couldn't tell you that you were right.
So instead I looked in the mirror,
I watched tv and lay awake all night.

     The others don't realize, can't even begin to guess at my motivations.  What is it Duo 
calls me?  Mr. Heero "the-mission-is- the-only-thing" Yuy.  How wrong he is.  It's not 
the mission that keeps me going.  Maybe that's how it was in the beginning, when I first 
met him, but I was wrong.  It's the lure of possibility, the hope in the future, that motivates 
me.  I want to see this world become a better place.
     I want to see your dream come true.  I can't tell you that.  Most of the time I can't 
even acknowledge it to myself.  But it's true.  I want to see peace.  And so I keep 
scanning the Net, watching the missions roll in on my laptop - not to isolate from the 
others (I know that's what they think) - but to be sure I don't miss that day, that 
declaration.  The thought that kept me awake all night.
     Peace.

We've got these chains
hangin' round our necks
people wanna strangle us with them
before we take our first breath
Afraid of change,
'fraid of stayin' the same
when temptation calls,
oh yeah yeah

     I can't take much more of this.  There won't be any place for me in the future, in 
peace, if I don't change.  But I don't know how.  Human emotion is a mystery to me.  
Feelings, emotion, they can compromise the mission.  They are something I killed a long 
time ago.  
     Or did I?  
    I feel . . . something . . . these days.  I wonder if you're alright, if you're succeeding.  
Is your dream coming true?  Dare I acknowledge that I feel hope?
     Round and round my thoughts go.  I'm not getting any closer to solving this mystery 
that is my mind, my heart, my soul.  It's driving me crazy.  How do I change?  I want to 
scream at the stars, beg them for an answer.  But I can't.  My rage, my hurt, my hope, 
they are all locked so deep inside that only the barest trickle of emotion ever reaches the surface.
     Am I cold?  How do I change?

This is name is the hair shirt I wear 
and this hair shirt is woven from 
is woven from, is woven from hair
This song is the cross that I bear
bear with me, bear with me, bear with me,
be with me tonight.
I know that it isn't right.
Just be with me tonight.

     Perhaps someday, I'll gather my courage and go to you.  That's what you want, 
right?  You're so sure of yourself.  I don't understand it.  But maybe, just maybe, you 
can help me understand myself.  If I open my heart to you some night . . . if I figure out 
how . . . can you show me?  Can you teach me to feel?  
     I've collected all my memories of you in a secret place in my heart. It's near the place 
where my emotions hide, but not quite there.  Those memories are kind of like Duo's 
cross in a way, but less tangible. They're something to look at from time to time as a 
reminder.  Even though you nearly compromised our mission a dozen times over, I've 
collected each moment in my memory.  Because you did it for your cause, for what you 
believed in.
     I want to learn to believe in something.

When I was born,
they looked at me and said:
"what a good boy,
what a smart boy,
what a strong boy."
And when you were born,
they looked at you and said:
"what a good girl, 
what a smart girl,
what a pretty girl," 
hay-e-yah.

     Enough of the past.
    Time to see what the future holds.

***owari***

Songfic © August 11th, 1999, Tavam Shaytar
"What a Good Boy" © 1992 Barenaked Ladies
Gundam Wing characters © Sotsu Agency, Bandai, etc.

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