Hind sight is always 20/20

This story takes place after Lynn-Kyle and Minmai leave each other. Lynn-Kyle turned from Minmai, the pain that he felt to the bottom of his soul, barely viewable on his face. "How could I be such a fool!" He wanted to yell it out to nobody, he wanted to run screaming. But in the end he did what he always did, buried the pain deep down were it would keep him safe. His years of training making it easy to put the mask back in place. Only his eyes betrayed anything, they where colder, if that was possible. Looking back he could see it all so clear, hind sight was always this way. From the little games they would play growing up, ‘flirting’. What was it that she said? when like a ghost she had shown up at her family restaurant, when everyone had been declared dead on Macross island? “You don’t have any girl friends do you? I might get jealous if you do! I might get jealous if you do! I might get jel...” her voice echoing over and over, in his mind. Oh to be able to stop the voices. But how could one man compete with a ship load of lovers? Everyone loved Minmai. It was a fact! Even the aliens loved her, they had given up everything for her. Offering there existence as a sacrifice to there new found saviour, or goddess. She would stand there soaking it all in, accepting it as her due. It just wasn't fair, he could almost sympathize with Rick, almost understand... But no he didn't want to, he looked down at the half empty bottle he carried, had he drank so much of it already? Looking up at his surroundings, how far had he walked, where was he going. "Anywhere away from that girl..." he whispered out loud. His voice sounding distant in his own ears. "Where did it all go wrong?" He knew no answers were forthcoming. “The military did this! Everything that I held dear has changed or been destroyed. My feelings, my family, my life!” He was thinking again of the flight from Minmai’s parents home to see his long lost parents on SDF-1. The events, playing like watching a TV show, but better, as if he could still almost reach out and touch her. The smell of Minmai’s hair still in his nostrils. The warmth from her body as she had cuddled him in the crampt confines of the small two-seater fan-jet. A chill suddenly washed over him, he pulled his coat tighter around himself, trying to drive the cold from himself. It seemed like so long ago. “Sigh.” Then there was the kiss, a simple little kiss. She had looked so scared after the Zentraedi had attacked the theatre. “How we could have survived, only God could know.” He had looked into those eyes, those beautiful big eyes. Feeling separated from the surreal moment as she told him off. Part of him shrivelling in that moment. The moment of vulnerability, planting the seeds of anger that would sprout into a tree of despair and hatred. It was all so plain now, Minmai couldn’t love one man. Not when there was thousands of adoring fans. He had only been deluding himself that there could be more to there relationship. She had only so much love and she gave it all to her fans, spreading it like a thin blanket covering everyone. She didn’t have anything left to be close to. The bottle was again pressed to his lips. His dry tongue waiting for the liquid that would deliver him to a forgetful oblivion that he new so well. But there was nothing left. “When did I finish this?” He threw the now empty bottle against a broken wall, smashing it amongst the rubble. Reaching in his coat he pulled out a new one. It’s amber liquid sloshing within the opaque flask. Unstopping the top, he put the rim to his lips and drank deeply, the warming liquid burning slightly as it went down his dry throat. But there had been more kisses, the one in the movie. Not much to talk about. There had been so many takes it had hardly felt real. That’s the movies for you. But then there had been the one that had been broadcast to the aliens. Somehow more important, more passionate, with the end of civilization at stake. But now he had to share her with two nations, not just one and it was the military that had brought about that. He looked out at the desolation that surrounded him as far as his eyes could see. “We won! Ha ha ha ha…” His voice sounding hollow in the quite evening, as it echoed of the remnants of the small town. “How stupid everyone else had been. “ A half smile playing across his face. “Just look what we won!” Heavily he sat down in the door way of a building that still offered some shelter from the elements and proceeded to finish the bottle in his hand. He sat there watching as the first rain drops started to fall, striking the parched earth, sending up small dust clouds every time a another one struck. “…Look what we won,” He whispered. “At least I was right about that. Hunter and the rest of them can enjoy eating their ashes.” As suddenly as the rain had started, it slowed and then stopped again. As if the gods where just teasing the earthlings, the ground looking as dry as it had before the rain had started. No, dryer, he thought, with the rains disappearance hope for a rebirth went with it. Lynn-Kyle tried to stand up on wobbly legs, looking around him not being able to focus on any one thing. It felt as if he was riding a top and there was nothing to hang onto. He fell to the ground on hands and knees, retching the contents of his abused stomach on the parched ground. He rolled over, deciding that moving was far overrated and something that could be put of for another day. He closed his eyes waiting for the blessed sleep to take him. But it wouldn’t come, his mind still playing over and over the past few years. Until the drunken stopper finally consumed him and he drifted into a restless sleep. The next morning found Lynn-Kyle in the doorway, still cradling last nights finished bottle in his arms. He took in his surroundings, looking around at the broken burnt out buildings. A small potted plant valiantly trying to reclaim a world gone mad, lay on it’s side. A single leaf mostly, withered, reaching to the sky, in a prayer of supplication for rain. It’s broken pot leaving it unprotected to the wind that constantly blew through the deserted streets. Kyle reached out to touch this struggling bit of life. ‘How like me is this plant?’ he thought. “It’s like my soul, dry and brittle. Starving for love that is denied me.” He said this out loud, to hear a voice any voice. Almost to prove that he still had the ability to communicate. Was this madness? As he moved his hand from the plant the tiny leaf that barely hung onto existence finally gave up and dropped lazily to the ground. The impact on the ground was like a thousand explosions running through his fuzzy mind. He stooped down and gently cradled the tiny thing to his chest. A single tear striking the dry leaf, splashing and then streaming of the stem. “I will not become like this, I will not die alone.” Kyle took out his bill fold from his breast pocket, opened it and placed the leaf reverently inside, then he returned it to his pocket again. He bent over and picked up the now empty bottle from the night before, feeling the smooth glass in his hands. Scooping some of the sandy soil with his hands he placed the bottle in the depression he had created and proceeded to cover up the bottle. Picking up some rocks he placed them over the spot eventually raising a small cairn. He then turned his back on last nights camp and started walking again. This time with more resolve, still not having a true direction. But at least having the renewed desire to live another day. Minmai or not, he was not going to live with her ghost, he was going to make a difference and show the military it hadn’t seen the last of him.