Here we are. It's a little on the short-side, but expected nonetheless.
During my week of recovery, Yakage taught me the basics. He was
pleased that I already knew what he thought of as the elementary
essentials – metallurgy, chemistry, physics, and how the three
played together. Once he assessed my knowledge there, we quickly
moved onto a crash course in high-energy physics and exotic
particles. I threw myself into it and Yakage was quietly pleased.
After Washu implanted the new heart and gave me a bit of physical
rehabilitation, though, the first thing Yakage had me do was to build
a proper smithy in my C-Space.
The thing about forging blades is that while it is very dangerous,
strenuous, and painstaking work... it produces an end product that
has been heat-treated to a magnificent degree. Granted, you can take
a piece of metal that has already been forged and shave it all away
until you have a sword... but there are other things to consider,
like the grain of the metal. (This is why in automobile engines
forged cranks are far superior to machined ones.)
I could write an article here and now about what I learned... but
that's not what I'm doing, and that's not why you're reading this.
Simply put, Yakage started teaching me to make swords. And I took to
it like a fish to water. I weathered the heat of the forge as I
learned to work metal while it was hot. I learned, up close and
personally, how different metals behaved when they were heated,
molded, beaten, cooled and reheated over and over again.
Minagi and Sasami would watch in their spare time after bringing us
lunches, fascinated by the entire process. At times, the others
would come to witness this new art form that had come to our home.
The process had a hypnotic quality to it not unlike a runner's high.
There would be times when I would get lost in it, seeing nothing but
the steel I was working, heating and folding again and again and
again. Hours would pass like this and I would feel no real sign of
fatigue or hunger until I finally stepped back to admire my work.
And then it would hit me and I would all but pass out.
Yakage was a bit shocked himself, but in the end he found it to be
utterly satisfactory. At these times, he would give me a day to
recover my energy, but he would also spend it filling my mind with
the knowledge of energy blades – the types, classifications, how
they worked, what they did, and how to create them.
Most fascinating of all was the Lighthawk Sword – a piece of matter
transmuted by a Lighthawk Wing – broken down into the meanest
components of matter and energy, and reformed into a blade that stood
with no rival. It would cut anything and defeat any defense, save
for another construct made with a Lighthawk Wing.
And Yakage pushed me as hard as he could. All my other training was
forsaken as he worked furiously to cram as much knowledge down my
throat as he could. My days would end with me tired and sore, so
Minagi would carefully help me bathe, viciously attack the developing
knots in my muscles, and then contently curl up with me in my bed.
If that isn't love, then I don't know what is.
I knew this wouldn't last... but I still wish it had lasted longer
than it did.
It happened two months after Yakage had taken me on as his student.
The day after I had finally forged a blade he deemed acceptable as a
serviceable weapon. It was as though, like Charles Schultz after he
penned his final Peanuts comic, Yakage had decided that he'd done
what he could, and passed away peacefully in his sleep.
From what I could remember, he seemed happier than even Minagi could
remember. He was at peace and even laughed with everyone else at the
dinner table, enjoying the fine food Sasami had made that night. We
were having Tonkatsu with homemade ginger sauce to celebrate my
achievement that night. Yakage was honestly pleased with me. And
then we had a few drinks and went to bed, our heads gently buzzing
like our lightened hearts.
And in the morning, Yakage did not wake up again. He simply laid
there in state, a small, satisfied smile on his face. In one
timeline, he died violently, but satisfied. Here, thanks to me, he
died peacefully, yet still satisfied.
I don't think I could ever eat Tonkatsu again, not without
remembering that bittersweet memory.
Of course, this meant one other thing...
The lake was so still that evening that it looked like polished
glass. Hinase was a pristine carving that sat on the surface,
making not a single ripple. A mortician that Yosho knew prepared the
body for its departure in the Japanese fashion. Yakage had his final
bath and shave, was carefully dressed, and finally encoffined. Yosho
gave the final rights.
Minagi quietly wept the whole time. The only words that I could get
from her were,
“I have to take him back... I have to bring him to the place he was
happiest at. It's the only place he can truly rest.”
And so, once everything had been said and done, and the coffin was
aboard Hinase, Minagi and I were left alone to say our
goodbyes out on the boardwalk.
“So... this is it, then,” I said softly as the sun began to hang
low in the sky. “But, you're coming back, right?”
“I don't know... Garrick, please don't misunderstand me... but
I... I'm different from how I used to be. Even though I have my
memories... I need to find out who I am... and I don't know if I
could do that with someone telling me, no matter how well intentioned
they are.” I gave Minagi a shocked look since I never really told
her what I saw in her – just that she seemed more like the Real
Minagi as opposed to the programmed one.
Minagi caught the look and gave me a sad smile. “Don't worry. You
didn't really mean it. At least you never said anything about it.
But I can see what it is you would like me to be, Garrick,” she
said as she gently caressed my face, that smile never leaving her
lips. “A wife... and a mother... I love you, Garrick, for
everything you have done for me... but I don't know if I am ready for
that.”
“I'm sorry...” I said softly.
“Oh Garrick! You sweet silly man!” cried Minagi, exasperated and
amused at once. “You never forced the issue. You never even
asked. You just let me be free to do as I wished. The only time you
ever stopped me from doing anything was our first night together.”
“I... did?” I asked, a bit clueless.
Minagi smiled. “You didn't intend it, but you did. You put your
arm around me... and kept me from running when Ryoko showed up. And
I am so happy you did because you showed me that you would accept
me... even though I tried to kill you and Tenchi.”
“I... just wanted you to see... we really do care about you.”
“I know you do Garrick. But I have to go. Please, let me go.”
I sighed heavily. Minagi had to do this. She must. She needed the
time to come to realize who she really was. And that meant not
having anyone looking over her shoulder and trying to suggest what
she ought to do.
With no other choice, I pulled Minagi into a tight embrace.
“I'm going to miss you,” I whispered to her.
“Me too. Will you wait for me?”
“Tsunami herself couldn't keep me.”
“I'll hold you to that, Garrick Grimm.”
Slowly, reluctantly, we let each other go, our fingertips slipping
apart last as though we had been clinging together like our lives
depended on it. Minagi gave me one last sad, tearful smile, then
teleported into Hinase. The ship lifted off gently, at last
disturbing the water as it did so, and as it lifted off it began to
fade from view as the Storming Field came on line to hide it from
prying eyes and radars.
I was outside on the board walk for a very long time afterwards.
In the end, I came to realize that while I had set out to try and
circumvent some of the pain that would come, I had instead brought it
all upon myself and Minagi.
I felt like such a heel.
Eventually, I got
over it. My newfound family would not let me feel sorry for myself.
Especially not Sasami-chan. The effort she put into lifting my
spirits always made me wonder about her true feelings... but I would
always just chalk it up to her place in the grand scheme of things.
With everyone's
help, though, I bounced back and things returned to normal. The one
exception being now that Yosho and Ayeka felt I was proficient enough
in the etiquette of the Royal Household and the political system, my
education in swordsmithing took that lesson's place in my routine.
Washu, being the
cagey sort she was, convinced Yakage to donate his memory engrams so
she could create an educational program for me.
I had to admit, it
took some getting used to. Not because it looked just like him. Far
from it, in fact – it presented itself as a blue-colored amorphous
man-shaped figure roughly the same size as Yakage had been... but as
dull and featureless as a department store mannequin. The only way
for it to emote was through its voice, and even that was a somewhat
tinny sounding replica of Yakage's own voice, as though it had been
recorded on a cheap microphone – the sort that used to come with a
personal computer as a gimmick.
Washu was very
specific about its capabilities. The construct had Yakage's
memories. It could perform some advanced problem solving using his
knowledge. It could even suggest a few ideas based on what it knew.
But its long-term
memory was immutable. It never learned and never changed. It was
hardly even self-aware. While it could help me with a research
topic, there lay the extent of its capabilities.
Essentially, it was
like a holocron from Star Wars.
That hadn't been
Washu's intention, but that's what we had. Regardless, I was
grateful for it. With it, I would eventually gain the mastery that
Yakage had desired for me.
Come hell or high
water, I will make that man proud of me.
During my week of recovery, Yakage taught me the basics. He was
pleased that I already knew what he thought of as the elementary
essentials – metallurgy, chemistry, physics, and how the three
played together. Once he assessed my knowledge there, we quickly
moved onto a crash course in high-energy physics and exotic
particles. I threw myself into it and Yakage was quietly pleased.
After Washu implanted the new heart and gave me a bit of physical
rehabilitation, though, the first thing Yakage had me do was to build
a proper smithy in my C-Space.
The thing about forging blades is that while it is very dangerous,
strenuous, and painstaking work... it produces an end product that
has been heat-treated to a magnificent degree. Granted, you can take
a piece of metal that has already been forged and shave it all away
until you have a sword... but there are other things to consider,
like the grain of the metal. (This is why in automobile engines
forged cranks are far superior to machined ones.)
I could write an article here and now about what I learned... but
that's not what I'm doing, and that's not why you're reading this.
Simply put, Yakage started teaching me to make swords. And I took to
it like a fish to water. I weathered the heat of the forge as I
learned to work metal while it was hot. I learned, up close and
personally, how different metals behaved when they were heated,
molded, beaten, cooled and reheated over and over again.
Minagi and Sasami would watch in their spare time after bringing us
lunches, fascinated by the entire process. At times, the others
would come to witness this new art form that had come to our home.
The process had a hypnotic quality to it not unlike a runner's high.
There would be times when I would get lost in it, seeing nothing but
the steel I was working, heating and folding again and again and
again. Hours would pass like this and I would feel no real sign of
fatigue or hunger until I finally stepped back to admire my work.
And then it would hit me and I would all but pass out.
Yakage was a bit shocked himself, but in the end he found it to be
utterly satisfactory. At these times, he would give me a day to
recover my energy, but he would also spend it filling my mind with
the knowledge of energy blades – the types, classifications, how
they worked, what they did, and how to create them.
Most fascinating of all was the Lighthawk Sword – a piece of matter
transmuted by a Lighthawk Wing – broken down into the meanest
components of matter and energy, and reformed into a blade that stood
with no rival. It would cut anything and defeat any defense, save
for another construct made with a Lighthawk Wing.
And Yakage pushed me as hard as he could. All my other training was
forsaken as he worked furiously to cram as much knowledge down my
throat as he could. My days would end with me tired and sore, so
Minagi would carefully help me bathe, viciously attack the developing
knots in my muscles, and then contently curl up with me in my bed.
If that isn't love, then I don't know what is.
I knew this wouldn't last... but I still wish it had lasted longer
than it did.
It happened two months after Yakage had taken me on as his student.
The day after I had finally forged a blade he deemed acceptable as a
serviceable weapon. It was as though, like Charles Schultz after he
penned his final Peanuts comic, Yakage had decided that he'd done
what he could, and passed away peacefully in his sleep.
From what I could remember, he seemed happier than even Minagi could
remember. He was at peace and even laughed with everyone else at the
dinner table, enjoying the fine food Sasami had made that night. We
were having Tonkatsu with homemade ginger sauce to celebrate my
achievement that night. Yakage was honestly pleased with me. And
then we had a few drinks and went to bed, our heads gently buzzing
like our lightened hearts.
And in the morning, Yakage did not wake up again. He simply laid
there in state, a small, satisfied smile on his face. In one
timeline, he died violently, but satisfied. Here, thanks to me, he
died peacefully, yet still satisfied.
I don't think I could ever eat Tonkatsu again, not without
remembering that bittersweet memory.
Of course, this meant one other thing...
The lake was so still that evening that it looked like polished
glass. Hinase was a pristine carving that sat on the surface,
making not a single ripple. A mortician that Yosho knew prepared the
body for its departure in the Japanese fashion. Yakage had his final
bath and shave, was carefully dressed, and finally encoffined. Yosho
gave the final rights.
Minagi quietly wept the whole time. The only words that I could get
from her were,
“I have to take him back... I have to bring him to the place he was
happiest at. It's the only place he can truly rest.”
And so, once everything had been said and done, and the coffin was
aboard Hinase, Minagi and I were left alone to say our
goodbyes out on the boardwalk.
“So... this is it, then,” I said softly as the sun began to hang
low in the sky. “But, you're coming back, right?”
“I don't know... Garrick, please don't misunderstand me... but
I... I'm different from how I used to be. Even though I have my
memories... I need to find out who I am... and I don't know if I
could do that with someone telling me, no matter how well intentioned
they are.” I gave Minagi a shocked look since I never really told
her what I saw in her – just that she seemed more like the Real
Minagi as opposed to the programmed one.
Minagi caught the look and gave me a sad smile. “Don't worry. You
didn't really mean it. At least you never said anything about it.
But I can see what it is you would like me to be, Garrick,” she
said as she gently caressed my face, that smile never leaving her
lips. “A wife... and a mother... I love you, Garrick, for
everything you have done for me... but I don't know if I am ready for
that.”
“I'm sorry...” I said softly.
“Oh Garrick! You sweet silly man!” cried Minagi, exasperated and
amused at once. “You never forced the issue. You never even
asked. You just let me be free to do as I wished. The only time you
ever stopped me from doing anything was our first night together.”
“I... did?” I asked, a bit clueless.
Minagi smiled. “You didn't intend it, but you did. You put your
arm around me... and kept me from running when Ryoko showed up. And
I am so happy you did because you showed me that you would accept
me... even though I tried to kill you and Tenchi.”
“I... just wanted you to see... we really do care about you.”
“I know you do Garrick. But I have to go. Please, let me go.”
I sighed heavily. Minagi had to do this. She must. She needed the
time to come to realize who she really was. And that meant not
having anyone looking over her shoulder and trying to suggest what
she ought to do.
With no other choice, I pulled Minagi into a tight embrace.
“I'm going to miss you,” I whispered to her.
“Me too. Will you wait for me?”
“Tsunami herself couldn't keep me.”
“I'll hold you to that, Garrick Grimm.”
Slowly, reluctantly, we let each other go, our fingertips slipping
apart last as though we had been clinging together like our lives
depended on it. Minagi gave me one last sad, tearful smile, then
teleported into Hinase. The ship lifted off gently, at last
disturbing the water as it did so, and as it lifted off it began to
fade from view as the Storming Field came on line to hide it from
prying eyes and radars.
I was outside on the board walk for a very long time afterwards.
In the end, I came to realize that while I had set out to try and
circumvent some of the pain that would come, I had instead brought it
all upon myself and Minagi.
I felt like such a heel.
Eventually, I got
over it. My newfound family would not let me feel sorry for myself.
Especially not Sasami-chan. The effort she put into lifting my
spirits always made me wonder about her true feelings... but I would
always just chalk it up to her place in the grand scheme of things.
With everyone's
help, though, I bounced back and things returned to normal. The one
exception being now that Yosho and Ayeka felt I was proficient enough
in the etiquette of the Royal Household and the political system, my
education in swordsmithing took that lesson's place in my routine.
Washu, being the
cagey sort she was, convinced Yakage to donate his memory engrams so
she could create an educational program for me.
I had to admit, it
took some getting used to. Not because it looked just like him. Far
from it, in fact – it presented itself as a blue-colored amorphous
man-shaped figure roughly the same size as Yakage had been... but as
dull and featureless as a department store mannequin. The only way
for it to emote was through its voice, and even that was a somewhat
tinny sounding replica of Yakage's own voice, as though it had been
recorded on a cheap microphone – the sort that used to come with a
personal computer as a gimmick.
Washu was very
specific about its capabilities. The construct had Yakage's
memories. It could perform some advanced problem solving using his
knowledge. It could even suggest a few ideas based on what it knew.
But its long-term
memory was immutable. It never learned and never changed. It was
hardly even self-aware. While it could help me with a research
topic, there lay the extent of its capabilities.
Essentially, it was
like a holocron from Star Wars.
That hadn't been
Washu's intention, but that's what we had. Regardless, I was
grateful for it. With it, I would eventually gain the mastery that
Yakage had desired for me.
Come hell or high
water, I will make that man proud of me.