Author's Note: Thought or Emphasis, Flashback, Thought or Emphasis in Flashback.
I don't own Samurai Jack.
Read and review.
Samurai Jack: Hello Again
A One-Shot
"Hello again."
A teenage girl stepped up to the statue.
He was simply shaped, the contours of his robe cut into the stone pillar. The only bit of complexity lie in the head, sporting a topknot, and the sword at his hip, a diamond pattern cut into the design of the sheath.
She never looked at the words below, having memorized them by now.
The Nameless Samurai, stone sculpture, 8th century Japan.
"I probably look like a nutcase talking to you, but it's not like I've got anyone else, right?"
She was alone, in the museum as she was in life.
"So, what now? Staying at the job? College? Wasting away in my apartment until I'm 40?"
She looked up at him.
"What do you think I should do?"
Only a stony stare was his reply.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." She slouched her way to the nearest bench, gazing into the Samurai's unblinking eyes. "What would you say?"
"Well, I'd say I almost feel at home here."
"YAH!" She nearly fell off the bench from shock, but recovered and turned her head left.
He was tall, slim, and appeared to be of Asian descent. He wore a nearly pristine white suit shirt and gray slacks. She would have thought him a businessman, had his ponytail, sandals, and slightly unkempt beard not convinced her otherwise.
He looks a little older than me. Is he in college or something? Grad school? A second sweep over him told her, He doesn't look too bad either… Maybe if he got a shave and a haircut?
He continued his thought, seemingly unaware of her eyes on him. "It's as if I'm coming back to an old house."
"Oh, so these are your ancient relics?" she joked. "Did you get your award for saving the world in the mail?"
"No." He shook his head with a smile. "The Samurai deserves his accolades, and so much more."
"Definitely!" She was surprised to see a true fan. Everyone else in school had laughed at the thought of the Samurai being real, but she always believed. "His true name was lost to time, but his victory will be remembered forever."
He almost applauded, "Well said."
"Oh, I just got that from the commercials!"
They both shared a chuckle.
Her gaze went distant. "I've been coming here since I was young, back when mom…" She sighed. "She told me all the stories she knew about him."
She thought back.
"The Samurai versus the Imposter, who tried to use his name but who became his student rather than fall to his sword.
"The Samurai versus the Rival from the West, the only person he never defeated. They fought on a bridge for three days and nights!
"The Samurai versus the Soul Stealer, where he dove into the magic skull that held his power, and set the trapped warrior spirits free!
"Even the Samurai versus the Women of Shadows! All of them fell to his mighty blade… all but one, who stood by his side to battle-"
"Aku."
They both stared at a stone carving under glass, where normal men suffered before a much taller creature. Horns topped its head and its mouth opened with sharp teeth.
Like the battlefield around them, the creature's eyes appeared to be on fire.
Even as a child, just getting near that image made a shiver go down her spine.
She could practically hear him laughing…
He knew the names the demon was given. "Aku, the First Evil."
"Aku, the Bane of Man." As did she.
"Aku, the Burning-Eyed Darkness."
"Aku, child of the Dark Desert."
The site of the Dark Desert, Yami no Sabaku to the natives, was a place in Japan where no man or animal could or wanted to live—some magazines called it the "Death Valley of Asia." If the legends were true, Aku had left quite the mark on the land before his defeat.
The man looked... almost satisfied. "You know the Samurai's tales quite well."
"So do you!" Her smile slightly dimmed when she stared at his statue. "I wish I was as brave as him. He found a purpose, and fulfilled it. But me?" She shrugged. "I don't know what to do with my life. It's like there's this wall in front of me blocking me from seeing what's ahead… or..."
"An army of your fears, between you and what you're meant to be."
"Yeah!" Someone finally got it! "I wish I could just jump right in and… BAM, POW, KABLAM!" Fake punches and kicks flew here and there, somehow missing the artifacts in the room; the old security guard had seen her before, and was too tired to interrupt. "You think you can take me down? HA!"
If she closed her eyes, she could visualize them.
Armored, wart-faced monsters, swarming at her at the mountain's bottom, trying to reach—
Wait, what?
The confusion, however, quickly succumbed to the dream, her body fighting on.
The man only raised his eyebrow, his amusement shifting to slight concern…
When a fist accidentally came his way.
She felt the impact of flesh upon flesh, and was back in the museum.
"OH NO! Are you okay?" Did I hit him in the face? "I'm so sorry! I was acting like some stupid kid in the middle of…"
He caught it without even blinking.
"…Oh."
"It's fine." He smiled lightly. "No harm was done."
Silence, before an awkward cough.
"Could you let go of my…"
"Right."
She felt his hand release.
"So, er…" she tried to shake off the awkwardness, "what brings you here?"
"I simply found myself here." he replied. "I guess you could call me a wanderer."
"In those shoes?"
"They're sturdier than you think!" He sounded almost indignant.
Okay, his shoes are a sore spot. "Oh, where did you come from?"
"I am Japanese."
"Me too! I'm third-generation."
"I would be of the first."
"Cool!... Um, welcome, I guess!"
"Hmm." He nodded.
Silence.
He looked distant, as stiff as the only other man in the room.
Did I offend him? She began to turn to leave, but when she stared at the statue of her hero, she felt something come over her, rooting her in place…
…as if the Samurai beckoned her to stay.
"I am alone as well."
"What?"
"I heard you say you did not have anyone else." He elaborated, "I don't either. My parents died in a fire when I was young."
"I never knew my father." Her mother had described him as a man she practically worshipped in their teen years… but he turned out to be a demon in disguise after they married. "She says she was glad to leave him, and the only good thing out of that relationship was me."
"And your mother?"
"Killed during a robbery. It was some girl with a gun, of all things. She said she didn't even mean to pull the trigger, she was just jumpy and desperate…"
She'd never forget the girl's face, pleading for forgiveness.
"…She kinda looked like me."
"I am sorry for your loss."
"I'm okay now… mostly." She recalled that Mr. Wooley, her science teacher and (as it turned out) a neighbor, offered his condolences. "But now I'm out of school, and I don't know where to go next."
The man took a moment to think.
"On my travels, I heard a saying: that your actions determine your fate."
"But what happens when your actions lead you to a dead end?" She cut in. "What happens when life puts you there? What happens when you're alone with nothing but a big, empty… blah?"
"Who told you that where you are is a dead end?"
She blinked.
"I felt the same way you did once," he continued. "When my parents left this world, I lived on the streets. My first years were… very hard." His body still bore some scars. "I thought that when my family ended, so was my life."
He looked to the sky.
"But I continued to walk, and then I found new life in the world around us. I experienced new sights, heard new stories, learned new things, and found people willing to aid me on my journey."
"Journey to where?"
"My fate."
"What fate?" She snapped back. "What if you end up working in a diner washing dishes? Or run into a biker gang? Or get lost in some forest?"
"I don't know."
He smiled.
"But that is the fun part."
She finally took notice of his backpack back at the bench, its fabric worn and its insides filled to the brim, next to it…
"…Is that a hat made of straw?"
"I weaved it myself."
She gawked.
"You're… weird."
"Yet you fight ghosts in the middle of a museum," he saw her blush, "and you believe what most of the world thinks as mere legend."
"Just like you."
She realized.
"So we're both weird!"
He laughed, a gentle tenor.
Before she knew it, an alto voiced joined him, their mirthful harmony briefly filling the room.
Their laughter died down. "So, where are you going next?"
"I met an old woman who claims to know what happened to the last Woman of Shadows. I'm having dinner with her tonight."
"REALLY!?" She clasped her hand over her mouth, remembering where she was. "Where?"
"She lives in the next town over."
"Oh."
So much for continuing the conversation.
"Would you like to join me?"
He watched her shift on her feet. "I… I couldn't."
"Why not?"
She opened her mouth, but an answer never came.
He was a stranger, but she'd never met someone like him before. She'd never given her life story to anyone before either.
But with him, it's… easy.
There was something about this man that drew the two of them together, and she wanted to know what it was.
If her idol could dive into the unknown, then so could she.
"I think I'll go with you after all."
"Great!" He nodded. "Then we can get a head start now." He pulled up his bag, and began to walk.
"You're not going to walk all the way there, are you?"
"No…" his eyes darted left, "not all of the way..."
"I'll get us a cab." Like I said, weird.
Then it came to her.
"Oh, right! All this time, I never got your name!" She put out a hand. "I'm Ashi. What's yours?"
He smiled and took it.
"They call me… Jack."
END