This is a story that I have published here before but am now publishing as a one shot. I do not own Codename: KND
Everyone knew that she was the youngest. It was simply a fact, and no one really thought about it. Until… "Numb- Abby. It's time."
"Abby loves ya'll."
She couldn't believe it at first. Numbuh 5 would never forget them. Abby would walk out of there and be exactly the same. No machine could ever erase their friendship.
"What are you dweebs staring at me for? I'm out of here."
And that's when her life changed. It suddenly was horrible or wonderful, never in-between. The deadline of her birthday became real. Too real. She had six months, and her friends had less than that. Abby - Numbuh 5 – had no time left. The girl who knew all her secrets, one of her best friends, the calm, collected girl she knew – was gone. The person standing in front of her was not Numbuh 5. She was just a cheap imitation.
"C'mon, we'll walk you home," Hoagie finally mustered up the courage to say. And they did. But it was less like a walk and more of a funeral march.
Numbuh 1 was next, a week later. He arrived the day of his birthday, and was given a party as large as Maurice's had been. Every kid in the Kids Next Door was there for his decommissioning. As they sat waiting for the inevitable, Hoagie asked a question they were all thinking. "Why didn't you run from the decommissioning squad? You're the best operative in the world! Escaping would be easy!" Although they would never admit it, they all hoped that he had a plan to escape. They hadn't seen him in years. Soon they never would again.
"Yes, it would be easy to escape," agreed Numbuh 1, "But I couldn't evade the decommissioning squad forever. I would have to join the teenagers- and that is one thing that I will never be willing to do." With this, he took off his sunglasses and set them on the table. "These are for the next leader of Sector V. Goodbye." And he was led off into the decommissioning chamber.
Numbuh 1's decommissioning didn't bother her as much as Numbuh 5's had. Perhaps it was because she was still so fresh from the pain of losing Numbuh 5 that she just didn't have room for any more sadness. Or perhaps it was because she had not seen Numbuh 1 in so long; he was almost a stranger already.
Whatever the reason, one thing that Numbuh 1 said was fixed into her mind. The teenagers were going to try to recruit her friends, and it was up to her to stop them.
She woke up feeling wonderful. It was a beautiful day, there were pancakes for breakfast, and every last rainbow monkey was accounted for. But a sudden memory made it seem like the world was making fun of her. It should have been storming. There should have been soggy toast for breakfast. All her rainbow monkeys should have been gone. Well, not that. But no one should have been happy at all that day, because it was Wally's birthday.
"Happy birthday," she whispered. Why did she feel like she was about to get sick? And why were her eyes so blurry? She had not cried for the others, and she would not cry now. Crying's for babies anyway. "So you're not running away either?"
"Thought 'bout it, but nah. Numbuh 1's right. I ain't joining no cruddy teenagers," he replied. She wished he would run. She wanted to shout at him, to make him run and hide and never leave them. She couldn't do that; Wally would never listen. Wally doesn't hide from things. And so he went in, and came out. She almost believed, for a second, that nothing had changed.
Suddenly his eyes flicked up and met hers. Then he looked back down. That's when she knew, without a doubt, that it wasn't him. It wasn't her Wally.
"mumble mumble"
"What was that?" she asks.
"MUMBLE MUMBLE" came a slightly louder mumble.
"What?" she leaned in closer.
"Please get me out of here. I am uncomfortable with all of these people staring at me."
"Yes, of course," she and Hoagie brought Wally home and went back to the treehouse. She plopped down onto the couch and turned on the wrestling championships. She would never admit it, but Hoagie swore that he heard a sound suspiciously like crying.
Now it was just her and Hoagie in that big treehouse. The newbies would come after he left and then she'd teach them. Hoagie tried to comfort her. He reminded her that in all likelihood their little group of misfits would still be friends. "Besides, the decommissioning machine isn't perfect. A good bump to the head and you might remember everything." But she knew that his words were empty. If the decommissioning machine ever had been faulty, that was before Hoagie himself had added some modifications. Now it was foolproof.
All too soon Hoagie's birthday came, and it was time to say goodbye. "Bye Kuki. It sure was fun," he said, as if he had resigned himself to his fate long ago.
"What's this thing doing on my head? And what are you brats doing here? Shouldn't you be doing my chores or something?"
And so she was alone. At first she tried to numb her feelings, but then she realized that she couldn't do that. How was it fair to her friends, if she, the only one left, chose not to care? Even the newbies, in awe of sector V's already developing legend, didn't actually know them. They didn't really care to even to get to know her; why would they, when knowing the real kid behind the story makes the story seem kind of... dull?
Being the youngest was horribly wonderful. It was wonderful because she got to train the new sector V. It was horrible because she couldn't seem to stop comparing them with the old one. It was wonderful because she could remember her friends. It was horrible because they could not remember her. It was wonderful because she could prevent her friends from becoming the people they hated. It was horrible because there would be no one left to help her. It was wonderful because they were already legends. It was horrible because they would never know.
So now, finally, finally, it was her turn. She had considered running. She was sure everyone did at some point. But what, exactly, would be the point of her running? She would run only to remember her friends, but what would be the point in that if they can't remember her? Perhaps, if fate is kind, she will find them again.
She squares her shoulders and sets down her rainbow monkey. It's time to grow up. She has to accept that no one will remember those stolen moments with Wally, the times she actually beat Hoagie at chess, or her random rainbow monkey tea parties with Abby. Those things seem almost inconsequential in the great scheme of things, and perhaps they always were. She doesn't really need to remember; she just needs to be remembered. She has no one to say goodbye to, and it is time.
The auditorium erupts as the last member of Sector V walks across the stage. She walks with a quiet confidence that those who know her will tell you has always been inside her, but has never publicly been seen. A gasp of shock rises from the crowd when they see that her ever present rainbow monkey has disappeared. They proceed with the cutting of the cake and she enters the decommissioning chamber. An impromptu moment of silence occurs when the youngest member of Sector V is replaced by Kuki Sanban. The last of the great Sector V is gone, vanquished by the only enemy kids cannot stop: time.
-Books4ever7
