a/n: Well, here we are again—/shot
Yes, this is the sequel to Not Quite a Triumph, set to the tune of Want You Gone, the ending song to Portal 2. If you haven't heard the song, I recommend hunting it down on Youtube. It's probably a good idea to read Not Quite a Triumph first—this references events that occurred there.
Characters are not mine, song is not mine, yadayadayada. This is posted in honor of Switzerland's birthday, which is today, August 1st. Li is, again, Hong Kong. Feedback is appreciated but not required.
Well, here we are again. It's always such a pleasure.
Kiku examined his little brother, Li. So Yao had decided he wanted his first android back?
Such a pity he had no intention of ever returning. He liked his life in the human world—humans were confusing, but in a good way, like a difficult puzzle. Figuring out how to act like one was a challenge.
Remember when you tried to kill me twice?
Besides, it wasn't like Yao had anything to offer Kiku. He probably just wanted to strip the android for parts or similar.
Oh, how we laughed and laughed, except I wasn't laughing.
Being Yao's little brother had had its moments—Yao had always been kind, and there was always some new challenge for him. However, he didn't like the way Yao treated him like a trophy whenever they left the laboratory. "This is my little brother, Kiku," he would say, presenting the android to whoever they met and talked with. It got a little…grating, after a while.
Under the circumstances I've been shockingly nice.
"Please come home, Kiku," Li said. "Yao misses you."
Kiku restrained himself from doing something stupid and held onto the polite façade he worked so hard to maintain. "You can tell him I'm not coming home."
You want your freedom? Take it. That's what I'm counting on.
Kiku didn't know why Yao bothered sending Li after him. Kiku had left—Yao clearly didn't accept that, but Kiku wished he would. He only wanted to be left alone, to live as a human in the human world.
I used to want you dead but now I only want you gone.
He wondered if perhaps he should have tried harder to make sure Yao was dead, when he'd left. If he had, then Li wouldn't be here now, begging for him to come home.
"Please go away, Li," Kiku said, turning away. "I don't want anything to do with either of you."
She was a lot like you (maybe not quite as heavy).
Li looked a lot like Yao—same dark hair and eyes, same slim build. Li's eyebrows were a lot thicker than Yao's, but other than that, they were very similar in appearance.
"Kiku, please," Li repeated.
"No," Kiku said again.
Now little Caroline is in here too.
Kiku wondered how closely Yao had watched over Li's personality programming. Given his failure to keep control of Kiku, it seemed reasonable to assume that it was pretty closely.
One day they woke me up so I could live forever.
The very first thing in his memory banks was being activated for the first time. There was nothing before that—not darkness, not void, just—nothing.
He knew that, as an android, he would never age or die, not unless someone permanently deactivated him. He thought that perhaps death was like the time before activation—nothing at all.
It's such a shame the same will never happen to you.
Yao was human, though—one day, he would die. He would only survive in Kiku's and Li's memories and in the science texts, as the one who brought machinery to life. That, in its own way, was a kind of immortality, Kiku supposed.
You've got your short, sad life left. That's what I'm counting on.
Yao couldn't chase him forever. In a way, that reassured Kiku—just wait a few decades and the problem would fix itself. He would be free, to live as a human in the human world.
I'll let you get right to it, now, I only want you gone.
"Li," said Kiku, as gently as possible, "please just go home. Tell Yao to give up on me. He should devote his time to things that are more likely to return his interest."
Li swallowed. He didn't have to, being an android, but sometimes it was nice to follow tradition. "I was told to bring you home."
"You don't always have to obey orders," said Kiku.
Goodbye, my only friend—oh, did you think I meant you?
"I'm living, now—I have human friends, people who know me," he continued. "It's nice, being free."
"You're lying to them, then, if you've told them you're human," Li accused calmly, his voice and expression blank.
That would be funny if it weren't so sad.
Kiku smiled bitterly. "I have never told them I was human. They have never asked."
"But they think you're human," Li pressed.
"Probably," Kiku allowed.
Well, you have been replaced. I don't need anyone now.
Refusing to be distracted, Li drew himself up. "Come home, Kiku. I bet some of your joints are creaking and aching—Yao has oil for you. He can repair you. An android needs a mechanic!"
"I can repair and oil myself," Kiku said coldly. "I don't need anyone to do it for me."
When I delete you, maybe I'll stop feeling so bad.
He was tempted—oh, so tempted—to take his katana and run Li through with it a couple times. To take out the other android's harddrive and smash it to the ground. Even better, to hunt down Yao and make sure that he stayed dead this time. Maybe—just maybe—it would make him feel better. If there were no reminders of his betrayal of the human who had built him.
It didn't matter. He tried to convince himself of this.
Go make some new disaster—that's what I'm counting on.
If he left Yao alone, doubtless the engineer would build more androids, teach others to build them. If that kept up, soon there would be only androids—the humans would all be gone.
You're someone else's problem, now, I only want you gone.
Kiku reminded himself that it wasn't his problem, what Yao chose to do. He took a deep breath and faced his little brother. "Li. Go home. There is nothing you can do to persuade me. I'm not coming back."
Li's face was blank. "Very well. I will inform Yao of your decision."
Now I only want you gone.
Kiku watched as Li turned and left, then departed himself. They went their separate ways—one, back to his creator and not-quite-life as an android; the other, to live freely as a human in the human world.
Now I only want you gone.