I am Samurai
Nya stood in the entrance of the long abandoned cave, partial fragments of raided out equipment softly lit in the gloom, the memory of her once secret project vivid in her mind again. 'Why did I keep it secret? If I'd had more confidence then, would I have turned away from it?'
She walked forward into the space. The central floor was partly open to the sub levels. She pressed the button to close it, but it had frozen up over time. She continued to where the Samurai X suit would have stood supported by a scaffold. She would climb and build from it a gargantuan samurai mech, an imaginary version of herself made real. The thought of the Mech coming to life under her command sent a wave of excitement through her centre. What she was then was impressive, but what she could be now? That vision sat clearly in front of her. Tempting her. It didn't need to try very hard.
Was it my choice to walk a different path? Past elementals were not always Ninja. I never thought to question this fact, which seems absurd now.
What was Sensei Wu's agenda? I asked him years before. Before he passed. 'Togetherness' is all I got out of him. He wanted me within the support structure of the Ninja clan, but he could still see this in me when he left us. He had pulled me to him and whispered in my ear 'To fight alone is to die alone'. I cried. I knew the truth in what he said and I cried because I wanted it still. The team thought I was crying for Wu. But I was crying for myself.
My mind is with the Mech. All day and most nights I work in the background, amongst the wires and circuit boards of the HQ's hardware. I feel at home, yet alone. But it's not my Mech.
Every mission is a wrench now and I am distracted, I must change my wiring to fight effectively with the team. Leave the Mech, become ninja. Mind clear and body open to the urgency of action. The only defence for my body is my mind and without focus I am dangerous to myself and the team.
She felt the expertly wrapped hilt in her hand, the ceremonial tassel swung almost imperceptibly below her clenched hand. A pendulum swinging between her two lives, a count down to inevitability. The sword was passed to me in his will. Its provenance a surprise, but not so far fetched. Did he know? Did he know my mind? Was the sword a test? Something in me has been awakened and the sword is pulling me. My mind swims like the folded metal of the blade, it resonates in me. Every craftsman that formed this piece offers it up with respect, the respect of my kin. I look into the polished edge and see who I am'.
'I am Samurai'