This story builds heavily on Samurai Jack season 5, Powerpuff Girls episodes Mr. Mojo's Rising, Get Back Jojo, Knock It Off, and Roughing It Up (skip to the end if it's too painful), and Cat Man Do is referenced briefly. Powerpuff Girls 2016 is not taken into account.
"Now who's ready for dessert?" Professor Utonium asked, "I know I am." He walked to the fridge and pulled out a plate of liver and onions.
Three grown up, candy-colored girls stared at it, their faces completely blank. The words 'happy birthday' were written across it in yellow mustard.
"Mmm! Yummy! My favorite! Don't you agree?"
"Uhhh . . . ." Blossom began.
"Try it! Go on, have at it!"
"Eh-heh . . . . Why don't you go first, Buttercup?"
"What?! I think Bubbles should do it!"
"What? No, Blossom, you're the leader, you eat it!"
Blossom growled. "You guys are so immature!" She politely picked up her fork, cut off a piece, and put it in her mouth. Her eyes widened. She smiled at the plate while she chewed and swallowed. "Girls, it's cake!"
"What?" Bubbles and Buttercup exclaimed at the same time.
Professor Utonium laughed as they each scrambled for a piece. "You didn't think I'd really give you liver and onions for your birthday?"
After the small, family celebration, Bubbles and Buttercup chatted happily, but Blossom couldn't seem to keep her eyes off the Professor. She followed him as he cleaned up after dessert.
"Professor, how old were you when you made us?"
"Oh, I don't know, I must've been about thirty-two."
"It's been twenty-five years since then."
"And that makes you . . . twenty-five years old!"
"No, Professor . . . that makes you fifty-seven."
"Yes, I am fifty-seven."
"But . . . you don't have a single gray hair! Not a single wrinkle or sagging spot! You're as thirty-two as ever!"
"Did you create a youth potion in the lab?" Buttercup asked, suddenly appearing from around the corner.
The Professor furrowed his eyebrows. "Well . . . yes, I must have."
"So we can stay in our prime forever!" Buttercup exclaimed, "We'll never get old and weak and we can always fight the bad guys!" Buttercup flew to tell Bubbles.
The Professor looked confused. "Yes . . . I must have . . . ."
"Well, you've made a lot of stuff, maybe you just forgot making it," Blossom said.
"Yes . . . forgot . . . ." He smiled at Blossom. "How's it going in China?"
The Powerpuff Girls and Professor Utonium scoured the lab. No one found any youth potion or any notes on one. Professor Utonium searched through the back of the last drawer. He found something and pulled it out.
"What's that?" Bubbles asked.
"Looks like . . . an amnesia potion. I don't remember making this."
"Well, you wouldn't," Buttercup quipped.
"But if you have an amnesia potion . . . how many more things might you not remember? How many things might we not remember!" Blossom surmised.
"The Professor wouldn't use it on us!" Bubbles insisted.
"No . . . but the fact is that the possibility exists . . . . Professor, how much do you remember before you were thirty-two?"
"Well . . . well, the thing is, I don't remember much before you girls brightened my life."
"No Professor . . . what if it wasn't us?"
"Well . . . what else would it be?"
"Amnesia potion . . . . You don't age . . . and you don't remember . . . . How long have you been thirty-two?"
The Professor's face suddenly lit up. "The tree! I remember planting a tree, my very first science experiment!"
"The one Fuzzy cut down?" Buttercup asked.
"Yeah! See, I remember stuff. I must age."
"Yeah, Blossom, remember we met him as a kid?" Buttercup said.
"Oh, that's right. Well, that was time travel and weird stuff. Who do we know who knows the Professor from before we were created?"
"Mojo!" Bubbles said.
"Yeah, but he was just a baby."
"How about that crazy guy who tried to clone us and sell cheap copies?" Buttercup suggested.
"Yes! He knew the Professor in college! Let's go!"
"Girls, this is ridiculous! Do you really think I'm immortal or something?"
"I don't know. It's just strange, and I want to get to the bottom of it."
The Powerpuff Girls flew off with their iconic colored streaks. They flew to Dick Hardly's house. Blossom knocked on the door.
Dick opened it partially. "What do you three want?"
"We just want to ask some questions."
"What kind of questions?"
"About the Professor."
Dick contemplated before unlatching the chain and opening it completely. His hair was mostly gray and his face saggier than the last time they'd seen him. "As a matter of fact, I've been meaning to ask you a few questions myself." He let them in.
"So, when you were in college with the Professor, how old would you say he was?"
"I dunno. Twenty. That's how old college students are, isn't it?"
"Is it possible he could have been thirty-two?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. I guess. Why?"
"Have you seen the Professor lately?"
"No. He doesn't let me anywhere near him or you. I haven't seen him since you were knee-high."
"Well . . . the Professor doesn't seem to have aged since he was thirty-two. But he doesn't have any notes, samples, or memory of a youth potion."
"So you think Utonium managed to stay thirty-two for twenty-five years?" Dick thought for a moment. "Have you considered he might have been twenty-two for thirty-five years?"
Blossom gasped. "You're right! The Professor could easily be twenty-two!"
Dick laughed mirthlessly. "That guy gets all the luck. Speaking of unusual aging patterns, I thought you girls weren't supposed to age."
"Why would you think that?"
"I saw you, you know. Before you made yourselves known to the world, before you were famous, before you were heroes. Before Mojo Jojo's observatory on Townsville Volcano Mountain."
"What do you mean? We've always been famous."
"No, you were freaks. I was just a boy. There was an incident at the school. I don't remember much, I hit my head pretty hard. But I remember I was kidnapped by a hairy man. And I remember you three. Floating over me. I knew you'd rescued me. Then you disappeared. Many years later you reappeared! You were everywhere! And you looked exactly the same! But all of a sudden you started aging! How could you be children for so many years and suddenly start growing up like normal kids?"
"You couldn't have seen us, it must've been someone else."
Buttercup touched Blossom's arm. "Blossom! It wasn't the Professor, it was Dick!"
"What?"
"When we chased Mojo into the past and saved the Professor . . . it was Dick!"
"What?" Blossom said quietly, shocked.
"But . . . he was so square, and . . . his hair!" Bubbles said.
"People change," Dick said concisely.
"But they called you Utonium!"
"That's not a real name! I made it up! I gave myself a stupid science name and managed to get everyone to think it was my real name! No one's Utonium!"
"The Professor is!"
"He made it up too! Don't tell me you seriously haven't asked about his real name."
"Of course I know his name! It's . . . it's, um . . . ." Blossom looked at Buttercup.
"Oh, I know it, I know it, it's . . . ." Buttercup said, tapping her chin.
Blossom looked at Bubbles, thinking hard with her tongue sticking out. She looked at Dick, shocked that none of them knew their own father's name. "What is his name?"
Dick shrugged, raising his arms and letting them drop. "I never said I knew! I tried so hard to get that thing out of him, let me tell ya."
She stared at Dick, stunned. "So . . . the Professor is twenty-two . . . doesn't have a name . . . and we've never actually seen him young." She looked at her two sisters.
"What's happening . . . ?" Buttercup questioned, holding her head.
"No! The Professor told us about it before we experienced it! The time travel thing. He remembered! It was his memory!" Blossom reminded herself.
"How can it be both?" Bubbles asked.
"I don't know! But we're gonna find out! Tell us everything you can about the Professor before we were born."
"Well . . . when I first met him he was just getting into science and he was just boiling over, itching to learn more. He was such a geek. But after a while, I noticed something more. He always loved science. He buried himself in it, almost like he was trying to block something out. Because sometimes he got dark. He got really, really dark. Like . . . I was afraid for him. He'd stand on roofs in the rain, letting his hair blow. So many times I thought he would jump. He started to get . . . a little crazy. Kind-of . . . you know . . . going mad . . . . I put up with him because he helped me get good grades, of course. But I knew he was messing with my head in my sleep. I discovered he'd been working on some kind of . . . memory . . . extraction device. He was watching my memories! I . . . I think he stole some. I never ended up with gaps, so I'm not sure what really happened. Because soon after . . . Utonium was completely different. Like he'd somehow been replaced. But he had memories of our time in college, he was the same person. He just . . . like he'd lost part of himself. The darkness was gone, he was all about science. Nothing strange, he was a complete nerd. Even his accent was gone."
"Accent?"
"Yeah, he had a funny accent. Then one day, poof! Gone. He never explained when I asked what happened. Suddenly he called himself Professor too."
"What nationality was his accent?"
"I don't know! I'm not an expert on accents!"
"You say the Professor was stealing your memories. Maybe he wasn't stealing, but copying. How else could you both have the same memory of us?"
"Why would he want my memories? Nevermind, I don't wanna know. He's crazy. If you three don't even understand him, I'm not sure I want to."
Blossom pulled up a recording app on her phone. "Dick Hardly, tell us about your childhood."
"Why?"
"Just talk! We have to find out if your memories have been copied. Tell us . . . your most important memories. The most powerful. The ones that shaped you."
"What if I don't want to?"
"Do you wanna know if the Professor stole your memories?"
Dicked sighed. "My parents were kind, yeah, perfect parents. That one every orphan has, melted ice cream running down the chin, and the mom lovingly wipes it off. Dad pushing me on a swing, I was an airplane, I'd never swung so high. There we go. Dead parents."
"How did they die?"
"A car crash, or so I was told. That's not a memory, that's just a piece of information. My guardians tried, but they weren't my parents. They were just people, telling me what to do, like all the other adults, teachers, police officers. I remember when I brought a puppy home. They said NO! No real parent would do that."
Blossom looked at her sisters, recognizing that memory. "Okay, how about school?"
"I remember how proud I was to see all the bright red X's next to my name. It was mine, my name with all those X's. The kid who had gone to the principal's office more than any other kid. Then there was the time . . . with you three and the hairy man. I know you were there. So why do you suddenly age?"
"Yeah, we traveled in time. We thought we were saving the Professor. Mojo thought he had the Professor too. We had no idea it was you!"
"Huh . . . . Wait, that was Mojo Jojo? I guess that makes sense . . . . Well, because of that moment, I decided to dedicate my life to science in order to recreate you three. I would be the richest man in the world! Unfortunately, it was all over my head, and that rash childhood goal quickly disintegrated. But I learned enough to get by. I learned how to cheat. There were no more red X's next to my name, no, I cheated better than that. It was red A's. And I knew I had stolen them. Red A's that belonged to other students. They were mine. I stole Utonium's A's, I suppose it's only fair he steal some of my memories."
"Let's see . . . how about a first kiss?"
"Kindergarten love, it was disgusting. Her parents were so mad."
"Well . . . a first real kiss. With someone you actually like."
Dick slowly raised his hand with a scowl.
"Right . . . no ring . . . . Umm . . . ."
"Favorite toy!" Bubbles asked.
"I don't have a favorite toy! No one has a favorite toy!" he said rapidly, "And if I did it certainly wouldn't be a dump truck!"
"Was it a big deal for you when those old, pixellated video games first came out?" Buttercup asked.
"Oh, yeah, my friend had an Atari and all his friends and all the kids on his block would come and we'd have enormous tournaments. So stupid now to think of all of us crowded around a tiny screen, watching a pixel bounce side to side. But it was a blast. His grandmother was always yelling at us, telling us we were too loud, to get away from that screen, it'll turn your brain into soup. She had a cane and she could be pretty scary."
"Now Dick . . . do you have a memory of planting a tree?"
"Huh? I think my school did an Earth Day project, we all had to plant a tree in the city, and I hated it."
"Oh . . . not in the forest?"
"Why would you plant a tree in the forest? There's a million trees in the forest!"
"Okay." Blossom stopped the recording. "Fascinating, confusing, and just a little bit of hope. Thanks, Dick."
"I hope you find whatever you're looking for."
"I almost hope we don't," Blossom said to herself.
They flew home.
Blossom advanced on the Professor. "Professor! What's your name?"
"W-what? Professor Utonium!"
"No, your name! Your name!"
"Professor Utonium!" he said frantically, backing away in fear.
"That's not a name! What's your name! Your first name!"
"Professor!"
"Tell me your name!"
He backed into the couch, his hands raised. "Professor! My name is Professor! I've never had any other name!"
"Give me a childhood memory."
"I don't . . . . I've already told you! I don't remember much before-."
"But you must have a childhood memory! At least one! A vague one will do. Just one!"
"I don't know, ice cream!"
"What about ice cream?"
"You know . . . dripping down my chin, my mom wiping it off. I've always liked ice cream."
Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup shared a glance.
"Tell us about your dad, then," Blossom said.
The Professor thought for a moment. "I sort-of have an image . . . swinging in the yard . . . I was an airplane . . . ."
"Where are they now?"
The Professor's face fell. "They died in a car accident. I didn't know them very well."
"Did you get a new family?"
He touched his temples, struggling to remember. "I had a new family. But they were just my guardians. I never really attached myself to them. They said I couldn't have a puppy, remember? I tried to distance myself. I was a bit of a brat."
"How much of a brat?"
"Well . . . I remember . . . being proud of myself . . . when I got the last mark I needed to have more red X's than anyone else in the class, for going to the principal's office."
"What was your favorite toy?"
"A yellow dump truck, I think? I wonder where that went . . . ."
"What was your experience of the first Atari games?"
"I went to my friend's house, and all the kids in the neighborhood were there, and we gathered around this little screen, watching the tiny pixels bounce around. We had huge tournaments, it was so much fun! More than once we were broken up by his grannie. She was always telling us we were too loud, telling us to get away from the screen, that it would melt our brains or something. She had a cane and she could be pretty scary."
Blossom swallowed, horrified. "Professor . . . ."
"What? What's wrong?"
"Who are you, Professor? What's your name?"
"Professor is my name! Former mayor Mayor's name is Mayor! Is it really so hard to believe that my name is Professor?"
"What was your accent? What makes you so upset that you'd contemplate suicide?"
"What? Blossom, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Think, Professor, think. Those aren't your memories. Those are someone else's memories, that you copied."
"H-h-how could I do that? Why would I-? Why would you say that?"
Blossom held up her phone and played the recording.
There was a sigh. "My parents were kind, yeah, perfect parents. That one every orphan has, melted ice cream running down the chin, and the mom lovingly wipes it off. Dad pushing me on a swing, I was an airplane, I'd never swung so high."
"I know that voice, who is . . . ? That's Dick!" The Professor glared at the phone. "Why are you recording Dick? Why are you talking to that man?!"
"Just listen."
The Professor listened to Dick talk about the car crash, his guardians, and the red X's. He looked confused, until Dick mentioned the incident with the hairy man and the girls. He looked horrified when Blossom said they had met Dick in the past instead of the Professor. He looked confused again when Dick talked about stealing A's.
"I don't remember that. That's not my memory."
"So you didn't steal all of them, only some."
"I don't remember that either," he said when Dick mentioned a kindergarten kiss.
Bubbles asked about the favorite toy.
"I do remember that! The dump truck . . . ."
His face fell at the description of the Atari parties and the scary grandmother. "I . . . . How can this be real? He copied almost everything I said! But . . . I copied him!"
"You have an amnesia potion . . . stolen memories . . . you don't age . . . and we've never seen you young."
The Professor looked at Blossom, his face blank. "What am I?"
Bubbles hugged him. "You're Professor Utonium, and you're our dad."
The Professor squeezed his eyes shut. "I must have my own memories, I must!"
"Yes. There's one," Blossom said, "The tree you planted."
Dick spoke about his memory of Earth Day, and shot down the question of planting a tree in the forest.
The Professor perked up. "He doesn't remember? That means it's my memory! It's my childhood memory!"
"Maybe if we take you to it, you'll start to remember your own memories from before you made us," Blossom said.
The Powerpuff Girls took a reluctant Professor to see the stump of his beloved tree. The huge oak lay in pieces on the ground, rotting. But the Professor was exuberant to see that a sprout had grown from the stump and was already a few feet tall.
"It grew back. It was . . . reborn . . . out of trauma. It kept going. It pushed through . . . . Its old life rotting, a constant reminder of the horror and . . . wonder . . . ." The Professor gently caressed a leaf, almost in a trance.
His hand disturbed a ladybug, which flew away as the Professor watched.
"Memories . . . memories . . . . Who am I? Am I . . . the tree?" He looked at the rotting remains. "Cut down and decaying . . . all but forgotten." He looked at the new growth. "Born anew, fresh and young . . . . But the tree remembers. What have I forgotten?" He sank to his knees.
The Powerpuff Girls watched their father with concern, meditating in front of his tree.
"I . . . did not plant this tree . . . as a child . . . . It was a false memory . . . altered to fit the rest of my false memories. I planted it . . . as an adult. I planted it . . . to remember . . . to remember what?"
"Come on, Professor, what do you remember?" Blossom urged.
"Think, Professor, think!" Bubbles encouraged.
He closed his eyes. "I . . . came to this hill . . . everything is new . . . I'm frightened . . . I've left everything behind . . . I don't know what I'm doing . . . . I've discovered how much I enjoy science. I planted a tree. My very first science experiment. A tree that will grow. A tree that will remind me . . . . Remind me of what?! The tree grew. It grew and grew. I visited it to remember. It grew tall and strong. I carved something into it. But I didn't want to remember. I didn't want my memories to be tall and strong. I wanted them to be forgotten . . . but not to be destroyed . . . . To remain hidden forever. To grow . . . dig their roots into the earth . . . spread out far below the surface . . . but lost in legend. Like ancient runes . . . lasting forever . . . their meaning long forgotten."
"What did you plant it to remember?"
"I . . . don't remember . . . . My . . . home."
"What home?"
"I don't know, just . . . home."
"What's home? What's home? Please think!"
"I just have a feeling . . . a feeling of home. I can't remember anything. Maybe . . . maybe I shouldn't remember."
"What did you carve into the tree?" Buttercup asked.
The Professor thought again. "Initials . . . and a heart."
"You were in love!" Bubbles exclaimed.
"What letters were they?" Blossom asked.
"I don't remember."
"Try to remember!" Buttercup urged.
The Professor stood up. "I don't remember! Girls, maybe . . . maybe I forgot for a reason. Maybe we should just leave it alone."
"But maybe we need to find out why you're immortal!" Blossom said.
"I'm not immortal!"
"Maybe there's more things we need to know about."
"Or maybe it just doesn't matter!" the Professor said, "Maybe I can just be Professor Utonium! Maybe I can just have an unknown past! Maybe I can just be young forever! Can't I just be that and nothing more?"
"Yeah." Bubbles wrapped her arm around him. "Come on, Professor. Let's go home."