I don't own Amphibia

This one-shot I based on this episode of Samurai X I once saw. For some reason I had this click in me to make a version that focused on Sprig.

This one-shot takes place before True Colours.

Will you be Around?

It was a lovely summer midday in the small town of Wartwood. The various towns people were going on their natural business. That was with the expectation of just one certain young frog. Sprig walked through the forest to one of the fishing ponds he had been admiring. It had been on his list of 'what to do when I get back from Netopia' list.

The young frog in a cute way treaded along the damp soil gleefully with his fishing rode on his shoulders. Already fantasizing of the amazing giant trout's, he planned to catch and serve for dinner to the rest of the Planters. At least it would be something he could load over Sasha for a while.

Sprig chuckled at the small egotistical thoughts of seeing the blond fighters smug face deflate against his greatness overpowering hers. It would make his day so much better knowing he got one over her before she and the rest of the girls went back to their home world.

"Went back to their home world." A whisper in his ears echoed ghostly.

All of Sprig's desires for coolness suddenly vanished. One hand he was glad Anne, Marcy and Sasha were going to finally be back with their families, their homes and he guessed their real friends.

But that didn't mean they would be coming back, would they? The calamity box they had to go through so many trials in order to get it charged up. So many near death risking tasks. Would they be willing go through them all over again just for a weekend visit? If Anne's parents where anything like Hop pop chances were that box was going to be torn apart in her world.

Sprig finally found a nice small mossy log next to the pond he wished to fish. The young violinist jumped onto the log and made himself comfortable as he sat down. With a sway of his fishing rod Sprig lunged the hook into the small circle of water. Now the young frog waited for the slightest hint of a possible catch.

Normally Sprig would always be over the moon during fishing. After all his trips with Hop pop it easily become one of his most liked hobbies. Yet in this case Sprig didn't find the usual joy as he usually did during this small trip. Everything was the way he liked it, so why didn't he feel the same excitement as he usually did.

No matter how much Sprig tried he couldn't shake off this bizarre feeling of guilt of his shoulders. The guilt was really stemming from the fact the time he took for himself was time he should be spending with Anne. Looking back at his previous thoughts, he was becoming more aware that his time with his best friend was becoming shorter and shorter by each passing second. The return trip to Netopia was dawning more and more quickly than he could imagine. The time was just disappearing right before him, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

The small frog's face began to sombre at this unfixable situation. Ever since he met Anne, his life had really changed for the better. The town liked his family more, he got a girlfriend, Toad tower got blown up. He had even seen what was outside of Wartwood. Now, what would he do when she leaves? Just go back to life he had before. Looking back at the life he had before he met Anne, it was a life that simply was just not going anywhere.

Sprig sighed tiredly. This is why he let Hop pop for the most part do all this thinking. It saved him a whole lot of agro like the one he was having now.

Suddenly, a huge thump made Sprig's eyes jump out of him from the shock. As Sprig caught his bearings and calmed down from the sudden surprise. The young frog turned to see a small but bulky toad sitting next to him. Sprig keeled his teeth, while it was true, he knew not all Toads were the same as the ones from the tower. It didn't make the young Planter any less cautious. It didn't help Sprig's confidence when he got a better eye view of the Toad in front of him.

The Toad had green skin, a few battle, earned scars around his face with a white beard draining off his mouth. He wore black jacket, purple shirt and black trousers a long with two sandals on his feet. Sprig could already tell his old Toad must have been one of Grimes men. Just looking at him, Sprig could tell he had TOWER written all over him.

Sprig was about to ditch his fishing rod and make a run for it to get help. Before his left foot even left the mossy log a gentle voice asked, "Is that your fishing rod young man?"

Sprig stopped in his tracks. So, the old toad was aware of his presence. Already Sprig was using his imagination to contemplate ways he could fight back against the old toad. Perhaps use his rod like club and whack the old toad out, or perhaps jump onto one of the trees and do an air strike, or perhaps just perhaps try to get a killer giant fish out of the pound to eat the old toad up.

Sprigs plans for survival were put to a halt when the Old Toad spoke once again. "It would be a shame if you lost it, from the looks of it I can tell it's a study rod." The Old Toad explained nicely as he took the time to hold Sprig's rod and get a good feel of the device.

Sprig nervously nodded as he sat back down to the Old Toad, the new fisherman handed back the rod to Sprig. "Thanks" was all Sprig could muster as his nerves were regaining control of themselves.

For the next fifteen minutes the young frog and the old toad sat in silence just keeping their focus on their fishing. Both focusing on their lines and hoping to catch some nice food.

Finally, the old Toad spoke once again "So, tell me young man. How did you enjoy Netopia?"

At first Sprig was slightly relived that the silence had been broken, but then he was worried about the fact this stranger knew where he and his family had been for the last couple of months. Sprig, eyed the Old Toad with suspicion "How did you know I was in Netopia?" Sprig asked with his eyes narrowing down.

"Your Sprig Planter." The Old Toad answered bluntly "You and your family have made headlines throughout the whole valley. Not to mention I saw you all yesterday at the town's singing contest."

Sprig eyes reopened dumbly "OHHHHHHHHHHH that's how you know me." The young frog's egotism started to kick in "I guess I am a celebrity to you. I always knew I would make big one day." Sprig stated with his eyes glissading.

"Yeah, I guess you did. But I think the real fame is for that friend of yours. That Anne creature." Just like that Sprig's eyes lost their glee and the young frog's expression had turned sour "I mean, a person from another world how can you not be noticed by that alone."

Sprig huffed "Yeah, well you know I did one of the best violin solos in the valley." Sprig muttered childly.

"True, but last night when I saw her sing with those other two girls. I was blown away by how much talent she had." The Old Toad stated with a smile on his face. Sprig huffed it wasn't enough that Anne was going away. Now he had to deal with her being more popular than him when she left. Sprig could hear it now, Anne did it better, Anne was cooler, Anne that and Anne this. Why can't you be more like Anne. Anne hadn't left yet, and he already was getting crazy from it.

"Still, from what the villagers told me. I supposed I was lucky to get a chance to hear her sing. Once you go on that second trip to Netopia. She along with those other two girls will leave our world for good."

After hearing the Old Toad's words Sprig's moment of jealously melted away. Replaced by the former guilt he had felt earlier.

"It's not fair." Sprig stated mournfully.

"What isn't fair?" The old Toad asked.

"I mean, Anne she was the first real best friend I made. She came into my life and made it way better. Then she just packs up leaves forever, it just bugs me you know. Get she wants to go home, but after everything we been through how I can just go back?" Sprig asked "How, do I go back and let her go?"

The Old Toad pondered the young frog's question. He calmly approached Sprig with a question "Would you like to hear a story?"

"Hu?" Sprig spluttered out.

"You know a story? Just something to take your mind of things for a few minutes. After all story telling is one of the oldest traditions when it comes to fishing." The old Toad stated.

Sprig was considering his options. Hearing the old guy's story wouldn't hurt. If anything, it would take his mind away from Anne. After all it couldn't be any worse than Hop pop's fables. Sprig coolly nodded at his fishing companion to start speaking.

Understand the silent confirmation. The Old Toad began to tell his tale.

THE OLD TOADS STORY

Long ago, many years before your time lad, there was once a small humble village much like your own. In this village, there was a special school which focused on sword fighting. Now a days the school had long been shut down. Yet back in the day it was truly a swordsman paradise, a few years there and you could be master of the sword in more ways than you could ever realize.

One student though easily proved to be a prodigy with the sword way before he stepped into the school. A toad in his late teens would show his prowess in combat and skill during any of the lessons. He easily made it top of class. He had been approached to join Toad tower and even Netopia for a chance to be one of their knights.

Yet, despite all these high accomplishments and offers none of them ever interested the young Toad. For you see the young toad for all his amazing skill was unfortunately a shallow creature, blinded by egotism and naivety. He allowed himself to degenerate into a pompous small thing.

Due to his superiority complex and lack of direction. The young toad sadly found himself quite alienated from most of the town's inhabitants. All expect one…... a beautiful young frog, till this day no one knows why she wanted to know young Toad. Why she seemed so keen to be friends with him. I mean why would kindness want to know a jackass?

At first the young Toad dismissed her often in a rudely manor. Despite this however, the young frog would often meet up with him daily. She would wait outside the school gate, drabbed in a lovely summer dress. Finally, the young toad relented towards young frog. He had agreed to go on what your generation would call a date with the young maiden.

To his own and everyone's else's surprise the young toad enjoyed it. Not just that, he agreed to go again with the young maiden. Then again and again. They had done everything together. Exploring the valley, entering competitions or even just sitting at home to watch snail's race. Weather their activities were interesting or mediocre one thing anyone could agree one was that the two souls had obtained a true sense of companionship between them. A companionship, which sadly wasn't unbreakable.

It just took one night. One night for everything the young toad had achieved to be swallowed up by the egotism that many thought he had long since been cured of. After a late cold rainy night session at his school, the young toad had taken some shelter from drops which poured off from the dark sky. A small snail stop nothing more. What he didn't know was that small choice which change his life forever.

You see, next to the stop was house being robbed by some bandits. The toad was alerted to his fact thanks to the horrible screams which echoed horribly on that night. The young toad peeked out trying to see what was happening.

In a way, small choices can be cruel like that in their own way. Just one, measly decision in the moment can allow your existence to take such a different turn from the one you always planned and expected to have. A life, the devil wanted you to have.

That is who the young Toad saw that night. The devil in all his glory, taking the form of a hooded bandit. A toad or a frog draped in black clothing all other. Holding a sword in his left hand. A sword which had its blade drenched in blood from the house's residents.

The young toad just looked into the creatures' eyes. Those yellowish red predator eyes. Likewise, the bandit did the same thing. Just eyeing his prey. After what felt like an eternity the bandit got onto his snail and scampered into the darkness. The young toad strangely felt conflicted. One hand he had just survived the onslaught of a killer. On the other hand, what did it say about himself as a swordsman? The bandit could clearly see he was a student in the art, yet he didn't bother to fight or challenge him. Was it because he wanted to escape and didn't have time for the young toad, or did the bandit see the young toad so insignificant he didn't see it worth his time or effort to do away with him?

The young toad pondered this second possibility. Ever since he picked up a sword, the young toad had been seen as the embodiment of swordman ship by his people, by his village by most of the valley. For long as he remembered he had been entitled as many as the best around, but now all those words of praise had shattered away from his mind. Replaced with doubt and insecurity. How, did this bandit make him feel so small? Make him feel like the weaker swordsman, what made this bandit better than him? Did, he know some secret technique? A technique which could make the young toad truly the greatest swordsman in Amphibia?

A chance to experiment with this theory would present itself for the young toad. It seems the bandit wasn't alone in his pillaging, at least three more bandits had stayed behind in the house for further looting. Each one of those three caught sight of the young toad, unlike their boss. They were not going to take a chance of a bystander to implicate them. A fact they were making very clear as they unsheathed their swords.

The young toad didn't think twice. With supersonic speed he swung his wooden sword at one of the bandit's head, knocking him out cold. With a quick reach of hand, he grabbed the cold steel sword. Feeling the touch of the swords hilt gave the young toad such an imaginable erotic sensation, a sensation which would grow as he killed the three bandits.

Killing those three men, it was like taking the biggest shot of alcohol you could imagine. By taking three lives had allowed him to feel far more alive than he had ever felt. The young toad didn't feel guilty about what he did. On the contrary, he had felt he had been given a sigh from God on how to become the greatest swordsman in all the lands.

All he had to do was learn this secret technique. Once he had done that his lifelong desire of being completed would finally be achieved. So, his plan had been placed in motion. Neither the village nor the school could offer him anything else. The path of blood the only teacher the young toad would listen to now anymore.

Understandably once the village had learned about the young toad's plan. They were more than mortified, their star student willing to throw away everything he had for a lifetime of murdering? For something that may not even exist. The young toad defended himself claiming he would only kill other bandits, challengers and just the enemies of their land. If you believe that quench their distaste for his plan you would be wrong. PC killing is still killing. Ashamed of what the young toad had become, the village exiled the young toad. Never wishing to see his face ever again.

In his anger the young toad left, not bothering to say a goodbye to any of them. Before he exited the village, the young frog who had been fond of him. She had begged and begged him not to leave, to abandon this disturbed quest and stay with her. For each one of her pleas was met with a blunt statement on why he needed pursue this course.

Finally, tearfully the young frog bowed down before him. Demanding him to kill her, for she rather be dead than then live a life were the toad she loved would become this planned monster. The young toad disgusted by his former friend's weakness, dismissed her harshly and left the village for good. Not once did he look back her, not once did he bother to look at her tears.

For the rest of his youth the young toad had develop into a full-blown slasher. Journeying, throughout Amphibia. Meeting, challenging and killing any swordsman who came his way. Still using the same sword, he stole from the bandit he killed that rainy night. Through the bitter snow, the degrading head and the countless bodies in his wake. The young toad was not any where closer to discovering the technique he sought for.

For twenty-two years the young toad had been wondering. From valley to valley, from paradise to paradise. On the eve of his 22nd year the young toad was no longer a young one. Time had taken its toll on the swordsman. Wrinkles started to edge into his eyes, a white beard began to flow down his mouth, his scars started to stain more.

Despite these physical changes, or the time which had passed. None of it seemed to affect the old toad. Even after all that time the old toad still maintained his aching desire to find that technique, he saw twenty-two years ago.

After a while on one simple afternoon, the old toad started to doubt if his quest would ever come to an end. If he just was incapable of ever learning the technique, he saw that night. Such a thought drove a dark sadness throughout the toad. The idea that all this time and effort had been for nothing. Thoughts which sadly made the swordsman question if he should continue with his life or end it all together.

However, his negative thoughts came to a massive halt. As he was passing a country house, the toad saw a robbery taking place. The toad took out his sword prepared to kill the whatever scum came out of there. Not for the victims, but for himself.

What the swordsman didn't expect to see was the opponent he would be facing off. To the swordsman shock, the robber was the bandit he had met all those years ago back in his village. He couldn't believe it; he looked the same as he remembered him. Same outfit, same sword and those same predatory eyes.

The swordsman had just reunited with man who had set him on this quest. The man who had made him the toad he was now. So many emotions ran through the toad as he started once more into the bandit's eyes. One thing the toad knew was that this was his last obstacle. It had made so much sense to him now. The only way to learn the technique was to slay the bandit who showed it to him that night.

Both unsheathed their swords. After a few seconds of waiting in the summer breeze the two finally began their duel. A dance of blades played out, the two fighters swung, slashed and locked their swords in a vicious pattern. It may have been seconds, minutes or even hours which passed during their fight.

Yet even eternity finds a way of ending. The swordsman found the bandit's weak spot. With one final slash he had cut down his monstrous inspiration through. At first the bandit just stood on the spot like a statue, until finally a good chunk of blood spurred out of his stomach. Finally, he collapsed onto the ground. With his mask unfolding off his face during his fall.

The toad wasn't satisfied. He had been wrong, killing his mentor had not gotten him closer to discovering the technique. In his frustration the swordsman turned around to look at the bandit's face. Might as well find out what his unintentional mentor looked like after all these years.

Unfortunately, what the swordsman saw. Wasn't something he could have not been more prepared for. The face of the bandit was just an elderly frog. No scars, no tattoos, no deformations or physical irregularities that could be seen.

The bandit wasn't a devil. He was just a normal bloke.

In that moment the toads' eyes had been opened truly. He finally realized he had learnt the technique long ago… no that isn't right there was never a technique was there. What the young toad had saw that rainy night wasn't secret skill of the sword. What he witnessed was just plain murder. He had mistaken an sign of the Devil for an sign of God.

For the last twenty-two years the toad had been killing people. Finally, the toad had come to understand the full weight of this fact. Once he had done, his mind was drenched in uncontrollable guilt. For the remainder of the evening the toad spent his time crying and screaming in agony next to the corpse of the bandit.

The worst came at the night-time of that day. The toad wondered through the raining forest like a zombie. Unable to clear his mind from the guilt. Haunted by the lives he had taken in his selfish misguided quest. Being inspired by a thug who he dim-wittingly thought was some master swordsman.

The toad just wanted to end it right here and there. Take his sword out and take his own life. The sickness of guilt consuming his every thought, seeing the faces of the friends and families of the lives he had taken. Hearing their disgust and hatred echo throughout his ears unable to make them stop, unable to ignore them.

Before he the sharp end of his sword reached his heart, the rain stopped. Suddenly, the miserable dampness of the forest vanished. A gentle holy light surrounded the forest clearing away the wet despairing ugliness away from it. In its place stood a majestic gentle area of trees in the moon light.

Once the toad saw this change in his surroundings. His thoughts of guilt and suicide had clamed down. Instead, new thoughts had entered his mind, thoughts of the young frog he had left behind. This atmosphere reminded him of her kindness, her gentleness her loving smile and her loving embrace. Things the foolish swordsman had taken for granted before his quest.

With his need for knowledge for sword diminished. The toad realised what he needed to do now. What he should have done twenty-two years ago.

It was a long journey back to his village. Upon re-entering his old home, he noticed the vast changes in the time he had been gone. Many of his old school friends had grown up and had families of their own. His old school had been rebuilt for a new modern design, the house which had been robbed had now new more richer owners.

Despite being exiled from the village, the swordsman didn't need to worry about being noticed. For you sadly, not one person in his village recognized him. The swordsman had truly changed so much since the last time he was here. It didn't matter to him, all what mattered to him was finding his beloved. He searched and searched around the village to see where she was but couldn't find her. Finally, the swordsman decided to ask one of the locals if they knew what had happened to her. The news he got would severely devastate him once more in his lifetime.

The young frog. The only person in Amphibia who truly loved him. Had passed away, about 21 years ago before his quest. When he departed the village in his exile, the young frog had fallen into a depression. She didn't eat, drink or even sleep. After a whole year of suffering this unhealthy lifestyle, the young frog passed away way before her time. Her lost words were "I don't blame him; I could never blame him."

End of story

The old toad just sighed sadly after finishing his story "It's an old tale lad, one of many you probably have heard during your journey." The old toad stated.

Sprig just sat in silence, trying to digest the tale himself. Sure, he had heard his fair share of stories, mostly form Hop pop, but for some reason this one seemed to clutch him in a way he couldn't fully explain. The feelings of anger and sadness he felt for Anne's departure seemed to leave him. Replaced with feelings he couldn't fully explain.

The old toad stood up and stored away his fishing rod. "Well, that's enough fishing for me. It is getting late young frog. You might want to consider going back home." The young toad stood up from the log and made began to make his leave.

"Wait!" Sprig shouted out causing the old toad to stop "I want to know, did the swordsman ever make peace? I mean he lost her, he didn't just loose her did he…. he was the reason just died. How did he continue too just live? Knowing everything he had done? How does a guy just do that?"

The old toad stopped, not even turning around to face Sprig. "Young man, many things have been lost due to the misgiving and believe that time and people themselves will always be there to wait for you when you decided to stop being an ass. Trust me they won't. They will be affected by the choices you make. Some of them may move on, some of them may suffer a worse fate. One thing for certain is that you will be to blame for whatever pain which is inflicted upon them. It just takes one stupid decision."

The old toad eyed Sprig from his back, "So Sprig, now the question you must ask yourself now is will you be around still? Around to enjoy the last moments you have with the earth girl? Or waste them for feeling angry at her and yourself?" The young toad quizzed as he left the pond finally.

Sprig eyed his fishing rod finally. Just remembering the moments, he shared with Anne, when he met her for the first time in the forest. When they tried to make that pizza and every single dam monster they had ran away from. All that was going to end wasn't.

Well, might as well hop from this log and go back home. He needed to around for her.

THE END