Learning
to Walk Again
By:
Sinead
Chapter
Fourteen
I
yawned and stretched, as we unloaded the armor from the vans late that night.
All ending ceremonies were over. With a final stretch, I pulled my armor stands
behind me as I walked towards the Pavilion. It was only me, Yokio, Mom, and Dad
left. Everyone else wanted to go home to their own beds, and I completely
understood that. It was something that everyone wanted after any fierce
competition.
I
walked into someone, and, with a practiced move, drew my sword and landed in a
defensive position. Yokio chuckled and placed one hand on the sword, resting the
other upon my cheek, gently moving my head to look at him. “Alessa . . .
can’t you sense who it is?”
I
paused, looked at the tall person, then asked, “Sense? What?”
“Alessa
. . .”
I
sighed, then growled, “No, Dinobot, I can’t. I’m tired, I want to sleep, I
know that we have visitors, and that means that I have to make sure that
everything is tidy–”
A
familiar voice chuckled and I blinked slowly, looking up at him. “Optimus
Primal, you fiend. This is the third time that you’ve done something like this
to me.”
“I’ll
give you that one,” Primal said. “So . . . Dinobot. Did Megatron deliver the
message properly?”
“That’s
who it was?! The idiot couldn’t have waited for a more inopportune time?! By
the flaming Pit, Primal! If I wasn’t married to Alessa, then I would be dead
because of his action!”
“I
take it that he didn’t.”
“Slag,
no!”
I
sighed and continued pushing the armor cart ahead of me. “You boys continue
arguing. In the meantime, I’m getting this stuff away, and I’m going to
bed.”
Needless
to say Yokio caught up with Optimus behind him, chuckling at the face I knew
that my husband was making.
I
heard arguing the moment I walked in. I was lugging my chainmail past the
kitchen door, when I saw a short, wheeled bot, arguing with a hovering, taller
one. I sighed, and called in, “I won’t break it up, as long as it ends
before the hour’s over. If not, Rattrap, I won’t let you talk with
Dinobot.”
“You’re
slaggin’ kiddin’.”
“Wanna
bet?” Dinobot called over, passing me, with half of my armor in his arms.
I
glared at him. “You shouldn’t be carrying things, Dinobot!”
I
heard the other two run to the door, as I argued with Dinobot about whether he
should be carrying the armor or not, due to his injury. We stopped, when a
dragon filled the hallway, looking at us. I sighed. “Megatron, I take it?
Couldn’t you have waited until Dinobot was done with his duel to drop the
message?”
He
blinked. “Should I have?”
Dinobot
placed the armor upon the ground, changed to his human form, and then lifted his
shirt to reveal his perfectly-toned muscles . . .
[What
was that, Alessa dear?]
[Shut
up.]
Actually,
he was showing off his scar. He then returned to his robot mode, and picked the
armor up again, then walked into my armor room. After setting it down on the
proper rack, he looked over his shoulder at me. I smiled, sighed, and then said,
“Yeah . . . I kinda have to get the rest of the armor.” I walked up next to
him, draping the chainmail over the mannequin that held it on, and leaned
against him. He sighed, and I whispered quietly within our shared soul, [There’s
a week of gentle training, before we have to get moving towards the Nationals.]
He
looked down at me quizzically.
I
smiled semi-evilly.
He
ran off to the bedroom, shifting to his human form as he went.
Shaking
my head, I walked out of the room, and into the hallway, meeting Rattrap’s
bland gaze. “Y’know . . . I’d really like ta know why he ran
through dat door, lookin’ as pleased as he did.”
Another
bot blinked around the doorway from the guest room across from the armory, and
said, “Are you so sure? This is Dinobot we’re talking about.”
“.
. . you’re sick.”
I
laughed evilly, and walked off, leaving Rattrap to argue with Cheetor.
The
door was slightly ajar. I blinked, then opened it a slight bit more, seeing the
screen that I usually changed behind right in front of me as I opened it. There
was a small light coming from behind it. I walked fully in and was about to walk
around the screen when the door closed behind me. I whirled and saw Yokio there,
in . . . in a men’s dark-colored kimono, looking as if he were from the feudal
period in
Somehow,
this didn’t really surprise me at all.
I
blinked, and heard, “That’s because, watashi no koibito, you
are different. You’ve changed in the short time that I’ve known you. It
doesn’t help that we’ve overlapped our souls twice since our marriage.”
I
sighed, and smiled, knowing that he had been listening to my thoughts. I turned
away from him so that I could change into the kimono he had given to me. I tied
it around myself, then adjusted it slightly so that it fell in a nice, loose
sort of way. I called over to my husband softly, “And the point of this is . .
.?”
He
walked around the screen, smiling gently. “To see you in your full beauty,
perhaps?”
“Yokio
. . .”
“All
right, slaggit . . . I knew that you would win after you popped your leg back
into place. I felt that feeling of triumph. This is also,” he pulled his hands
before him, showing a wrapped present within them, long and odd-looking, “to
celebrate your nineteenth birthday. Close your eyes.”
I
did, and felt his hand take one of mine, gently guiding me forward, then . . .
to the right, around the screen, I presumed, and then forwards a bit more,
turning me once more to the right. His hand never left mine, as I heard him
whisper quietly, “Happy birthday. Look.”
I
opened my eyes.
“Dinobot
. . . you . . . you did this? In this short time?”
“Yes.”
He
had set up a small table, low and in the old Japanese style, with two lanterns
upon it, one on either side. There was a small cake, the only non-Japanese item
that I could find in the room, with a simple, “Happy Birthday” written upon
it. I looked to him, and asked, “Who told you that it was today?”
He
smiled, and whispered, “A good source. Sit. I know that it’s late, but
please, Alessa, sit. Just this small celebration. I know that you don’t want
it, anyway, but . . .”
I
smiled back up at him, and then leaned closer to him. “Where do I sit?”
He
guided me to a pillow, and then sat behind me, his shoulder against my back.
“Make a wish. I’ll stay out of your mind.”
I
closed my eyes, made the simple wish, then blew out the candles. He smiled, and
slid the odd package around my waist, to rest upon my lap. “Here. Open it.”
I
did, and then saw . . .
“Yokio
. . . Dinobot . . . who did this?”
“I
did. Recognize the pattern?”
I
nodded. “It’s . . . it’s like half of your sword’s pattern . . . crossed
with my fighting sword’s pattern.”
He
nodded, and leaned closer, his voice quiet. “It’s one of two. I own the
other one. Teach me.”
Turning
to look at him, I asked, “Teach you what?”
Yokio’s
face smiled gently, not saying anything. I sighed, and sheathed the sword. Once
I had laid that upon the table, careful not to scratch the lacquered surface, I
moved as quickly as my body would allow me, and tackled him, tickling his sides
as I did so. He quickly returned the side-pinching, also managing to grab the
back of my knee which was just as ticklish. We rolled slightly, laughing, but he
stopped our movement before we rolled through the wall and into my parent’s
room, which was next to ours.
Nonetheless,
there was a knock on the wall with my father’s throaty roar accompanying it.
“Keep it DOWN in there!!!”
In
the rooms around us everyone went silent, then exploded into gales of laughter.
I looked to Yokio, who was supporting his weight upon his hands, leaning over
me. He was looking mildly annoyed but I smiled anyway. Once the laughter died
down, I called over, “Don’t say that we should get a room, ’cause you know
that I’m already in one.”
“Respect
your elders!”
“Respect
our privacy!”
Someone
called from down the hall, “Respect mah ahthoratay!!”
Yokio
called down, “Will you ever shut UP, vermin?!”
“Dat
wasn’t me fer once!”
“Then
who?!”
There was a brief silence, which was broken by a myriad of voices, “CHEETOR!!!”