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Learning
to Walk Again By:
Sinead Chapter
Fifteen I
sighed and snuggled closer to Yokio. He was already awake, and
running his fingers gently through my short hair, playing with it. I
blinked up at him, then frowned sleepily. He smiled, and I yawned
then buried my head into the pillow by his neck. He smiled, kissed
my cheek, then whispered, “Your parents are gone.” “Mmph
. . . ?” “They’re
showing my old comrades around the forge.” “Mmmmmph
. . . ?” “Shall
I elaborate further upon the fact that we’re all alone?” “Nnmmpphhrrrr.” “Hm?” “Nnmmmpphhrrrrrr!!!” “Headache,
dear?” I
pulled my head out of the pillow, and glared at him. “Yeah. And
it’s running from my head downwards. You want to fight about
it?” “Makes
it more fun, you know.” “.
. . pig.” “Yo,
CHOPPUHFACE!!!” I
felt Yokio jerk, and then settle back. We had talked and I had
fallen asleep again, nestled against him. His voice was quiet.
“Quiet! She’s still asleep, from what I can tell. What is it?” “Can
I come in?” Yokio
sighed, and said, “Alessa wouldn’t appreciate that.” “Oh.” I
blinked up at him, and he chuckled. “You were already awake,
weren’t you?” “Mm
. . . sorta.” He
chuckled, and I rose to get changed. Once I was in comfy clothes and
Yokio was Dinobot, since he was being lazy again, I opened the door
to allow the smaller Maximal in. “Come on, then. You woke me up,
and I’m still due a few more hours sleep. What did you need?” “Uh,
if ’ya don’t mind, I kinda hafta talk to Dinobot alone.” I
smiled, and opened the door again to allow myself though. “Of
course. Dinobot, you get changed once you feel like having cider . .
. or tea. And you have to wear something that could pass my
mother’s approval before I hand you the mug.” He
smiled. I closed the door behind me, still smiling in return. Dad
embraced me as I passed his door, and then ruffled my hair. “I
hope that you didn’t take me too harshly last night, Ales.” Chuckling,
I turned, and kissed his cheek. “Dad, we weren’t. That, and we
wouldn’t have done anything, knowing that there were guests here
as well.” I blinked up at him. “Weren’t you showing people
around the forge?” “That
was three hours ago.” “Oh.
What time is it?” “Two-thirty.” “PM?” “PM.” “Wow.” He
laughed, and I set about setting up tea for people who wanted it.
Yokio sat next to me. I was surprised to see him, actually, but what
I was more surprised to see, was that he was fuming about
something. I took the water off of the heat, and turned to face him.
[What’s up?] [Nothing.] [Bite
me. What’s the matter?] He
blinked at me, and outlined the situation. It seems that the
Maximals and Megatron and his goons were fighting against some new
alien species, who had succeeded in knocking Megatron off of his
seat of power as dictator over a mindless Cybertron. Megatron wanted
Dinobot to join them, and would do anything to do so. Anything.
That’s why my husband was so angry. Rattrap had warned him that
Megatron had even been planning to hold me hostage, to get him to
help. I sighed, and wrapped my arms around his chest, and buried my
face into his body. He held me tight, and whispered, “I could
never forgive myself if he did that to you.” “You
don’t have to worry. He wouldn’t try anything, since Nationals
are on their way.” “Alessa
. . . he would. You don’t know him.” I
looked up at him, and then sighed. “Then we’d better get to He
nodded, seeing the sense in that move, and said, “When should we
start getting ready?” “Practice
for the rest of today, pack tomorrow, get to the city by tomorrow
evening,” I replied. “Then, go to the local Arena, and practice
there. It would do good to talk to some of the young fighters from
that arena.” “Alessa!
Someone’s here, saying that he knows you!” Cheetor said,
huffing, and looking a bit worried. I
grabbed a ceremonial naginata as I ran outside, and landed upon the
path in a defensive position easily with the weapon. I blinked,
laughed, and relaxed, seeing Kedamono remove his helmet and chuckle
as well. Cheetor blinked from me to him, and I said, “Cheetor,
meet Yamayuurei Itosugi, a good friend of mine. He’s known as
Kedamono in the arena. He was one of the judges yesterday, and I
trust him with my life.” “Oh.
Whoops.” I
laughed, and replied, “Aah, don’t worry about it.” I looked
back at my friend, and asked, “When are you going down to the D.C.
to judge?” “Tomorrow.
I came to say that it wouldn’t kill you if you wanted to come with
me. Plus, the other judges wanted to see and meet with you and Yokio.
Why do you ask, though?” “Yokio
and I were actually thinking about looking around the city.” “You
mean being seen by the public,” Cheetor said slowly, looking at me
thoughtfully. “Mm-hm.” “Wise
move.” “ALESSA!!!” I
sighed, and said, “You can change in the guest house, Ito-chan. It
has tiled floors, so you don’t scratch the wooden ones of the main
house. I’ll have some tea ready.” “Thank
you, Are-chan.” “Oh,
anytime!” I called over my shoulder, walking towards my mother’s
call. She was waiting in the main room, by the sunken fireplace.
“What is it?” “Yokio
told me about his plans.” “We’re
going to D.C.” “Good.
Your father and I are coming.” “Mom,
are you sure?” “Of
course. You’ve never been to the “What,
and get my tail whipped?!” Yokio called from the kitchen. “You
have to learn sometime!” I replied. “Oh,
great. I believe this is the part where Rattrap says that we’re
all going to die.” I
laughed, and shook my head. “Oh, you. I’ll be easy on you.” He
chuckled somewhat evilly, and replied, “For once.” “Mind.
Gutter. Out. NOW!!!” Yokio
landed upon his rear. Again. I sighed, and reached down to help him
up. He was in one of the suits of armor that my father had outgrown.
Groaning, he asked, “Why the Pit must you cause me to fall?
This is what you call easy?!” I
grinned behind my helmet. “You want to learn the style, you learn
how to defend yourself against it, by deflecting my blows completely
and correctly. Once that’s done, you’ll know the
different blocks. Then, I’ll teach you to parry. After
that, attacking.” “Usually,
don’t you teach attacking before parrying?” “Not
here! You work your way up from blocking,” my father called from
the porch, slugging down a soda of some sort. We’re not the
greatest people to be talking to others about how nutritious our
diets are. Usually, I get by on a small bag of Doritos and a
Mountain Dew, or a burger from a fast-food restaurant chain. Dad
was talking again. “And here’s a tip: You’re using straight
blocks! Try a different approach!” Yokio
looked at him in shock. “. . . what the slag?! Blocking is supposed
to be straight!” “Is
it?” I
laughed at Yokio’s speechlessness, and then said, “On your
guard!” Yokio
turned, and I swooped a simple overhand strike at him. He blocked,
his sword parallel to the flagstones beneath our feet. Using a swift
rebounding, rolling motion, I let the sword bounce up to swing it in
a full circle, beginning a swipe at his legs. Again, his block was
straight, but this time, perpendicular to the ground. While he was
busy blocking that, I linked my right leg around his own, and
tripped him. “Wrong style of blocking.” He
glared up at me. I shrugged, and continued, “You clearly didn’t
hear what my father was saying.” He
ripped his helmet free of his armor, revealing an extremely angry
face, yelling, “Well if you told me outright, then I’d be
able to stop making mistakes!” I
pulled my own helmet free, seeing that there would me no more
practice for today. Sighing, I replied, “Mistakes are proof that
you’re trying, and I commend you for that. But I cannot tell you
what you’re doing wrong. You have to figure that out on your
own.” “Oh,
and I suppose that you had to find out what you were
doing wrong as well?!” I
smiled, and nodded. “Of course.” Yelling
in pure frustration, he threw his helmet and sword down to storm
off, pulling the armor off. As he did so, he held it as he stalked
off. I smiled at his retreating back, while Rattrap came up next to
me quietly. “What was dat about?” Once
he was inside, I looked at my father, who was grinning. “You’re
a brat, Alessa.” I
nodded. “I know.” Looking down at Rattrap, I said,
“Dinobot’s been raised with swordfighting in the style that he
uses. I’m basically ripping that training free from him. He
identifies his whole personality and being with it. It’s a part of
him that’s been a constant in a shifting world.” “And
you’re telling him dat it’s wrong.” “Horribly
so. He’s not going to be happy with me for a while.” “Then
why do dis t’ ’yaself?” Rattrap asked quietly. Sighing,
picking up the helmet and sword, I looked at the rodent. “Because
there are fatal flaws in the style he uses. If Jett had recognized
the flaws, he really could have killed Dinobot out there yesterday.
We’re lucky that he was so angry at the fact that Dinobot’s my
husband, he overlooked them blindly.” “Dinobot
doesn’t know dat you’re helping him.” I
shook my head. “And he won’t know until he figures it out for
himself, Rattrap. Promise me that, please. I’m blocking this
information from him, locking it up in the farthest corner I can
find.” Rattrap
nodded, smiling. “If it means dat he’s gonna improve, den I’ll
help ’ya.” “Thanks.”
I heard a door slap shut on the other side of the house, and smiled,
chuckling. “He’s taking a walk. Good. Maybe he’ll figure
something out.” Rattrap
groaned, shaking his head. “Don’t count on it, sistuh. Don’t
count on it.” Dinobot
was back late that night, still fuming, but in a controlled sense. I
was leaning against the door to the rock garden in the center of the
house as I heard him enter. The door closed, and I heard him pull
out the bedding, grumbling something. I looked over my shoulder.
“Say something?” His
glare was final and absolute. “Not to you.” I
shrugged, and then looked back at the garden. “Okay. Tea’s still
warm, if you’d like any. It’s the Chinese Black variety, which I
remembered is your favorite.” A
snort was his only answer as he laid down. My father was suddenly in
front of my nose. I yelped, then laughed. “Da-ad! Stop doing
that!” He
laughed in return. “Only when you’re able to do that yourself!
And I’m injured! Have you gotten the trick down yet?” I
felt myself blushing. “No-o. Tell me?” “No.” “Blast.
I figured you’d say something like that. Need a sparring partner
tomorrow?” “Once
you can sneak up on me, I’ll get back to sparring with you.” “Gee,
you’re real helpful.” “As
much as I can be, and you know that.” He ruffled my hair, and
said, “You’re close, though. Real close to it.” I
smiled back up at him, and said, “Thanks, Da.” “Get
sleep. We’re going to be setting out earlier on the roadtrip than
we originally planned. You’re packed?” “Yeah,
nearly. Only my armor’s left. And you’d better sleep, too.
You’re a back-up judge.” He
rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Don’t remind me, daughter. Good night.” “G’night.” I
closed the door, and then went around the room, extinguishing all
but one candle, which was near the teapot. I poured myself a cup,
then sat to drink it. Dinobot shifted to turn and look at me, his
face still angry. “When are you putting that out?” I
smiled kindly, gently. “Just a moment. I’m sorry. I thought that
you were asleep by now; you usually are.” “When
I’m not slagging figuring something out! Or, as it really
is, lying here, completely frustrated that nobody will tell me what
the slagging problem is!” His glare was still dark. I
sighed, shaking my head. “When you figure something out by
yourself, you generally take the lesson learned deeper into your
heart, than if you were told outright by your instructor.” He
snorted again, letting a growl add in to elongate the sound. “But
swordfighting is supposed to be taught in a blatant
manner!” Smiling,
I drained the cup, and blew the candle out. I climbed into my side
of the bed, but reached over to brush my fingers over his brow once.
He pushed my hand away irritably, but still remembered to be gentle
at the same time. He stopped, my fingers only an inch off of his
head, then said, “What is this condition that your father set for
you? One that means that he will not spar with you?” I
laughed, and said, “He has a trick of sneaking up on someone while
they’re watching you. Or looking somewhere around you. He taught
me the beginning of how to start, but I have to find out the final
secrets on my own.” Dinobot’s
optics locked onto my eyes. “Like what you’re doing to me.” “Almost.
But not quite.” Dinobot
growled in frustration, and let go of my hand, to roll back over. I
shook my head, and laid down completely, curling around an old
stuffed animal of mine, and falling asleep easily. It felt like a
moment later, when a hand shook me awake. I looked up, seeing Yokio,
dark hair pulled back, green eyes wide and bright in the darkness.
“Circles.” I
blinked, confused. “What?” “That’s
the answer. I’m thinking in straight lines, and that’s normal
for a Cybertronian, but I have to think like a human to defend
myself from one. You use circles.” I
shook my head, and yawned, sitting up. “Start from the beginning.
And what time is it?” He
pointed to the clock. It was just after “Your
father said that I was blocking wrong, that I was blocking in
straight lines. He said that I should try a different tactic.
Cybertronians are purely logical. Which means that we don’t do
circles.” “What
do you mean?” I asked, still holding my stuffed panda. He
took a deep breath in, then said, “The best route from point A to
point B is a straight line, correct? That’s how a Cybertronian
thinks. We don’t meander. Our thought lines aren’t rounded. A
human’s thought lines are rounded, often circular.” I
nodded again. “Go on.” “Cybertronians
fight in a straight manner. Perfectly straight lines, and perfectly
accurate angles. I thought that it was you humans who
were flawed in fighting techniques when I was watching you fight,
but . . . but I realized that . . . well . . .” He paused,
blinked, then said, “Cybertronians generally do not have rounded
figures. My original form was somewhat blocky, nothing like what you
see now. But humans they’re . . . we’re a slagging bunch of
circles. You and other fighters developed a style of fighting that
was circular. And your attacks were circular, proving that my
straight blocks were ineffective.” He paused again, then sagged
against the mattress, face in the pillow, flat on his stomach.
“You were only trying to help me, and I was . . .” I
tossed the panda to one side, and then sat astride Yokio’s back,
rubbing at his shoulders, catching a forming tension knot just in
time, and began to rub it into oblivion. “You were frustrated, you
were tired of falling on your butt, and you wanted to know why you
were failing against a girl.” His
voice was still muffled. “I’ll agree to the first two points,
but I’ve lost to more females than I’ve lost to males. Even
though I haven’t lost to many females.” I
chuckled, and once the knot was out, and his back was completely
relaxed, I let myself lay down on it, wrapping my arms around his
chest, and sighed into the back of his neck. He squirmed for a
moment, then rubbed at his neck. Gently, then, he rolled over to
pull me into his arms, and kissed my forehead. “Forgive me,
please. I was being stupid.” I
yawned, then said, “I knew what you were going though. I went
through it myself, and I still have to go through it. So
don’t you worry about it, this time. You have no excuse for all
the times that follow, though. You saw how I dealt with it between
me and Da.” He
nodded, and whispered, “I love you. And I still feel bad that I
acted the way that I did.” “I
understand.” “I
want to make it up to you. Please . . .” I
looked up at him, then sighed, and asked, “How would you want to
make it up to me, then?” “However
you want me to,” he whispered, brushing his hand through my short
hair gently. He traced my neck to my shoulders, then rested his hand
there, on my shoulder. “Whenever you want me to.” I
pulled myself closer to Yokio, then kissed him gently. [Well, you
can kiss me, then let me get back to sleep. How’s that?] [That explains the ‘what’ and ‘when,’] he said, his “voice” changing to hold a bit of a lusty note in it, [but what about the ‘how’?]
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