8.April.06

Prologue

By: Blackbolt52003

            “This can’t be…” he whispered in shock, staring at the spark-less femme.  She was sleeping, in eternal sleep, yet she was still beautiful, just like she had been the day before.  “This can’t…be…” he was shaking now, tears dripping from his optics.  She was only 20 stellarcycles (years) old!  Only one year younger than him!  It wasn’t fair!

            Teacher…promise you’ll read the last three pages to me, ok?  Swear it!  He remembered her asking that, before he had left yesterday.  He had sworn it, believing that she would enjoy listening to the ending, but now…  He stared at the life-less transformer.

            “Yes…” He said, looking down.  “I did promise…” He crouched down next to dead femme sleeping peacefully on the bed and read what he had promised to read.  While he read the last three pages, he remembered the words she had said the day before.  They were meaningless to any other bot, but to him, they were memories.  Beautiful memories.  But painful.  Of course.  It would always be painful.

            Hahaha.  You’re so cute.

Teacher, I feel really well today, so can we continue the story?

You’re going to stay?  Thanks, Teacher, you’re the best!

Tomorrow?  But…I don’t even know if I can live that long!  Please continue the story!  I think…I might not live that long…  Please, Teacher…

The last memory…sent him a new batch of tears.  She had been right.  She knew in her spark that she would be able to live that long, yet he had told her he would read, not thinking about her words…not really thinking of why she was begging…

One more page left.  He didn’t want to finish.  It felt pointless.  But you gave me your word!  The realization of what she would have said brought a smile to his lips.  He would finish.  He had to.  He had given his word.

He finished the last page and closed it softly.  He stared at the cover of the book that she had so fondly picked from the many books in the bookshelves in the room.  Isabel…

He smiled as he remembered the first day he had come, the first day he had assigned as her tutor, the awkwardness between them and the bond that had grown to such an enormous length that love had started to sprout.

________________________________________________________________________

            “I can manage from here.” Ghiaccio told the bulter.  They were in front of a metal door.

            “Alright, sir.  I’ll leave you with Fuoco.”

“Thank you.” He smiled and the bulter left to attend to his duties.

            He knocked on the door and opened it.  Inside, a femme with a red colour scheme was sitting in bed, trying to read a book.  She looked up when he stepped inside.  “Oh…”

            “Uh…hello.” He said, awkwardly.

            “Um…” she said, clearly in a state of awkwardness.  He took a deep breath in and breathed out.

            “Do you…like to read?”

********A little while later…***********

            They were sitting on a metal bench in an artificial garden.  Ghiaccio had finally gathered the courage to speak and Fuoco had too.  He had found out that she loved to read books and offered to read her one.

            She had chosen ‘Isabel’, a story of love and betrayal.  When he had asked why she chose such a book for him to read, she told him that it would be impossible for her to love someone as a spark-mate without leaving him one day.

He had asked her why, but instead of answering, Fuoco asked if he could read it in the ‘garden’.  He had said ‘yes’, knowing that he shouldn’t press further.

“Teacher…you asked why I said it was impossible to love someone as a spark-mate without leaving him one day…and…you might as well know.  You see, I have an incurable illness by the name of Aral Syndrome.  It’s a mysterious disease that ravages the internal organs (yep, robots have internal organs too, but different from ours).  Very excruciating pain is accompanied by breathing disorders and partial paralysis.  These attacks persist, and will eventually lead to my death.”

“But…I ‘ve heard of a bot with Aral Syndrome and they’re still living, even after 40 stellarcycles after he got it.”

“You don’t understand.” She said, looking away, staring at a bunch of artificial flowers.  “Some patients die in a few months (sorry, I didn’t know what the Cybertronian term for months was) while some lucky ones last stellarcycles with it.  Astral Syndrome’s process in unpredictable and this scares me.  I don’t know when I’m going to die, but the medics say I will die when I feel a powerful hit of pain I haven’t felt before.  Since a seizure could come any time, I have to go back and forth; from home to the hospital.  They tell me I should stay at the hospital but-”

“There’s no freedom, is there?” She nodded.  He was silent for a few nanos.  “Do you want to continue the story?”

“Yes.” She said softly.  He smiled sympathetically and opened the book, reading, trying to get his student to feel better.

*********The next solarcycle (day)***************

            “What’s wrong, Fuoco?  You don’t seem very interested in your studies.”  Ghiaccio said.  They were in the garden again, this time, sitting on chairs and he was teaching her.

            “Well…” she sighed.  “What’s the point in studying?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean, why bother studying?”

            “Well, the main objective of studying is to gain knowledge for-”

            “For what?” she asked.

            “Well…” he said, taken aback.  “For when you grow up-”

            “It’s ok if you’re going to grow up, but for me….” She stood up angrily, tears pouring out of her optics.  “For me…  I don’t even know if I going to live that long!  I might grow up to be an adult and have children!  And I might just die tomorrow!  Why should I study when I might die the very next solarcycle or hour?  It’s pointless!”

            Full of anger and sadness, Fuoco ran.  “Fuoco!” he called after her, standing up.  “Fuoco!”

**********Back inside, and outside Fuoco’s room***************

            “Fuoco!  Please, open the door!”  Ghiaccio yelled.

            “Go away.” She yelled back, her voice muffled.

            “Fuoco, I just want to talk to you.”

            “Just go away!”

            “No.  I won’t go.  Not until I talk to you.” He said firmly.  “Fuoco, you have to realize how precious life is.  Otherwise, it’d be a terrible waste.  The life we are given is very, very precious.  It’s a gift, and it’s supposed to be treasured, not stored away.  How much our lives are worth depends on how we use it.  I think…it’s be a very big waste, not to use this gift, don’t you think so?”

            The door opened and Fuoco stood in front of him, tears still streaming down her face, but she smiling all the same.  “Teacher…” She struggled to find the words.  She wiped her tears and said, “Thank you.”

*******The next solarcycle****************

            “Teacher?  Teacher?” Ghiaccio snapped back into existence.

            “Oh, sorry.” He muttered.  “Er, where were we again?” he glanced down at the book in his hands.  “Oh yeah, page 124, paragraph 6.  Ah…” he looked apologetic.  “Sorry, Fuoco.”

            The femme-bot laughed with glee.  “So even you can get distracted!”

            “Well…I’m not perfect, you know.”  She laughed even more.

            “Hahaha.  You’re so cute.”

            “What?” (Let’s assume that robots can blush, ok?  Thanks!) He knew he was blushing, but he couldn’t help it.  No one had told him he was cute before.

            “But it’s the truth.” She said, innocently.  He turned a deeper shade of red.  She grinned.  “Gotcha.” She said mischievously.

            “Fuoco…what?  Oh…” He realized that she had been teasing him.  “Ha ha, very funny.”  She smiled in a way that made him realize that she had, in fact, not been teasing him but telling the truth.  He blushed even more.

*********Later, at Ghiaccio’s home*******

            “Hello?” he picked up the phone.

            “Ghiaccio?” a soft voice answered.

            “Fuoco…what’s wrong?”

            “Well…the medic says I can’t go home because it’s too risky, so I want to let you know before we continue my lessons.”

            “You’re in the hospital?  What happened?”  He heard a weak and wheezy laugh.

            “Huf…It’s…huf…huf…just another…huf…seizure…” He heard the phone clatter.

            “Fuoco?  Fuoco?!  FUOCO!”

**********At the hospital******************

            He ran, breathless into the hospital.  “What room…is…Fuoco Nokojima…in?”  The nurse looked up from the datapad she had been reading, clearly annoyed, but she told him.

            “Patient Nokojima is in room…” she scanned the datapad on the desk.  “Room 569, down the hall, to your right and the first door you come across with.”

As soon as he heard this, he ran and in a flash he was outside her door.  He opened it and stepped inside.  “Fuoco…” The medic looked up.

“I wasn’t aware that she had a visitor.” The medic said softly.  He was and brown in colour and he had brown optics.  He typed something down into a datapad and said, “I’ll let you be.”  The door snapped shut behind him.

“Fuoco?” he stepped towards her.  “Fuoco?!”  When she didn’t answer or even smile a mischievous smile like she normally did whenever she was teasing, he knew.  He knew what had happened.  “No…”

________________________________________________________________________

            “You’ve been here for over 5 megacycles.  Are you ok, sir?”  He blinked and looked up.  The brown medic was there.

            “What?  5…megacycles?”  The medic nodded.

            “Are you a friend of hers?”

            “You…could…wait…” He had been stroking the femme’s hand and he realized that she clutched something in her hand.  “She’s holding something…” he said in wonder.

            “Yes, she is.  I tried to get it out, but it appears she had a death-grip on it before her spark left.” Ghiaccio said nothing, but stoked the femme’s hand a bit longer before gently prying her fingers loose.  Watched by the amazed medic, he smoothed out the paper and read what lay on it, silently in his mind.

            Teacher, by the time you read this, I may have already been gone.  I just want to thank you for helping me through my last days.  I never told you because I knew you’d just panic over it and wouldn’t read to me anymore.  Remember, you gave your word so you better not break it.  I just want to tell you that when you read this, I want to let you know…I know you’re looking for a job and that’s why you applied as my tutor.  But I’ll be dead soon so here’s a little advice.  Look through the newspapers on the counter next to this bed in the jobs section and you’ll find an ad circled in red.  I want you to join.  I’ve heard that bots who are upset after a loss that go into a mission under Optimus Primal come back happier.  I don’t want you to waste your life away, so please join.  Don’t come to my funeral, because that’ll make you even more upset.  Just go and apply for the job.  And Teacher?  I love you.  Thank you for helping me.

            Tears started to pour down his face again.  “Sir?” the startled medic said.  “Are you ok?”  He wiped his tears away, putting the paper in a sub-space pocket.  He would treasure it forever.  It was his only link to her, the femme he had loved.

            “I’m ok.”  He stood up.  He spotted the newspapers on the counter and saw one add circled in red.  He read the last line in it.

            ‘If you want to apply, contact me at 456-9510 and we’ll set up a job interview.’  He mentally remembered the number and turned to go.

            “Sir?  Aren’t you going to say goodbye to her?”

            “I…already have.” He left.  He would do it.  She wanted him to.  He would get the job.  He would make her proud.  He walked out of the building and stared at the stars in the night sky. “I promise I will.” He whispered.  “And Fuoco?  I love you too.”