Legacy by silvershadeus - Part 1
It's been a long time since I've done this. Written in a diary - or journal -
whatever you want to call it. The last time I did this was when I was still
alive, and that was years ago. Decades, really. It's funny how one of the first
things you lose touch of here is your sense of time.
When you're dead,
time ceases to have meaning. When you become whatever I am now - not quite dead,
and not quite alive - time is simply confusing. Things tend to get that way when
you have far too much of it - and an endless supply of more.
It's the
reason why there are so many clocks here. Why most of us wear watches, even
those like me who didn't bother to while we were alive. And even then I manage
to lose track of time puttering around in my lab or engrossed working on some
new invention. Sometimes I get lost in a book that I hope will tell me the
secret to making the sex-change potion I've searched for, for so
long.
003, my faithful little owl watches out for me at times like that.
She flutters around madly, hooting her little heart out to get my attention to
make sure I'm not late for staff meetings and the like.
When that
doesn't work she resorts to more drastic measures. Like pulling on my hair, or
dropping things on me. Never anything breakable however, she learned that lesson
early on after the incident with the specimen sample I had gotten for an
experiment.
The stench lingered for months.
Sometimes when
even those methods don't work she'll land on my head and work those sharp little
talons of hers. She's gotten to the point to where she doesn't draw blood, but
where her talons cause the most pain. It would be worth studying, if it weren't
my head she was using. She exercises remarkable muscle control, and
conscious thought. Amazing, really.
She's such a good friend, though. I
share all my secrets and my deepest desires with her. She's the only one of my
friends who knows why I want to create a sex-changing potion so badly. And she's
the only one who has never looked at me as though she honestly thought I was
crazy.
Oh, she gives me odd looks from time to time when I'm about to do
something particularly dangerous or stupid - but she never makes me feel stupid.
I know the others don't mean to make me feel that way - I know that. It's just
that when they turn those uncomprehending looks on me that I feel that way. When
they ask me if I really 'know what I'm doing' in that tone of voice that says
they think otherwise... You can only take things like that for so long before
they start to make an impression you. Before you start to wonder if maybe they
have a point.
Surely if so many people are in agreement, they must be
right, right?
Right.
Perhaps...but then again I was never much of
a conformist. If you were to ask any of my friends, they would tell you that.
The fact that I've kept my hair long instead of choosing a traditional short
hairstyle should prove that point more than adequately. That, and the goal of my
'life's work.' Surely no ordinary, conformist scientist would ever hope to
achieve what I do with all my being.
And then there is 003, of
course.
To me...she might as well be human. There are times when I look
into her eyes - they're quite fascinating, from a scientific standpoint - when I
swear she understands me perfectly. She's smarter than any owl I've ever heard
of. I'm not sure how I know, but I know that she's no normal owl. But that would
explain why she chooses to stay with me wouldn't it? A normal owl would have
fled long ago.
As I said, she's a good friend. Perhaps the best one that
I have ever had. She knows the things that trouble me, that keep me awake at
night. She knows the questions that I don't dare ask anyone else. And she knows
the things that pose such wonderful, maddening, frustrating, fascinating
puzzles for me to sort out.
And the fact that I have endless amounts of
time in which to figure those things out...
I can't help but wonder if
this is what being immortal is like. I know some of us would say that we
are immortal, but somehow I don't think so. There were others here before
us, that much I know. And with Hisoka joining our ranks, there is no doubt in my
mind that there will be more to come.
There is simply too much pain and
darkness in this world for there not to be. Too many people with their own
reasons to become Shinigami, even though not everyone is granted that honor. Or
cursed with the duty that comes with it - depending on whom you speak
to.
The things we do...they are not the things anyone should have to do.
They aren't the kinds of things that anyone should know about.
So I do
not think we are immortal. The very definition of the word proves that
point:
immortal, adj. 1. not subject to death. 2. perpetual; everlasting. 3. remembered through all time. -- n. 4. an immortal being. 5. a person of enduring fame.
How can we consider ourselves immortal if we have already died? And nothing,
not even gods or religion lasts forever. Countless ruins and fallen faiths down
on Earth prove that fact as well.
We are not dead, and we are not alive.
Nor are we immortal. We are something else, strung between life and death in
some delicate balance.
We laugh, we cry, we love...and we are capable of
hate. We feel the pain of unrequited love, and the bliss of mutual love. We feel
the cold and the heat. We feel hunger and thirst. We bleed when we are injured.
And we can die.
We all fear that second death because we know that there
will be no third chance after it. No returning as Shinigami. Nothing but to go
on to Heaven or Hell, or whatever lies between. So we do what we can to prevent
that from happening. We fight tooth and nail to see that we do not die
again.
Perhaps it was meant to be that way for us, though. If we truly
were immortal then we would not appreciate this second chance we have been
given. We would take needless risks, putting others and ourselves in danger. And
when you lose your fear of death, you also lose whatever appreciation you once
held for life. And that is not something that can ever be forgiven.
It's
a delicate balance that we must maintain every day of our existence, and we
never really take notice of that fact. Not to the point where we acknowledge it
on a daily basis. We are aware of it, on some level - but we do not act upon
that knowledge consciously.
On one side is death, and the other life. We
walk that middle ground, guarding both from danger. It is our duty, as
Shinigami.
Gods of Death.
But I digress. This was why I stopped
keeping a journal I think. My mind wanders off in some random direction and
keeps on going.
I wanted to keep a record of my thoughts and feelings on
my life here. For the next 'mad scientist' that comes along to take my place.
Because I know there will be one some day. As there will be someone to take
Chief Konoe's place. As there will be someone for Tatsumi, Tsuzuki and even
Hisoka. As there will be someone for everyone here, in time.
There will
be others, because nothing ever lasts forever, no matter how much we might wish
it to. No one can stand guard as we do forever. Eventually we must stand down
from our posts and let others take over where we cannot.
And I want my
successor to have the knowledge of what went on before they came here. Of the
people who held the line between life and death. Of my experiments, my
successes, my failures... and my family.
Because that is what they have
become to me. They crossed that line of co-worker to friend long ago, and again
from friend to family not so long ago. And it is not something that I would ever
give up, or regret. We have been through many things together that we would
never have been able to survive apart. That is what makes a stranger family. Not
some fickle tie of blood, but ties of the heart. Of the soul.
This
journal...this compilation of my experiences and thoughts will be my gift to
those who come after us. To you, who will read this when I am gone. A little
piece of immortality from someone who was once mortal. Here I will show the side
of myself that I do not show others freely. The part of me that understands the
darker side of life. The side of me that has seen the kind of hatred and evil
that human beings are capable of. The side of me that does not always laugh and
joke and smile.
To you I offer my world.
My life.
Hold it
with care and treat it well, for one day someone may do the same with yours.
Until then, I welcome you into mine.
~ Yutaka Watari ~
To be continued...