When Hiroaki was born, his mother was very sick. She could barely do anything, but while she was alive, she would always hold him close. His father was busy often, but nevertheless visited whenever he could. Supposedly, he would occasionally bring his work to them and continue, playing with his growing son. Unfortunately, before Hiroaki was old enough to remember his mother, her sickness had overtaken her. She had died alongside her beloved husband and child.
Hiroaki started to hang around his father more. Hiroaki didn't really get out much during this time, and instead he spent most of his time watching his father work hard on his robotic inventions. He started to work alongside him, and they grew closer and closer. Despite how much Hiroaki loved robots, he rarely expressed it unless he was alone with those he trusted. I met him when we were in our fourth year of middle school. When I started to fall for him and spend more time with him, I'd see the proud gleam in his eyes whenever he'd look upon a robot his father had invented.
He'd exclaim how much he admired the blood, sweat, tears and heart that went into everything him and his father did. I feel deeper in love with him. We started to date right before the start of our first year at high school. Him and I weren't meant to last. Or at least not in this capacity.
One day I rushed to his home, and he lay there in bed, pale and sickly. He would give a weak smile every time he'd see me. It was so sweet, but when he was asleep his father and I talked. Apparently he came down with the same thing his mother had. His dad did whatever he could to pretend to be tough, like his son didn't have much time to live, but whenever he was out of his son's sight, he'd cry and cry. He loved his son just as much as he did his wife, but he cried ever harder knowing that he'd lose his son before his son lost him.
He wanted to be beside Hiroaki up until his death - not until Hiroaki's. But in this reality, he would have no such luck. The days before he passed away, his business was shut down, and on his funeral, many from school - including our own classmates, underclassmen, overclassmen, teachers and the head master, and from work, and from around the neighborhood came.
His few surviving family and far larger friend count quietly visited his corpse, saying their prayers and final words. His dad acted like he had no more tears left, but like me, he simply felt his throat tighten in sorrow.
One might think this story ends here, but it doesn't.
His father begun to strive to make the greatest robot there ever would be; he wished to resurrect his son again, but he knew this was impossible. Instead, he strove to make a robot that would look and act as closely to his son as possible. It didn't happen until the year 2020, 40 years after his son's death.
By then, I had married a man and had kids. I was a happy woman, and I think I could've stayed like this for the rest of my life. It was one evening that I heard a familiar voice. My husband had been away working, and my children at school, that was when I heard a voice I hadn't heard in a long time, when I peeked out, i saw Hiroaki. He looked a bit off though. His eyes were screens, and his ears attennae sticking out from the back, making him resemble something of an elf, but otherwise his mannerisms were exactly the same. I came out, and announced my presence.
People thought it was odd for an almost 60 year old woman to do this, but I was confused. Why was he back? I told him who I was, and somehow the robot - no, Hirokaki believed me. That was when I learned what happened. Hiroaki wasn't sad, particularly. he didn't know the Hiroaki from 40 years ago, despite also remembering the same things as he had. His father knew a lot about his son, but there were some details his father skipped out, or perhaps hadn't unlocked in his son's memories for one reason or another.
I told him how the Hiroaki of 40 years ago died, and how I admired him, and how i hadn't thought of him in many years. I knew I had to move on; the dead do not come back. And yet here was one such being, or at least something close to it. He could remember me, just barely, but just enough that we could be friends. I had changed a lot, yes, but I was still very much me.
We became best friends before he really needed my help again.
It was on a day that his 87 year old father lay sick in bed. He could barely move anymore, everything hurt and he would cough whenever he'd push himself even slightest bit. His father still dearly loved Hiroaki, and a part of him felt guilty that he would leave like this. He still viewed him as his beloved son, despite knowing the truth, but before he passed away, he remembered something that he wanted Hiroaki to see.
In his bed, he handed Hiroaki a diary. The diary was written by his wife - Hiroaki's mother. He told him the stories behind each entree, they laughed and cried together. It was hard for his father, but still, he was the happiest he had been. It was one night Hiroaki was simply sitting in his room. A soft alarm went off. The alarm told Hiroaki something, but he couldn't quite believe he. He got up and ran to his father's room. And saw his father laying there still.
A robot he may have been, but he had never felt hollow until that day. He knew his father was ready, but when it came to people he looked up to, he never imagined or went deep into thinking about what it his world would be like if they were gone. And here he was facing such a reality. The person he most admired and was most close with left this world.
He came to the next closest person; me. He knew that I had lost my parents a few years before he was created. He consulted me for advice, and I told him that it was okay to cry, but ti was okay to remember that his father was as ready as he could ever be. He was gone, and maybe the boy he was created after could meet and speak to his father. They must have had a lot to catch up with.
We hugged. He was not living, but still I could feel a warmth to his touch. I knew this whole time, but never again did I feel it so strongly. But maybe, Hiroaki was back. Maybe Hiroaki wasn't literally, but his heart and soul was still with his dad and me to the very end. Human or robot, I could still feel a genuine heart beating.
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| Drawn by "Zephyr", Colored by "Eksevis" |
If Continued:
Publicizing it could greatly enhance robotics engineering, and allow some people to "bring back" their loves ones.
Keeping it could allow Hiroaki to study it and improve it, later and further improving robotics himself.
And destroying it could stop people form weakening and trivializing the dead.
Probably to most people and Hiroaki and his best friend (and ex girlfriend) decide it'd be best to destroy it. It is unlikely any other robot like Hiroaki will ever be created again.
Eventually, even though Hiroaki could live as long as he wants to, he decides to allow himself to fall into disrepair. The story would then end with Hiroaki, the living bot losing power and forever shutting off, leaving behind his old friend.
Of course she would be sad, but as impressive and heartfelt as Hiroaki was, such a power and tech is best left forgotten and destroyed. With him gone, only stories remained, and only one old woman held them close.
Once her boyfriend 40 years ago, and her best friend later in her life, he would long be remembered for who he was; a genuinely good person who held his friends and family close, who may have never known his mother, but still could admire his father's stories of her. He didn't need to be a hero to all; just a hero to those close to him.
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