Chobits - Untitled (Hideki Death)
Since I'm bored, I decided to go through my fanfiction folder and see what ideas I've decided not to pursue. One of those ideas is from Chobits. This story was supposed to be a branch off from a xxxHolic story. That xxxHolic story never got written, so this story remained in the doldrums as well.
After many years, I've decided to just post what little of the story was written. This part is self contained, and could function as a one-shot conversation between Chi and Ueda. However, it is supposed to be part of a larger story in which Hideki dies and Chi goes to the Witch to make a deal, so I'm listing this as incomplete.
Title: Untitled (Hideki Death)
Fandom: Chobits
Summary: How do you explain death to someone that can never die?
Characters: Chi, Ueda Hiroyasu, Motosuwa Hideki
Genre: Drama
Warnings: Character Death
Links: WordPress: Part 1
Created: 2005.10.30
Last Modified: 2006
====
Rain pattered relentlessly against the windows, doing their utmost to force their way into the tiny bakery. Ueda could only sigh as he sat behind the counter, knowing that the rain would drive off most of his customers at this hour. No one in their right mind would venture out into this weather simply to buy some bread. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the world for one brief moment before casting it into darkness again. He could see a few stragglers in the streets running quickly, trying to reach their destination before they became even more soaked. The sound of cars splashing water onto the pavement could be heard if he strained his ears, and he couldn’t help but remember that it was on a day like this when he had lost his first wife.
He had called Yumi earlier, telling her to head directly home after work instead of heading to the bakery, but she had refused and simply said that if he was worried, she would get Hideki to walk with her to the bakery, since he needed to go there to pick up Chi anyway. Still, the weather unsettled him, and he wondered if it had anything to do with his memory of that day, or if humans were naturally afraid of the wrath of heaven.
Chi sat next to him, fiddling with her uniform, the novelty of the storm having worn off after three hours of the same intensity of rain. Thunder clapped, shaking the tiny store, and he wondered if this was how the end of the world would feel like. Just as he was about to go find something to do in the shop, Chi pulled his sleeve lightly, innocent eyes staring into his.
“What is Death?” she asked suddenly. He stared at her, her question taking him off guard.
“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?” he laughed nervously, trying to deter her from the subject.
“Because Chi doesn’t understand,” she stated simply, cocking her head slightly. “Chi wants to know.”
“How do I explain this?” he smiled at her, his eyes frowning at the same time. How would I explain this to a child? Would I even explain this to a child? But children just seemed to know what death was without ever being taught. It seemed that they were born with the implicit knowledge that people live, and in the end, they die. It was the natural way of things, the fate that all living things shared. It wasn’t something that needed to be taught.
“When Manager was at Hideki’s house, Manager said something about people’s death. Chi doesn’t really understand, so Chi wants to ask Manager,” she said again, childlike innocence making her unaware of what she was asking.
“Well,” he started, but he simply let the word hang there, not quite sure how to continue. “You see,” he tried again, debating internally whether or not he should bend the meaning a little. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted Chi to know what true death was. He looked at Chi’s innocent eyes staring back at him, and knew that he should tell her the truth for her own good. There was no point in denying the inevitable, and it was best if she knew what death was before it caught her off guard. It was moments like these that made him pity persocoms. Humans could die, and humans could forget. But what about the persocoms that they left behind? They could never die. They could never forget. They would always remember, forever and ever, until the day of their destruction. They would never know the comfort of forgetting, of moving on. To them, every moment in their memory was as vivid as the moment that it had happened.
“Death…is when something living stops moving,” he finally said, wondering if that definition was adequate enough.
“Something living?” Chi asked, tilting her head to the side, not quite understanding.
“Things that live are things that can breathe, grow, and move, and give birth to others like themselves,” he said, trying his best to make a general definition.
“Flowers are not living?” Chi asked, her memory presenting no occasion when a flower picked itself up and began walking around.
“Flowers are living,” he replied, unsure of how to prove they were living. “Being a living thing doesn’t necessarily mean that it must breathe, grow, move, and have the ability to give birth. It just has to have at least one of those things.”
“Cars are living things? Cars move,” Chi said, becoming a little excited as she thought she had grasped the concept.
“Uh…no,” he said, scratching his head as he wondered what was the best way to describe what a living thing was. “Well… It’s a living thing as long as it can breathe. The others aren’t really necessary,” he said, wondering if that narrower definition was best.
“But flowers don’t breathe,” Chi protested.
“Well, they kind of do,” he said, smiling nervously at his inability to explain something he had always though of as common sense. “If you put a flower completely underwater, where there is no air, the flower will die. That’s how you know it’s living.”
“But what is ‘die’?” Chi asked again. Ueda stared at her, realizing he was at the beginning of the entire explanation again.
“Dying is when you stop growing. It’s when you stop breathing,” he said, wondering if he was going in circles. Thankfully, Chi brightened up, as if she finally knew what he was talking about.
“Chi doesn’t understand what ‘stop breathing’ is, but Chi knows when something stops growing,” she said happily. “Manager’s bread stops growing when Manager takes the bread out of the oven. Manager’s bread dies everyday,” she said, happy to have learned something new. Ueda felt like hitting himself on the head for being so stupid. His terrible explanations had led Chi to the wrong place again.
“Chi, bread isn’t a living thing,” he said, wondering if he even knew what a living thing was. One could say that bread was alive since there were yeast in the bread, growing, reproducing, breathing. But it was common sense not to say that bread was a living thing!
“Chi?”
“Hmm…” He crossed his arms, trying to think of the best way to give the definition that would help Chi in understanding what death and dying was. He sighed. Perhaps the best way to explain death would be to explain what it meant from a human’s perspective, instead of trying to be so general. What did it mean to die?
“Dying is when somebody stops moving, and you know that they’ll never move again,” he said softly, trying to keep as much of his past out of his explanation as it was possible. “It’s when you know that person will never speak to you again. They’ll never hear you again, and even if they didn’t say good-bye, you know that it’s the final ‘good-bye’ and you’ll never be able to see them again.”
“Death is ‘good-bye’?” Chi whispered, her face full of pain and sadness. “Chi doesn’t like good-byes. Chi hopes that no one will ever die.” She frowned, her face almost appearing as if she were crying. He patted her gently on the head.
“People usually are not willing to die, so you don’t have to worry too much about it,” he said reassuringly. “Good-byes occur fairly commonly, but dying doesn’t.” Chi looked down at her knees, clenching her fists tightly. He sighed in relief, glad that he had finally been able to get the definition across. He looked at Chi, knowing it was hard for her to deal with this new bit of knowledge, and decided that it would be best if he didn’t disturb her for a while. Surely there must be something to do in the back of the store.
“Manager,” she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes?” He wondered what other questions she would have. She struggled a bit before she asked her question.
“Will Manager die?”
He was again surprised by her question. He tried his best to give a reassuring smile as he replied truthfully to her question.
“Yes. Someday, I’ll die. All humans die someday.”
“Even Hideki? Even Chi?” she asked, terrible fear coursing through her. He smiled sadly as he again replied with the truth.
“Yes. Even Hideki, and in a way, even Chi.” When she didn’t ask any more questions, he escaped to the back of the bakery, unsure if he would be able to answer any more of her questions.
Should he have told her the truth? He had felt that it was his duty to truthfully give her the information she wanted about the meaning of life and death, but he couldn’t help but feel that it was wrong of him to state so bluntly that one day they would all die. That crushed look on her face was more than he could bear, and he wished that he could have answered her in a different way. But the truth was the truth, and he was never one for lying out of convenience. He felt bad that he had broken Chi’s blissful ignorance, but it was best that she knew what was the inevitable fate that they all shared, humans and persocoms alike.
But even though he had managed to convince himself that he had done the right thing, he still felt a pang of guilt and pain throbbing in his heart.
discontinued
After many years, I've decided to just post what little of the story was written. This part is self contained, and could function as a one-shot conversation between Chi and Ueda. However, it is supposed to be part of a larger story in which Hideki dies and Chi goes to the Witch to make a deal, so I'm listing this as incomplete.
Title: Untitled (Hideki Death)
Fandom: Chobits
Summary: How do you explain death to someone that can never die?
Characters: Chi, Ueda Hiroyasu, Motosuwa Hideki
Genre: Drama
Warnings: Character Death
Links: WordPress: Part 1
Created: 2005.10.30
Last Modified: 2006
====
Rain pattered relentlessly against the windows, doing their utmost to force their way into the tiny bakery. Ueda could only sigh as he sat behind the counter, knowing that the rain would drive off most of his customers at this hour. No one in their right mind would venture out into this weather simply to buy some bread. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the world for one brief moment before casting it into darkness again. He could see a few stragglers in the streets running quickly, trying to reach their destination before they became even more soaked. The sound of cars splashing water onto the pavement could be heard if he strained his ears, and he couldn’t help but remember that it was on a day like this when he had lost his first wife.
He had called Yumi earlier, telling her to head directly home after work instead of heading to the bakery, but she had refused and simply said that if he was worried, she would get Hideki to walk with her to the bakery, since he needed to go there to pick up Chi anyway. Still, the weather unsettled him, and he wondered if it had anything to do with his memory of that day, or if humans were naturally afraid of the wrath of heaven.
Chi sat next to him, fiddling with her uniform, the novelty of the storm having worn off after three hours of the same intensity of rain. Thunder clapped, shaking the tiny store, and he wondered if this was how the end of the world would feel like. Just as he was about to go find something to do in the shop, Chi pulled his sleeve lightly, innocent eyes staring into his.
“What is Death?” she asked suddenly. He stared at her, her question taking him off guard.
“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?” he laughed nervously, trying to deter her from the subject.
“Because Chi doesn’t understand,” she stated simply, cocking her head slightly. “Chi wants to know.”
“How do I explain this?” he smiled at her, his eyes frowning at the same time. How would I explain this to a child? Would I even explain this to a child? But children just seemed to know what death was without ever being taught. It seemed that they were born with the implicit knowledge that people live, and in the end, they die. It was the natural way of things, the fate that all living things shared. It wasn’t something that needed to be taught.
“When Manager was at Hideki’s house, Manager said something about people’s death. Chi doesn’t really understand, so Chi wants to ask Manager,” she said again, childlike innocence making her unaware of what she was asking.
“Well,” he started, but he simply let the word hang there, not quite sure how to continue. “You see,” he tried again, debating internally whether or not he should bend the meaning a little. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted Chi to know what true death was. He looked at Chi’s innocent eyes staring back at him, and knew that he should tell her the truth for her own good. There was no point in denying the inevitable, and it was best if she knew what death was before it caught her off guard. It was moments like these that made him pity persocoms. Humans could die, and humans could forget. But what about the persocoms that they left behind? They could never die. They could never forget. They would always remember, forever and ever, until the day of their destruction. They would never know the comfort of forgetting, of moving on. To them, every moment in their memory was as vivid as the moment that it had happened.
“Death…is when something living stops moving,” he finally said, wondering if that definition was adequate enough.
“Something living?” Chi asked, tilting her head to the side, not quite understanding.
“Things that live are things that can breathe, grow, and move, and give birth to others like themselves,” he said, trying his best to make a general definition.
“Flowers are not living?” Chi asked, her memory presenting no occasion when a flower picked itself up and began walking around.
“Flowers are living,” he replied, unsure of how to prove they were living. “Being a living thing doesn’t necessarily mean that it must breathe, grow, move, and have the ability to give birth. It just has to have at least one of those things.”
“Cars are living things? Cars move,” Chi said, becoming a little excited as she thought she had grasped the concept.
“Uh…no,” he said, scratching his head as he wondered what was the best way to describe what a living thing was. “Well… It’s a living thing as long as it can breathe. The others aren’t really necessary,” he said, wondering if that narrower definition was best.
“But flowers don’t breathe,” Chi protested.
“Well, they kind of do,” he said, smiling nervously at his inability to explain something he had always though of as common sense. “If you put a flower completely underwater, where there is no air, the flower will die. That’s how you know it’s living.”
“But what is ‘die’?” Chi asked again. Ueda stared at her, realizing he was at the beginning of the entire explanation again.
“Dying is when you stop growing. It’s when you stop breathing,” he said, wondering if he was going in circles. Thankfully, Chi brightened up, as if she finally knew what he was talking about.
“Chi doesn’t understand what ‘stop breathing’ is, but Chi knows when something stops growing,” she said happily. “Manager’s bread stops growing when Manager takes the bread out of the oven. Manager’s bread dies everyday,” she said, happy to have learned something new. Ueda felt like hitting himself on the head for being so stupid. His terrible explanations had led Chi to the wrong place again.
“Chi, bread isn’t a living thing,” he said, wondering if he even knew what a living thing was. One could say that bread was alive since there were yeast in the bread, growing, reproducing, breathing. But it was common sense not to say that bread was a living thing!
“Chi?”
“Hmm…” He crossed his arms, trying to think of the best way to give the definition that would help Chi in understanding what death and dying was. He sighed. Perhaps the best way to explain death would be to explain what it meant from a human’s perspective, instead of trying to be so general. What did it mean to die?
“Dying is when somebody stops moving, and you know that they’ll never move again,” he said softly, trying to keep as much of his past out of his explanation as it was possible. “It’s when you know that person will never speak to you again. They’ll never hear you again, and even if they didn’t say good-bye, you know that it’s the final ‘good-bye’ and you’ll never be able to see them again.”
“Death is ‘good-bye’?” Chi whispered, her face full of pain and sadness. “Chi doesn’t like good-byes. Chi hopes that no one will ever die.” She frowned, her face almost appearing as if she were crying. He patted her gently on the head.
“People usually are not willing to die, so you don’t have to worry too much about it,” he said reassuringly. “Good-byes occur fairly commonly, but dying doesn’t.” Chi looked down at her knees, clenching her fists tightly. He sighed in relief, glad that he had finally been able to get the definition across. He looked at Chi, knowing it was hard for her to deal with this new bit of knowledge, and decided that it would be best if he didn’t disturb her for a while. Surely there must be something to do in the back of the store.
“Manager,” she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes?” He wondered what other questions she would have. She struggled a bit before she asked her question.
“Will Manager die?”
He was again surprised by her question. He tried his best to give a reassuring smile as he replied truthfully to her question.
“Yes. Someday, I’ll die. All humans die someday.”
“Even Hideki? Even Chi?” she asked, terrible fear coursing through her. He smiled sadly as he again replied with the truth.
“Yes. Even Hideki, and in a way, even Chi.” When she didn’t ask any more questions, he escaped to the back of the bakery, unsure if he would be able to answer any more of her questions.
Should he have told her the truth? He had felt that it was his duty to truthfully give her the information she wanted about the meaning of life and death, but he couldn’t help but feel that it was wrong of him to state so bluntly that one day they would all die. That crushed look on her face was more than he could bear, and he wished that he could have answered her in a different way. But the truth was the truth, and he was never one for lying out of convenience. He felt bad that he had broken Chi’s blissful ignorance, but it was best that she knew what was the inevitable fate that they all shared, humans and persocoms alike.
But even though he had managed to convince himself that he had done the right thing, he still felt a pang of guilt and pain throbbing in his heart.
discontinued