Author's Notes: Will be long. Some of what the story rides on is based on the idea that a guyver unit will provide the host with, if not exactly immortality, a greatly extended lifespan. This has been debated plenty and I don't feel like trying to argue for or against the point. For the sake of this story, I have made it so.
Fic Spoiler Warnings: Pretty much everything.
Fic Disclaimer: Guyver is not mine.
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and violence.
Summary: When an attack by Elgen short-circuits his control medal, Sho Fukamachi suddenly finds himself in a past he's all but forgotten. Haunted by memories of a future life he never lived and a strange connection to a now inactive unit-g, can Sho find it in himself to give up the normal life he could have had?
Prologue – In the Beginning was Everything that Came After.
"Second chances are a funny thing. Everyone always thinks that hindsight is 20/20, that if only they could go back and do things over they could fix all the problems in the universe. But really that's not how it works. When you get a second chance at something you tend to make the same mistakes all over again. Its not that you won't see things coming, its that when you regret something enough to want to change it you haven't really learned from it. All the bad stuff in life makes you the person you are, and if it didn't occur then you wouldn't be the person that wanted to prevent it. So you have to accept that some things are simply inevitable." - Lord Fukamachi, from a recorded meeting of the Great Council, Earth standard year 2351.
When he was five his mother died.
She had been walking home from the market when a car lost control as it came around a corner too fast. He had been out on the front walk waiting for her and playing in the light drifts of snow that had settled earlier that day. The sun had glinted brightly off the soft white fluff, filtering down through fluffy cotton clouds in streams of golden light.
In the long moments after the scream of tires and the horrible crunch as the car came to a final stop against a light post Sho could swear one of the beams fell to rest on her. She had looked beautiful there in the snow, glowing in the fading golden light and haloed in the brightest shade of red he'd ever seen.
The driver had come to see them after the funeral. His father had turned away at the man's apology, but Sho had looked up at the devastated face and had solemnly accepted. It was several years more before he fully grasped the finality of death, but he had never regretted forgiving the man.
When in later years the woman he had called mother faded to a vague memory he would still be able to recall how beautiful she had looked that day, forever asleep in the snow.
The girl that he loves will die in a hospital surrounded by her loved ones.
He will watch from far away, an outsider to the people she will have claimed as family. Some of them will wonder who the young man is that seems to mourn her so deeply, but it will not matter that they do not know him.
Before she passes she will tell him she is happy. She will thank him for watching over her and he will smile at her irony, for in the parts of his mind he likes to ignore he will know she has been supremely fortunate to have lived so long precisely because of his watchful gaze.
He will find some consolation in the fact it is a human condition and not an alien one that will finally silence her forever. He will not be there for her final breath, but he will know when it happens and he will cry for a very long time.
It will be a very long time after her passing before he will find it in himself to cry again.
The zoaniod was dangerous. More so than all the other's he'd faced so far.
He wasn't sure how he knew that, but every fiber of his being screamed that it would be better to leave this battle to another day. He was given no choice though, he was all that stood between it and his loved ones. In that moment they were all depending on him to be able to fight. He had to be able to defeat it. Dangerous or not, all other options were unthinkable.
A quick mental scan indicated his only potential help was down for the count, so this was going to have to work with just him.
A long tentacle lashed out and he dodged, unintentionally angling himself directly into the path of another one. It wrapped viciously around his neck, swiftly constricting itself to cut off his airway, but the crushing sensation was nothing to the violent jolt of electricity that followed. It burned across his nerves and he felt himself try ineffectually to scream around the noose that still held him.
It was only a blind determination not to his friends be taken that allowed him to drag an arm up and slash at the coil that was continuing to pump current through him. The length of flesh dropped away, twitching violently as electricity continued to arc across its severed surface.
The zoanoid snarled and its next attack was not directed at him, but at the people behind him. He could see the trajectory of the whip mentally and lurched forward to intercept. A small stumble in his haste and exhaustion and he had only the barest fraction of a second to contemplate the spark of energy coming directly at his head.
Then the world exploded into light.
When he is woken from his enforced sleep he will be surprised it is not Makishima come to finish him off but an old friend and enemy. By that time Guyver III will be long gone and much later, when he has time to consider it, he will wonder what has become of his former partner and murderer.
When he first wakes there are far more pressing things to wonder about though, the conflict that is destroying his home world has escalated almost beyond hope. Even so when he joins the front-lines it seems to provide some.
He will never believe he was a turning point in the war, but others will claim he is such in later years, when they have begun to rebuild in the aftermath. Somehow what he has saved is not what he ever envisioned himself to be fighting for, but after all that has happened he will think it was worth it none-the-less.
Old enemies will become close companions and he will mourn the passing of those too worn by the passage of time and ravages of war. Long stretches of time will pass as slowly he will watch the world return to something he almost remembers.
When he was six years old he moved with his father to the area he would remember later in life with the fondness of home. It is a frightening thing to a child to be uprooted though, and with his mother gone he felt doubly lost in the strange new setting.
She was crying the first time he met her because she'd skinned her knee.
He knew, as only little boys know, how dangerous it was to get too close to a girl. They had cooties and if you weren't careful they'd kiss you and you'd get them too (He wasn't sure what a cootie was, but he was pretty sure he didn't want one). All the same she was crying and he had been a sucker for crying even at that age so when she'd quieted down as he sat down next to her and asked what was wrong he knew he was going to have to risk it.
He carried her home that day and helped her older brother patch up her knee with entirely too much gauze and tape. It was the ugliest bandage he'd ever seen, but she seemed to like it. She'd giggled happily and to his utter disgust rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. He'd claimed he'd never forgive her for it, but the next day the three children were playing together.
When he bothered to think about it years later, he decided cooties weren't such an awful thing to be infected with after all.
Somewhere a car was burning and someone was screaming his name. Somewhere the sun was shining on his mother as she rocked him to sleep on an old porch he didn't remember. Somewhere the sky was purple and he was laughing with an old friend as they helped a transport ship to unload supplies for the new colonists. Somewhere a terrifying creature reared up and slashed at him, its talons shredding through the flesh of his abdomen. Somewhere three children were throwing snowballs at one another in glee at the winter's first freeze.
Lost. Confused. Awake.
Somewhere something that wasn't asleep woke up.
With its awareness Time jerked, sputtered, reformed and began again.
"Sho?" A familiar but unfamiliar voice was calling. He blinked in confusion as the blinding white coalesced into shapes.
"Mr. Fukamachi, are you alright?" The next voice was less familiar. Older. He blinked again, trying to reform the shapes into people. Slowly they sharpened and he found himself being studied by the concerned face of a girl that was dead. He felt nauseous as he drew his gaze away from her to look up at a bewildered teacher. The old man might have been someone he'd learned from once, but it felt as if it had all been so very long ago...
Yes, that was a good idea. Blinking a few more times vaguely at the dead girl he slumped forward into a faint.