Chapter 1 - Why?

Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Why do you push me away? Why won't you let me touch you? Why won't you let me look at you? Why won't you let me help you?

I found you here a long time ago. I come back everyday just like I say I will. I stay by your side, even after what they say. Everyday I come. Everyday you turn away. I don't understand. You have nothing left. But you won't let me give you anything.

Why won't you leave this place? This abandon building with blood on that wall? Why do you stay here? When I see it only brings you pain. You say this place has a purpose. When all it is, is just an abandon building.

Why do you hide behind those shades? Why do you turn your back on me?

I try to help you. I try to show you happiness. I try.

Why won't you let me help you?

But I know the real reason you stay here. This building is like you. Broken, and battered. Too forgotten for anyone to bother to delete it. Just like you.

I found you here, long ago. I was running away from my home. Running away from my stepparents. And I heard your cries. I was running, you were hiding. You laid on the ground, your clothes torn, your face bruised. Your back was turned to me, and it was hard to see in the darkness. I crept silently towards you. You stopped your cries, and crawled away from me. But I ran after you, you were too weak to even get up.

"Get away from me!" You cried.

But I didn't go away. I stayed. I saw your blue eyes.

You said you were Agent Smith.

Why? Why? Why?

Why won't you take what I have to give?
I believed you. You wore a suit, and edged sunglasses were in your hand. I did not run. You did not chase me.

All my life I have been told stories of Neo, and Agent Smith. Stories all saying of how evil you were. How blind you were. Some say you liked the taste of blood. Some say you are more artistic. Either way, you were the bad guy. And Neo won, saving us, bringing this peace between man and machine. You tried to kill us all. Even though you say that is true, I did not see that Agent Smith. I saw Smith lying on the floor. In pain.

But in a way you have never gotten up.

I stayed there in the corner with you. Even though you fought me, you were too weak to make me leave. You said you never had slept before, you said you'd never would. But you were too weak. You fell asleep at my feet. I watched you sleep. I watched you, protected you from things I didn't yet understand. I didn't go to sleep that night.

Why won't you let me come closer?

You seemed so peaceful that night. A broken window brought in the moonlight to shine upon you.

Then you woke up, and saw me still there. Why were you angry? I still don't understand. You told me to leave. You threatened me, but I knew you were too weak to do anything. I never left you.

I stayed with you, and I didn't know why. I was too young then.

I only left you to get food. I came back with apples, but you refused to eat one.

Why won't you eat anything?

I tried to take care of you, Smith. Forgive me, I tried. No, I'm trying.

You made me go home, you used long complicated words that you had to explain to me, and you made me go home. But I came back the next day. You say you want to be left alone. I know that isn't true. I leave, you die. I'm all you have.

Everyday I come back. I say I'll come back the next, and I do. Sometimes with things. I gave you laptop to see the rest of the world, but you only put it in the corner. I gave you books, some on Neo, some on Agents, but they only take up space you say.

Why won't you take what I give?

You always tell me to go away, even though by now you know I won't. I didn't understand. You were not the Smith from the stories. You were just a broken man, not letting anyone mend your wounds.

You should know by now, I like to mend the wounds of the dead.

You refuse my help, even though I still give it.

I stayed with you all I could. I'd come by before school, and come after. I'd stay until I'd have to go home to sleep. My stepparents didn't care, they never asked where I was.

Sometimes I swear I heard you crying before I came. But you say I'm only hearing things. I know you must cry. It seems like your life was full of pain. I did research on you. To me it seemed you were only angry, and no one was willing to help you.

I'm willing.

Why aren't you?

Sometimes I made you tell me about the years before. When you had your copies and your power. When you fought Neo. That was nearly fifty years ago. I try and tell you what has happened to the world since then, but you don't listen. So I listen to you, and I ask you about Neo. But you make me call him Mr. Anderson.

You say how you almost defeated him. How you almost won. You had come so close, but you couldn't have been farther.

I know it hurts you to recall the past. I can see it in your eyes. You look a way when you speak of it. But you always stalk about it. You don't want to forget what you were, what you had. You don't want to forget your mistakes.

I try and get you out into the rest of the world, but you don't let me. You say you can smell humans. You smell me. You call me a virus. I call you broken. We get angry. Well, you get angry.

Why do you deny?

You deny that you get angry, and this only makes you more angry. You deny you feel emotion, when I see in your blue eyes pain and sorrow. I see eyes that have cried. I'm sorry.

The world doesn't know you like I do. To me you a program in denial. You feel such pain. But to others you are only the Agent that tried to kill us. They won't listen to me. We were studying the war in class. I got in a fight with the teacher on you. My friends think I'm weird. They're not really my friends, they just say I'm weird. They say things about you, and that you're too old for me. They don't understand. And I sometimes see your theories on humans in them.

I fight for you.

Why do you fight me?

Sometimes you say you'll try and kill us again, I know that isn't true. You won't even step outside that building. You won't take my hand.

Sometimes you'd yell at me. Sometimes you'd hit a hole in the wall. Sometimes you'd wear those damn sunglasses. Sometimes you scared me. But you never hurt me. You couldn't. And now I know there is good in you. Sometimes you help me with my homework, and tell me more efficient ways of anything. You don't wear those sunglasses around me. You remember my birthday, and sometimes get me something. Sometimes you smile behind my back.

But I know that smile never lasts long. I don't know this hatred you keep telling me about. This hatred you have for us. I don't see it. You say you hated us. You would have chosen deletion over being trapped with us. But they key word there is would. Not now, but then.

But I know your wounds are still not healed. Sometimes I sneak around and I watch you. You speak his name.

"Why, Mr. Anderson? Why? Why?" You scream.

Sometimes you scream in the shadows. You tell what happened. You say Mr. Anderson went inside you. You say he broke you. Tore your code, made you bleed. You say it hurt. I believe you.

All you are is a program searching for a purpose. You were once an Agent, then Mr. Anderson took that away from you. Then your purpose was to kill him, and rule this place, but he took it away from you again. You have no purpose now. You mumbled all the time that word, purpose. You scare me sometimes, but I never leave you.

Your wounds may never heal. Pretty much, because you won't let them.

You have to let go.

But you won't.

You always ask me why I stay with you. You always ask me why I laugh at the way you talk. You ask me why I'm scared. Why I'm sad. Why I come to you when my stepfather hits me. Why I come to you and cry. Why I fight you. Why, why, why.

But I always ask why too.

I don't understand you, you don't even want to understand me. Why don't you?

We are only brought together by our wounds. I try to heal yours, but you won't heal mine. You can't, until we heal yours.

You ask why I stay. I never give you an answer. Why I cry on your shoulder? I never answer. But you never answer me. Why do you ask me things? Why do you let me cry on your shoulder?

You are the only thing I have close to a father, a brother, a friend. Kind of sad isn't it? My stepparents only scream. My stepfather only hits me. My teachers don't even think I have chance at getting an A. No one is willing to be my friend. No one cares about me. I don't know if you truly do either.

But you are all I have. I am all you have. Without me, you'd be left here alone. Screaming to nothing. Yelling his name. But that isn't really his name. His name is Neo, not Mr. Anderson, but it doesn't matter to you does it?

Why do you let me come back to you?

Ever since that day, long ago. I've stay with you. Ever since I was a child. You've always been there for me, but you wouldn't understand my affection to you. You don't want to know. Even though you ask me why.

I've protected you, you've protected me. But you'd never understand that. You aren't willing to. Always you ask, why, why, why. Why do you ask, when you know you won't understand? You still hate us in a way. Hate the smell of us. Yet you always let me come to you. You hate us, and you don't want to understand emotions. You don't want to, you'll never accept it. Never will you see your defeat. Or choose to understand us. You want to know what it is like. To feel the cold air, or happiness. You want to know, but not understand.

Why?

Can't you see I try to help you? Of course not. You are always blind. Such beautiful blue eyes, that seem so wrong for an Agent, are always blinded.

Please let me help. . .

Please. . .

Why won't you let me?

Why Agent?

Why? Why? Why!?

Why Smith!?

I've asked myself that question for a very long time now. . . Never really saying it to you. Sometimes I stare at you, when your back is turned. Always questioning, knowing I may never have answers. You always said curiosity was humanity's biggest flaw. I guess, you're right. Countless weeks I spend pondering that question. Wanting to ask you, but never will.

I'm not a child anymore, Smith. It's been years. I don't think you've noticed. I don' t think you want to notice. You haven't really looked at me anymore. . . You don't want to see my aged body. You don't want to know about the years gone by since I met you. . . I'm sorry. It's been years. I'm twenty-five now. And you haven't missed one birthday. I smile.

I wish you'd let me help you. . .

I've seen you in pain for so long. I'm so sorry. Smith, please stop. Please understand. Please stop asking why. Please heal. Let me help. No more pain, Smith. No more pain. . . It's hard to watch you all the time. My Smith. My poor Smith. Let me heal your wounds.

I don't even have the heart to tell you of Neo's return. There is a boy that can fly here now. They say it is Neo, finally returned. Even the Oracle says he is. I can't tell you! I know it will only bring you more pain.

I try to help, but I know you'll only push me away.

I try to push into the world, you only run away.

I try to strip you of your suit, make the pain go away, but you refuse.

I try to take you sunglasses, but you turn your head.

I try to find you, but you only become more lost.

My Smith. . .

I'm so sorry. . .

I'm not a little girl anymore. But I still have the pains I've always had. You are all I have.

And I stand here, watching you. You face the window, gazing on the little sunlight you get from it. It hurts you know. . . I know you. Why won't you look at me? Why do you stare at nothing? What are you thinking? Are you thinking of the pain?

Then I see you turn your head down. Yes, it is the pain.

I wipe my teary eyes. It hurts, I know it hurts for you too. I walked over to you. And I wrap my arms around you. You are surprised by the touch, I know. You raise your head.

"Akira. . ." You say my name.

I know. You've never been held before. Even though you really need to. You don't move, I don't think you want me to stop. You don't even look at me. You don't want to. Smith. . . Let me see those blue eyes, please. You don't know what to do. You're going to ask why, aren't you? Go ahead, I'm used to it.

But you don't. You don't move. You stay still, leaving me be. You let me hold you. I hold you tighter.

"Smith. . ." I say. "It hurts. . ."

So long I wanted to tell you.

You sigh, and then raise our hand, and you hold mine. I don't believe it. You hold my hand, and squeeze it tighter. You don't want to be alone. Don't worry. I'll spend the night here.

"I know." You say.

Oh, Smith. My Smith. . .

"Akira. . . Tell me what it is like." You say.

"What?"

"What is it like out there? Why? Why? Why are you like this?"

I squeeze you tighter, you still holding my hand.

I will tell you. You will as why. I will answer. This time. I know you will listen. I know you will understand. It's been so long. Now you have to.

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