Disclaimer: is redundant. I don't own Rockman.EXE, only this fanfiction, which I make no money off of. Don't sue and don't plagiarize.
After finishing watching the Beast season, I'm annoyed that Rockman and Trill got this long, sappy, emotional goodbye and Netto and Iris didn't.
This was written for my second year anniversary on and also as my 30th fic. Takes place sometime during the walking to the labs and all. Contains spoilers, or at least references to them.
what is
b e a u t i f u l
The city was destroyed. Having seen many of the settlements in Beyondard fall into this fate, he was surprised no longer by this one's condition. Still, he was quite fascinated, if not a bit intimidated at the way the buildings had come to ruin.
Everywhere—crushed steel, shattered glass, charred wood. Centuries of meticulous design and creation leveled in minutes. Blood snaked through the minute cracks of the sidewalk, and he couldn't help but scuff his trainers every few feet for fear the liquid would permanently etch into his soles.
It was early morning, still dark. For some reason he had woken up early and it had occurred to him that he wanted to explore the city.
There were skyscrapers, tall and ugly monsters that might have once touched the sky if not for the war that toppled them. There were houses and quaint little corner shops, some of their signs still readable through the ash. He walked around the harsh, wide cracks in the pavement, but dared not peek into their chasms. The heart of the city was closer now.
A breeze pulled persistently through the sky, and up ahead he saw it ghost through long, light brown hair.
"Iris!"
She was sitting on some part of a building that had fallen off sideways, her legs dangling over three feet of air. Ahead of her, the rubble littering the ground seemed to stretch on forever. He pulled himself up next to her.
"Are the others up yet, Hikari-kun?" she spoke.
He shook his head. "Nah, I'm the only one who got up early."
"I see."
"This place is pretty ruined, huh?"
"We will see worse," was all she said before falling silent.
For a time the wind blew.
He began to notice the wreckage less and less the more he stared; he found his attention instead straying to the girl next to him.
He had never experienced anyone like her before, from the secrecy steeped in her skin to the way she spoke, manipulating the sounds to stir with the air. She was so unlike the girls he knew, painted of fading pastels instead of the bright, boasting markers that seemed to color Meiru-chan and the others. It didn't matter that she was a digital form in a body of plastic bones; it mattered that she was here and now, next to him and looking all too human for him to consider otherwise.
It hit him. He wanted to talk.
And the questions tore at each other like acid in his mind. He couldn't pick which, and with each passing second the silence seemed more poignant, intense. The thought of breaking it was much too sinful, and so his curiosity twisted and coiled on itself, uncomfortable and unbearable. He struggled a few moments longer before giving up.
Then Iris spoke, and he barely caught the words before they mixed with the wind and were carried away.
"Hikari-kun, are the sunrises like this in Beyondard?"
He gave a slight start, and looked at the sky.
It must have been growing steadily brighter as time passed, but he had been too ensnared in his thoughts to notice. Mixed with the palest of blues were ghostly tinges of red and orange, their colors streaking through the blue like ribbons. The veins of the sky glowed silver of their own accord in the presence of the sun. He had paid all his attention to sunsets lately; he had forgotten the beauty of night releasing its hold over day.
"Yeah...they're like this."
The city was lightening under the sun. He could see corners of shade and expanses of light, and while they did not contrast very much yet, the difference was apparent.
"Say, Iris..." A single question had presented itself in his mind after all of his agonizing. He hesitated and bit his lip before continuing slowly, determinedly looking down. "How much of Beyondard is destroyed like this?"
She answered, "Much," and paused, folding her hands in her lap. Then, "All of the big cities are targeted and destroyed. Everything of worth to the armies is taken, and only the wreckage remains."
"I...I'm sorry."
Her gaze flickered quietly over to him. "It's all right. Once the war is over we will be able to rebuild everything."
"Yeah…"
He smiled at her. He smiled often, not for the subtleties but for the reassurance. Her eyes stayed on his, and they were the softest shades of green.
On instinct, he found himself reaching over and covering her hand with his. It was just that whenever they touched, they were always running, their hands caught in the slipstream of sweat and desperation. He wanted to experience the feel of her, that warmth tinged with cold in a setting like this. She didn't protest, and her fingers created the tiniest curl over his.
Little by little the sun climbed the sky, casting morning over the city. The destruction was sharp now. He saw the small details spared before—the burn marks on brick, the drops of long-dried blood near the fallen buildings.
The city was suddenly more terrible, pulling over the dull curiosity he felt to a deep apprehension of all broken things. He could almost smell the ruin; it was the tired scent of mold and dust and smoke tinged with the copper of blood. It was faintly acidic, and for the first time he thought of ghosts. Dead remains all around—were the spirits still here? Everything was either the yellow of light or the black of dark, and the black was unknown. The cracks in the ground formed a sort of spiderweb pattern, converging in a circle right in the center of the city. His heart thumped, skipped a beat, and thumped again.
He had forgotten about Iris. His fingernails sunk into her skin as his eyes widened.
But then a butterfly drifted past. It was small, its wings the size and texture of rose petals, just wrinkled around the edges. The shade of its wings was pure white, the soft sheen like silk. And the way it rode the wind was just as graceful.
Iris extended her other hand. The butterfly came to rest on her forefinger, two legs and then four more. She brought it towards her chest, and spent a moment simply looking as it slowly beat its wings; once, twice, thrice. And everything calmed. He relaxed his grip.
Her voice was quiet, but he memorized the tone to keep forever.
"We have hope. There are people like you, Hikari-kun."
She looked at him and gave him the slightest of smiles, and he returned it in full easily. When his eyes drew back to the city there was a strange, complex beauty to it, shimmering over the dented metal and twisted plastic like a blanket. He smelled sand and sun. The city was dead. Perhaps a new one would stand soon...
Slowly her hand slipped from his as she lowered herself back onto the ground. The butterfly gently took flight again, weaving through the air in front of them, which was beginning to haze with heat.
"Everyone should be up by now. We should leave."
He followed her out, and they joined with the others to walk on. The ruins of the city disappeared behind them, and he thought no more of their depths.
.end.
Constructive criticism encouraged.