A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter posted! I've been working on a different project recently, so this one was pushed to the back burner for a bit. Hopefully, Chapter 3 should be up a bit faster than this one was—I've got things planned out, and I just need to write them down.
By the way, do people in general prefer the Japanese or the English names for Mega/RockMan stories? I've been using the Japanese names for this particular fic, but I'd be interested to hear what you guys think. Anyway, any comments in general are certainly welcome!
Thanks for reading, and enjoy!
(New note: I have updated this chapter so that Netcorp's owner is named Kurogane. He used to be called Himura. Sorry for any confusion!).
Enzan waited silently as he stood just outside the door of the restaurant, watching his father speak with Netcorp's owner. Their formal lunch, now almost over, had been long, monotonous, and something that would have set any ordinary seven-year-old screaming in frustration. Enzan, however, watched the conversation keenly with vivid blue eyes that seemed almost to never blink.
"You're certainly tenacious, Kurogane-san," Enzan's father said.
A laugh that was proud, formal, and just a bit too energetic filled the air. "Well, I have to be, with people like you running companies like IPC! I hope that I won't have to wait too much longer for an answer."
Shuuseki Ijuin, Enzan's dad and the president of one of the largest electronics companies in the world, shook his head a little as he smiled in return. "I do my best to be timely. You understand that I wouldn't want to rush an important decision, though."
There was the slightest hesitation before Kurogane answered. "Of course! Of course. …But if I don't hear back from you in a week, Ijuin-san, I'll take it as an invitation to come and bother you again. We've been discussing this for some time, and one must move quickly, in business, after all."
"Certainly. Well, I wish you luck with your project, and my best regards to everyone at NetCorp."
"Yes, thank you, Ijuin-san. My regards to you and your son, as well."
About two minutes later, Enzan and his father were sitting diagonally across from one another in the Ijuin family limo. The ride was silent, and for the first little bit, the atmosphere was almost peaceful. The instant that Kurogane was out of sight, however, the older of the two Ijuin males seemed to transform in a dozen subtle ways, his cool smile and relaxed bearing melting away like frost under a hot sun. He tapped his foot impatiently as he stared out of the window opposite him, a tight, familiar line in place between his brows.
Enzan, for his part, sat calmly, though his back was rigidly straight. Even if he hadn't been wearing a dark blazer, formal pants and a tie, his posture and expression would have made him look much older than he really was. Involuntarily, his hand strayed to his PET—a bright red, handheld device that was placed securely in a leather case at his belt. Though it didn't show on his calm exterior, his heart was beginning to pound as he braced himself for what he knew would begin at any moment.
His father's question came abruptly through the silence. "What can you tell me about Kurogane-san from what we saw today?"
Enzan suppressed his instinctive flinch. Kurogane is large, intimidating, and talks too loud, he thought. He flexed and then relaxed the fingers of one hand. He knew that his father wasn't looking for that kind of answer.
He's stubborn, was the next phrase to leap to mind. It had taken ages for Ijuin to work his way out of the restaurant without giving Kurogane a definite response. While that information was useful, however, it was far too obvious to say aloud. He's greedy. Would that work? What kind of answer was he expected to give?
"He's good at pretending to be happy when he's actually not," Enzan said slowly, looking up to meet his father's eyes.
A small grunt of acknowledgement came from Enzan's left, though Ijuin's face remained stony. "And what makes you say that?"
"Well, that's what he was doing during lunch today," Enzan said, with growing confidence that his answer was acceptable. None of it would be news to Ijuin, of course, but nothing ever seemed to come as news to Ijuin. "He's… mad that we're still just thinking about his offer, even though we've been discussing it for a while now."
Ijuin turned his face back to the window, though he continued to monitor his son out of the corner of his eye. "Correct, even if it was a shallow observation."
Enzan swallowed, glared at the carpet, and prepared to try again. "He's…"
Closing his eyes briefly, Ijuin let out a small, sharp sigh. "Every action and every emotion has a reason behind it, Enzan, and it's the reason that serves as valuable information. If you know someone's motivation, you can outmaneuver them. If not, you may as well be blind. Now think—why is Kurogane-san so mad over a small delay?"
'Why?' Kurogane is just impatient! Enzan thought dumbly. The large man had done a good job of hiding it, but throughout the hour they'd been together, small physical cues had hinted that he was less than happy with even the short wait for his food. His eyes had flicked over to the kitchen entrance more than once, and he had kept his left hand in his lap for the entire meal, as if he was purposely forcing himself not to look at his watch.
After several seconds of silence, Ijuin leaned back into his chair, shaking his head slightly. "Pitiful," he muttered. "If you had paid closer attention to the financial reports I'd showed you earlier, you'd know that Kurogane-san—…"
"…Is desperate!" Enzan blurted out, leaning forward sharply. Anxiety mixed with triumph had made his voice too loud, but Enzan didn't care—he had finally hit on something solid, and he knew it as well as he knew his own name.
Ijuin turned back to him at the words, his slightly raised eyebrows betraying his surprise.
"He's desperate," Enzan repeated, his mind working furiously. "His company has reached a sort of standstill. He used to be the clear-cut king of netnavi programming, but his profits have dropped, he's stopped moving forward, and the competition is moving in on his heels."
"True," Ijuin said, not missing a beat, "but what does that have to do with me?"
Taking a deep breath through his nose, Enzan paused for the briefest of instants to sort through the pertinent facts. The recent netnavi programming crisis had hit the entire industry like a punch to the stomach. …If Kurogane played his cards right, however, it could be an opportunity for him, instead. Because the glitches were so widespread, all major netnavi companies had agreed to a truce while they worked out a solution. This meant that each of them was frozen in place, for now.
"He's taking advantage of the break in sales to pull ahead again," Enzan said, evenly meeting his father's gaze. "Forming a business alliance with IPC means that he'll be able to exchange resources and information with us, and maybe even piggyback off our good publicity."
Slowly, Ijuin nodded, prodding Enzan on. "So, in other words…"
"He's using us." The idea was like a clear, cold breeze blowing away the fog of innocence and delusion. "…And he's doing it in a way that borders on dishonoring the truce."
"Precisely." All at once, a hard, keen gleam revealed itself in Ijuin's eyes. He leaned forward just enough that each of his words held a stunning impact, and he spoke in the firm, honest voice that had earned him his place as president of IPC. "If it were anyone else, I wouldn't be worried—business owners make connections, after all, and businesses expand. …But Kurogane-san's business ethics have been… questionable, of late. I don't want him anywhere near my company."
Enzan blinked. "But… then why haven't you just… turned him down?"
Ijuin gave a short little exhale that was probably the closest thing he ever did to laughing. "One doesn't turn down an offer of partnership with Netcorp without some consideration."
Once again, silence filled the limousine. Ijuin didn't expand on his statement, and Enzan didn't ask for detail. His father was wearing the same expression that he usually did after one of their little teaching sessions—one that clearly said he'd had enough of explaining things, and that he would resume the lesson at another time.
Enzan leaned back heavily into his seat. Even though he was fairly sure he had done well, he felt completely exhausted. Distantly, he noticed that one of his hands had strayed back to his PET, as if he were subconsciously seeking comfort from the plastic device. …or, more accurately, from what was inside the plastic device. PErsonal Terminals, or 'PET's for short, were IPC's chief product, and the machine most commonly used to carry one's netnavi. Although the screen was currently off, Enzan knew that his own navi, Blues, had probably been listening to the entire conversation.
It was stupid, Enzan knew. Blues was just a computer program. He wasn't alive, and he certainly wasn't a friend that Enzan could talk to or draw support from. Firmly, Enzan told himself to move his hand away from his belt; his father was there, after all, and he wouldn't like it if he noticed Enzan clinging to the PET again.
Somehow, though, when the limo pulled up in front of IPC's main building, Enzan's hand was still on the case at his waist.
Ijuin's main office was huge, practical, and as always, meticulously organized. To Enzan, the area had always seemed a little cold. …Not that the room was unpleasant, of course. Since it was perched on the top floor of the towering IPC building, the enormous, floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall opposite the door offered a majestic view of the city. …Aside from the view, however, there wasn't much to love. The area was a decent size, and the furniture was high-quality, but the white walls, black file cabinets, and orderly, symmetrical layout were meant to impress, rather than to make one feel welcome. Outside of Ijuin's teaching sessions, thick silence filled the room like a miasma.
It looked like it belonged in a magazine article about obsessive business owners—not in Enzan's life.
"Informational reports," Ijuin said, walking briskly across the space and opening a drawer of his desk. "For the next hour or so, we're going to review them together, and I want you to give your opinion instead of blindly agreeing to what the authors said."
Enzan's heart sank. Informational reports? Already? He had barely gotten back from having a business lunch with Netcorp's top executives.
"About what?" he said aloud.
"While an agreement with Netcorp is out of the question, the Board seems to think that a business alliance with another company would be profitable. I agree, with reservation. Given the new progress being made in netnavi research, I can't think of a better time to collaborate with one of them."
Enzan held his arms very, very still at his sides, willing his hands not to shake. He wanted, more than anything, to just go home, but he knew from experience how his father would react to the request. His job now was to act calm, dignified, and confident—all while he learned how to do a job that would have been over the head of someone three times his age.
"We'll begin with an assessment of Akira Electronics," Ijuin continued, drawing a stack of paperwork out of the opened drawer. "Currently, they are number one in the industry, aside from Netcorp, so—…"
"Ijuin-sama?"
Ijuin froze in place at the sound of the new voice interrupting his normal routine. Briefly, he glanced at the door, but upon seeing that no one was there, he narrowed his eyes and turned to Enzan, instead. The voice had come from the PET at Enzan's waist.
Enzan stood rigid, unable to speak. He had recognized the voice of Blues instantly, but he couldn't fathom why the netnavi would have spoken. Hesitantly, he drew the PET out of its pouch, activating the screen and holding the device so that Blues was visible to everyone in the room.
"I hope you'll pardon the interruption, sir," Blues said when Ijuin simply continued to look at the PET. "…But young Enzan-sama has had a highly stressful day already. Perhaps you would consider allowing him a short break?"
Enzan's insides squirmed with a mixture of gratitude and dread. "Blues," he muttered, "you don't have to—…"
"My son," Ijuin said in a tight, level voice, "doesn't needa 'break.' He needs to continue his training, if he is ever going to have a hope of becoming my vice president. Elites don't tolerate failure."
Blues paused slightly before continuing to speak. His face was expressionless, but by listening carefully, Enzan was just able to make out the slight hoarseness in Blue's voice that signaled that he was struggling to form the words. "Enzan-sama's heart rate is at 151 beats per minute, sir. This level of stress isn't healthy."
Silence fell.
Ijuin's eyes widened, anger making the coal-black irises seem to gleam. "Enzan, we designed the health monitoring features for emergencies."
Enzan's cheeks burned crimson. "I…"
"Enzan-sama didn't have anything to do with my misuse of your hardware, Ijuin-sama," Blues said, cutting in over Enzan's half-formed protest. "I simply checked his pulse because I was concerned."
Ijuin stared at the PET for about two seconds before closing his eyes, leaning on his desk, and muttering a small handful of severe-sounding phrases under his breath. Enzan couldn't make out most of it, but he suspected that his father had opened by cursing Kurogane and his $%# % programming glitches.
When Ijuin looked up, he directed his next few words at Enzan. "I have a meeting at 3:30. Before we go, I want that thing on its recharging station and out of the way. You may take the limo in order to run it home after we finish up in here. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," Enzan intoned dutifully. Quickly, he tucked the PET back in its pouch and moved to stand at his usual place near the desk. His smooth, expressionless face didn't falter, but inside, he felt embarrassed, relieved—and strangely, mildly amused. So much for Ijuin not wanting to give him a break. He wondered if his father would ever realize that he had just been manipulated by a machine.
Enzan's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the office door. Without moving his head, he shot his father a wary, sidelong glance—the timing couldn't have possibly been worse. Apparently, however, he should have known better than to be concerned. Though Ijuin's jaw clenched, he took a short, deep breath and then sank calmly into his seat. "Come in," he said, the picture of control.
Reiko Sasaki, Ijuin's personal secretary, appeared in the doorway, dipping into a small bow before beginning to speak. "Pardon the intrusion. There's someone here for you, Ijuin-sama."
Ijuin's eyebrows rose slightly. "I don't recall having any appointments."
Sasaki hesitated, clearly nervous. "He… didn't have an appointment, sir."
Enzan blinked in surprise. His former weariness ebbed a bit, giving way to curiosity.
"Oh?" Ijuin asked, narrowing his eyes. "And who is 'he?'"
"Doctor Yuichiro Hikari, of SciLab. He says that tried to make an appointment earlier, but you weren't available, and he couldn't wait until you had an opening."
"Hikari…" Ijuin said, tapping one finger on his desk in thought. "He's the scientist who's been trying to contact Kurogane-san, isn't he? The 'revolutionary'?"
"Yes, sir. I believe that's him."
Ijuin let out a disgusted snort. "Tell him I'm busy and to take his business elsewhere. I don't have time to listen to paranoid, eccentric scientists."
'Paranoid' and 'eccentric' were rather gentle terms, compared to what Enzan had heard from both the media and most of the major executives in the country. Hikari was obsessed, they said, with some very controversial experiments. More than once, the words 'insane' and 'delusional' had been used to describe him, and most people claimed that if he weren't also a certifiable genius with computers, he would have been fired from SciLab long ago.
The man must be working awfully hard, Enzan thought, in order to earn his place at SciLab and work on his little 'side project' at the same time.
Sasaki flushed slightly and looked at the floor, bending her back slightly to show deference. "He did say that it was important, Ijuin-sama. You're sure you want to turn him away?"
Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, Ijuin held back a sigh. "I'm positive. Give him my apologies and send him on his way."
Enzan fully expected Sasaki to retreat down the hall at once, but to his surprise, she continued to linger in the doorway, hovering on the edge of speech.
Ijuin raised an eyebrow. "You've delivered your message, Sasaki-san. You may go."
Quavering and frozen in her respectful half-bow, the secretary swallowed and spoke. "Sir, he was… highly insistent—…"
The instant the words began to leave her mouth, Ijuin stiffened. "I won't see him," he said, "and that is final, Sasaki. Get back to your desk. Now."
The secretary left without another word. With one last, irritated glance at the door, Ijuin settled himself at his desk and began to leaf through his pile of reports.
Turning his gaze away from the door, Enzan stepped closer, meaning to accept whichever report Ijuin chose to hand him, but Ijuin shook his head without looking up. "There have been more than enough interruptions for today," he said. "Take care of Blues, and come back quickly. We have work to do, and I expect your full attention when you get back."
"Yes, sir," Enzan said, and walked swiftly out the door, heading for the elevator. Silently, he congratulated himself for not letting any of his relieved gladness show on his face. The full trip would take at least twenty minutes—plenty of time to collect himself and reorganize his scattered thoughts before working on the reports.
After boarding the elevator and pushing the button that would take them down to the lobby, Enzan folded his arms and leaned against one of the walls. "Brave of Sasaki-chan to keep speaking after the Old Man told her not to," he muttered as an afterthought, his eyes flicking down to his PET.
"It is normally ill-advised to contradict one's employer," was Blues's simple reply.
The duo was quiet after that. Enzan had, after all, been speaking less and less outside of his father's forced training sessions. The trend had started when his mother had died. If it continued, then soon he would be refusing to speak at all. His father always refused to listen to anything but business, and when his tiny, intelligent son was involved, he demanded perfection in every word. As a rule, Enzan spoke when he was spoken to, gave long speeches when he was asked to impress, and kept quiet anytime else.
With Blues, however, it was different. There was no pressure, no judgment, and no need either to talk or be silent. If he spoke, Blues didn't criticize his words, and if he didn't, then Blues seemed to understand. It was a blessing, and though Enzan told himself again and again that he was foolish to enjoy it, he found himself increasingly grateful for the moments he and Blues were alone.
Normally, after a drawn-out dialogue like the one after today's cursed business lunch, Enzan would have been happy to keep his mouth closed. In spite of this, however, a handful of words were nagging at the back of his throat, and a bit before they reached the lobby, he removed his PET from its case once again and allowed the words to trickle out.
"Thank you, Blues."
Blues seemed almost surprised at the expression of Enzan's gratitude, but the faintest hint of a smile painted itself on his lips. "Certainly, Enzan-sama."
Enzan was about to put the PET in its pouch, but stopped when he heard Blues take a sudden, sharp breath.
"Blues?"
For a moment, there was no reply.
Enzan's brow furrowed in concern. "Blues? Are you okay?"
Blues straightened himself, the picture of composure. "Of course. Everything is fine."
Unsure, Enzan tightened his grip on the PET. "Is it the headaches again?"
"Netnavis don't get headaches, Enzan-sama. I'm sure I'll be fine once I've had a chance to recharge."
There was a small ding to signal that the elevator had arrived at the lobby, and the doors slid smoothly open. Enzan, however, didn't move. After a moment, the doors shut again, with Enzan still inside and looking uncertainly at Blues.
"Do you feel alright?" Enzan asked again, though he knew what Blues would answer.
"I am a program, Enzan-sama. How I 'feel' is not relevant."
"But…" Enzan trailed off, shifted his weight, and spoke again. "I just mean… are you okay?"
"Question does not compute."
The shift in Blues' voice was abrupt, obvious, and chilling. A shiver of alarm spread through Enzan's limbs—a stupid, inexplicable fear that had no reason for being there, but penetrated Enzan's armor all the same. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. He didn't know how he knew, or even quite what it meant, but he could somehow tell that the flat, robotic tone that had taken over Blues' normally demure voice was… unnatural.
It wasn't as if it was the first time that this sort of thing had happened. In fact, the 'Robot Blues' often took over whenever Blues was getting over an especially bad episode of glitching. Supposedly, it was normal. Supposedly, it was how Blues was supposed to be.
Hikari's experiments had something to do with netnavis.
The thought rose unbidden, like an unknown seed riding a sudden gust of wind. He had no idea where it had come from, or where it might lead. He knew he ought to toss it away.
…Instead, he found himself pushing the button that would take the elevator back up to the office building's top floor.
"Enzan?" Ijuin looked up sharply when Enzan walked into the room. He was obviously less than pleased, and though he wasn't a man to lose his temper easily, it was apparent that his last nerves were fraying.
Letting his arms hang casually but firmly at his sides, Enzan summoned the most professional voice he possessed. "Forgive me for intruding on your time," he said, "but a thought has occurred to me, and I hate to waste an opportunity in business."
The cool, intelligent look in Enzan's eyes must have caught Ijuin's attention. Raising one eyebrow in mild surprise, he put down his papers and folded his hands on the desk in front of him. "I'm listening."
"Sir," Enzan said, choosing his words carefully. "How can a business possibly succeed if its owners aren't willing to take risks?"
Ijuin blinked. "Is that all?"
"That is all, sir."
Slowly, Ijuin nodded, unfolding his hands and picking up the papers that he had laid down. "Doctor Hikari has already left by now. You realize this, yes? Even if he refused to move, security will have escorted him from the premises."
Enzan nodded once to show he understood.
"I have no intention of inviting him back to my building after sending him away. His reputation is hardly favorable at the moment, and it would reflect badly on my own judgment."
Another nod.
For a long, tense moment, the two Ijuins locked eyes with each other; storm cloud black versus electrifying blue. It felt as if the air in the room had turned to ice, and with even the slightest movement, it would shatter. Then, Ijuin stood, walked to the window, and gazed out over the city in contemplation.
"Very well," he muttered without looking around. "I will consider your advice, as I would consider any advice from a future vice president. For now, finish the assignment I gave you earlier. You will need to move quickly to make up for lost time."
Later, back in the limo and staring unseeingly at the sky outside, Enzan wished that he knew exactly what his father was thinking. Truth be told, he wished he knew exactly what he himself was thinking, as well. He couldn't explain what had happened moments ago, but somehow, Enzan felt lighter for what he had done. He had said the things he had needed to say.
Now, he would leave it to fate to take care of the rest.
