It was during the editing of this chapter that I decided to take the plunge and swap all the names to the Japanese versions. (I figured a stupid story deserved stupid English names, hah.) It wasn't hard; just Find and Replace and add some suffixes.

…or so I thought. "Lan" occurs in more words than just the name, and I had to actually scroll through all 52 pages of what I have to correct words like "gNettoced", "Nettoguidly", and "expNettoation". (It was actually quite amusing, so all is good.)

Are all of you enjoying this so far? I would love to hear suggestions! I do try very hard to make this nice… (I apologize for lame back stories, though.)

Capcom owns everything that is deliciously Rockman.

"Look, Roll!" Meiru grabbed the PET off of her hip and angled the screen down so her Navi could see the small specks of green poking through the dirt. "The flowers are coming back."

"Oh how pretty!" said Roll. "It looks like there are a lot of gardens around here… in a month this street will be full of flowers! Won't that make our walk nice?"

Meiru smiled. To save money (and because they only had one car, which Netto needed because he kept weird hours), Meiru rode the Metroline to work. One of the many reasons they chose to buy the house they did was because it was only a few blocks away from a Metroline Station. Despite that, it was not a very fun walk to make early in the morning in the dead of winter. It also hadn't helped that she had been pregnant and not known it for most of January and February, and often felt awful in the morning.

But now, things were starting to look better. Netto had taken the news... well, fairly decently, and had gone into full blown "we can do this!" mode. He was dying to share the news to every single person that they knew, and even though she had made him promise he wouldn't it was only a matter of time before be let it drop at some inappropriate moment. Meiru, meanwhile, was just under three months pregnant and had finally stopped getting dizzy spells. The weather was getting better too; March was nearing its end and—

Nearly done with her walk home, Meiru stopped at the end of the driveway. A large, mysterious package was sitting on the front porch. It was wrapped in plain brown parcel paper, but when she got close enough to read the address, the overly-curly handwriting that adorned the top immediately identified the sender: her mother.

"Oh dear," she muttered, coming to a stop in front of it and giving Roll a nervous glance, "'Kaa-san sent a package."

Roll crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side with a frown. "Quite frankly, I'm surprised she didn't send one sooner."

"I know," Meiru agreed. "For someone who was so apathetic towards her own child, she certainly is looking forward to grandchildren."

"That's because grandparents are expected to play with grandchildren and love them for a few days... and then ignore them for a few years," Roll muttered. "Which is perfect for her."

"Oh don't say that, she's gotten better..."

Roll shut her mouth, resolute in her judgment.

"Well..." Meiru looked the box over a second time, "...at least she cares a little that her one and only child is having a baby."

Roll's resolve cracked, and a small smile forced its way onto her face. "I could hear her screaming on the phone two rooms away."

Meiru laughed. "I know! I didn't mean to tell her so soon, but..."

...but I have no idea when she'll call me again.

They had always been a little distant from one another. Her mother was a business woman through and through, and had been unwilling to sacrifice that life for her daughter. Often late to pick up Meiru from daycare (and more often getting her husband to take off the time to do it), things got only worse when Meiru grew old enough to stay home by herself. She worked all hours, leaving before Meiru woke and returning after Meiru had gone to bed. Even when on trips or simply staying at a hotel because it was so late the trains had stopped running, she was notoriously bad at remembering to call home. As Meiru grew older, it became apparent that this was more due to disinterest than it was to forgetfulness.

It was surprising, then, that Meiru's wedding had gone so well. It actually turned out to be a turning point for Meiru and her mother. Though Meiru hadn't completely forgiven her yet, they would call one another every once in a while just to talk. This last Sunday, Meiru broke the news about being pregnant and the response had been deafening.

"I wonder if it's a teddy bear," breathed Meiru, enchanted by the idea. "She always knew I loved that giant bear she sent me from Amero—oh!" She faltered and almost fell face forward.

"What's wrong?!" Roll gasped.

"Haha, nothing. This package is a lot heavier than I thought it was going to be! Guess it's not a teddy bear..." she chuckled. She attempted a second, more coordinated effort to pick it up.

"STOPSTOPSTOP!" Roll screamed suddenly.

Meiru jumped and dropped the package. Only being three inches off the ground, it made a dull thump as it hit the concrete. "What?!"

"You shouldn't be picking up heavy things!" wailed Roll. "It's not good for your back!"

Meiru stared for a second, then slapped a palm to her face. "Rooooll. I'm only three months pregnant. Seriously. Stop having heart attacks about every little thing I'm doing "wrong". You're going to give me a heart attack if you keep yelling at me unexpectedly."

"But... but I was reading online... that heavy objects…" Roll murmured. "I... I'm just concerned."

"I know," Meiru smiled. "Thank you for you for that, but I think I can manage one box." Giving the box a calculating stare, she chose to open the front door first. She held it open with her hip, and then carefully leaned down, scooped up the box, and swung it inside. She used the same hip to slam the door shut behind her and called out, "Roll?"

"Got it," Roll replied, setting the lock electronically.

"You know, Roll," Meiru said as she set the box down on the kitchen counter and began to hunt for scissors, "Knowing every last detail about being pregnant will only make you worry more."

A screen on the refrigerator door turned on, showing Roll wearing a confused frown. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Hm, let's see. Who spent four hours yesterday looking up mercury content in different species of fish?" said Meiru, raising an eyebrow.

"I just… You bought the tuna, and I told you—Careful with that knife!—that another kind like..."

"Roll…" Meiru sighed. "Why does it matter how much mercury is in tuna? I hardly ever buy it! And," she continued, gesturing towards the package with the kitchen knife she was now holding, "I think I can cut open a box without cutting open my hand, thank you very much." Despite this assertion, Meiru put the knife down. "Roll, why do you spend every waking hour of the day at pregnancy websites?"

Roll looked shocked. "I don't... not every..." she stumbled.

"You don't think I'm looking," she gave her Navi a Cheshire grin, "but I see you. Your PET's internet history is nothing but "newmommy" and "whattoexpect" and all those kinds of things."

"Well... yeah..."

"In fact," she continued in mock shock, "I think I even saw you typing some long involved post on a message board last night that had a background of bright yellow duckies! Couldn't read it all the way from the couch, but I have a sneaking suspicion it was tuna-related. Are you really that concerned about my fish preferences, Roll?"

Roll's mouth opened, but she looked at a loss for words.

"Alright, alright" Meiru conceded with a laugh, "I'll stop teasing you."

"It was about moving," Roll interjected suddenly. "I... I was curious how big a baby has to be before you can feel it."

"Oh," said Meiru. She paused to furrow her brow in thought. "I dunno. I'd guess like four months. I know I haven't felt anything yet. But..." her gaze turned to Roll, "wouldn't any normal website have that kind of thing? Why bother with a message board?"

"Oh it was fascinating!" Roll said with an earnest smile. "A bunch of women go there to write about their experiences with children and pregnancy, and there was a whole topic devoted to fetal movement... about how they flip and roll and when they get bigger kick and punch and poke limbs out and so many different things! I just..." Roll paused, realizing how fast she was speaking, and blushed. "I just wondered what it felt like, is all. So I asked."

Meiru gave her stomach an apprehensive stare. "Mom mentioned that when she was pregnant with me, I used to kick her in the ribs all the time." She was unable to repress a shudder at the thought. "I hope my baby doesn't do that. I think it's kind of creepy to have something moving inside of you."

Roll laughed. "Really?"

"Really," she admitted. Truth be told, she wasn't very gung-ho about any of this pregnancy thing. Sure, she wanted children, but pregnancy was such a hassle... and she was in her first trimester, which meant she had a full six months more of fun ahead. It was only going to get worse from here, right? Hopefully Netto would still be alive at the end.

Roll was talking again; something about keeping records of movement, but Meiru wasn't listening. Why was Roll so enthusiastic about this whole thing? At first Meiru had thought Roll was just trying to be cheerful to keep her spirits up, but now it seemed like something more. Like Roll was... envious or something. Meiru almost snorted out loud at that thought; pregnancy was anything but fun, and unexpected ones with bleak-looking futures were even less desirable. And all of it was a completely moot point, because Navis couldn't give birth like humans did, anyway. There had to be another reason Roll was so enthusiastic, but Meiru couldn't decide what it could be.

Sensing a lull in the conversation, Meiru picked her knife back up, hoping to switch subjects. "What do you say? Let's find out what's in this box!"

"Mm!" Roll nodded.

The grand unveiling was anti-climatic.

"She..." Meiru started.

"...got you a sewing machine," Roll finished.

"But I don't sew! Why on earth...?" breathed Meiru, trying to pry one box out of a larger box.

"Look!" Roll pointed. "A card fell out."

Meiru put the sewing box down on the counter and knelt down to retrieve the pale pink envelope from the floor. She paused for a moment look at the front, which read "To my Beloved Daughter" in delicate purple cursive. Her mouth repeated the words soundlessly. As though a momentary trance had broken, Meiru flipped the envelope over and tore it open. The carefully chosen stationary inside got bent at the corners as Meiru roughly yanked it out. With a shake she unfolded the paper and began to read.

The paper began to shake. The further Meiru read, the more the paper shook and the lower her jaw dropped. "She..."

"What's wrong, Meiru-chan?" Roll asked, worry showing clearly on her face.

"She... wants... I..." The words wouldn't come to her. There were no words for this.

"Meiru-chan?"

Meiru's hand clenched, crinkling her letter. She closed her eyes and balled her fists up at her side, dropping the crushed letter to the floor. "I told her once," she said, breathing heavily through her nose in an attempt to stay calm, "that I wanted to wait a few years to have kids. She also knows that we aren't doing great finacially, and even though she's never said it to my face, I know she doesn't like Netto because he acts... rather childishly at times. Now she," Meiru ground out through clenched teeth, "thinks I'm not ready to have children because of those things and because she has "first-hand experience" and knows how hard it is to raise a child."

Roll's mouth opened in indignation. "First hand WHAT? She was never arou—"

"And she says," Meiru cut off, "that even though she's really excited, she... she would..." Her eyes fluttered open, and she took a shaky breath. "Forgive me if I chose not to have it."

"WHAT?!" roared Roll. "What does she mean by that?! This isn't an "it", this is a baby; your baby and her first and only grandchild! How dare she! This "it" is three months old and has eyes, toes, fingers, a... a heartbeat... It's her grandchild and it is alive, how dare she even suggest that!"

"Roll..."

"No! What kind of mother tells her daughter that?! She knows what you went through to make this decision and she should respect it! She is... absolutely... just..." Too furious or polite to put it into words, Roll stomped a foot and growled.

"Oh no," Meiru said in an airy, falsely cheerful voice, "she cares. Why do you think she sent the sewing machine? She really wants me to keep the baby."

"She does?"

"Yes! But in order to be a good mother, like she admits she was not, I need to become a better housewife. Only then will my children truly love me. She hopes this sewing machine will be "a step in the right direction"."

"Cooking and cleaning don't... or sewing... ooh!" Roll growled again. "I swear, has she learned anything from her mistakes with you? What right does she have to be giving advice?"

"None," Meiru replied in monotone.

Roll rubbed her forehead with her palm. "Well it's not like we can disown the woman."

"Like hell I can't," Meiru muttered under her breath.

"...so we might as well cut our losses. At the very least, we got a sewing machine out of this."

Meiru stared impassively at the sewing machine box.

"Maybe," said Roll, folding her arms, "if we can find some cheap fabric online, we could save money by making our own baby clothes. I know a website that has free sewing patterns."

Meiru continued to stare.

"Also, when she comes to visit she might be impressed and get off your back. For a while, at least. What do you think, Meiru-chan?"

Meiru exhaled deeply. With a sharp re-intake, she hoisted the sewing machine above her head and flung it across the room. "That's what I think!" she bellowed. Without further ado, she stomped out of the kitchen.

"So... tell me again why there's a dent in this wall?" Netto ran his finger gently over the new indentation and scowled when some paint chipped loose. "We just painted this," he whined.

"I told you, I threw a sewing machine at it," Meiru growled from where she was curled up on the couch.

"But why did you throw a sewing machine at it?"

"Because I don't want the sewing machine."

Netto gave his wife a perplexed stare. "So you threw it at a wall? Why not throw it in the trash, like a normal person?"

"Because that's not nearly as fun," said Meiru, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Caught up in their argument, neither husband nor wife noticed their Navis shake their heads at one another and disappear.

"Check."

Rockman bit back a curse. Even when she was only paying about 5 attention to the game, Roll could still kick his butt at chess. "Where? I don't—oh, the Bishop." He slumped down on his squat red ottoman (one of very few pieces of virtual furniture they owned) and scowled at said Bishop.

"I keep telling you," a female voice yelled from downstairs, "I can't tell them! They won't... the beginning of... don't need..." Slowly, the voice faded away.

Roll's seemingly constant frown deepened, which made Rockman's mind reemerge from muddled thoughts of chess. "What's that about?"

Roll brought her hand up to her mouth and began to absently chew on a fingertip. "Meiru-chan lost her job."

"What?! Why?"

"Well she hasn't lost it yet," Roll explained, waving her other hand for emphasis, "but she will when she tells them she's pregnant. It's your move."

"What? I don't..." Meiru was a teacher at an elementary school. Though freshly out of school herself, she had secured a full-time position and, as far as he knew, was getting good job reviews.

Roll sighed. "The construction to expand the building starts during the Summer holidays. After that they're going to combine classrooms for the rest of the year to get out of the way of the construction. And a classroom doesn't really need two teachers, right? What with all the money they're spending on the expansion, the school won't want to waste money paying an extra, unnecessary staff member Maternity Leave."

"But they can't… they can't do that, right? That's discrimination!"

"Yes," Roll agreed, her voice muffled by chewing. "But they can very easily say they don't have the money or space to keep her, so it would be hard to argue that it's pregnancy discrimination. And," she continued, chewing double-time, "even if we did argue it, it would take months to do, at which point her class would already be back in session and it would almost be time for the baby and… Well, it'd be too late by then."

"So..." Rockman tailed off, uneasy. When Meiru first told Netto she was pregnant, he had helped Netto do some basic calculations to prove to Meiru that having this baby would not cause them complete financial ruin. Of course, they'd been counting on Meiru getting some sort of paid Maternity Leave, so this news changed that math quite a bit. "So Meiru-chan... will just take a year off from working, then?"

"You know," Roll chewed softly, "I'm pretty sure Meiru wants to be a stay-at-home mother... but that's not really feasible at this point, is it?"

"I don't know," Rockman mused. He paused to lean over the chess board and gently tugged Roll's hand away from her mouth. She had the oddest nervous habits. "If that's what she really wants, I'm sure we could work out... something."

"Something"... that's reassuring, he thought glumly. He glanced at the Bishop which posed a silent, diagonal threat to his King. His mind was drawing a blank on solutions; he didn't know what "something" was and didn't know how to save his doomed King. It was a depressing parallel.

"Something," Roll repeated. Her hands clenched in her lap. "Always something. How...?"

"How what?"

To his surprise, Roll snapped at him. "How can you be so optimistic about everything? Why do you always assume things will just work out? They don't! Real life doesn't work like that!"

"I don't assu—"

"Yes you do! You and Netto rush headfirst into everything and expect things to end up perfectly. You don't think things ahead, don't plan for anything. What happens if something goes wrong? What then? You have no plan B!"

"I think thing—"

"Someday," Roll said coldly, looking him straight in the eye, "you're going to lose. Someday you won't get in that lucky shot, someone won't come to the rescue, or… or someone will sneak up on you, I don't know, but someday..." Roll paused. In a much softer voice she finished, "One day, you won't come home."

Rockman was speechless.

"So that is why," Roll mumbled, returning her gaze to her lap, "I can't be optimistic like you."

It took Rockman a full minute to find his voice. "I know I don't think through every detail like you do, but that doesn't mean I'm careless. Netto-kun and I... we don't always have a set goal in mind, but we try our best to do what we think is right. We don't plan, we just... do. It's not optimism; it's just plain hard work." Rockman furrowed his brow in confusion. "What does any of this have to do with Meiru-chan?"

"Apart..." Roll swallowed hard, "Apart from the obvious meaning, it was also a metaphor. You two think that when the baby comes, you'll just "do what needs to be done" and it will work. You think that we should just continue our lives like nothing is changing... but in six months everything will be different, and you refuse to plan for the very likely event of failure!"

"Well it certainly won't be easy," Rockman conceded, "but I have faith in this family. Netto-kun can work more hours so Meiru-chan can stay home and not stress out trying to fight the school. Money will be tight, but... we can just put less in our savings, right? And plus, if Netto-kun works more then he'll get his PhD sooner and be able to get a real job, one we can live off of…...

Roll brought up a finger to chew on again. "So he's going to become his father? He's going to stay at SciLabs all day and never get to know his child?"

"That... Papa had a reason." Rockman took offense to that statement, despite it being partially true. He reached over and tugged her hand away a second time, a little more forcefully than he intended. "Netto-kun will only stay as long as he needs to. Maybe when the baby gets a little bigger Meiru-chan will be willing to work part-time again, and they could switch off... or Mama could baby-sit or... Trust me Roll-chan, Netto-kun and I will work out something."

"You're doing it again," Roll commented, her voice hard.

"Doing what?"

Roll sat up a little straighter and folded her hands in her lap, her posture making her look the very definition of prim. "Playing the hero! You and Netto-kun will work more hours, you and Netto-kun will think of something, while Meiru-chan and I sit around and watch!"

"Oh," he faltered. "I-I didn't mean to."

"I know you don't," Roll mumbled, "but..."

She looked depressed, and Rockman felt his face droop to mirror hers. "I'm sorry. We're just trying to look out for Meiru-chan and the baby, and if that means we get a little over-protective... well, that's a good thing, isn't it? Netto-kun wants to take care of his wife, isn't that normal?"

"It is normal, and I'm very glad that he is willing to take on such a responsibility! I have great respect for what you two are trying to do," Roll nodded softly.

Her statement felt unfinished. "But?" he asked.

Roll bit her lip and looked down into her lap yet again. She was obviously upset, and for some reason wasn't going to tell him why.

"Roll-chan."

Silence.

"Roll-chan?"

Again, nothing. Rockman leaned bodily across the chessboard, knocking pieces right and left. Many of them fell or rolled off of the board and onto the grid-patterned floor. "Roll-chan," he said over the noise, putting a hand gently over her folded ones, "what's wrong?"

Roll watched a pawn still teetering on the edge of the board. "Our game..."

Rockman gave her a stern frown. "I don't care about the game; I care about you. What is wrong?"

She blushed at that statement and managed to look depressed at the same time, an odd feat. "I don't know. You... you and Netto-san both work, Meiru-chan's working and dealing with the school and being pregnant... and I'm doing nothing."

"What?" Rockman frowned, this time in confusion. "You do things."

"I plan the grocery list. I organize Meiru-chan's schedule. I do a bunch of little odds and ends, but none of it really helps Meiru-chan in any important way."

"Sure it do—"

"So when you save that you'll take care of everything, that I shouldn't worry myself... it makes me feel completely useless."

"O-oh. I..." Rockman wasn't sure if he should apologize; it was kind of meaningless, just saying it. "I really... am not trying to do that."

But intentionally or not, he was. As he tried to think of the chain of events that led up to this and wondered how he had missed so many obvious clues, Roll stood up.

"Rockman... it's nothing. I'm fine."

"But-"

"I can't hear Meiru-chan or Netto-san anymore," she said, visibly flustered. "I think they've stopped fighting. I want to go check on Meiru-chan. Can we finish this game later?" Without waiting for an answer, she began to hastily scoop up Chess pieces.

Apparently she didn't want to talk about it. "Oh... okay, if you want. But I think you won."

Roll gave a noncommittal "Mm" and crouched to collect pieces from the floor.

"Oh, don't," he said, shooing her away and stooping to get them himself. "I knocked them over, so..."

There was a brief look of hurt on Roll's face, and Rockman almost slapped himself in the forehead; he was doing it again. "I didn't mean I don't want you to help clean up, I just feel bad because I was the one who made—"

He was interrupted by the sound of her dumping the pieces in her arms on the board in a cluttered pile. "It's alright, I don't mind. It's getting late. I'm going to find Meiru-chan, and then I think I'll go to sleep. Goodnight."

Her icy tone indicated that she would be sleeping in her PET, and would probably block the entrance to stop him from following. She turned on her heel and began to walk away. Rockman estimated that he had 15 seconds before she reached the glowing portal between the bedroom computer (where they were) and the television in the living room (where Meiru was).

He scrambled. "Roll-chan, I..." Again, sorry wasn't enough. She knew he was sorry, but that didn't change what he was doing. "I don't mean..." Saying it was unintentional was worse; it implied that his natural reaction was to assume she couldn't do things by herself. "Roll-chan..."

...fifteen seconds wasn't enough time to think of something to make the situation magically all better, and so in the end Rockman settled for a soft, "Goodnight."