I meant Zero in the Rain to be a stand-alone story, but my one reviewer mentioned how it would be neat to have a story about that bit of history after X awakened, but before the Maverick Wars began. I agree with that; however, with my canon-bending tendencies, I may not be the best author for that. But it also reminded me of something another reviewer to another story mentioned once. In many stories about reploids, there aren't many humans about. Maybe Dr. Cain, maybe some people who die, but not many humans characters who interact with the reploids (outside of violence).

That may be different now, and on this site, what with the newer series of Megaman games around. But that all inspired me to write another descriptive snapshot, this time of X. If you like this idea, leave a review and I might drop in from time to time to add another one.

Again, this is early on, before X joined the Maverick Hunters.

O Holy Night

A string of notes drifted through the heated air. The old wooden church had only two visitors, but the piano seemed to make the space feel alive and sacred. Here, the outer world seemed miles away. Any troubles it might have contained would not touch this space. At least, one would hope.

Hope… that word appeared on white ornaments of the pine tree that was securely nestled in a large ceramic pot in the front of the sanctuary. While its native needles were long with pointed tips, its appearance was softened with white and silver garland. Its appearance was turned to glowing with the soft white and silver lights strung through its darkly colored branches. A nativity scene was arranged with glass ornaments there: white-robed angels with golden trumpets, a modest Holy Mother with Joseph by her side, some attending donkeys and cows, two shepherds with a few woolly sheep, the three lavish wise men bearing exotic gifts… the baby in the manger wasn't on the tree currently, as He would have a part in the next day's sermon.

One note slipped wrong, causing the music to fumble. "Oops," the player said bashfully.

The piano teacher gave him a forgiving nod. "X, don't let one mistake stop you. Just smooth it over and continue playing."

He took in a deep breath, then let it out. "I wanted it to be good this time."

"You were doing well. But you can't be perfect yet; you still need to practice."

"Yes, m'am." After a hesitant second, he placed his fingers back on the white keys and began the song again.

Leaning back in the wooden pew, the teacher smiled to herself. She hadn't been sure about taking on a reploid student at first. They were like better versions of the old robot masters, right? But they were still fancy computers. Computers didn't need piano lessons. If one put the right calculations in them, they could play a piece in perfect imitation. Exactly the same, every single time, without even an attempt at a personal touch.

At least, that's what she'd thought a few months ago. X wasn't that way. X made mistakes. Like any other piano student, he took a few lessons to figure out the coordination of all ten fingers, plus the foot pedals. And then some more lessons to learn how to read sheet music, and then to translate what he saw on the page with his eyes to what he did with his fingers on the keys. He was also like her most perfectionist students in that he did not want to make a mistake. He even grew frustrated with the learning process from time to time, but stuck with it all the same.

And that wasn't the only way he was like her human students. The piano was twelve feet from where she was sitting; a low curving wall hid the upright piano from most views around the sanctuary. At that distance, he looked convincingly human: short black hair, not completely neat while falling in natural ways. A modest frame that was passably average for a fit young adult male. A green sweater with snowmen on it along with dark colored blue jeans and canvas snow boots with fur trim. He wasn't professional looking, and he wasn't artificial looking. No, he seemed to be as real as the tree hidden under lights and garland. But not as showy.

He was learning fast, the teacher admitted to herself. Tomorrow, he would be playing his first piece in front of a large audience, the church-goers attending the Christmas Eve service. That was why he was practicing this one song over and over again. The locals knew he was a reploid and not a human; some were nervous about X playing at their church. Perhaps that was why he was nervous of mistakes.

As the song continued, this time with no fumbling, the teacher glanced around the church. There were pine wreaths on the columns, decorated with pine cones, berries, and angel figures. The wooden floor was cleaned and polished up, along with everything else. From the looks of things, everything was ready for tomorrow.

After getting through the song successfully (for the eighth time this evening), X paused in his playing. He turned around and glanced out the window. Scrolling frost patterns were forming even as they sat there, and fog blanketed that up. "The storm's still going. Do you want me to ride with you back to your place? In case trouble comes up."

"Wouldn't you have further to walk back to Dr. Cain's house?" she asked.

He shifted to smile at her. "I'll be all right. I walked here earlier, and I've got internal temperature regulators. But if you get stuck, you might get frostbite."

"That's true." She smiled back at him. While she would be reluctant with her other older male students, she knew X wouldn't try any untoward. He was a reploid, after all. "It would be reassuring to have the company. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He turned back to the piano, thinking. "May I try this once more? I want to make sure I've got this right."

"Go ahead."

This time, she closed her eyes and thought of just the serene music.