Chapter 12: Higure Yamitaro, the Idiot
"Netto"
Haruka, shrouded in the golden rays of the afternoon sun, called her son from the lofty place by the window side, seated on the armchair covered in multicolored fabrics of crimson, purple, blue, gold, and silver. In her hands was a white demitasse and a coaster, rims plated in gold, holding the delicacy of gods—espresso spiked with honey and lemon. Her son, who had come home later than what was typical, sneaked his way past the mother and was about to set his foot on the first tread of the stairs to his room. It was a very jejune try, really, befitting the growing and optimistic mind of the boy.
"Eck"
"Yes, Netto, I know you are there. Come here, take a sit."
Netto, with a guiltridden expression, tiptoed his way to his mother so as to not provoke her in the least. Upon his arrival, Haruka turned away from the window, fixed the position of her chair, and gestured her son to take a sit next to her. If the golden sun illuminated her like an aura before, now it was a corona most magnificent behind her.
'What the...does she have eyes on her back or something? How?'
"No, don't be foolish, son. I don't have my eyes on the back of my head. Now, if you wouldn't mind, have some tea; I would rather have you relaxed a bit before we talk, as otherwise, I wouldn't be able to understand any of your agitated oration."
Before Netto was a teapot, a cup, and a saucer of a set, all black, on them depicted scenes from Oliver Twist: on the teapot, Oliver's salvation by Mr. Brownlow; on the cup, Oliver's forgiveness of Monks, half brother of the orphan. Haruka poured the tea into the cup, and the irresistible fragrance of the infusion—Chinese black tea, dried red berries, malt, vanilla, cocoa, caramel, fig, rose, other flowers, and many other delicacies—filled the air. The liquid was steaming, indicating that the mother had prepared it just before Netto arrived home—that she had everything planned out. 'How? Just how..?' was all Netto could think as a dreadful chill went down his spine at the revelation.
"Netto, manners. How long are you planning to have poor Rockman dangling from your hips? Place him on the table, please."
The boy obliged. Rockman, reading the tension in the air, simply made a quick polite bow, hands collected in front, to Haruka. In Japanese etiquette, it simply was a cultured way of saying 'I'm home,' taught as early as in kindergarten. Oh, how lovely and courteous was the older brother! It was nothing short of the high standard Haruka expected from him.
"I already heard everything that happened today at school, Netto. Hmm? How is that possible? It seems you underestimate the power of ACDC mothers' society; our tendrils are long and mighty. I know what Mr. Higure Yamitaro did, what you did, and the little misfortune that befell one of your friends, Tory Froid...You must have been quite frightened; however, what you did was brave, which is very commendable. I am very proud that you stood up against evil and saved Rockman. See, I did not call you here to admonish you on your deeds, but I am troubled at what is in your heart: resentment."
Haruka paused and took a sip of her coffee.
"Let's start from the basics. What did I tell you about stupidity and people in possession of that character?"
"...That they do things that harm others without getting any benefit for themselves. Worse, you said, that they in most cases even harm themselves..."
"Excellent, so you remember. Rockman, would you please kindly load the second essay by Professor Carlo M. Cipolla, and read the five points for us, as a reminder?"
"Of course, mama. From The Basic Laws of Human Stupidity, 1976, by Professor Carlo M. Cipolla:
1. Always and inevitably, everyone underestimates the number of stupid individuals in circulation.
2. The probability that a certain person will be stupid is independent of any other characteristic of that person.
3. A stupid person is a person who causes losses to another person or to a group of persons while himself deriving no gain and even possibly incurring losses.
4. Non-stupid people always underestimate the damaging power of stupid individuals. In particular, non-stupid people constantly forget that at all times and places, and under any circumstances, to deal and/or associate with stupid people always turns out to be a costly mistake.
5. A stupid person is the most dangerous type of person."
"Good. Now, let's see. Mr. Higure Yamitaro, graduated mathematics major in Tokyo University, completed his master's degree at University of California, Berkeley, returned and then denied by the small yet territorial mathematicians' community of Japan, which I suspect was out of immense jealousy, found dubious employments, and then entered ACDC elementary two months ago as an instructor of mathematics, clearly overqualified. In intelligence, he is clearly not lacking, but his history is full of indecisions, and what he displayed today achieved nothing for himself or others. Netto, evidently Mr. Higure Yamitaro is a stupid person—an idiot.
Now, the important question is, is an idiot redeemable?"
"...I don't know."
"Then let's leave that discussion for the end. Alright, my son, tell me your version."
Mr. Higure Yamitaro, affectionately nicknamed Higsby by the students, was a man in his late thirties. He was one of the dullest looking men, profusely emitting a mood of a schizoid person—a type of introvert who isolates himself and remains perfectly happy in the isolation—with his slovenly, somewhat long, hair that was always frizzy (like a nest of a magpie), unclean glasses of high diopters, and slit eyes that never opened wide enough. He joined ACDC elementary faculty as a mathematics instructor roughly two months ago, two weeks after the oven incident. Despite being in charge of the most uninteresting subject, he was widely loved by his students for his generosity in everything. Needed an extension? You had it! Needed extra explanations? He stayed after school, beyond the required office hours, as long as it was needed for the visitor; the student only had to be motivated enough to ask for help. Re-examinations? Certainly! Combined with his deep understanding of numbers, he had a knack for explaining unintuitive concepts; he even made Netto become comfortable with the subject. For this, Rockman regarded him highly.
Higure worked like a man who had been lost and then finally found his calling. The diligence he demonstrated was impeccable, either in quality or amount; everyone—the students, instructors, administrators, and parents—assumed that the man was seeking to impress the board, secure a permanent spot in ACDC Elementary, and settle down for good. Everyone also assumed that he would receive what he strived for at the end of the semester, for so moved were they by him. He was a good influence.
The semester flew smoothly, over the wings of spring, for Netto and Rockman as well. Thanks to Higure, Rockman found managing his Netto's homework much easier, as the time it took the boy to finish worksheets of that subject was more than halved. Then, what about other homeworks, other subjects? Well, Netto continued in his newfound routine of starting work early, and school assignments did not stand a chance against the combined onslaught of the Hikari twins. To explain the origin of this un-Netto-like schedule, two developments, earlier than the timeline of the Higure incident, must be mentioned. First was the conversation the two had in their room, shortly after the oven incident, which went as below:
Netto zoomed past Haruka, crashed into the room, locked the door, placed the PET on the charger, and then sat on his chair. The connection between the computer and PET was established; Rockman moved into the larger screen of the PC. No words needed to be spoken for the navi to understand that he had to show himself and talk with his Netto on the matters of his health, the subject that he nor the father, Yuichiro, grasped fully. Yet he also understood, by a tacit agreement made between him and Netto through an eye to eye contact, that if he did not speak frankly, or deliberately hid a detail, then Netto would not speak to him the same as before. It would not be an abandonment; no, he was too treasured and important to Netto for that. Rockman intuitively knew that his future would be that of an imprisonment. Netto would keep him in the PET, closed off from the network, and his fate would be no different than that of a goldfish, albeit greatly loved and cared for. Netto never threw away his toys—never. They were simply fossilized.
"Rockman...your right arm, it's...going to be okay, right?"
Netto had calmed down considerably since the return of Rockman to the PET, for his treasure, once lost, had returned. There were still marks of tears on his face, which he forgot to wipe down in his disquietude.
"...Un, Netto kun, it should be. Look, PET has already begun the repair sequence."
Rockman, quietly speaking, showed him the place of the severance (which made Netto shudder a little). Around it, particles were gathering slowly, and at the center was a little growth, marking the regeneration.
"...Good...good...good..."
Netto repeated the words in progressively diminishing voice; by the third 'good' he was almost inaudible. He did not know what to ask or where to begin. There was an uncomfortable silence, but Rockman could not say anything, for he had, ethically, no right to speak first. Netto was to ask; he was to answer.
"...Does it hurt, Rockman?"
A question about pain out of countless questions that circulated his mind! Rockman felt a bit happy; it showed how much the boy cared about him.
"No, it does not hurt Netto kun. I blocked the sensations..."
"Is that...bad?"
"Pain in itself is information, Netto kun. Without pain, I would, just like people suffering from CIPA, have trouble navigating our surroundings and managing ourselves. In battle routine, pain is diminished and I receive information regarding injuries in a more mechanical manner...like reading a text report with an attached diagram. So..."
"So you are still operating in the battle routine?"
"Yes, Netto kun, and I don't think it's a good idea to turn that off...for a while."
"Haaaaaaaaaaa...okay...we will do that...okay..."
Another long uncomfortable pause followed. Netto looked at the ceiling, trying to come up with the right question. After Netto rocked his chair five times in irritation, he faced Rockman and asked,
"Rockman, you are not okay, aren't you? Something's wrong. Really wrong. It's obvious you knew something about it. It's obvious papa knew something about it. I know I am not a smart person, but I thought you did not treat me like one. I hoped that you would not treat me like one..."
"No, Netto kun! It's not like that! I-I never-"
"Then why did you hide it from me?"
Cutting off Rockman's fiery defense in denial, Netto continued his accusation in a calm voice. There was indescribable coldness in Netto's eyes, which Rockman could not endure. It ruthlessly chiseled away at his soul—his splintered and mended, tender soul.
"No, I did not mean...I mean...It was not supposed to..."
Rockman was losing his voice, choking. He surrendered.
"I am sorry...I am so sorry, Netto kun...I..."
He was whimpering. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes. Even so, Netto did not relent.
"Tell me all about it, Rockman. All."
"...I...I...feel weak in the morning. I feel terrified for no reason. As I wake up, sometimes I am convinced that I am injured and check myself. I remember something terrible, but the memory disappears as a morning mist, only leaving behind the knowledge that it was terrible. I am sick, Netto kun. I have been this way from the beginning, and it's getting worse. It does not make sense, I know...it really doesn't..."
"So, that's why papa insisted on monthly checkups. What did he say?"
"...That it was all because I dream every night. Navis are not supposed to dream. It's the same vision repeated every time, really. Sunset over ACDC town..."
"Sounds benign, but alright. Got to be an easy fix. What is the problem?"
"The problem is," Rockman had to choose his words carefully here. His identity was off-limits. He promised the father, and a promise was a promise. "that Dr. Yuichiro found my core inaccessible. I could not be disassembled."
"Surely papa has a plan?"
"I don't know...the only plan we have is a forced disassembly should my symptoms grow too debilitating, which we expect to be...fatal for me."
There, he said it, the prospect of impending end.
"That does not make sense. Papa has no backup data of you?"
"No, Netto kun. We found out that I cannot be...copied."
"..."
"I...did not say anything because I wanted to stay with you, Netto kun. I am really sorry...I am such a failure of a netnavi. If...if you don't want me anymore, then-"
Rockman was being reduced to tears. The drops of his soul, molten like a glacier under the fulgent light of the truth, and his eyes, broken faucets. Drop, drop, drop, drop, drop...
"Rockman."
"...Yes"
"I know it. I know it too well—that you want to stay with me. Do you even know what you were saying during your berserk? You were constantly mumbling something about having to come back to me, finding me. I'm not going to throw you away, Rockman. I wasn't going to, I never planned to, and now it's doubly impossible after hearing all that. Even if you don't want it, you are staying here with me. I'm not letting you go. So, don't cry."
"...Okay"
Rockman stopped producing tears, but the ones he already made traveled down his cheeks, collected by the chin, and fell. The faucets were fixed, and the pitiful sight soon stopped. He pulled himself together and looked Netto in the eyes, and found, to his wonder, that they had the depth that he had never observed before, and that for the first time in his life he could not read the mind of his little brother. Relieving was that the coldness that wrenched him into honesty was no more, but the warmth to comfort him was absent. Mesmerized by the enigma that was Netto, who was for the first time dependable, not someone to be cared after, in Rockman's existence as a netnavi, he uncorked one of his wish bottles and poured it out:
"Netto kun."
"What is it."
"So, um...when I go for disassembly, will you come and stay with me? If you are next to me, I don't think I will be afraid..."
"No."
A little startled break on Rockman's part.
"Ah, I see...It won't be a pleasant sight, so I understand. Sorry for asking you to-"
"No, because it won't happen."
Whence was that confidence coming from? Truly, Netto Hikari was also the son of Yuichiro Hikari, ready to defy fate or die trying. It was the curse of the Hikaris—that they all descended into a form of madness in defiance against the world: Yuichiro in defiance of Saito's death; Saito in defiance of the separation from Netto; Netto now in defiance of the misfortunes of losing his treasures. What about Tadashi Hikari? What did he do?
"But if a promise makes you happier, then sure, I'll be there and hold your hands. But it won't happen."
This was the end of the first development.
The second development was his meeting with Yuichiro, which happened several days later. Netto moved nimbly with purpose, and when he finally accosted his father, his eyes wore the far-away expression which was very similar to what he had during the three months in which both Saito and Rockman were absent in his life. From the strange efficiency with which Netto organized himself, and the newfound features of serenity, the doctor correctly postulated, when his son entered the office, that an event befell Rockman which revealed some of the secrets. Yet, despite the similarities to his past aspects, Netto was not mired in misery. In him, Yuichiro saw determination and determination alone.
Therefore, when Netto, composed, told him of what had happened in the oven server, and demanded answers, Yuichiro propitiated by sharing with his son the information regarding Rockman's dream, other navi's dreams, and the issue of their delirium. Netto simply listened, only interjecting with few questions. Even as Yuichiro woefully typed in 'Rockman has entered the stage of delirium' on the chart, Netto exhibited no emotions. Yuichiro lastly expounded on his assumptions that the overwhelming odds of the battle triggered a response and, feeling like a quacksalver, prescribed the complete prohibition of netbattling for Rockman.
For two months, the instruction was meticulously followed. There were no more netbattles with Dekao, and the time was instead spent chattering away with the blue navi. Much to his shame, Netto found out how much he did not know about his own navi until now—how complex Rockman's emotions were, how much time the navi spent watching him, how sensitive the navi was to his moods, and how attentive the navi was to his needs. Every time Netto pulled out the PET, their eyes met and Rockman brightened. Netto also understood that he treated Rockman more or less as a tool, or a toy, before, and now more as a person. Were all custom navis like this? An inquiry to his friends revealed that the case of Rockman was indeed excessive, and the intricacy of his mind impressive. They suggested that Rockman might be an ambitious prototype by Dr. Yuichiro, packed with experimental features that he wished to explore for the next generation of custom navis. To Netto, it was a reasonable but unsatisfactory answer.
Rockman's symptoms, which Netto recorded and sent to his father on a daily basis, somewhat receded in severity, though never disappearing. Whether it was because Yuichiro's assessment was right or Netto did his best to soothe his navi of precarious condition was not important; the treatment regimen was maintained. However, the improvement did return the characteristic dynamism to Netto.
That was the end of the second development and the story of the theatrical life of the Hikari twins up to this point.
The day deviated from the established pattern when Mr. Yamitaro entered Netto's class for instructions but was afflicted by tremendous unease. He lapsed into intermissions of silences and sighs during the lecture. After not making any progress with the curriculum for a good fifteen minutes, he struck his own cheek twice, developed some kind of a masculine resolve in his posture, left the blackboard to his netnavi, Numberman, and stormed out of the classroom. The children burst into giggles. It was no secret that Mr. Yamitaro had an unreciprocated romantic interest in Ms. Mari, of which, strangely, only the receiver was unaware. Mayl, by her feminine instinct, did not believe in the innocence of Ms. Mari; she suspected that the homeroom teacher of theirs pretended ignorance as Mr. Yamitaro was the most difficult specimen to make a valuation of. By education and character, he was stellar; by physique and masculinity, sorely lacking. He was too good to give away but too unseemly to take for oneself.
"He's finally doing it! He's going to confess!" was the first remark among the class. The opinion was more or less a consensus. The question they had to ask was whether he was going to succeed. Soon, children gathered into a hot debate regarding the likely methodology and Mr. Yamiatro's chances.
"Higsby has to succeed. It is only right that good things should happen to good people!" was the argument of the sympathizers, who were mostly boys. The bravery of Mr. Yamitaro resonated with many of them. If their dork of a math instructor succeeded, then by corollary, they, too, had chances with Mayl.
"He has no chance. Look at his noodle arms, never brushed hair, dorky glasses. Where is the charm?" was the argument of the skeptics, who were mostly girls. Mayl and Yaito were of the same conclusion, though their reasonings were not so crude.
Netto remained aloof in his place. He had his chin resting on his left hand while watching Rockman, who was inside the school intranet, through the PET. The issue did not interest him; he was distracted with the plan of plucking a couple of Forsythia on the way home and giving it to his navi. His friends came over and tried to make him take a side, but unable to break his daydreaming, left him be.
In five minutes, the two groups, unable to prove the other wrong, jointly formed an excursion party. The two boys and two girls, chosen by others as the bravest and most decisive among their peers, were tasked with finding Mr. Yamitaro, witnessing how things unfolded, and reporting back to the class with the answer to their unending controversy. The brave four set forth, or tried. The doors were locked. Of course, Mr. Yamitaro, being the smart man, must have foreseen what the class would devise and locked the doors behind! What were they supposed to do? How were they to spy on their favorite nerd? One boy suggested going over to the class next door through the windows and balconies. "Stupid idea!" everyone exclaimed; it was class hours, and what would they do about the teacher in that room? The danger of jumping over gaps between balconies was not even considered. "Hack the doors!" one girl put forth her savage idea that bordered on illegality. But, ignoring the problem of their navis still being watched over by Numberman, who had a navi strong enough to make their dream come true? It was a stupid question that by sheer luck had an answer. Everyone trained their eyes on Netto.
Mayl took the bullet and approached Netto.
"Netto."
No reaction was elicited. She took the daring approach and shouted into his ears; the hopes and dreams of everyone depended on her.
"NETTO!"
"...Wah! Oh, hi Mayl. What's...up?"
"You know, Netto kun, we could really use your help..."
The boy noticed the undivided interest of the entire class concentrated on him.
"Which is?"
"Can you ask Rockman to unlock the doors? Please!"
Mayl even joined her palms together to express the urgency of the situation.
"...So you can go after Higsby?"
"Yes, please!"
"And then tease him for all eternity?"
"Tease? Celebrate!"
"I know which side you bet, Mayl."
"Oops."
"You guys are going to break that poor man."
"Break? No, Netto. He is a noble man personally demonstrating the true meaning of bravery! And we, as his pupils, have an obligation to watch and learn!"
"...You and your silky tongue...I'll ask Rockman. Just tell me about it later."
The class entered a silent frenzy, like stock brokers who were notified of sizeable bonuses. They did it. They won. The mystery shall be theirs.
Rockman connived and unlocked the door for them in five minutes, all the while avoiding the surveillance of Numberman. The excursion party left with suppressed footsteps in search of their target. The remaining students lost no time in collecting money and taking bets on the results. Yaito was chosen as the organizer as the one most trustworthy in financial dealings. Odds? Uncalculable! The winning group would take all, and then the money redistributed according to the weight of each contribution.
"Netto, interested?"
Yaito asked as she pushed the box forward, in which was the pool money. Netto was not interested in Mr. Yamitaro's romance nor did he want to gloat at his unhappiness. He knew, on the other hand, that Rockman sympathized with-
"Netto kun, can you hear me? Something does not feel right."
Rockman called from the PET. Netto pushed away the box, declining the offer. "Hmph, suit yourself." was all Yaito remarked as she went her way.
"What is it, Rockman?"
"Numberman just rounded up all of us and asked us to follow him. He could not give us a proper excuse for the effort. It seems the destination is the main server, which is connected to the internet."
"What the..."
"...and we have Iceman with us. He is hiding behind Roll. I'll let you see."
Rockman tilted the screen. Indeed, there was Iceman, an exceptionally small childlike netnavi designed after a caricature of an Eskimo, hiding behind Roll.
"Isn't he Tory Froid's netnavi from the class next to us? What's he doing here?"
"He apparently sneaked in at the beginning of the class, looking to borrow the textbook pdf from Roll. He could not go back as the school intranet was blocked, just like the physical doors. I, too, learned about it only a moment ago. Who quarantines school intranet, Netto kun? And why is Numberman the only one with the access codes? This is very suspicious. Where is everyone, by the way? Other navis tried contacting their operators, but no one is responding! I'm so glad you are here with me..."
"It's not jamming, Rockman. Everyone is simply..." Netto quickly checked the students and then gave up on his efforts to describe the silliness in the room. "...not in their seats...gambling"
"Gambling?!"
"Aaaah, what the heck, I suck at explaining. It's not important. What's important is that we cannot act on the suspicion alone, Rockman, but I have an idea. We will see how things go, and when it becomes serious, I'll inform Dekao and let him operate Gutsman. His temper is sure to make Numberman's true colors show. Meanwhile, remember, Rockman, under no circumstances-"
"I know, Netto kun. No battles, no engagements. Thank you. You are the best!"
Satisfied that they had a plan, Rockman did not make a move. The navis followed Numberman, who still exercised authority over them as the instructor's substitute. At the end of their path was the junction in the main server that lead to the external network, just as he suspected. What he did not expect was what happened next: pointing to the portal, Numberman instructed "Please, enter here. Today's assignments are yonder." The apathy in his voice did not fool Rockman; he scanned the Uniform Resource Locator (URL) of the portal, discovering that the final destination was encrypted. The events afterward unfolded with great haste.
Netto, upon hearing the report, nonchalantly called out to Dekao, telling him that Gutsman was looking for him. Dekao found out about the strange circumstances around his netnavi and then made such a ruckus that everyone abandoned their speculations of Mr. Yamitaro's future and returned to their seats. In the commotion, Netto picked up his PET and sneaked out of the classroom.
It did not take long before the confrontation between Gutsman and Numberman escalated. A battle ensued; Numberman installed numerous traps and time bombs around himself. Dekao erroneously ignored them and made a direct attack on Numberman, who certainly got hit hard and was launched to the wall, but the following explosions completely neutralized Gutsman. A peculiarity: Numberman seemed reluctant to engage, not even making any effort to dodge the attacks. He even said, as approaching the fallen Gutsman,
"This deed, I really did not want. My hands, you forced."
He planted more bombs on top of the navi that was struggling to exist, retreated to safety, and detonated them. Gutsman was no more—deleted. In the escalation of violence, other navis turned and looked at Rockman, who was standing at the back of the crowd, in unison. They split and made way for him; like the red sea under the staff of Moses they split! Roll, in particular, did so with great hope—if a navi that tore apart two hundred-something viruses and Fireman in unspeakable vehemence was not strength, then she did not know what was.
'I...I can't engage him, but I also have to...what about Netto kun?'
Stepping forward, Rockman checked the PET display from the corner of his vision. The scenery was upside down and moving very fast. His Netto was rollerblading somewhere in speed. His Netto was coming to save him. He decided to stall Numberman with empty talks.
"We don't have to do this, Numberman."
"Then, to the hyperlinked URL, please transport. Your assignment is prepared."
"What's the assignment, then?"
"To dream."
"...What?"
"On the other side, it will be made clear. Please enter."
"I won't. Unless you explain, it will be reported to the headmaster. Your operator, Mr. Higure Yamitaro, might even lose his job over your conduct. He is already in a serious trouble for what you did to Gutsman, which was an intentional harm to a property. I say you step down."
"No. You are stalling, you-" Numberman checked the class roster and then came back. "-Rockman, netnavi of Netto Hikari. Conversation—evaluated as meaningless. Use of force—authorized."
Rockman's right arm transformed into his buster. Thanks to Gutsman, he already knew the battle routine of Numberman, and he did not foresee a loss as a possibility, but what about his promise to Netto?
'I'm really sorry Netto kun. Surely, you will understand?'
Rockman aimed his buster at the navi, but did not fire. He hesitated. Numberman hesitated. Both did not speak further. In the tension rising to the flashpoint, any innocent noise would have triggered the fight. Perhaps it was fate that Netto's voice, which disrupted the standoff, did not sound so innocent.
"ROOOOCKMAAAANN STOP!"
Netto's voice came from two places—next to Rockman and next to Numberman. This meant that the PETs of both navis were in physical proximity of the boy.
"HIGSBY, SAY IT! SAY IT WITH YOUR OWN VOICE! TELL NUMBERMAN TO STOP!"
In his side of the display, Rockman could see Netto holding Mr. Higure Yamitaro by the back of the neck and shoving that man's face into his own viridescent PET. The background featured towering lustrous black casings, indicating that it was the main server room. Behind them was Ms. Mari, in florid face, showing teeth (Rockman wondered if she was growling), and trembling with clenched fists. Mr. Yamitaro's face was all roughed up, swollen and flushed red here and there. On the ground was a baseball bat.
"NOW!"
"Sh-Shtowp, Numbaahmaan..." The voice blew between the swollen cheeks and lips like a collapsed flute.
"And say that you won't do something like this again!"
"Aie vooont..."
"And say sorry to Rockman!"
"Shooowwiee..."
Netto, huffing and puffing, let go of the man, lifted his PET, and checked his treasure. Mr. Yamitaro slumped and lay down motionless.
"Rockman, are you, okay?"
The breathing was still heavy.
"Un, Netto kun! You came to save me! I'm, I'm so happy that I really don't know what to say..."
In this heroism of his operator, Rockman was deeply touched; his little brother saved him, just like in the beautiful old days! Not wanting to ruin the emotional high, he did not correct Netto that the one Mr. Yamitaro should have been sorry for was Dekao (and maybe Gutsman).
"Terrible! Terrible, indeed. Who would've thought that seemingly harmless mathematician could have been an agent of WWW! However, I need a clarification on this one point: Netto, did you beat up Mr. Higure Yamitaro with the baseball bat?"
Haruka had already finished her coffee and now was enjoying the tea. Her new cup was the same as that of Netto—the one on which was depicted Oliver Twist's forgiveness of Monks.
"No, mama. I took that from the storage only to threaten him. The storage door was jammed with a handle of a mop...and inside I also happened to find Ms. Mari. She claimed that Higsby trapped her there and went to the server room. She also said that she thought Higsby was going to confess to her, and that she felt betrayed...though, who could have known Ms. Mari could be so...what's the right word here?"
"Barbaric?"
"...that does not even start to describe her..."
Haruka chuckled uncontrollably.
"Oh, Netto, my son...you will be surprised at how many kinds of people are there...and all of them are opportunistic. The predator-prey relationship is determined by relative strength and circumstances and is often reversed, parameters permitting. Men are not always strong, nor can women always self-defend. At any rate, I now must ask. Can you forgive Mr. Yamitaro?"
"He...did say that he will not do such a thing again...but can I trust him?"
"Of course not. If you face him next time, and do not hold a grudge against him, then you would have forgiven. It does not necessarily involve being amicable or forgetting his past deeds; no, then I would consider your intelligence less than that of a raven. If you can remain not angry, and wish him well for what is worth, then there would be no burden on your heart. Can you do that?"
"...Maybe."
"As long as the sun does not go down in your wrath, Netto, it will be impossible to overstate my pride in you."
Netto, contemplated the issue with a contorted face, then drank from his cup.
"Good. Now, as for the topic of repentance, which I must comment a little as that mathematician promised you that he will turn away from his old ways, know that it is an action, not words or emotion. True repentance is simply not doing the same thing again, nothing more, nothing less. It is the promise to the future, never the present. Thus, no statement of repentance should be accepted on the spot, but verified over time. Let us keep an eye out together for what Mr. Yamitaro will do in the future, but I have a feeling that he will turn out to be fine."
"Why?"
"Because he did not commit his crime out of resentment against the world. He was denied in career and financially cornered, but still did not hold a resentment! Nine out of ten in the same conditions would've lost it. This means he was a meek individual who made a bad decision out of idiocy."
"So, that's your conclusion? That idiots are redeemable?"
"As long as the repentance is genuine, yes. As Professor Cipolla pointed out, intelligence or education is irrelevant in the displaying of this trait. On one topic, we can be experts, but on another topic, complete idiots. It's relative; It won't be difficult to find a subject in which I would be rendered a complete idiot. Therefore, if we don't say that idiots are redeemable...then the world would be hopeless. We would be hopeless."
Netto, sensing that this was the end of the tea time and the conversation, and also happy that Haruka did not upbraid the trouble he made in school today, stood up and started to his room. Haruka smiled approvingly, then added her final comment:
"Ah, I am told that Iceman went missing when all was said and done. Poor Tory...did they find that netnavi yet? At least it was fortunate that Dekao had a backup of his deleted Gutsman. I hope we get a happy ending for Tory and Iceman."