Please Do Not Leave Me Chapter 27: Happy Prelude, a mega man fanfic

Arc 3: The Gospel and the Man Eating Navis

Arc 3: The Gospel and the Man Eating Navis

The etymology of Gospel is this: god (good, old english) + spel (news or story, old english). Although in modern times the word is almost exclusively used to describe the first four books of the New Testament of Bible, the word in itself only describes a 'good news' or a 'good story' that is to be delivered.

In the MMBN game, and also other Rockman games, it is the name of a dog-lion thing made by Dr. Wily. I have no idea how the word ended up being so.

In this arc, the word 'gospel' is used true to its original meaning.

Chapter 27: Happy Prelude for an Unhappy Story

There were many dreams afterward. In each dream, Rockman found himself constantly assaulted by fatigue that was like high waves of Bering Strait, and him like an empty fishing boat. He was extremely sleepy; the adverb 'extremely' is used here without slightest exaggeration. His eyes were oppressively heavy, and his mind wearisome. So much so, in fact, that even though in each dream he encountered Netto, he could not do anything but fall asleep—sleep within sleep—as soon as he threw his arms around the boy, snuggling in pure contentment. At the same time, precisely because he was in close contact with Netto, feeling the warmth of the blood (how was this possible in the dream? Rockman did not question), in which was life, and also because the boy reciprocated his approaches by pulling him closer, securing him tightly, Rockman did not find these arrangements lacking. These dreams were pleasantly languorous, just like how the veranda baked in the afternoon sun is to a fat old house cat.

Nothing is perfect. All good things must come to an end. When the light of the day tickled his eyes, when the warmth of the sun embraced his soul, when the black heart pumped its blood to his limbs, the dreams were no more. Rockman was ejected from that pleasant realm and his eyes opened. The morning had arrived in full force; ah, the peace! Peace of the sun that runs like a river! Rockman tried to stand up-

"Ah-! Hiyaah?! Wha- wha- wha- what is this-"

-only to fail to do so. His body felt incredibly sensitive, and Rockman nearly stumbled—everything was somewhere between pleasure and pain. Pain, he could understand, maybe; he was out for a while. Pleasure? What surprised him the most was that there was a mild aching at his nipples and the area surrounding them, as well as an uncomfortable ticklish heat in his pubic area. Worse, his genitalia felt debilitatingly hot and tingling. Even his mouth was nervous, including his tongue, and it was as if his buccae (insides of cheeks) and palate (ceiling of mouth) were sparking electrical currents of excitement. His skin was on libidinous fire—so hot, so pulsating, so agonizing, so deep! What was happening to him? Rockman defensively, and exceptionally carefully, curled up on the floor, scared and not knowing what to do (even in this simple movement moans almost escaped him). Why was this happening to him? His body, not knowing what to do, trembled as in hyperthermia. Was this the aftermath of the devouring? Rockman could not call out, for any movement and his body would've…would've what? But the oversaturated pleasure was like an explosive, waiting to be set off. If it explodes, then what? Would he convulse on the floor like a fish, with a severely disorganized face, making uninhibited moans that could shock and arouse anyone who heard him? No! Never that! So Rockman waited…thankfully, the sensations subsided in time (had it not, then Rockman surely would've shed pitiful tears capable of igniting something very dangerous inside Netto), and then, in the end, he could stand up. Also, because the sensations subsided so completely, without a trace, Rockman decided that he would worry about it later. 'If it repeats tomorrow…'

Familiar place. Familiar faces. Familiar safety. Familiar normalcy. A digital place of a cuboidal dimension; a large screen that occupied almost the entirety of a wall; a white operating table on which he was lying, which was the main workspace. It was Yuichiro's office server. Rockman moved closer to the screen, which was like a transparent wall, and observed things outside: a cheap coffee table that held some fond memories, an exceedingly spacious desk, layers after layers of cabinets buried under boxes after boxes of documents, dried coffee rings, a dirty mug with cold brown liquid, an exceptionally sagging sofa of black faux cowhide that was more comfortable than a bed to sleep on, a worn office chair which laboriously creaked every time someone reclined on it, three computers and five monitors on which were the real-time displays of the scan data of Rockman. On the chair was Yuichiro, sleeping on the desk in an unkempt manner, beaten up by fatigue, using his arms as pillows, oily hair, untrimmed stubbles along the jaw line, drooling-

'...So that's where the Netto kun's sleeping habit comes from.' observed Rockman.

Ahem. Anyways, continuing. On the sofa was-

'Netto kun!'

Yes, Netto kun, in his orange-colored pajamas, clearly having had a shower the night before, evidenced by the clean face and scattering hairs on which the morning light softly reflected. The boy was sleeping curled up, arms crossed across the chest, as if he was hugging himself—fighting against a formidable loneliness—, or as if he was imagining someone else was between his arms.

Based on the organization of the scene, and the angle from which he saw all this, Rockman was able to determine his exact position. He was behind the main screen in his father's office. The screen was of such size and resolution that it displayed netnavis at one-to-one scale in respect to their real-life counterparts—humans. When netnavis worked in this place, visitors to Yuichiro's office often remarked (insensitively) how it was as if the place had become an aquarium, or a zoo, admired how deliciously Yuichiro controlled those digital servants, wondered if netnavis could become real somehow (the real motive for the question was to subject their slaves to all the ways of their perverted hearts), and inevitably inquired to Yuichiro if the screen-barrier could somehow be overcome, connecting the two worlds as one. It was such a device, such a place. So while Rockman stood there and contemplated on whether he should wake up the boy, it was as if he was simply located in a chamber that was partitioned from the office with a single glass pane, his appearance fully human in size.

In the end, Rockman decided not to disturb the stillness at hand. He sat down at a place that offered him the best view of Netto's sleeping face, leaned on his hand, and waited. In this action, there were some undeniable similarities between him and a golden retriever lying on a floor with a rather pensive expression that is an equal mix of patience and boredom. Yes, the comparison is a correct one: just as golden retrievers, in idleness, tend to sink towards the floor like squished mochi rice cakes, so did Rockman's head nearly melt into his hand as time went on. He waited nevertheless, for the peace of Netto was an imperative that had to be protected. He also entertained himself with mischievous thoughts during the wait, such as desiring to witness Netto's guilt-ridden happiness—the guilt of missing the moment of his awakening disruptively oscillating within the extreme joy of reunion.

When the long shadows made by the morning sun retreated from the room as the day progressed, Netto joined the realm of wakefulness. In seeing that, Rockman instinctively checked the time: it was nearly half past ten. There was no need to do so, but the habitual clock check granted one realization: that the sight was real. The server was real. The wait was real. Netto was real. Everything was real! The boy rose rather leisurely, quite sure that nothing extraordinary had happened during his unawareness, for that had been the experience up until this day, and it was impossible for the boy to have formulated a different expectation this day. He rubbed his eyes. He yawned. He stretched. Then, in a dutifully routine movement, he walked up to the screen, half asleep, leaned on it, and began to speak.

"Saito niisan...good morning-"

Netto was interrupted by a long and fierce yawn. It dominated him completely; like a lion he stretched his mouth…(Rockman somehow managed to find even that unkempt display adorable). Once it was over, he continued, absent-mindedly, not realizing that Rockman was no longer to be found on the operating table,

"-I...today was a bit strange. I did not see you in my dream...I was lonely, you know? But I guess-" The second yawn interrupted the boy. It seemingly sapped away the will to finish the complaint. "-well, I'll be waiting here, so...please come back...alright?"

In the last remark, there was a distinct mark of optimistic sadness.

"Good morning, Netto kun." said Rockman.

"Good morning, Saito niisan..." repeated Netto. "Wait...wait, I already said that..."

Netto, unsure whether he was being fooled by the afterimages of his nocturnal visions, rubbed his eyes again and squinted to investigate the place where Rockman should have been. There was no one. Upon realizing that there was no one, he simply stopped thinking.

"What..? This...this does not make sense..." muttered Netto.

Netto inspected the place in unbelief. The idea of scanning other parts of the digital chamber apparently did not come to him, and his brain was still somnolent, refusing to work. However, Rockman spoke again, before the boy turned his unbelief into the belief of a disaster, and then that belief into a panic.

"Over here, Netto kun."

Netto found Rockman. In finding Rockman awake and smiling towards him, the unbelief turned into disbelief. So,

"Oh" said Netto. "So this one is this kind of dream."

"Not a dream, Netto kun." Rockman reminded kindly.

"...That's very interesting. But feeling sleepy in the dream is such a pain. I think I'll sleep out this dream... Saito niisan, can you cross over to here?"

"...Netto kun." Rockman said softly in disappointed perplexion.

"It would be nice to sleep together on the sofa. Look, there's plenty of space."

"I can't do that."

Netto looked at Rockman as if he had heard the most unreasonable statement of his life. First, there was the look of 'Oh, this is new,' which then changed into the look of 'You've got to be kidding me,' which then resolved into 'I...I know exactly what this is,' which then finally transformed into 'I can't wait to quit this dream.'

"So no hugs? So you are this kind of Saito niisan, and it's this kind of dream. You know, you were so nice in my other dreams." carped Netto. The boy then added, "Nothing is perfect."

An airy chuckle spontaneously emerged from Rockman.

"Netto kun, this is real."

"…Prove it."

Netto crossed his arms.

"Pro- Hah, Netto kun! Hahahahahaha! Haaaa... maybe try pinching yourself?"

Rockman suggested in jest, but Netto found the proposal reasonable. He even found the argument infallible. Naturally, Netto proceeded to pinch his cheek. Seeing that Rockman did not disappear or that he did not wake up, Netto repeated the action with greater force.

"Ow! Owwww..." A regretful moan came from the boy after the fingers had left their marks on his cheek. Then, having been sufficiently convinced that what he was experiencing was real, he verified, "Saito...niisan? Are you-"

Rockman walked up to Netto, standing right across the boy.

"Real, Netto kun."

Rockman smiled. He pressed his palm against the screen. Netto saw the series of motions in a petrified state.

"See?" repeated Rockman.

Netto almost hesitantly raised his hand and pressed his palm against the screen, meeting Rockman's palm. The act was done with such slowness, such care, and such reverence, that the boy did so without breathing once. Only when the reassurance and love overflowing from the bright emerald eyes reached him could he resume breathing, and then-

"Saito niisan... Saito niisan!" Netto erupted.

"Un, Netto kun."

'Saito niisan! You are...you are awake! You are back!"

Tears of joy wet his cheeks. The way they glittered in the light of the day reminded Rockman of diamonds.

"Saito niisan!" repeated Netto, just to make sure that he could ascertain that what he beheld, which was beautiful beyond words, was real.

"Yes, Netto kun!"

"Saito niisan!" repeated Netto, just to really make sure.

"Netto kun!"

"Saito niisan!" To really really make sure, of course.

"Netto kun!"

"Saito- nii-san!"

The innocence that had not been observed since the passing of Saito! The tenderness that had not been observed since the passing of Saito! Netto called the name in the way that it should have been called. Indeed the name was repeated many times… When the heart of the boy was sufficiently satisfied with repeated assurances, and when it was proven, beyond all skepticisms, that the lost treasure had been restored, the fibrous scars that had accumulated in his soul over the past year uncontrollably dissolved. When they were dissolved, the innocence that had been buried under those scars was revived, like a chick hatching from an egg, as Lazarus of Bethany redelivered into life.

"Don't worry, Netto kun. I'm not going anywhere." Rockman leaned his forehead into the screen. He closed his eyes and imagined that the screen did not exist between them; the resultant image pleased him greatly.

"Heh heh heh heh... Saito niisan..." Netto's, grinning like an idiot, likewise pressed his forehead against Rockman's. The boy closed his eyes and imagined that the screen did not exist between them. When the imagination was strong enough...or was it the case of other senses being amplified in the absence of the sight? Netto felt warmth. Netto liked the warmth. "This is so nice."

"Me too, Netto kun! This is so nice..." Rockman also basked in the warmth that he suddenly felt, which he attributed to his Netto-starvation. "So papa told you...everything?"

"Yes. It would've been nice if you told me everything sooner."

"...I'm sorry, Netto kun." In contrast to the apology, Rockman's voice was soaked in the satisfaction of the moment.

"No need, niisan. I understand...as much as I don't want to admit, papa has a point. He always has a point, and I am usually not smart enough to disprove him. But that's not the point here. I'm just glad that I finally get to know that you are here, and that I get to spend more time with you..."

Netto suddenly lifted his head and uneasily added,

"Saito niisan, this means...this means you are not sick anymore, right?"

Rockman lifted his head, sensing that the warmth he had been enjoying had disappeared. Sickness of the flesh, the death hath cured it all, but the sickness of the soul…

"Right?" Netto pressed impatiently.

'I don't know.' was what Rockman almost said, but when the unstable expression of the boy filled his eyes, the words so cowardly ran away from his tongue. So he had to assemble a response out of what courageous words still remained. There were not many words left; there were not many combinations possible. The result amounted to him saying instead, "I am fine now, Netto kun."

Strictly speaking, this was not a lie, for he knew that the crimson dream, the dream of the navi, was no more. It had collapsed with the devouring. However, it also meant his defilement… Ah, but what was the use of discussing it? It was a morose subject which Netto needed not to know…yet. Rockman diverted the conversation.

"So, what happened? How did you get out? I'm so glad that you are safe, but-" Rockman hurriedly asked.

"Officer Enzan arrived just in time and helped me out with his netnavi, Blues. You called him to help me out, remember?"

"...Enzan?" Rockman echoed incredulously.

"Yeah, him. Two-tone eggshell hair? The youngest netpolice officer? You remember, right?"

Netto spoke with great concern. To him, it seemed as if Rockman was having trouble remembering. The boy fearfully considered the possibility of Rockman's memory being fragmented—and the guess was a rather smart one considering all that had passed—for he remembered the episode of catastrophic forgetting Rockman suffered some time ago; however, the guess was an incorrect one. That was not the source of Rockman's incredulity. The problem was 'Enzan.' No, readers, not the person, but the fact that Netto called that officer by the name, which indicated close acquaintance, and not by the family name, which indicated distanced formality, which should have been the case. Rockman had, for a long time, Enzan classified as a potential blacklist entry in his memos, and he also had no intention of granting Enzan the privilege of being removed from the unfavorable impressions. The officer had been rude to Netto, as far as his memory went, and that was unforgivable.

"...You are...calling him...by the name?" Rockman commented almost out of breath. "That...arrogant...impolite..."

"Come on, Rockman." Understanding what Rockman meant, Netto hastily (and inadequately) attempted to defend himself. "Turns out that he is not that much of a jerk. We, uh, kinda became friends. You will see what I mean, later. Don't look at me like that, Rockman, I'm serious! I mean he is-"

Rockman lifted his hand and signaled Netto to stop. The boy, in response, promptly stopped. Rockman looked quite disturbed, maybe angry, maybe frustrated, with an almost frigidly piercing gaze, and Netto somehow felt contrite, like a child caught by his mother after disobedience, though there was no objective reason to feel so. Ah, but who can blame this boy? There was a subjective reason: Netto, after learning that Rockman is Saito, became deathly afraid of Rockman's disapproval, of any kind, of any form.

"Netto Hikari." Rockman called in a low voice.

"Ye-yes?"

"Tell me. Tell me everything. What happened, afterwards, with him, without him. Everything."

"N- now?"

"Yes. Now."

The command was absolute.

The story Netto recounted was this: shortly after Rockman received the...the...black...ugh!

"ki-kiss!" After turbulently swaying back and forth between abhorrence and embarrassment, Netto successfully put forth the word. Netto also avoided eye contact while doing so, but Rockman did not notice it as he, too, shily avoided eye contact.

But Netto did not end there. He described how Magicman most enthusiastically invaded Rockman's orifice, how infuriating it was, how...indecent (the proper term was 'what should have been his got stolen' but Netto, from the deepest subconsciousness, denied that possibility. Therefore, he truly believed that the implied indecency was the culprit of all his woes) he felt, how concerned he was, how he could sense the blood escaping him, and how-

"Alright, alright, I get it, Netto kun! P-please continue from the next part-"

Having remembered the worst moment in his life, and feeling incredibly unclean, Rockman could not face Netto anymore. He looked away to the side. He was violated. He was unclean. He was unworthy. The joy of reunion began to evaporate and it seemed...then, when he was reminded, by his own memories, of the sweetest cleansing in the dream, Rockman was equally unable to face Netto, for the scene was rendered inside him electrifyingly vividly, making his heart flutter like a caged pheasant. Then there was the creeping greed of wanting to replicate it in reality—it scared him. He hurriedly pushed Netto to move on, and with that decision, also pushed away the strange desire that was worming its way into his conscious thoughts.

So when the black kiss happened and Rockman remained in the hold of Magicman, trembling, growing weaker, receiving the filthy gift, and then his consciousness finally falling into the darkness, and Netto was both aghast and hopeless, Blues entered the server in that impeccable timing and gave coup-de-grâce to that violator. The way Blues served the justice to that foulest creature was as follows: first he pierced the head of Magicman from behind, at the occipital lobe, but without penetrating fully so as to not harm Rockman who was the hostage. He then, using his sword like a fork, or a fishing rod, pulled Magicman away, separating the two heads (and mouths, yes, which were the most important to Netto). When freed, the body of the blue navi collapsed just as a stringless puppet does—knees buckling, spine bending backwards, arms extracted from the chest of Magicman and then powerlessly tailing the trajectory of the motion, lifeless visage facing upward like a body surrendering its soul. The body came to the rest on the ground, and Netto remembered the horror that he had forgotten for a while: in the gray pale face, in the closed eyes, in the half-open mouth, in the signs of sepulchral exhaustion below the orbit, he saw the face of Saito as it was in the morgue, that peaceful expression of utter enervation. They were undeniably identical. Verily, it was a blessing for Netto that he was oblivious to Rockman's identity at that moment, for had he known, he surely would've lost his mind.

Having checked that the hostage had been fully removed, Blues then decisively split Magicman vertically, along the midline. The insides of Magicman became exposed, and what was within flowed out...except that hardly anything flowed out. It was nearly empty. It was as if the innards had been eaten away by some parasites, save some atrophied organoids—blackened, sclerosed, and barely recognizable—and liquid of blue-green color. It was a curious case. Throughout the entire execution Magicman did not offer any resistance, let alone any response, for his core was already broken by Rockman's hands.

And then everything else happened quickly out of necessity. The reactor overload was nearly complete, and Enzan understood the priorities of his assignment even as he recognized the anomaly of Magicman's corpse and its inevitable importance to his understanding of this world; before arriving, he had absorbed the extraordinary confession of Yuichiro—which Enzan admitted that he would not have dared to even consider had it not been the doctor who was speaking it—and the evidence against his doubts was right before him. However, in his excellence, integrity, and diligence, Enzan abandoned the idea of obtaining the corpse of Magicman. He commanded blues to retrieve Rockman instead, opened the door, and brought Netto out from the institution of which the skeleton of steel bars began to groan in impending structural failure.

When the safe distance had been achieved, the truth was shared: Rockman was Saito. The 'cure' was given: Saito. bat. Despite having been the one to have consistently wished Rockman to be Saito, Netto was the one to most stubbornly deny the truth. Enzan did not bother; it was beyond his pay grade to do so, and the job was done. Netto was sent away to Yuichiro before the other members of law enforcement arrived.

To be exact, Netto installed Saito. bat. when he received it. What did he think? Was he happy, because his perverted wish of man-made resurrection had come true? Was he resentful of his father because of the lies? Was he disappointed in Saito for masquerading as a netnavi? Was he incapable of coherent thoughts, willing to take anything for the sake of Rockman? Was he bitter at himself, because he was ready to be fooled again by impossibly sweet premises? Was he protesting at the world, because he was always deprived of that which he loved, and to install Saito. bat. was an act of defiance? It is difficult to pinpoint or describe what the boy's state was at this moment with satisfactory exactness, for his heart was composed of all of these, and the contribution of each vector constantly varied, forming a dynamic equilibrium. On the way to Scilab, and even as he crossed the threshold of Yuichiro's office, Saito. bat. calibration continued, and his heart equally refused to find peace.

Netto did not have to ask. In fact, he did not have to speak a word. When his father saw him, read his countenance, recognized the PET, and instantly understood what had transpired, he shouted "Saito!" The evidence could not have been more convincing—Netto was fully ignored. Because his father fully ignored him, Netto also understood, by heart, that it was true—Rockman was Saito! Then, it was also true, by corollary, that he had just lost Saito twice, or was on the verge of the second loss. Netto objected with a trembling voice.

"Papa, he is...Rockman is...Saito...niisan? You are…joking...right?"

In response, Yuichiro only gave a careless glance—and Netto could read nothing in the eyes of his father, for in them was only a fragmenting mind—and snatched away the PET from the boy. He then continued, in stuttering lachrymose, fixated on he who was inside, "Saito...I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry...I gave you the heart touched by god. I was too late. I did not know what to do. Please, forgive me, as you always did, as you always do, as you always will. Please, forgive me, please...please..."

In the way Yuichiro handled the PET, one would imagine that the object was a reliquary of Saint George of the Diocletian praetorium, and him a London lobster about to make a charge against royalists in the battle of Cheriton. One would also imagine that Netto would, naturally, confront his father, or make demands of certain compensations for the injustice of ignorance he had been subjected to. Netto did not do so. He felt inadequate to assume such a position of righteousness. His conscience drilled him, and he was bolted to the floor. He remembered all of his sins. He remembered the adventures and crimes he subjected Rockman to. In particular, he had to come to terms with his recent morbid ideations of dying with Rockman, which he almost accomplished, only thwarted by Rockman's foresight... To Netto, that was tantamount to betrayal; Saito wanted him to live, and he had given up. There was no defense to be made, for the thought was translated into the action. He was culpable. 'Mea Culpa!' shouted his conscience into his ears.

"Saito niisan..." In a hoarse whisper, Netto pleaded. "No, no, no, no, no- this, this can't be-"

Then, a delusion inundated Netto's mind: that Saito was leaving him because he had betrayed him. That it was all a punishment for the bad boy who had decided to not endure life and chose the comfort of death instead. Therefore, Netto, in a whisper that was equally silent, repented,

"Please...I'll be a good boy now...Saito niisan, please...please don't leave me..."

"Netto kun, it's not your fault." Saito commented to the boy who was struggling to maintain his voice. "It's my fault."

"No, Saito niisan. I...to be honest with you, I... I was... without you, I...was never..."

"Shh...Netto kun."

"It's okay, Saito niian. I'll- I'll tell you. I can do it. You have to know-"

When Rockman was transferred to Yuichiro's workspace, and the fear inside the boy's heart had stabilized, Netto finally conversed with his father. At first, it began with questions, to which Yuichiro remained silent, for he decided to bear all blame without excusing himself in any manner. The questions gradually mutated into accusations of a terrible nature. Yuichiro bore them in silence also, for they were all true, and his soul was desiring righteous whippings to gain a chance at redemption. The only reactions Yuichiro made were the dry descriptions of what he did, why he did it, how he came to be convinced of Rockman's nature, the experiments he had conducted, what he had discovered so far about the god of navis, and that he had delivered the god-touched Saito. bat. out of his own selfishness. The doctor said all these like a transgressor admitting to everything before a court—distantly apologetic, almost emotionless.

In facing no resistance, Netto's anger was reduced to a smolder—there was no fuel for the fire! In a few days, it was no more. Each time his eyes gazed at the sleeping face of Rockman, everything seemed meaningless and permissible. There was only a cold sense of loss and a flicker of blasphemous hope that the vile god-touched heart would return Saito once more to him. For a happy ending? To a demon-touched (Yuichiro firmly held the belief that the god of navis was no god but a demon) story like this? Return of Saito, and then what? To achieve what? Netto every so often found him walled in by these formidable questions, but the only answer he could produce was this: 'Let me...just let me see him once more. Once more. That's all I ask. Once more...'

Netto's new routine was a natural one: he made daily visits. The summer break soon began, and he turned himself into a semi-permanent resident of Yuichiro's office. He spent nights there as many times as he could, as often as he could. He had to see Saito. That was the only energy for his life, the only way of recharging his willpower. More and more personal items migrated from Netto's room. Netto also near-religiously cleaned himself every night in the shower so that he could be perfectly proper for the occasion of Saito's awakening, whenever it might turn out to be-

"...Rosemary?" muttered Rockman absent-mindedly.

"That's what is written on the shampoo bottle. I remember it because I found it strange...wasn't Rosemary for seasoning, like, meat?" returned Netto. And then, with a tinge of excitement, "You can tell?"

"...No. Please continue."

Rockman's eyes shook.

It did not take long before Enzan, unable to suppress his curiosity, started to make rounds to Rockman. It was not compassion, to be sure; now that he became aware of Saito's supernatural existence in this world, and when he begrudgingly admitted to himself that there simply could not be any other explanation possible, Rockman seemed more alarming, uncontainably dangerous. In a way, he reached similar conclusions as Yuichiro's in his thought experiment: that the world would enter a frenzied blasphemy in pursuit of man-made eternity, a man-made paradise, a man-made superiority, a man-made ascension. It meant the breakdown of all moralities bound to flesh and the finitude of life. It meant abolishment of both happiness and tragedies, beauty and monstrosity, virtue and vice, or even the very concepts of love and hatred. The solution to this problem, in his view, was simple: deletion of Rockman. The dead should stay dead, and the world would avoid the peril without anyone noticing it.

If Enzan truly believed in that solution and was sufficiently motivated by heroism, he might have tried plunging a dagger into the heart of Rockman in one of the nights. There were many nights; he had many opportunities. But who can resist the temptation of knowledge when even Adam and Eve, who were said to have known God personally, could not? How does a person give up the opportunity to prove and learn about the world beyond, the world incorporeal, the laws beyond physics? Thus, in ambivalence, he visited Rockman and Netto, always in the late afternoon, his mind turbulent, but always morbidly curious.

The curiosity was never quenched. In each visit, Enzan simply spent time silently, sitting on a chair or next to Netto, staring at Rockman, deep in thought. Netto was not exactly enthusiastic about this new pattern in which his summer afternoons were weaved. His Rockman was being shared, and he did not like it. Nevertheless, he tolerated Enzan for two reasons: first was that Enzan's interest was not in Rockman but in the condition of Saito. Second was that he was indebted to Enzan for the saving of Rockman, or at least preserving what was remaining of him. Therefore, afternoons passed with both of them acknowledging each other, and then looking at Rockman with thoughts of their own, until the day passed into the sunset of sakura-pink to flaming-orange colors. Enzan left when the waning sunlight struck him in the face and was reminded of the time.

Turned out that the officer had overestimated himself, especially in the realm of self-restraint and maturity of mind. With prolonged exposure to each other, the tacit companionship became a natural fact of life. When the companionship became natural, the usual guard he had up around his heart laxed. So he started to leave a comment or two to Netto, who listened without showing any sign that he was listening—not breaking his gaze toward Rockman—, though the officer knew that Netto was listening regardless. Soon, these comments became sentences, sentences paragraphs, and paragraphs into an uncontrolled discharge of his workplace woes. At this point, Netto began to speak a little in response, partly because he was irrepressibly amused, and partly because he wanted to make Enzan stop the ramblings. Unfortunately, the effect was the opposite. The reactions only doubled Enzan's enthusiasm.

Through these exchanges, Netto found Enzan to be more human than the initial impression and therefore compassionable. The boy also found the officer a little contemptible. The officer was still looking for meaning in his life, for something precious, for someone in whom he could find virtues to protect. Ah, what was that, readers? What could be contemptible about the noble struggles of a man repeated as many times as the number of men ever existed on the Earth? The answer lay in the perceived hypocrisy in Enzan. The officer had a slip of the tongue one day, revealing how he ran away from his home, how he could not suffer his father any longer, and that he found his father to be one of the most twisted individuals in the world. Yet it was eminently clear in the way he looked and the words he chose that he still held a great admiration for his father, and that he was simply struggling with the desire to be recognized by him. The hatred, when considered carefully, was ironically directed towards the self, not at the described dysfunctional father; yes, Enzan hated himself for having failed to meet the impossibly austere standards of his family, and he felt that he had become a disappointment without a possibility of recovery. Enzan was a prodigal son desperately looking for an excuse to return to his father in defeat but not finding any.

"...I still don't trust him" said Rockman, pouting, unable to accept that Netto might be right.

"Come on, Saito niisan, he is not half-bad!"

"...Maybe. But that does not mean I-"

"If he tries to do something to you, I'll punch him in the face, so- okay?"

Netto showed him his fist, trying to appear strong and dependable. Rockman could not help but erupt into a giggle.

"Hehehehe- what is that, Netto kun? Okay, fine, you win! I guess I'll take his name out of the blacklist!"

"You already had him blacklisted?!"

Oops.

What more shall I say? How Yuichiro woke up, hugged Netto, and pleaded to Rockman "Thank you, Saito...thank you so much for granting me the third chance..." with great shame, in a voice that was like a candle fire blown by the wind, all the while trembling in fear, for he also knew that twisting the fabric of reality inevitably came with repercussions, yet he could not stop himself from tempting the fate again? How Netto was truly a Yuichiro's son, for he was of the same sentiment, willing to sacrifice any and all for a moment with Saito, and therefore silently agreed with his father, not repeating any of the ethically principled accusations he made when Rockman's identity was first revealed to him? In the interaction was embedded the consent to partake in the same sin together, and even Rockman was not without blame, for it was he who had begun this chain reaction by returning to Netto from the afterlife. The story that could have been about a friendship between a boy and a netnavi, he transformed into a story of a monomania of recovery and intolerance of loss. Ah, but the boys were rather optimistic; they did not yet fully grasp the zero-sum nature of the world, the law which was generally applicable—that there must exist a counterweight to this degree of happiness. They were rather happy that their father let them out without much hassle, too busily occupied with each other, and Yuichiro alone bore the entirety of the grim anticipation in his heart. "Tell your mama...Haruka...that I'll be home tonight. Tell her that...no. Don't worry. I'll do it myself." was the father's farewell.

Netto had a grin on his face the whole way back to their home. Rockman had to constantly remind him that he should be called 'Rockman' and not 'Saito,' or worse, 'Saito niisan,' lest someone notice the oddity. However, Rockman, too, could not stop himself from making smiles and grins, chattering with Netto throughout the transit, and did not strictly enforce the usage of the proper pronoun. 'Saito niisan' might have slipped from Netto's mouth here and there, but the metro was empty and the streets were sparsely occupied at this time of the year, at this hour of the day, that there was no one to pay attention to this silly happy boy and his silly happy netnavi. Cicadas were loud; the summer and the scorching sun were here.

Netto, the happiest soul in the world, arrived home just in time for lunch, with happily bouncing footsteps, similar to how foxes trot across a spring field of flowers and sprouts, and with happy breaths dwelling on his lips. Rockman, on the other hand, found himself reluctant to be present, and nervously fidgeted inside the PET, though he did not let it be known. The last memory of her, and the last conversation they had...he remembered how his mother claimed something that was not love to be love, and dread swept him. Yes, he dreaded the encounter that was bound to occur... Ah, no, readers, the sentiment was not an antipathy but an uncertainty. All his life, Haruka had been gentle and dedicated, never having scolded him once. Then think how great must have been his bewilderment when the other facade of his mother he witnessed was not a one that was comprehensible, but a wretched madness! Rockman needed some time to process the experience, which would have inevitably resulted in him grasping that his mother was a human like any other, having qualities of goodness and wickedness alike, albeit a bit more twisted, a bit more calculating than the average. But the time he was not granted, and he was yet to humanize the image of his mother, which so far had been flatly benevolent, and therefore he prepared to meet Haruka with confused expectations.

Inside, Haruka was thinner than how Rockman remembered her to be. She was positioned near a window, looking outside. There was, however, no sign of unhappiness in her posture; she was like a doll, inhumanely still, impossible to decipher. Upon further inspection, it was evident that she had been generally neglecting herself for a while, presumably coinciding with the duration of Saito's unconsciousness, as the protrusion of bones—especially the acromion of scapulae—was prominently visible over the thin summer clothes covering her shoulders, while the hands under the unseasonal long-sleeves did not show the gloss of typically healthy skin. When she saw Netto entering home with a bright countenance, the dollish aura dispersed. Her eyes sparkled like the stars of a clear night.

"Netto!" remarked Haruka, in a gentle yet firm voice, unlike her husband who was singularly fixated on Saito out of his profound guilt. Rockman noticed it. Rockman also noticed how she took care of Netto first even though she clearly knew that the long-awaited arrival of her firstborn was here. She approached and hugged the boy. Ah, the warmth of the mother, the summer embrace of unconditional nurture, the hope of all men...the reason why men, later in life, return to the graves of their mothers to cry!

"Saito!" greeted Haruka, after kissing Netto on the forehead. Rockman waved his hand with an uncomfortable smile. "I did not hear anything from you boys! Netto, I thought you would spend your day in your father's office as usual-"

"We wanted to surprise you!" claimed Netto. Well, the truth was that he had simply forgotten in his preoccupation with Saito.

"Well then, surprised me, you have!" said Haruka rather nonchalantly. Rockman could not figure out whether Haruka was not surprised but playing along, or truly surprised but had not the strength to express it. "So, what says your father?"

"Papa says he will be coming home tonight." Returned Netto.

"Really? That is awfully ambitious of him. The world does not work like that, and I know it's currently the evaluation season, and that he is wanted everywhere... It seems I'll have to go and see his face tonight, making sure that he is at least not wallowing in some neanderthal level of hygiene. One of these days, I'll- oh, what am I saying! You must be hungry. Come on, now, let me fix up something quickly-"

Haruka retreated to the kitchen in quick short steps that somehow appeared more graceful than rushed. The pacing and stride taken between steps were such that they were impeccably appropriate, not too wide nor not too narrow, not too loud nor not too quiet, showing that she was a true examplar of high Japanese decorum. Rockman saw that there was nothing on the stove nor any leftovers stored in the refrigerator—another sign of Haruka's neglect of everything pertaining to the maintenance of the family, including herself. Besides these signs, however, Haruka treated the entire situation as if it were one of her normal days. In the sense of normalcy that hovered in the air, Rockman was relieved. The mother he saw last time was not there, gone like an apparition; she was as she had always been—predictable. Was everything a bad dream, and the previous impression a hallucination? Everything seemed to be just as it should've been...and Rockman decided that he would forget about the strangeness of his mother that he witnessed the other day.

Netto cleaned up the lunch quickly, and went upstairs, eager to have a private time with Rockman. Rockman was, likewise, focused on Netto, no longer nervously observing his mother, unburdened as his uneasy anticipations did not materialize. Because he was focused on Netto, he did not hear the words of Haruka, spoken to herself, or maybe spoken to the world, as they went upstairs.

"So it is. It is like this. The beginning of the end."

Upstairs. As soon as they were alone, Netto began, timidly,

"Saito niisan,"

"Yes, Netto kun?"

"Instead of…afterlife…" Netto cautiously worded his question. To him, it seemed that Rockman could leave him and this life at any moment, and that if he mentioned it too loudly then the word itself would blow his treasure away. Therefore, Netto did his best to not pronounce 'afterlife' clearly, while making it barely understandable. After all, if Rockman could choose life at will, then what precluded him from choosing another, ethereal life at will? "…did you really come back for me?"

"Yes, I did. I…heard your voice. You were crying, and I-"

"! Saito niisan! You really did! You came back for me!"

Netto dived into the bed with PET tightly bound to his bosom. The springs were excellent, and they bounced on the mattress a few times quite pleasantly. The laughter of the two filled the room.

"Saito niisan…you have no idea how much I want to hug you now…"

Netto set the PET at the level of his face. What a strange machine, he thought. What a miraculous machine, he thought. A box that carried the soul of Saito Hikari. A Mikoshi, the palanquin fit for gods. The holiest object.

"Netto kun! Me- me too…"

Netto saw the warm smile of Rockman. Oh, how entrancing were those green eyes curving in love and happiness! Oh, how duplicitous was his heart! It was not the first time he saw Rockman smiling towards him in such a manner, but simply by knowing the true identity of his netnavi, the smile carried more meaning to him. It invaded his heart, and he found some kind of tenderness filling every inch of his body, even up to his eyes. A little more, and the tenderness threatened to overflow through his lacrimal glands.

"Saito niisan,"

"Yes?"

In that great tenderness, Netto became a little brother. He was no longer strong. He was poured out. He desired his vulnerabilities to be touched by Saito.

"I was lonely without you."

"I was the same..."

"And I thought I was going to lose you as Rockman."

"I'm…sorry."

Rockman's eyes glistened in regret. The glistening ignited something inside Netto; it was both heart-wrenching and cathartic to watch, and the boy was struck with two opposing desires: to comfort Rockman and to prolong Rockman's pain. However, because comforting Rockman by wiping those tears with his hands was physically impossible, he naturally gravitated towards prolonging the suffering.

"And I was really scared." Netto spoke pitifully.

"Netto kun, I won't leave you again."

Was that a promise, a wish, or a request for forgiveness?

"Really?"

"Really."

Netto watched Rockman silently. Rockman felt as if he was getting absorbed by those brown eyes, and something began to stir inside him. What was it? Before he could analyze, the boy resumed.

"I know you won't. You were always here, always next to me. I know you will be with me... But what if the world takes you away from me? It did the first time. It almost did the second time. And I could not do anything."

"Netto kun…"

Rockman helplessly stared at him.

"So, I just came up with an idea… Why don't I get a new netnavi? Saito niisan, in this way you will be safe-"

"…Pardon?"

Readers, have you ever seen the shocked face of a pet that has just realized that it is abandoned?

"You will be with me, always, and I'll use the other netnavi to surf the web or do netbattles. Nothing will get to you, and I will never lose you again. Perfect!"

"You can't be serious!"

Rockman stepped back from the PET screen.

"I actually think this is a great idea, Saito niisan!" Netto was triumphant, like a Victorian gentleman captivated with an industrious idea in which nature was wonderfully covered in black soot of progress and laborers slept on a rope instead of beds (now infamously known as two-penny hangover).

"NO!" Rockman burst, eyes tightly closed, body tensed, arms straight down, hands clenched into fists. "Netto kun, you idiot! I am not sharing you with another netnavi!"

"It's not sharing!" Netto objected.

"It is!"

"Okay, okay, fine! Maybe! But I don't want you in any more danger!" Netto objected again, adamantly maintaining his position.

"Then you must be fine with me getting another operator, huh?!"

"Wh- what?" Netto was sure that the supposition was not the logical equivalent. At the same time, he could not help but picture that very postulated possibility. The image was powerfully summoned, and it hurt him greatly: Rockman, his navi, Saito niisan, his brother, being commanded and then manipulated by someone else! The imagination then evolved into a scene in which Rockman smiled to that new operator- "Wait, that's not-"

"You get another navi and I'll find another operator!" Rockman decisively declared. The certainty in his voice was no less brave than the defiance of Leonidas, the king of Sparta, against the ambassador of Xerxes, the king of kings, the king of the Persians and the Medes.

Netto gasped. He understood that Rockman was serious, even capable of making true of the threat. No matter how hard he tried, his shocked lungs did not remit one molecule of the inhaled air. He could not speak.

"Netto kun! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! You have no idea how happy I was to become part of your life! When I was in the human body, I couldn't do anything with you! Or anything for you! All I did was drag you down, and now I can finally do everything with you! Finally! I was really happy about everything, thankful for everything, and now you what? I'm not going to be a spectator again! Netto kun, if you do that—if you get another netnavi—then we are finished!"

"Wait, Saito niisan, hear me out-"

"And I've also made up my mind! Netto kun, no more calling me as 'Saito niisan'—call me 'Rockman!'"

"But, but…"

"No buts! If you are keep getting conscious about me, then you won't be able to use me properly as a netnavi! I don't want that! I don't want to be kicked out of your life! I don't…I won't…" Despite being the one inculpating, Rockman progressively sounded more desperate.

"Sai-" Netto hurriedly corrected himself. "Rockman, I'm sorry! Please forget about what I've said-"

"Hmph! We will talk once you finish your overdue summer homework! What, you thought I wouldn't know?"

So Netto was driven to his desk, like a dog beaten with a stick, tail tucked between its legs. The boy apologetically glanced at the navi from time to time, only to be defeated each time by Rockman's spartan expression. The first day of the reunion turned into a day of hard work. Well, readers, Netto had it coming…

While Netto was distracted by the assignments, Rockman found himself assaulted by thoughts of a preposterous possibility, and he considered it quite far-fetched, as the evidence for this conjecture was nothing more than the lingering scent of a shampoo infused with rosemary oil that he detected in the hairs of Netto in that cleansing dream, and that what he smelled was found out to be true in the real world as well. It was most likely a coincidence, but what if it wasn't? What if it was real, and what if in some dreams they were connected? Splendid; together in waking, together in dreaming. However, because of what had passed in that dream, Rockman had to consider the implications...

What if the cleansing kiss was real? Then it meant that he was purified. It meant that he was presentable. It meant that he was fit to be together with Netto. At the same time, he also had to face the immorality of the uncontainable excitement he felt during the act. He did not want to deal with it, so he considered the other possibility: what if the kiss was not real, which was, fortunately and unfortunately, more likely? Then it meant that he was still unclean. It meant that he was still unpresentable. It meant that he was not qualified to be together with Netto, who deserved only the best and the purest.

Rockman watched Netto hard at work, but his focus constantly drifted to the lips of the boy. He became convinced, based on the calculations using probabilities, that he was still unclean. He needed to be cleaned in real life also. But…how?