Chapter Text
It was the last day of elementary school, and Meiru didn’t hear a word of Mariko-sensei’s farewell to Class 6-A. She couldn’t look away from the empty desk next to her, her mind blank.
Over a week after the explosion, Roll’s urging had finally won out, and Meiru had returned to class only to find the top of the desk next to hers cleaned off and the inside emptied out of its contents. She had come in prepared to turn right back around; Mariko-sensei had told her not to worry about attendance for these last few weeks of the school year. But the closeness to the end of the year meant the desk would not be filled with a new student, so it made it possible for Meiru to play a game with herself. She was just waiting for Netto to get himself out of this latest spot of trouble, and once he finally showed she would yell at him for not keeping her in the loop.
Never mind that the investigators said the bombs had been simple, crude explosives, without any way for a Navi or other artificial life to control them. Never mind that Netto’s bloodstained bandanna had been found in the wreckage of the subway train. Never mind that the subway tunnels were dark and sprawling, and the search teams had turned up no signs of Netto or the two other missing victims. Never mind that they’d been down there with no source of food or water for over two weeks now.
Coming here and sitting next to that desk, waiting for it to be filled again, was the last hope Meiru had that this was all just a misunderstanding.
“It’s been a wonderful two years with you. Here’s hoping you all have a great time in junior high!”
Mariko-sensei’s farewell speech concluded, and Meiru’s hope ran away with the rest of the class. She turned to say something to Dekao behind her, but he was already gone.
Netto was really not coming back. And now, neither was she.
She couldn’t think, even as book after book disappeared from within the desk into her backpack, but that made it all right. It was all just a bad dream like this. She could continue to pack away all those silly ideas of what this was supposed to feel like, fistfuls of erasers and writing tools at a time, without a single tear.
When Meiru shouldered her backpack and looked up, the only people left in the room were Mariko-sensei, cleaning out her own desk; and Yaito, right next to her. “Sorry for keeping you so long, Yaito-chan,” she said, startled into a reflexive smile.
“It’s my choice,” Yaito said. She almost sounded insulted Meiru had apologized.
It should’ve been embarrassing to Meiru how long it was taking her to leave; even Mariko-sensei was standing up. But instead of walking to the door, she was heading toward them. Meiru internally braced herself. “Meiru-chan, Yaito-chan, I…” She swallowed. “I just want to tell you again how sorry I am that Netto-kun isn’t here. When I’d been assigned to see you all out of elementary school, I—“ If only she would just stop; all this was doing was making Meiru feel it again, just like she had when she had walked home alone from the arcade. Thinking Netto had stood her up, intending to give him a piece of her mind, only to discover the horrible truth. “I was looking forward to seeing you all graduate… together…”
Meiru wanted to run until she hit the city limits. “Thank you, Mariko-sensei,” seemed like the right thing to say. “I’m sure you want to head out. We won’t keep you any longer.”
“It’s not a problem. You know, I wouldn’t mind if we walked together for a little while,” Mariko-sensei said, wiping at her eyes.
It was the last thing Meiru wanted. “Sure,” Yaito said.
The classroom felt so empty, with the lights turned off for the summer. Netto’s desk sat there, sunlight falling on it. It felt like if she just closed her eyes, he would still be there when she opened them.
Surely this was a nightmare.
Yaito and Mariko-sensei started walking away, and Meiru forced herself to follow, one heavy leg in front of the other. Out the door, down the hallway, into the afternoon light. Belatedly, she realized she had barely processed her final walk out the doors of Akihara Elementary.
“So, where are you and your friends going for junior high?” Mariko-sensei asked.
The idea filled Meiru with dread. She and Netto had been supposed to continue on, together just like they always had been, and now she would be alone.
After a moment, Yaito explained, “I guess Dekao’s situation is a little up in the air, with Maha Ichiban and all. But it sounds like there’s a school in Jawaii that’ll let him do a hybrid schedule. I know Chisao wanted to stay here a month or so ago, but I guess we’ll see what happens.” It was fairly obvious what had changed between now and then. “And... It sounds like Meiru-chan and Tohru-kun are going to Akihara Middle School.”
“That’s lovely! And I’m sure you’re going along with them, right, Yaito-chan?”
Meiru couldn’t keep up her smile, and Yaito’s face fell, too. “My coming back to Akihara Elementary was just so I could see everybody again. Papa wants me to continue my education at boarding school in Kingland, so I’ll be heading back there after the summer.” Confidently, Yaito added, “I’ll call and tell you all about the latest trends, Meiru-chan!”
“Thanks,” Meiru said, with another reflexive smile.
“Just be sure to study as hard as you play, Yaito-chan!” advised Mariko-sensei with a much bigger smile. They stopped again; Meiru realized they were already to the branch in the road where they would go their separate ways. “Good luck, both of you.”
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Roll was certain it wasn’t good for her to let Meiru isolate herself like this, so something had to be done. As the Navi Ai-san had commissioned for the purpose of watching over her daughter, she had to take Meiru’s well-being into account first and foremost. But she didn’t even have a concept from a TV show to apply to something as unfathomably wrong as this, much less any of that eternally-lacking caretaking information she’d been programmed with. She’d let herself play the same game Meiru had been, because that was how it was supposed to be; things far more outlandish than this had happened before, and Netto and Rockman always came back. But it had been over two weeks, and school had ended, leaving Roll with the question of how long she should allow Meiru to mourn alone; if any amount of that was healthy at all.
If only Rockman were there for Roll to ask for advice. But he was gone, too. When she and Meiru had seen Hikari-hakase in the Ministry of Science, and more importantly the mess of PET components he was hunched over, Roll had needed to mute herself to hide her horrified scream from the already-hurting humans. She’d only gotten a glimpse of the tangle of parts before retreating back into the PET, but she could recall it perfectly even now; the damage to the memory module, the scores in the microprocessors, the deep cracks in the motherboard. A Navi could not survive this level of damage to the PET’s internal components. Rockman was gone; not even in some kind of heroic last stand, but in an attack he’d been caught in through sheer coincidence.
It was all so wrong that Hikari-hakase didn’t even seem able to comprehend it. He’d been searching through the tangle without pause even while Meiru had been visiting, obsessed with finding something salvageable in what was left of the PET. He hadn’t even seemed to care about the looming funeral, his clothes and face unkempt, consumed with the task of restoring Rockman one more time as though he were his flesh and blood instead of Netto. Perhaps that crazed hope was easier on his human mind than Roll’s certainty that the damage was too great.
That if anything was left of Rockman, it would not remember her.
So she hadn’t said anything; better to let Hikari-hakase have this task. It felt to Roll as though the grief would break him without it. Certainly, it was unbearable for her.
So many little misunderstandings and mistakes she hadn’t properly said sorry for, or said anything about at all. So many times she hadn’t paid enough attention and wound up getting in the way instead of helping. She and Meiru had been making so much progress toward being able to stand next to Rockman and Netto—mastering the Program Advance for themselves, acquiring chips that would better cover their weaknesses—but the chance to make things right was gone now.
Meiru seemed to feel it as acutely as Roll did. Now that they were inside the cavernous isolation of the Sakurai house, Meiru didn’t bother to turn the lights on or use one of those fake smiles. She laid on the couch in silence, curled into herself. No one was there to comfort her; no one ever was, other than Roll. And Roll had no idea what to say, consumed with grief herself. Perhaps she could dance to distract Meiru from the frustration and sadness, just like she had all those times when Meiru was eight and facing down another task that her parents had left for her without telling her how to do. But her limbs felt heavy, her processing time slowed. Nothing came to memory when she tried to think of the steps.
A notification ping ripped out from the PET’s speakers, and Roll nearly jumped out of her frame before regathering her wits to screen the email. Hikari-hakase had referred them to Hikari-san for information on the funeral, and that was who Roll had been in touch with until now, but this formal invitation was from a temple near the train station. It was too disconcerting.
“Open it,” Meiru told Roll. The holographic window kept trying to keep the text vertical, so Meiru had to push herself into a half-sitting position. Roll couldn’t keep the worry off her face as she watched her Operator read it in silence. When she was finished, Meiru slumped back down to lay on her side. “It’s in two days.”
Meiru had no dresses appropriate for the funeral; she would need to go out and buy one. Roll felt the seconds tick on, thanks to her PET’s internal clock. Meiru did not move. She laid motionless while Roll watched with guilt as tears welled in her tired eyes, falling down the sides of a weary face whose expression did not change, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.
Finally, Roll could stand it no longer, even though she still had no idea of what she could say to help; she materialized above Meiru’s head, kneeling. “Meiru-chan, I…”
Slowly, Meiru’s eyes focused on her Navi, even though Roll had gone silent. How could she say it would be okay, when they both knew Netto would never come back and that life would never be the same?
“Dresses,” Meiru finally mumbled. “Roll, I…” She took a shaky breath. Then, her voice stronger, she decided, “I’ll go out to the store and find a dress. Let’s go.”
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Rockman couldn’t feel his limbs.
He stared ahead without remembering how to see, then subconsciously tweaked a function call from his main program to the light-processing module within his frame a bit and regained the ability. He was in his creator’s main computer, but the lights were all out. Papa must have gone home. Another moment passed, and Rockman remembered that ‘Papa’ was Hikari Yuuichirou, his creator. He worked in the Ministry of Science, and this was his office’s isolated system for debugging and repairing Navis and other programs, so Rockman was in the Ministry of Science.
There seemed to be nothing else to remember. There was a light and a warmth, before where his memory logs actually started, but Rockman already knew not to tell Papa about that. He would try to erase it, but it would never work, stubbornly refusing to bend to reason. The memory was harmless, and Rockman didn’t feel it was affecting his processes any, but it seemed to cause Papa a disproportionate amount of worry. If it hadn’t been for Hikari Yuuichirou’s wife—Mama—persuading Papa otherwise, Rockman would not have been given to Netto at all. Something else he wasn’t supposed to have retained; Papa had explained just before powering him off for the last time that when Rockman booted up inside the PET it’d be a fresh start, alongside his new Operator…
“Netto-kun.”
All at once, the memories returned.
Netto was wonderful. Netto was frustrating. Netto was his Operator and best friend.
They had met almost three years ago, and had been fast friends since. Doing Netto’s homework was his own job, not Rockman's, and he'd do well to remember that when he slacked off and read manga instead. Rockman had the impression that Netto played a lot of soccer when he was younger. There were still a few participation trophies and soccer balls at the bottom of the closet. He'd never asked about it, though; at the moment, skating and Netbattling were Netto's passions, and he was a natural at both.
Together, Netto and Rockman had saved the world. They'd done incredible things and seen fearsome, amazing, impossible sights—Pharaohman, Gospel, Laserman, Duo, Beyondard, Grezar, Cache—and neither of them wanted it any other way. Netto had sat in the third subway car, near the front and close to the doors, because the trip wouldn't be long and he was in a hurry to meet Meiru at the arcade. The first explosion threw him forward, and he hit his head hard on the seat in front of him.
"No."
The second explosion had flung Rockman’s Link PET from its holster. Netto had been lying dazed on the ground when Rockman came to a stop—
“No!”
Rockman couldn’t remember anything else, he was so filled with horror. He didn’t want to remember anything else.
“Rockman!” The Navi physically staggered in fright as the lights came on. A man with rumpled clothes and unkempt stubble rushed into the room. After a moment, Rockman remembered that this was his Papa, Hikari Yuuichirou, and took in the pain in his eyes. “Rockman!”
“Netto-kun,” Rockman could only manage to say, “Netto-kun…”
“Rockman, I’m sorry,” Yuuichirou said, hanging his head. “Do you…?”
“I remember,” Rockman managed to say, reaching a hand out to the window that displayed his defeated Papa. “But I’m worried about you, too.”
Yuuichirou shook his head. His smile was too small and half-hearted to wipe any of the sadness from his eyes. "I'm alive, aren't I? That's good enough. Please, don't worry about me, not now." He opened a document, scrolling down a mountain of text. If he noticed how distraught Rockman remained, he didn't comment on it. "Your old PET is in pieces," he recited, though Rockman could see it perfectly well from the monitor. Papa had worked another miracle to get Rockman out from it. "I'm afraid the Beast Chips were lost in the accident, along with any other items... your Operator had on his person. I'll be transferring you into a regular PET once I've finished making sure you’re all in order.”
Rockman looked down at himself; physically, his frame appeared to be in perfect condition. "I still need work?"
"It's a wonder you're functioning properly. A lot of your base code had to be rewritten, and your memory files are still in disarray. They look like they may have been scrambled by the accident, but I'm reluctant to touch them." Rockman needed no explanation as to why; their code was the most complex, and even a single letter written wrong could change a Navi's memories of a person or situation drastically. Most Navi specialists, Meijin (but who was Meijin?) and Yuuichirou included, felt that rewriting a Navi's memory files without permission was a violation of that Navi's privacy and were loath to do it. Before, if this had happened, Netto would've been able to correct his father if he got something wrong. Now, it was a shot in the dark.
"I'll need to think about it," Rockman finally said. Yuuichirou nodded.
"I should at least test the speed and accuracy of your recollection functions. Ready?"
Rockman bit his lip. He looked fine, and he could feel himself slowly starting to fill in the tiny particulars of his coding that even a human programmer of Papa’s caliber couldn’t, but he still felt a disconnect from major parts of his physical functions. Was his recall in good enough shape to know what was right or wrong? Mustering his confidence, he said, "Yeah."
To the Navi's relief, Yuuichirou's first question had nothing to do with Netto. "When did Ford Motor Company start production of the Model T?"
"1908. 'Any customer can have a car painted any color that he wants so long as it is black.'"
Yuuichirou hadn't remembered the quote at first, but his face lit up in recognition after Rockman had said it. "Excellent! How many turns of the Krebs cycle occur per each glucose molecule?"
"Two."
"The quadratic formula?"
Rockman was relieved—so far, every fact and comprehension skill was coming to him as easily as ever. "Negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus four ac over two a,” he recited triumphantly.
In a dialogue box his Papa had set up next to Rockman, the scientist was watching how the memory retrieval functions were executing with palpably growing relief. "Everything that I installed into you on your initial boot is functioning excellently. I might give a couple of things a little nudge later, but there's nothing drastically wrong."
The quizzing had distracted both of them from what had happened; neither of them looked forward to what came next. "Now you have to test my added memories," Rockman said quietly, looking down. Even though his sight hovered near Yuuichirou's waist, he knew his Papa was dreading this as much as he was.
Yuuichirou took a deep breath to prepare himself and began, "What is my wife's name?"
"...Haruka." It wasn't the instant recollection of a well-customized Navi, and Rockman knew it. "I... I don't remember her maiden name."
"It's all right. I don't think anyone ever told you." Yuuichirou was frowning. "What's her specialty? My favorite?"
“Her…” It felt like it was just out of reach, but that was ridiculous. He knew this. “Her… spaghetti?” A moment later, Rockman quickly added, "Her meat spaghetti."
Yuuichirou's expression was grim as he asked, "Who were Nebula?"
He remembered fighting them in Cross Fusion, his mind and frame wrapped around and into Netto’s—never again. He swallowed and began, “A—a group of criminal Navis, mostly Darkloids, under the command of two humans. Oozono Yuriko and—and—“ A sick feeling welled up inside Rockman. "He didn’t—we destroyed him and Laserman, but he didn't die after all, just became a—he was a sort of phantom or ghost, I guess, in the network—he kidnapped you—Duo killed him—why can't I remember his name—“
"Rockman. Rockman! It's all right." It wasn't, and both of them knew it. Rockman knew a Netto-related question was coming next from the way Yuuichirou steeled himself. “Did Netto ever try to bake?”
"Once. He—“
—the first explosion threw him forward, and he hit his head hard on the seat in front of him and it looked like it hurt and Rockman wondered if Netto had cracked his head open, like an egg—they'd been trying to bake a cake using a package of cake mix that had been lying around, he'd gotten so many pieces of shell in the bowl that he spent the next five minutes fishing them out—
“No,” he cried out, desperate for it to stop, “no, no, no, no—“
—but it turned out pretty well for a first attempt, and Netto said he'd be happy if all he could bake were cakes—he was crumpled on the floor when the second detonated—
“No, no, no—!”
“Rockman!” All Rockman could see was the grief on his Papa’s face. “You don’t have to remember any further, Rockman, this was enough. It’s all right.”
“No, it’s n-not…”
“…I know, Rockman.” Yuuichirou slumped into the chair in front of the display.
Rockman immediately felt guilty. This was not helping his Papa—presumably his Operator, in the absence of anyone else—in the slightest. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Yuuichirou said. “It was a coincidence. It was just a coincidence…” He shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Rockman.”
“Yes, Papa,” Rockman said rather than protest. “Of course it isn’t…” Rockman clutched his core with his hands; there had to have been something he could’ve done, there always was, and now the worst had happened. It was a failing on his part, even if it was officially an accident. Dragging in a painful breath, he asked, “How’s… Haruka?”
“It’s all right. You can still call us ‘Papa’ and ‘Mama’,” Papa reassured him. “We’re still your family, Rockman. You’ll always have a place here with us.”
Silently, Rockman nodded his thanks.
"I haven't been able to see her in a while,” Papa explained next. “I thought that when you came back, we'd both go home for a few days. She's been so worried about you; she'll feel much better knowing you aren't gone, too. But tomorrow's the funeral—she'll be busy."
“Tomorrow?!”
“Yes. You’ve been asleep for a very long time. I’m just glad I was able to wake you up again.” Yuuichirou took out a Link PET and connected it. It was plain and white, lacking a Navi symbol or one of the faceplates Netto and his friends put on theirs. Rockman had to search the PET's command menu to relearn how to appear as a hologram. He hadn't recovered the knowledge, though he remembered appearing on Netto's shoulder many times.
Afraid to know the answer, Rockman asked, "How bad did it look?"
Yuuichirou sighed. "I'm hoping that your main problem is in connections—in most of your lapses, your internal programs searched for and found what was missing. That gave me a good idea of what to look for in most cases, but we'll have to go through and make sure I've got it all right. But in a few spots, there's just nothing I can find to correspond—functionally, the memory's completely gone. And there's a good chance that those missing and out-of-place lines of code could cause bugs.”
“I see,” Rockman managed to answer.
“But let’s worry about that another day, Rockman. You’re stable enough to go home, so we can show Mama you’re awake.” Yuuichirou’s smile seemed almost wistful. “She’ll be so relieved to see you.”