Chapter Text
The world looked very small from the top of the flagpole.
Hailey Trent Mills dangles there like a terrified pinata, legs kicking, skirt bunched around her waist, and her underwear-light yellow with little duckies on them, because of course this was happening today was stretched to its absolute structural limit as it held her suspended like a pathetic, trembling banner.
“HELLO?” she squeaked, voice cracking. “Is anyone around? Anyone at all? Maybe a teacher? Lan? Mayl? I’ll even take Dex! I’ll take anything!”
No answer, The breezy morning air rustled the flags beneath her like they were gossiping about her.
She winced as the elastic dug tighter. Great. Absolutely fantastic. Bullies weren’t even necessary because gravity alone had decided to kick her butt today.
Hailey had climbed the flagpole because she thought she saw a stray kitten up there. It turned out to be a plastic bag. A plastic bag fluttered away and she slipped off and fell down…Only to be caught by her pants which some mean kids took advantage of and hooked her panties onto the hook for the flag and raised her up which is how she got into this situation in the first place.
She dangled for another few minutes, trying not to cry, humming nervously to distract herself. Maybe someone would show up. Maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe she’d die here. Her obituary would be humiliating…
LOCAL GIRL PERISHES FROM ATOMIC WEDGIE —- MOTHER SAYS SHE “WARNED HER ABOUT OUTDOORS.”
Eventually inevitably the duckie print fabric gave out with a tragic little “fwip!”
Hailey dropped.
“AAAA-OW!”
She hit the ground face-first, skidding on her glasses. Dirt filled her mouth. Her legs twitched.
She spat grass as she moaned in pain from the fall.
She pushed herself up, wincing. Her skirt was wrinkled, her dignity was dead, and she was absolutely sure she’d never live this down if anyone saw.
Something clattered nearby.
It was a PET.
A green one, Scuffed, dented, and half-covered in mud like someone had tossed it aside after rage-quitting a boss fight.
Hailey blinked. “Oh no. No no no no. I’m not touching that. Mother said PETs are a distraction, that they rot your brain, cause early onset moral decay and summon demons…”
The PET flickered weakly.
Curiosity overcame her fear.
“...Maybe just a little peek.”
She picked it up. The screen fuzzed, crackled and then—
A face appeared.
Wide visor, sharp helmet and a familiar silhouette. Almost like someone had recreated Lan’s NetNavi MegaMan.EXE from memory maybe after a concussion also.
The Navi jerked upright, gasping.
“W-Where… Where am I?” His voice was surprisingly soft though it sounded quite like MegaMan’s also. “Operator? Is that you? I… I can’t access my memory directory.”
Hailey yelped and nearly threw the PET. “OH MY GOD YOU TALKED-HI-SORRY-PLEASE DON’T BE A DEMON.”
The Navi stared.
“You seem…distressed.”
“I fell off a flagpole!” she blurted. “Because of a wedgie I was trying to find a bag I thought was a kitten and then some mean kids strung me up on the flagpole, then I found you and now I’m talking to a illegal mud PET! Today is A LOT!” She let out panicking quite a fair bit.
He blinked. Slowly.
“...I see.”
A pause.
A longer pause.
The Navi looked like he was processing the concept of being born from garbage and immediately hearing about wedgies.
Then he said, completely straight-faced.
“I believe I am named… ‘Quint.’”
“That sounds… cool?” Hailey said, voice climbing three octaves. “Is that a name you remember? Or is that like a default placeholder? Did your previous Operator name you? Are you actually a virus? Oh GOD are you a virus?”
Quint looked down. “I don’t know. My memories feel… carved out.”
He placed one hand over his chest. “But my systems… They respond to your voice.”
Hailey froze.
“W-wait. Respond how? Not like imprinting right? I’m not ready to be responsible for— for anything that isn’t a potted plant.”
“Your voice grants me stabilization.” Quint said simply. “Identity anchor protocols. Operator-link behavior. I think…I think I am yours now.”
Hailey’s heart did a frontflip
“M-mother is going to kill me.”
Quint tilted his head. “Should I be afraid of this ‘mother” entity? Is she powerful?”
“Yes.” Hailey said immediately, looking nervous.
Another crackle of the PET screen. Quint flinched, flickering at the edges.
“Oh-Oh no, are you okay?” Hailey said, holding the PET closer. “Don’t die on me! I just met you! I don’t know how to fix electronics!” She was panicking a bit.
“I’m…fine,” Quint said, though his voice was glitchy, like he was buffering mid-sentence. “I require energy. Updates. Repairs. But… I can still operate. And…”
His eyes shimmered underneath the visor–digital light brightening.
“I will protect you. That is what Navis do, correct?”
Hailey felt heat rise in her cheeks. “N-no one’s ever said that to me before…”
Quint nodded solemnly, completely oblivious to her spiraling emotional meltdown. “Then it is settled. You are my Operator. I will aid you in all tasks.”
“I don’t even know how to use a PET!” Hailey squeaked.
“Then we will learn together.”
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Then Hailey, princess of anxiety and victim of today’s atomic flagpole catastrophe, exhaled and whispered: “...Fine. Okay. But if my mom finds out I own a PET, we both die. She’ll delete you and ground me until the sun burns out.”
“I am prepared to face deletion.” Quint said heroically. “That fate would be honorable.”
“NO WHAT- DON’T SAY IT LIKE THAT!”
Quint blinked again. “Apologies. I am still calibrating. I think my personality matrix is…dramatic.”
“You don’t say…”
Hailey stood, brushing grass off her skirt. She clutched the PET to her chest like she could hide it with sheer willpower.
“Okay, Quint. First step of our new… partnership. We need to get out of here before someone asks why I’m walking funny.”
“Affirmative. Beginning mission: stealth escape.”
“You don’t need to call it a mission-”
“Mission: STEALTH ESCAPE.”
“It’s really not- Okay fine it’s a mission.”
Hailey sighed, cheeks still burning from the wedgie, exhaustion, embarrassment, and the bizarre warmth spreading in her chest because somehow somehow she just became a NetOp.
An anxious, disaster prone, mother-fearing one.
And Quint?
An amnesiac almost-MegaMan lookalike born from trash, loyal by sheer cosmic accident.
The worst possible beginning and yet, The best possible beginning.
As they left the empty schoolyard, the PET flickered again-almost like someone, somewhere, had deleted his data intentionally as he seemed to turn a shade of blue before turning back to green.
Hailey didn’t notice that part yet.