"Solitude would be ideal if you could pick the people to avoid."
-Karl Kraus
He was not afraid of Rockman.
He never had been, and he never would be. They, together, had done things that had been labeled impossible. They, together, had survived things that should have been fatal. They, together, had protected what they held dear with every ounce of strength that their bodies, digital or flesh, could muster. It was natural that they knew each other better than what could be considered 'normal'. By a stretch, they knew their other better than they knew themselves.
Therefore, knowing Rock's mindset better than he knew his own, he knew that he would never have a reason to be afraid of his partner. Ever. It just couldn't, and wouldn't, be done. Rockman was on a plane, a level, a stage, a pedestal which was safe from all forms of doubt. He was above distrust, above mystery, above secrets, above fear. He, and therefore any course of action that he would deem acceptable, was and had been constantly without malice, and always would be so.
Then again, he was forced to remind himself, this wasn't Rockman.
And, by a stretch, he doubted that this was reality. This place –figment of the imagination? Perhaps- within a world that, by means of scientific evidence, should not have existed. So, he wondered, in this place, did all those years –years? Plural? He made himself sound like an old man; really, what had it been? A mere handful of months…it couldn't have been more than fifteen…could it…no. Surely not…- …did all that time, did it count towards the actions in this world? Did it count toward the character of this navi…beast…synchronizer…being, before him? In the end, -because, he told himself, if he was wrong, this truly would be the end of him- had all those times come to matter?
He wished to believe so. True, he always had been –and would be, he liked to think- an optimist. And so, he was allowed to imagine that everything would work out fine in the end. Everything did seem to do so, for the most part at least. But then again, he'd had help before. Enzan and Blues. Laika and Searchman. Barrel-san and Colonel. Here, as brown eyes glanced around the yellow kaleidoscoped world, here he was alone. He was one human, with not even the comforting knowledge of where he was or what was happening. He didn't particularly like the word 'alone'.
He wanted to say that the blame for this state of being, this solitude, rested solely on Greigar and Falzer. He did, because they were the ones to do such things to Rock in the first place. But then, would he blame Trill for starting the whole business of luring the beasts? Would he blame Rockman for accepting it? Would he blame himself for refusing to let his navi go? –With wide brown eyes he had watched him scream. He'd tried, hadn't he? He'd tried to help…! He just couldn't…- No, he wouldn't. He would not fall into pity. No matter what changes had settled into his partner, he would not blame a soul.
But still. The topic breached within his mind, it was very hard to resist the urge to look. Just a peek? No. He shouldn't. Really, he shouldn't. Well, actually, he should. Perhaps it was just the matter of not wanting to? Yes, that was probably it, unfortunately. He didn't want to see this being before him. Somewhere, sometime, someone had once told him that when it came time to die, he should stand tall and face it. Somehow, it seemed that this was easier said than done.
No matter which features the creature before him shared with Rockman, the beast was still just that, a beast. No matter that both Rock and Trill slept within, the spirits of a howling wolf and a screeching falcon were the only visible part of this…this…he refused to go so far as to call it a monster –even though, he would admit to himself and no one but, that was the best word he could use when describing this-.
"Rockman…" he hadn't looked up, his gaze remaining trained on his feet. Once he'd stared his navi down and met those bloody crimson eyes, daring the madness that rested within to even try and win over the digital form it possessed; he'd also watched that lunacy take him up on the dare and nearly win. And once he'd watched on, knowing that he was powerless to prevent or halt the massacre taking place; he'd also known, but had been far from accepting, the fact that his voice would no longer reach the navi within the beasts. Once, somewhere around that time, he'd promised himself never to let it happen again. Granted, he'd failed that vow once, twice, three times, but he'd been so sure all of a sudden, once Iris had done whatever it was she did and…
It seemed that wasn't working anymore. Iris was not a miracle cure; she had only been delaying the problem. He should have seen that it would be impossible to completely delete the part of his navi that had meshed together with the cybeasts, he should have seen that it would be impossible to fully server the needs of Rock's ultimate program, -because hunger was a powerful master, and no much how faith he had in his partner, very little could stay in the way of an ultimate program's need for very long- he should have, could have, hadn't.
"I'm sorry" he would not look. He refused. The burning glare of the crimson eyes ate into him even now, meeting those eyes –despite however much it would make him seem heroic- was not something he could do. As he stood here, –alone, so damn alone. He was just a boy, wasn't he? Just a boy without allies, without friends, and most importantly, without Rock- he refused to let the being before him have the satisfaction of knowing that even he acknowledged his defeat. That much he refused to give.
It growled at him.
"I'm not apologizing to you!" he spat out, still managing to keep brown eyes trained on the orange of his shoes. He doubted the thing understood. He doubted it had allowed enough of Rockman to stay behind so as to understand human speech. Still, he wanted to get this off his chest…especially if he too was to end up lost in…that. "Why can't you just go away? Both of you!"
If only it was so easy; if only if only if only. Fists clenched at his side, toes curled within his shoes, eyebrows knit together, –hate this, hate it, hate hate hate…- he made a visible effort to avoid meeting his glare with that of its. No matter how mad, no matter how much hate…still, he refused to give it that satisfaction.
After all, if he did, what would Rockman think? More importantly, what would he think about this whole 'defeated' business? If possible, fingers curled tighter within their respective fists. Had they really come this far –Pharaohman, Gospel, Forte, Regal, Duo…Now merely names of the archives- just to suddenly fall to their knees at the feet of oversized animals? –He chose to ignore the fact that this was no matter an issue of uploading a program advance and blasting until there was nothing left. He chose to ignore that this was something from within. He chose to ignore that in the end, it would come down to a simple lack of will on his part- This…couldn't be right. Could it?
"Sorry?" the voice startled him enough to bring his head up in a flash. The single word resonated once, twice, within his own mind –his mind, the world around him, what was the difference? He doubted that there actually was one…- then died within the silence as it failed to elicit a proper response. Brown eyes widened slightly as they searched for something that wasn't there, only to fade slightly as the observation made its way to the brain; now he was left with nothing but the empty shell of navi to stare at. Ah, and had he mentioned the fact that it was looking back? Glaring more like. Already, his head began to droop back down towards his feet.
"What…doing…?" The voice picked itself back up again, only to drop out mid sentence and provide Netto with nothing more than a basic outline of what it had been asking. Lips parted slightly as their owner fought to ask for clarification, merely to fall back into a frown as the glare made his stomach drop dead down into itself.
"Stop it" he ordered simply. It didn't listen. He hadn't expected it to. Somehow, he didn't care. "Go away" he tried again. "Leave me alone" no, that wasn't quite it. Almost. But still…it wasn't quite "Leave us alone"
Ah, but he was alone, wasn't he? –His optimism was slipping, sinking below the horizon like the dying rays of a setting sun with no one to accompany it- No Enzan, no Meiru, no Laika, no Trill…no Rock. So very much alone, wasn't he?
"Alone?" the voice had returned. Was it his own? He was alone. It had to be his own. There was no one left to be another voice but that of his own mind. Was there? No…there was. There were the mas…
Vaguely, Netto began to notice that his feet weren't so solid anymore.
'I'm a ghost' he noted dully. 'Dully', that was a funny word it was. Huh, why didn't he use it more often? 'Or at least, I'm turning into one' somehow, he felt that this was supposed to make him panic just a tad bit more. Rock didn't like ghosts…did he?
"Netto-kun"
"Rockman" back and forth, forth and back; it was odd sight if he did say so himself. The closest he'd ever come to an out of body experience before was looking in a mirror. It was weird to see himself from the outside –was he really that short?- Although, he'd never seen himself, even in a mirror, fading away –a bit pale around the cheeks, that's all he was-
"Netto-kun" pressure on his hand, which one –forth and back, back and forth; so hard to tell…- he couldn't quite grasp. It pulled at him, tugged the wandering mind back to its rightful place –again, which one that was he didn't know- and demanded that he pay attention. –Though to what he had no idea-
Another jerk and brown eyes widened as they regained control over such functions. A third pull and he finally figured out which body was his own. A fourth kicked his mind for jumpstarting purposes. A fifth led him to observe the slightly translucent hand grasping his own.
"Alone?" the voice pressed again. His mouth still refused to properly form a sentence, but somewhere in the still-bouncing mind of his, a line of thought answered back with a quite definite 'Yes, I'm alone. Get over it'.
"Are you?" it inquired again. The blue hand squeezed itself against his own as it gradually became attached to an even bluer arm. "Silly Netto-kun" it admonished. Could he place that voice? Perhaps. Maybe. Possibly. The tone was familiar, the words were not.
"…"
"I thought…" by something that was a far cry from his own will, russet eyes were drawn up to meet those crimson ones once more. The same brown eyes attempted to turn away in the same instant, only to be stopped by a single tug at his hand. And funnily enough, his own hand gripped back. He hadn't particularly thought about it, but now that it had occurred, it seemed right somehow.
"…we were stronger" perhaps he was loosing a few marbles, -was this place not proof that he'd lost it anyway?- but still, he couldn't help but nod. He wanted to say that it had never been an issue, but then again, if it wasn't a problem, why was he relying on a body-less hand to hold him steady?
"So did I" the locked hands were swinging now. Back and forth to the beat of a rhythm long forgotten and forsaken to the playground. Hands once joined by melted ice-cream and sticky sweets fell together now with no purpose than to assure the other that somehow…in some form, they weren't quite alone.
Were they?
"But we are" it suddenly protested, the arm stopping mid-swing and halting his own limb with it. A navy torso faded into his line of vision with it, extending downwards to the tip of the legs and then upwards so that only the point of a pale scrap of skin could be seen. Still…it looked to be frowning. "We are strong…" it continued. "To…" Another word seemed content to hang on the tip of its tongue like a diver on the edge of a cliff, only to falter and bring the moment to silence with nothing more than a twitch of a muscle.
"Yeah" he conceded regardless. "We are" the tip of skin tilted upwards, prompting himself to do the same. –away from the eyes at last; away from the blood-colored eyes that wanted nothing more to devour him. He couldn't say he was sorry- skywards, or what he assumed to be so, although there was nothing more than a repeat of the floor. Was it the thought that counted?
"What happened?" vague; very vague. "To us" it suddenly clarified.
"I was alone" he blurted before there was a chance to even consider what those words meant. It didn't matter if they were true. Really, it didn't. Such things like that were not to be said, especially not to be heard. What had he been thinking? –Actually, was he even capable of thought? If he'd known what a paradox was, he would have labeled this as one-
"We were separated" it observed. Another squeeze of the hand –for reassurance of emotion or for existence he wasn't sure…- and suddenly the tip of skin burst into a face. To be specific, a mouth, –frowning slightly, but only in thought he knew- a nose, –something he'd never really paid attention to before- eyes, -green, yes. Green to represent data? Perhaps…- hair, and helmet.
He didn't realize he was hugging Rock until he felt the navi clutch back.
"But I followed you" he whispered, wishing that his voice would not reach the ears of the beasts where it could be mocked and devoured; but even that reasoning slowly faded. Because it was here, blue arms secured around an orange vest, –finally, a voice added in the back of his head- that he realized no, he wasn't alone. Not anymore at least. He wasn't sure how, –somehow, he doubted Rock knew either- but he wasn't alone. Never had been; Silly him. Silly Greigar. Silly Falzar.
"Why?" simple enough. He almost felt indignant at having to answer.
"We're strong together" complete.
And it was somewhere around that time that the embrace substituted itself for crossfusion and the beasts no longer stood a chance.
Pointless? Yes. OOC? Yes. Caring? Not quite. I love beast out anyway; a nice dose of insanity. Insane!Rock and Netto would actually go well together methinks. It's like Hisoka and Gon.
And about the kiddy bit with ice-cream…think Saito.
Note to all 'What Matters' readers: I'll be at the shore for a couple nights, and have already been at camp for a couple more. Chapter 10 currently has no words whatsoever. My apologies.