So when I began this, I was thinking this could take place anywhere before episode 50, but then I rewatched episode 27 (when Subaru and confronts War-rock and tells him to leave) and thought it really fit around that time. But since it's just reminisicng, you can be put it wherever you think fits.

By the way, I do not own Ryuusei no Rockman. Capcom does.

Secrets

It never had been a matter of not wanting to tell him. Okay, maybe at first such had been the case, but not now. In fact, now he wanted nothing more than to tell him. He wanted to scream it out loud and let the truth be heard. And he did not care who heard it as long as he did.

The problem was he couldn't tell him. No matter how much he yearned and long to tell him, he just could not. So many opportunities, but to each one he panicked. All that ever came out of his mouth, all he could muster, was "It is none of your concern" or "Forget it". He surely regretted each time. He regretted it now because, still, to this day, all that was known by the other party was "I know nothing" and "Never mind".

Poor kid. He deserved to know, and he deserved it more than anyone else. After all, he was that man's flesh and blood.

But more than that, he was, in a way, his flesh and blood. As much as he hated to admit it (and never would admit it because he was too proud) he was nothing here without him. He was, after all, his host and (as the child put it) partner. What he had done for him—what he was to him—was in no way countable or explainable. Somewhere in the span of time, (when he was unsure of) "friend" had begun to apply as well. And friends did not keep secrets.

That was why he wanted—needed—to tell him.

But still he could not.

He could not tell him of his nightmares every night. He could not tell him of his pain or his regret. He could not tell him that what he had done was necessary because, try as he might, he was not so sure himself. (Oh, how he hated to be unsure. Ones such as himself were always confident and sure. Yes, very sure.) He wished to this day that there had been another way.

He wanted to tell him, but he could not bring himself to tell him his deepest part. That he was raised to kill without a second thought. That he had the mysterious and world-shattering Andromeda key within him for his own design. That he did know what happened on the space station. That he had done something on that day in that place that could—and did—change everything.

He wanted to tell—really he did. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. The reasons were stupid (even he admitted that) but they were reasons that still prevented the truth from coming out. He was too aloof and too proud. He never relented and he never allowed anyone to affect him.

How ironic it was that because someone had affected him that he was not allow to tell. Because that day—that fateful day—he had allowed for his heart to begin to change.

It was still changing and friendship had not allowed him to turn back.

And so here he was, wanting to tell him but unable to. How strange: fear. For him, the proud warrior, it was a new and horrible feeling.

War-rock was afraid to hear the truth himself

And so he could not tell him. All he could do was whisper, "I'm sorry, Subaru. I'm sorry" every night.