Title: Eidolons.
Author: Nemesi.
Fandom: (MMBN)
Genre: Romance. Angst. Tragedy.
Word Count: Chapter:4.865 Whole fic: 16.054.
Characters: Saito Hikari/Rockman,Hikari Netto, Hikari Yuuichiro, Blues, Ijiuin Enzan. Others mentioned.
Rating: PG-13.
Disclaimer: , its characters, places and themes belong to Capcom, Shogakukan, ShoPro, TV Tokio, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: AU. Shounen-ai.
A/N: I've been plagued by this idea for a while now. And I've fallen rather hard for this AU.
Summary: What if despite his heart disease Saito had not died and be turned into Rockman? Would he still have fallen in love with Blues, and Blues with him, even if one was a human, and the other a Navi…?
* * * * *
A coded program:
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0 1 1 1 0 0 1 0 1 1 1 0 0 1 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 11 0 0 0 11 0 0 1 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 1 0 0 1 0 1
* * * * *
Barelya week later, Saito's cardiologist signed all the necessary papers to dismiss him from the hospital.
In the current state of things, doctors could do nothing for Saito but provide occasional painkillers and monitor his condition. Saito's parents could do the same home, and Gokuraku-hakase was of the mind that the cure administered by a loving hand was often more effective than that of a stranger, however qualified in the medical field.
And so it was that Saito left the Hospital; but he didn't leave the bed. The day of the storm his heart had sustained more damage that they'd previously thought: now even the smallest action left Saito gasping for breath, eyes blurry, feeling rivulets of sweat running down his back and an icy blade pierced through in his chest.
In front of his friends and relatives – Netto especially – Saito would put up a cheerful façade, smiling that sweet polite smile of his whom everyone loved, laughing at the right times and pouting playfully when he was expected to.
But at night he dreamt. And in his dreams he cried and pleaded and bled, but Blues would not answer his calls, not once, not ever, and Saito would let himself sink and drown and liquefy in the oily darkness that surrounded him and wake up shivering, the Navi's name like a prayer on the tip of his tongue.
It is doubtful whether Blues's presence could've assuaged Saito's pain, given his condition. But love works in mysterious ways, and might prevail where all else fails.
Well aware of such thing, Yuuichiro tried more than once to invite Enzan over, or have Blues sent to his house with an excuse or the other. But Enzan was busy with projects of his own, and wouldn't send Blues anywhere without him.
"I must make it work", he'd mumble as a means of explanation. "The PET must be completed". And then turned back to his papers, leaving Yuuichiro to sigh and cut the video link from his end.
A month came a went in this fashion, then another.
As Saito's condition worsened, Yuuichiro threw himself blindly in his research, looking for a closure to his project as franticly as Saito looked for Blues in his nightmares.
New, more powerful relays were designed for the Dimensional Area; the required components were purchased from all four corners of the world. Meanwhile, the Prototype Advanced PET was put aside by Shigure and Enzan. An handful of Test Types was produced, and Navis other than Blues were summoned to Sci-lab to test them. The project proceeded speedily, and plans for the Production Model, the one that would hit the market, were well underway. The day when Navis could materialize in the Real World at will was almost at hand.
Saito grew weaker, thinner. There were deep dark circles under his over-bright eyes, and a glowing pallor had settled upon his cheeks. At times, melancholy set about him like a shroud, and his laughter sounded forced, a faded echo of the joyous tinkle it used to be.
Netto decided to spend the nights with him in his bed, mostly because of the nightmares: they'd been plaguing Saito for weeks on end, and the strain they induced was dangerous to his heart. Netto could do nothing more than soothe Saito before the trashing got too bad, and dab away the sweat from his forehead; but his presence seemed to help, however little. And so the twins took to curl up together like kittens when it was time for sleep, holding each other through the darkness.
In his dreams, Saito slipped noiselessly in the data-encrusted void from his childhood, got closer and closer to the once-far horizon. The blue ghostly shape that awaited him there became clearer by the day, until Saito recognized it was a reflection of himself he was seeing: a glowing thing of blue light that flared across a glossy mirror.
As for the flashes of red and silver that he saw further ahead, they were part of Blues, they were Blues, had to be: because what little he remembered from the night of the storm – Blues's arms closed about him, the hand cupping his face, silver hair sliding feather-like against his cheek – looked and felt the same as the nebulous colours on the horizon.
Those rare times he had the strength to, Saito would prop himself next to the window; and as his hands moved, alive with their own purpose, on his sketchbook or canvas, he'd wonder idly if the dream that had plagued him since childhood was a prophecy of sorts.
Wasn't his life a void alit with small crusts of gold, smalls crumbles of happiness? And didn't it converge towards one single thing, an unreal love made of red and silver that beckoned to him from beyond his reach?
There weren't tears in his eyes when he thought like so, because his sadness went beyond the physical; had he been a singer, he would've sung his sorrow; had he been a composer, he would've turned it into music.
As an artist, he put it down with pencil and crayons, then carefully crumpled the paper until it was smaller than his fist, and threw it away.
By the end of the third month, Yuuichiro was barely ever home. Saito didn't begrudge his absence. Instead, he wordlessly prayed for his success, prayed that his father may complete the DA and bring Blues to him, so that he could die knowing what it felt like to be in the arms of the one he loved.
Ijiuin Enzan had turned into the resident ghost or curse, his presence something that could always be felt, even though he was never there. As for Blues, even Netto had learnt better than to say his name when Saito could hear it.
In time, Saito gave up painting, gave up sketching, gave up reading, in this order. When using brush and canvas before the window had become too much of a strain, he'd turned to ball pen and notebook, which he could use propped up against the cushions in bed. And when even that careful exercise had become too tiring, he'd picked up his books – mostly those he'd printed following Blues's advice — and took to reading the day away.
Now he did nothing but sleep. Once or twice he thought he heard Blues talk softly to him during his naps, but when he woke, he didn't dare ask if the Navi had linked himself to his laptop, fearing a positive answer as much as a denial.
He avoided mirrors by now, but he knew he looked threadbare: his stomach didn't take well to solid food, and even water had started to upset it, unless it was lukewarm. Saito accepted graciously to be attached to an IV, but his ribs started to peek out nonetheless. He suspected that painkillers had been added to the nutrient fluid, because the icy lump in his chest seemed to thaw a little, and his heart-crisis decreased.
In the realm of his dreams, his hand was now close enough for the palm to be reflected on the surface of the mirror, with each line as defined as a brush-stroke. Another day or two, a week at most, and his fingertips would touch their own reflection.
What then?, Saito wondered. What then?
During that time, Enzan gave a phone call. Sent Netto a package with no card attached. It contained a blue Advanced PET that wasn't flung out of the window only due to Saito's gentle insistence. One late spring Saturday, Yuuichiro came home, clung to Haruka, and whispered: "I'm almost done," over and over.
It was the eve of their sons' birthday.
The next day dawned cold and bleak. A blanket of grey clouds hung low in the sky, effectively hiding every trace of blue. Mist rose in swirling plumes from the ground, like the steady breath of a sleeping beast. An icy drizzle began at sunrise and kept falling, falling, noiseless and merciless, like a plague. The water seemed to smudge the contours of every thing it touched, washing away all colours and blending them into an opaque, lifeless grey. There was no one braving the mist; no shadow and no light sailed across the cold streets.
In his bed, Saito opened his eyes and felt, for the first time in weeks, neither cold nor weak, not fatigued nor flimsy, but whole. He'd touched the mirror, the previous night in his dreams. And Blues had smiled at him from afar and reached out, a silent invitation to join him in the shadows beyond the horizon.
Saito smiled, that huge, brilliant smile of his that could enslave hearts and melt snow. He'd never felt better – not once in his short, tortured life – and wished he could paint the scene from his last dream.
He heard the front door slam open, and his father's footsteps pounding upstairs. He was calling Saito's name and crying out, joyfully, that his work was done, that PET and DA were complete, and they did give Navis a real body, made them concrete, with no limits of sorts; made them as good as humans, better than humans, capable to feel and do whatever humans could, and Saito had only one second to mourn the irony of fate, that he had to go just when Blues could finally come to him, and then his heart stopped beating, and wouldn't start anew.
* * * * *
...
…
…
…
…
…everything…
…
…
…
…everything was…
…
…
…black…
…
…black and… soundless…
…and then… his body awoke to sensations, like a flower budding slowly in the morning light.
First came the steady warmth enveloping him; then he became aware of a gentle pressure skimming across his cheek, fingers brushing his eyelids, his lips – that parted into a sigh at the touch – and the line of his chin. There came a flash of silver beyond his lowered lashes, and then the barely-there weight of silk coiling against his collarbone, cool and gentle like lapping water.
Saito released a long breath, nuzzled in the hand cupping his face, a sleepy gesture, loving and endearing at once. His eyelids felt like lead, and when he commanded them up, his vision was blurry, out-of-focus like those cameras of old that took pictures upside down.
For a moment, all he saw was a thread of frosty silver hanging in front of a sea of red, and he caught the flash of something black but shiny like onyx. A warm breath was exhaled against the side of his face, and at its heels came a voice heavy with hope and relief, a voice he hadn't heard in too long, a voice that said one word, one simple word: "Saito," and suddenly his eyes were huge, and the colours had resolved themselves into Blues's shape, his armour, his visor, his hair, Blues, his Blues, who was cradling Saito very gently against his chest, stroking his cheek like something precious.
Tremulously, Saito reached up, his throat too tight for him to say a word. His fingertips brushed across Blues's cheek, carefully; and when the Navi didn't disappear at the touch, they settled against the smooth curve with a sort of relieved reverence. Slowly, they traced the curve of Blues's mouth, trailed down his jaw and the side of his throat.
His skin was warm, unlike the cool silk of Saito's imagination; his lips smooth and soft, and his breath a caress of moist fire. His hair felt like water or silk, just like Saito had known it would. And when he slipped the helmet up and over Blues's head, a cascade of silver spilled over them, curtaining them.
Perfect eyes were raised to Saito's own, haunted but hope-filled, swirling like pools of heated mercury; and then Blues was leaning in until their foreheads were touching.A faint scent lingered about his skin: something like storm and sea and spices, which made him all the more solid, all the more real. Saito drank of it in deep gulps, like he though he never could, nose and mouth brushing against Blues's skin, eyelashes fluttering low as he let his fingers acquaint themselves with a face that he knew from his every dream.
This was madness, he knew. Madness. They were as banned from touching as moon and sun, their love as forbidden by the very laws of the universe. How could they be touching like this, breathing of each other, entwined like two halves of a whole?
A shaky sigh passed between their parted lips, set a vibration that coursed through both their bodies. Saito went still, arched taut against Blues for a long breathless moment, not daring to hope, not daring to believe.
And then he was surging, suddenly and with desperate elation, cupping the back of Blues's neck, finding the Navi's mouth with his own and immersing his tongue inside, urgently, knowing he had no time to waste, had no time at all, not with that disease of his.
Blues's arms tightened immediately around him, pressing their chests together as their kiss mounted, lengthened, deepened, something that was part dance and part fight, relieved and hungry and intense, that was the word: intense, like all things long-dreamed tend to be.
When they gasped and pulled apart, it was only to push their foreheads together, and Saito was laughing and crying at once, and there was a smile on Blues's face, and no visor to hide the gleam in his eyes.
"Buruusu… Buruusu!" he was touching the red Navi everywhere, his hands frantic and quick and needy as they clung to each other.
Blues soothed him with his lips, brushing them against the side of his temple, the wet arch of his cheekbone and the bridge of his nose, not daring to move his arms from around Saito as though the boy in his grasp would crumble or vanish if he did.
Saito drew back as much as he had to tilt his face into Blues's caress, and their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, mouths open and totally still as they breathed each other's breath.
At last, Blues drew back once more, trailing eyes and fingers across Saito's face in pure wonder. The green of the boy's eyes was liquid with tears, his cheeks flushed, smiling lips moist and glossy pink. He fit into Blues's arms as though he'd been made to be there, cradled against his chest forever more.
Saito smiled up at Blues, feeling just as awed. He tilted head and shoulder together in that adorable way of his, brushing his cheek over the palm of Blues's hand.
"Am I warm this time?"
Blues smiled, nodded.
"And soft," he said huskily. "I knew you'd be."
"Buruusu…"
Saito trailed off, lunged again, initiating their third kiss, the most desperate one so far. He had no experience with lovers kisses, but he wouldn't waste a second with coyness or shy fumbling or any self-conscious worry, not when darkness might reclaim him at any moment.
His heart was bound to go mad with pleasure much too soon, leaping and lurching; his heart that had already stopped once too many, his heart that usually started galloping even before Saito was consciously aware of Blues's presence, his heart that stood quiet and still and silent in his chest, his heart… his… heart?
Saito recoiled quickly, pressed a hand over his heart, gasping in surprise when he felt no beat, no pulse of sorts. With wide eyes he searched Blues's face, not scared as much as wondering.
Blues smiled at him, gently. Then took Saito's hand in his own and put it on the round ridge that now stood in the middle of the boy's chest.
Saito hadn't noticed it before; it was an almost exact replica of Blues's Navi Crest in shape and position, the only difference being the symbol inside: a schematic black arrow on a red field, instead than a Tao cut in two by a streak of lightning.
"Here," Blues offered. "Can you feel it?"
And indeed he could: a small, quivering pulse, almost a vibration, steady and gentle like the purring of electricity.
Saito looked down at himself, suddenly aware that he was clad in the blue and bluer garments from his dream, the same he wore in the paintings he used to make of himself and Blues when he still strong enough.
He surveyed their surroundings next; and decided that he might be in the place of his dreams.
It was daylight instead of night for once, and in the soft light he could see that there wasn't a nebulous void around him, but a definite, familiar space. The sky above them shifted colours like flowing water, and was sprinkled with a fine golden dust. Craggy formations reared up from all sides, their fantastic shapes reflecting the light in opalescent hues. The ground was a marvel of ice or glass: smooth and glossy, not cold, but not warm either.
"The… Cyberworld?" he breathed out. And when Blues nodded mutely, he asked: "Are we… is this a DA, Buruusu?"
Blues's smile turned rueful.
"No."
"Then how...?"
The red Navi briefly dipped his head; then he stood, tugging Saito with him by the hand.
"Come."
It took him but an exercise of will to open up a window above them, and they stood waiting for the call to be answered. When the signal started to clear Saito glanced briefly at Blues – eyes following the line of his profile, from the noble forehead to the supple mouth – then back to the window.
And the surprise almost took his breath away.
"…Papa?"
Yuuichiro looked worn out with lack of sleep, his hair tousled, a shadow of stubble on his chin. But when he heard Saito, a smile broke across his face, dazzling to look at.
"Ehy there, sleepyhead."
A crash and a cry followed his whispered statement, and then Netto was pushing his father aside, his face filling the window from corner to corner.
"He's awake?" Then, seeing Saito: "Rockman!! I knew you'd make it, I just knew it! Something Papa invented could not not work, but since it took you so long to wake up he started to lose hope, but I kept telling him not to, 'cuz his ideas always work, and you are a rock, and rocks can withstand anything and - ehy Blues! Didn't know you were so handsome under that thing."
Blues threw a glance at his discarded helmet, as though he hadn't realized it was missing until he saw it on the ground. Saito blinked, head reeling.
"Wait, wait. What happened?"
"You died." Enzan, ever the master of tact, slipping up behind Netto and pulling him back by the collar, so that something else was visible from the Cyberworld other than the giant close-up of his face. "And Hikari-Hakase brought you back."
"In… in the Cyberworld?"
"You were beyond the help of normal medical procedures," Enzan offered, in a tone that somehow made the impossible more than acceptable. "So other routes had to be tried."
Saito blinked, dumbfounded, then turned towards his father with something like understanding in his eyes.
"You applied a procedure inverse to that of the DA. Instead than bringing a Navi to the real world, you sent a human to the Cyberworld."
Yuuichiro acquiesced silently.
"So this is what you were working on the last months of my… – those last months." Saito amended, not wanting to breach the subject of his own demise. "Reversing the DA's function."
Yuuichiro licked his lips, hesitating a moment before responding.
"I've been working on this since your first major heart attack, Saito," he revealed. "Our check-ups were just an excuse for me to gather data about yourself." Taking off his glasses, Yuuichiro used thumb and forefinger to rub the bridge of his nose. "It took me more years than I thought possible, but I finally managed to graft your DNA and soul to a digital body. Just in time," he added, pushing his glasses back into place. "That was the only way I could think of not to lose you to death. Saito, I… I hope you can forgive me, but… you're a Navi, now."
"…a Navi…" Saito looked down at his hands in wonder. "All along you were looking for a way to send me here…" He raised his eyes to meet his father's gaze, smiling tremulously. "I thought you were striving to finish the DA before I was gone, so that Blues could hold me at least once…"
"…so that Blues could hold you?" Netto echoed in the background, only to be silenced by Enzan.
"The DA was a work of cowardice on my behalf," Yuuichiro corrected gently. "I'm not strong enough to let my child go. Not yet. With the DA I wanted to bring you back to the real world to us, however shortly. I hoped that allowing us some additional time together would ease your passing. But," he smiled again, and his eyes regained that spark of life that had gotten lost since Saito's demise. "It looks like Blues is incentive enough for you to embrace this change."
Netto wrestled out of Enzan's clutches long enough pipe a small, confused: "incentive?", before Enzan caught him and clamped a hand against his mouth a second time.
Saito was surprised he could still blush in this new form of his. Actually, the digital body seemed even more inclined to flush than his flesh-and-bone one had been. Gotta love technology.
"Is that why you weren't against us?" he asked.
"….us?" queried Netto, from beneath Enzan's fingers.
Yuuichiro gave a nod.
"Mostly, yes. I knew you'd need someone to guide you through your new life. And who better than a boyfriend for the task?"
Saito blushed darker. He chanced a glance at Blues out of the corner of his eye, and was relieved to see that his only reaction to the 'b' word had been to smile. Netto's own reaction was a bit more theatrical: he went still in Enzan's clutches, mouth dropping open, eyes growing to thrice their normal size.
Enzan rolled his eyes.
"Well, this is warm and fuzzy and all, but can we move onto something more practical? We should run a quick diagnostic of Rock's systems, to make sure everything's working fine."
Netto blinked out of his daze, and wormed free of his captor.
"Enzan was worried," he piped in helpfully. "Not that he looks like it. But that Blue PET he sent me it's meant to be your new home, Rock-nii. It works like a remote, so wherever we are we can create a small DA and have you come out in real world."
"Oh?" Saito turned towards Enzan, and there went the heartthrob smile again.
"Hey," Enzan shrugged, obviously unaffected. "You've told me many times I could try focusing on those close to me in-between a world-saving mission and the other. I just took your advice, nothing more."
He flicked his hair out of his forehead, the picture of sheer coolness incarnate. Beside him, Netto released a bubble of delighter laughter.
"Yeah, right. Says the one who threw the mother of all prissy fits and ditched I dunno how many meetings to come watch over Rock-nii with Blues."
Enzan glared at him.
"…'prissy fit'? Why, thank you Netto. That's going to make wonders for my image."
"Anytime." He turned towards Saito with an air of conspiracy about him. "He worked real hard to help Papa wake you up. I think he felt pretty guilty, or something."
Saito attempted a smile, but shrank a little in himself as his mind went back to why Enzan might have felt guilty. Sensing his discomfort, Blues gave his hand a squeeze, tugging him closer to his side.
Enzan's eyes flickered over them, then turned resolutely away.
"Before you say anything, I must warn you that Blues is mine during working hours: Net-Saviour duties have top priority over anything else. Alternate weekends are also not-negotiable," he warned, in what had to be the most oddly phrased blessing known to mankind (but still managed to match Enzan's style perfectly).
"And now that the pleasantries are over with, let's run some tests on your mainframe. It'd be a shame to lose you to a bug, after all that hard work." He grabbed Netto in the same fashion Blues had grabbed Saito, and hauled him out of sight.
Yuuichiro followed them; as he went, he trailed a gentle finger down his laptop monitor, knowing that Saito couldn't feel the pressure against the curve of his cheek, but hoping he'd understand.
Saito watched them go, his family behind the looking glass, touching his cheek as though wanting to impress his father's caress there. Realization settled in the pit of his stomach, not a weight but a warmness, that spread slowly through his body. On his face, joy and love and grief mingled in equal amounts.
Slave to fear and pain since the tender days of his babyhood, Saito Hikari had finally succumbed to the claim that Death had over him. He had been stripped of his humanity as well as his life, and was no more. But a blue Navi had come in his place, a Navi who'd been granted his dream and his love, and an endless youth to take pleasure in both.
Saito – no, it was Rockman now, wasn't it? – Rockman turned, regarding Blues's eyes for a long moment. Carefully, he transferred his fingers from his cheek to Blues's own, in a gesture that had more of the rite, and was as scared as it was tender.
"You're here…" he whispered breathily.
Blues smiled down at him, manoeuvred them so that he could slip an arm around Rock's waist and draw him close without releasing his hand.
"I am."
"I'm not dreaming?"
"Not unless we both are."
"We're together."
He stroked Blues's mouth with his thumb, shuddering when it was kissed gently.
"Yes."
"…and… and I'm not…"
"… ever going to leave again," Blues told him as he faltered. "Or to hurt again."
Rock took a moment to swallow the sudden lump of emotion in his throat.
"And… I'm yours?" he asked hopefully.
Mercury eyes looked down at him, in him, as they swept away his fears.
"For as long as you want me."
* * * * *
A PET screen:
Two figures entwined together, dark against the blinding blue light, like characters from a shadow play.
Shimmering data falling across the screen, brushing their cheeks, like a summer shower.
The quiet, careful touches of lips and hands, like the uncovering of a secret, like a rite.
The soft sighing sound of fluttering lashes and breathy kisses, whispered laughter and endearments.
The flash of a smile, that finds its twin and mirror in the opposite shape.
A happy ending.
~*~おわり~*~
And so… the tale of Saito and Blues has come to its end. It saddens me to let them go, because I've grown very, very fond of them. This ficverse is among my personal favourites, and it provided me many a plot-bunny: some are funny (like the scene mentioned where Netto is teased about his crush on Enzan), some are tender, some are angsty, some are… rather naughty, to be honest. Because you have to remember: Saito is a teen, and as such he is bound to have fantasies. (and act upon them?)
I might be thinking too far ahead of myself here, but… I must confess I have half an idea for a sequel. A short story, dealing with a peculiar trouble that brews in their Paradise… and that hopefully contemplates a medium-high rated, limey if not lemony, scene.
Am I thinking too far ahead? Or would anyone else be interested?