[Anyone wandering into the library would find this Otacon sitting at a desk and focusing on the familiar blueprints in front of him. He had hardly slept in days, as a working Otacon tended to do
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It's no problem. Whaever you need should plug right into the generator, and it's powered by those solar panels. After that, someone'll just need to check up on it from time to time to make sure it's still functioning-...
...oh. Um...Yeah. [Huh. This probably looked suspicious, didn't it?] Don't worry, I won't let anyone dangerous get their hands on it. And it's not like I'm planning on building anything.
[Otacon took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back in his chair and adjusting his glasses.]
My father was always working on one thing or another. After my mother died, it was just the two of us for a while. And if he was anything like I am now, then he probably dealt with it by working on something to distract himself. I mean, I d-don't resent him for it or anything, but I g-guess I was just sort of lonely.
He...eventually killed himself. [And it was my fault.] I was sixteen.
It's just th-that...all I ever really wanted was for him to notice me. To do something, anything that he could be proud of me for. If he ever fully realizes his only son's a failure...I don't know if I could live with one more thing to feel guilty over.
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Hey. I finished the generator,and I'll start planning for that communication device as soon as I'm finished with this.
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That's wonderful, Otacon. Thank you.
...
Is that REX?
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...oh. Um...Yeah. [Huh. This probably looked suspicious, didn't it?] Don't worry, I won't let anyone dangerous get their hands on it. And it's not like I'm planning on building anything.
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...so why make the plans if you don't plan to build it?
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Well...my father wanted to take a look at them. I met him here not too long ago.
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...hm, I see. He was a scientist too, wasn't he? I suppose he would be interested.
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...yeah, he was. An engineer, I think--don't really remember all that well.
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It's good that you've met here.
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Yeah, I...I guess it really is.
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I can trust you, right?
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My father was always working on one thing or another. After my mother died, it was just the two of us for a while. And if he was anything like I am now, then he probably dealt with it by working on something to distract himself. I mean, I d-don't resent him for it or anything, but I g-guess I was just sort of lonely.
He...eventually killed himself. [And it was my fault.] I was sixteen.
It's just th-that...all I ever really wanted was for him to notice me. To do something, anything that he could be proud of me for. If he ever fully realizes his only son's a failure...I don't know if I could live with one more thing to feel guilty over.
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