i n [B] o x . // acata.

[abandonware]

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[extirpator]

No way.

[ "I don't get sick." ]

Are you saying this because I ate the dirt?

[abandonware]

No.

[.......Maybe........]

You don't sound right.

[extirpator]

...

My sister had the Black Scrawl, and so did my mother. My mother passed away, and I spent almost everyday of my life taking care of my sister—

But not once did I catch it.

[ a pause. ]

I think whatever this is...it could hurt a lot of us. You have people here you care about, don't you? Watch over them. I'll help you.

[abandonware]

[She absorbs this information in silence. Some sort of illness that killed plants and was similar to whatever Nier had experienced in his village. Something that killed.

Covering her communication watch, she asks Pod what "Black Scrawl" is. There's nothing in its database, but it does have some basic information on the flu. It historically made humans experience a rise in temperature, loss of appetite, exhaustion and soreness. If a human was feeble, or too young or too old, the flu could get worse.

She goes over the people she knows here. 9S is her primary concern, as well as the humans. Nier himself, that teleporting kid, the other boy with the fluffy hair — 9S' friend, Akira. The girl who drew eyes, and that moose-girl? Jinba, was what she called herself. Konoha.

She hasn't seen the girl with the dog in a while. Even so.

A2 herself doesn't feel sick. She's tired, true, from their month long excursion. But not sick. The logic virus had never affected the plant life. According to Pod, the "flu" didn't do that either.

After a while, she responds to Nier:]

Stop concerning yourself with what I do.

[...]

Go rest, or whatever.

[extirpator]

No.

[ he says it bluntly. ]

I care about you.

1/2

[abandonware]

[ALARM NOISES]

What?

2/2

[abandonware]

[A2, who is unaccustomed to responding to anything, scrambles for a response.

...She doesn't even know why she's scrambling for anything, or why his response throws her off so much. I care about you, like it was so simple to say, or to believe.]

You —

You don't know anything about me.

[It's the only thing she can think of.]

[extirpator]

I don't have to.

[ Conviction, the tree says. ]

Your life matters to me. That's all I need to know.

[abandonware]

[She hates this. Somehow this is even worse than the last time he'd had some impromptu heart-to-heart with her. If she were aware enough of her own emotional state, she'd be flustered. As it is, she's just caught off guard.]

...

Why did this become about me all of a sudden? You're the dumbass that's sick.

[extirpator]

[ and cue a cough. ]

I think it's just the lightning. Ah, I got struck a few times.

[ there's a pause. and then, as though he's smiling just a little— ]

You don't need to worry about me. I'll be fine. You should be using this time to rest. Maybe we can even have a picnic.

[abandonware]

You got struck? What the hell is wrong with you?

[Her own run-in with the electrical current had been awful enough. Didn't humans die if they did stupid things, like get hit by lightning (multiple times, apparently??) and refuse to rest when they were sick?

Now he's coughing, too. For someone who was so concerned about her own (worthless) existence, he didn't seem to care at all about his own. What was that he'd said? I don't belong anywhere.

...

She sighs.]

I don't know what a picnic is. Go to sleep.

[extirpator]

I wanted to protect someone. I would have done the same for you.

[ he coughs again, but promptly swallows it down before it regresses into a fit. ]

A picnic is when you have lunch outside, on top the grass. Usually, you put the food in a basket and sit down on a tarp. The nature here is nice...it'd make for a good view.

[ it's a rarity, but a small and soft laugh escapes him. ]

You can have your first one here.

[abandonware]

You can't protect anyone if you're dead.

[Said in the most "you're an idiot" tone of voice in history. She thinks of bursting his bubble by pointing out that she doesn't need to eat, nor does she have any desire to, but she's beginning to realize he'll stubbornly persist anyway. He'll say something stupid, like "you can still sit outside and enjoy nature," as if she's ever enjoyed anything before in her tragically small life.

He's so annoying. She doesn't know why she's putting up with this.]

If I do your stupid "picnic," will you sleep?

[extirpator]

I can't die.

And even if I could...it wouldn't matter to me.

[ he says it like he's so certain. like he knows it with every fiber of his being.

he doesn't exist. he is not living, nor is he dead. he is suspended in time, but freer than he has ever been.

he has already fulfilled his purpose. there is nothing to concern himself with beyond this point. ]

You have to tell me what food you're interested in first. I might make you taste test.

[abandonware]

[Goddammit. Thwarted again.]

......

I don't eat.

[He can't die? Everything could die.]

[extirpator]

You don't eat. But you can.

It might be fun.

[abandonware]

I don't need to eat. I'm an android.

[Eating was weird.]

[extirpator]

You should think less about the things you need to do and more about the things you want to do. That matters too.

[ a selfish mantra, he is aware. living for yourself in a world that wants you dead is necessary at times.

and this woman is a good person. he felt that deep within his heart. ]

I'm making soup. Try some, please?

[abandonware]

[She is quiet for a long time, after that. She has never done anything she "wanted" to do. She doesn't even have the capacity for those sorts of desires, she's sure — has never even thought about having wants.

It's selfish.

She doesn't even deserve to be alive, let alone to want anything.]

...I'll try it if you rest. That's the only way I'm agreeing.

[extirpator]

...

[ the prospect of him resting is so futile, he thinks. it doesn't matter if he lives or dies. it doesn't matter if he suffers. when he sleeps, he dreams of the world he's lost. when he sleeps, he sees the face of each and every loved one who has sacrificed their life for his sake, and the afterlife he will never journey to.

he hates sleeping. but if this is what it takes for her to indulge in her humanity— ]

Fine. I promise.

[ another silence. this must be difficult for her. he knows it is. ]

...Thank you.

I'm glad I got to meet you.

[ it must be odd to hear.

but it's a thought he's had one too many times too late. ]

[abandonware]

[She has no idea how to respond to that. She is overwhelmed suddenly, a feeling like grief but not quite. It's nothing she's ever experienced before.

She cannot find the words to tell him what a loathsome creature she is. On her Earth, it was understood. There was no need to defend herself, to say anything. She was a traitor to YoRHa. Deserter. Murderer. Someone who had failed her team when they needed her.

Unseen, she covers her communicator again, looks away. Stares at nothing.]

Proposal: A response is recommended. The individual known as "Nier" is attempting to form a connection. Developing positive rapport among allies in the Circle is advised for A2's continued survival.

[Her head dips, her nails digging grooves into her palms, enough to draw blood. She uncovers the communicator.

Finally, her response comes, quiet and strained:]

Yeah.

...Thanks.

[extirpator]

[ she will never understand the weight of his sins. no one can. she is far better than he is, and he would tell her this if he could. his blade has run through children, through parents, through lovers and through vagrants. for each life he took, another was lost.

he destroyed the world. that knowledge sits in the back of his mind, ready to fester at any given moment.

and yet he always chooses to look forward. selfish until the end. ]

I'll see you soon, A2.

And you too, Pod.

[ she's better than he is.

at the end of the day, he knows well that's why he will endeavor to help her, no matter the cost. ]