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

[She's been here for a while, waiting for nothing. Only her internal systems keep measure of the time. She's staring at the flowers at his approach, and the sound of his voice appears to knock her out of her odd reverie.

In response, she shrugs, the motion absent and done without any feeling.

She doesn't seem angry. She doesn't seem like anything, really. Not upset, not annoyed, as she so often seemed to be in his presence.]

Yeah.

Guess you made it out too.

[ a2 is always feeling. that's her weakness in of itself: how much she feels at any given moment, and how desperate she is to mask it under layers upon layers worth of metal and wiring.

so he looks at her, and takes a step forward. ]

It wasn't your fault.

[ what exactly he's referring to is ambiguous. but he knows it's something that needs to be said no less. ]

You aren't alone.

[She breathes in, slowly. No one has ever bothered to tell her anything wasn't her fault, and so she cannot believe it now.

It was better not to think about what happened at all.]

Shove it. I don't need you to feel sorry for me.

[What she perceives as pity irritates her, but the feeling is dull and struggles to gain leverage through how oddly numbed she feels. Why bother? This failure, 2B's disappearance, that vision of Earth in the rift — it was all affirmation of a truth she'd already known. There was no permanence about this place, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.] Not the first time I've seen something like that.

I don't.

[ it's stated bluntly, his features unmoving. empathy is a rarity, he finds; it wasn't, once. ]

It doesn't get any easier. [ his eyes flit to the side this time. he angles his head in the direction of the sun. the scent of the grasslands tickles his nose. it's a comfort in these times. ]

But we're safe. Konoha, 9S, the others. There's still something to protect.

So why are you giving me a pep talk? [She snaps out, her usual anger beginning to thaw.] We're alive, that world is dead. I know already. You don't have to remind me.

[She doesn't want to think about this. She's spent her entire time back trying not to think about it.]

Because I care about you.

[ a simple statement, and a simple sentiment. the feeling in of itself is more complicated, but not worth discussing as of right now. ]

That isn’t going to change, even if you want it to.

Why?

[She sounds annoyed finally, a little bit more like herself.]

You don't get anything out of it.

Because I want to.

[ some of us act in accordance to our own wills. maybe a little too much. ]

[Well, I don't care about you, is the stupid and childish thought she has, which isn't even true, if she thinks about it. For once she holds her tongue.]

Whatever.

[She simmers in angry silence for a bit, leaning over the little gate that separates the garden from the rest of the area, and gradually the annoyance evens out some into neutrality.]

2B is missing.

[She says, after a lull.]

[ he waits for her to speak. once when she does, his expression doesn't shift all too much — they merely soften with disappointment, something of a sigh leaving him. ]

Weiss is gone too.

[ there's a beat. ]

I can look for her with you.

[She shakes her head.]

No. Her black box is gone. She's not anywhere.

[Weiss...where had she heard that name before? In the rift, she thinks, with the boy and...]

That talking book?

[ he doesn’t know what to say. there isn’t anything to say. ]

I’m sorry.

[ for a moment, he wonders why she asks that — until he remembers. the dreamscape. ]

The witch brought him here. He was a human again. But he’s gone.

[ his eyes flutter shut. ]

Wherever he is, I know he’s at peace now. I hope she is too.

[She doesn't know why he bothers apologizing. She'd killed 2B. The fact that she'd been allowed to at least attempt to clumsily make amends was more than she would ever deserve.]

At peace.

[She scoffs, derisive. Hurt, and unwilling to admit to it.]

Right. [Dead was dead, no matter what she'd told 9S and Simon to comfort them. 2B had nothing to look forward to but oblivion. The same as those people on Akvos, the same as her. Maybe that was some kind of peace, but she finds little comfort in it.]

If you say so.

[A muscle in her jaw jumps.]

What a useless mission. She should've never sent us into that goddamn disaster.

[ her dismissal rouses something within him. it's a prick of anger that threatens to boil over into a wave of rage, an indignant "i'm trying to deal with this too," but he doesn't say that. for a moment, his brows knit together, features hardening as his fists clench.

but nothing more. ]

It's over. If you keep looking back, you'll regret it.

[ he speaks tiredly; bluntly. ]

The people here still have a future. I want to protect that future.

So do it.

[She says, well on her way to peevish now. She notes his detachment even as he says this, and recognizes it for what it is.]

What do you want from me, anyway? I'm not supposed to be here. You're not supposed to be here. We're killing time until she screws up again and sends us back.

[She turns away from him, arms crossed, shoulders tight.]

I know it's over. This place, these people — they'll be gone too. Eventually.

They still matter. This place, these people.

[ he speaks firmly, but his eyes narrow, threatening to flit towards the ground. his fingers curl into his fists. ]

Even if we all disappear one day, the things we do right now matter.

What matters to me is killing machines.

[She's still got her back turned, defiant. Then her gaze cants off to the side; she sighs.] ...Can't even do that here.

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

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