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

[abandonware]

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[abandonware]

[Not the same, but similar. Not unlike the machines, she thinks, and the androids who didn't know they were built from the leavings of their most hated enemies. Without thinking, A2's hand goes to her chest, where her black box resides beneath a metal ribcage.

Her eyes flit to the tattoo Ragna shows her — a designation. No wonder he had been so insistent on his humanity — that she find personhood of her own. It was not unlike Rose, who had decided on names for all of her squad. For A2 and her own teammates. Girlish and delicate words — the names of flowers. But A2 believed herself unworthy of such a thing. There wasn't a need for her to have a name or a family. No amount of kindness here would convince her otherwise.]

Pretty similar. [She repeats, somberly.] Hm. Not much good comes out of being similar to me.

[rebellions]

[ The man tilts his head to the side slightly, watching her reaction to this revelation. It's surprisingly tame, but honestly? He's grateful for that. He doesn't think it should be that big of a deal, anyway; some people are born, some are made, but he doesn't believe their origins should affect the way they live their lives. ]

How so? [ He asks, genuinely confused at first, but before she even answers, the possible reason dawns on him. Ragna frowns, adding another question with a scoff. ] You're not about to give me more of that "I shouldn't be alive" bullshit, are you?

[ Ironic, for him to be so vehemently opposed to that idea when he's come to the same conclusion regarding his own existence, though until she proves him wrong, he assumes her life isn't ruining the entire world. So no, he won't accept the idea that she's not worthy of existing. ]

[abandonware]

It's the truth.

[Says A2 simply, matter-of-factly. This was not the first time someone had gotten angry at her for telling the truth.] Nothing good has ever come of it.

[She thinks of 2B, naturally. Her desperate attempts to save the one good thing she knew existed in the world. Doomed to repeat a cycle of killing the one she cared for the most, over and over again.]

People like me don't get happy endings. It's just the way the world is designed. So, I doubt you'll get one either.

[A2 draws her greatsword. Then she drives it into a spot cleared of rubble, and with a grunt, sits down to lean against it. The sun is beginning to set and she wants a good vantage point to watch it.] All you can do is wait for the other shoe to drop.

[rebellions]

[ "People like me don't get happy endings."

The statement rings painfully true. In fact, that's something he's thought about himself more than once. So why? Why does hearing that from someone else cause his chest to tighten as if squeezed by an invisible hand? Why does he feel this irrational anger building up inside him? He's perfectly fine with the fate he's chosen for himself, but the idea of someone else resigning themselves to a similar destiny is almost too much to bear.

Ragna clicks his tongue in annoyance and draws his own sword in response, pointing at the woman with its blade. ]

... I'm not known for my patience.

[ He responds slowly, his voice low and gruff, matching the flames of quiet determination flickering in his mismatched eyes. ]

So what if I don't get a happy ending? So what if I'm doomed to fail, and will end up dying miserably? That's no reason for me to roll over and accept it. I can and will fight back until the very end! ... And if by doing that I can make a change in the world, then that's good enough for me.

[ A2's right about one thing; he's never gonna get a happy ending. But if his actions can lead to someone else getting one... if his loved ones get to live their lives happily, then it doesn't matter how much he has to suffer. ]