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Fifteen steps into the tent, calling out his fellow soldier's ID. "Zero. Where are you? They're-"
Said soldier looks up from where he's sitting on his cot, caught unawares. His limbs move, reflexes lightning fast - but not fast enough to disguise the fact that he was holding onto something, just a moment ago.
Fifteen's brow furrows. He squints. "What is that?"
Zero tenses up, and-
Rewind. Fifteen steps into the tent, calling out, "Zero. Where-?"
He pauses. There's something off about this scene. Zero sits innocently on his cot. Stiff and poised, reminiscent of a training dummy.
Fifteen crosses his arms. "Where is it?"
Zero moves from staring blankly at the wall to staring blankly at him. "Where is what?"
"Don't play dumb with me," Fifteen growls. "The thing you were holding. Where is it?"
"No idea what you're talking about," Zero says, monotone. He rests his chin in his hand, and Fifteen can feel the smugness coming off of that gesture, the little shit.
Fifteen gives him a long, long, look, and-
Rewind. Fifteen bursts into the tent. He shouts, "Where is it?"
The sudden noise causes Zero to fumble with the object he was attempting to hide under his pillow. He almost drops it - but he still manages to recover fast enough so that Fifteen can't actually see what, it, is.
"This is going to take forever." A warning. They could do this for a week, maybe longer. Zero should know - they've gotten into even longer fights over even pettier things. The other NULL merely glares at him, cradling the Unidentified Fucking Object to his chest, defensively.
Fifteen squints. It's some unfamiliar shade of blue. Likely not a weapon. Whatever it is, he's certain it didn't come with the crates of equipment they were sent a week ago.
"Give that to me," he demands, crossing the room. His hand reaches out to grab it, and Zero responds by kicking him in the stomach-
Rewind, and his arm blocks Zero's leg. He lunges for his chest, toppling them both on the bed. Zero knees him in the chest, and Fifteen wheezes, rolling-
Rewind, and there's a bloom of pain as Zero's fist meets his chin in a sharp uppercut-
Rewind-
Rewind-
Rewind. They both have their daggers out. Circling each other, like the animals they sometimes come across out in the verdant undergrowth. Zero glares, eyes dark and concentrated. One of his hands behind his back, holding onto the mystery object with because he can't fucking let go.
Fine by Fifteen. He spits, some phantom reminder of the tooth Zero knocked out a few cycles ago. It gives him the advantage.
They are perfectly, evenly matched when they charge at each other, that first clang of steel against steel filling the air. They hold - the space they occupy thick with anticipation. This close, Fifteen could count his opponent's eyelashes. Watches the minute contractions of his dark brown irises.
Zero gazes back, but then his eyes dart downwards. It's a flicker of a second - but still, rookie mistake. Fifteen parries the attempted strike at his side, then his leg.
He lunges forward, as Zero steps to the side with surefooted grace. Planning, no doubt, to take advantage of the arc of momentum Fifteen has found himself in. He did it once. The blade slotting in right beside Fifteen's spine - but not this time.
He relishes in the look of surprise on Zero's face as he twists, arm swinging upwards- Zero's other hand comes out to block, reflexively-
There's a cry of pain, as Fifteen's blade slices through muscle and bone. He falls flat on his ass, knocking the wind out of him, as Zero stumbles backwards. Drops of blood and- stuffing? Fly through the air.
Fifteen gasps, and scrambles to prop himself up on his elbows. Quickly orients himself, to take a look at the scene. Zero stands across, bent in pain and clutching at his hand. But his gaze is focused on the mangled remains of a toy, it was nothing but a toy, split open on the polypropylene floor.
Fifteen looks at it for a second, two. Its soft exterior ruined and torn, blue fabric stained dark with Zero's blood. The words fall out of his mouth, unthinking. "Are you serious?"
Zero's eyes snap to him, filled with cold, murderous fury. He pulls his uninjured hand back, and there’s a sharp, whistling sound as Fifteen blinks. The dagger's tip pierces his vision, and the world fills red-
Rewind. "Would you quit it, and talk to me-" Fifteen hisses, punching Zero twice in the ribs, both hard enough to send the force reeling back up his arm. Zero grunts, but still, the other NULL refuses to take his hand off of his throat, keeping him pinned to the floor. "I said, quit it-"
The toy lies discarded beside them - no point in trying to keep it a secret any longer. Fifteen can observe it better from here, whole and unguarded. It has a bald, rounded head, which leads to a tail and a fin-like protrusion on either side. Some mutated sort of fish. Or whale. Or at least, what Fifteen has heard whales look like, in a book somewhere.
…It’s kind of cute, he thinks. In an ugly way. From the corner of his eye, he sees the glint of Zero's dagger. He braces himself for inevitable pain. He'll use that moment to flip Zero over, and then-
Nothing comes, as Zero grabs his braid, and slices through it.
It's a clean cut. Fifteen barely even registers the loss, only realizing when Zero holds the unfurling braid up in the air, as if it were some kind of trophy. Frozen in shock, he watches as it comes undone and falls in a rain of bright yellow thread.
Time slows, as it tends to do. Zero’s eyes widen, realizing his mistake as Fifteen opens his mouth and screams, surging forward to bite off some bloody, godawful part of the brat he doesn't deserve to have attached to him after this - when the tent flap opens.
There stands half a dozen members of the Gamma Squadron. Staring, open mouthed, at the massacre that is now Fifteen's hair-
No, that won't work.
This is what they do. Fifteen steps into the tent, and comes to sit on the cot beside Zero. Zero, for his part, stares sullen and suspicious, but makes no move to hide the toy in his hands.
Fifteen crosses his arms, then focuses on the wall of the tent across from them. "...I won't tell anyone you have it, if you tell me where you picked it up."
Zero is silent. Then, quietly, "...A few days back. It was in that house. The one with the scientist."
Fifteen recalls it, yes. Standing about in that humid air, the harsh sun beating down on his head and back as he kept lookout. Another discreet operation, just the two of them. Usually, they were good enough that it was all they needed.
As for their target... Fifteen can't remember much. That man had seen them, eyes widening in fear and recognition, and fled back to that patched together hut. Zero had given chase. The whole thing took less than five minutes.
Fifteen frowns. "Wasn't he a little too old to be playing with toys?"
Zero simply stares, deadpan. Fifteen waits, tapping his foot, then-
"Oh." He lets out a deep, heavy sigh. "Fuck. Zero."
The other NULL fidgets with the toy, bobbing it up and down slightly, as if it were actually swimming on the waves. He looks away.
"...I did as we were told." Fifteen opens his mouth to argue that point, but Zero continues. "Neutralized the target. Eliminated who I found there."
Emphasis on found, Fifteen supposes. "How very smart of you," he snarls. Something bitter rises up in his throat. Worry, foreign and unwelcome. He's been feeling it more and more nowadays, as they approach the end.
Zero only glares at him again, before turning his attention back to that odd, inanimate imitation of a creature that may or may not be real.
"...You're not getting squeamish, are you?" Fifteen asks.
Doubtful. If the last, non-existent hours have proved anything, Zero is still as effective as ever. Fifteen feels the stinging wounds of a false memory- his abdomen torn open, face split apart under steel. He finds himself playing with his braid, relieved to feel the familiar texture of it under his hands.
Zero frowns. "Of course not. I just..."
He trails off. "...It wasn't worth the effort."
Fifteen looks unconvinced, and he makes sure Zero sees. Children and the elderly - those are the easiest targets they have. Slow, and fearful, and weak without an adult there to protect them. And even the strongest adult is nothing for a NULL soldier, given enough time.
The kindest thing to do is to kill them quickly. Before they can even register what is happening to them, before they start to cry. Everything burns in the end, anyways.
"It was just there," Zero insists. "And I wanted it. So I took it." As if he's trying to justify how simple, how bloodless it was. No crime committed, when there should have been.
Fifteen can feel himself frowning again, even deeper. It doesn't matter how easy it was to take. The matter is, it doesn't belong with them.
He scoffs. "Forget about that guy. You're too old."
Not even that. They were never any age for toys. They're not children, despite what their appearances say. Despite the whispers of the other soldiers - and what do they know? They've never even felt time expand, and then condense at their fingertips. They've never wound a day into a week. Weeks into years, remaining ageless through it all.
Could a child do that? Could they do what Fifteen could? Fifteen knows what a child is, and he knows what a NULL is. Children die. Countless of them in this war. More on the horizon.
NULLs do not. And yet...
"This is why I didn't want to show you," Zero mutters. Fifteen huffs. He glances back over at the blue creature. Its black, beady eyes stare up at him.
A strange urge comes over him. He swallows. "...Let me hold it."
He keeps his voice low, thoroughly cold. Zero only raises his eyebrows, hesitating for a moment, before he passes it into Fifteen's hands.
Fifteen blinks. It's soft. He rubs his thumb against it, marveling at the texture. Incredibly light, as he brings it closer, examining the material. Not at all like the standard issue guns they were given, or his sword - both solid, cool weights.
He falls back on the bed, and holds it up to the lamplight. The shape of it goes dark, casting a shadow on his face, as he turns it this way and that. Beside him, he hears an amused, "Didn't you just say-"
Fifteen scowls. "I'm analyzing it," he insists. And he is. It's about as deadly as a banana peel- (though anything can be deadly, with enough time and in the right hands-) and distracting. He huffs.
"...Are you going to name it?" he asks, after another moment. The cot shifts, fabric rustling as Zero lies down beside him.
Zero sounds confused. "Why would I do that?"
"That's what they do, don't they?" Fifteen grumbles. "Kids, I mean. You're meant to name these things."
A steady drip of silence. Fifteen lets his arms drop, settling the creature on his chest. It rises and falls with his breathing, as he turns his head towards Zero, who stares, distantly up towards the ceiling.
.
.
"...I'll think about it," he says, eventually. Then, he frowns, and turns back to Fifteen. "Are you going to give it back?"
"Don't tell me I'll have to fight you for it, again. Because I'll win."
Fifteen clicks his tongue in disdain. "No, thanks. Keep it. It's not like I want it, anyways."
He shoves it vaguely in Zero's direction, then sits up. It's not like he's jealous at all. He's the one with a cool sword, after all. Whatever.
He sighs, standing up and stretching. His bones pop, the sound bringing forth an echo of how moments ago, in a time that never happened, he'd dislocated Zero's wrist. He puts his hands on his hips, and glances back at Zero, who tucks the toy away.
"Dinner will be ready soon," he says. "That's all I wanted to say."
He makes to leave the tent, only to hear Zero rise behind him, and step out as well.
"Give me a moment," he says. So Fifteen waits.
He closes his eyes to the familiar clicking of a lighter. When he opens them again, there’s that tell-tale, orange glow in the dusk. A trail of smoke from Zero’s lips, like a ghost rising, rising.
No, Fifteen thinks. They aren’t children at all.