C O D E : 0 5 6

   “It does make sense.” 

   Why had she chosen to say that? Why had she chosen to say or do anything at all? This was not her role. This was not why she was crafted, and it was not what the adults wished of her. And yet, there the words came – quiet, hardly audible, mostly to the ground, or the tray, as if hoping to act as a bridge.

   As if praying it will forge a connection between the two of them. 

   She did not want a connection. She had no partner for a reason. She was meant to remain that way. 

    At least, until those pulling her strings had different ideas. 

   She felt ice on the back of her neck – a ghost, frigid breath against the nape. It was the ice she’d offered Code 056, she knew. Something sensed. 

   A sharp reminder of the tool she was. 

   Perhaps – if she stayed absolutely silent, and did not move, he would not perceive that she’d spoken at all. 

He’d almost missed her speaking, with his eyes closed and blood dully pounding in his ears from both the fever and the position he was in. Her voice was incredibly soft, disuse adding to that lower register. 

At first, he assumed she might be lying for his benefit, but...that didn’t really seem like her style. 

“It makes sense, but...it’s not exactly smart,” Goro sighed in admittance, setting his glasses off to the side as he leaned back, a hand at his neck to keep the cool cloth from slipping. “I know I should get it properly taken care of, it will go away faster if I get treated. But, I’ll be out of commission while that happens, which means Ichigo can’t pilot -- and the squad as a whole won’t have its leader.”

   Neoma couldn’t really help the smile, a bit small and warm, that curled around her face at his offer. He was still a kid – his features were still soft and large – and he wanted to help. To protect her. 

   Her grin remained as she reached out, dropped her hand against his hair. She was saying, that’s sweet. She was saying, you’re young. She was saying, stay back, though. “Don’t worry. They’re never good shots,” was what her voice settled on. 

   And – well, they weren’t, but even if they were, she’d be fine. She’d picked bullets out of her skin before. Flicked them away like they were flies. Harmless, more or less. 

   “Just stay back.” 

   That’s all the warning she gave him before she started approaching the stranger – who hesitated when he saw her rounding towards him, and then raised his weapon. He shot once, twice, but by the time he’d pulled the trigger the third time, she’d already thrown her sword into his shoulder, and then across his side. Death seeped from him, and she stepped back – pressed the tip of her sword vaguely into the ground, letting blood drop from it. With her boot, she began to knock pieces of skin that’d snagged on the serrated edges. 

He thought, for a moment, that she was going to listen to him -- but then her hand reached out to mess against his hair, very much an adult assurance to someone she clearly viewed as nothing more than a child. 

It irked him a little bit. He could be of use, he knew how to fight, even if he wasn’t exactly as good at it as some of the other kids back home. But, the more rational part of his brain knew that she had the benefit of experience on her side in comparison to himself, and she would make the obvious assumption that he needed her help instead of the other way around due to the gap in their age. It was a fair and logical conclusion to come to, no matter how it rubbed him the wrong way.

“They’re never good shots...?” Goro can’t help but echo under his breath as he cautiously watches her approach the man who had been following her.

She couldn’t really be going at him head on, right? No...No, she really was just going for it--

Goro only had a moment of hesitation from the stranger to act, ducking out of the way when bullets started to fly. It was over pretty much as soon as he was able to revert his attention back to the fight. The blood didn’t really bother him much, but he was taken aback by how skillfully she was able to handle the threat.

“...I guess you really didn’t need any help there,” he breathed out in muted awe, dusting his pants off as he got up and made his way over. “That was really something! I wasn’t really sure what to expect from such an old style of weapon, but you took him out so fast.” Ichigo would probably like to talk to this woman, get what pointers she could from someone who had real world experience with fighting out here.

Breathing felt impossible. 

No. No, no -- this couldn’t be happening! She was fine, she was going to be fine. He just had to get to her-- all he had to do was get to her, and she would be okay. 

But Ichigo’d been hit hard, and she hadn’t gotten out of the wreckage of the building she’d crashed into yet. 

He was always by her side, whenever possible. In battle, outside of it. It didn’t matter the situation, he was her support. Why had she broken away from him like that? They worked well together on almost all levels! They’d known each other since they were children -- well, younger, at the very least -- so they hardly ever needed to verbally communicate between each other to understand. Goro was quick on the battlefield; he knew how to hit and run, bait foes into an attack, where Ichigo could follow up to finish them off. 

She was still giving orders, but he could hear the shrillness in her voice, the wrongness that clung to every word. Her scream had been awful, terrible -- horrifying. It had been something he felt physically, immediately drawing him out of the battle at hand. 

Her words only started to make sense to him when her tone made it clear that she wasn’t expecting to actually make it out of here.

“Ichigo, no-- We still have time!”

He was fast. He just needed a little breathing room to get to her. The others could provide them cover. Goro didn’t like to contradict Ichigo’s orders, especially mid-battle -- had he ever really, before? -- but he wasn’t going to abandon her.

“Keep them busy, drive them back!” Goro finds himself shouting to the rest of their squad, heading straight for the rubble where Ichigo’s mech was laying in a busted heap. He didn’t know how bad it was, and he was confident in his ability to move any of the debris on top of the mech without causing any further collapse.

“Just hold on, okay? I’m coming for you!”

He was out of his own Knightmare faster than he’d ever thought he could manage, scrambling over twisted metal and rubble to force Ichigo’s open once he found it in the mess. It wasn’t easy, and it didn’t look good when he got to her.

   And it was, as well, a long couple of weeks.

   Everyone in the nest was acclimating, however slowly, to Goro being gone. After all, they’d already lost Zero Two and Hiro. And they’d all grown up having kids out of the Garden taken. It was still hard, but – chores went on. Life went on. It had to. 

   Everyone was acclimating, that was, except for Ichigo. 

   Ichigo never really felt like she’d been in control of her feelings. Not fully, anyway. They were large, and loud, and they bubbled out and burned her, and those around her, boiling water, or acid. 

   Goro had been the one to help keep those in check. Papa and the others are watching. This is no time for crying. Firm, gentle words. Grounding. Pulling back to reality. 

   But now Goro was gone.

   He was coming back, she told herself. He’d be home soon. Things would be the same again. 

   But they wouldn’t. 

   Goro had always relied on her – and her on him, in turn. She’d known it, she’d noticed it, but she never knew how much she needed it. How much she needed him. 

   But now she felt alone. Disconnected from the squad. As though Goro had been her only link to the rest of them. As though Goro were the integral part to all of her friendships. All of her leadership. Like she was just faking it without him. 

   Ichigo had been working more, as a result. She set goals for the teams, and the ones that had the highest goals, she’d lend her help to. If they reached it earlier, she’d go further down the list. They were making good time. Good progress. 

   “What are you doing?” Ikuno’s voice came shrill and high through the halls of the nest – so much so it shocked Ichigo. Her shoes paused against the floor, heel of one still frozen just before it reached tile. Though Ichigo’s lips parted, she couldn’t find anything to say.

   “Why are you overworking yourself again?” Her voice was desperate, and watery, and the surprise at that thought made Ichigo spin to her. Sure enough – there were tears in her eyes. Ikuno’s teeth clenched – only a moment of pause before she plowed on further. 

   “Is it because of Hiro? Or Goro? You’re being an idiot! You’re going to make yourself sick. Do you know how many people rely on you here?” She paused – seemed to wind herself up – and then burst, so loudly it echoed throughout the hall, “You’re being so selfish!” 

   All the wind was knocked out of her lungs. There was no air anywhere in the nest, she was sure. Ikuno’d swallowed it all with her words. Being selfish. Like Hiro was. Like what she and Goro thought about Hiro. 

   She was just like Hiro. 

   “I’m done caring about you!” Ikuno said, because she was a stronger person than Ichigo was, because she refused to be treated poorly, because she was mad – Ichigo didn’t really know. All she did know was that she only rose a hand to stop her after she’d walked away, and when she called, “Ikuno,” after her, weakly, she didn’t expect her to stop. 

   And she hadn’t. 

   Now Ichigo was back in her room, staring at the ceiling from her bed, trying to breathe through holes strewn through her frame. Ikuno was right. She was being selfish. 

   Was she really just as bad as Hiro?

   Was she even worse?

That first night was long, and sleep really only came until some time in the early hours of the morning; it was one of those sleeps where you didn’t realize you’d actually fallen asleep until you were jolting awake hours later. It didn’t exactly get easier from there on out, but a routine was created that made it feel a bit more normal. 

The solitude was equal parts exhilarating and depressing for Goro. While he did feel like he was learning more about himself out here, there would always be that unbreakable connection to the rest of the squad, to Ichigo. Every choice he made, every action or lack of one, was solely on his shoulders -- for better or worse. He couldn’t ask for Ichigo’s opinion or advice on anything in the moment, nor feel her thoughts as easily as his own like they could do in Delphinium. It was bizarre; feeling like he was uncovering parts of himself, but in the process, half of him was elsewhere completely.

It made the physical exertion of exploring and gathering anything useful just that much more integral to him. It was both a purpose and a distraction. Every little thing he found or overcame was proof of why he’d chosen to come out here in the first place. He could do something useful that the others couldn’t. He was capable of contributing something more than just moral support and an extra pair of hands.

As he took his time going through the wreckage of one of the Greenhouses, Goro was surprised by the amount of stuff he’d found that was salvageable. He’d found a few things here or there that the others had asked him to look out for -- some were rather worse for wear, but Goro figured it was better than nothing, and that a little hard work could see them looking in better condition. The biggest find had been what Ikuno’d requested him to look for, though it had taken him the better part of a week to locate it and then work it out from the rubble of the area it’d been in.

Of course, the end of the day was where he wound down for the most part, and as the sun dipped lower in the sky, Goro always found himself smiling no matter how tired he was. 

i’m strong…

i can be strong…

   He was talkative, was he not?

   Code 111 had not spent enough time in the presence of any other in this squad to truly note their tendencies in-depth, but this one seemed content to fill the empty air with noise. 

   His words damned him, however. ( As words ever did. It was the same reason, of course, that she chose not to speak unless absolutely necessary. ) He was a fool. He thought he could hide his pain. What if a klaxosaur attacked right now, and he was forced to pilot? Did he truly think Code 015 would not notice? Did he believe he was clear-headed enough to make decisions on the field?

   Her jaw tightened momentarily. Teeth ground slightly. Her face was empty as a wall. 

   Could we maybe keep this between us? 

   Code 111 knew the correct answer. No. Her entire point was to send information about Squad 13. She stared at the floor, weighing his answer… and gave her agreement with the gentlest inclination of her head. 

   Perhaps words did not have to damn her. Perhaps her heart had already done enough of that. 

   In silence, she took the seat Code 056 encouraged her to retake, watched near where he was. More the tray than his face, perhaps. Confirming that he would, indeed, use the other things offered. At least he took the medication. Hopefully that would ease his suffering.

Boy, she really was good at staying silent, wasn’t she? 

Goro didn’t really mind, but it did make it difficult to get a good read on her. There were usually others in the squad that took up the role of noise-makers and chatterboxes, but with her, it seemed like mostly one-way conversations was all he was going to get. Which left him in the position of either trying to continue the interaction, or letting it awkwardly die in the air around them...

But, even if she didn’t say anything in response to him, he got the feeling that she...disagreed. To put it simply. Despite the fact that she was helping him to conceal it instead of going to Nana or Hachi. She could easily report his illness and force his hand, but she wasn’t.

“...I’m sorry you felt the need to get involved. I...know it doesn’t make much sense,” he murmured, tapping the pads of his fingers against the side of the glass in his hand, no real rhythm to it.

If it came down to it, and something happened, he knew it was incredibly likely that he’d be found out. It wasn’t like he’d get in trouble by having it taken care of. He just...didn’t want to drag Ichigo down. She was the squad leader, and if something happened while he was out of commission, she wouldn’t be able to take to the field either. 

He was surprised yet again by 111′s silent agreement to his request. He was grateful for her aid, but really, he had to wonder why she was giving him all this help.

Sighing, Goro set the glass back down onto the tray. He eyed the toast for a moment, but he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to attempt putting anything in his stomach. He wasn’t very hungry right now, at least, but he’d probably eat it later regardless since she’d gone through the trouble. The ice, however, he folded up into the towel and pressed to the back of his neck; sitting slightly leaned forward, head hanging as he let the chill of the ice seep into the burning heat of his skin. His glasses slid down his nose, so he chose to remove them for the time being. 

   It felt so hot here, at night. The air was a little different. Wetter, or something. She had been getting used to it. They all had. Still. Laying in a still, dark room at night… it felt so constrictive. It did nothing to prove her mood. She sighed, bitterly… snapped open her FXXMD. 

❰ Goro ❱ Just remember it’s not a priority. This isn’t a game, Goro. You don’t have Delphinium or me. You have to be careful. 

   That idiot. Why hadn’t he taken her? They weren’t supposed to be apart. Together, they could do anything, right? 

   That’s why he went, Ichigo. Calm down. 

   She shut her eyes – breathed a few deliberate breaths. Something angry and violent still swelled in her chest. 

   Why did it hurt to think that no one really needed her? 

   Another chirp. Are you in bed, or are you still finishing up any work before you call it a night? 

   Something in her shot fires through her frame, and she sat up in surprise. There was a – a strange want. She wanted to tell him she’s up late doing work. He had no way to refute that, after all. And if she did, he’d probably worry. Or at least think about her. 

   … Why did she want that? … Ha. Now who’s the dummy, Ichigo? 

❰ Goro ❱ I’m in bed. I think I’ll go to sleep soon.

This was...a lot harder than Goro had thought it would be, and he’d had no real illusions to it being easy. Outside of not knowing what he was going to face out here, all by himself, Ichigo was facing a somewhat similar situation, too. They had Nana and Hachi to help guide them, but they were still left on their own, trying to figure out how to live in a world that they didn’t know much about. Out here, Goro only had to worry about himself -- not entirely true, he was still worried about everyone -- but Ichigo was still in the position of looking out for everyone else.

He knew his decision to do this was generally motivated by a desire to contribute like everyone else, but it was impossible to deny that it had been selfish as well. No matter how he framed it, Goro knew that the core drive behind leaving everyone to go exploring had been to do something stand out; to not always be in Hiro’s shadow, and to...to make Ichigo see him.

Which was ironic, he realized, when he was now out of her sight...

« Ichigo » I do understand, Ichigo. I’m not trying to make a joke out of this. I know I don’t always make the best decisions on my own, but I made you a promise. I intend to keep it. No matter what. So, please, try not to stress out too much about me. I’ll do my best to stay safe out here, and to not...make too many boneheaded moves without you to back me up.

Goro shifted position so that he could rest forward with his arms folded atop his knees, chin resting on his forearms. Ichigo had every right to be upset with him. Mouth held in a firm line, he sighed, nose scrunched  up against his arm, making the edges of his glasses dig in slightly with the pressure.

His FXXMD beeps, sharp and shrill in the quiet of the darkness.

« Ichigo » It is getting late...But, that puts my mind at ease, Ichigo. Enjoy your soft bed for me, okay? I should probably get ready to sleep soon, too. I’ll keep in contact as often as I can, so don’t forget to let me know how things are going on your end, too, alright?

He hesitates to close the device for a moment, looking at the old, static picture of Ichigo’s face next to her messages. How long would she still look like that? Neat hair and determined eyes, soft face. Groaning, Goro closes the FXXMD and stashes it in his pocket, getting up to put out the little campfire that had been spitting sparks up into the starry sky.