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D-13 wasn’t sure how to make small talk with a robot. He wasn’t sure what they had in common. Even though they had become extremely advanced, he still wasn’t used to just relaxing and conversing with them.
It had been a few months now since he’d been visiting the institution. Adjusting to life after the fighting, the battles, the missions, was very much a slow process. He’d expected to just embrace and adapt to it quickly, but the underlying truth was that it still felt a bit strange and unfamiliar.
Maybe it was the fact that after his flying duties were technically over, he was spending a lot of time talking to and getting to know all of the other divisions that had been involved in the fighting. And apparently amongst them they had robot guardians protecting civilians from evil robots. Rather, other types of evil robots. Truth be told, he was realising how little he knew of the breadth of the conflict, how little he’d heard from all of the other fronts that were all happening at once.
Today it had dawned on him just how much work there was still to be done, the weight of how many people were still in danger. Seeing the Maverick reports had been an unpleasant eye-opening experience. So that’s why he was sitting at the corner of the diner’s counter, just a few blocks away from robot HQ, far too late into the evening for anyone else to be here. Not that the robot waiter seemed to mind, they seemed content to let him have his peace.
At some point, without him realising, three seats away from him, a robot had sat down, quietly staring at nothing in particular, deep in contemplation. Not having any idea what kind of conversation to bring up at all, he simply kept sipping on his juicebox. It was the last one he had left on him… he hadn’t realised how much he’d taken already. Apparently the day had been rougher than he’d even realised.
He was brought back to the present by the waiter’s voice. “You looking a bit glum today, Aile.”
“Couldn’t help but think of Giro all day today.”
“Aww, I’m sorry… you missing him?”
“Every day. I don’t think I truly realised how important he was to me… until everything happened.”
“Even so, you know that he’s proud of you and looking after you however he can.”
“I know, I know… but it’s not the same, you know? It still hurts, thinking about the ways in which he’s not here anymore.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Aile. You did everything you could.” With that, the robot seemed to have no more to stay, staring down at her hands in deep thought.
The waiter turned around, and retrieved a bottle of what seemed to be some kind of soft drink. D-13 had no idea what it was. Whatever it was, they poured a generous amount onto two glasses they’d put on the counter, right in front of Aile and themselves.
“We know that he’s still watching you, wishing the best for you. So… let’s make a toast, alright?” They raised their glass in front of her. “To the friends that have passed, but are still with us.” Aile raised her glass in return and clinked with them.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the human in the corner raise a juicebox in response, with a muted seriousness on his face, before drinking the last of it through the straw, and gently setting it down on the table, then a moment later putting it back in his pocket.
“Lost someone too, I see… I guess that’s why you’re here?” The waiter piped up, after downing their drink.
“No… no.” It was only a half-truth. He was here to try and take his mind off it, but felt that maybe it was best to change the subject right away. “I’m here for… inter-departmental business. Was tasked to get up to speed on… the various fronts we’re fighting for.”
Aile studied his appearance for a moment. “Hey, I recognise that uniform. You’re one of those elite human pilots that are deployed on the other side of the country.” D-13’s face shot up in response, a mixture of flabbergasted and dumbfounded. “Yeah… how did you know…?”
“I had to get briefed on this, too. Part of my responsibilities now are knowing just how big this battle is, all the various groups and institutes we’ve got out there. I had no idea there were so many, or that they passed by here.”
“Yeah… it’s a lot to take in. To be honest, I don’t know that I’m processing it all that well…” Despite the fact that he’d already be returning later that usual, part of him just wanted to stay here and let time pass, gently dissolving the weight of everything away until he could chin up again.
“Me neither. One day, you’re just doing your job, and then a few days later, your whole world’s changed. You don’t know what’s going on anymore. And somehow I’m in the middle of so many messes, feeling like I had no choice.” Even if she was a stranger, D-13 could tell that Aile was carrying a lot of weight in her, and trying to unload it somehow, however she could.
“Tell me about it.” He paused to get a sigh out of his throat. “Here I was thinking we were making progress, getting stuff done for good. Then you hear how much fighting still has to be done, in so many places you don’t know. And you don’t know how much more fight you’ve got left in you.”
Aile’s face betrayed the fact that those words were hitting her harder than any words she could’ve mustered, if a deep silence hadn’t come over her. She took a deep breath, so her voice wouldn’t be so shaky. “We lost so many good fighters already. I’m sick of this.”
A solemn nod was all he could respond with. The waiter could tell that the mood in here had turned morose and confessional, so they quietly walked to the other end of the counter, and discreetly began to clean the place, hoping to become just background scenery for whatever these two needed to get off their chests.
After another few seconds, he spoke softly. “You mentioned someone. Giro. They were someone important to you?”
She bit her lip, trying to choose her words. “More than I realised. Until it was too late.” She turned to face him. “You sound like someone who’s gone through that, too.”
D-13’s eyes had gone cold, icy, as he tried to keep the lump in his throat down. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you lost them. I’m sorry the fighting we’re doing couldn’t save them.”
For a moment, all he could think of was of a young, still idealistic fighter, believing that the world rested on her shoulders, as if it had been her destiny to fulfill. “It wasn’t your fight.”
He meant it to be reassuring, that she shouldn’t feel guilty, but his tone might’ve been too curt for that. “You… couldn’t have saved her. Nobody could. I… couldn’t.” He had to stop right then and there, before any more emotions flushed out of him and lost control like this. He wasn’t sure he could handle it.
“...I’m so sorry.” Was all she could bring herself to say. Besides feeling guilty for making him feel so awful, those words were echoing in her head. Unable to save someone that she cared about. Feeling helpless.
Pulling the trigger on him.
Her fists were clenched. Very tightly. Force fueled by anger, starting to slowly bend and dent the counter.
No. No. Not like this. Come on. Get a grip. Calm down.
She looked at him again, wondering if he was faring any better. His composure seemed steady, except for the fact that now his hand was clasping something so tightly, his skin had turned paled. It looked like a… very old-fashioned watch of sorts.
A memento?
She heard him breathe in and out in a very deliberate, concentrated manner, gradually slowing down until he seemed to be steady away. But the grip on the watch had not loosened in the slightest.
“You said you miss him. Well… I miss her, too. A lot. Every day. And every night.” He wasn’t even looking at her, he was just staring at the space in front of him, not paying attention anymore, lost in his thoughts. “And I don’t know if I can ever…”
Two more lumps gulped down, painfully, agonisingly.
“If I can… ever… forgive myself… for…”
A beautiful sunset. A crumbling cocoon of cursed technology claiming her. A hail of solemn bullets. Pulling the trigger, hitting her dead on. The wings evaporating, as she plunged to her doom, screams of pain her only company. Watching her descend, his tears falling alongside.
Aile watched him have an emotional breakdown in haunting silence, as he suppressed every single instinct in his body to explode. The watch was starting to dig into his skin and push his muscles. In his eyes, Aile saw a torrent of furious emotions play out in eerie silence, unlike anything she’d ever seen.
And in a moment, it was over. D-13 snapped out of it, fighting to stay on top of his shaken emotions. “She’s… not dead… not really. But… not really here, either.”
“I… understand.” She wasn’t sure. She sorta did, sorta didn’t. Geno wasn’t entirely gone, either. Maybe it was something like that? At this point, too much had been said. She didn’t feel the impulse to talk about it anymore.
The diner had become dead quiet, the two fighters glued to their seats, unable to speak and focus away from the voids they felt within them. The waiter had purposefully gone all the way to the other end of the diner, realising that it was getting a little too intense for comfort.
After several minutes, the waiter finally dared to walk behind the counter again, and with all the tact in the world, silently approached D-13’s end, and barely above a whisper: “Can I get you anything?”
D-13 had no idea if he could even swallow anything anymore. At the same time, maybe for once, he could try something a little stronger. “You got Swords beer?”
The waiter raised an eyebrow. Well, that was an odd order. “I think I’ve got some on the back. Excuse me.” They gently disappeared behind the doors to the back of the diner, with the occasional sound of rummaging breaking up the silence, before they came out, the requested beer in hand. “Here you go.” They poured him a tall glass of it on a mat, and gently nudged it towards him.
His friend always loved this beer. Still did, actually. Slowly, he raised the glass and took a sip.
“How’s the taste?” They asked, tentatively.
After a laboured gulp and a moment to think. “Strangely familiar… somehow. I think… it’s alright. Not bad.” With that said, he stood up from the counter, grabbed his glass, and walked all the way to the seat right next to Aile, setting down the drink next to her empty glass.
He briefly dusted off and tidied up his uniform, and extended his hand towards the robot. “D-13. Elite Pilot Team Division.”
Aile carefully took his hand and shook back. “Aile. Member of the Guardians, wielder of the Model X biometal.”
The handshake was a bit clumsy, but firm. “...I gotta be honest, I don’t really know what that means.”
Aile couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, don’t worry. I didn’t either until very recently.”
As their hands concluded the firm handshake, he took another small sip. “Tell the truth, I didn’t realise how much I needed to get all that out of my chest. And as much as it saddens me others have gone through what I have, I’m also glad to know that we have good people - and robots - helping us out and fighting the good fight with us.”
Aile’s face ever so slightly beamed at those words. “I’m glad, too.” Aile then noticed that the waiter had sneakily refilled her glass. She took it and lifted it up towards D-13. “Here’s to keeping up the fight, making those we lost proud of us… and hopefully a good recovery for us, too.”
D-13 smiled for the first time in the whole night, and clinked his glass with hers, happy to have found a new ally in this ever-changing world.