(Publishing so I can stop obsessing over editing it. Tired of emo Zero hospital stories, yet? Enjoy, you closet Rage/Zero shippers, even if this isn't romantic. :P Initially inspired by the Ask Zero question on Tumblr.)
"Couldn't you have just let me die?"
Days later, those words continued to haunt him. A young, bed-ridden boy looked him directly in the eye, post-procedure, and asked him that question. Zero couldn't answer that... because after seeing the hollow look in the patient's stare, he nearly gave him that option. Instead, Zero dodged the question, and asked the boy to rethink his outlook.
In the end, the boy lived, but Zero found it difficult to accept the life his former patient would have. Despite his bitter mood and conflicting thoughts, Zero went to the arcade with the others. Why did he let himself get worked up over someone else's problem? He had to think of something else for his own mental health, so he tried to focus on DDR.
"Man, it's like you're not even trying," Rage told him after their third song and his third victory, wearing his baggy jeans and white T-shirt. He smiled confidently at Zero. The man, who had his own fur coat set on the bar behind him, sighed with an expression that looked like he was in pain.
"You okay?" Rage asked, suddenly concerned. Unable to get Zero's attention right away, he waved his hand in front of his opponent's face until Zero swatted him away with a brown sleeve.
"You're right; I'm going easy on you," Zero answered sarcastically. "You could use a win every once in a while."
"Well, stop it!" Rage yelled. "You gotta give it your all, or it doesn't count."
Zero brushed his hair in Rage's direction and walked off the mat. Rage groaned and hopped off, pushing Gus to go up next with Emi. He took another look at Zero, and noticed that the effeminate dancer took his fur coat and was heading outside. There was something off about him, and if Rage was the only one to notice, he felt it was his duty to check him out.
He caught Zero outside the arcade, walking into the parking lot.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" he yelled, jogging and putting his orange coat on.
Zero stopped walking, refusing to face Rage. "Home."
"You didn't even say goodbye."
"I'll just be back next week."
"But why are you leaving now?" Rage was getting frustrated. "Is this 'cause of what I said?"
"… yes. Yes it is."
Rage's face fell in disbelief. "Wh... look I'm-"
"I can't try this week. I'm unable to focus. That's all."
"Whaddaya mean you can't focus this week?"
A sigh. "I keep getting distracted."
"By wh-"
Zero turned around to face Rage. "Is there an end to this interrogation?"
Rage crossed his arms, wearing a stubborn grin. "Maybe if you'd give me a longer answer, I wouldn't keep on asking questions."
Zero rolled his eyes. "What makes you interested, anyway?"
"'Cause you're part of the group, now. We're a team."
"… so?"
"Sssso... we gotta stick together. We can't just let you go off alone all the time. I mean... life's gotta be pretty hard that way."
Zero's eyes narrowed. "Maybe I prefer it that way."
"Come on, you're way different this week. You usually come up here to serve me and Gus and rub it in our faces."Maybe you won't admit it," he pointed accusingly, "but you like playing DDR. At least you like beating us, and if you're avoiding something you like," he put a hand on his goatee, "I don't get it. It's just not right."
Zero sighed and continued walking away. He heard Rage's eager footsteps behind him before they both stopped again.
"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" Zero complained.
"Nope, not until you tell me what's up."
"Persistent, aren't you?"
Rage gave him an angry look from behind. "Yeah, well, so are you."
He had a point...
Zero turned back in Rage's direction. "I'd still like to get away from the arcade," he reasoned. "Let's go somewhere... private."
The way he said the last word made Rage uncomfortable, but he followed him anyway, to another plaza...
-.
"Are we far away enough yet?" Rage moaned, only a minute or two later. "Do you even know the way back?"
"I can still see the arcade from here," Zero pointed out. "But we can stop here."
"All right." Rage waited for Zero to face him again, ready to give his friend his undivided attention. "What's going on with you?"
Straight and to the point, as Zero would've expected. He couldn't believe he was about to talk about... feelings, but he knew there was no way out of Rage's incessant nagging. He looked at a building wall and placed one hand in his pocket, avoiding eye contact. Zero realized it was hard to piece together a set of words that he could never quite form for himself...
"If you truly hate being alive... should you be permitted to die?"
Rage's eyes widened and his heart nearly stopped. "H-hey, Zero, you're not thinking about-"
"This isn't about me."
Rage let out a deep sigh. "Don't do that. Start from the beginning; who's this about?"
"There was a patient at the hospital. He was admitted after putting too much stress on his body after having lifelong complications with his health. He was forced into a life-altering operation that would render him unable to participate in school as before, but avoiding the operation could have been fatal otherwise. He told me about how he hated the life he lived."
"He wanted you to kill him?"
"Not quite. He asked me to let him die."
"And you said no, right?"
"I didn't answer his question."
"You should've said no."
"Why?"
Rage scratched his head. "Well, you said it yourself: he needed the operation. It's your job to make him better."
Zero supported himself by leaning his shoulder against the building next to him while he crossed his arms. "I don't think he feels we made him better." His eyes then observed the rough surface of the bricks beside him.
"But you helped him live, right?"
"… Yeah, but you're missing the point."
"I don't like his point. I mean, I'd be really mad if I got hurt and couldn't play DDR anymore," Rage tried to sympathize, "but would I leave behind Emi and the others just 'cause I couldn't play? No way. That kid's gotta have friends of his own who don't wanna see him go. Maybe his parents are his friends." Rage paused and looked down. "You might be upset now, but... would you be able to live with yourself if you... let him die?" Uttering words about death seemed to hurt Rage, and he was suddenly beginning to understand the depth of Zero's problem.
Zero leaned his head against the wall. "… I don't know," he muttered angrily. He tried to push his guilt from his mind. "But... you're right." His eyes lowered as if looking down on himself. "It's my job. This matter is trivial, and it doesn't matter that-"
"Hey, that's not it either. Nobody likes a doctor who doesn't care about people." A light beamed in his head, and the seemingly right words popped into his brain. "Yeah... you might feel really bad now, but that's what makes you a good doctor."
At least, they sounded right to Rage. Zero felt differently. He faced away from Rage, leaning the other side of his head against the building, pondering his words. For what did it matter that Zero cared? That kid was still going to live a miserable life because of what the hospital did. Because Zero helped them do it.
"I'm still at fault."
Rage walked a little closer. "At fault for what? It's your fault for giving a crap? Yeah, that is your fault. At least someone... gave something for him. You gave him more time to have friends and other people who are gonna care. You did a good thing, helping him out. So don't blame yourself like it's a bad thing." He placed a hand on Zero's shoulder.
It sent a surprise through his body that made its way into his throat.
Zero choked and gasped simultaneously. Now what? Was he really...? In front of Rage?
"I think you've said enough," he muttered, finding it hard to speak. "Now leave me alone."
Surprisingly, and maybe even to Zero's disappointment, his wish was granted. Rage let go and wandered off.
Zero sat on the ground where he was. He brought his knees in front of him, and then he dropped his head into the palms of his hands while his silver bangs covered his face. He was too overwhelmed by thoughts to truly feel guilty; rather, he was some inexplicably describable form of "upset." It had been a while since he let his negative emotions take over... Maybe it had been too long. His weakened spirit only wanted to give into those feelings, and he thought if he stopped arguing against his own emotions, they might go away.
Someone touched him on the back. Zero leaned away and looked at its source.
Rage had come back... with... toilet paper?
"It was free and... I can't help but notice you've got a ton of eye makeup to take care of."
Zero hesitated, confused, before he snatched the tissue from Rage's hands. He resumed his huddled position. "I told you to leave me alone."
"And I told you we were a team," he said, tugging his friend's jacket so that he rocked back and forth. "We're sticking together."