A/N: Rolo~ ;_; Pretty much all I can say.
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own~
apathy
Rolo never wonders about the sun or the moon or the endless rotation of seasons, of the passing of winter into spring to summer. It is simply there. None of it especially effects how he kills; murder is easier under the cloak of the night, less suspicious, but suicides can happen any time. He never wonders why the blood on his hand stays there and congeals underneath his fingernails, or why it mats his brown hair together, or why warm bodies grow cold. Nor does he ever give thought to emotions. They don't really mean anything. No matter what someone feels or thinks, no matter what they have planned for the next day or what they did yesterday or who they love, they all die.
The sciences never interested him. It was in the sake of science, of ambition, V.V. told him, that he existed. That tubes and machines were plugged into him every other week. He was made by it, born from it; just as much of a machine as the ones that scanned his ligaments and bones. The only difference was that they weren't alive, and he was— whatever that meant.
Apathy, his files said. No one made any effort to conceal them from him. There were lists of disorders, either delight or disturbance as the reactions of his superiors, but he didn't care. He could slick on a smile when needed, frown or laugh, even when the words caught in his throat. He never thought, is this wrong? or why? Rolo did ask V.V. what apathy meant, and the other had told him to look it up.
He did. A state of indifference, the book said. A noun. Ap-a-thy. He closed it and looked at the cover, and did not ask himself if this meant he was disposable, if this meant he was apathy defined. After all, he never felt anything— would that mean that apathy was the absence of emotion, like darkness was the absence of light or cold of heat? He'd even been numbed to pain.
It didn't matter. None of it did.
(It took him a long, long time to understand that you could never completely erase a body's functions, unlike the memory of a machine, for as he looked at Lelouch, he felt something.)
A/N: I had so much trouble writing the middle part, but I don't think it's too bad.
Feedback appreciated~!