Birthdays were strange.
The day she was born had never struck Zero Two as anything special.
Really, how could it?
She had never cared enough to learn the details, but forgive her if she was less than interested in how Doctor Franxx had pulled her out of an incubation tube or whatever.
It was disgusting.
It was unnatural.
Forged from stolen DNA and the blood and flesh of a lunatic scientist.
Why would she ever put any significance on the day she was brought into the world by a complete and utter maniac?
...however ...there's something strange about how the members of Squad Thirteen talk about their birthdays.
As if they were days to be celebrated, and in the case of Zorome, to tout about as some form of superiority over being born earlier than others. (Delusions of grandeur, that one.)
But Zero Two has never been one to shy away from celebration, especially if it meant she could get an entire cake to herself.
That's how it worked, yes?
She supposes she would share some with her darling, but the concept itself still seemed so strange.
To celebrate entering a world as dark as their own? To distinguish such a day with so much happiness? It was a bizarre experience.
Not that this Squad was the first or anything, although they do seem the most zealous of all.
She could remember dozens of other squads from dozens of other plantations that also celebrated their birthday, just never before with such enthusiasm.
It was an energy she felt eager to match. Even Ikuno and Mitsuru seemed to get in on the festivities, and how could she ever resist anything that made her darling smile so brightly.
Still… it made her think.
The day one was born…?
The earliest memories of her life were less than pleasant.
Dark lonely rooms.
A cold steel table that only meant pain and suffering.
Being pushed and pulled and prodded at like some kind of animal, some beast to be tamed.
What kind of life was that? Why would anyone want to celebrate the day such suffering began?
But then she catches her darling's eyes.
And the love that shines in them whenever he catches hers.
It creates a warmth deep in her chest that never quite goes away, a warmth that she would be happy to bask in for the rest of her life.
She does have a birthday, now that she thinks about it.
She remembers it well.
An empty room, high above the ground, with windows showing nothing but the blinding white sky.
And the shattering of glass.
A little boy, with so much care and concern in his eyes it had blinded her more than any amount of sun and snow ever could.
Freezing wind, and...
And an outstretched hand.
A warm smile.
Yes, she did have a birthday, now that she thought about it.
If there had been any moment her life had begun, it would have to be that one.