"I was wondering, if there's a reason for someone that can't contribute to even exist."

Number 21's words cut through you like the sharp knife you keep against your chest. You know this feeling, you've seen it in your comrades before so many times, and particularly in Lily.

It is not fear to die, it's fear of being a burden for being too weak, for not being able to fight for their own life, just because of the way they had been made and programmed.

You don't know Scanner models, never seen one before her, but you can guess that she's been made to be nothing more than an assistant and informer for her companions, she is not a fighter, she had no combat abilities.

But you know, you know that she is not weak. You've seen it first hand when she saved Lily, managing to get that damn virus that killed so many of you through sheer intelligence and skill.

None of the people you've met in this long time you've been active was ever able to do such a thing, she's unique.

"Your strength lies elsewhere." you simply reply, and you mean it, because it is true, and you want her to know that too.

She is clutching her visor to her chest, she isn't wearing it right now, and you just can see how unsure her blue eyes look. Reminds you of when you first met, closing herself off whenever any of your too exuberant companions invaded her personal space.

She's been getting better, she regained confidence whenever providing useful data was needed, she was in her element then, but that shyness of hers is ever present.

It is part of being a non-combat model, you assume. To be scared, to be afraid of what is around you knowing you don't possess the strength to face it alone.

But you don't want her to feel that way.

"You're part of our family now, we will protect you, you can trust us." you can trust me. But you don't voice that thought.

You and your companions protected Lily for years and years, and she too didn't know how to fight, but with time and patience, you taught her, so if anything, you can also teach her too when this would be all over.

She doesn't have to count only on her fellow YoRHa friends anymore.

You and them are very much alike, you think, recalling for a moment how when you pointed your knife at her, and how her friends immediately jumped to her defense.

You didn't think she was worth anything, even less than the other three androids at her side when you met. She'd been quick to change your mind, showing you just how much she was capable of when the situation got dire.

Again, if it hadn't been for her then Lily wouldn't be here.

And you're grateful, so grateful that you've met her.

You long to show her just how much you owe her, and to have her know how much she can place her faith in you.

So you offer her a hand, encouraging her to take it, and to follow you.

She hesitates a moment, but then her white gloves close around your own. You struggle to keep your pace slow, as you lead her inside the camp and where you sleep.

You're more eager than you thought, it has been a while after all. Perhaps you are just longing that much to feel some kind of loving contact too, not that you'd admit that.

You just hope she won't turn you down.

But if she did, you wouldn't insist, because certain things are meant to be done between people that trusted each other, and you wanted her to trust you with anything, including not pushing her to do something she doesn't want.

You don't want to mess things up.

When the door closes, you two are alone in your room, you take a moment to place a hand to her cheek, a small blush appears on her face, and her eyes can't seem to be able to settle on you, but she doesn't push you away.

As if she already knows, and probably does. She is smart after all.

Standing on your tiptoes you finally join your lips with hers, yours are chapped and ruined from years of battles, hers are soft and untouched. The first kiss is nothing major, there's barely any contact between your mouths, just something small to let her know your intentions.

Then you kiss her again, properly this time, have her feel you.

At first there isn't an actual response, it's just you pecking at her lips, until you feel her try to respond to you, small things, at her own pace, but it is something that tells you that she hasn't said a complete no to your show of trust.

She hasn't refused.

You sneak a hand behind her head, feeling those soft brownish red hair of hers, pulling her closer towards you, encouraging her. Your tongue invades her mouth, and she lets you do just that, a soft sigh escapes you.

However the strain in your legs remind you that you're still on your tiptoes, mentally cursing your short height and the heels she wears too, you part ways.

Her lips are still slightly parted and her cheeks an adorable shade of red, her blue eyes finally settle on you, half closed, almost sleepy. She's so cute you just wish to devour her face with your lips again.

But first, you want to know something.

"Are you okay with this?" you ask her in a whisper, she seems conflicted for a moment, but nods at you. After all, you'd never hurt her.

Your hand moves to brush some hair behind her ear. "You can stop me anytime." you tell her, but without letting you say more, she's the one that comes to you this time, kissing your cheek, to let you know she'll be fine.

You can't resist the temptation as you turn your head just enough to meet your lips with hers again, just before she can pull away from you.

There's more vigor in her motions, though she still hesitates at times, and you can't help but think at how adorable this part of her is. You are used to seeing confidence from your comrades most of the time, even in this kind of thing, that you forgot how it feels to be more considerate than usual, because your partner needs you to be.

Wouldn't hurt to slow down a bit for a change, you think, as you wrap your arms around the small of her back, pulling her even closer, her own hands found their way on your own back too, clutching at your cape behind your shoulders.

She pulls at it and the hood falls from your head but you couldn't care less, it'll soon have to go, along with the rest of your clothes, and hers. You can help but be eager to find out how she looks, and if her skin is as soft under your touch as her face feels.

You're still kissing when you drag her with you towards where your bed is. Turning her around, you gently push her on the mattress so she's sitting down and you're straddling her.

You've never been a bottom anyways.

When you part ways again you get rid of your cape first, in one swift motion it falls from your shoulders somewhere on the ground, before resuming what you were doing before, this time attacking her neck.

She tilts her head to allow you to nip at what little is visible of her skin, but with a noise of pure irritation, you bite the fabric of her dress that is covering everything. So you raise your head again, staring in those two pools of blue like the sky.

You know it, she knows it, her dress has to go.

With a small nod she raises her hands towards the zipper, but your own hands stop her. You take them into yours, removing her white gloves first, then yours, before moving towards the back of her neck to tug the damned thing down, her hands linger on top of yours for a moment as you do just that.

The zipper is lowered just enough to expose her neck so you may continue where you left off, for her sake you want to savor the moment, and you want her to do so as well.

No need to rush, you'll take her clothes off little by little.

You drag your tongue on her neck, and you can swear you felt her breath itch just a little, and then again once you sink your teeth in it, you bite but not hard enough to hurt.

You do that again and again, from the column of her neck to her shoulder, trying to gauge another reaction, maybe a sound. Nothing comes, just her breath being more labored than before.

No rush though, and no disappointment either. After all you're not opposed to quiet partners, you like to know that they want to let you know their sounds are for you alone, no one else can hear.

She truly is a change of pace from your usually loud and sometimes way too eager companions. Not that you're complaining.

Still with your mouth on her neck, you decide that it isn't enough, as you tug the zipper again down to the line of her belt, meeting no resistance, surprised to see no other garment underneath. She helps you shrug her out from the top part, taking off her sleeves, exposing her lithe arms.

As she does the dress pools around her stomach and hips as the belt is still there untouched, and for you to see are her full breasts, not too big but still a healthy amount, more than yours for sure.

Caught from a sudden wave of shyness, she covers herself with her arms, her cheeks painting themselves with that adorable blush of hers. You wonder if she feels too uncomfortable but remains silent.

Perhaps it would be better if you too started showing some skin, to make things equal between you two. And so you do, quickly taking off your jacket and whatever is in it, and then your shirt, and next is your undershirt, but as you grab onto the hem of it to throw it away her hands are upon yours again.

She wants to be the one undressing you, just like you did with her. So you let go, allowing her to do whatever she desires.

This is for her, you keep telling yourself.

She takes her time to take off your clothes, deciding to drag her hands along your sides as she does, feeling your abs and brushing your own chest, little curious thing she is. You can't help but sigh as her fingers stop to play a little with your nipple, teasing you.

Finally your own top part is bare for her to see, and you think it was about time to reverse the roles again, as you push her down on the mattress so she's lying down adding a gentle kiss of reassurance.

Once she's settled, you nuzzle the valley of her breasts, brushing your lips against that softness, and your hands busy themselves with the intricate laces of her belt, trying to loosen in, cursing again whoever made YoRHa dresses so complicated.

She seems to sense your trouble, as once again her hands come to your aid, helping you undo the laces one by one more swiftly than you'd have ever done.

You reward her of course, dragging your tongue over one pink nipple of hers, before taking it into your mouth, while your hands, no longer busy with her damn clothing for the time being, rise up, caressing her flat stomach, one goes to fondle the breast you are already latched on, and the other to the one left on its own, only for just a little more though. While hers busy themselves with caressing your back.

You gently squeeze, feeling just how soft she truly is. Whoever created her made it well.

As your fingers come to tease the other nipple, brushing and playing with it, your ears catch an interesting sound, a small soft sigh escapes her, and you can't do anything else but pride yourself for that.

You smile against her chest, hoping that sound wouldn't be the only one of the night. You nuzzle her again, hearing yet another different thing this time, a gentle hum coming from her chest.

Her black box, her heartbeat so to say. It's strangely comforting.

You can feel her legs move, squirming under you, as you keep your attention on her chest, relinquishing in its softness, but the way she moves as her thighs keep rubbing against one another, tells you that it's enough playing, she wants more.

And you don't want to keep her waiting much longer don't you?

She doesn't say anything but emphasizes the point as her hands tug at the hem of your pants, wanting them gone just as much as you want whatever is left of her dress covering her gone too.

You let her play along first though, as you kick your shoes off so she may take your pants off you, reminding you that she is still wearing those damn heels that gave you so much trouble before. Regardless, your clothes disappear first, even your shorts, into the pile of discarded things that for now are only your own.

Though not for long still.

You can see her blush as she finally witnesses you naked before her, and you decide it is about time to see her entirely the way she was made too. With a wicked grin you make your way down her legs with your hands, stopping a moment to squeeze her thigh, even as a non-combat model she has a decent amount of muscles to her.

She raises her legs, aiding you in taking off those boots you would have glared at moments before, her socks go next. Feeling naughty, you slip your hands beneath her skirt and into the frilly undergarment she wears under it, feeling her backside, and then slipping a hand at the front. You can feel the wetness seeping through.

She squirms again at your motion, wanting you to be done with games already. You giggle at her eagerness when she'd been so shy before, but you decide to give in, and the last of her clothing leaves her body, and her dress joins the pile on the floor.

Was about time it did.

You spend a moment admiring her in all of her naked glory, you watch her face redden almost as dark as her hair that are now all messy around her head, as you stare at her lithe body and pale skin. She's so pretty you feel so lucky to have been blessed to see her this way.

You lower yourself on her, searching her lips with yours another time, whispering to her just how gorgeous she looks.

Your hands slip lower, tracing her stomach and moving downwards, her breath hitches as your fingers tease her lower lips, parting them slightly, your other hand encourages her to open her legs so you can settle between them.

You move your fingers just a bit above her entrance, rubbing the little bundle of nerves in slow circles, you feel the vibrations of her quiet hums from her neck, as you nip at it again. So you keep touching her wanting to drag those sounds out of her again and again, steadily increasing your pace, but not too much, you don't want this to end too soon.

Her legs twitch around you, her hands grasp at the sheets as you slip a finger inside her, holding your palm against her clit. She's so wet you meet no resistance even though she's so tight you're unsure a second finger can even fit in. You no longer have any doubts that she's entirely inexperienced, and you pride yourself that she accepted you as her first.

A long drawn out moan escapes her as your finger explores her most sacred place, and you think it is one of the most beautiful sounds you had the blessing to hear tonight.

But you want even more of them.

She writhes under you as you continue working on giving her pleasure, your free hand comes to take one of hers, your fingers entwined, as you lower yourself to leave a reassuring kiss to her cheek.

Her face has the most adorable look right now, her cheeks are flushed and red, lips slightly parted as her breath comes out in uneven gasps, her blue eyes half closed from pleasure staring into your own green ones, red hair messy and sprawled on your pillow now that she doesn't even have her headband anymore. It must have fallen off her head sometime before, but you can't bring yourself to care about it right now.

Your only thought is about pleasing her, to tell her she can trust you, and showing her love in a way she never had occasion to experience before.

Because she deserves all of it.

Unconsciously she has begun to move against your hand on her own accord, her legs closing around you, trapping you between them, but it is just where you want to be right now.

She's breathing harder now, occasionally letting out some small moans with it, her movements have become more frantic, and you just know that she must be close, but she doesn't know how to tell you how to help her out.

Though you don't need to be told, you have enough experience to tell certain things just from body language, so your hand moves faster, you've been keeping your pace slow for the sake of letting her adjust to the feeling. No need for that anymore, she wouldn't be desiring more if she wasn't comfortable with it.

And more you give her. You give and give until it's too much, and she comes undone, shaking and trembling under you, eyes screwed shut and moaning out your name.

Now that is what you love to see and hear.

Her legs release you, they are still a little shaky you notice, as she rides out the waves of her very first orgasm. Your fingers leave her core to gently caress her thigh, while with the other you stroke her cheek.

She seems relaxed, content. This is actually the first time you've seen an actually serene expression from her you think. You like to see that.

She must be tired, but still she reaches for you, now her hands are on your legs, and as you feel them you are reminded that your own needs have been neglected, the familiar and almost painful ache between your legs is hard to ignore any longer, now that you're not focusing on her anymore, and she knows it.

Inexperienced she may be, but she's always a clever one.

And that is why her hands are now moving towards your needy place, though she still seems unsure on how to help you, but she's determined, and something tells you that she won't let you use your hands to fix the issue.

She wants to do that herself, just like you did to her.

So you guide her hands at the right spot, shamelessly groaning as her fingers make contact with your clit. She imitates what you did, keeping things slow, but you're already so close you can't wait, so you encourage her to move her fingers faster and harder than what you've done with her.

She answers your desires and before you know it you become a moaning mess, unnecessary loud too for your tastes, but she has to know she's doing a good job.

And you let her know it all right, when you almost growl her name when your own orgasm hits you, and it hits hard.

Tired and exhausted, you slump against her chest, feeling the sound of her black box against your ear another time, as she tangles her fingers in your short black locks, waiting for you to recover.

Your green eyes meet her blue ones once more, she's struggling to keep them open just like you are. You are both spent yet somehow you still find the strength to pull the covers over you both, moving over just a little so there's space on your bed for two, and you're able to hold her in your arms.

"Thank you…" she smiles at you, her voice barely a whisper.

It is the last thing you hear before succumbing to the need to rest.


When you wake up again, she's no longer there.

It takes you a moment to realize this isn't even the same bed, that this had been only a distant memory of the past. She had actually stayed that time, as you recall looking at how serene she looked while she slept when you woke up first.

The first and only time you had experienced together.

On your nightstand you spot your trusty pistol, that same weapon you used to end her life before the logic virus could take her away with it like she asked you to. You remembember how red her eyes were and yet, a little of her had remained until the end.

It had been the very last time you saw her smile.

You take the gun, holding it against your chest, this thing symbol of an unkept promise that you'd join her in death. Who knows for how long it will be that way still?

Would she still be waiting then?

Silently you make her way to the window, where you can see the entire camp starting the day. Your eyes land on the pair of YoRHa androids that recently showed up to your place.

2B and 9S.

The female reminds you so much of Number 2 in the way she looks, she's the reason why you've been having more frequent dreams about your fallen comrades, and her fallen comrades too.

Number 21 had been Number 2's companion before she'd been yours after all.

You would not forget her, you would not forget any of them, ever. You can't.

But, as you descend towards your post, you spot the archives around it.

Your story, their story, should not be forgotten, none of you will be forgotten even when you will eventually leave this cruel life. You'll make sure there will be someone else to tell the story in your place when you are gone.

And so, you write.