It's pretty short but the idea popped in my head yesterday and just wouldn't go away so I just had to write it down. It's probably not any good, I'm better at writing humor but oh well.
Discaimer: I don't own IZ, anyone who thinks I do is an idiot. I never understood why people put these up, it's obvious this show isn't owned by anyone on this website but whatever.
Enjoy.
Zim walked across the lawn in silence, carefully avoiding the stones with writing on them that patched the grass in a pattern. It was silent, where he was. It was late at night and no one but him was around. Zim liked it that way, he did not want to come to this place while humans were around. He wanted peace and quiet.
He wanted to be alone when he did this.
Wind blew across the Irken's skin. He shivered. After ten years on Earth, you'd think he'd be used to the regularly changing weather, but he wasn't.
Zim continued to walk, passing each stone with a glance. His brain was focused on one thing.
He finally stopped and looked down at a stone that lay in front of him.
"Dib Membrane, a soldier who died fighting for his country, may he be honored in heaven," Zim read outloud quietly.
Yes, Dib was dead. His sworn enemy was dead.
After school had ended, Dib joined the millitary. He realized Zim was no threat and moved on from his paranormal studies. True, he still wanted to save the world, and what better way than to fight for your country?
It's true, Zim began to miss the days when he had an enemy to battle with. It was, how you say, no fun if the Earth was to be destroyed without a single being knowing about it.
Dib did become a great hero. He fended for his country and stopped many Russians from conquering US land and no longer being a free nation.
Zim never did understand why humans conquered eachother. It was ridiculous after all. Why would someone conquer their own kind? What was that accomplishing? Nevertheless he never cared if Dib was a great hero for his country. To him, he was still Dib. His enemy who tried to stop him from his duty countless times, not to mention annoyed him to no end. Who would of guessed he would actually succeed in doing something great, however? America no longer hated Dib. Now, he was a hero, just like Dib had dreamed of.
It was only three days ago when Zim found out the strange scythe-haired boy was dead.
No, Zim did not feel sad. He did not cry over his worst enemy or suddenly feel an emptiness in the pit of his squeedily-spooch. Yet he still found himself standing in front of the human's grave, fresh dirt buried under his feet, and a flag folded into a triangle lay next to the stone.
Zim looked around, making sure no human was around and that the graveyard was empty. Zim took off the wig and contacts in his eyes. He then wiggled his antennae in salute for the dead human that lay six feet under him.
After a few moments he put his disguise back on and then raised his three-clawed hand up to his forehead in an Earthen salute.
"Good job soldier," he said with a nod and lowered his hand back down before walking away without turning back. His business was done here.
Yes, they were enemies. Nothing more, nothing less. But Zim and Dib both had something in common.
They were both soldiers, fighting for their people.
Zim respected that, and would forever in his days.