A/N: R-2's POV. And apparently even though I'm done with this story, it's like a bad relationship and I just can't let it go.
Today I am Four. Four is a good number. Four is Vexen's number, but I've never met numbers one two or three. Unless you count me and R-1. He's one, I'm two. R-2. But Vexen is just IV, Four, not R-4. Not a replica of Riku. Will he make an R-3? Then we will be one two three four.
Four is the best day, because today I get to come out of the Tank~! No more orange and bubbles and syrupiness, I get to be out in the real world with R-1 and talk and dance with no wires—!
"Hold still, Two," Vexen mumbles through a frown, but I can't can't stay still, I'm in the real air, I've never been in real air before but R-1 told me in my mind and he's right it's so light and fluffy I love air~
"I love air," I tell Vexen, with my mouth-words, not mind-words like how I talk to R-1. I've never used my mouth-words before, but it feels good and I like it. "I love air and words and you Vexen and R-1 and this lab and smells and wait no it smells kinda funny but I like it no orange syrup in my nose yay~"
Vexen sighs for some reason and shakes his head. "Zexion, I told you not to meddle with the personality data…"
"Zexion! That's right! I love Zexion too!" I turn to where the short one is staring, just with one eye. Does he have another eye under his hair? I try to run over to peek under and see, but Vexen holds me still.
"You are a replica, Two. You cannot 'love' anything." Vexen dries me off with a fluffy towel while he talks. But why does he say that? That's not very nice. But Vexen's smart, so I don't argue.
"Okay," I pout. Zexion's still staring. He does that a lot; a wonder if he needs to blink. Now that I'm not in the Tank, I have to blink. Blink. Blink. Blinking's fun too. "I love blin—" Oh. I don't love blinking. Oh well.
"I can assure you, Vexen, I did not 'meddle' with anything. You made it quite clear that this is your experiment. Though I still fail to see why we need another Riku replica; the first is preforming remarkably well."
Vexen glares. Are they fighting? Is this what fighting looks like? I wish R-1 was awake so I could mind-ask him, but he had training already today, and he says training makes him sleepy. "You may be a prodigy, Zexion, but do not underestimate what I've learned from experience. It's the basic scientific method; no experiment can be considered valid unless it is successfully repeated. We must be certain our method is perfect before we begin No. i."
"Fair enough," Zexion concedes, "but the Superior will not wait long while you play with your prototypes."
He sweeps out of the room before I can peek under his hair. I'll have to try again later; Vexen still won't let me go.
"Hmph. Still barely a child, assuming he can criticize my life's work…" I don't like Vexen frowning. Maybe I can make him happy.
"I like you're life's work," I tell him and grin. "Uh, what's your life's work?"
It works; he smiles at me, yay! "It is no less than the creation of life. Beings that can subsist on the memories of others, with no hearts of their own. Safe from the plague of the Heartless."
I stare, blink. I'm only Four, I don't get all of it yet.
"You, Two," he clarifies impatiently. "You and One. Beings made from memories, with no hearts."
I grin. I love grinning. "Me? Really?"
He turns away, I can't see if he's smiling again. Aww. "Yes. Now come, Two. It is time you met One."
"Oh, but I have met One." I adjust the towel over my shoulders, it's soft and fluffy on my skin, and not heavy like the orange syrup. "He mind-talks to me. So we wouldn't be lonely."
Vexen spins around, I didn't know he could move that fast. "Mind-talks? As in telepathy?"
"Tell-a-what?" My eyebrows scrunch. R-1 did say that Vexen likes big words.
"Nevermind." He shakes his head. "I must run diagnostics immediately—there is no precedent—"
"So… what do I do?" I ask; he's already shuffling away so fast, and my legs don't know how to walk much yet without him supporting me. I have to sit down.
"Here." He quickly tosses me a paper and some highlighters that were lying on a file cabinet. The paper has some funny graphs on it; I don't know what they mean. "Entertain yourself; I will send Lexaeus momentarily."
He's gone before I can tell him thank you. Frowning, I pop the lid off of a pink highlighter. My brain was programmed to know the word 'highlighter,' but R-1 never said it before. I'm not sure what it does.
I touch the tip of it… and my finger is pink! This 'highlighter'… it makes things change color!
"Haha!" I laugh, holding it in my fist and making a bright streak across the back of the paper. "I love highlighters! They make colors! I love colors!"
But it's not just pink, there's purple, blue, green, yellow, even orange like the tank… "COLORS!"
I make the paper beautiful. All the colors, all mixing together, loving each other. Can colors love? I'm not supposed to, but I don't know if Vexen's right, because looking at these colors, I think that feels like love. But maybe I don't know. I am only Four days old.
But Four is a good day. I love Four.
