Work Text:
She’s gotten used to blood by now. The sight of it, the smell, the stains it leaves behind. Blood trickling down in rivulets, blood bursting out of bullet wounds, blood she can’t scrub completely from under her fingernails no matter how hard she tries.
Eventually she stopped trying.
There’s more blood every day, and she has no choice but to let it seep into the very fiber of her skin, just as she has no choice in pulling the trigger, over and over again.
So why is it that when she sees a small cut on his forehead, she immediately looks around for supplies to clean and dress his wound?
Laughter.
She tenses up, because it’s never a good thing when Zero laughs.
“Are you ready for today’s assignment?”
She has no choice but to be ready. She nods.
“Not you. Number 14.”
That confuses her. He (she won’t call him by that number, even when she can barely recall the name he once gave her) doesn’t receive assignments. He doesn’t even go into the outside world, not anymore.
He turns his head, acknowledging Zero but nothing more.
“Number 14. Violate her.”
She thought she’d gone completely numb long ago. But somewhere, deep in her gut, an old emotion flickers to life.
Fear.
“Do it,” Zero says casually, “or I will do it instead.”
He surges toward her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her protectively. They both know Zero doesn’t make idle threats.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, as she meets his pained gaze. It’s the first lie she’s told him since… since she can remember. “It’s okay,” she repeats, as though saying it again will make him more likely to believe her.
A tear runs down his cheek.
Zero laughs again. “As I thought, number 14. You are too weak to be of service. Too weak to even protect her from my hands.”
She tenses at the implication, and perhaps that’s why he pushes her down onto the floor so roughly she almost hits her head.
Quickly, desperately, he gropes at her, pulling aside clothing when possible, but it’s as though he doesn’t quite know what to do. She winces as he squeezes her breasts almost mechanically, nails scraping against her hip as her underwear is yanked off and thrown aside.
Zero laughs again, the sound harsh through the mechanical voice modifier. “Try to make it good. She is, after all, our most precious executor.”
Her stomach drops. Zero has spoken of her with endearments before, usually after she’s done something particularly unforgivable on Adonis's orders, but this is the first time Zero has called her most precious.
Not for the first time, she wonders who Zero is. Not that it matters, not at this point, not at the end of everything, but more than once Zero has said or done something to suggest having known her long before this.
She has a suspicion. A horrible suspicion, one she’s almost blocked out of her mind.
But there is one person she’s yet to be told to kill.
“Ah, that’s right, number 14. You’ve never touched a woman before, have you? I thought perhaps… but it doesn’t seem like it. Ichika.”
Her head snaps around to face Zero automatically. She's been trained well enough.
“Tell him what you like. At least you have experience.”
Her face burns. How does Zero know that?
His hands tighten on her hips, and she sees him swallow visibly. Nevertheless, he brings his face close to hers so she can whisper into his ear.
She swallows down her humiliation. It’s better to obey Zero’s orders than be tortured for defiance again.
And at least… at least it’s him, of all people. Him who she might have welcomed in happier times, and in privacy.
“Breasts,” she manages. “Start there.”
His touch is gentle this time. He strokes her breasts almost cautiously, then leans down to kiss between them, a gesture that confuses her.Then quite suddenly, he licks her nipple.
She shudders despite herself, a response she’s sure does not go unnoticed. But perhaps it’s for the best. If Zero wants it “good” they two of them will have to put on a show that won’t be boring.
Try not to think about that.
He tilts his head inquisitively, as if to say, was that good enough? Slowly, she nods.
Either his instincts are good, or this is something he researched, long ago.
She bites her lip as he licks at her nipple again, lightly sucking on it. Under the circumstances, it’s not enough to arouse her, but at least it makes her feel slightly less sick and dead inside.
His hands slide down to stroke her hips, and her eyes begin to fall shut.
Zero’s laughter breaks her out of her reverie, and her eyes snap open.
“Do you love her, Number 14?”
She feels him freeze, his mouth hovering above her belly.
“How amusingly absurd.”
She winces as his nails dig into her sides, but he looks at her instead of Zero, and she reaches to touch his cheek. His cut has begun to bleed a little, and she wishes she could bandage it. Another tear runs down his cheek.
“Number 14. Another order, or I’ll punish you for being so slow. Rip her clothes off.”
In another life, another Ichika might have squealed and desperately tried to cover herself up. Instead, she lies there and stares up at the ceiling as she feels all fabric leave her body.
So that’s why Zero gave me such thin clothes.
“Ichika. Look at him.”
She obeys reluctantly, because she doesn’t want to see the despair in his eyes, doesn’t want to be reminded that he still feels pain even if she doesn’t.
His hands tremble and he lowers his head to her thighs, parting them without resistance. As his tongue touches her, she shivers a little.
He laps at her carefully, like the cat she often thinks he acts like, and slowly she feels his hands grow steadier as he holds her in place. It is… not unpleasant, being explored by his lips and tongue.
For once, Zero is silent, and that helps.
Slowly, she begins to feel a certain distantly familiar warmth.
“Stop.”
He raises his head, though his hands still cradle her thighs as he meets her eyes, and were it not for the chill that Zero’s artificial voice sends down her spine, she could almost believe he did it of his own will.
“Enough stalling. Violate her, now.”
They both know what Zero means.
He lowers his eyes, and as he reaches down to undo his own pants, she looks away, not wanting to see. But knowing if she looks at the ceiling, she’ll just be ordered back to him, instead she looks at Zero.
She can’t fully see Zero's expression with the hood, and she’s glad. There's a smile, as there so often is, and that’s awful enough.
Tears spill down his cheeks as he pushes against her, and the heat of him compared to the cold air is shocking.
Without meaning to, she begins to say, “Shiraish-“
In one painful thrust he’s inside her, and Ichika chokes on the last syllable of the name she once knew him by. He’s done his best to prepare her with his mouth, to relax her so as not to hurt her, but it wasn’t enough.
She’s looking at him now, so she only hears the creak of Zero’s chair, can only assume Zero is leaning forward intently.
“That’s it… endure it well, my precious executor...”
Dully, she wonders if Zero would have found another way to torment them if her suffering wasn’t so visible on her face. Even after all she’s already endured, Zero's still found a new way to torment her.
But why me…?
Nails digging into her wrist bring her back to him. He’s looking at her fiercely, as though to say, stay with me.
She swallows as best she can with her dry throat, and closes her hand around his wrist in turn. He’s hurting too, and it’s better for both of them the sooner they can get through this.
Slowly, he begins to move inside her, and somehow that isn’t as bad, or maybe it’s because they’re looking at each other, breathing in tandem and trying to block out everything else. At least, she is, and she thinks he is too.
He can no longer speak, but she hears his rapid, shallow breathing, sees the emotion welling up in those sad eyes and wonders, how can you still love me after everything I’ve done?
Unwanted tension builds in her lower belly, and she finds her hands balling up into fists as his thrusts get rougher, his movements heavier. She can’t tell if his eyes are glazing over or if it’s just harder to see through his tears, and the horrible thing is that it doesn’t matter, she’s still… she’s feeling something when she’d rather feel nothing at all.
Is Zero laughing, or is that just the sound that echoes in her head when she remembers things she’d rather not remember?
“Shiraishi…”
She doesn’t recognize her voice, but it had to be her voice, because he doesn’t speak and Zero doesn’t use that name, never acknowledges any name but hers, and why is that? Why is that?
Shiraishi is big inside her, bigger than she’s used to, and if it hurts a little, she’s glad for the pain, because it’s the kind of pain she can handle, the kind of pain that sends little shivers down her spine, not the kind that makes her do irrevocable, despicable things just to make it stop, make it stop-
“Did I tell you that you could stop, Number 14?”
He turns, and without his gaze to anchor hurts she is drowning, brought back to the cold floor against her back and the creak of Zero’s chair as Zero leans forward to watch them awkwardly couple in a dirty underground chamber for entertainment. Her face burns with the humiliation of her position.
“Don’t glare at me like that. Aren’t you grateful? I’ve given you both what you desire.”
Not like this.
Never like this.
“But if you insist… I’d be happy to take your place…”
Abruptly he pulls her up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms tightly around her. She shudders at the warmth of his whole body against hers, even as he throbs in her.
Zero laughs. “Remember, Number 14. You belong to her. But she does not belong to you.”
What that means, she’s thankfully spared from contemplating as he thrusts up hard inside her, making her moan before she can think.
It doesn’t hurt anymore, but she hasn’t gone completely numb again yet. No… no, she’s not numb to this at all. More than anything, she realizes, she’s afraid this won’t be enough to keep Zero from carrying out the threat to take her next.
Try to make it good, he said. If… if she pretends this is “good” will Zero be pleased with him?
“Shiraishi…” she whispers, grounding and anchoring herself to him as his fingers dig into the small of her back. On impulse, she kisses him.
The kiss is as clumsy and awkward as everything else they’ve done tonight, but somehow it fills her with more warmth, dampening the fear. He is hers, and she will do whatever is left in her to keep him by her side.
She pulls her mouth back from his just enough to make a soft, breathy noise of encouragement before kissing him again, because everything feels less wrong when they’re kissing.
Slowly, she coaxes him to lie on top of her on the floor, hiding her body from Zero. It’s easier for his hips to move this way too, driving into her with a purpose. Like this… like this she can start to forget. Forget why they started this, forget whose pleasure they continue to exist for, forget everything but flesh against flesh, the ache inside her both intensified and appeased by him filling her up.
“Good…” Is it her imagination, or does Zero’s voice sound a little less artificial? “Make sure she comes, Number 14. We can’t have our most precious executor left unsatisfied.”
He lets out a particularly harsh breath, probably the closest thing to a laugh he has left. It is an absurd request, but whatever he thinks, she will make sure it is fulfilled. That’s what she’s known for now, obeying orders.
So she wraps one leg around his and arches up into his body, gripping his shoulders fiercely as she forces loud exaggerated cries out of her mouth. She half expects Zero to tell her to be quiet, to stop so obviously faking it, but she hears nothing, not even the creak of a chair, and that is encouragement enough.
She feels him shudder against her, his head dipping to kiss her neck, and she aches with the knowledge that in another world, they could have had this on a soft bed, of their own accord.
With the last defiant breath left in her, she moans, “Shiraishi!”
Pleasure shoots through her veins, her body quivering with climax as she clings to him.
Well, there are worse things than to come with the name of the man she loved on her lips, even if it is on a filthy floor with Zero watching every second.
Even if it means just as she relaxes, he pulls out completely and rolls over, frantically bringing himself off and spilling on the floor beside her.
She understands. No children should come of this.
She hears a faint breathing, a strange, sticky noise and realizes it’s Zero, jerking off.
She closes her eyes in disgust.
Someday, she’ll find a way to pull that trigger and silence Zero for good. For true justice.
It won’t bring the dead back to life, won’t even change much of anything, Zero has made sure of that. But it will bring her some small measure of peace, even if that peace simply means death at last.
And next time, she won’t miss.