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When X stepped forward and encircled his arms around Zero—he had a surprisingly strong grip on Zero's back for such a small robot—the red Hunter immediately froze up, defensive, uncomfortable, and confused. What was this? A show of aggression? X firmly anchored himself onto Zero, holding him there, preventing any mobility on Zero's part. This state left Zero vulnerable. Zero didn't want to be vulnerable. Vulnerable meant danger. Vulnerable meant death.
As it were, Zero himself had once performed an action very similar to the one X currently had him locked down in. Lunging at Vile, seizing his Ride Armor, clutching fingers desperately into the grooves of the machinery to keep himself from being thrown off, preparing to make the ultimate sacrifice for X, so that X might live and fight on.
To any outsiders looking in, Zero's decision on that day probably seemed reckless and hasty, but it was a simple matter of statistics. Trying to ensure X's survival had been the correct path. X's survival equaled the greatest chance of defeating Sigma and stopping the Maverick uprising. After all, it had worked, right? X went on to become the hero and save the day. Zero's gamble had paid off exactly as it was meant to.
Would you have done that for any other ally?
...Of course, if I believed that ally could complete the mission.
Following a brief stint with death, Zero was now reassembled, new and improved, bigger, stronger, faster, and perhaps most impressive of all, sporting shiny new shoulder guards. Zero had yet to hear the full story of his miraculous recovery, but he knew enough to understand that X had willingly put himself on the line, walking into the most obvious trap in all of human and reploid history, in order to recover Zero's body parts from the enemy. Zero couldn't rationalize X acting like such a fool. The logical solution would have been to simply destroy Zero's IC chip. The Mavericks could have assembled ten million different bodies for Zero until the damn cows came home, and it would have made no difference without a brain to put inside them. If X was smart, he would have just—
X is smart.
Then why would he ever do something so dangerous? Fight when he didn't have to? He could have died!
Would he have done that for any other ally?
I... I'm sure he would, but...
So Zero confronted X, full of self-righteousness and suspicion. Zero wanted some answers, needed to understand why in the world X had done that, why his decisions had been so compromised. Surely someone must have told X he was making the wrong choice? Had X simply refused to listen? Had X considered the consequences at all? X was the commander of a whole military organization now! He couldn't just rush in with busters blazing like some kind of Mega Man!
And that exact confrontation was what earned Zero their current predicament: X's arms squeezed around him, and Zero standing as stiff as a board. Every instinct in Zero's body screamed at him throw the enemy off you. But X wasn't an enemy. Something small but insistent at the back of Zero's head reminded Zero who X was. Comrade, not an enemy. It could very well have been complete ignorance and naïvety on Zero's part, but somehow, Zero just couldn't imagine that X would actually hurt him, no matter how bizarre this gesture seemed.
“X... what are you doing?” Zero whispered, hoping he didn't sound nearly as tense as he felt.
X sighed deeply. Zero almost thought he could feel X's breath tingle against the front of his chest plate. But no, that was silly. “I'm hugging you.”
A hug. The act of holding another person in your arms, typically to express affection. Zero had observed this behavior in humans before, but never in reploids. Then again, as far as reploids were concerned, X seemed to be in a class of his own. If Zero didn't know any better, sometimes he would swear that X was secretly a human wearing a reploid shell. Dr. Cain liked to call X's irregular conduct his "little quirks." Since meeting and befriending X, Zero had been on the receiving end of these "little quirks" every so often, but never quite like this.
“I don't understand,” Zero admitted. “Why?”
“Because... because I want to keep you safe, I suppose,” X murmured.
“Keep me safe?” Now Zero was completely lost. “Keep me safe from what? We're at HQ. There should be no danger here. But even if there was danger, this would be just about the worst possible position for us to be in, with your back turned and me unable to move.”
Zero's words caused X to laugh, which was something Zero always hated. It made him feel stupid and inadequate, like X was processing data in a way that Zero could never hope to understand or match. “Not that kind of safety. It's not really a physical thing,” X tried to explain.
“What are you talking about?” Zero asked again, his voice tense. Zero was honestly ready to shove X aside and be done with it, but Zero's anger immediately vanished once X raised his head, soft green eyes meeting his own sharp blue.
Those eyes halted Zero's ventilation right in its tracks.
“Pain, fear, sadness, regret... I want to keep you safe from all of those things, but mostly from being alone.” X's forehead gem found the crook of Zero's neck, and somehow X's hug became even tighter. “You're not alone. You're alive, Zero, and I'm here now. I just... I want you to feel me for a little while.”
I want you to feel me.
How could such simple words from X's mouth always manage to leave a profound impact on Zero? It was like the blue Hunter had some hidden power over him—some ability to manipulate Zero into thinking, feeling, saying, doing things that in any other situation would seem totally wrong, and yet with X it was...
Zero just couldn't act like a mature, responsible reploid around this guy.
I want X to feel me too.
Zero briefly considered asking X what he should do, considered asking X for guidance, but Zero's body moved of its own accord with pure instinct. Zero hugged his best friend. One arm around X's waist, the other around X's shoulders, cradling the side of X's helmet tenderly. Logic circuits dictated to Zero that there was absolutely no reason for this. What humans called a "hug" held no beneficial properties for reploids whatsoever. This strange action between the two of them served no function that Zero could determine, and yet some deeper part of Zero stubbornly decided that it was pleasant. It was calming to hold X and to be held in return. Impractical, but undeniably calming. Undeniably it was...
“Z-Zero... kinda crushing me...”
Oh. Zero loosened his grip, but he kept X at arm's length, frowning down at him with concern. “Did I do it wrong?”
X laughed once again, but this time, Zero didn't feel upset by it. “Actually, you did it perfectly.”
“Really? ...Um, X, do you want to repeat this activity in the future? You know, in case of...” Zero lost his train of thought, which was embarrassing, but he was completely taken in by the absolute warmth of X's smile. A weaker man would crumble under that smile.
“Anytime you need, Zero,” X said softly, and so very genuine.
Zero never got his answer about why X had acted so irrationally, but perhaps X himself didn't even know. Perhaps it didn't even matter anymore. X had to rush off, citing important duties as the commander he needed to take care of. He bid Zero goodbye, promising to come see him later, turned on his boot and walked away. As Zero watched X leave, Zero touched over the center of his chest plate, just above his pulsing core. They were no longer together, but...
I wonder... How come I can still feel you right here, X?