Chapter Text
When he saw it, he couldn’t take his eye off it- even in the midst of battle. He pulled up his shield and held back, letting his tatepon counterparts take the lead. The Zigoton archer he was staring at didn’t notice his unwavering gaze neither during the attack nor after the call to retreat. As the other Patapons cheered their victory, he snuck off toward the Zigotons. He wasn’t satisfied. There was no way an archer could get those types of injuries in battle. Was there really someone out there like him? He had to know for sure.
The Patapons never seemed bothered when he was gone, especially during a victory celebration; he didn’t think Kami cared either. For once, though, it was a blessing. Stalking through the shadows and hiding behind bushes, he trailed close behind the group of Zigotons, heart racing. The one of interest straggled along at the back, clutching an arrow in his fist. Fresh blood dripped from his arm. The Tatepon quickly grabbed him from behind and pulled him behind a bush.
The Zigoton let out a yelp of surprise, but the Patapon hushed him. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. See?” He held open his empty hands. Defenseless.
The Zigoton stiffened, trying to keep his injured arm hidden. He looked the Patapon up and down and after seeing the other’s array of scars, he abashedly looked away. “What do you want?” he growled.
The Patapon hadn’t actually thought of what he was going to say in the moment, so he callously asked, “Why do you do that to yourself?”
The Zigoton sputtered at the forwardness. He never expected an intervention, much less from a Patapon. A hypocritical Patapon at that. “W-well why do you?” he retorted.
Letting the obvious deflection slide, the Patapon replied, “I don’t know. I’m sick of only doing what Kami says and I don’t think Earthend means anything anyway. I’m overworked and frustrated and tired. That’s why. Your turn.”
The Zigoton scowled at the ground. “I hate myself. I hate everyone else for being inherently better than me. No matter what I do, something just feels wrong and I don’t understand.” He rubbed the now-scabbed cut on his arm. “This is the only way I can get all this frustration out.”
“I used to be a lot like that, too,” the Patapon sighed wistfully. Sometimes he missed the fiery passion he once had, despite the way it manifested.
The Zigoton looked at him, a slight glint of hope in his eye. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “I got used to all the negative thoughts. New thoughts took their place.”
“Oh. So it doesn’t go away.”
The two leaned their backs against each other and shared a moment of heavy despondency in surprisingly comfortable silence. The sky began to darken, the rays of the setting sun weakly stretching across the sky in an attempt to maintain their presence.
“It’s nice to find someone who finally gets it, y’know?” the Patapon said.
“Is that why you followed me?”
“I had to know if you were the same as me, even though you’re a Zigoton. I guess I thought this whole interaction would be, I don’t know, life changing or something? Not that I regret it or anything, it’s just not how I thought it’d be.”
The Zigoton hummed in response and stared bitterly at the sunset, the subtle beauty lost upon him. The Patapon figured the other must have misinterpreted what he said into something self-deprecating, but he didn’t bother to correct it.
“You ever think about killing yourself?” the Zigoton asked abruptly, a dead expression on his face.
“That’s why I stay in the front lines,” the Patapon chuckled, unwilling to admit he was too much of a coward to actually go through with it. “Hasn’t seemed to work, though. Eventually, maybe.”
“I’m conflicted about it. I’m scared to die alone. No one would care enough to be there, nor would anyone miss me if I never returned.”
“I’d miss you.”
The Zigoton scoffed. “You barely even know me. You’re just saying that because you’re projecting onto me and that’s what you’d want to hear. But if it means anything, I’d miss you too.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re probably right. What are we to each other? Friends, acquaintances, strangers?” He shook his head. “Whatever it is, I still feel like I’ve known you forever.”
“Nothing is ever going to get better is it?” the Zigoton lamented. It was obvious to him that they were strangers; he was certain the other, though he wouldn’t admit it, knew it was the truth. “This thing that we’re doing right now, this conversation we’re having. It’s all useless, why even bother?”
“Again, you’re probably right.” The Patapon rubbed his chin in thought. “You said you were scared to die alone. What if… what if you didn’t have to?”
“What do you mean?” the Zigoton asked with piqued curiosity.
“What if we killed ourselves together? Somewhere they’ll never find. Wouldn’t it be nice to die on your own terms?”
“That would be… really nice.” His voice held optimism that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s do it.”
Hand in hand, the two found the highest cliff they could find. The sky was dark, a few stars began to make their appearance, and only a small amount of red from the setting sun lingered. They contemplated for a moment, looked at each other, and nodded as they walked forward. They clutched each other’s hands even tighter- it was the last thing they felt before their lives came to an abrupt end.
