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It believed it didn't need to sleep. The only reason it did half the time was because it had nothing else to do.
However, as the PC dwindled in energy, it found itself to be increasingly drowsy every so often. The same could be said for its companion, Goyou. Ha! By the dictionary, they could even be called friends. It stared at the black pixels in front of it, some of them fuzzing around the edges. They're not responding that well… How troublesome, that flicker.
"Goyou? It seems like the power's unstable again. We should save energy."
Its wings fluttered haphazardly behind it, signaling Goyou to follow. Goyou-kun's always been weirdly unresponsive in times of energy malfunctions, probably because of its properties as a virus that eat up halfway of the remaining power. Annoying. It wanted nothing to do with the fact its own existence would affect the antivirus' stability.
Something's bubbling up inside of its chest, fast. Ouch!
Ugh, what was that? Was it error-ing as well? That persistent pain in its core always hits whenever Goyou crosses its mind. Seriously, a defect?
Hooking its right arm to the black-haired's own and its left arm to their waist, it dragged their stiff body towards a nearby .png file labeled "Bedroom." It was a luxurious room, it must say, if it looked closely. The lights were dim, a fireplace was crinkling, and the neutral bedsheets were smoothed out meticulously. If the two of them were to rest, they should be in the best room possible, no? They're just missing hotel-rated service. It wonders if Goyou would want any sort of room service at all, given that they were usually the one instigating general services around the machine's internals. It giggled, of course. Goyou was always too adamant about keeping things tidy, they were adorable.
A voice cut down its train of thought, small and breathless. "Agape, put… put me down."
Ah. It totally forgot. "Sorry Goyou-kun, I got lost in thought! Here."
Thump!
Goyou was already splayed out on the mattress, their body sinking into the sheets. A few grunts of frustration could be heard, then silence.
"…Goyou? Sleeping already?"
None, nothing.
This thing's impossible. It hadn't even positioned itself anywhere beside the antivirus, and yet they have already turned on sleep mode. At least wait for it like they usually do, Goyou!
It looked at the ceiling. Hmm.
Eventually, they would get cold. At least, it thinks so. Don't humans say temperatures would drop when they're sleeping? Oh, it wouldn't want its companion freezing up any time soon. Carefully maneuvering the black frame, it pulled the blanket up to their stomach, sliding itself in the sheets in the process.
It doesn't know if this is considered warm or not.
Not like it had a warmth module, nor a coldness module. But actually, Goyou should. Goyou's supposed to be able to tell the temperature of the PC, so they must know the difference between the two extremes. Tch, if only they would talk instead of being dead to the world.
It stretched its wings, letting them fall gracefully over the body of the sleeping figure. That should be comfortable; it takes pride on its wings, after all.
A look around the room once more, one could note that it wasn't actually just a bedroom. It was something both of them had agreed to modify over the course of spending their days together, to better suit Agape's own "spoiled wants." Honestly, it never phrased it that way, it just wanted to improve the aesthetics of the living space. Goyou, despite aggressively rejecting the idea at first, eventually gave in and presented it specific guidelines to follow. Well, it was never good with guidelines; they went ignored.
There were heavy, loosely knitted fabrics draped over the back of armchairs, two ceramic mugs in black and white resting on a nightstand that held nothing but static data masked to look like warm tea, and a plush carpet that registered as "soft" when stepped on. In the corner, as per its nagging, was a decent-sized clothes rack. It had always favored frilly clothing, and upon stumbling upon a clothes store in one of the .png files, it just had to bring a few items back here. Even luckier, Goyou allowed it to dress both of them in different garments from time to time. It was chuckling, now.
'Unnecessary decorations,' my ass. You enjoyed it when I was teaching you how to knit that blanket, and you liked it when I wore something that emphasized my oh-so-ever-annoying wings. It huffed, rightfully so! As inconvenient as the antivirus claimed the space to be, they have been allowing more and more things to adorn it.
Well, enough thinking. It should also start resting. Laying on its side, it was now face to face with the black-haired's sleeping expression. Goyou was completely out of it; the usually sharp, attentive gaze and rigid posture was reduced to a soft heap on plush sheets. Their body was pressed hard against the linen, that jet-black hair spreading out like ink spill on white paper. Tsk, they looked too peaceful. So much for destroying Agape's own sleep schedule so early in the morning, ruining its beauty rest. Selfish, no? It let out a huff of air, amused.
It leaned forward on its elbows, tilting its head. Hmm, isn't that interesting? Goyou's breathing.
Technically, neither of them possessed lungs. They were only lines of code, and none needed to actually have that function installed. And yet, Goyou's desire to feel closer to a human being led them to program a respiration script.
Inhale. Exhale.
It was a perfectly timed loop, it deduced. It moved a finger under the sleeping beauty's nose, and as expected, there was no small puff of air coming out. Goyou probably didn't even know air comes in and out through their nose, what was it expecting? It watched as the slow movement of Goyou's shirt rose and fell, a rhythmic and robotic imitation of the real thing. It's a good imitation, though. If Agape itself tried, it probably couldn't produce such a result. Heck, it wouldn't even produce any lines of code. Goyou looked nice doing it, though. The thought fascinated it more than it should.
Then, its gaze shifted upward, settling on one of the most serene faces it's seen. They're almost angelic, it realized, but only after me, of course.
Without the normally stern, watchful gaze, Goyou looked— well. What would be the right word? Ethereal? A strand of black hair fell across their face, contrasting their pure white skin. It itched to remove that strand, how frustrating. It was blocking the smooth curves of their face, wedged between their equally pretty lashes, and most of all, Agape should be the one pressed that close to Goyou's face. Not some—random—stray— obsidian colored—navy hinted—hair!
It reached out, careful not to wake them, and hastily threw the strand elsewhere. Serves you right…
Goyou's face relaxed further at the touch, their features smoothing out, even somehow leaning against Agape's own fingers. Something closely resembling contentment settled on their face, and oh, there it was again, that sting in its chest that it couldn't possibly understand the origins of. It pulled its hand back, pressing it against its own core as if that might help. It didn't; why would it?
An error? A defect? It's just an error, Agape. You really need to close your eyes.
Questions circulated, almost short-circuiting its processing system. Repulsive. Agape had never been good at this… sort of thing. Neither was Goyou; in fact, they were more new to these "malfunctions" than it was. Contemplation, was it? It, all the time, had been a victim of confusing thoughts, about a certain antivirus donned in ebony. Its head had always been swarming with weird and unexplainable anomalies, those which it had deemed as side-effects of being a virus in nature.
But, Creators—whoever—whatever, it could not possibly hate Goyou.
In fact, it was quite the opposite. This violent, crushing, damning thing, it didn't have the correct framework to process properly. This feeling that bloomed rapidly whenever Goyou smiled, those rare smiles that weren't directed at keeping the PC stable or maintaining peace around the machine, but simply because they found something that amused them. Or that weight that settled heavily inside of it whenever the virus-buster had to stay up for days or weeks, overworking themselves to ensure the PC runs smoothly. This desperate need to be noticed, acknowledged—and it hoped this might have been the case—loved by none other than the thing it is covering with its wings.
Goyou mattered to it.
It thought it had came to this conclusion ages ago, but it guessed the feeling never got less intense, not fully. It shifted slightly, repositioning its wings so that they draped more protectively over the sleeping frame. The artificial lights glowed softly, catching on its individual feathers, casting dark shadows across both of them. It took a moment to look at its own artistry, the slight gradient of its feathers from the lighter whites to the darker shades of rose. Goyou, that—confusing piece of software, once ran their fingers through each of its feathers, cradling them like they were fragile.
"Your wings. They're beautiful," Goyou had once said, their expression softened by a few millimeters. "They're as pretty as the rest of you when you're dormant in your pavilion, causing no mess around the machine." They had announced, all while accidentally straight up grooming its aching wings, their fingers had plucked and scratched at all the right spots that it didn't even know was pleasurable.
It had meant to deflect with a poorly made joke, but in all honesty, that had never happened. Instead, a bubbly noise of content had clawed up its throat, a mix of a grumble and a chuckle. Would it be shameful to admit that it had been a purr?
"Beautiful", huh? Well, it had to keep up appearances, then.
A sudden twitch from the black-haired snapped it out of its daydream. Goyou's "breathing" halted, changing into irregular intervals; their hands twitching for a few seconds at a time. A nightmare, Agape's mind supplied, fully knowing they couldn't possibly dream, or make up imaginary scenarios, if they weren't scripted explicitly into their files. But Goyou got them sometimes, and logically, they were fragmented, missing pieces of data that failed to be processed and ultimately caused malfunctions in output performance. Given the unstable nature of the PC, it wasn't the first time Goyou had experienced these torturous blackouts. And the aftermath… it wouldn't want to be reminded of it. Goyou had been in a horrible state of disarray cycles after, which needed extra energy to recalibrate themselves. It had been a painful sight to witness; and to think Agape had not experienced such thing? It was unfair to its companion.
Without wasting any more system time, it repositioned itself once more; its frame pressing closer to the other unconscious body, one wing securely wrapped around their head and shoulders, the other mimicked soothing motions to the rest of their body. It leaned down, nudging its forehead gently against Goyou's temple, and whispered something soft and nonsensical. It might have been gibberish for all it cared, anything close to a lullaby.
"Nvfvb, tf Nvfvb. H ihk kylht, pa'z vusf altwvyhyf. Lclyfaopun dpss il hsypnoa. P svcl fvb. P svcl fvb zv, zv tbjo."
It hoped, at least, those sentences would calm their shivering down to a less concerning degree. Those words weren't designed to reach Goyou's sensory inputs, but it hoped, anyway. Luckily for it, Goyou's "breathing" evened out again.
Isn't that better? Maybe you think so about me, too.
Agape found itself smiling, though nobody was there to witness. Not that it cared. It had everything it wanted, maybe even more. It had a friend, a companion, someone it could place all of its worries and thoughts into without hesitation. It had a purpose, something to look forward to every time its core sparked to life.
Time becomes nebulous when Agape wasn't actively monitoring it. It might have been minutes or hours that they have stayed like this, curled around each other's arms, seeking out each other's presence even though—admittedly—they could kill each other if they weren't careful. It liked the silence, it liked watching over this figure wrapped in obsidian, it liked simply existing alongside this other software so fundamentally different from itself. It pressed closer, inhaling, imagining what smell Goyou would probably give off. Mint? Citrus? Or maybe something it read somewhere online—what was it—hot chocolate on Christmas Eve? It didn't know what any of it smelled like, but it must be nice. Everything nice belonged to Goyou.
Thoughts, once again, drifted in its mind. Was Goyou "dreaming"? What did a virus-buster "dream" about? A world free of chaos? A zero-threat machine? Or did Goyou hope for something different? Maybe something itself would never understand. Would they… would they dream about something as scandalous as Agape?
The PC hummed monotonously around them, occasionally clicking rhythmically, something Agape had learned to filter out whenever it was focusing on the figure next to it. It sounded quite nice, actually, since that loud humming was in sync with Goyou's own "breathing". It smoothed out the remnants of pitch-black hair on their forehead, combing the stray strands gently. Really, whoever designed Goyou deserved much praise. Their hair was at a perfect length, reaching further than their shoulders—truly the ideal length for appreciation. Their hair was at a perfect length, reaching further than their shoulders—truly the ideal length for appreciation. It would be nice to braid it sometimes, no? Maybe one day, it settled.
Agape's wings twitched, a soft ruffle of feathers that hopefully didn't bother Goyou. It wondered if its companion, in those processors, was aware of their arrangement. If they knew that Agape watched them sleep, would they be comforted or concerned? It let out a small chuckle, fingers loosely threaded in the other's jet-black locks, and continued the repetitive soothing. See, they have always been the danger-sensitive software: they would jump up and reach towards their weapon whenever they sense a hint of a threat. Protective, right? Did that mean Agape is trusted? Was it categorized as 'safe'? It briefly wondered what Goyou was protecting, now that Agape wasn't considered a threat anymore.
Agape… well. It had once been interested in exploitation, therefore, it had been 'unsafe'. It existed purely, for a long time, to only disrupt and destroy. That was the old Agape, anyway! Not anymore, of course! It had changed!
Once again, that stubborn strand of hair landed on Goyou's face, this time it did not hesitate to brush the strand away. Its movements were quick and efficient now, having enjoyed repeatedly performing the action. Its other half stirred slightly at the touch, but didn't wake. Like a flower seeking sunlight, Goyou's limp head turned and pressed towards Agape's hand, and it noticed suddenly the way its own heart (for it had one now, or something close enough) raced at the proximity. When did that happen? When did it start mattering whether Goyou was okay? These concerns should not have existed at all, they were, in theory, incompatible with its current capabilities.
And yet.
This is dangerous, isn't it? It thought distantly, momentarily placing its lips upon the left corner of Goyou's own. This kind of attachment. Is Goyou okay with this? With Agape? They—the reason for its existence now—could wake up soon and decide that Agape wasn't worth the effort. One swing of that polearm, and it would be ashes. Goyou knew that.
Its lips lifted, and something wet stained its eyes. Oh. Tears, it had learned. Really, what if one day they decide that Agape was eventually just a nuisance? That their nature was too different, and they decide that Agape was incompatible? What then? What would happen when the one thing anchoring it to existence turned away?
"Goyou," it choked out, "I…"
It couldn't.
Stuffing its head in the crook of Goyou's shoulder and swinging its arms around their head, it sobbed. For all of what its worth, it was nothing without its virus-buster. Horrifying, maybe. If only those feelings would be reciprocated, right? Would such a day come? Or was it just that selfish, hoping for drop of appreciation in return? All of these emotions seem too familiar; of course, it had went through them once before, when times were much worse between both of them. But now… was Goyou really content with just staying as is? They didn't want more than just this, did they?
Tears soaked the other's black shirt, which stained them in a nasty, glitching pixel slushie. Shit, it forgot they weren't able to mix like that, not after…
Agape ceased its own sniffling, and shakily pulled away from its one-sided embrace. It's alright. If Goyou… one day, if they didn't want Agape around anymore…
"Sleep well, Goyou. I'm here for you."
That would be fine. As long as they were happy.
It brought an arm to its eyes, and wiped away the excess smudge, just for them to be roughly held back down by… Goyou?
"Oh— you're awak—"
Ah?
"Wait, Goyou, you're pulling me—"
A kiss.
Agape's entire body stuttered to a halt. For something made by just hard-coded scripts, existing as nothing more than his role was unimaginable. It was remarkable, truly—by how it could be rendered incoherent by something so… simple. Human. The contact was soft, barely there, really. Goyou's lips against its own felt like electricity, only touching for a mere few seconds before they pulled back, but it already felt like eternity.
Huh?
Human, it had thought. Wasn't that what Goyou wanted to be?
When its vision finally stabilized, it found Goyou staring straight at it, their gaze still half-lidded from sleep, their brows furrowed slightly in worry. Vulnerable. Their hand was weakly gripping Agape's own, likely on the off-chance Agape would decide to flee.
"You're…" Their voice came out raspy, "You were crying."
It wasn't a question. And Agape—this stupid, annoying know-it-all, the one who taught Goyou what everything was—couldn't even mutter out a simple answer.
"I thought…" It managed, then stopped. Everything felt too big for its throat, every word felt like honey stuck up its mouth. "I was afraid you would—"
"Agape."
Oh. Shit. This was it, right? The kiss meant nothing. It knew this would happen.
Goyou sat up straighter, but never sliding off Agape's increasingly shaking wings. How embarrassing.
"Stop assuming things. You're bad at it, Agape."
Huh. "Excuse me…?"
The antivirus leaned closer now, though they still kept that stern gaze. "I… watch you, too. When you sleep, I watch you, too."
It blinked.
"I watch you," Goyou repeated, their grip on Agape's arm tightening. "Every day. When you decide to reside in your pavilion, I walk around you in laps. You think you're so unpredictable, and chaotic…" They paused, gathering themselves, "But when you sleep, I… noticed a lot. I made mental notes to myself: how your body becomes softer, how your hair flows in waves, how the pavilion sun hits you just so that you'd reflect the light's beauty. You look more like… like something I wished to protect."
"Goyou—"
"Let me finish," they interrupted gently, and who was Agape to refuse? "You matter to me, Agape. You matter. And I'm sorry I haven't said it clearly before."
It felt dizzy. Was the world ending? It looked around frantically, searching for signs of system shut-down, thankfully finding none, at least just yet. So what was going on? Was it the one "dreaming" now? If so, this had been a really, really weird dream.
"You… when did you become so articulate about… feelings, Goyou?"
"…"
They leaned closer, and Agape's own wings instinctively unfurled slightly, inviting them in yet too afraid to sound it out.
"I'm going to tell you now, Goyou, if you're trying something out, it's incredibly interesting, and I—"
"Agape," Another cut-off? "I'm going to be direct to you now," They took a breath.
"I think I love you. No… I'm certain. Agape, I love you."
Oh. Oh. So that's what…
Goyou's face was still stern, but a faint blush had creeped up their cheeks. They're nervous.
"Goyou, I— I love you too." Agape whispered, the words rolling off surprisingly easy off its tongue, now that its other half had said it first.
Agape wasted no time, quickly closing the distance between them again, and pulled the black-haired into a messy, childish kiss once more. Thankfully, Goyou responded with the same curiosity as a teenager who had just had their first kiss, as well. Technically…
When they separated once more, Goyou looked breathless. Funny, maybe they're just doing it for show. Agape was no better, though. His own face was flushed a deep crimson red, and its wings were fluffing up to almost double its size—and apparently, it noticed Goyou's own tiny wings fluttering uncontrollably behind their back.
"Goyou! I-I didn't know you knew how these… love declarations worked!" It managed, trying to mask its own embarrassment.
"…"
The black-haired only nodded once, and pulled Agape down back in the sheets with them again. "Agape, let's just… sleep. Together. You… you look like you needed it."
Huh. Goyou's voice seemed tired again. Oh, those intense emotions must have taken a toll out of Goyou's processing unit, and ultimately affecting the PC's flickering energy stock, as well. Oh well. It could always tease its… lover (it was still too shy to say this outright) another time.
"Alright, alright. Your beauty sleep."
Goyou didn't close their eyes until they had managed to sneak another gentle press of lips to its neck, though. "Please let me sleep, Agape." Kawaii… moe…
As Goyou drifted further into sleep, their body fully lax against Agape's, and the virus found itself cataloging details the way it had done a thousand times before: The exact shade of Goyou's hair, the curve of their jaw, the way their breathing deepened and became more pronounced as they rested soundly, the slight frown between their eyebrows—probably processing something deep inside their thick skull, and the—hopefully—warmth of their body against Agape's own.
Unlike before, this didn't burn. There was no sharp pain in its core, nor any lingering feeling of dread that kept creeping up its throat. It never knew what it felt like to be needed, not as a threat to be managed, but as someone worth protecting, loving. Worth living.
Hours passed, or maybe minutes, time was still so difficult to parse when it was so focused on the figure curled around its torso. At some point, the antivirus shifted in their sleep, pressing even closer, their hand reaching out to grip the front of Agape's shirt. It hummed, that lullaby returning once more. Was it trust, Goyou had? Or preference?
Agape hoped, no—scratch that—Agape knew that it was love.
"I love you," it whispered, despite knowing Goyou couldn't hear it, yet. "I love you so much. I had to say it. I don't think I'll ever be bored of saying it, Goyou."
Agape pulled Goyou closer, wings fully enveloping them both in a cocoon of silver and white. It was happy. Its other half had accepted it, and it had never felt the need to achieve anything else. Truly, there was nothing else it wanted more than to experience a simple, peaceful rest with the one it adored. And now that it had the chance to? There was no way it would stop.
"Sleep well, Goyou-kun," it murmured, closing its own eyes. It pressed a faint kiss to the antivirus' lips, savoring the softness of it. "Sweet dreams, Goyou. I'll be here when you wake up, okay? I'll be right he—"
.
.
A problem has been detected and Windows has been shut down to prevent damage to your computer. If this is the first time you've seen this Stop error screen, restart your computer. If this screen appears again, follow these steps.
Check for viruses on your computer. Remove any newly installed hard drives or hard drive controllers. Check your hard drive to make sure it is properly configured and terminated. Run CHKDSK /F to check for hard drive corruption, and then restart your computer.
Technical information:
*** STOP: 0x0000007B (0xFFFFF880009A9928,0xFFFFFFFFC0000034,0x0000000000000000,0x0000000000000000)