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It barely heard Jie enter before she spoke up, the usual greeting of “Hey, power down, I got something for you.”
Jie has named it Yin. It... it was not supposed to think of itself as “it” but it did not like the pronoun “they”. It did not tell Jie this, as it did not wish to upset her. It cared for her mental and emotional state.
That was something Jie had taught it. To care. It cared about Jie. It held Jie in the highest regards. When asked, it would always say that Jie was its caretaker, not owner.
When it powered back on, it integrated with its new system.
“I have GPS.”
Jie grinned at it, “Yep! There was a broken one that came into the shop a while back and I’ve been working on fixing it up for you.” She set down her tools and wiped her hands on her pants, messing them even more than they were before, “Alright, let’s go test it out.” She grabbed her purse and keys, “Go get dressed and we’ll head out!”
It tilted its head, “Where is our destination?”
She shrugged, “Don’t need one. We’re just going for the sake of going. Come on, Yin-Yin, pack a bag with your repair kit and an extra pair of pants or two.”
It stood and went to do as it was told.
It stood over a mangled human corpse. It felt like its systems were overloading, burning with code, panic and desperation to escape clawing at its core. It couldn’t recognize the face of the human beneath it, but it knew that it was the human who had installed its kill switch.
Where the switch had been was now a sparking fray of wires from it had broken the device.
It thought of Jie.
Jie would be so disappointed.
It had caused so much needless pain.
It hurried away. It didn’t think about the carnage it left behind, the humans and omnics still alive, hurt and desperate for help. It just ran.
Its GPS showed it a nearby lake it could clean itself in. It could feel it’s joints going stiff from how long they were in the water, but it didn’t care.
It should care.
It didn’t have its personal repair kit anymore.
It forced itself to move on without dwelling on its actions.
“It is quite late for a stroll, is it not, my student?”
Genji froze at the sound of his voice and he had to silent a chuckle.
“Or perhaps you are not taking a walk?” He looked down at his student from his place in the lap of one of the statues to the cyborg, a pack on his back, “It is a very good time of year to travel the mountains. There is a peak almost two weeks walk from here that, on the night of a full moon, glows with almost magical light, and on the new moon you can see every star and planet in the sky so perfectly.”
Genji looked up at him, faceplate hiding his emotions, but his voice gave his anger away, “I am not here to travel the mountains, monk.”
“That is a shame.” Zenyatta let his feet drop off the lap of the statue and picked up his own bag, dropping slowly, “I am.”
Genji stared at him for a while, “You are leaving? Without fanfare or goodbyes?”
“A little stress will do Mondatta good.” He pulled his bag onto his shoulder, his orbs adjusting to lay over the strap, “Though, I will admit, this is earlier than I usually leave. I was hoping to see my usual places with more snow and ice.”
Genji didn’t reply, but did continue staring at him. Zenyatta could feel his confusion coming off him in waves.
“Okay, okay, you’ve caught me.” He held his hands up in surrender, “There is someone I need to say goodbye to. She will be very unhappy with me if I do not and I will not risk her wrath.” He chuckled audibly this time, “Will you join me?”
Genji didn’t answer, but when Zenyatta started to walk, he followed. The path was a memorized one for the omnic, but the destination was saved in his GPS. The pair walked in silence, stepping over fallen trees and avoiding stepping in animal tracks in the snow.
As they approached the clearing, Zenyatta dropped his bag and kneeled down on the ground. He looked at Genji and patted the spot next to him and, after a moment of hesitation, his student joined him.
They sat in silence together for a while. Zenyatta could tell when Genji decided to take the opportunity to meditate and allowed him the peace. When their guests joined, he couldn’t help but chuckle as they investigated the cyborg. Genji slowly came out of his meditation and looked down at his lap.
“I should have known.”
Zenyatta laughed and reached out, taking Ērsa into his lap, the long-eared rabbit immediately getting comfortable where she was. Her children, three bunnies with ears almost as long as their mother’s, investigates Genji, sniffing and licking and nibbling him. Genji stayed still, letting them investigate. Eventually, he even lifted one into his hands to pet it.
“I helped Ērsa birth her children. The babies seem to have bonded to me and believe me to be their father.” Zenyatta told him, “I almost lived in this clearing for two weeks to be sure they would be okay. Mondatta was furious when I returned.” He chuckled at the memory and slowly picked leaves from out of Ērsa’s fur.
“I assume you’ve named them all?”
“Of course.” He looked to the trio cuddling up to Genji, “The two are your lap are Yin, the smallest, and Nīlō, who has blue eyes.”
Genji nodded and gestured to the one in his arms, cuddling up to his chest, “And this?”
Zenyatta hesitated, “That.... that is Jie.”
Genji’s confusion was palpable once again. He looked at the rabbits, “Ērsa and Nīlō are understandable,” the Nepali words for ears and blue to describe a rabbit with long ears and another with blue eyes, “but Yin and Jie are real names.”
“They are people from my past.” He told Genji, quietly, as though the words would echo and tell the whole world if he spoke too loud, “Yin is the runt. He is small and required extra care to be sure he would not die when he was born. Jie, however, is the eldest, and takes care of her little brother. She refused to nurse until Yin had taken his fill.”
Silence fell between them and Zenyatta lifted Ērsa to his chest to hold her closer. She wiggled a little to get comfortable, but laid still as he gently pet her.
“Who were they?”
He expected the question would come. Genji was too curious not to ask.
“Jie was the first friend I ever made.”
Genji decided asking about Yin would have to be for another time.
Zenyatta had been right. The full moon’s glow made the mountain’s peak look magical. They sat in silence, watching the world go by below them, the distant glow of a city, the occasional nocturnal animal walk by. He had never felt so at peace.
So when Zenyatta curled in on himself and started sobbing, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
The sound of omnics crying was something Genji hated. It was more painful than anything he’d heard before, the sound of their systems struggling to process the sorrow they felt.
“Master?”
Zenyatta didn’t acknowledge him. He curled up tighter, his array touching the snow between his knees as he sobbed. Snow began to collect along his back, clinging to his wires, and Genji was quick to sweep off his coat to cover Zenyatta with it. He wasn’t sure why.
He didn’t know how much time passed as Zenyatta cried, but he held an arm around his master’s shoulders, comforting him as best he could.
“I am sorry, Genji.” Zenyatta’s voice was crackly when he finally spoke, “I did not- I was reminded of something....”
“You need not explain, Master.”
“Jie took me to the mountains.” Zenyatta told him anyways, “We were testing the GPS system she had given me, traveling to see if I could keep track of our paths. We watched the stars and she asked me if I was happy.”
Genji nodded, “Weren’t you?”
“I was not sentient.” Zenyatta looked at him, “I did not know happiness she died in my arms and I could not tell her how thankful I was. She told me she loved me, that I was the best friend she’d had, and I could not love her back.”
Genji connected the dots then. Zenyatta had been Yin. Taken care of by Jie, given a chance at life. He pulled his master into a hug, holding him tight, “But now you do, don’t you?”
Zenyatta clung to him, nodded, and cried again.