2024-02-28: The Replacement

• Cutscene: The Replacement
• Cast: Shozo, Shozo
• Where: GGG Orbit Base
• Date: 2024-02-29 (ICly U.C. 0097 4 09)
• Summary: Shozo looks into the abyss — and Shozo looks back. (Part 2 here.)

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Shozo stared straight ahead as he walked through the halls back towards the room that had been arranged for him temporarily at the Orbit Base. As in the cafeteria, he’d asked for a room with no windows. He didn’t want to see the stars.

There had been no shortage of people claiming to be on his side, willing to take care of him — Lina had been the loudest, peppering in Italian to her proclamations as she bared her big heart. Shozo supposed he appreciated it, though something in his mind wondered if her volume had really been for him — after all, he had been right next to her.

Gai had been similarly gregarious, talking about light and what would come next for him, alluding to more of his tragic past. Shozo had to block him out fairly quickly, and just nod numbly — Gai’s words only mad him think of Mister.

Mister. Nobody else had heard the voice of the Ace Robot, but Shozo could feel the echo of the tangible emptiness in his head. He had spent… well, his entire life, short as it was, with him by his side. Moments before of unfamiliarity — with other people, with human culture, with everything — had been kept on track by the great kindness of an Ultra, even an artificial one. Now that kindness was gone, and Shozo could not help but fill that space with fear and uncertainty,

He couldn’t go back to Tsutsujidai. Borr, Calibur, Max, Vit… they mattered to him terribly, but every time he tried to think about them, he took center stage. Rayblood. The despot. The tyrant. The… proud father.

Rayblood had been proud of him. Even without the Ace Robot’s guidance, Shozo had always lived by a simple, if childish guiding philosophy: Nothing his fathers found to be right could be good. Mister had added nuance to that, but opposing his fathers was what pulled his thoughts towards kindness — away from them.

What was he doing now? To learn that after everything, the greatest monster he could imagine found him something to take pride in. Shozo stopped in front of the polished, white metal wall, and stared into his silhouetted reflection, raising a hand to touch his cheek. It felt false under his fingertips. Hell, his fingertips felt false on his skin. Nothing felt real anymore, now that what was underneath it had been exposed. He let out a shudder, screwed his eyes shut, and kept walking, turning into his bunk —

“Oh, you’re still here!”

Shozo’s eyes shot open. Sitting there, on the bed, was a small girl of no more than 8, curly night-black hair framing a porcelain face, and golden eyes with red crosses for pupils. A ragged breath escaped Shozo’s lungs as he almost folded into a combat pose, wincing as the curved blade slid out of his arm.

“Inasha-“

“Ew, nope! He’s nasty,” the girl chirped, making a face before giggling, looking unbothered at the weapon pointed at her. Shozo’s mouth was dry.

“Who are you, then?” he asked, dreading the answer he’d receive.

“I’m Shozo!” she said, the biggest, most genuine smile on her face. Shozo paused, blade arm drooping before raising quickly.

“Wh- No, I’m Shozo,” he responded, automatically, and the girl shook her head, curls bouncing around adorably.

“Nonono, you WERE Shozo. I’m Shozo now!” It was a strange thing to say, and she said it with such a straight face.

“Wh-No!” Shozo sputtered, instinctively dropping his pose and clenching his hands. “What the hell are you talking about?!” The girl put her hands to her ears, gasping.

“Bad word!” She said, looking genuinely upset and taking Shozo further aback.

“What the f-Bad word? What?” He stammered out, trying to gather his thoughts through a haze of confusion and panic. “What kind of — You’re Yapool again, aren’t you? Didn’t you-“ The girl crossed her arms dramatically.

“I’m Shozo! You’re Yapool!” She shouted childishly, before narrowing her eyes, practically looking into him. “And don’t pretend you’re not, either.”

Thoughts fell away, replaced by venom as Shozo raised his sword arm again.

“Don’t ever call me that,” he hissed, but the child casually stuck her tongue out at him fearlessly.

“You stopped being Shozo when you started being Yapool. Even if you’re not Yapool anymore, you were, and you can’t be Shozo anymore,” she said simply, as if explaining a math problem. Shozo said nothing, staring daggers into the fearless eyes of the girl. She hopped out of bed — she was easily a head shorter than him — and looked up at him, before her body rippled and shifted to him — then to Lina, then Borr, then Gai, then Kaworu, up and down, up and down, before returning to the body Shozo had met her in.

“I always come back to this. It’s me! My comfy form,” she says, smiling placidly. Shozo twitched.

“I know how my- your shapeshifting works,” he spat, waiting for her to get to the point. The girl’s smile showed some teeth.

“I’m cute, aren’t I? Shozo’s cute! Adorable, even. Folks think I’m a cutie pie. They think Shozo’s a cutie pie!” A dusting of red came to Shozo’s cheeks.

“I’m not cute,” he muttered, a little childishly himself. The girl nodded in agreement.

“You’re not! Shozo’s supposed to be cute, but you’re not. Shozo’s supposed to be happy, and a little strange, and wise beyond their years — and you’re not.” Her voice dropped a bit of the pretense, but remained almost cloying in its sweetness. “You’re miserable. You don’t know anything anymore.” She grabbed Shozo’s wrist and pulled —

Shozo’s skin tore away like wax paper, bloodlessly, revealing the spikes and chitin underneath. Shozo shrieked and pulled away, but only succeeded in his hand sloughing off to reveal the cruel red digits beneath. He covered it with his other arm, his shirt — only for that to tear too, his body ripping away and exposing more of the monster as he panicked and fell back, slamming into the mirror on the back wall and shattering it. Glass shards fell onto him as the girl looked down at him, her gaze imperious and unimpressed.

“That’s what you look like under it all,” she said calmly. “Maybe you were Shozo, but you’re broken now. You can’t call a pile of rusted scrap an airplane just because it used to be one.” She reached onto his trembling head and fearlessly grabbed a large shard of glass, showing the mirrored side to him.

The Monster was looking back at him, mandibles twitching, eyes that dizzying swirl of colors. A low, miserable groan began to bloom in his chest as he stared at his reflection, transfixed and repulsed.

“You’re what Yapool and Rayblood made,” the girl continued, her tone never dropping its evenness. “You’re not Shozo. You’re ※※※※※※※※.” Shozo’s eyes bulged, tears welling up in his eyes as the groan turned into a strangled cry.

“Don’t… Don’t call me that, that’s not me,” he mumbled, monstrous body visibly shaking. The girl shook her head, throwing away the shard of glass.

“That’s the name they gave you,” she said simply, head flopping to one side casually. “If you had stayed Shozo, you’d be Shozo. But that’s me now. And I can even do the things you couldn’t! I can taste food — Mmm, can’t wait to try Lina’s cooking…” Shozo pressed himself against the wall, spikes gouging into the metal walls with a low shriek as his legs scrabbled against the floor, until he was standing — and yet, he still felt smaller than this little girl who had come to replace him. Desperation gripped him, his mind starting to go blank from panic. He raised his bladed arm —

And the door slid open.