#I could write an entire essay about hiroto and zion's reactions to incineration I think they would be so different and SO charged

[queen-eevee]

tigers + “no one will die in your name but you” !!

(this takes place sometime around Season 7, Day 78)

Zion may have been too deep in her work to notice when the figure at her door first appeared, but she wonders if they know her ignorance is purposeful now. Even their polite throat-clearing doesn’t break her concentration; she just calmly continues to tinker: tightening the bolts around Iron Lion’s left arm to secure the new panel in place, double-checking her blueprints as she goes. Only when she’s sure the last bolt can’t turn any further does Zion give a tired sigh and slowly raise her head.

Seeing Mummy standing there is a surprise. She throws Zion a sheepish smile, shifting a takeout container back and forth between her hands.

“Sorry,” she whispers, “I didn’t want to interrupt, but Randy picked up dinner for the team and said someone might want to bring you some. We tried texting you but…”

“Oh.” Now Zion feels bad. She reaches for the offered container when Mummy walks forward—Greek salad, if the smell of pepperoncinis is anything to go by—and clears a spot for it on her workbench. “Thank you.”

“No problem!”

An awkward silence settles over the two. Mummy rocks back and forth on her heels and looks over her shoulder towards the door. Zion fights for something to say and arrives at nothing, only noticing how her right hand has formed a loose fist around her pencil.

“How...long have you been working for?” Mummy asks, hesitant. 

Zion hides a wince. “What time is it, again?”

“Nearly 8:00, I think.”

“Then...only a few hours.”

“Liar,” another voice chimes in, startling the two of them. Zion peers around Mummy to see Hiroto walk through the doorway, holding utensils and a glass of water. She shoots Zion a knowing smirk. “Famous says they heard someone welding at 4:00am last night.”

Zion scowls. “Well, Famous is a narc.”

Mummy laughs as Hiroto sets the glass down next to Zion’s long-empty water bottle.

“I did have to take a break to play today,” Zion points out, gesturing emphatically with her pencil. “So technically, it’s only been a few hours since I started again.”

Hiroto rolls her eyes and gives the mech towering in front of her a lazy once-over. “Started what? Does Lion need repairs already?”

Zion nods, looking back towards her notes. “'M just getting a head start on some upgrades.”

There’s a muffled shifting of fabric and a clicking of shoes as Mummy backs away from the workbench and quietly bows out of the room. Her departure shouldn’t wash Zion with a wave of relief but it does, and a pang of guilt immediately follows. Hiroto, however, completely oblivious to both Zion’s emotions and Mummy’s exit, continues to slowly circle the Iron Lion. 

“What are you upgrading?” she asks, gently brushing her hand along its side. “Finally getting around to adding those wings Fearful hated so much?” The mech lets out a hollow ring when she bumps her knuckles against the shell. “Or a new batting mechanic?”

“I’m making it fireproof.”

The footsteps stop. When Hiroto doesn’t reply right away, Zion glances up from her blueprints to see her staring at the cockpit, expression indecipherable. Her eyes glow bright orange in the light of the fluorescents.

“…You can do that?”

Zion rolls the arm she’s working on over to its other side. The metal groans in complaint. 

“Not yet,” she admits. “But I’m trying.”

Hiroto nods, chewing her bottom lip between her teeth. She doesn’t meet Zion’s eyes. Her expression doesn’t change. Zion suddenly wonders if it was actually Famous who had been awake to hear her working at 4:00am.

“If you figure something out,” Hiroto murmurs after a moment, “maybe we should start making mechs for all the stripes.”

The weak sarcasm in her voice is more than obvious, but Zion’s eyebrows still shoot up to her hairline in surprise, grin near-giddy.

“Oh? Does this mean you’re finally coming around to my idea of a fully mech-ed team?”

At Zion’s excitement, the clouded look on Hiroto’s face disappears. She lets out a bark of laughter, lips curling into a sharp smile of all canines. 

“I’m good with anything that might piss off the peanut.”