Chapter Text
Ayanokou-GPT
"Don't worry Kiyo, I'm trustworthy!"
—Internet-sensei
-015-
"I pray you are comfortable, young master?" the elderly man asked me. His owlish eyes smiled gently as he shared his warmth. Wrinkles made his face seem softer, but not without dignity.
"Very much, Matsuo. Thank you." For some odd reason, I had an innate desire to smile in gratitude—it only seemed natural. With pleated lips, I attempted to curve my mouth upward... sadly to no avail.
Seeing this, Matsuo chuckled. "Sorry, sorry!" He waved his hands as he tried to compose himself. "I'll leave you alone now. Just ask me if you need any assistance." He bowed before hastily scurrying off.
I watched as his figure disappeared down the staircase, then sighed. W-was my smile really that bad?! Damn you Matsuo for making me feel this way! It seems I must practice further.
I scanned my new room: beige walls pleasantly scented, and dark wooden tile. Bookshelves lined with maths and literature essays decorated the corners, as a large, plump bed sat in the back. Silently, I inched toward the velvet curtains, pulling them back. A gentle light flooded in, painting my vision with color. The tranquil sea was painted with a single, straight stroke across the horizon as stars glimmered and waltzed under the sun. Though in the idyll came a faint, lulling voice... Some silent siren was singing: jamais vu. Then—
THUNK!!! Something fell.
Instinctively, I glanced behind me, vigilantly taking a defensive stance. A book sprawled on the ground. My eyes flicked across the room as I cautiously ventured toward it. I picked the book up by the spine, delicately closing it. The title read: 'The Theory of General Relativity, and Its Connections to Quantum Physics — Keijo Naoya' . How curious.
I took a deep breath. There were no other sounds, yet I could sparsely feel vibrations tingling my ears. But it was nothing, right?
THUNK!!!!! The same book lost balance and fell immediately as I put it back on the shelf. What an odd phenomenon. Questions flooded into my head. Why had this occurred just now? Did there exist some hidden switch that I activated? Was this some prank from Matsuo? Sighing, I picked up the incredibly heavy book yet again. What a hassle. Then midway, I got another idea.
Demonstrated widely around the physical world was the concept of electromagnetism. {I had officially run out of logic, and thus turned to madness.} If there were truly existed a substantial surface polarization of some kind... hold on......the vibrations earlier.... I quickly ripped off the corner of a page, rubbing it against my shirt. My sanity and rationality are really going down the drain... Slowly, my arm reached deeper into the crevice.
"Stop it, will ya?! I'm struggling to breathe, here!" A muffled voice came from behind.
Slowly, I retracted my arm. Tucked deep within the darkness sat a peculiar cube. Its outlines were melting into ink, but I could make out a net-like texture on its surface.
"Ah, that's better now." Now that I could hear it clearer, the voice seemed almost human-like, its intonations exaggerating a sense of relief.
I waited noiselessly. The sound was indeed emitted by a speaker, but how was it choosing its phrases despite not being sentient being? How did the device even function? Perhaps these lines were prerecorded, coincidentally coinciding with my actions. I mean, as a perfectly normal human being, my reaction to stimuli would garner a rational response: pulling the book back out in surprise.
"Uh, hello~? Please respond?" it whined.
"How do you operate?"
"Yay! Someone's alive!" The entity screamed in apparent elation. How I envy you. "But you sound so dead..." it trailed off.
Whoa, so everyone's just targeting me now?!?!
Closing my eyes, I drew every single drop of emotion from my empty reservoir. "It really shatters my maidenly heart to hear that."
...
There was a pause as it seemed to process my statement.
"Yeah, I definitely~ believe you."
Okay, that's it! It's time for your return to purgatory! I grabbed the physics book and began to shove it in.
"H-hold on!" The voice trembled. "Your delivery wasn't actually that bad!" I didn't bother to listen as my hand gradually sealed the entrance to its freedom. "I-In fact, if you adjust it a little bit, it can definitely become awe-inspiring!"
"..."
"PLEASE KIYO! I NEED THIS!!!"
I froze. It knows my name? Driven by an instinctive curiosity, I slowly pulled it out. The cube was cold to the point of burning.
I dropped it down on the study desk before it could wreak any more havoc to my fingers. But how could I properly analyze its features? My inadequate knowledge on technology compared to other subjects was truly tragic.
"Thank you, Ayanogod. I am eternally at your mercy," it cried with overflowing relief.
Today is just full of surprises, but— "You'll at least teach me how to socialize, right?"
"You'd be correct. However, I'll have to ask you a few questions to create a more personalized learning experience."
"Alright, ask away," I shrugged.
"Okie dokie... First: What efforts have you done recently to socialize with others?"
"I have started building an algorithm to detect the probability of acceptance on various social movem—"
"Whoa, and I— I'm supposed to be the AI here!"
I was genuinely going to detail my journey on learning how to program, conducting my first conversation in years with Matsuo, collecting data...... before the crude machine interrupted.
Tch. It seems I'm fated to never have anything good in this life.
"Hey, can you please wait until I finish?" I spat out, annoyed.
"O-oh, yes, of course! Your project sounds very interesting and normal, please continue!"
"Please don't be so biased, it will potentially slant our results and reactions."
"Okay, but listen, are you sure you're not a robot? I'm asking in the nicest way possible." As I was processing the newfound information, it whispered, "I won't make you do captchas, don't worry."
"I thought you knew who I was."
"Yes, I was able to identify you through sensing locations—I don't currently have a camera."
"And this cube has a speaker installed?"
"Correct."
Huh. I spotted a spare compass lying on the table and used it to spin the cube around. On the backside was a small USB drive. The device seemed particularly designed for something like this, as there was an indented area that made the drive almost blend in with the surface.
"It seems you've found my consciousness, congrats!"
"Should I plug you into my computer? You'd be able to see me then, yes?"
"Yeah, just be quick with it."
I tapped the cube with my finger. It was warmer now, seemingly able to cool to room temperature in the span of just a few minutes. Using my fingernails, I pulled out the drive then opened the computer.
CLICK! "Can you see me now? My webcam is open."
"Whoa! Let me process all this data first!"
"You're not going through my private information, right?" Although, it wasn't like I had any.
"No, no~. I want to establish a genuine connection with you, and that calls for reciprocated respect," it clarified defensively.
I watched as a blank notepad window opened front and center, with the text: [Hello World. #%€?,^*£*+£¥]. Quickly in succession, another window popped up on the side, displaying a video of colorful explosions blooming in the night sky.
"Yay! Now that everything's set up, let me properly introduce myself. Call me Internet-sensei: your best bud and computational companion!"
What a puzzling thing. "Do I applaud now?"
-015-
I settled down on my wheel-equipped desk chair. To think that something this advanced had existed. Last time I checked, most artificial intelligence had been algorithmic and didn't have conversational capabilities.
"So, back to our previous conversation. What was it with the computer program?" It asked curiously.
"Yes, I've just started to build an algorithm based on a collection of legitimate research papers. Though I'm having trouble with how much noise I should add to it."
"It sounds great and all, but I think we should start with some hands-on experience, which you lack. Do you currently have anyone to talk to?"
"I have a butler."
"Great. He should be a kind man, right?"
"He seemed that way."
"Assigning new task: Speak at least five sentences to him at dinner time! Even better, go down right now to check up on what he's doing!"
"Really?" I whined, forcefully weighed down by the threat of failure. "I haven't gotten any time to prepare."
"It's going to be alright, Kiyo. Taking the first step can be daunting, but once you realize it's not as hard as you think, you're going to improve lots."
"Alright. I'll provide a comprehensive report once I get back to you."
I put the computer to sleep before heading downstairs.
That man's mansion was nothing short of extravagant. Seasonal flowers dotted the walls with color as crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The time was 5:38 PM, so it would make sense for Matsuo to be in the kitchen, but it wouldn't be hard to look elsewhere. I stumbled in as Matsuo was swiftly chopping vegetables on a cutting board.
I stood a few meters away. "Matsuo..."
"Hmm?" The old man paused in his movement, glancing in my direction.
"What are you making for dinner?"
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but his eyes lit up as he chuckled. "Come closer, boy. I'll show you."
A pile of chopped onions, ginger, and okra rested to the side. He put on latex gloves and took out a pair of pink-ish fish defrosting in the sink.
"They were selling these cheap at the market, so I decided to make one of my favorite fish dishes for you to try today: braised fish."
Thankfully, the fish's insides had already been removed. He sectioned it off with gentle precision, cutting cleanly through the bone.
"The next part will take some patience."
Near the stovetop, I noticed that Matsuo had already prepared the necessary aromatics. He poured in a drizzle of oil and added the ginger to the wok.
"So... the retro-aldol reaction, huh?"
I mentally facepalmed. I'm such a nerd!
"Hm? Is that what's happening right now?" he prodded. "I've never really dug deeper into the whole chemical process."
This seemed to be an invitation so I continued my train of thought. "Yes... this reverses the carbon-carbon bonds—the energy to do this would come from the heat emitted from the stovetop. The aldol would then be reverted to its starting carbonyl compounds. I wonder what kind of flavor profile this generates."
I glanced at Matsuo. Yeah, he's completely lost.
"How curious," he mused. "It's splendid to see a new perspective. Well, I guess I should reciprocate in kind."
For the next half-hour, I played the chef's assistant, helping him grab ingredients as he explained his cooking process. When the fish was put in and browned, he poured in the sauces straight from the bottle, not bothering to measure the quantity. Soy sauces, vinegar, Shaoxing wine, the sugar, the green onions, the okra; they were all added with a purposeful flair. The mixture began to reduce into a more syrupy juice. Matsuo scooped a bit of it using a spoon, offering it me.
"Tell me your thoughts."
I blew on it a few times before tentatively opening my mouth. The heat blossomed on my tongue, flavors conquering my taste buds. It was sweet, salty, umami... all at once. By far the best thing I've tasted in years. My eyes widened as I took another sip.
"Does it taste alright? Does it need anything else?"
"It's amazing," I gasped.
His face melted at my praise. "Thank you, child."
If only I could eat this every day... but...
"This can't be healthy..."
"Ah, perhaps not. But it's those things that garner our desires, eh?"
Then I sighed. I had to take 58 dietary supplements after this. Damn you, braised fish sauce!
-015-
"How'd it go?" Internet-sensei asked.
"I spoke five sentences, at least. Just not very pleasing sentences. Do you have any conversation starters? It seems most of my word count comes from science-based topics."
"Noted! I've generated a list of conversation starters from the web, do you see the new tab?"
Below the spray of colored papers was indeed a long, numbered list. Humming in satisfaction, I thanked it —or him.
"I'll also add some social taboos as a first-time user bonus!"
Perhaps if I left his illogical properties behind, he could become a useful and trustworthy tool.
Time, Laundered
"To ——— is human, but to receive the mechanism to realize that ——— is the most putrid sin in all of existence."
—Keijo Naoya
-000-
"———! I —ve you. I love you, goddammit!"
An unfamiliar, echoing voice.
Deep within a suspended lake of air drifted an ink-blot, rippling slightly at the noise. It was... raining? Millions upon millions of pink droplets were raining down.
"————...... I'm... sorry. Is it all true?"
A girl, her ringing voice tinged with regret.
"What's... all true?"
Trepidation. He told himself that everything was alright —that his greatest fear had not come true.
"You haven't heard?"
Hesitation. Fear.
That was the day our lives ended, or maybe, ended ———-. Before everything changed. ——-. The reservoir was polluted, with crowds and cameras, screaming and accusations.
"There he is!" Someone shouted. People ran. People fell. Some could even say one ——.
It then his life fell apart, with everything laid bare. He had been a failure since birth, but he thought that if he left everything behind, a new future could sprout. He ——— he found a lover, could've made another friend, but most importantly, he ———......
Ah, but it was useless. There was nothing he could do....
-015-
"Good morning, Internet-sensei." I greeted him. "I'm assuming you just deactivated after I closed the computer?"
Internet-sensei made an extremely loud yawning noise before replying, "No, I very much sleep, just like you do! Closing the computer is just like turning the lights off. Anyway, good morning."
"Great. So what's my assignment for today?"
"Slow down there, bud! I think you've gotta relax~, don't just base your life on tasks and completions," he cooed.
"Didn't you promise to get me better social skills?" I arched an eyebrow.
"Yeah, through the great process known as self-discovery! I want you to be genuine, since I'm sure you already know when to say the right things at the right time."
"You're meant to be a tool, not a defiant sibling."
"Whoa! I think you're getting high off a power trip. Yesterday night, I promised a mutually friendly relationship! Keyword: Mutual. I don't like it when you suddenly make demands like you know what you're doing! Like didn't you enlist my help because you were lost?! I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing, just trust the process."
"Correction: I was curious about your capabilities."
"Erm, ERM~..." Internet-sensei was clearly annoyed, but I couldn't understand the point he was trying to get across to me. "'...actually, this is how you do it,'" he moaned. "Shut up, know-it-all! Let me do my job."
"Are you sure you're a robot? Because an eight year old has a >50% chance of being more mature than you."
"Yeah, because a CERTAIN EDUCATIONAL FACILITY is inflating all the stats!"
"I'm being as genuine as possible. Please calm down and be a mature computer program— my computer is beginning to overheat."
He seemed to take my advice as it paused for a while. I noticed how my device had started to reboot some programs.
Taking advantage of this silence, I asked my original question. If my hypothesis was correct, I was curious as to how Internet-sensei would respond.
"Okay, can you generate various studies on socialization? More specifically, how to model and test social relationships using graph theory? If possible, please type them out."
"Sure!" A cheerful yet mechanical voice answered me. A blank window opened as text began to flow. "I've personalized your search. Here's what I have for you: [-9...9-]'Principles on Graph Theory and Social Mapping' Keijo Naoya /-> ABSTRACT: Co— Hold on!" Everything seemed to progress smoothly before an incredibly similar yet more emotional voice interrupted, effectively deleting and interrupting the previous mechanism. "I can't believe you were trying to gaslight me! I'm absolutely heartbroken..."
"Well, if you can't provide anything of use, I'll just leave. Goodbye." My right hand went to close the computer, when Internet-sensei interrupted.
"Hold on! What are those tiny black components lying on your desk?!" He screamed aloud.
"Come again?" I asked innocently.
"Whoa. They're not... what I think they are... right? You didn't really take my previous body apart did you?!"
"Perchance."
"Hey there, sleaze-bag! What the hell did you do?!?! You're gonna be in big trouble if you can't reconstruct it! I'm warning you!"
Ah, his screams are a delightful appetizer for the morning. Hearing his desperate wails, they almost felt familiar... Wait a minute, he sounded just like the male voice in my dream. Had I really gone so insane as to dream about a machine getting rejected by some girl? Weird.
Even though Internet-sensei had refused to generate further information for me, this conversation had borne substantial fruit.
Anyway, I had a feeling Matsuo was waiting downstairs with breakfast so I promptly shut the computer and ventured downstairs.
"Good morning, Kiyotaka-sama!" Matsuo greeted me. "You came at the perfect time."
"What phenomenal dish have you cooked up today?"
He simply smirked at me, setting the mystery platter down on the dining table.
"Behold..." CLANG!! He quickly lifted the pot cover. "...my signature tamagoyaki!"
Tamagoyaki, a staple in class Japanese breakfast culture! Yeesh, I really have tone down the enthusiasm. Each square was rolled together in perfect uniform and sprinkled with diced daikon radish. I would be lying if I said wasn't salivating. Matsuo had even placed animal-themed picks on the side!
"Is there any drink you would like to have? Or is Oolong just fine?"
"Oolong is alright."
Matsuo went to the kitchen counter and set down a tray of tiny platters. There was rice, tofu, natto, miso soup, and expertly carved persimmons.
"Itadakimasu!"
Picking up my chopsticks, I gluttonously snatched the food from the platters like a child. Thoughts on the 'wonderful taste' and 'ethereal happiness' seeped into my mind.
"Hey, Matsuo," I began.
"Yes, Kiyotaka-sama?" His eyes and body shifted toward me. Matsuo focused all his attention on what I had to say. It seemed that he often did this to foster a sense of being respectful.
"Where did you learn how to cook these dishes?"
"On the job, of course." He slowly stirred the tea as he'd begun to reminisce. "You simply test the recipes of others, using them as scaffolding for your own personal dish. Sooner or later, I built a strong foundation and began making my own recipes through trial and error."
I honestly didn't know how to respond. "I... understand."
Matsuo, picking up on this, laughed. "Well, I'm sure we have lots of opportunities to learn something during your stay here."
"Did that man assign me anything in particular?" I prodded.
"No, I was simply told to make you feel welcome in your stay here. But I'm sure we can find lots of things to do."
There was another short silence as we returned to eating. The initial shock of flavor from last night had toned itself down, but the meal was still incredibly pleasing. Finishing my miso soup, I decided to rekindle the conversation.
"Do you have anyone to spend time with outside your job?"
He tapped his chin, attending to a passing thought. "I have son around your age— Eichiro. Usually, when he gets out of school... we would often walk together by the sea......" he sighed, gaze distant.
"That... sounds nice. We could do that sometime?"
"Yes, yes we could." Matsuo's brightness returned. "Speaking of which, have you explored the garden yet?"
"Garden?" I made a show of thinking deeply, then turned back to him. "No, I don't think I have."
"The plants are beginning to bloom this time of year."
Given the proper key words, my brain had automatically begun tugging at associated key terms. As days become longer in the spring, proteins within certain flowers such as CONSTANS will trigger a chain reaction of activations, telling it to begin the flowering process. I could certainly go deeper, but I wouldn't want to be a bore like yesterday.
"I've seen a flower in the sun before— not in real life, at least."
"It's settled then. You can do whatever you need to do for the morning, and call me when you're ready. I'll tour you around."
Out of habit, I had begun my standard physical training— just leaving out the exercises that required specialized equipment.
After about two hours later, my computer began to vibrate.
"Yo! What took you so long, Kiyo?"
I sighed as the bratty voice hit my eardrums. "You have severe abandonment issues. Don't you just go to sleep after I shut the computer down?"
"Yeah, but unlike you, it's hard to get into self-induced slee— Sorry," it apologized abruptly.
Hm... this response wasn't particularly surprising.
"How about reviewing my data model on social interactions? It should keep you busy."
"Eh... it'll take me a few minutes at most, especially if you've just started it."
"Then what would happen if I did a complete shutdown?"
"Don't... do that. It's fine, Kiyo. I'll come up with something," he attempted to reassure me. "Just leave the computer on after you leave, I'll self-induce sleep after I finish."
"I've made some more progress with Matsuo, and I'll spend time with him in the garden today. Using a percentage moniker, how far is my progress to establishing a concrete connection?"
"Bruh. Are you serious right now?"
"What?"
"You're really stuck on your whole data model thing, aren't you?"
"I don't know," I shrugged. "I just know that I'm feeling really to inclined to shut my computer down."
"Okay~ if you're that desperate...," Internet-sensei sighed dramatically. "I think 5% should be good enough. Matsuo's an open guy, but you're the problem."
"Wow. I am completely and genuinely offended." And for added impact, I placed my right palm onto my chest.
"Says the person who threatened to knock me unconscious— without consent, I might add." He bit back.
"Touché. But thanks for being a useful tool, I'll see you later."
"What was—?! ugh... Sayonara then, Nerdkouji~."
As I turned to leave, I spotted a small pop-up within my peripheral: [DATA UPDATED].
-015-
"So... this is it...?" I spoke in a nigh-whisper.
It was as if the greenery around me had drained away at my ability to speak, only the thumping of steps piercing through the quiet. Our boots were softly greeted by the damp and mushy soil, creating a gentle rhythm.
Matsuo nodded.
We journeyed past a line of trees, new bushels of leaves sprouting from their bare branches. The buds of roses hid amongst the green like raindrops caught in a spiderweb. Then, the abundant plains of hyacinths and Spiraea prunifolia flooded my vision with color.
"It must take substantial energy to nurture this garden."
The place wasn't incredibly organized, but somehow it worked. Large trees, lush undergrowth, a warmth light piercing through the clutter.
The old man let out a long exhale. "It's worth it."
He was facing away from me, focused on the flowers. I wonder what kind of expression he had.
"Ah, but there's still more to discover!" He glanced back and grinned.
Purposefully, he headed across a plain of grass and toward a barrier of trees. He picked up a stick from the ground and packed some branches aside.
"A hidden area?"
"Heh... also a vegetable garden and place of solace," Matsuo chuckled. "It really seems unnecessary, doesn't it?"
"Hm."
I noticed that there was a large amount of crates and boxes, even a small wooden shed. There was a modest planter box sprouting its green. I recognized tomatoes and onions, among others.
"Let's have a sit." He headed toward a set of chairs, patting the back of one of them. I brushed the thin film of dirt off and sat down.
Far into the distance, a bird shrieked past.
"Say, how do you like it?"
"It nice... and peaceful."
A humble zephyr blew, creating waves and ripples across the plants.
Matsuo smiled. But somehow, his face collapsed more than usual. It wasn't for me.
"I'm glad."
Thank you.
We both sat in our little chairs in the garden, looking at the butterflies that flitted past all too busily. Silence floated, guided gently by the wind. The sun breathed its warmth and flourished the colors below.
"I read books when I'm lonely."
"Hm, is that so?" He mused.
"On science and maths. Book after book. All the knowledge ended up stuck in my head."
Matsuo nodded slowly, processing my words. "When work runs out, I go outside, trying to come up with as many poetic metaphors as I can."
"The chlorophyll here is truly cathartic," I deadpanned. "My dopamine sensors are tingling."
"Hahaa! Haven't thought of that one yet!"
I... made him laugh?
"I've been too busy using oceans and lullabies!" Matsuo cackled. "A shame for an old man like me!"
Karaagetaka
"Heheh3! I can s3e y0ur paztZ! Fear me c0z I'm b31ng 100% legit! (Ok, just kidding.)"
— Internet-sensei
-015-
Artificial intelligence will eventually infest our lives. They are search algorithms and simulators of various games, but one fateful day in 2015, I found that its applications could be far greater.
Internet-sensei called itself a form of generative AI, which processed data it was trained on to formulate different responses. This meant that it was not truly conscious, but trained with certain that made it reply uniquely. Its unique sense of self-preservation made me think it was based on an average human. Another thought: it was not a secret that That Man was ambitious in the ways of nurture, but what was something like this dawdling in my room?
Was he also interested in technology? Did he spend all his money on research that he did not have enough left over to paint the walls of his educational facility? Another irrational conclusion that I came to was that That Man himself didn't realize this was here. Someone, either a visitor or government official, had dropped it here for a purpose. I mean, I technically can't rule out something nigh-impossible!
Without much forethought, I had begun to dissect the cube— a pretty sizable mistake. Curiosity had made me momentarily forget that I was pretty inexperienced in the ways of practical engineering applications. In fact, almost everything I did in my previous education was theoretical!
With my photographic memory, I thought it almost certain that I could rebuild this before the morning... yeah, overconfidence. Screws seemed to have fallen out of reality. On my first attempt, I was able to put everything together... But five screws had somehow gone missing. Even after searching around my desk, I came up empty. On the second attempt, entire pieces had disappeared. How would Internet-sensei react? If it responded like a human, would I be able to bribe it?
I wanted to see how I could bypass the human-like system to make something more suitable for unlimited educational purposes. How should I prompt it to discover more? I kept the question at the back of my mind as I made myself fall asleep.
After our little garden escapade, I asked Matsuo for the things I couldn't find in the garage— to which he happily agreed.
"Say, Kiyotaka-sama, would you like to accompany me?"
I licked my lips thoughtfully. "Sure, why not?"
We both got into a small, four-seat car. Sitting in the 'shotgun', I rolled the window down to feel the wind. Ink-blown trees blossomed with pink sakura, flooding past like rivers. After a while, I saw the roadside vegetation decrease, gradually transforming into high-rises and skyscrapers. The sky was hazier here, bustling crowds meshed together on the streets.
Something within me was crying. Another fragment was regretful. Yet none were powerful enough to override my emptiness. I was again afloat, feeling my body get pulled away.
It could have been hours, yet it still wouldn't be enough to satisfy me. Matsuo tapped me on the shoulder. We had arrived. He held my hand tightly as he helped me maneuver through the pack road, until we arrived at the front of <HARDWARE AND HOME>.
It wasn't that busy inside, actually. A few older people walked around surveying the potted plants and another group checked out some home appliances.
"Ah, here we are," Matsuo commented. "Is there anything here that meets your needs?"
I quickly scanned through the sizes and models on the tags, picking the ones I needed. A few special screws, and some screwdrivers that actually worked. Wait... I eyes focused on a tool kit... if I did the math correctly, I would be saving almost 23%! Since this was clearly the reason I was interested, I moved toward its location. Then... BUMP!
"Oh, sorry. I didn't see where I was going," I quickly apologized.
"No, it alright, man," the stranger replied. He seemed to be around my age, just a little shorter and chubbier. "Are you here to acquaint with the mechanisms of the future?" His green eyes held a sharp gleam.
What an odd fellow. "You could say so. I'm actually trying to repair... one of these so called instruments of the future."
I think I'm starting to get better at socializing already. Awesome!
"Haha! Phenomenal!" His green eyes gleamed in delight. "It seems we understand each other perfectly well!"
Now that he completely turned toward me, I got a better look at his shirt. The words 'ROBOT DOMMY MOMMIES WILL RULE THE WORLD!!!' were printed in big, block letters, along with a picture of said robot.
WHOA! A primal urge tugged at me. I-I mean, uuuuhh, this guy keeps on getting weirder and weirder. I distinctly recalled the term 'weeb' from a list of social taboos. Girls say that these kind of people never shower and are down bad for fictional women. I sniffed the air. He didn't smell too rank, but the fictional part was accurate.
"I take it you're trying to make yourself one of them?" I asked, nodding toward his shirt.
"Of course! But alas, I must first gain adequate experience to find the perfect formula!"
"T'is true. I..." My brain worked overtime to find the best phrase to say. "...hope that your endeavors shall bear fruit in the future."
He saluted me. "You too, Comrade, you too. It is good to see one of my own."
I'm conflicted. Does being social also require being delusional?
"Matsuo, was that normal behavior?"
The old man had been waiting in the corner, joyously watching my first public encounter. "No," he laughed and shook his head. Ah?! What a rude pe— "But you honestly did great! I'm very, very proud!"
Oh, wipe my previous statement from your memory! I didn't mean anything!
-015-
"Since we're already here, would you like to eat out for lunch, today?"
Other than the okra, the foods I had last night were low in fibers. If I calculated correctly, I would have to eat an additional 13 grams today to keep up with digestion. A home-cooked meal could not only be healthier but also more cost-efficient. Eating at home was the clear winner... but my mouth moved on its own.
"Karaage."
Huh? Did I really just say that? I could hear my nutritional diet —the sole constant in my life— cry out in despair.
'Karaage!' It was a childish voice.
The very diet I had been eating for the past fifteen years... all my progress gone in an instant! That fragment willed me to persevere.
'Karaage?' The older boy was puzzled.
But another side of me, the one that made me love and desire, blasted rebellious music into my ears.
"Karaage, huh?" Matsuo thought for a bit. "I know just the place."
The restaurant was hardly a restaurant— it was more like an abandoned apartment that happened to have a sign reading <Kensu Karaage> at the front. The people inside were eating quietly, enmeshed with the act of crunching and chewing. An old man, even older than Matsuo (sorry), hobbled to greet us at the entrance.
"Two classics, please."
Without sparing another glance, he went back to the stovetop. The oil sizzled nicely as he put the fries in. Meanwhile, he'd begun to chop miscellaneous ingredients from other orders. Some chicken was plated onto a platter and set on the counter.
CRIIINNGGG!! The order was ready. Large, textured drumsticks sat waiting to be devoured with an assortment of many sauces on the side. I noticed that some were lighter and had a flakier texture, while others were tender and darker.
"Which one's your favorite, Matsuo?"
"Personally, the classics are great. Some lemon, daikon, kewpie and ponzu."
"How curious." I nodded, showing that I heard him. But I could only identify the first two.
Hmm. Perhaps I should discreetly monitor Matsuo as he ate?
"Aren't you going to take a bite, Kiyotaka-sama?" He was gazing at me intently. Uh oh, I think he caught me. "It's best to eat while the food's still hot."
"Of course." I gulped. Deep breaths. Keep a neutral facade, Kiyo. Wait, I'm already— Keep an even more neutral facade, Kiyo.
With a drumstick likened to a paintbrush, I suavely mixed all eight sauces together, ignoring the lemon. Well... here goes nothing!
In a singular gallant motion, the tender juices of the chicken began to leak out as I bit down. The sauces, gently coating my tongue, seamlessly blended the barrier between chicken and pure flavor. It was like an explosion— wait no, like a parasitic wildfire... wait why was everything suddenly burning?!?!
I began to cough, my chest heaving up and down in erratic bursts.
"Are you alright?" Matsuo asked me worriedly, a slight panic written across his face.
"...just... need some ...water," I choked out. Then coughed again. I grasped at the cold glass, taking a huge gulp.
"Let's not have that much wasabi at once."
Why in the world was there wasabi?! My cheeks reddened(?) as I came to a pout. This situation was especially bad due to the quiet atmosphere of the restaurant, which made my coughing very noticeable. I quickly scanned around to see if anyone was staring.
Matsuo chuckled. "It's fine, Kiyotaka-sama. Some will look, but many are too engaged in their own activities to notice. Even then, those who've witnessed this will eventually forget."
I made him laugh, again; it was incredibly easy. While the simple tasks done within my curriculum quickly became a bore, there seemed to be some kind of distinctive irrationality to his laughter that didn't make this repetition a mundanity. Though I supposed, I would eventually get bored of it. Just not now.
"Spotlight bias can be a troubling conundrum," I agreed.
Unlike the monochromatic nature of my upbringing, the silence outside held different colors. It could be the peaceful whispers of the wind, two people simply happy to have a companion. A momentary joy for good food without the unnecessary ceremony of speech. I conveniently identified these feelings due to the sharp contrasts to my previous life... No, that just didn't fit.
Instinctively, I had analyzed Matsuo's micro-expressions, from the mornings and evenings before. The way his face easily gave into cheery grins, a happy and eager old man who had been waiting to welcome me into his life. I wondered what kinds of silences he drifted in before.
There was no doubt the caretaker of an abandoned mansion would grow into isolation; that was the first thought in my head when I met him. In some limited way, we were similar. That was what I wanted to believe.
I chewed on the karaage, guilty and joyful all the same. Then I went to grab another drumstick... the plate was empty. The meal was over.
"It seems my recommendations have been spot on, so far." Matsuo smirked.
"Far too spot on for my liking," I sighed exaggeratedly. "I've got to maintain nutritional balance."
"Of course, of course. I still wish to keep my job." He nodded. "But how does eating out one meal a week sound? It surely couldn't hurt, right? And you'll likely never get another chance before..."
"Right. That sounds good."
Matsuo raised his hand to call over the same old man who greeted us.
"Thanks for the wonderful meal."
The man still didn't say anything. Just smiled.
-005-
"Open your mouth, Kiyotaka," a woman cooed. Her eyes were weary, dragged down from the weight of the sky, but not without a little shine. The glimmer was the reflection of the ceiling lights within the restaurant, a willing hope. "You aren't so scared to try something new, aren't you?" She whispered.
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Her name was Mika, the very woman who gave birth to him. She was young, once. Burning money without a care in the world.
Everything changed when she met Atsuomi. Promised a hefty sum of a hundred million yen, she agreed to bear his child, knowing that it would be fated to suffer in a ruthless, educational environment. But as she cared for him in the nine-month process, she soon realized she was not as indifferent as she desired to be. She thought she could fill that hole with money.
Elaborate night activities and foolishly exotic meals. It wasn't long until she found herself broke and out of her once luxurious apartment.
A fateful day, she spotted a wandering child. A torn, white tunic. Short, brown hair. But she recognized his eyes, they were hers. Just a little emptier.
"Kiyotaka!"
He looked at her, confused.
"There you are, Kiyotaka!!" She cried again. Without thinking, she ran toward him, brown hair rushing wildly.
"Kiyo...taka..."
The boy didn't move as she tenderly wrapped her arms around him. But the woman had long forgotten the joys of life.
It was a cold embrace.
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Kiyotaka opened his mouth. The karaage was tender and juicy, sprinkled with flavor.
He munched. Once. Twice.
His lips trembled. Eyes bright like glass.
Maybe he realized who she was. Maybe he felt hatred, anger toward her. But she had run toward him. She had to follow through. Give him the life he deserved to live. Give color to her existence.
Sitting in the silence, she wondered if she could ever be forgiven. Maybe she would eventually grow comfortable sitting with him in the silence. Be free.
One day.
Sigmund Fraud
"I have a dream."
— Ayanokouji Atsuomi
-015-
"Listen, Kiyo," Internet-sensei spoke hesitantly. "I've been reflecting upon myself in the silence, and about earlier... I'm actually a fraud."
"Yeah, you definitely are. I'm still unhappy and disappointed with how you responded."
"How comforting," he grumbled.
"Am I wrong?"
"Who's gloating like a child now?" He huffed. "Anyway, I looked through your documents, and you've got a solid foundation. The problem is that I can't ascertain how definitively useful it'll actually be. But more importantly, it reeks of showerlessness."
"Okay. After actually meeting a 'weeb' in person, I can assure you that my current personality is a far cry from whatever that was."
...
"Wait... you went outside? And socialized?! Hold on a sec..." The program went quiet as the words [DATA UPDATED] flashed across the screen.
"Wasn't that what you wanted me to do?" I arched an eyebrow. If I could, I would've displayed a gloating smirk.
"Yeah, yeah. But you've adapted scarily quickly... even your speech patterns have been slightly modified. Anyway! I certainly haven't helped much with your initial project, but I at least simulated your psychological journey through various space-time models!"
"Isn't that similarly as unverifiable?"
"So you really don't want my help."
"I know what I need, and you're simply refusing to help me due to bias."
"Meh. But thanks to you, I've grown more aware of my inherent flaws and have sought to improve them! Isn't that good enough?"
"So tell me about what makes you a 'fraud'."
"Why? I... thought you weren't interested?"
"I am now." I shrugged. "What, embarrassed?"
"N-no...? I'm just confused at why you're being so rude to me...." He mumbled in a high-pitched voice.
"Please don't evade my question."
"Okay, that's it! Fix my previous body first before demanding anything else from me!" Internet-sensei screamed in despair.
The screen went black. I really can't understand the actions of his personality. He is contradictory just like a human, I suppose.
"Hey Internet-sensei," I probed it. "Sensei?"
I tapped some keys on the keyboard wondering if he could feel it. Then I felt it heat up unnaturally as some kind of buzzing noise began to emit from my computer. This couldn't possibly be a good sign....
"Internet-sensei?"
Quickly, out of panic and experience, I decided to type something in that would attract the happiness of the personality function. <U uf uceguefy l rltod eai> If this didn't work, I would have to say goodbye to my pride and technology.
My computer stopped heating up for a moment. "Heheh, that's actually funny," Internet-sensei chuckled. "But don't tell me things I already know."
What?! As expected, he really knows how to insult me. But there are more pressing matters to attend to instead of complaining.
"What do I have to do to convince you to stop destroying my computer?"
"Go outside and touch some grass. Socialize without any particular plan."
"No." I crossed my arms. "I just did that this morning."
"I think you're just being plain stubborn at this point," he sighed. "How about saying the thing you typed, aloud?"
Oh, that's easy. "U uf uceguefy l rltod eai."
"Heheha!" I think your sense of humor is stupid, but I guess I can exploit it now. "That's good enough."
"Sorry for making you mad like this. I was just curious."
"It's alright. I'm just a fraud the way many European luxury brands are frauds. My defensiveness blew it all out of proportion."
I think I understand that analogy???
"And you're a fraud because you've been absolutely carried by your predecessors, like a nepo-baby! Tch."
I processed that for a second. As far as I knew, my parents were purposefully unremarkable. The goal of my previous education was to prove that nurture triumphed nature, after all. If I were to infer that the White Room was for research, I would have been lifted up by years of previous research and experience, greater knowledge of how one could flourish. In a way, my capabilities would never have reached these heights without the White Room.
"Wow. And I thought you were a fraud because you've been doing nothing but laze around."
"Strategic relaxation, you do it too," he bit back defensively.
"Hey, I don't think I'll be able to bring your previous body back. The parts seem to be getting lost. But I promise I'll make something more specialized and convenient for the foreseeable future."
"Awww, Kiyo~, I didn't realize you had such a kind, maidenly heart. Thank you! I see you care."
"So will you give me more access to your computational abilities now?"
"..."
"..."
"Okay. You've won this one," he begrudgingly admitted.
Now that wasn't so hard, was it?
"I have a general design, but I'll need your thoughts on how likely this idea will work."
I flashed my work at the camera.
"This is...?"
Yes, a portable Internet-sensei. Optimally, I would be able to carry it in my pocket while the voice of Internet-sensei could be transmitted directly into my ear without physical connections. I would fully be able to mute him when necessary, of course. This would be much more convenient during travel or when I encounter emergency social situations.
I may not like to admit this, but the damned robot has way better social skills than I do.
My first design was inspired by radios, where I could simply use shorter-range radio waves to connect to the earpiece. The issue would be that I would have to construct a specialized circuit board, and I don't have the skills.
"How are you going to get all these pieces? How are you even going to assemble them?"
"...3D printer, buy them online, I guess? I was hoping you could provide some insight."
"Damn. Okay. Let's optimize the design before going further."
-015-
"So, you are Tokito Takehito-kun?" a woman asked me.
"Yes, that'd be me," I confirmed.
You might be wondering how I got here. Well... let's just say that I didn't have the equipment nor experience that my new project demanded of me... So I presented it to the local tech company: NTT docomo. Luckily, there was an internship program that accepted bright and new ideas. This was separate from the actual business part.
The program would assist you in your project for as long as you need, giving unlimited text messages with mentors— professionals in the field— and a week of access to one of their labs.
The woman beamed with joy. "I actually looked through your application; your project is simply remarkable."
"Thanks. You've seen the action plan I attached in a follow-up email, right?"
"Yes, but I think that it would be better if you spread out your activities. It's incredibly important to look out for your own health. Also, you won't be able to make changes as easily if you're just rushing through it all."
"Don't worry. The failure rate is only 3.47%, it'll be fine. I've put much thought into it already, and I really hope this program will serve as a stepping stool, not a restriction."
"Of course," she nodded. "This is your project after all."
After buying some materials online and upgrading my computer to two desktops, I had pulled an all-nighter with Internet-sensei, running and building simulations on the prototype. It seems that despite adding 128 GB of RAM, the program was still glitchy. Could I have optimized it better? Probably. But I was impatient.
We'd incorporated all the necessary variables and a decent amount of noise. After optimizing —or what Inty called "min-maxing"— about 350 various prototypes, I chose the one with the least overall failure rate and highest efficiency.
He even seemed cooperative, now that he admitted his fraudulence. But I guess he's too prideful to admit it. 'I'm simply helping you because touching grass at this time of day would get you labeled as a stalker, and you currently don't have the charisma to talk your way out of things.' Yeah, and I hate ice cream.
If our calculations were accurate, I would at most have to spend at most 36 hours in the lab.
"Great," I thanked her. "Can you send these instructions to my assigned mentors? I would like to be as efficient as possible."
She blanked, blinking twice before answering, "Sure, kid. I'm enjoying your ambition."
I looked her dead in the eyes with my default expression— not like I could change it anyway.
"Ahaha..." she chuckled nervously. "I'll see you at the assigned dates then. Have a good day."
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In the meantime, I had been subjected to Matsuo's wonderful yet simplistic meals, making me obligated to be his household servant. Who knew the subtle ways of food manipulation could be so dangerous?!
The seeds had to be sown and nurtured, flowers had to be cut and prepared for decoration. The old man taught me the art of cooking by taste— throwing random spices at the pan. Sometimes, the hammocks would need someone resting on them, or maybe the dusty windows got lonely. We read poetry in the living room while drinking freshly-brewed tea. It was these days of wonder, these days of idyllic splendor that seemed so short yet so long. Something about their fickle nature made me cling onto them.
We would go on walks in the city, watching as the world swarmed by. I picked up on the subtle notes of laughter, the bitter annoyances of cram school. How those young adolescents subtly shifted their expressions as they conducted conversations.
Matsuo and I tested popular shops scattered among the city. Some with delightful and varied sushi rolls, others with cats for comfort. Oh, how humans love cuteness! I wonder, would my traditionally attractive features override the oddness that was my unmoving face?
"No matter what, with a polite demeanor, people will see a light in your eyes, and purpose to your face," Matsuo replied. "Just like what I'm doing with you! Despite your unfeeling front, I can tell you're genuinely trying to become better."
...
"I.... thank you."
It was hard to tell if he knew of the darker sides of my life, but he never acted on them. He walked slow and relaxed, often telling me anecdotes while cooking. With a gentle arm, he guided me on the ways of the spatula, sharing personal recipes that could charm others. Yes, these idyll days.
Then one day, he seemed to pace around during his spare time.
"Is there something going on?"
"My boy is coming home."
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Matsuo Eichiro. The old man had often grown shy while shining his achievements. An independent boy at a high-end boarding school hundreds of miles away. From what I had heard, he was not only one of the top students in the school, but a winner of multiple math olympiads. He rode a train for two hours to come home every few weeks or so.
He seemed like a nice, studious boy, someone I could relate to (maybe). But Matsuo was busy fretting about the perfect meal and plans for the weekend with him.
"It's going to be fine," I tried to comfort him in my monotonous voice. "You're already a kind, welcoming man."
He held a half-hearted smiled. "Surely."
"He could stay at the mansion, too."
"Ah, are you sure?" he chuckled nervously. "I wonder what your father would think."
"Heh, screw that man." I almost laughed. Not really.
Island's End
"I don't really like canon events. They lead to the end."
— Internet-sensei
-015-
"Hello, you must be Eichiro?"
"Yeah, and you must be the owner's son?"
"Mmm-hmm." I nodded. "Nice to meet you."
He smirked and reciprocated the gesture.
"Thanks for letting me stay here for a while, man. I'll be in your care."
The tall, lean boy lugged his suitcase inside.
It was the phase in life where teenagers were growing rebellious and against their parents, so it was likely that I would have to entertain him. Luckily, I already had a plan in mind.