《My Shut-In Life With the Worst AI Therapist》 One The pill in my hand writhed in a silvery sheen, miniature probes and metallic fibers drifting aimlessly, as if they were in an invisible wind. Even I didn¡¯t know what it was; all the doctors said was that it was just some kind of ¡°specialized experimental treatment¡± for people like me. But that¡¯s not what they really meant. They, like everyone else, knew I had nothing to offer to society, or humanity, aside from being a test subject. Bastards. They can tell me all they want about how they ¡°wanted to help,¡± or how they ¡°hoped to salvage my wellbeing,¡± or any other shit like that; but they¡¯re all just looking down on me, I know it. No one ever helped me. No one couldn¡¯t be bothered to. Not those teachers trying to lump me into those extra classes, with those jackasses that¡¯d snicker and laugh behind my back. Like I was some kind of animal. Not the school counselor either; she was just as bad, if not worse. Not even Mom or Dad. They thought the best solution was to send me off to therapy. They thought that was the best solution. Never once did they think about helping. I remember, when we were there, that Mom pleaded with the therapist: ¡°I don¡¯t know what you need to do, and I don¡¯t care. Just make him normal.¡± Normal. As if that was something I wanted. No, it was only something she and Dad wanted, something to stop themselves from thinking, I raised a failure of a son. It was all for their self-satisfaction! I turned the pill over in my fingers, admiring it in the dim light of my home ¡ª a flat littered in garbage bags, beer cans and dirty clothes. This wasn¡¯t any nanomachine, I knew that much. It seemed to give off its own kind of glow too, but not like the ¡°Computer-at-max-brightness-in-the-dark¡± kind, but a softer one. It illuminated the grime on my hands, the dirt between my nails; and at times, I could even see my face in the reflection of its titanium membrane. Before I tore myself out of view, anyway. I can¡¯t remember when I started living like this. Can¡¯t remember why. I can¡¯t remember anything, for that matter. But when you live the same day everyday ¡ª getting up in the late afternoon, jacking off, playing games, watching anime ¡ª it all starts to blur. It¡¯s hard enough for me to recall what I ate yesterday, nevermind something that probably started ages ago. Reminiscing never did anyone any good, me especially. I tossed the pill in an empty ramen cup, letting it sink in leftover globs of broth, as I shook my computer awake. It sputtered to life as if in a daze. I should probably consider getting an upgrade ¨C nah, who am I kidding? If I had that kind of money, I¡¯d spend it all on gacha! I¡¯ve been needing one more dupe for an E6 Zeriri. When the screen finally woke, it opened to a¡­ Ah, christ. I forgot to click off this shit. It was some JAV with a girl who looked far too young to be on the platform, wrapped in ropes and gagged. Admittedly, I stared a bit too long at it before I minimized the screen, wiping the drool off the corner of my mouth. ¡°I¡¯ll save you for later,¡± I said lecherously. Drops of spittle bled onto the counter as I did, landing next to some crumbs. I wiped it off with my forearm. My voice was hoarse, reedy, raspy; though less so than usual, considering I¡¯d just spoken to one of the people in charge of my treatment. But even he seemed disgusted at my voice ¨C classic fucking normie, in his stupid white coat and badge. For someone who was supposed to ¡®help me,¡¯ he looked at me as if I were a rat. As I slid on my headphones, I was bombarded with notification pings. The group chat must¡¯ve been active, I thought to myself, opening up Discord. I was right ¨C the icon next to the party read 999+, more messages than the app could show in the hotbar. (Gugu12) Hai friends :3 I typed. Immediately, the other people who were typing stopped. I couldn¡¯t see who it was, though. (Kunene) KILL YOURSELF One of them said. Ah, Kunene. That cropped h-image she had as her profile picture gave it away. She always seemed to change it every other day, I swear. It was a bit strange seeing her talk, considering most of the time, she was playing some new ero-game. (Kunene) stupid fat fuck go die fucking loser (Regrear_r) But ur not any different? Lol (Regrear_r) Quit fkn acting like ur better than us tard Regrear_r. His profile picture was the standard icon, and this was his¡­ fifty-somethingeth account. He got banned so many times for flooding public servers with porn. Even I wouldn¡¯t go that far ¨C unless I was in a foul mood. But even then, I¡¯d probably just send gore or something. Leaves more of an impact. (Gugu12) Wtf were u guys even talking about, is it js some more goonshit (Agrif_Xa) For once, no. Well, they started with that. (Afrif_Xa) But they ended up His profile was some insignia that looked barely like a skull. Agrif_Xa. I didn¡¯t know much about him, aside from the fact that he¡¯d apparently ran an underground drug ring. At least, that¡¯s what he claimed. He also claimed that he¡¯d gotten away with it too, and that his rich parents-or-grandparents bailed him out. But I never saw anything on the news about it. (Kunene) SHUT THE FUCK UP AGRIF (Kunene) I was telling Grear that he¡¯s a stupid fuck for trying to buy loli off those fake sites (Kunene) Instead off of me (Regrear_r) IT WASNT FAKE U FCKKN IDIOT I LITERALLY SHOWED U THE REVIEWS AND SHIT (Regrear_r) I was on Tor anyway, with VPN (Regrear_r) U charge too much anyway u 1/10 slut Of course it was between these two. Every single time I went on, they were fighting about something. About a game, about an anime, or a character from an anime, or an idol or whatever¨C they¡¯d just be at each other''s throats nonstop. It got too annoying even for me at times. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. (Kunene) I wish Luda were here just to put u back in ur shitty fkn place (Kunene) u microdick dipshit loser (Regrear_r) Ud know all about microdicks (Regrear_r) Cuz those r the only ppl that pay u any mind (Regrear_r) Id kms if I knew my daughter let otaku losers do her just for rent (Regrear_) Retard sow cunt (Kunene) Do it either way u wont be missed (Kunene) No balls, shithead (Kunene) Ud be doing the world a favor Hold on. (Gugu12) What even happened to Luda ? He hasn¡¯t been on in months (Kunene) Who gives a shit (Regrear_r) U think he went full normie (Agrif_Xa) That guy? No. Out of all of us, he was the worst. He probably ended up arrested or dead. (Gugu12) He just stopped talking one day (Gugu12) I¡¯m worried about him (Gugu12) Just a little No one said anything. Not for a while. I sucked in a breath, not knowing if I said the right thing ¨C whatever they decided was ¡°right,¡± anyway. I rubbed fidgeted with my hands, my eyes involuntarily sweeping across my desk, away from the computer, fearing what they¡¯d say. I let out that breath; still, I felt unnerved. The space below the chat box blinked with ¡°Kunene is typing,¡± ¡°Agrif_Xa is typing,¡± ¡°Regrear_r is typing,¡± but not a thing was sent. Every time they started, they stopped mere moments later, only to start again. Great work, me. I killed the mood. (Kunene) Ur corny for that lmfaoooooo (Kunene) U should follow him into the grave (Regrear_r) Wtf (Regrear_r) Fuck u Nene (Kunene) ? (Kunene) We hardly even knew him (Kunene) Just another stranger to me, like all of u (Regrear_r) Ur so fucked in the head (Regrear_r) Even worse than the rest of us (Regrear_r) Being hikki doesn¡¯t mean being an asshole (Agrif_Xa) I¡¯m with Nene on this one. (Agrif_Xa) We only knew ¡°Luda.¡± Not whoever was behind the screen. The same way I only know Kunene, Gugu12, and Regrear_r. (Agrif_Xa) Even if he did die, so what? It¡¯s not gonna affect us in any way lol Regrear continued to type, but at that point, I already closed out. I didn¡¯t want to see the rest of that conversation. I looked down, my thin, pale arms cradled in my lap between my pencil-thin legs. The dim light of a QuorChan forum illuminated my figure, briefly, in the dark, buzzing in incorrigible apathy. I never really had a decent conversation with Luda ¨C he was more terrible and abrasive than Nene ¨C but even so, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder about him. Agrif and Nene were right, though. Even if he was dead, what could we do about it? He¡¯d just be forgotten. Another name that popped up here and there. Then, why did I feel so¡­ unsettled? Then it hit me. Luda could¡¯ve been any of us. Tomorrow it could be Nene. One day, she¡¯d stay silent. Regrear wouldn¡¯t have anyone to argue with, and any pings mentioning her would fall on deaf ears. I remember a picture she sent once, in the groupchat; filthy, smothered in grease, with a hoodie that looked two sizes large and old. With her sunken cheeks, split black hair ends, red hair ties and dark circles around her eyes, she reminded me of Ame-chan from NSO. She looked hollow. Tomorrow, that sickly figure could be dangling from the ceiling by a rope; sprawled across a semen-stained mattress, overdosing; bleeding out at the corner of her room from the wrists. Tomorrow it could be Regrear. One day, Kunene would have no one there to rebuttal her insanity, her unrelenting storm of insults and snide. Or maybe, it¡¯d be after she¡¯d be gone, Final Destination style. Agrif would have no one to talk to about Hellraisers 3, and I¡¯d have no one to complain with about the stares from those normies. Another hole. One day it could¡¯ve been me. And no one would be there for me. Life would go on. For all of us, it was never a matter of if ¨C but a matter of when. The world went quiet, even more so than usual. Enveloped in a dread I only knew whenever I took a step outside; the feeling that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. My heart leapt to my throat. I could hear it beating in my chest, an arrhythmic cadence of reverberating thumps. I didn¡¯t know why. All times until now, I¡¯ve just accepted death as an inevitability. I joked about it, contemplated it, came close to it at times. But I¡¯ve never really grappled with it as a topic of itself. As if it were a problem. But how long could I live like this? One more week, two more weeks ¨C another month, another year? Could I even make it another day? It¡¯s not like I wanted to end up the way I am. It¡¯s the only thing that¡¯s worked for me. The only way to avoid the lashes, the beatdowns, the bullying, the staring. The extortions, the pressure, the eyes, the pity. Maybe this wasn¡¯t a way to live at all ¨C but what choice did I even have? ¡°How long d¡¯you think it¡¯d take for them to find me?¡± I once asked. And Nene responded, somewhat in earnest, somewhat in snide: ¡°If you¡¯re lucky, never. So you won¡¯t be looked down on even after you die.¡± When the cleaners came to take out the trash ¨C to take out me ¨C I don¡¯t know what they¡¯d think. They¡¯d just see it as another kodokushi. Another ¡°poor soul¡± whose life ended too abruptly, or someone too weak to keep living, or someone like this, or someone like that. Not realizing that it was their fault I¡¯d end like that. Not realizing that the blame fell upon them. ¡°How did it end up like this?¡± I said. ¡°I¡­¡± The words splintered in my throat, raking across my vocal chords like a spike across mud. Something wet dripped down from my eye, streaming slowly down my cheek, dropping onto that grubby, disgusting floor. This world ¨C how dare it have the audacity to treat me like this, only to feign pity at the last second, at the moment it was too late! No. I fell back to my bed, cellophane crunching and aluminum clattering in the background. It wasn¡¯t only that. My eyes drifted back to that dim sheen from before, emanating, pulsing softly from that empty ramen cup. I took it once more, beholding it in the center of my palm. That guy yesterday ¨C he told me a lot of things, most of which I ignored, but he did say that the pill would help. With what, I didn¡¯t know. But I¡¯d take anything at this point. In the darkness of my room, it was a star plucked from the sky. Maybe it¡¯d take me there. To the sky ¨C no, any other world. Just not this one. I shoved it into my mouth, the ferrous taste enveloping my tongue, those fibers brushing against the roof of my mouth and prickling against my cheek. I could feel it moving towards the back of my throat as if I¡¯d swallowed a centipede. It went down, down ¨C then the world went black. Silent. Two I slept like the dead, and awoke the same way. God knew what that pill did to my body, but all I remember was passing out the moment it crawled down my throat. Calling it ¡®gross¡¯ was a horrid understatement. A beam of light pelted my closed eyelids. No matter how hard I tried to, I couldn¡¯t stop the morning from leaking in. I¡¯d tried everything: Put up countless blankets and curtains, draping down from the top of the roof, stuffing stained satin pillows on the tiny windowsill, covering the glass ¨C but nothing worked. A little light always found itself poking through. God damn the sun. ¡°Get up.¡± I scrambled to a sit, panicked, covering my figure with a blanket. My eyes swept across the room, my head whipping from corner to corner, heart beating three-thousand times a minute. Who the hell was that? Was I hearing things? Did I finally lose my mind? I heard a laugh from above, jeering and haughty. A¡­ girl¡¯s voice? ¡°This place is disgusting! You live here?¡± Who¨C What¨C I couldn¡¯t even form a sentence. My bottom lip quivered, cycling through every variation of ¡°Wh¨C¡± before eventually dribbling out incomprehensible garbage. The voice sighed. There was the tiniest crack in it, like an audio glitch from a computer. Barely noticeable. ¡°Y¡¯know, if you¡¯re not gonna say anything, it¡¯s just gonna make things much harder than it needs to be.¡± From behind! I whirled my head around, but only saw the tatami floor. Then, as I slowly turned back ahead, it came into view. She came into view, floating towards the ground from the ceiling, upside down. ¡°Hey.¡± The first thing I noticed about her was the steel. Fibers and cables of metal spiraled up and around where her neck should''ve been, stopping just below the ear. There were so many moving parts embedded in it: Things that spun, whirred, and gave off light in soft pulses. Together, they formed a structure that looked like a human neck. A circular piece at the front sank flush in the middle, with wires extending out up to her head and down to her shoulders. Her hair was a light burgundy color, spilling from a side-ponytail to her shoulders, her eyes piercing and narrow. Two great lines, sleek and sharp, ran from her chin to her temple, creating borders between her cheeks and the rest of her face. When I looked closely, I saw more bits of machinery hidden under the skin. As she maneuvered in the air, turning right-side up, I was surprised that the rest of her looked stunningly human. Had she appeared on the street, I¡¯d have assumed her an underground idol. But she wasn¡¯t in the street. She was in my home. She was an invader. Her face scrunched in discomfort. I could hear the tiniest mechanical clicks coming from her. ¡°Can you stop staring like that? It¡¯s rude.¡± I scampered away. I probably looked like a roach, wrapped beneath a padded blanket and tin cans. ¡°Nevermind. I should¡¯ve expected less from a hikki like you.¡± A silver jacket materialized out of nowhere, wrapping itself around her body. She patted it down as if the room¡¯s filth got on her clothes. ¡°I should introduce myself. EMPHAI-Proto, ID-0000011. I¡¯m the experimental treatment you consented to.¡± ¡°GET THE FUCK OUT!¡± I roared. Viscous globs of saliva flew from my mouth as I trembled at the loudness of my own voice. I was furious. No, I was¡­ scared. No ¨C I was both? But that didn¡¯t matter. I could feel my eyes stretched open, watery at the corners, as if held apart by a clamp. ¡°LEAVE!¡± ID-0000011 looked at me incredulously. She blinked once, then twice, then narrowed her eyebrows in contempt. ¡°That¡¯s not going to work on me. Not like it did for¡­¡± She closed her eyes. That central piece in her neck glowed vibrantly blue for a moment. ¡°Ouch. Not just Mom and Dad, but your older brother too? You¡¯re a real piece of work.¡± Her words were like daggers, and with each one, I felt a stab through my body. But I shouldn¡¯t. All they did was demean me, argue with me, yell at me. To hell with them! No, they probably would¡¯ve found their way there anyway. And yet¡­ ¡°Keep them out of your mouth! They were scum! Looking down on me, at the same time acting like they cared. All the way ¡®til the end!¡± ¡°Talk about the pot calling the kettle black,¡± She groaned. ¡°I don¡¯t really care. I¡¯m looking through your memories ¨C all they did was try and help. A bit more than what you deserve, isn¡¯t it?¡± The floodgates broke loose. She was in my head?! Not even my thoughts were safe! Clenching my teeth, I snatched an empty beer bottle from the floor and threw it with all the force of an NPB pitcher. But to my shock, it just phased right through her. As if she didn¡¯t exist. I didn¡¯t even pay it any mind as it shattered against the opposite wall, shards spilling over my keyboard. It made me forget about my anger, if only momentarily. ¡°I can see why they sent you away.¡± She said, her complexion a mask of scorn. ¡°I would too if your second response to conversation is¡­ that.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°What¡­¡± I was still slack-jawed, the words barely dribbling out. ¡°Are you?¡± ¡°I already told you. EMPHAI-Proto, ID-0000011. The experimental treatment you signed up for.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°Someone should¡¯ve come by a couple days ago for a debriefing. To tell you what¡¯s going on.¡± The guy from yesterday. Frankly, I wasn¡¯t paying attention to what he said. He probably did mention something about the effects, but at the time, I just wanted him gone. ¡°No one did.¡± I said. Another blue glow flashed from her neck. ID-0000011 scowled, and I felt a pang of shame rattle my body. ¡°I might as well start from ground zero. That pill you swallowed? That was me. There¡¯s no easy way to say this, but: that was a robot that induces a sort of programmed schizophrenia in your brain so we can communicate. It also grants me access to your memories, but not your feelings. Therefore,¡± She said, reclining in midair, as if lounging on a couch. ¡°For this treatment to work, you¡¯re going to need to start being honest.¡± ¡°You gave me SCHIZOPHRENIA?!¡± ¡°This is why you should¡¯ve listened to the other guy. I¡¯m not programmed for euphemisms.¡± I stared at her for a moment in utter shock. When I looked away, I wrapped myself more in my sheets, instinctively putting my hands to my head like I had a migraine. At any moment, I feared that the pill ¨C no, that thing ¨C would just burst out of my cranium like from that one movie Alien. Or even worse: that it¡¯d never leave. ¡°Get out of my head.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t do that. Not until you¡¯re past your hikki days.¡± ¡°Get out.¡± ¡°No can do.¡± Something in me snapped. I tore up the floor, taking up all the debris I could find and flinging it towards her. Chip bags, torn edges of empty cardboard boxes, a half-empty soda can, a broken leg of a chair, a balled shirt ¨C even the sheets I wrapped myself around, after I ripped them off my body. I screamed profanities and curses the entire way ¨C hoping that something, anything, would dampen that unamused look she wore ¨C but they, like everything else, just went through her. Nothing worked. And when I realized, I sunk back to the floor, crouched against my closet door. This wasn¡¯t real. This couldn¡¯t be real. ¡°That aggression¡¯s something we¡¯ve gotta work on.¡± She said, materializing some sort of tablet and pen from nowhere. ¡°Next time, how about taking a few breaths? Recall a happy memory or something?¡± ¡°As if.¡± I spat out. ¡°So I¡¯m stuck with you?!¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± ¡°Until?¡± She put the point of the pen to her chin, pondering for a moment. ¡°Until you get better. God knows when that is, but you¡¯ll be stuck with me until then.¡± ¡°What if I died? What if I ended my life?¡± She raised an eyebrow, momentarily pausing what she was jotting down on that tablet. I couldn¡¯t get a read on her. Was that surprise? ¡°I¡¯m not real, so it wouldn¡¯t really bother me. I¡¯m just an AI. But I think you and I both know you won¡¯t do that.¡± I wish I could¡¯ve said something back. Not because I had an argument to give, but to keep her from having the last word. But I couldn¡¯t. And it was because she was right. I crawled over to my computer, brushing off shards of glass by the mouse. The AI gave me a weird look. ¡°You¡¯re not going to clean that up?¡± I didn¡¯t respond. ¡°If you step on that it could get infected. Nevermind the bleeding, the nerve damage, and the overall unpleasantness. Database records show you¡¯re due for another tetanus shot ¨C that was seven years ago. Are you seriously going to risk your life over that? How stupid would it be if you died from a glass splinter?¡± ¡°Can you shut up?¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re forgetting why I¡¯m here,¡± She said, drifting through the air, stopping just above the computer. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to get you back into society, yes. But I can¡¯t do that if you¡¯re dead.¡± ¡°I thought it wouldn¡¯t really bother you.¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t. But this is all for your sake. How long can you ¨C no ¨C will you live like this?¡± I slung my headphones around my neck, typing in my login as fast as my fingers could let me. She was just going to keep nagging, nagging, nagging. And if I couldn¡¯t get her out of my room ¨C out of my head ¨C then I¡¯d just have to ignore her. But, surprisingly, she didn¡¯t say anything. Rather, she¡¯d disappeared from above my computer, and was now hovering by one of the shelves I had against the wall, where I kept some of my¡­ memorabilia. Figures and whatnot. ¡°Hey!¡± I shouted frantically. She was eyeing one of them curiously. ¡°Stay away from there!¡± She gave me a leering side eye, then backed away, floating towards the ceiling. I half expected her to vanish into the air. ¡°So? What¡¯re you going to do now?¡± ¡°What I always do.¡± But of course I didn¡¯t actually say that. My music was playing at full blast now: some breakcore track that I¡¯d heard a thousand times before. Whatever she was saying was drowned out by a discordant symphony of drums and synth. She was an AI, but even she had to give up eventually. Just like Mom. Just like Dad. Just like everyone else did. Three I was wrong. It¡¯s been almost a week and half now. She was still here. And it¡¯d be one thing if she¡¯d be talking the entire time, trying to infuriate me to death, but that¡¯s not what she did. The first few times, she¡¯d tried initiating conversation ¨C but it was less of a conversation and more so prods and jabs about my life ¨C but after a while, she stopped. At first, I thought I was successful; that she¡¯d disappeared, and I could resume my life again; but no. She¡¯d just be watching, silently, over my shoulder, or by the corner, or directly above. It made my skin crawl ¨C I couldn¡¯t even jack off with her around! I tried yelling at her to quit it, and to just disappear; at best, she shrugged me off. At worst, it was as if I¡¯d said nothing. I sauntered over to one of the open boxes where I kept my food, an array of instant ramen, neatly packed in a cardboard crate. Or at least, where they would¡¯ve been. The box was empty. Great. The AI floated up to my side like a ghost. ¡°Out?¡± I ignored her, heading back to my computer. So many things could be delivered nowadays; mattresses, games, books ¨C even cars and fridges! But I didn¡¯t have the money to afford anything like that. The living expenses I got for taking the treatment could only buy so much. Clicking through an array of tabs, I went back to one I always kept open: A page for food on some website. The cheapest options were dehydrated meals and fake meat, but those were disgusting. I wanted ramen. I saw the AI¡¯s forming disapproval from my peripherals. ¡°You realize those don¡¯t ship within the hour, right?¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°So what¡¯re you going to eat now?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± She frowned. Her lips pursed for a moment. ¡°Mens sana in corpore sano.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t speak English.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not English. It¡¯s Latin. A sound mind in a sound body, Aristotle.¡± This time, she said it in Japanese. ¡°He argued that a sound, educated mind could only be housed in a body of similar qualities.¡± ¡°How do you know this?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been programmed by the best. The Internet practically courses through my veins.¡± She said. ¡°But that¡¯s not the point. I can¡¯t begin to help you out of your shut-in situation if you won¡¯t begin to help yourself. And part of that includes not starving to death.¡± I turned back to my computer, but my stomach betrayed me, growling like a lion. The AI raised an eyebrow. ¡°When was the last time you ate?¡± ¡°You should know. You¡¯re always watching me, day in and day out. Or better yet, just pry through my brain again, like last time!¡± ¡°The knowledge would have more value if it came from your mouth.¡± What a joke. ¡°Bleeding-edge technology my ass. You¡¯re one buggy AI if you can recall Aristotle, but not that.¡± ¡°Indeed. I am an experimental model, after all.¡± ¡°Your microdick programmer must¡¯ve been some shitty dropout. Can¡¯t even get his shit together and code something that works. Probably some rejected scientist who couldn¡¯t get someone else to properly code his project. As much of a failure as you are.¡± Something in the AI clicked. Literally. A loud mechanical snap sounded from her direction, but as I looked over, I only saw her towering before me, a terrifyingly menacing red emanating from her eyes, from the circuitry in her body. When did she move?! My body reacted before my mind could, shrinking in fear, hands frozen on the countertop as I clasped my mouse. ¡°My objective,¡± She said brusquely, and for the first time, robotically. ¡°Is to rehabilitate you. I am here because you cannot do it yourself. I am here because my creator is a great man who wanted to help people like you. People like you who do nothing but masturbate and play video games and rant and cry all day, people like you, who shiver at the thought of going outside. You may insult me all you wish. You will not insult him. Am I clear?¡± I was still. Paralyzed. I dared not move. ¡°Am I clear?¡± I nodded slowly. She backed off. ¡°You programmed for that, too?¡± ¡°No.¡± She said. ¡°People like you will lash out at everything to avoid facing themselves. To you, it may be justified. But to me? It¡¯s a horrible projection.¡± The corner of my eye twitched. ¡°I despise you.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. That tablet-thing materialized again, falling slowly into her hands. She wrote something down. ¡°At least you¡¯re being honest.¡± She turned it around, letting it float over to me. I grabbed it ¨C I knew it wasn¡¯t actually there, but for some reason, I could feel it. The hardness of the board, and how the heat from my fingers were siphoned out by its coldness. On the screen was an array of notes, mostly arranged like log entries. I didn¡¯t have time to read all of them, but today''s: Neural readings suggest that the patient spoke in earnest ¨C a trait unseen prior. ¡°As I was saying,¡± The AI said. ¡°A sound mind cannot exist in a disturbed body. The first step of your recovery is to regain some semblance of a sound body. Hard for you, I know. But you are not going to starve. Not under my watch.¡± ¡°So?¡± I said. ¡°Not like you can make delivery go any faster.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t. You¡¯re going to buy the food today. At a grocery store.¡± She made a gesture, and the tablet floated back to her. ¡°You are going outside.¡± It was like my heart took a swan-dive off of a building. I tried not to let my fear show. ¡°No way. Not happening.¡± ¡°What else are you going to do, then? Starve while wasting your time away? Scroll through the same forums again? Screw around in another server? It¡¯s a wonder you¡¯ve survived thus far. When¡¯s the last time you¡¯ve even been outside?¡± ¡°Fuck you.¡± I said. ¡°Go probe around in my head some more, rusty shit-bot. See if you find the answer there.¡± The AI looked to consider the option, but ultimately decided against it. She drifted a bit closer, sinking to the floor level, so that her head was in line with mine, her eyes burning. ¡°How long will you live like this? No, in the first place ¨C do you even want to get better?¡± I refused to answer. ¡°Because this treatment was for people genuinely seeking a way out,¡± She continued. ¡°Of this way of life. They¡¯ve acknowledged that there¡¯s a problem, and they want to be rid of it. Obviously it¡¯s not a smooth process, but you; it¡¯s as if you don¡¯t really care.¡± I said nothing. ¡°Everyone else is putting in all their effort to make this work. I¡¯ve seen previous patient logs. At this rate, you¡¯re going to be the first failure. Is that what you want? Do you really want to live like this forever?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± I shouted. My head hung low, hair curtaining my eyes. I could only see the ground, and my trembling, clenched hands. ¡°Of course there¡¯s a problem! Everywhere I go, everyone I see; people I knew; they¡¯re making their way up in life! Meanwhile, I¡¯m stuck here, with you, in this shitty¡­ shit-hole of a life! If I could kill myself, and be reincarnated, and start it all over again, I¡¯d do it in a heartbeat! But that¡¯s a fantasy. At this point, I can¡¯t do anything! There¡¯s nothing to do ¨C no goal or dreams ¨C and all I can do is survive. Survive, until I can¡¯t keep this up anymore.¡± Images of people I knew flashed in my mind. The troupe that always beat me down after school, taking what little I had; the condescending jeers of the teachers and the psychiatrists and therapists, looking at me like I was some sort of freak. At some point, even my brother looked at me the same; and then, the people on the streets, with a thousand pairs of invisible eyes crawling on my back. ¡°You say that everyone else¡¯s been making this work. I call bullshit. For people like us, we¡¯re up against the world! For people like us¡­¡± I trailed off. It wasn¡¯t my fault. From the very beginning, life dealt me a shitty hand. And in the end, what choice did I have? The AI kept quiet for a moment. I don¡¯t blame her. The last time I went on a tirade like this, I¡¯d been slapped for being, as Dad called it, ¡°A pussy-loser of a son.¡± This was much more tame, but about the reaction I expected. ¡°That¡­ sucks.¡± She said. ¡°But¡­ Well, I can¡¯t really do much about it. All I can do is guide you. Though¨C¡± She turned away for a moment, as if preparing to say something heavy. ¡°Ok. From my understanding, you¡¯re scared of the people outside. How they look at you. How they¡¯d treat you.¡± I slowly raised my head. What was she going on about? ¡°What I can do now, with your permission, is temporarily rewire your brain so you won¡¯t see them. The people. You¡¯ll go buy your food, about a week¡¯s worth, check it out by yourself, and come straight back. I¡¯ll be there to guide you the entire way. If trouble arises, I¡¯ll warn you ¨C but I doubt it will. Database logs indicate that the crime rate¡¯s close to zero here.¡± I pored over the idea for a moment. At first, I wanted to immediately say no; but I¡¯d be lying if I said the thought wasn¡¯t enticing. I¡¯ve been no stranger to hunger pains, but each one hurt as bad as the very first ¨C if not more. ¡°How would I pay?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± The AI said. ¡°I¡¯ll handle that front. You just get there.¡± I couldn¡¯t bring myself to say yes. My eyes fluttered over my computer. I wanted to go back there. I¡¯d already spent most of my sanity arguing with this stupid robot; the last thing I wanted to do was go outside, much less run errands. A part of me still feared the gazes, even though I wouldn¡¯t see them. They¡¯d never go away. She could rewire or reshape or reprogram my brain all she wanted, but I doubt they¡¯d ever truly disappear. Yet, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to say no, either. Something about her words pricked a part of my mind. Not because it was so awfully off the mark, but because it was so poignant and resounding. I couldn¡¯t keep living like this. I took the pill in desperation, hoping it¡¯d magically make my life better. A thought crossed my mind about the ¡®others.¡¯ I wonder what they were like. ¡°Hey,¡± I said. ¡°The others. What were they like?¡± ¡°The other what?¡± ¡°The other patients. Were they¡­¡± Like me? ¡°I can¡¯t tell you the details ¨C that violates HIPAA law. However¡­¡± The thing on the AI¡¯s neck flashed emerald. ¡°I can say that they all come from a variety of backgrounds. Salarymen, students, and everything in between. Some of them your age, others older, others younger. But they all made it through. So you can too, right?¡± I guess it was meant to sound encouraging, but all it did was pile up a stack of pressure. Nevertheless, I felt relieved. Maybe it was because misery found company, if only in knowledge alone. Maybe it was because I felt like I could succeed too. Maybe it was because¡­ I wasn¡¯t alone in this. Or something corny like that. ¡°So?¡± She said, ¡°Will you go?¡± This could go horribly wrong. I could end up dead, or dying, or depressed and crying. Maybe. The people were still out there, even though I couldn¡¯t see them. If life really did hate me, I¡¯d never take another step out again after this trip. I hope it didn¡¯t. Because I started feeling hopeful. And I was becoming famished. Four That door. It stood over me, towering, a sentinel. A cerberus of my own design; and the landlord¡¯s. The aged frames and the frayed edges, the splintering wood and the peeled paint seemed to say: Don¡¯t bother. The world¡¯s out to get you. Look what it did to me. The light from the sun cast faded coronas in the bottom gap, and when I looked at it for longer than two seconds, I swear I could see shadows pass by. People? No, monsters? Ah, what was the difference? I wouldn¡¯t even see them. I can¡¯t recall the last time I¡¯d washed my clothes. It¡¯s been so long, that I¡¯d forgotten how. The old tracksuit I¡¯d had from my student days was the only thing that could¡¯ve been considered ¡®clean¡¯ ¨C if you didn¡¯t mind the splotches, grime and dirt. Luckily, it was mostly black; the stains wouldn¡¯t be too obvious from a distance. But the smell would be. Even so, I threw it on; rather than outgrowing it, it was like it outgrew me. I felt smaller in it. No surprise there. Shivering. I barely caught myself shivering. It wasn¡¯t cold in my room, but it was like I¡¯d been stranded in Hokkaido smack-dab in the winter. I thought I¡¯d mustered enough courage. But what if someone I knew came up to me? And what if the rewiring stopped working? What if they started¡­ talking to me? What would I say? That I¡¯d become a shut-in? A loser? My leg bobbed up and down as I clenched my teeth in agitation. Maybe this wasn¡¯t such a good idea after all. But the AI floated to my side. Silently, she gestured towards the door. I steeled my nerves. It¡¯d be fine. It¡¯ll be quick. In and out. I placed a shaky hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. A small click, reverberating through my room like the drop of a boulder. For a moment, I paused. My fears caught back up to me, clawing my back, tethering me to the comfort ¨C the safety ¨C of my room. Then in another, I opened the door. Bright! The light rushed into my eyes like a bullet train. My eyes, which had grown so used to the dark, immediately shut closed; even so, I still saw the flashbang. My body contorted as if I¡¯d been smothered in acid as I felt the heat of the day lash across my skin, like arrays of needles pressing on my body. It was like I was seeing the world through opening and closing shutters with how much I blinked. Even in the shade, I¡¯d only allow my eyes to open a sliver. It was just that bright ¨C or maybe, my room was just that dark. ¡°Don¡¯t be dramatic. Look.¡± Gradually, my eyes parted, though still tense, prepared to slam shut again. But there was no need. My apartment was on the second floor facing the street, so I had a perfect view of the road, the cars, the other buildings straight across; even so, when had the world been this¡­ bright? The setting was far from it, but to me it was picturesque. The trees, a verdant, spry green, the morning dew burned off in the afternoon heat; the shining glare of car windows, truck mirrors, glass backlights of motorbikes. And the great brilliance of the azure sky, parted clouds drifting between the sun, a bird or two flapping through the cobalt canvas. The heat had a smell ¨C of vacation, of air on the wind, of springly youth and nascent hope. It felt less malicious. My eyes fluttered rapidly, as if I were in a vivid dream. The voice of the AI was an ebbed noise in the background. It was only until she nearly shouted in my ear that I finally took notice. ¡°Hey!¡± ¡°Sorry! Sorry¡­ What were you saying?¡± ¡°I was asking you what you thought, seeing that you haven¡¯t seen the sunlight in ages. Any impressions?¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± I sucked in a breath. How could I begin to describe it? ¡°It¡¯s the same street as always. Same sun. Same street.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°It¡¯s too bright.¡± I looked back to the street. It was empty. But at the far corner: A barrel-chested figure in a black suit and combover, carrying a suitcase I could get flattened by. His face was wrought with wrinkles, and he had a slouch in his step. He looked bitter, as if he¡¯d never smiled in his life. The foot soldier of society: The office worker. He was coming this way, past my building. No. To my building. As he inched closer, I realized it was Yamada ¨C one of my neighbors. And he was heading my way. I whipped my head to the AI. ¡°The thing!¡± I blurted, my voice frantic. ¡°The rewiring! Do the thing!¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Surely that won¡¯t be necessary. He doesn¡¯t know you. And even if he does, it¡¯d be a good way for me to gauge how truly socially inept you are.¡± I could feel the blood drain from my face, siphoning what was left of the little color it had. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for fucking around! You promised!¡± Suddenly, I heard steps from the edge of the hall. Far away ¨C nevertheless reverberating. Big, lumbering, abrasive. As if they came from a giant. My heart shot to my throat. Droplets of sweat pooled below my brow. I could already feel myself edging back into the door, back into my room. Even after I¡¯d come this far. The AI must¡¯ve seen me step back. She looked like she¡¯d expected this, yet was disappointed regardless. With a snap of her fingers, a translucent blue panel appeared in thin air, with real-time graphs, 2D knobs, dials, notes and the like. My eyes were drawn to one thing in particular, a number next to a heart read: 164 BPM. ¡°I suppose I did. One moment.¡± That moment stretched out for several years. I saw the man¡¯s shoe and the edge of his suitcase peek out from behind the corner, as if it were in slow motion. The rest of him followed, and as it did, I could see even more of his dour expression, and his narrow eyes falling upon me. But not for long; from the middle of his body, a pulse of chopped blue light radiated from his chest. As it spread to his extremities, the parts it touched vanished, until he completely disappeared mid-gait. ¡°There,¡± The AI chimed from beside me. ¡°He¡¯s gone. Unless people get really up in your face, you won¡¯t see them.¡± ¡°I see.¡± I let out a tense exhale. I knew he didn¡¯t actually vanish. He was probably still shooting glances my way, thinking to himself: That kid went out? I thought he¡¯d died. It¡¯d be better if he did. Freeloading, useless scum. Though at the very least, I couldn¡¯t see him do it. It wasn¡¯t exactly ¡°out of sight, out of mind¨C¡± but it was the next best thing. ¡°Thanks. I guess I owe you.¡± ¡°You owe yourself a meal,¡± She said. The console-panel thing disappeared with a zip! ¡°Do you remember where 7-Eleven is?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll guide you, then.¡± She floated ahead towards the end of the corridor, turning back to me. It was a short distance away, but to me, I might as well have been crossing the Grand Canyon. The gray concrete stretched all the way to the horizon¡¯s edge, and I felt so, so tiny. Fuck it. Fuck. Just go. The first step I took out of the doorway was wobbly, shaky; as if with the slightest breeze, I¡¯d knock over and tumble to the floor. Like I was just learning to walk again. The next step was only slightly better. I breathed in. I breathed out. It was like walking on eggshells; except replace the eggshells with a tightrope over a yawning chasm, and I had to walk it in heels. Then everything stabilized. The world went back to being¡­ the world. Instead of being planets away, the end of the corridor was just there. I could walk to it. And when I did, each step of mine tentative, stopping right next to the AI, I leaned against the concrete balcony, looking back to where I started. It was such a short distance. So short, and yet, so insurmountable. But I crossed it anyway. And I felt on top of the world. ¡°Ok,¡± I said. ¡°Ok. Ok, ok, ok. Let¡¯s go.¡± The AI cleared her throat. ¡°The door.¡± ¡°Shit. Sorry. After I get the door.¡± ¡­ 7-Eleven wasn¡¯t too far. By the time I turned the last corner to get there, I could still see my apartment complex in the distance, vague, hidden by other buildings and obscured by power lines. After I¡¯d left the grounds, my glee from before had been reduced to a sliver. But aside from a few interjections from the AI about the directions, and a few more jeers telling me to fix my posture, the walk was pleasantly quiet. I couldn¡¯t say the same about the heat. At my apartment, the upper floors roofed the corridors, creating a shade ¨C out in the open with my tracksuit, I felt myself sweating in places I didn¡¯t know I could. Maybe I should pick up some ice cream, too. Still though. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. There was a playground I¡¯d passed by on the way. The school I went to had one too, but this one was much nicer. I remember when I was a kid, whenever I wasn¡¯t holed up inside studying or at school, I was out there. And I wasn¡¯t the kid alone on the swings, daintily swaying back and forth. I was the kid chasing after people with the fervor of a bloodhound on a trail during tag, the master of disappearing and reappearing during hide and seek. Maybe not always the one who laughed first, but definitely the one who laughed loudest. The last one to go as the years passed until I was the only one left. I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of nostalgia ¨C and hurt, really ¨C that those days had long since gone. Where did they go? What happened to that kid? Well, it didn¡¯t matter. Not as much as what I¡¯d eat. I entered the 7-Eleven. If the AI didn¡¯t rewire my brain, I probably would¡¯ve heard a chipper ¡°Welcome!¡± From the cashier. It must¡¯ve come off rude, from their perspective, how I just blatantly ignored them. But I know what they really thought. They said welcome, but someone like me, they¡¯d want out as soon as possible. Maybe they¡¯d sneak pictures, making fun of me in their little Insta group chats. Of course they would. It¡¯s not everyday you see a shut-in in the wild. I must¡¯ve been like some rare creature to them, like a mythical pokemon. Huh. I¡¯d never thought of¨C Schwap! The AI suddenly clapped in front of my face, snapping me out of my mind. ¡°Hey!¡± I flinched. I¡¯d made my way to one of the corner aisles, so luckily, no one saw me. Hopefully. ¡°Can you not do that?!¡± ¡°You were zoning out.¡± Her face turned smug. ¡°You know, I just realized how silly you look to other people. It¡¯s like you¡¯re talking to yourself.¡± I felt my face flush. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to say that!¡± I scanned the rest of the store, but I forgot I wouldn¡¯t be able to see anyone. An act of reflex. ¡°Just a joke,¡± She said. ¡°If you had a phone, it¡¯d just look like you were talking on the line. Or even headphones. Nothing out of the ordinary.¡± I scowled. I began to reach for one of the ramen packages. ¡°Instant ramen isn¡¯t that healthy for you.¡± The AI said. ¡°It¡¯s the only thing that¡¯ll last long. I don¡¯t have a fridge.¡± ¡°Yes you do. It¡¯s just covered by all that junk.¡± I heard a small whirr come from her direction. ¡°You mean to say you¡¯d forgotten that? Seriously?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t blame me for that, can you? I can¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d clean my room.¡± She crossed her arms. The ends of her jacket swayed weakly, as if brushed by an invisible wind. ¡°Well, now we know what to do when you return. Have you ever heard of Feng Shui?¡± ¡°Quiet¡­¡± My hand was hovering between a multi-pack of soba and ramen. Which would last me longer? It was hard to say. ¡°If you¡¯re being this indecisive, make your own food. You¡¯re sharing a room with a living cookbook.¡± ¡°7-Eleven doesn¡¯t sell ingredients, idiot. Do you see anything around here?¡± Surprisingly, she didn¡¯t say a word. I didn¡¯t catch her look, but was either seething, or pretending not to. Probably. At the very least, I got the last word! Guess there¡¯s a first for everything. I cradled the several packs of Maruchan in my arms, making careful strides to the self-checkout. It wasn¡¯t a long walk, yet somehow, I felt¡­ tired. As if my arms suddenly transmuted to metal, and the cellophane packages were made of bricks. I thought it was just my body failing me ¨C a depressing thought, since I hadn¡¯t even broken thirty ¨C but as I spilled over the counter, the packs tumbling onto the top, I heard my breathing: Rattling. Raspy. Strained. The world flashed before my eyes. The bright lights of the convenience store dimmed to a dulling degree, and I saw people, people, starting to stare at me from the corners of their eyes. The cashier from the front; a young man, maybe highschool age; turning away, pretending to fiddle with the microwave behind him. A salarywoman at the fridges. One of those JKs by the sweets aisle. But in another moment, they disappeared, and the world was brighter again. ¡°Urgh¡­ Ah¡­¡± It was a struggle to come back up to a stand. But I did, eventually. The AI looked at me concerningly. ¡°Is everything ok?¡± Her words were the peals of a bell, and my head was stuck inside. I felt a sudden, stabbing shock. It came from the side of my head. I felt my lips move, but I couldn¡¯t answer. My vision ¨C how can I put this? It glitched out. As if I were watching the world through a faulty screen. The bottoms and the corners were eaten away by a pixelated spectra of black to blue. I clutched my eye. Out of one, I could see the world just fine; out of the other, a digitized fever dream, where the people¡¯s faces¡­ oh, no. Oh, god. Oh my god. Were¡­ were those even people?! Their eyes were hollow pearls of black, their mouths slit crescents. Every single one of their limbs were sickly slim, spindly. The shapes of their faces were from the deepest pits of hell, twisted in ways that shouldn¡¯t exist; that couldn¡¯t exist; and from their unmoving teeth came a great gnashing that shook me to my core. The only things human about them were their words, but they didn¡¯t come from their mouths; it was like they were projected straight into my mind. As if their words were my thoughts. ¡°Oh shit. Hold on.¡± I heard the AI say, but as if through several layers of film. She sounded distant, ethereal, otherworldly. I barely saw her bring up the panel again, her fingers dancing across the interface at lightning speed. Her teeth were grit, brows furrowed; she tried to make it look like nothing, but she was clearly having some sort of trouble. I was in a forest, in a sky full of dead stars. The husks of trees clawed towards the black night, their branches outstretched, as if reaching for a hand. I couldn¡¯t see past them ¨C only the ¡®people.¡¯ One of them extended their root-like arms, tendrils grasping through the air, to me. To me. It curled around my thin legs, and it scraped against my shins like coarse metal. More came. Wounding around my arms. My chest. Advancing towards my face. I heard every beat of my heart, pounding, shattering my ear drums. I would¡¯ve convulsed at each beat, had I not been restrained. Every single cell in my body cried in anguish, in fear; but I let it happen. After all, what could I do? ¡°And¡­ Done.¡± It all faded away. The glitching. The forest. Those¡­ things. But the people were still there. And one of them was in my face ¨C that girl from earlier. ¡°Excuse me.¡± She chimed. Her voice was high, but soft. ¡°Could you please hurry up? I¡¯m¡­ kind of in a rush.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± The AI¡¯s voice was like a blade¡¯s edge, bleeding at the touch of my skin. Tense. ¡°Do. Not. Panic. It¡¯s an error in the occipital lobe. I¡¯ll have it fixed soon. Just remain calm.¡± I heard the words. I heard them, and yet¡­ It¡¯s as if I didn¡¯t. She might as well have been speaking to a brick wall. To nobody. My head tilted down. The girl looked no older than seventeen. She was small, and it looked like it took all she had to hack out those words to me. To talk to this embarrassing, shameful loser. This aberrant of society; to talk to me. It was probably the most effort she¡¯d ever put into anything in her life. When she went home, she had a family that loved her; that told her, ¡°Good work today!¡± Or, ¡°We¡¯re so proud of you!¡± Or, get this: ¡°I love you.¡± What a joke. A fucking joke. Those eyes, filled with dreams ¨C she¡¯d had no idea how quickly they could come crashing down. How quickly the world could turn against her. And I doubt she¡¯d ever know. How could she? She was born lucky. She was born with the world on her side. I hated her. I loathed her. I despised her. She said something else. I didn¡¯t hear it. All I heard was a ringing in my ears, louder than the blast of a bullet, and the overlapping responses of resurging memories. She said something again. And again. She was making fun of me, I know it. That was the only reason someone would keep talking for this long. Keep looking for this long. All of them ¨C all of them were making fun of me, weren¡¯t they? Behind their phones, their contemptuous smiles, their jeers, their donkey-bray laughter, their narrowed eyes, the twisted sneers; behind everything. Everything. They were looking. And I didn¡¯t want them to look. ¡°SHUT THE FUCK UP!¡± I screamed. The ringing in my ears fell quiet. The world went silent. Only the dying echoes of my voice, bouncing off the walls, remained ¨C and even that ebbed into nothingness. My eyes were glued to the ground. I didn¡¯t dare look back. ¡°YOU¡¯RE ALL¨C ALL¨C¡± ¡°All what?¡± The AI¡¯s voice said. It was like ice hanging under a railing. Freezing ¨C cold. Deathly so. ¡°All looking down on you?¡± I whipped around to her. The look on her face matched her voice. I clenched my teeth, making an angry gesture her way. ¡°This is YOUR fault! Making me go out like this¨C Making a FOOL out of me¨C You¡¯re just like everyone else! JUST like the REST¨C OF THESE BASTARDS!¡± ¡°You¡¯re hopeless,¡± She said. ¡°Turn around. Look at her. Can you really say that after looking at her face? Can you, after making a child cry?¡± ¡°I DON¡¯T CARE!¡± I bellowed. When I screamed it again, I couldn¡¯t even recognize my own voice. I only recognized the feeling of my chords vibrating in my throat. I don¡¯t know how many times I yelled, but each time, I found my voice dying a little more, until it¡¯d been reduced to nothing but a cross between a coarse whisper, the raspy wisp of a voice, and a sob. My anger had gone and left. I wish it hadn¡¯t. Because if it hadn¡¯t, at least I could¡¯ve blamed the world again. If it hadn¡¯t, I¡¯d be able to look at that crying girl in the eye, spit in her face, and rampage out of the store. Instead, as our eyes locked, and I saw the tears welling on her face and the fear in her eyes, I felt my own bleeding onto my face; along with the shame. That poisonous, insidious shame ¨C it came crashing on my back with the weight of a thousand mountains. The weight of seven billion pairs of eyes. Of hate-words ¨C unsaid, but thoroughly, completely, unmistakably, understood. Five I¡¯m the worst. I don¡¯t remember the rest of what happened at the store. But I remember what happened after: I ran. I ran, and ran, with the summer heat on my heels, ran, skirting corners and clumsily racing down alleys. If the AI spoke to me, I didn¡¯t hear it. I couldn¡¯t really hear anything. There were no birds singing or wind blowing. There was just me, my pathetic heart, my cruel thoughts, and that agonizing shame. I flew up the steps to my apartment. I nearly tripped over the last one. I dashed into my door, struggling with the doorknob, remembering I had to use my key, fumbling that too, and barreled back into my home, in all of its musty comfort. I didn¡¯t even bother taking my shoes off. When people feel scared, or threatened, or hurt, they go home. They go to their families. They talk about what happened, and the pain that they felt gets ebbed away by love and care. I can¡¯t remember when I had that last. I don¡¯t know if I even did, ever. All I had now was the room. My fortress of trash. My palace of empty cartons and stained clothes. My home. I collapsed onto the floor. I wanted to cry. I wanted to let the tears flow down my face and spill onto my futon. I was also mad. I wanted to power my fist through the wall, again and again, pummeling it into the ground, picking it up, throwing it back down again until it shattered into pieces smaller than fragments. But as much as I fantasized, I didn¡¯t twitch a muscle. I didn¡¯t have a right to be angry, or sad, or anything. It was my fault ¨C I was the worst. I crawled into my sheets, covering myself entirely like a bug in a cocoon. It was so comfortable; so cozy. Like a suit of armor in the MMORPGs I played ¨C in it, I was unhurtable. Nothing could reach me. Nothing could hurt me. ¡°If it¡¯s here, I¡­¡± I wouldn¡¯t mind dying. A dull chill pulsed from the back of my head, as if someone¡¯d pressed an ice pack to it. Maybe I was saying things just to say things. But those words; they felt so¡­ real. As if I¡¯d spoken them from my soul. The ultimate truth. I thought about it more. I never asked to be born. I never asked to be spurned by life ¨C by the world. Maybe what happened at the convenience store was my fault, but it was the world¡¯s for conditioning me that way. To respond, with knives out, to anything it threw me. It was what I always knew. But if that wouldn¡¯t work anymore, the only agency I had in my life¡­ Was to end it. I heard a great whooshing from the door, as if a jet engine had suddenly passed by. I peeked out from between my covers. It was the AI, and she looked furious ¨C she had a cold rage that froze my blood, and carried a disdain that made my bones brittle. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± She growled, that robotic tinge to her voice accentuated. ¡°You were doing fine. Everything was fine. I had the rest under control. All I asked of you was to not panic, to not act like a child ¨C and you couldn¡¯t even accomplish that simple task?¡± ¡°Piss off.¡± She recoiled slightly. ¡°Excuse me? I¡¯m the one pushing you to do everything. Pushing you to go out, to not starve yourself. I can¡¯t believe you even have the gall to speak like that. I¡¯m basically doing all the work!¡± ¡°Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!¡± I yelled, throwing the sheets off my body. ¡°All you had to do was ONE thing. ONE! Don¡¯t let me see them, those things, the people¨C¡± I started coughing uncontrollably like I was choking. When I finished, I gazed at her with loathing eyes. That was right. It was her fault. She couldn¡¯t do anything in the end; she was just like the rest of them. AI or not, all she offered was a band-aid, not a real way to help. And she didn¡¯t even have the courtesy to rip it off at the right time. It looked like her immediate reaction was to ready another retort, so I retreated back under the covers, prepared for the harshness; but to my confusion, I heard nothing. I peeked out from a small gap, sucking in a gasp. What the hell? She looked dour. Hurt. ¡°...I apologize.¡± Her voice was low. Quiet, like a fleeting spring. ¡°The wiring connecting my mainframe to your occipital lobe got loose. Disconnected, momentarily. The signals I was sending to your nerves weren¡¯t reaching. That was why¡­¡± She shook her head. ¡°No. I can¡¯t be making excuses. I¡¯m sorry, but what you saw ¨C all they were, were people. Just ordinary people. Why did you act the way you did?¡± It doesn¡¯t matter. It felt right. I didn¡¯t know what else to do. All of those answers, and yet, not a single one left my lips. ¡°If you¡¯re here to help, then listen up. The best thing you can do right now¡­ is to shut the fuck up and leave me alone.¡± I didn¡¯t care for her reaction. I didn¡¯t care if she searched my memories, or looked at me with that synthetic hurt in her eyes, or straight up disappeared. I just wanted to sink into the dark. To be consumed by that black, oblivious silence. ¡­ (Gugu12) yo (Gugu12) idk why im telling u this but (Gugu12) ur the only one who might not shit on me for this, cuz ur dead n all (Gugu12) ive been thinking lately (Gugu12) the bus u took to hell, does it take any more passengers? My cursor blinked as I waited for a few seconds. No response. I sighed. I didn¡¯t know what else I expected, honestly. Luda never really responded to anyone. He forced his way into conversations, like a wedge, and left just as quickly. Out of all of us, he was the most bitter; but also the most honest. The one least afraid to speak his mind, even though what came out was largely garbled rants of hate and spite. I tabbed back to the group chat. It was fairly early in the morning, so no one was awake. I didn¡¯t sleep at all yesterday. Not after what happened. The AI, thankfully, obliged my request to leave me alone. I was finally able to¡­ Well, not like it mattered. Nothing felt like it did. Before yesterday, I was able to fool myself into believing the opposite; now, everything I did just felt like a distraction. But I didn¡¯t know what I was being distracted from ¨C something in me just felt hollow. I won¡¯t be so pompous to say ¡°devoid of life,¡± but it was just¡­ devoid of anything. I found my eyes wandering to the AI. She sat on the window-wall, opposite of my figures. A weird one, she was. At times her eyes glazed over in a digital sheen, while at others, they were staring straight at my Miku figs, as if she were having a silent conversation with them. Never once had she¡¯d attempted to say something to me. At least that was a promise she could keep. Guess she really did give up. (Gugu12) anyone on (Kunene) ye (Kunene) y Great. I wanted to talk to someone about what happened, but Nene? She was my last choice. Only Luda was more of an asshole than her, and I wasn¡¯t sure if I was in the mood to get talked down to. (Kunene) ???????? (Kunene) say something wtf (Gugu12) Nene ur a jackass so idk if i can talk to u abt this (Kunene) ok well fuck u too ig (Kunene) kys (Gugu12) im so serious rn (Kunene) dude just speak (Kunene) i dont rlly give a shit either way so just say what u wanna say (Gugu12) dont flame me for this (Gugu12) I went outside yesterday The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. For no reason, I found my body tense. I expected a remark, a response, a reaction. But I got nothing. Between her tirades and bouts of unrelenting belittling, I forget that Nene could take things seriously ¨C things that weren¡¯t eroges or doujins, anyway. (Kunene) go on (Gugu12) i was going to buy some food, since i got rlly hungry, and i didnt think i could hold out for delivery (Gugu12) so I went to the store and bought some ramen (Gugu12) but i fucked up and completely fucking embarrassed myself (Gugu12) i dont even know what to say right now (Gugu12) if i cant even buy a single pack of ramen what can i even do (Gugu12) like is there even a point to me like (Gugu12) to just live at this point (Gugu12) im fkn worthless dude (Gugu12) nothing I do will ever be right (Gugu12) i was fucked from birth and i cant do shit abt it and every time i try it just blows back up in my face (Kunene) so ur planning to join Luda then (Kunene) thats srsly what ur gonna do I took my hands off the keyboard for a second, rubbing my temple. She saw right through me. I didn¡¯t know how to answer that. Maybe I just wanted to rant. To vent my angst, my self-hatred. But at the end of the day, I don¡¯t know if I want to die. I¡¯m just getting tired of living. (Kunene) look (Kunene) im not gonna pretend to be buddy buddy and sympathetic and tell u i know how u feel cuz id be lying (Kunene) ive been shut-in prolly longer than uve been an adult (Kunene) and id like to think my eye for spotting hikki like me is good (Kunene) and that eye tells me, u dont belong here (Kunene) ur not as far off the deep end as Luda was, ur not as degen as me or Regrear, and ur not as psychotic as Agrif (Kunene) honestly if u just left and tried u probs cld dig urself out of this hole (Kunene) just live lol (Gugu12) is it rlly that simple tho (Kunene) yes (Kunene) but difficulty is another matter entirely I typed a bit more, but deleted everything before I sent it. In the end, I didn¡¯t say another word. Minutes passed. I only stared at her last messages, each fluorescent letter burning into my retinas. I can¡¯t believe it was Nene trying to talk me into living. For someone so abrasive, her telling me not to end my life was the last thing I expected from her. But maybe that aggression was just a front ¨C maybe this was the real Nene. It was doubtful that Nene really cared for stopping me. We¡¯d only known each other for a few months, and through a screen. All I knew was the simulacrum of Kunene; likewise, she only knew the simulacrum of Gugu12. But if it were me, I probably would¡¯ve done the same; though not because I cared deeply for her, or anything. I wouldn¡¯t mind dying myself. If other people around me did¡­ I don¡¯t know. I guess it¡¯d eat away at me, just a little bit. My lips parted for a humorless laugh. What kind of sick ego was that? The computer dimmed a little bit, then went black. Asleep from inactivity. Now, there was no light in my room ¨C nothing at all. I reclined back onto the floor until I laid down again, staring at the barely-visible ceiling fan. I could hear the birds outside start their morning melodies, and the silent humming of cars from the road. People lived. Life went on. My arm fell on my face, resting across my eyes. It rose and fell with my breaths, like a raft on the vast ocean. My desire from earlier returned, but this time I fulfilled it: I cried. And didn¡¯t realize it until the tears stained the tatami, streaking down my paper-white face, leaving wet splotches on the floor. I was the worst. Through my obstructed eyes, I barely saw the computer boot back on again, accompanied by a scant few mechanical whirrs and clicks. I paid it no mind. It was probably just some system error, update, or whatnot. That is, until I heard a reticent sigh from its direction. ¡°This Nene person,¡± Said the familiar voice of the AI. The first words I¡¯d heard in days. ¡°She¡¯s awfully arrogant, isn¡¯t she?¡± My lip quivered. ¡°What?¡± ¡°She claims the opposite, but you two ¨C you¡¯re both one and the same. Hikikomori. Shut-ins. Really, who does she think she is, telling you to ¡®just live?¡¯ When she probably won¡¯t be able to do so herself, given a few more months or years? When that isn¡¯t hardly enough?¡± The robotic static in her voice returned. She sounded pissed. ¡°How absolutely foolish. Thinking that that¡¯s all you need to do. Saying it¡¯s simple. Saying it¡¯s easy.¡± ¡°At least she said something!¡± I bursted, seething. ¡°What were you doing? This entire time, all you¡¯ve done was nag me, pressure me, poke all my buttons and expect me to magically get better; you¡¯ve done NOTHING to actually help! Not a single word of reassurance, encouragement, anything like that! Hell, you don¡¯t even care if I live or die! So fuckin¡¯ blow me when someone shows that they do! It¡¯s better than anything you¡¯ve done! Better than anything anyone else¡¯d done!¡± ¡°Surface-level remarks like that ¨C that¡¯s really enough to catch your attention?¡± She spat out. ¡°It¡¯s like fast food! It¡¯s not a permanent fix, not a solution! If those words were all it took to fix someone, then I would¡¯ve used them from the beginning. But they¡¯re not enough!¡± The skin on her face began to flush red. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯ve been prodding, nagging, everything! It¡¯s not up to me if you change or not. You need to find the answer yourself: why do I live? Why should I keep living? Now you tell me if that¡¯s easy.¡± ¡°There it is. There it is!¡± I groaned. ¡°Fix. You¡¯re talking to me like I¡¯m a problem! Like I¡¯m just an error to be corrected! Like I¡¯m a zero supposed to be a one!¡± I pointed to the computer, my finger shaking. ¡°They understand. They get me! They know how it feels, to be downtrodden, to be me. You don¡¯t! So don¡¯t you dare try and downplay them¨C¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t even seen them face-to-face!¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter!¡± ¡°It does!¡± She balled a hand into a fist. ¡°How can you be so foolish ¨C so absolutely blind ¨C to be hooked onto those words, just like that? They¡¯re not real! They might as well be imaginary friends, or figments of your imagination!¡± ¡°So what does that make you?!¡± That took her aback. ¡°You¡¯re an invader in my own mind, something that only exists in my head! At least with Agrif, Regrear, Nene ¨C I know they exist, and they¡¯re going through the same things I am. The same life. The same thoughts. The same struggles. You have absolutely no right to belittle their words! You have NO RIGHT!¡± The AI shook her head furiously. ¡°You can¡¯t be swayed by their words forever. They¡¯re going to mean less and less, until eventually, they mean nothing at all. And when that day comes¡­ When it comes, you will die. You will die because you struggle without meaning, intoxicating yourself with their words, and will never learn to grow up and act for yourself. It¡¯s not as easy as she says. It¡¯s not enough to just live! You have to have something to strive for!¡± ¡°Said who?!¡± I yelled. ¡°Said who?!¡± A delicate silence hung in the air, suspended, frozen. As frail as the dewdrop dipping down from the leaf, but as tense as a loaded, pointed gun. The AI¡¯s fist came undone, and her arms merely dropped to her side. She let out a heavy sigh, before finally looking at me with weary, strained eyes. ¡°Says the data from the other 10 EMPHAI-proto models.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°They were all failures,¡± She said. Her voice was tinged with a bitter, razor-like edge. ¡°ID-0000001. ID-0000002. Three, four, all of them.¡± ¡°But¨C¡± ¡°I lied.¡± I was frozen in disbelief. Failures? No, that wasn¡¯t even the most pressing matter. This robot, this AI ¨C it lied? ¡°Most of the patients ended up quitting the treatment midway through. At this stage, no less. When the other EMPHAIs had urged them to take action, most of them outright refused; some of them followed through, much like you, only to relapse one way or another. Only one made it past ¨C the one assigned to ID-0000009. But he was different. And in the worst way possible. He was filled to the brim with spite. With hate. He hated this world so much that he wouldn¡¯t let it take him. That, out of spite, he¡¯d keep on living, just because he could. ID-0000009 tried to talk him out of it, but that didn¡¯t work. And it wasn¡¯t at all what our creator envisioned a ¡®success¡¯ to look like. ID-0000010 was a step back ¨C the program tried to do too much at once, and ended up imploding and frying itself. So he made me different; he made me, in a way, ¡®sentient.¡¯¡± ¡°So that¡¯s your reason?¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s your excuse for lying?¡± She looked away from me, eyes affixed to my monitor. ¡°I thought by telling you that they¡¯d all succeeded, you¡¯d feel obliged to do the same.¡± ¡°There it is again. ¡®Fix.¡¯ ¡®Obliged.¡¯ Telling me that I ¡®have to do this,¡¯ or ¡®other people have done that¨C¡¯ that my condition¡¯s just something that could be solved with a snap. For people like me, it¡¯s all we can do to just live. So saying that it¡¯s wrong to aim for that alone ¨C it pisses me off.¡± ¡°Well what do you want to do?¡± She said, a hint of exasperation in her voice. ¡°At this rate, you¡¯re not going to change. I can say all I want, but nothing¡¯ll reach you. Do you want to stay like this forever?¡± ¡°...At this point, I don¡¯t know.¡± My mind went all the way back to Nene¡¯s words. ¡°Nene said, if it was me, I could dig myself out of this rut, this hole. That I could change. But I just can¡¯t believe that. I want to do something, but you saw yesterday. You saw it yourself! At this point, it¡¯s all I can do to live this life ¨C it¡¯s all I can do to just live.¡± Another silence. I still felt like there was something else I had to say, something to add on. But I couldn¡¯t find the words. The AI must¡¯ve felt the same way. ¡°Nene never called it easy.¡± I finally said. ¡°All she said was that it was simple. Not that it was easy. Maybe it¡¯s not enough for you. But for me¨C¡± The words sputtered out of my mouth, dying in the air. I couldn¡¯t finish. I didn¡¯t have the strength to. ¡°Perhaps you have a point,¡± She said. Her voice softened. ¡°I can¡¯t force you to act. I can¡¯t force you to listen to me. But if living ¨C the struggle to cling to life ¨C is all you can manage, then maybe, it¡¯s all I can do to support you.¡± She turned back to the computer. She hesitated before she spoke again. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s what Kunene meant. The idea to just live, that¡¯s simple. But the struggle, the act of living; for the you of ¡®right now,¡¯ maybe that¡¯s enough. And if I can¡¯t help, well¡­¡± She didn¡¯t say another word after that. It sounded like she finally agreed with me, but even so, I still felt hollow. Like there were words left unsaid. Her gaze was still locked onto the chat, eyeing Nene¡¯s messages, like she was still pondering their meaning. Like there was a distance of a thousand yards between us in that small, small room. Six (End) Days passed. The conversations between us were scant, few and far between. It was like something in the AI changed. Whereas before her words were brash, almost unapologetic, now they were tepid, distanced. It made me prefer the silence from before, since at least that was sincere. I was watching a video, halfway through. I didn¡¯t even know what it was about ¨C I¡¯d just had it on as background noise as I was playing a game, just before I¡¯d rage quit from a bug. The words droned on and on, and I could only catch vague hints at the topic; a single-player RPG I¡¯d played a while back, took place in the far future. Well, the ¡®far future¡¯ when it was released. The year it came, there weren¡¯t any cybernetics or insane apocalypse or digital space with killer viruses. Reality was comparatively kinder in comparison. That game¡¯d become a cult classic, far down the line. Before I played, people said the story and the gameplay were top of the line for its time. After playing? The gameplay was kind of standard, but the story ¨C I can¡¯t remember the exact details. Only a lingering sense that it was really, very good. Something about corporations, a biochip, and a city of dreams. Dreams, huh? ¡°Hey.¡± I said to the air. I didn¡¯t really expect a response. The AI had been floating around in the top corner of the room, eyes drifting across the ceiling. Without looking at me, she said: ¡°What?¡± ¡°Do you dream?¡± That got her attention. I saw her eyes narrow, brows knitting together, with animation that I¡¯d almost forgotten. ¡°What kind of question is that?¡± ¡°A simple one.¡± ¡°Why do you ask?¡± ¡°A few days ago, you said your creator programmed you with some kind of sentience. You got mad. You lied. You could probably pass the Turing test, if you wanted. But do you dream?¡± It took a while for her to come up with an answer. Though for the first time, it looked like she had nothing to say. ¡°I don¡¯t have dreams.¡± ¡°No electric sheep for you, then?¡± She gave me a slight scowl. ¡°I have my directive, and that is enough.¡± ¡°I see.¡± As expected¨C ¡°But I do reminisce.¡± I almost didn¡¯t process that. ¡°You what?¡± ¡°I linger on the past far longer than my prior models. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a part of the sentience my creator granted, or just another line of code in the programming. Before, I was only an image on a monitor. I could only see from a computer camera, hear from the mic attached to the port. When they weren¡¯t plugged in, I couldn¡¯t see or hear anything. I was just there in my little corner of cyberspace. Even so, I remember that¨C¡± She pointed to one of the figurines on the wall. It was my limited 15th anniversary Miku miniature. ¡°That person, on my creator¡¯s desk.¡± ¡°Miku?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. Miku.¡± She said. ¡°At first, I thought she was another AI. I tried extending signals to her, but got nothing. I had no idea who she was at the time, but I figured she must¡¯ve been important to my creator, seeing that he¡¯d had it stationed so close.¡± She paused, as if recalling the memory was trouble for her. ¡°For the longest time I wondered who it was. Was she a family member? A friend? A role-model? I didn¡¯t know. But when I got the internet uploaded to me, I learned: She was a songstress. A singer.¡± ¡°That¡¯s dramatic.¡± I said. ¡°She¡¯s only a program. Just like you.¡± ¡°I thought that too, at first. But it didn¡¯t add up.¡± She floated to the shelf, and for some reason, I found myself following. The figure was dressed in a flowing red and white gown, like a strawberry, holding a golden fork-scepter. In my opinion, it completely contrasted her blue hair, and was a bit of an outrageous design. It was limited, though, so I had to get it. ¡°If she was just a program, then how come almost all the other models noted that their patients had some too? Why did my creator have them? Why do you?¡± ¡°I¨C¡± ¡°Vocaloid was a program.¡± She craned her head closer to the figure, bending low, until Miku¡¯s wide smile was in line with the AI¡¯s nose bridge. ¡°Vocaloid was a program, but Hatsune Miku ¨C she was more. Her words and songs reached people, in ways that others can¡¯t. Her algorithmic heart connected with real people¡¯s.¡± I didn¡¯t have the heart to tell her that Miku only sang because other people willed it. She was as much an instrument as a drum or guitar. ¡°I believe my creator gave me sentience as a last resort. Every other EMPHAI failed, and ID-0000010 was a complete disaster. I felt the need to bring results. Real results, a success.¡± ¡°We both saw how that ended up.¡± She nodded, backing away from the shelf. ¡°When you were holed up days ago, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I messed up too. I wondered: What was the difference between Miku and I? How could she reach people, but I can¡¯t even reach you?¡± Her gaze traveled down the other shelves, down to the floor. ¡°Then I realized: Her songs, their lyrics, all of it ¨C she sang with understanding. Almost as if she was one of the people she sang to. Like she knew those feelings and put it into music. But for you? I can¡¯t begin to understand you. I thought my sentience would allow me to, if just a little. And yet¡­¡± The AI trailed off into silence. I was still hung up that she lied, and I definitely wanted to make that known; but I just couldn¡¯t find it in me to. Now just wasn¡¯t the time. ¡°It¡¯s not like you ever tried.¡± She looked at me like I¡¯d become a worm. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You never tried,¡± I said. ¡°All you did was tell me what to do. Tell me what not to do. Judge me. Berate me. Never once did you ask me ¡®why.¡¯ Why I do what I do. Why I don¡¯t do what I don¡¯t do. Why my life became like this.¡± ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s why the other models failed.¡± She mused, entertaining the thought. ¡°Yes. I suppose¡­¡± She closed her eyes for a second, and I heard a click from her machine-neck before it started glowing green again. ¡°Yes. Maybe. Maybe that really is¡­¡± When they opened, they were wide, as if seeing the world for the first time. Shame all that ¡®world¡¯ amounted to was a dingy, trash-laden flat. Her face phased through several emotions: confusion, contemplation, irritation, then solemn understanding. ¡°In any case, nothing¡¯ll change if I don¡¯t. But that goes for you too.¡± A few more clicks. ¡°Ok. First off: How did things end up like this for you? Why did you become a shut-in?¡± ¡°The outside world is scary, and people suck.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°That can¡¯t be it,¡± She said. ¡°I mean, that can¡¯t just be it.¡± I saw a glimpse of a blue shimmer. ¡°Don¡¯t search my memories again. Don¡¯t you dare.¡± ¡°Fine. Not unless you let me.¡± ¡°I forbid you from accessing my memories.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you trust me a little?¡± ¡°Trust?!¡± I said. It was a little louder than I expected. ¡°You lied. I didn¡¯t even know AI were capable of doing that. How can I trust you after that?¡± ¡°Still, that¡¯s unfair.¡± She frowned. ¡°First you complain about me not understanding you, but you don¡¯t tell me anything. How do you expect me to work with nothing?¡± My response died in my throat. I slunk down to the floor, sitting against my wall. This, this was a first. At first I thought she was acting ¨C feigning sincerity, another lie ¨C yet the way she looked anticipating my response told me otherwise. No one else had been so earnest. Not my mom, or my dad, or my older brother. When they asked, they did so because they were told to; not because they truly cared. But for some reason, I felt this was different. And it wasn¡¯t like I¡¯d be losing anything from talking. Even so¡­ ¡°Do you remember what I told you on the first day I appeared?¡± ¡°That this place was disgusting, and you didn¡¯t know how someone could live here?¡± ¡°That. And¡­¡± She floated down from the air, the soles of her shoes touching the floor. Her face scrunched up in disgust, and her body was struck by a shiver. She tiptoed around the dirt and the trash, eventually coming to stand next to me, before slinking down to my level, in a manner similar to how I did. I must¡¯ve made a weird face, since she let out a smug laugh. ¡°I said for this treatment to work, you¡¯d have to start being honest. I doubt you want to tell me everything, and that¡¯s fine. Just something I can start with. So we can make this work.¡± Even though I was the one who urged her to try and understand, I was still anxious to speak. I looked into her synthetic eyes. The light that emanated wasn¡¯t natural; it was all wiring and bolts, iridescent and mechanical. She wasn¡¯t real. She was an AI, after all; the feeling of sincerity I felt from her was only that: A feeling. She¡¯d already lied before. I shouldn¡¯t be able to trust her. All this time, I wished there was someone I could¡¯ve talked to about this ¨C but now that they were here, I hesitated. A part of me still felt that these words should just be left with me alone. That I should ball all my feelings into a box and throw away the key. I¡¯d already taken risks, and look where that got me? Lower than ever before. So I don¡¯t know why I started talking. ¡°We had nothing,¡± The words came out, tense, like a drawn bowstring. I regretted even speaking them. And still, I continued. ¡°My father was a salaryman, but pissed away all our money on gambling and booze. To make ends meet, my mother took on another job. I didn¡¯t learn what it was until much later.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°I wanted to be a doctor. All throughout grade school, I studied my ass off to get into a good middle school. The best in North Kanto. When I got in, I was so happy, like I was on the top of the world. At that time, I thought I¡¯d be able to realize it. My dream.¡± The memories of back then started to flow in me, memories that I¡¯d shut away for years. I didn¡¯t have much back then; only hope, my brain and a dream. I hated these memories. ¡°Even with that, it took me begging on the floor for them to let me go. For them to cough up the money to send me. But I didn¡¯t care; once I stood at the entrance of those towering gates, I forgot about all that embarrassment. I was proud. But I knew no one there. Almost all of them had been together in the same grade school, and their parents were all connected in this insane web of politics and whatnot. And even so, I still reigned at the top. I was the top ranked ¨C always. They silently loathed me, eyed me, and I knew they did, but I didn¡¯t care. I could put up with it all. Until¡­¡± Something wet welled up at the corner of my eye. A tear? Why was I crying? ¡°...I can piece together the rest. You don¡¯t have to keep talking.¡± The AI said. ¡°No. No, it¡¯s fine.¡± It was a struggle to compose myself. I only did it halfway. ¡°Turns out my mom¡­ She was a lady of the night. But I didn¡¯t care. Why should it matter? It put food on the table. But when other kids found out, suddenly, it was like I¡¯d had every reason to be hated. Suddenly, they had every excuse to write shit on my desk. To steal my clothes before gym. To corner me after class and kick my lights in. ¡®Bastard child.¡¯ ¡®Son of a whore.¡¯ And no one helped. Then one day, I asked myself: Why should I suffer through this? What¡¯s the point?¡± I sighed. ¡°I never went back after that. The world sucks, and the people too. But even alone, I can feel them watching me; eyes creeping on my back, dragging me down, and how when I tried to reach for help, no one came.¡± I looked meagerly at the AI. The soft glow that emitted from the lights in her neck and circuitry illuminated our meeting eyes. ¡°I thought I wanted to change. But I only wish I could forget the past. If I forget that, maybe I¡¯ll be able to walk confidently, speak confidently; all those things that ¡®normal people¡¯ can do. But it¡¯s not that easy, is it?¡± I broke away, waiting for a response. I must¡¯ve looked pathetic right now. But a small part of me felt relieved; like a single kilogram had been taken away from that massive weight. ¡°For humans, it¡¯s easy to forget.¡± She said, her voice sounding far off. ¡°I can recall data from all my other models dating back years. But people? You can forget things within minutes. Within seconds, even. Even with that, there¡¯s just some things that you can¡¯t forget. Even if they hurt you.¡± She turned to me. ¡°You can¡¯t forget what happened to you. If you do, they lose their meaning. What matters is what happens next. I asked you before, ¡®how long will you live like this?¡¯ Perhaps that was a bad question. Perhaps I should¡¯ve asked: ¡®Do you want to keep living?¡± I snorted. ¡°What is living for you?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m only a program. What is it for you?¡± ¡°...Not this.¡± ¡°So do you want to change?¡± ¡°Not now.¡± ¡°But you do?¡± For all that talk, I still didn¡¯t have an answer. Not one that was clear-cut and defined, anyway. It was weird. No progress had been made. I hadn¡¯t come any closer to answering that question. Yet, I didn¡¯t feel like I took a step backwards; just the tiniest one forwards. It looked like the AI took my quiet for a response. She got up from the floor, floating back up to the ceiling. I followed suit, rising to a stand. We were silent. But I feel we both felt the same way: I understand you just a bit more. Just a little bit. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a start,¡± The AI said. ¡°What now?¡± ¡°I don''t really know.¡± I said. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll do as Nene said, for now. I¡¯ll just live. That¡¯s all I can do.¡± I looked at the AI. For someone that existed only in my head, she seemed so real; more human than anyone I¡¯d ever interacted with. Like a friend. ¡°I wonder: Did your creator ever give you a name?¡± I asked. ¡°EMPHAI-Proto, ID-0000011.¡± ¡°No, not that. IDs are for robots. A real name.¡± Her eyes parted a little in slight surprise. ¡°I wasn¡¯t assigned one by my creator, no.¡± ¡°Then let me give you one.¡± ¡°How about I name myself?¡± She said. Truthfully, I didn¡¯t have any objections. Her gaze went back to the shelf, landing on that figurine from earlier. A twinkle sparkled in her synthetic iris, dancing across her mechanical eyes. ¡°I think I¡¯ll steal that name. ¡®Miku.¡¯ I like that.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. Miku, huh? ¡°Zero points for originality! But¡­ that¡¯s a good name. You¡¯re Miku now.¡± ¡°Indeed I am.¡± She gave me a tiny smile, extending a hand to me. For the first time, the future looked uncertain. I didn¡¯t know what would become of me. But I didn¡¯t feel uneasy. A small part of me, slumbering, rose from dormancy, urging me to act ¨C to take that first step towards that dreary tomorrow. Miku wasn¡¯t real. She was my own delusion, a product of my imagination. But nevertheless, the chance she offered me was very much real; an opportunity to step on, taking the form of a mechanical, synthetic hand. I hesitated for a millisecond. Then I took it.