Chapter 3 – When That Summer Ended

1 – August 13th (Friday) – Starting point

Just outside the window, the sun was slowly sinking into the horizon, shining atop a work desk. The rays of light were thin and sharp, like a small set of knives. As the clock indicated 6:45 PM, Asai Kei, Haruki Misora, and Kurakawa Mari all stood in the Tomoki family’s outbuilding.

Haruki and Mari stood in the corner next to each other, both of their heads down. Looking back and forth, Kei finally chose one. “Mari. Please tell me what happened yesterday.”

Mari’s only reaction was a slight movement of her head. Otherwise, she said nothing. Haruki, standing beside her, practically mimicked her movements. They almost looked like sisters despite their complete lack of similarities.

“I need to know so we can get you to your mother.”

Hearing that, Mari perked up a bit, her head raising slightly. “About… yesterday?”

“Mhm. What were you doing yesterday? What was your mom doing? I need you to tell me as much as you can.”

It took Mari some time to form her answer. It was like the time it took for a completely exhausted person to gather the energy to get moving again. It wasn’t right that a second-year elementary schooler should experience that kind of exhaustion. She deserved the luxury of going straight to bed, possibly even forgetting what led to that exhaustion.

But Kei didn’t have the time to let Mari slowly recover from her fatigue. All he knew for certain was that things were going to be changing rapidly for her in the near future.

Finally, she answered, “Yesterday, I spent all day at home. Mom was gone.”

“Did she have something to do?”

Mari nodded. “Yes. She left that morning. I waited for her by myself, but she wasn’t back even by nighttime.”

“What about this morning?”

“She was home. We went to the hospital together.”

“So she came home while you were asleep?”

“Mhm.”

“What time did you go to bed?” Mari shook her head. He figured that meant she didn’t know. “Did you take the bus to go to the hospital?”

She shook her head again. “We went in a car. Tsushima-san’s.”

“Who’s Tsushima-san?”

Mari didn’t answer. Instead, what came next was from Haruki. “He claimed to be something like her guardian.”

As soon as Kei stopped asking questions, Mari’s gaze fell back down. She reached her small hand out almost robotically until it gently touched the back of Haruki’s hand.

Kei tried to find the right thing to say to her. He could promise her that she’d be reunited with her mother, and that would probably bring her some form of peace. But he kept his mouth shut. He was waiting expectantly for Haruki to say something to encourage her.

Haruki Misora should be the one to reach out and save Mari, he thought. At the very least, don’t just hand it off to me. He didn’t care what she said, he just wanted her to say something. And if she couldn’t manage words, then she could just take Mari’s hand in hers.

But nothing happened.

Eventually, the door opened, and Tomoki entered without even knocking. Kei had tasked him with calling Mari’s house phone.

“How’d it go?” Kei asked.

Tomoki’s voice was muted. “Nothing. Nobody answered.”

Unfortunately, that was expected. Kei was sure that Mari’s mother had skipped town long ago.

Tomoki turned towards Haruki. “You should head back home now. You can leave Mari-chan to us.”

Haruki didn’t answer. Instead, for whatever reason, she turned to look at Kei.

Shaking his hand, Kei refuted, “No, you need to stick around here. Whatever happens, you should be here for it.” Haruki gave a slight nod.

“And what exactly is going to happen?” Tomoki scoffed.

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon. Something big is coming, and it’s coming soon.”

“What’s supposed to be coming?”

“Got me.” Kei wasn’t entirely certain, and though he had a few notions, he didn’t want to run his mouth prematurely. It was better to wait and let things take their course.

Tomoki scratched his head, heading for the door. “I’ll go look for some chow. Nobody here’s had dinner yet.” He left without waiting for a reply. The door thunked closed.

As soon as the coast was clear, Haruki spoke up. “What is your current understanding of the situation, Asai Kei?”

“I dunno. I probably know just as much as the rest of you.”

“I need you to tell me what to do. What is the best course of action?”

“Just stay here for a while. After a bit, you’ll be free to do what you want.” In his heart, Kei repeated, The only one I’m here for is Haruki Misora.

What would her answers be to the questions that lay ahead? Would she simply continue to follow her rules, or seek something outside of the norm?

Wait, that’s it. Keeping his thoughts carefully concealed, Kei stared at Haruki. “Say, Haruki. You’re always talking about that set of rules you have.”

“What of it?”

“Tell me about them. I want to know your rules.”

“Is that necessary?”

“No. But there’s nothing else to do for now.”

Haruki Misora nodded. “There are three major governing rules. All of my decisions stem from those three principles.”

“Sure, what’s the first?”

“I refuse to take part in any activity that would have a devastating impact on my or anyone else’s surroundings.”

“So basically, you don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, what’s number two?”

“I will comply with any request as long as it does not break the first rule.”

“As in, you’re fine with following others’ instructions.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so one left. What’s the third?”

“If I see anyone crying, then I reset.”

Kei was smirking before he could stop it. What was up with her? Her rules were so needlessly thorough, but in the end, she was ridiculously simple, logical, and kind. The thought raised a particular question. “Are you familiar with the Three Laws of Robotics, Haruki?”

“No.”

“They were coined by Isaac Asimov, a science fiction author. They’re still commonly used as basic principles for writing androids in fiction.”

“What about them?”

“They’re quite similar to your three rules.”

Kei explained the Three Laws of Robotics quickly and efficiently.

The First Law: A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. 

The Second Law: A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 

The Third Law: A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

“The lower numbered Laws come with higher priority, and the First and Second Laws match yours almost to a T.”

Haruki nodded, looking entirely uninterested.

Kei continued, “But your third rule is different. That’s what’s so spectacular about all of this.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m implying that you’re human.”

Androids that followed the Three Laws would protect others, follow instructions, and protect themselves. They had no agency, and their top priority was just to not be an inconvenience.

But Haruki Misora was different. Her last rule gave her agency. She would try, through all her power, to erase the tears of others before her.

How beautiful, Kei marveled. Her thoughts are so beautiful, but just as fragile.

“I do not understand what you mean.”

“Yeah. It’s okay, you don’t have to.” It wouldn’t mean anything if he just tried to tell her the significance. Haruki Misora would have to search for and find the beauty behind her third rule on her own.

Kei put on an honest-to-goodness smile. “By the way, the Three Laws of Robotics also includes a Zeroth law. It wasn’t in the ruleset initially, but was added in post due to necessity. Do you know it?”

“No, I do not.”

“Give it some thought. If you had a zeroth rule, what would it be?” The Zeroth Law. The lowest number, but the highest priority.

Haruki gave a tiny nod.

Just afterwards, a knock resounded on the door. Kei didn’t recognize it, as it was nothing like Nakano Tomoki’s typical pattern of knocking.

A man with particularly long limbs stood in the doorway. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, with unkempt hair and unshaven stubble, wearing a disheveled black suit. The sun stretched the shadows behind him longer and longer as he spoke his first words.

“I’m here representing the Administration Bureau. I’ve come to take Kurakawa Mari.”

He was entirely different from every Bureau member that Kei had met up to that point. Everyone else seemed to be cut from the same cloth, with perfectly ironed and fastidiously worn suits. Kei looked back into his room, trying to glean Haruki Misora’s expression. Her face seemed by and large unmoved. The only difference was the slight movement of her lips.

“Tsushima-san.”

Tsushima. The man who claimed to be Mari’s guardian, as well as the one who drove Mari and her mother to the hospital.

Tsushima turned to Mari and smiled. “Come now, it’s time to head back.” His voice was unexpectedly calm and soft, but resignation bled through his gentle words.

Mari hid behind Haruki.

“Where are you taking her?” Kei asked.

Tsushima’s smile disappeared as he turned towards Kei with an aloof expression. “Where she needs to go.”

“Will her mother be there?”

Tsushima shook his head. “Her mother will not be returning. She left town and handed Mari over to the Bureau’s custody.”

“Did she leave so she could forget all about Mari?”

“Yes.”

The situation was just as Kei had feared.

When anybody left Sakurada, they would lose all memory of abilities and their effects. That would include Mari, the girl created by an ability. No doubt Mari’s mother wanted to drop the burden of being the mother of a child she created through an ability. Instead, she would return to being the prior mother of a stillbirth. More importantly, she would be just another woman.

Haruki opened her mouth. “Please explain what happened.”

Tsushima shook his head. “That ship has already sailed.” He added in a low whisper, “And it’s nothing worth discussing in front of Mari.”

Ah, he’s actually a nice guy, Kei thought. He’s good at heart. Out loud, he said, “Please tell us. Mari already understands what’s going on.”

Adults wanted to protect children from certain emotions and feelings, but that didn’t keep them safe from everything. Children were incredibly good at pretending they didn’t feel certain emotions that they were actually intimately familiar with.

Tsushima turned his full attention to Kei. His eyes gave off a harsh glare, but Kei didn’t feel any ill will in his gaze. Instead, Tsushima seemed as though he were watching something sad and lonely. In a voice only Kei could hear, he whispered, “Even if she already knows, it’s gonna be completely different when someone puts it into words for her.”

He was probably right. “But this whole thing has to do with Mari. It’s not right that she should be left out of the conversation.”

“That’s true, it’s not right. But sometimes you have to make the wrong choice.”

Kei sighed. Clearly there was no arguing with him. “Fine, then we’ll talk outside. Haruki, at least, deserves an explanation.”

“She doesn’t deserve anything.”

“Yes, she does. This will affect Mari and Haruki’s relationship. They’re friends. Do you plan on taking away all of Mari’s friends, too?” Even Kei was repulsed by his own words. It was a horrid thing to say to another person. But he got the feeling that they would work on someone like Tsushima, and being right would be worth it.

Tsushima glanced around the room, his gaze resting on the window, before finally nodding. “Fine,” he muttered in resignation.

“Let’s go,” Kei pointedly said to Haruki.

“Where will we be going?”

“Just outside the door. We’re leaving the room.”

Haruki stood up, taking Mari’s hand.

Kei shook his head. “She’s not coming, Haruki.”

Haruki gazed at Kei, dissatisfied. At least, that’s what he thought, but he may have been imagining things. Her facial expression had not changed, so perhaps he simply saw his own dissatisfaction reflected in her eyes.

Eventually, Haruki let go of Mari’s hand.

The sun had already set, but it wasn’t yet completely dark outside. Cicada chirps still accented the dark blue sky as they wheedled away in the humid air.

When the outbuilding’s door was closed, Tsushima spoke first. “What did you want to discuss?”

“I want to know everything that happened today in complete detail,” Kei answered.

“I can’t tell you everything.”

“I already know that Mari was created by an ability.” The late Kurakawa Mari was stillborn. Her mother, in her grief, gained the ability to create Mari.

Tsushima shook his head. “She is. But eventually, her mother became incapable of seeing Mari as her real child.”

“When exactly?”

“I don’t know the details. Mari’s father jumped ship almost immediately. He took off when the girl was three. Her mother’s problems probably started around then.” His gaze dropped, as did his voice. “It’s not hard to understand when you take it piece by piece. Could you blame her for gaining the ability to bring back her dead child?”

Kei shook his head. “No.”

Tsushima nodded, continuing, “And can you blame her for not being able to love someone that was created by her ability as though it were her own child?”

Kei hesitated at first. His gut response was that she should have continued loving Mari, no matter what. But eventually, he just shook his head. “No.” Kei had real parents that he had chosen to stop loving. All it took was a good cry for him to pull the pin. He was in no place to start pushing moral imperatives onto Mari’s parents.

Tsushima exhaled, his voice weary. “That’s about it. Last year made it six years since the late Kurakawa Mari died. Her mother’s been thinking about living separately ever since then. She held out for another year, but today she hit her breaking point, ultimately parting ways with Sakurada.” Every single word he spoke sounded like a sigh. It was as though each syllable was chiseling away at a wooden statue, and bit by bit, it disappeared into nothing.

“I’m not too sure. I think Mari’s mother at least tried loving her.” Kei challenged. Even if she had been ultimately incapable, she had certainly put in the effort. The evidence was undeniable. “Mari’s hair and nails are beautifully groomed, and she’s always wearing nice clothes.”

As Kei mentioned the name brand of Mari’s clothes, a popular and expensive children’s line, he tried imagining a mother buying expensive clothes for her daughter, all the while convinced she could never love her. Of course, his imagination wasn’t adept enough to give him the full picture, but whatever it looked like, couldn’t that have been her efforts to show Mari love?

Perhaps some might find it too simple and trite to represent love, or even denounce it as a pathetic replacement. But the possibility that it was real love existed. Her struggle was evident. Mari’s hair, her nails, her clothes, all of it spoke to her mother’s great struggle to try and find a real love for her daughter.

Tshushima spoke, his voice muted. “You might think differently if you saw her. She looks at least ten years older than she is. She’s already got gray hair and wrinkles spotted here and there, plus a bad habit of biting her nails. Every time she speaks, it’s to say that it’s her fault. ‘It’s my fault I can’t love her, it’s all my fault.’ She’s almost nonsensical. What are we even supposed to do with that?”

All pretenses of politeness had dropped from his speech. Mari’s mother wasn’t the only one who was exhausted. Even Bureau staff had their limits.

Kei forced a smile on his face. “You’re a coward, you know.”

“Coward?”

“Drop the Bureau staff bit. It was the Administration Bureau who planted the idea to leave, wasn’t it?” Kei couldn’t prove it, but it made a whole lot of sense that the Bureau would want Mari for their own.

“You’re right.” Words started vomiting out of the Bureau staff member. “There’s no way we’re gonna overlook a human created by an ability. Anybody who’s got the ability to create life needs to be kept under control. All that can come from that is more problems.”

Tsushima had been right when he said that the conversation wasn’t for Mari’s ears. No matter how much she knew, she didn’t deserve to have her existence reduced down to the creation of future problems.

“Is Mari… human?” Kei asked, revulsion coating his mouth. It was a disgusting question.

“As far as the test results show, she’s no different from a human.”

“A blessing in disguise for the Bureau, I’d guess.”

“Yep.”

“What are you going to do with her?”

“She’ll live a normal childhood. Mari herself will be led to believe that she is a normal human. The fewer people who know the real situation, the better. Mari’s mother was a loose end, if you will. It was suggested that she leave Sakurada, and that tidied things right up.”

Kei had intentionally phrased the question to try and push Tsushima’s buttons, but the man’s voice was calm and subdued throughout. He was probably being considerate of Mari just being one door away from them. Nobody else could have heard him at that volume. He really was a nice guy.

Kei spoke up, his smile still in place. “So the Administration Bureau prioritized the well-being of the maximum number of people. If Mari’s mother left Sakurada, then that left only one little girl who was affected.”

“Yes. That is the way of the Bureau.”

“Do you think the way of the Bureau is right?”

“Anything that leads to a child crying couldn’t possibly be skewed as right.”

“But sometimes you have to make the wrong choice.”

The Bureau employee spat out a quick laugh. “Ha! And so what? If all the choices are wrong, then you shouldn’t make one.”

For the first time, his answer was outside of Kei’s expectations. “Now you’re just being inconsistent. What do you want from all this?”

“I don’t ‘want’ anything. This whole ordeal has nothing to do with me.”

“This has plenty to do with you.”

“Look here. My job is just me doing a bunch of things I don’t want to do.”

Kei sighed. The one thing that had become clear was how dissatisfied the man was with his position. Fortunately, that was all Kei needed to know.

“We’re done talking. Mari will be coming with me.” Tsushima reached for the door.

Kei grabbed his outstretched arm. “That’s not your decision to make.” He shifted his gaze over to Haruki Misora. “It’s yours. Will you hand Mari over to this man, and by extension, the Bureau?”

In his heart, Kei repeated, The only one I’m here for is Haruki Misora.

Could she go beyond her rules, finding her emotions that lay beyond? Everything had been leading towards this moment. He repeated, The only one I’m here for is Haruki Misora.

Haruk’s silence hung in the air. Kei held onto Tsushima’s arm as he watched over her. He wasn’t all that strong, and Tsushima could have easily broken out of Kei’s grasp. But everything held still.

As if squeezing out her own voice, Haruki said, “Asai Kei. Let go of his hand.”

“Is that really what you want?”

“Yes. I have decided that it is best for Mari to be taken in by the Administration Bureau.”

Asai Kei sighed, letting go of Tsushima’s arm. Souma Sumire’s words echoed in his mind.

Even so, Haruki can’t really help anyone.

✽

Mari didn’t cry when Tsushima took her hand and helped her stand.

Haruki Misora watched everything unfold from outside. As Mari passed by Haruki, she seemed to almost reach her hand out, but it stopped before it could touch Haruki’s dress.

Haruki’s chest hurt. It felt just like when she was five years old, grieving the death of a cicada. As the pain began throbbing, her vision suddenly faded. Haruki Misora was swallowed by a strange darkness.

More people should be making decisions for well-being. They need to minimize their negative impact on others’ lives. The Bureau does just that, protecting as many people as possible.

She had followed the very rules that she set up. All she did was judge by the same standard that she had used for years. So what were the feelings blooming within her? Her chest hurt. There was no reason to feel any sadness, but even so, her cheeks burned hot, as though they were streaked with tears.

I wish it were the other way around, Haruki thought. Mari is just like a normal kid. I wish I were the one created by an ability. I’m already close enough to being an android.

Surely that would fix everything.

Haruki didn’t want to be loved by her mother. She didn’t want anything, in fact.

I wish I were Mari, Haruki thought, surrounded by the mysterious darkness.

If their places were switched, then nobody would have to be sad. But Mari was Mari, and Haruki was Haruki. Somebody must have made a mistake somewhere. Somebody had crossed the wires in the wrong directions. And now that mistake was coming at a great cost. That cost was causing the pain deep within her chest.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the darkness.

“We can still make it.”

It took a significant amount of time for Haruki to recognize the voice as Asai Kei’s.

“Haruki Misora. There are two choices in front of you.”

Souma Sumire’s words washed over her.

There were two white boxes in front of her, exactly the same shape. No matter which one she chose, nothing would change. Those boxes were worthless before Haruki Misora. She needed a set of rules just to pick a side.

Kei’s voice continued, “You can choose one, and nothing will change. Everything will stay just the way it is. But if you choose the other, we might be able to help Mari.”

His words were quiet and gentle. He continued in the same gentle tone, “Are you going to save Mari, or keep everything the way that it already is? Are you sure that both of those choices look the exact same to you? Are they really the same color?”

Choices. Color. Shape.

The same?

Haruki Misora opened her eyes. She only realized they had been closed once she finally relaxed them. The mysterious darkness wasn’t mysterious at all. She had just closed her eyes.

The first thing she saw was Asai Kei’s smile. He was staring intently at her, his face serious. “Tell me, Haruki Misora. Can you really say that this decision means nothing to you?”

Haruki Misora stared directly back at Kei. “I… cannot.”

“Then choose. Make a decision from your emotions. Pick a side, not because you have to, but because you want to. Make it count.”

Haruki Misora answered, “I want… to help Mari.”

He smiled, but not gently, as he had before. Instead, the corners of his mouth bent upwards, making him look daring. As though he could accomplish anything. “If that’s what you desire, then we can make it reality.”

“Is that really possible?”

“We can do almost anything together. We can remember what happened today, take it into the past, and look for a brighter future together.”

Asai Kei spoke calmly yet resolutely, declaring for all the world to hear.

“Haruki, let’s reset.”