Part 2: You in the Window

Yumi gazed out the window and watched the clouds go by as she waited for the teacher to stop talking so class could be over and she could go home. She didn't have to work today, and by the time she got home, her dad should have the persocom back from Mutou's shop. Maybe she'd be fixed, Yumi thought. She knew sometimes just a little thing going wrong made a persocom stop functioning; as advanced as they were, they were still computers, and vulnerable to some of the same problems computers always had.

But she'd never heard of one only being able to say one word.

Someone slapped their hands on her desk, and Yumi jumped with a small cry. She turned to see her friend Misha standing there, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail as usual, staring down at her.

"You," Misha said, poking Yumi's forehead, "have been spaced out all day. Tell me?"

Yumi rubbed at her forehead and managed a smile. "It's nothing, really," she said. "Just something kind of weird happened last night."

Misha's dark eyes brightened. "Something with a boy?" She paused. "Finally?"

"Misha," Yumi murmured. Much like Yumi's parents, Misha hadn't approved of Yumi's relationship with Mister Ueda. But that was because Misha had gotten it into her head that the woman should always be the older one in the relationship. Yumi had never known if this was because Misha had never been able to find a boy she liked older than her or if she just liked bucking tradition. "It's not about that. I found a persocom in someone's trash."

"You were digging through the trash?" Misha's voice threatened to rise to levels only dogs could hear; several of their departing classmates turned and looked. "Yumi, that's-"

"Nothing like that!" Yumi said, also louder than necessary. "It was just sitting there on the trash bags. I took her home, and when I turned her on, all she could say was 'chi'. I think she's broken, so my dad's going to see if she can get fixed."

"Oh," Misha said, quickly sounding disappointed. "So that's it. Is it a regular persocom? A person-shaped one?" When Yumi nodded, Misha frowned, the corners of her small mouth drawing down. "I didn't think you'd want one of those."

Misha didn't need to explain why, Yumi thought. After what happened with Mister Ueda, no one would expect her to want a full-size persocom. "I didn't," Yumi said quietly. "But there's . . . something about her, I think. I felt sorry for her, getting thrown out in the trash like that. And she's not like other persocoms."

"Of course not," Misha said, and winked. "She was free."

"Not just that." Yumi thought for a moment, then stood. "Come on, we can talk about it on the way out."

They headed out into the wide hallway, classroom doors standing open on both walls. The midsummer sunlight came in through dozens of high windows, and a few persocoms stood outside the classrooms, waiting for their owners to emerge. Yumi leaned her arms back and stretched. Days like this, all the better that she didn't have to go to work. Days like this were made for not doing much of anything at all.

And it seemed Misha was thinking much the same thing. "Do you want to go to the mall?" she asked. "There's that new tea place, and I want to see if it's any good."

"I can't today," Yumi said, bowed her head a bit as apology. "My dad should have the persocom back from the shop by now, so I want to see if she's working."

"You got a persocom, Oumura?"

Yumi stifled a sigh at the sound of the familiar voice, and turned. One of her classmates stood there, a boy named Kenji who bragged a lot about his custom work on persocoms. "Hello, Kenji," Yumi said. "I have a persocom, but I don't think I'll bring her to school."

Kenji pushed up his thick glasses, ran his hand over his spiky hair. Yumi wondered if he spiked his hair up like that so he wouldn't look so much like a computer geek. "What model?" he asked. "The SX-3000's out soon, tell me you didn't-"

Misha stepped up and waved her hand in Kenji's face. "She doesn't have to tell you a thing, so you can just wonder about it," she said. "Now, shoo!"

"Piss off." Kenji seemed like he was doing his best to ignore Misha, which must have been hard. "Come on, tell me what you've got." He leered at Yumi. "Or is it something weak, so you don't want to say?"

"I can't say because I don't know," Yumi said, then moved a step closer to Misha. "I think she's custom-"

"You've got a custom job, Oumura?" Kenji asked, just short of a shout. "No way! I didn't think you were into 'coms that much, I never would have guessed that! What's her processor speed?"

"Nine thousand 'go away's a second," Misha said, then laughed in Kenji's face when he blinked at her. She grabbed Yumi's arm, then turned and ran, forcing Yumi to hurry along with her. She didn't stop until they were outside the school. "I really can't stand that guy," Misha said, looking back the way they'd come with a frown on her face.

"I . . . I know," Yumi said, trying to catch her breath. "And I'm sorry . . . I really want to see if they've got the persocom fixed."

Misha gave a dramatic sigh. "You're dumping me for a persocom." She put the back of her hand to her forehead, a pose full of overwrought pain, then froze. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She balled up her hands under her chin. "I shouldn't have said that, that's not funny for you!"

Yumi just shook her head. When Misha got dramatic, the more rational parts of her mind kind of took a holiday. Once, she'd turned a simple problem with returning a purse into a fiasco that took three managers to straighten out. "It's okay," she said. "And it was kind of funny. But we can go . . . the next day I have off of work. I just have to see if she's working."

"Then bring her along when we go out," Misha said with a nod. "I want to see this mysterious persocom you pulled out of the trash."

"I will! See you tomorrow!" Yumi hurried away with a wave. Home wasn't too far away, she thought; with any luck, her dad had taken the persocom to Mutou's shop first thing in the morning, and she would be working now.

Yumi slowed as her thoughts caught up with her. Something still seemed strange. What she'd found was . . . just another persocom, right? Even if she acted differently than any persocom Yumi had heard of. Her sister's persocom had said "Hey, baby" when she turned it on; of course, her sister paid extra for the personality that complimented her all the time. Yumi had never understood that. But her own rabbit-shaped persocom back at home had just said "Hello!" when she first turned it on. Even her PDA did the same, it seemed like the standard programming. So maybe whatever persocoms used for talking, the new one was broken there.

But even then, she'd never heard of a persocom hugging someone as soon as it was turned on, or having a switch . . . there. The thought still made Yumi feel a little strange. Custom job or not, it just didn't seem right.

Hopefully Mutou had some answers for her dad.

Yumi arrived home and ran inside. "I'm home!" she said as she walked in. "Dad, did you talk to Mutou? Is the persocom all right?"

Her father's voice came from somewhere nearby, and he did not sound happy. "I'm in the office," he said. "Come in here please, Yumi."

Yumi took off her shoes slowly, donned a pair of house slippers. When was the last time her dad had sounded like that? She approached the office slowly, hoping something bad hadn't happened.

"Good afternoon, dad," Yumi said as she entered the office. Her father's desk took up most of the room, with a large monitor and keyboard and stacks of paper next to the printer. But where their persocom should have been, a different persocom stood next to the desk, a brown-haired male in a suit with absolutely no expression on his face. Several wires from his streamlined ear units connected to the monitor and keyboard. "Who's that?" Yumi asked. "Doesn't Hanako usually help you work-"

"Hanako," her father interrupted, "is in Mutou's shop for repairs. I took her along with me and your new persocom, so she could help if needed. Mutou gives a discount if you have one of your own machines help." He paused, and Yumi nodded. He then gave her a pointed look.

"When we plugged Hanako and one of Mutou's diagnostic persocoms into your new one, both of them blew out in a matter of seconds. Hanako's hair caught fire and melted part of her face."

Yumi put a hand to her mouth as she gasped. "What – what did she do? I didn't think persocoms could hurt each other like that."

"Neither did Mutou." Her father shook his head. "After that, he was reluctant to plug anything else into her. I'm sure you can understand. But he did try to get her specs by plugging her into a monitor." He spread his hands. "Yumi, she has no data at all. She doesn't appear to have an OS. She shouldn't even be able to move, let alone speak."

Yumi leaned against the door frame, trying to take all this in. First the persocom ruined others just by plugging into them, and then she shouldn't be doing anything to begin with? "Did Mutou figure out anything about her?" she asked quietly.

"Only that she's definitely a custom job," her father said. "He knows the brands better than anyone, and he's never seen a model like her. It's possible she's someone's mistake, or she broke and even whoever made her couldn't figure out how to fix her." He folded his hands, rested his chin on them. "What do you want to do with her?"

Yumi started to say something, then paused. What good would a persocom that couldn't do anything be? She wouldn't be of any real use, but . . . Yumi started to wonder if this had ever happened before. Persocoms were supposed to be so helpful, that was why everybody wanted one and why so many people spent all their time with them. One that couldn't do anything . . . no wonder she'd been out in the trash.

"Where is she?" Yumi asked.

Her father sighed. "She's in your room, I told her to stay there. I haven't seen her, so I think she understood. You'd better make sure she didn't try to plug into your desktop or something worse."

"I will," Yumi said with a nod. "Thank you for taking her to Mutou, Dad."

"Thank me by not saying anything to Hanako about her face when she gets back." Her father shook his head. "I told Mutou to erase her memory of the incident, and I don't want her to think anything's different."

Yumi nodded again, then headed up to her room, taking the steps slowly. After waiting all day, there were still no answers. Just more questions. When she reached her door, she opened it just a bit and peered inside first.

The persocom sat there in one of Yumi's plain white shirts and an old denim skirt, staring out the window, watching the clouds go by. Somehow, she looked entirely at peace, as though she had no idea what sort of problems she'd caused. Yumi frowned for a moment, then reconsidered. If the persocom didn't have any data, she probably didn't understand what she'd done. How could she? She couldn't even say more than one word.

Yumi pushed the door open, and the persocom animated all at once, stood and rushed toward her. "Chi!" she cried as she ran up and wrapped her arms around Yumi. "Chi!"

Yumi just stood there, unsure of what to do. Slowly, she put her arms around the persocom as well, felt her nuzzle against her again. "I'm home," Yumi said, not entirely sure why.

"Chi," the persocom said, then looked at Yumi and smiled. "Chi!"

"Should that be your name?" Yumi asked, watched the persocom give her a confused look. "Do you . . . want that to be your name?" She'd heard that persocoms were normally programmed to take whatever name their owners gave them, so if this one wasn't like others . . . would she refuse?

"Chi?" the persocom asked, then looked down at herself and back to Yumi. "Chi . . . chi?"

Yumi pointed at her. "Chi," she said, then pointed at herself. "Yumi."

The persocom pointed at her, and said, "Chi."

"No, not me," Yumi said, unable to keep from laughing. She pointed again. "You're Chi, and I'm Yumi."

"Chi," Chi said, pointing at herself, then pointed at Yumi. "Yumi!"

Yumi laughed again, her smile coming easily. It was a start. She looked again at Chi, who somehow seemed eager. "You really don't know anything, do you." Chi gave her another curious look and another "Chi?", and Yumi sighed. "I could probably get you a dictionary program, but . . . would it even work on you? Do you know?"

"Yumi," Chi said, then leaned against her again. "Chi. . . ."

Yumi put a hand on Chi's shoulder, then looked around her room. What could she do? Maybe she could get some kind of teaching program for her desktop, but that might just have her plug Chi into the other machine, and that probably wouldn't be a good idea. She looked some more, until she reached the stacks of schoolbooks and manga on her shelf.

That might work, she thought. Chi could understand people, she could probably read. Yumi tugged on Chi's shoulder, trying to get her to move back, but the persocom didn't seem to want to move. "Chi," Yumi asked, "can you read?"

That worked. Chi pulled back and gave Yumi another curious look. "Chi?" she asked.

"Can you read?" Yumi asked again. "Here, look at these." Yumi walked over and pulled out a book, some story about ancient Japan from school last year that she'd liked enough to read again. She opened the book and showed it to Chi. "Can you read these?"

Chi peered at the book, then pointed to the words. "Yumi," she said, then looked up at Yumi and smiled.

Yumi hung her head. This might be a lot more difficult than she'd thought. How was she supposed to teach a persocom how to read? She started looking around for her dictionary, then paused as she saw Chi point to the book again.

Was it her imagination, or did Chi look like she was focused on reading? Something seemed different about her eyes, like she was concentrating. Yumi held the book open, waited for Chi to do something different. After a moment, Chi pointed to another word, and looked to Yumi again.

"Samurai," Chi said. "Samurai?"

"Yes, samurai," Yumi said with a nod. "That's what the book's about. So you can read, can't you?" She handed the book to Chi, who took it and plopped down on the floor, her head bent over the pages.

That was a relief, Yumi thought. If she'd had to teach Chi Japanese, she . . . she wasn't sure what she would have done. There were programs to teach persocoms all kinds of languages, but those all were for normal persocoms. And Chi clearly wasn't anything close to normal.

"Yumi!" her mother called from downstairs. "Come down, please, we need to talk to you!"

Yumi winced. "I'll be back soon," she said to Chi. Chi looked up at her and smiled, said "Chi!", then went back to reading. At least that hadn't changed, Yumi thought.

She hurried downstairs, found both her parents waiting at the bottom of the steps. The concerned look on her mother's face was familiar; it seemed like she'd been wearing it all Yumi's life. Her father looked much the same, and Yumi wondered if the damage to Hanako was still on his mind.

"What is it?" Yumi asked. For a moment neither of them spoke, and Yumi's heart beat harder, once. This wasn't going to be good, was it?

"Do you want to keep the persocom?" her father asked, giving her a serious look from beneath his thick eyebrows. "We've talked, and we don't know if it's a good idea to keep one like her in the house."

"If she's damaged Hanako already," her mother said, sadness in her voice, "who knows what she could do to another persocom? I don't think she'd put you in danger, but we don't know anything about her, do we?"

"Her name's Chi," Yumi said, almost on reflex. "I – I thought it fit, since that's all she could say at first. But she's said a few more things, and now she's upstairs reading. I think she'll learn things as she goes."

"Learn things?" Her parents shared a look, and her father shook his head. "Yumi, persocoms don't work that way. They're programmed with what they know, or they download information. But they don't learn, not like we do."

Yumi nodded. "I know, but I told her my name, and she said it," she said. "And when I showed her a book, she looked at it for a while, then said one of the words. She's reading now."

"Are you sure?" her mother asked. She held a dishtowel in her hands, and wrung it between her fingers as she spoke. "It could all be part of some program, something that someone put into her so she could go live somewhere else and damage their persocoms, it could be. . . ."

Her father shook his head. "We don't have proof of anything like that." He looked at Yumi. "I don't think – Chi, you called her? – is dangerous, but I think you should keep her away from any other persocoms, just in case."

"Don't let her near Hanako again," her mother said.

Yumi smiled at them both. For a moment there, it seemed like they were going to take Chi away. That couldn't happen, not when she still knew so little . . . not when Chi was just starting to learn things. And no matter what her dad said, Chi had to be learning, there was really no other way to explain it. "I won't!" she said.

"Dinner's in an hour," her mother said, then turned back toward the kitchen. She paused a moment later. "Oh! Yumi, don't forget, your sister's birthday is in two days. Will you go to pick up the cake before the party, so she doesn't see it until it's time?"

"Of course!" Yumi hurried back up to her room, then paused outside her door again. What would she find when she went inside? Would Chi have read the entire book, or something amazing like that, proving that there was something special about her? Yumi thought about it, and realized she hoped it wouldn't happen like that. Some persocoms could read through books in a few minutes, then tell you everything that happened like they'd known the story all their lives. If Chi did that, she'd be just like the rest of them.

Yumi opened her door, saw Chi was only a few pages into the story, and let out a quiet sigh of unexpected relief. Chi turned to look at her and gave her a bright smile. "Do you like the book, Chi?" Yumi asked.

"Chi!" Chi said, sounding very enthusiastic.

Yumi sat on her bed and watched Chi for a moment. "I really don't know what to do with you," she said, thinking out loud. "I don't want to take you to school-"

Chi looked up all of a sudden, something like sadness in her eyes. "Chi?" she asked, a pleading note in her voice. She put the book aside and stood, then leaned over and propped herself up with one hand on Yumi's bed. She reached for Yumi's shoulder, rested her hand there. "Yumi . . . Chi?"

"Oh, it's not that," Yumi said, waving her hands in sudden apology. "They make all the persocoms wait outside the classrooms, because there's not enough space for them. I don't want you to have to spend all day standing there."

When the look on Chi's face didn't change, Yumi continued, her voice softer. "And I don't know if it would be a good idea, to bring you there," she said. "You don't know much, you can hardly talk . . . all the people and other persocoms might be too much for you. Maybe if you could say more, or knew more?"

"Chi . . . does not know?" she asked, sounding like she was struggling with the words. She lowered her eyes. "Chi . . . does not know. Yumi knows. Yumi?"

Yumi stared at her for a moment as she realized what Chi was asking her. Chi wanted to know things, and she wanted Yumi to teach her. She blinked, slowly. Of all the things she'd never expected to hear from a persocom. "I'll try," she said quietly. "I don't know how much I can do, but I'll try."

"Chi," Chi said, and smiled again. A moment later, she lifted her hand to her face, and pressed her fingers to her lips, then her cheeks. "Chi does not know . . . this. But Chi . . . likes this."

"It's a smile," Yumi said, and matched it with one of her own. "It's what you do when you're happy."