One night, Tenma dreamt he was working in his old laboratory at the Ministry of Science.

At first, the atmosphere in the lab been pleasant; Tenma felt younger, and it was incredibly cathartic to see the blue glow from the night sky beam in through the skylight above the development table. The faint blue glow landed among all the now-vintage equipment. Tenma recognized his settings well...dusty CPU tracking monitors beside the lab coat rack, a bulky memory disc conversion chamber, a trash can stuffed with empty ramen cups. The laboratory felt more like home to Tenma than his own house.

He couldn't recall what he had been doing in this dream; something to do with paperwork. He had sat down at the central work desk, reading something, though every time his eyes tried to scan the page, it was covered in random letters but formatted like an actual lab notice. He groaned in annoyance, and rested his arm on the desktop, being careful not to overturn the full ashtray to his left.

Someone's soft footsteps slowly tapped closer into the room. Without looking, Tenma called out, "I'm closed for appointments. Come back tomorrow."

"Father."

The voice was cold and calm, monotone. The default, unprocessed adult voice for service androids. Tenma had heard it plenty of times, but hearing it speak the word he just heard forced Tenma to turn around, a chill running up his back.

Across the room, an android child – devoid of a finished outer casing, its internal mechanic design primitive – stood in the blue-lit doorway. It attempted to walk forward on jointless legs, toddling like a bony, wiry penguin. As it moved closer, it spoke, "Father. What have you done."

"Father?" He tried to scoff back, voice wavering. "You don't look anything like my son."

"Of course I do not." The robot continued. "I have died twice. Both times it has been at your hands."

Tenma went silent. The robot's clinking toddling was quickly turning from pathetic to incredibly disturbing.

"Why do you keep me from staying dead. Look at me." It slowly outputted. "I cannot pass as human nor robot. Why must I be forced to live."

"D-Don't talk to me like-" Tenma could barely choke out words. The robot still remained several metres away from Tenma, but the man still pushed himself up against the development table, his eyes searching the room for another door out. His stomach churned hard as the stiff little robot gawked at him from across the room.

"Why am I not allowed to rest." The robot's mouth still didn't move. "How many times must you torture me like this."

Its eyes didn't blink, either, as it tottered slowly towards Tenma.

Tenma woke up, breathless, bile burning at the back of his throat. He scrambled off his cot as fast as he could, but still fell onto the floor in a heap, gagging, until he finally vomited in great distress. He only realized he was weeping when he could hear prison guards hurrying up the hall and getting closer to his cell.

He couldn't believe, of all the things he could've worried about in that moment, how much he didn't want Ochanomizu or Astro to see him in that /

Metro City Penitentiary's medium security facility was a far cry from its maximum security wards. The corridors were less intimidating and stark, but certainly dirtier. A fluorescent ceiling light flickered overhead, sending one quick quiver of shade through the hallway. It always gave Reiga flashbacks to high school.

An anxious Reiga Sakamoto pointed at a small black speck on the ground, which lay directly in front of the visitor bench. It had to be either a coffee grind or a pebble, but with an uneasy laugh, he joked, "What kind of beetle do you think that is?"

The woman sitting beside Reiga turned to stare down at him. She muttered, "Do you think I'm a child?"

"N-No, ma'am," babbled Reiga. He squirmed nervously in his seat. He could sense the two guards standing alongside the bench were equally unimpressed with Reiga. Worse yet, her perfume was really starting to overwhelm him.

The woman turned away. Reiga caught a glimpse as she turned away from him; her metallic wine red eyeshadowed eyes were narrowed, focused like needles on the door ahead of them. Reiga turned back to his satchel and thought pondered how his client - one of Skunk Kusai's toadies - had managed to snag her as a girlfriend.

The door to the visitation room finally opened. The squeal of its dry hinges sounded almost melodious to Reiga in that moment. A security officer gestured, a short wave, for the Reiga's group to come in.

No sooner had Reiga gotten to his feet, the woman was speed-walking into the visitation room with two startled guards tailing after her. The scrawny man rushed to get into the room, and was relieved to see all his colleagues were now at ease; Reiga's client - "Jazz" Rutkowski, from Skunk Kusai's inner circle - was being throttled by the woman Reiga had escorted in. She had Jazz by the collar and was shouting, enraged, towering over the stout man; meanwhile, the lackey appeared to be enjoying every second of it.

"You rat bastard!" she howled down at him. "You decide to borrow my sterling silver hoops for a heist you know you're gonna screw up?! The prison only just gave them back today!"

"'Cause I knew you'd be mad whenever you got here," Jazz replied dreamily. "You're so hot when you're mad!"

"Of course I'm mad, you louse-! You...!" The tall goth begun to trail off. She suddenly looked compassionate, and released the vengeful grip on Jazz's collar. "Oh, shmoopie, I missed you!"

"I missed you too, baby," whined Jazz.

Reiga winced as the lackey was pulled into the woman's fur coat-lined embrace. He wasn't sure if he was experiencing secondhand embarrassment, or just envy.

"All right, break it up," said one of the security officers with a disgusted groan. "This is a sit-down visit. Get to the chairs."

The door to the room rattled gently; everyone in the room glanced up to check it, but most turned away after seeing it was merely another social worker at the door. She was one of the newer employees, and she gestured for Reiga to step out of the room.

"Hey, Sakamoto," whispered the trainee. "Tawashi sent me to supervise in your place. You're wanted on the max grounds."

Reiga breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Maybe the new omamori he'd tied on his satchel was finally working. Taking the opportunity to leave, Reiga carefully shuffled out of the room.

In the hallway, Reiga carefully pulled some papers out from his satchel and counted them under his breath. He nodded and handed the stack over to the trainee, who instinctively nodded back.

"First document's the medical report. Second one's the conjugal visit information..." Reiga paused, letting his professional voice switch off. "...Did Tenma page me?"

"Yeah," said the trainee. "Were you expecting him?"

"No, but I had a feeling it'd be him. You be careful in there, Inoue," Reiga said, before turning on his heel. He was making a beeline for the inter-facility monorail.

Reiga happened to look down, noting the little dark mark on the ground from before. He strained to see what it actually was as he passed by...but only saw it scuttling away on its tiny legs. Reiga screeched and ran faster down the hall.

Tenma's supervisors had given him a little furnished room, once again. As usual, security cameras dotted the corners and ceiling, like animals peeking out from the brush of a forest's edge. The taste of illness still faintly stung Tenma's throat, but by all accounts, he had restored himself almost perfectly.

It was close to noon when Dr. Tenma's visitation room finally opened. The doctor glanced up, uneasy,; he was only slightly relieved to see Reiga Sakamoto stepping in. It was exactly who Tenma wanted to see, but this also meant Tenma would have to talk to another person.

"Good afternoon, doc," Reiga said warmly. He had a gentle smile as he approached the pair of white couches in the centre of the room, soon taking a seat on the one across from Tenma.

"I'm sorry to pull you away from your work," replied an uneasy Tenma.

"Actually, I was gonna thank you," laughed Reiga. "I was about to facilitate a conjugal visit application for one of my other clients."

"Oh." Tenma snarked. "Lovely."

"It just comes with the job," Reiga smirked, riffling through his satchel. He pulled out a notepad and pen, and asked, "So, what's up?"

Tenma allowed himself to roll his eyes at the phrasing. What's "up", good lord, he thought. What is he, a high school guidance counsellor? Tenma forced himself to pause his sarcastic thoughts; he was getting carried away, and besides, he knew he was only this irritable because of a bad dream.

The bad dream. Right. Tenma sat back, fidgeting with his hands. "Well, you see, I had a certain dream last night..."

Reiga was a good listener, as it turned out. Tenma carefully recalled and described everything he'd seen in the dream, stumbling over his own words at times, but Reiga remained silent. The young man's eyes even seemed compassionate as he jotted down a few notes on his memo pad. When Tenma's voice started to waver, he made himself look down to the ground, lest he start crying in front of Reiga.

Reiga, in the meantime, looked down at the floor, too. Tenma couldn't tell if the younger man was doing it on reflex or just to be polite, but Tenma wasn't exactly in the mood to be analytical. Whatever it was, he appreciated it.

"...And it's not the first nightmare I've had about, er, my creations, but..." Tenma fidgeted with his hands, having folded them together on his knees. He stared down at his twiddling thumbs, continuing, "...It's the first one I've had since interacting with Astro again."

"Ah, I can see why it'd be especially startling..." Reiga clicked his pen off. "What do you think that dream is trying to tell you?"

"What I think? Well, hmm..." Tenma focused for a moment. "Guilt. I'm reminding myself what I feel guilty of."

Reiga paused; he sat back, pensive, rubbing his thumb along his own jawline. "Well, I think it's more that your brain is just digesting the thoughts it's had all day. Dreams are usually caused by whatever you were last thinking about."

"Go on."

"I can only analyze so much with what I know, but the vibe it gives i- er, the impression I get from the dream's scenario is that you've been worrying about Astro."

Tenma blinked. He sat back, sheepish, almost unprepared to have Astro brought up before him. Reiga, meanwhile, looked back at Tenma reassuringly.

"That's not a bad thing at all. Your perception of him seems to be evolving, and you're coming to terms with the past."

"I-It's just hard to be reminded," Tenma blurted out. He leaned forward, huddling in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "Maybe Astro really is forced to think about the things that robot was saying."

"Why not ask Astro the next time you see him?"

"W-What?!"

Reiga gently shrugged. He continued, "I think it would make for a good opportunity to tell him you accept him."

"That's...true," Tenma sighed. "I'll have to psyche myself up for that next."

"You do have three weeks to do so," Reiga begun the spiel, but stopped, his smile dropping. "I'm sorry you had to go through that dream, though."

"It's fine. I've been pushing this all to the back of my mind for so long, and..." Tenma paused, letting his hands unclench. "...I guess burying memories isn't something humans nor robots can do."

Reiga nodded. "You've been through a lot. The healing process can have rough moments like this."

"So you'd say I'm healing, eh?"

With another shrug, Reiga replied, "I'd sure say you've improved over the last few months!"

It was reassuring to hear nonetheless. Tenma took a moment to think his options over, feeling strangely at ease; this was the first time in a long while that complying with someone else seemed to get Tenma somewhere.

He didn't want to leave the room silent for long, though. Tenma glanced back up at Reiga, smug, and added, "Well, thank you for cleaning up my "vibes", Sakamoto."

Reiga laughed despite his visible wince. He replied, "Aw, no, that's not how you use it in a sentence!"

"I figured as much. But I always get a kick out of misusing slang in front of young people...you should've seen the rise I'd get out of my lab technicians whenever I told them to "turn off the Galagas" on their phones."

"Oh, I get you...I did that once, actually," Reiga said, nodding once again; Tenma thought to himself, How many times a day does he nod like that?

"Yes?"

"Yeah. A few months ago, I was showing some new social workers around the facility, and I asked one of the guys how his graduate studies were going. He said he'd started his thesis, and I said, "oh wig". He looked like he wanted to tear my head off."

Tenma burst out laughing. "Good lord, it's been a while since I've heard that word!"

Yet, something had been gnawing at Tenma's nerves almost as much as the dream had been. He forced himself to stop laughing, sitting back on the couch, suddenly becoming visibly uneasy.

"Now, speaking of people who want to tear my head off," Tenma begun to ask, his voice becoming softer. "Has Ochanomizu said anything about me lately?"

Reiga seemed to grimace. Tenma eyed the younger man curiously; maybe Reiga was just straining to remember. He shook his head in response.

"No, uh, we've talked, but it was just about scheduling information," said Reiga. "Was there something you wanted me to pass on to him?"

"Er..." Tenma glanced up, noting the security cameras above them. "I guess...just tell him I'm sorry."

"About what, specifically?"

Tenma glared back at Reiga with a dead-eyed stare. Reiga defensively held his hands up, sputtering, "I-I didn't mean it like that, doc!"

"Fine," Tenma grumbled. "Ochanomizu would be confused, too, I imagine."

An awkward silence passed through the room once again. Tenma could sense his thirty minutes was almost up, and he sighed, gathering his words once and for all.

"Can you let Hiroshi know I'm sorry it got this bad?"

Tenma's voice sounded weaker than he expected and wanted. Much to his relief, Reiga was looking back at the doctor with a look of gentle understanding.

"For sure, I'll tell him," Reiga nodded.

Tenma remarked to himself, That makes the third nod, before scolding himself for being snide. Maybe one day the inside of his own head wouldn't feel like such a mess of sound and intrusive thoughts.

"...Was there anything else on your mind today, doc?"

"No, that's about everything. I don't want to keep pulling you off your schedule, so..."

"Doc, like I said, I'd otherwise be helping one of Skunk's henchm-" Reiga suddenly stopped talking, and he froze, his eyes wide and his pen gripped with talon-like fingers. "Shit. I'm not supposed to say that."

"Patient confidentiality, I assume?" asked Tenma, intrigued.

"Y-Yeah. Thank god they don't monitor the audio in here. Let's pretend that didn't happ-"

"Who's the bastard getting the conjugal visit? The tall nu-goth or the little one?"

"I-I can neither confirm," grimaced Reiga as he loudly recited some old oath. "Nor deny, if my client is..."

"It's all right. Don't hurt yourself," Tenma groaned. He waved off Reiga dismissively, yet it seemed to put the younger man at ease. The look on his face reminded Tenma of a Pound Puppy doll.

"Don't tell my superiors that I let that slip," Reiga pleaded.

"I absolutely will not. You've done me quite a favour in running over here at a moment's notice, Reiga."

Reiga sat up, almost glowing upon hearing the doctor use his first name. "Aw geez, just doing my job...!"

"I wouldn't gain anything from it, anyway."

Reiga visibly deflated on impact. His smile seemed to melt away, and he slowly sunk into his seat on the couch. Tenma did pity Reiga, but it wasn't enough to hold back Tenma's explosive laughter. Meanwhile, the case worker glared back at Tenma with a look that reminded him of a miffed cat.

"I'm joking, Reiga!" Tenma gasped through his laughter. "Sorry; I'm sorry. I couldn't resist."

"You kinda scared me there," moped Reiga. He sat up and fidgeted pitifully with his note-taking pen.

"I have a very stern voice, I know."

"Yeah, i-it can startle me sometimes," Reiga glanced up, his eyes suddenly alight with excitement. "But like, I was listening to your old Ministry speeches in the library the other day. You sound great at a podium, like, I got so focused that I wound up learning how LED screens work..."

It was genuine, but too cloying. Tenma had never liked flattery. He let the social worker babble on a little further before he sternly held up one hand. "It's all right, Reiga. You don't need to win me over."

"S-Sorry."

"I'd be more worried if they assigned me someone who didn't make mistakes from time to time. It means I can actually take what you're saying seriously."

"Ah geez, really?"

"Of course. So to speak, you wouldn't trust a surgeon who hadn't bled before, would you?"

"No," Reiga replied through a daze. He seemed a little stunned but still enthusiastic. Tenma said to himself, Bless your dopey heart, Sakamoto.