Oh my... I wonder if anyone remembers this fic. ^^;; It's been a while, hasn't it? I fixed a hangup with the plot, so I hope to be a little more productive with this story from now on. ^^ Enjoy!
Chapter 9 - Kamui Finds a Job
"Kaichou."
Nokoru turned at the sound of Suoh's voice. The blue-haired persocon regarded him seriously, with a slight air of discomfort. "What is it, Suoh?" Nokoru asked, swiveling around to face him fully.
"You have a response to your post about Kamui-san."
The blonde boy visibly perked up. "Really? Wonderful!" He swiftly connected the persocon to a monitor, waiting for the message to come up on the screen with a sort of manic glee. "I had expected it to take much longer. This will be helpful for Monou-san, though I will have to find something else to entertain me--"
"Try doing some work for a change." Suoh chastised as he accessed the stored email. Nokoru glanced at him fondly, though the affection was tinged with a distinct sadness. Suoh had seen it before; his creator often regarded him and Akira with an expression that bordered on pain. Suoh had given up asking after having the question blown over several times. It was not in his programming to be overly curious, and though Nokoru never ordered him and Akira to do anything, the final evasion had been as good as a demand to stop asking. Suoh could not press if his enigmatic creator did not want him to.
The accursed fan emerged from one of its several hiding places and flipped out in front of Nokoru's face, hiding the expression while reading "always at work!" Suoh seriously doubted their definitions of "work" meshed, but chose not to argue the point. He turned to look at the email as it came up on the monitor. The mail contained a picture attachment, which downloaded quickly.
Nokoru frowned as he examined the image, Suoh guessed that it was not what he expected and he scrutinized it himself. It was a picture of a woman, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. She was pretty by human standards, with long, brown hair that fell in waves around her thin face. She was dressed in a white laboratory coat, which fit in with the background. The woman was probably a scientist, and the picture had been taken in her research facility. Long tables of technical equipment spread out behind her.
Next to her sat another woman, with the same thin, delicate features, though this one's hair was straight and pitch-black. She also wore a pair of thin framed glasses. Suoh analyzed the similarity in the appearance and concluded that they had to be related.
"Suoh," the blonde's voice was hushed, excitement evident there though it might not show on his contemplative face. "Look there." Pressing a finger to the monitor, Nokoru indicated another presence in the picture.
Against the back wall of the laboratory, held upright on a stand, was a small persocon. Though his eyes were closed and the slackened expression far from the smiling and curious nature Suoh remembered, the resemblance was uncanny.
"It's Kamui-san."
---
The city of Tokyo was much bigger than Kamui had ever dreamed. Street after street spread in front of him, some drifted off to one side, others coursed in front of him, enticing him on under bridges, between rows of stores and office buildings. Kamui spent more time staring up at the massively tall buildings than he did looking for a job.
To the little persocon's credit, he had looked. He had done as Fuuma had asked, and he had a long list of possible places of employment stored in his mind. Once he wandered out of the neighborhood where the Monou Family lived, he had stopped paying attention to the help wanted signs. Fuuma probably wouldn't want him to work too far away.
All around him, the citizens of Tokyo bustled about, taking little to no notice of him unless they wanted to hand him something. A nice person had wanted to give him a packet of tissues, but Kamui had politely declined. Kotori had told him to not take things from strangers.
"Excuse me?"
Kamui turned, looking up in surprise as a well-dressed man approached. He was tall and smiley, his blond hair shining in the pale afternoon sunshine, accented by his dark mauve suit. "Excuse me, but would you be interested in modeling for my company?"
Kamui tilted his head in the man's direction. "Model?" He asked, having very little idea how he could be a model. Such people were women, and human ones at that.
The man nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, model. You see, I have a group of people very interested in persocon design. Yours is one of the best I've seen for your type, and I was hoping you would model for them."
Shaking his head, Kamui started backing away. "Sorry, Kamui need job. No time to model."
"We could pay you for helping us."
That made Kamui pause. "Pay? He asked. Fuuma had told him to wait until the older boy was there to help him choose a job, but this man was offering money now... The faster Kamui could earn his own keep in the Monou family, the better it would be for Fuuma.
And maybe Fuuma would be proud of him for finding work on his own.
"Where Kamui need go?" Kamui asked the man, who simply smiled in response, draping an arm around the persocon's shoulder and ushering him toward one of the side streets.
"Right this way, Kamui-san." He said in a smooth voice. "Just follow me."
---
"Monou-saaaaan!"
Fuuma looked up expectantly as he heard his name being called. Sure enough, a girl with short black hair was running his way, carrying a huge bento box in one hand and a leash in the other. Attached to the leash was the largest dog he'd ever seen. It appeared to be one of those dogs that pulled sleds in Alaska, a husky, and it also seemed to be dragging its mistress down the park pathway.
Waving, Fuuma sidestepped the enthusiastic dog's greeting - namely, trying to jump on him and knock him flat on his back. He gingerly petted the slobbering dog on the head and turned to its gasping owner. "Good afternoon, Yuzuriha-chan." He greeted happily, earning a huge smile in response.
"Good afternoon! I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Papa wanted me to bring Inuki for protection."
Fuuma laughed nervously; so much for the boss trusting him with his teenaged daughter. "Oh? He doesn't look very mean…"
Yuzuriha smiled mischievously. "He can be! Around strangers or perverts, he can be really dangerous!" The impish quality of her smile dissolved as she began to giggle. "But I told him all about Monou-san before we got here. Inuki knows you're a friend."
"I'm glad to hear that, Inuki." Fuuma said, leaning down to pet the dog once again.
Holding out the cloth-wrapped bento box, Yuzuriha bounced a little on the balls of her feet. "Where should we eat?" She asked, scanning the park's grounds for a suitable spot. "OH! There's a nice tree over there!" She cried, running for the shade of a massive oak right in the center of the park.
Fuuma followed, grinning. He'd hardly believed his good luck when Yuzuriha had asked him out for lunch as they were closing the night before. The boss' "little girl" was aggressively cute, and only a few years younger than he; he remembered her mentioning being in her last year of middle school. He would have been a little wary if -she- hadn't been the one to offer. After turning it over and over in his mind, he had decided that he was definitely on a date. Why would a girl make him lunch if she didn't like him -that- way?
By the time he'd caught up, Yuzuriha and Inuki had situated themselves under the sprawling branches of the oak tree. Yuzuriha had started unpacking the lunch. Fuuma couldn't suppress a whistle of admiration at the sheer amount of food she'd made up. One section held rice balls, another had what looked like chicken curry with rice, and still one more contained pickled vegetables. There was probably more than enough to feed three people with what Yuzuriha had brought. Impressive, to say the least.
Yuzuriha giggled, blushing at his whistle, and waved to him. "Come and eat, Monou-san! There's plenty of food!"
"I'll say there is." Fuuma remarked as he plopped down beside her and took the offered chopsticks. "It all looks delicious!" The girl looked immensely happy at his observation, and she waited expectantly as he took a bite of curry. Giving her a "thumbs up" sign, he proceeded to devour his share.
The two ate in relative silence for a few moments, their conversation limited to food quality and offerings of more tea. Fuuma was chewing thoughtfully on a rice ball, contemplating his excellent fortune, when Yuzuriha squeaked. Looking up, he saw her point across the sidewalk at a couple on a bench.
Upon closer observation, Fuuma realized it was a businessman with his persocon. The brown-haired, fairly mild-looking man in glasses rubbed the back of his neck, pleasantly embarrassed, as the female model held out a piece of fish in a pair of chopsticks. She smiled when he took the morsel, chewing appreciatively.
Fuuma felt a nudge in his ribs and realized he'd been caught staring. Though, who could blame him? The persocon had been drop-dead gorgeous, with flame-red hair and a perfect figure. If she'd been real, she would have certainly been a top model, or something equally suited to beauty like that.
As he turned back around, he saw Yuzuriha pouting, arms folded under her breasts. Right. Not the best time to be looking at those. Glancing at her face, he was surprised to find that her attention was not on him, but still on the couple. "Look at them!" She huffed, clearly disapproving. "And in public too…" Curled up by her side, Inuki let out a short half-bark, as if agreeing with his mistress.
Raising an eyebrow, Fuuma resumed his meal, popping the remaining rice ball into his mouth. "It's not a big deal, Yuzuriha-chan." He said around his mouthful of food. "She wasn't sitting in his lap or anything." Though that would have been a sight to see…
The black-haired girl shook her head sadly. "It's not that, Monou-san." She petted her dog idly, turning toward him with a piercing gaze. "Why do men like persocons like that?"
Fuuma stammered, trying to come up with a response that wouldn't get him slapped. "Um.. she's pretty?" No! His inner voice railed against him. Wrong answer!
Instead of becoming irritated, Yuzuriha simply nodded, shoulders slumping. "That's right." She seemed resigned to the fact. "That persocon's prettier than any real girl can be." She said, glumly poking at her food. "How do you compete with perfection?"
On the way home, Fuuma considered Yuzuriha's comments. They'd spent a long time chatting about work, school, and his soccer team; he'd even managed to fully endear himself to Inuki with a rousing game of fetch, but it was clear by the end of the date that the mood was only a shade of what it had been at the beginning.
Personally, Fuuma was stunned that someone as cute and sweet as Yuzuriha had inferiority issues with persocons. After all, they were only computers, and she was a living, breathing person! There was no comparison. Real was better by far.
"Still…"
Even as those thoughts entered his mind, his fingers tingled with the memory of the touch of his own persocon. Sometimes, he had to remind himself that Kamui wasn't a real boy, because his senses were constantly fooled.
In this day and age, it wasn't unheard of to have couples like the ones in the park; he even remembered a news story a year or two ago that had some guy actually marrying one. Fuuma found it hard to believe that you could love a computer that much, but he guessed it was possible. After all, Imonoyama-san had even warned him against such a thing.
The whole issue was very difficult to resolve. He wondered if it would be so hard had he still been without a persocon of his own. Two weeks ago, he would have never considered becoming attracted to one. Sure, some of the female models were downright sexy, but they were machines! Nice packaging, but nothing inside but a program. Programs didn't feel.
Chuckling softly, he let himself in the house. "I should remember that too."
"Fuuma?" His father called from the kitchen. "Is that you?"
Toeing his shoes off, Fuuma poked his head in the door. "Yeah, it's just me."
Father looked up from his newspaper. "Have you seen Kamui?"
Now that was something he didn't need to hear. "Did you look up in my room?"
"He isn't there." Father appeared concerned that his son didn't know where his belongings were. Had he not been feeling the same concern, Fuuma would have snorted. It was hard to keep track of a cute, inquisitive, computer with legs. "He left around noon, after he finished the laundry."
Fuuma's heart skipped a beat. Noon had been five hours ago. Even if Kamui were to get hopelessly, irrevocably lost - something Fuuma doubted was even possible - he would have been back by now. The neighborhood wasn't that big, for crying out loud! With the onset of fall, the sun was setting earlier by the day, and Fuuma didn't want to think about the little persocon wandering around in the dark.
Father frowned. "I think he did something to the washer too. It isn't working right."
Nodding absently, Fuuma headed back out to the foyer, a gnawing urgency growing in his stomach. "I'll go look for him."
So much for not being attached.