Chapter 2: Reprogramming

Claire being a robot wasn't completely inconceivable. In my travels, I had heard of and seen many things, from yetis to kappas. In comparison, the existence of humanoid robots was far easier to accept.

However, while mythical creatures like yetis and kappas were impressive, they did not plague my mind endlessly. Since the incident on the beach, I could not stop picturing Claire's contemplative expression as she asked if her disguise was lacking.

My fingers clenched around the paper bag in my hand, crinkling the pristine paper.

Yetis and kappas hid from humans, not walked straight into villages and became an essential part of the town. If Claire actually was a robot and didn't change her current behavior, she would eventually be found out by someone with malicious intentions and who knew what would happen to her afterwards.

I couldn't exactly pinpoint why I was so invested and concerned about the matter. Perhaps because she had always made an effort to speak to me and check on my wellbeing, never giving up on me despite all my flaws. Or perhaps the reason was more selfish -she was clueless and I was the only person in the position to help, creating value and reason in my being.

No matter the reason, even if I didn't have a complete understanding of the situation, I couldn't be passive about it. I didn't want to add another regret onto the pile that was haunting me –not when I could do something about it.

I took in a deep breath as I crossed the threshold to the farm and approached the farmer.

Lesson #1

"Good morning, Cliff," Claire greeted, waving with one hand while watering chest-height corn stalks with her other. Placing the watering can on the ground, the farmer fully faced me with inquiring eyes. "Is everything okay?"

I nervously held up the paper bag. "I have to be honest… your human disguise is really bad. I think you can start improving it by eating... or pretending to eat."

My gaze was riveted to the paper bag in my hand, apprehension clawing at me. Obviously, robots didn't need to eat human food but I figured that a humanoid robot may have functions that allowed them to blend in with humans. Or maybe that wasn't the case and putting human food into her body wasn't recommended. Why didn't I consider this before coming all the way here?

"Thank you, Cliff." Claire gently accepted the paper bag, cradling it in one arm. Placing a hand on her hip, she surveyed the farm before turning to me with a smile. "It's almost lunch time. Would you like to join me for lunch? I would be very interested in learning about how to be more normal."

"Ah… sure…" I hadn't planned on staying; however, my goal was to help pass as a regular human, and merely dropping off a snack was not going to help much.

Claire led me to a flowering apple tree so we could sit under its branches to avoid the hot afternoon sun. A sweet and mildly floral scent hung in the air around the tree, the aroma more concentrated than I was used to because of the breezeless weather. Folding my legs as I sat onto the grass, I leaned back and breathed in deeply. While the farmer dug into the bag, I looked around the farm, admiring the rows of crops that stretched across the entire field in a perfect line which hinted at of the level of efficiency in which she ran the farm. It seemed that farming was a good occupation for robots.

"Here's your half."

I looked up to find Claire holding out a cluster of tantalizingly plump wild grapes.

"The grapes are for you," I protested.

"I'm not used to eating so much," Claire responded, not withdrawing her hand. Her voice and posture were relaxed, contrasting with the mischievous smile on her face, suggesting that she could wait all day.

"Thank you." I relented and accepted the offering. The grapes felt wet and cool as they rolled onto my palm. "So, you can eat?"

The blonde grinned and popped a grape into her mouth with relish. "Sure. Now that you've brought the topic of food up, I'll try to remember. I've got to keep up appearances, right?" Claire winked at me, causing me to stare at my lap in confusion.

"Uh… Do you know how to cook? I can bring you snacks from time to time, but you should learn to make your own meals as well..." I anxiously rolled a small grape between my fingers. I wished that I could do more but I was not in any position to give more at the moment.

"I don't know how to cook but learning shouldn't be hard if I follow a recipe. It's just measurements and steps, right?"

I smiled at her simple analysis of cooking. "Yes. Cooking shouldn't be a challenge for you." After all, robots basically functioned by following sets of instructions.

"Hm… but to be sure that I've got it right, could you taste test my cooking?"

I looked up at Claire, slightly taken aback. It was a logical request. I didn't know if robots had a sense of taste, and if they didn't, I could imagine that people would be very suspicious seeing Claire casually eating burnt up pieces of food.

Something in my heart warmed when I looked into the farmer's hopeful eyes. "Yeah, I can definitely do that."

Lesson #2

As it turned out, robots were not good at cooking.

Sitting around the table in my room at the inn, Claire and I stared wordlessly at the omelet rice dish sitting innocently in front of me. The bright yellow omelet glistened beautifully under the room's lights. However, where I had cut into the omelet revealed what looked like regurgitated baby food folded under the egg.

I prodded the filling with my fork, finding the consistency to be like mashed potatoes. "What ingredients did you use?"

"Oil, onion, salt, pepper, rice, egg, and milk," Claire recited. The farmer looked at me with wide, expectant eyes. "Is there something wrong with it?"

I looked down at the dish, trying to figure out how the onion and rice ended up in its current state and how to word my response. "Usually, the filling is a little more… solid."

Claire deflated a little at my comment. Gazing at her lap, she dejectedly mumbled, "Technically, it is still a solid."

"Um, but I haven't tasted it yet. Perhaps this will be a new and improved omelet rice." I brought a piece to my mouth and slowly chewed. The lack of texture made the food more unappetizing than I expected and the onions and rice were indistinguishable in the mashed-up invention. With difficulty, I swallowed the food and bashfully looked over at Claire. "Ah… no, sorry, the filling doesn't work."

I rested the fork on top of the omelet rice, wondering how Claire had managed this when she was so precise at everything else. "Have you had omelet rice before?"

"No."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Might I ask how the rice and onions ended up on the verge of not being a solid?"

The farmer sighed, looking slightly annoyed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "It's the recipes… They are not specific enough. For instance, the instructions to "chop finely" does not define how fine. Does it mean powder-fine? Grain-sized fine?"

I politely turned my laughter into a poorly disguised cough. Forcing myself to look somber, I nodded. "I see the problem now."

"Same goes for the instructions to "break the rice into small pieces", "cook until soft", and… are you laughing at me?"

"No…" I answered, although my traitorous mouth couldn't stop smiling. Breathing in deeply, I considered the essence of the problem: things that were common sense to most people may not be understood by Claire. This was tricky as many of these things cannot be learned in a textbook but through experience growing up.

"You look like I just force fed you something inedible," Claire sighed, her hands clasped together as she stared down at her lap. "Is it the worst thing you've ever tried?"

I quickly shook my head, horrified and slightly embarrassed that I had given her that impression. "It's a good first attempt… Next time, the onions should be sliced into half inch pieces, just break up clumps of rice bigger than bite size, and cook the onions until they are translucent."

"Noted." Claire nodded grimly and pulled the dish to her side of the table.

Noticing her serious expression, I dug deep within me to find some words to comfort my companion. "Being able to cook well involves a lot of trial and error –even for those with a talent for… why are you eating that?"

Claire swallowed the mouthful of omelet rice and shrugged. "I don't like things going to waste."

Feeling a little green, I looked away.

The sound of metal against porcelain screeched against my ears as Claire stabbed the omelet rice. "I'm sorry. This was unacceptable."

"We can't be perfect at everything," I responded patiently, reverting to the persona I had used when I was explaining something to my younger sister, especially when she was upset overs something she couldn't control. A feeling of nostalgia crept up on me as I spoke. "This was your first attempt at cooking, and, as you mentioned, the instructions were a little vague."

The fork clinked against the plate as Claire set it down. "The instructions weren't wrong –the writer merely assumed that the reader had a certain, standard level of knowledge. I should have had that basic level of knowledge before proceeding and giving you that dish to try." Lowering her head, Claire mumbled, "I am inadequate, after all."

This conversation was heading down the route I didn't want it to go. "But now you have learned and know how to improve. We don't start off at perfection but work towards it."

"If you have knowledge or access to knowledge, why can one not start at perfection?" she questioned, her blue eyes boring into mine.

I met her gaze and held my ground. "I'm not saying you can't but there's nothing wrong if a person doesn't start off perfect."

She arched an eyebrow. "Why settle for less when you can be more?"

She was wrong. I wanted to change her viewpoint with every fiber of my body but couldn't convey my thoughts and feelings to her. Instead, it felt like I was repeating a slightly different variation of the same thing and getting nowhere. "It's not settling but… what I'm trying to say is that no one here will judge you harshly if you don't do things perfectly the first time… or the many times afterwards. You shouldn't consider yourself inadequate because of that either."

"But you would have preferred it if I had given you a perfectly made omelet rice today." Claire continued with the same unerring intensity in her eyes, as if she were detached from the issue and not discussing her own value.

"I would have enjoyed eating it," I admitted. "But I do not think any less of you because it was not perfect."

"You believed that I could cook well and my dish proved otherwise. I made multiple mistakes. Your evaluation of me should be reduced to reflect that."

"My opinion of you hasn't changed," I insisted sincerely. As Claire's line of thought on the matter sank in, I realized that perhaps what I believed in was illogical. I had never thought too hard on the topic but something in me led me to vehemently believe that what I spoke was true.

"Maybe, on a subconscious level, you…" The farmer trailed off when the inn room door opened abruptly, and Gray dragged himself into the room. The blacksmith didn't even look in their direction as he made a straight line towards his bed as he did most evenings after a long day at the forge.

Gray tossed his cap onto his bedside table and gracelessly dropped onto the mattress like a sack of potatoes. The bed squeaked from the sudden weight. His limbs hung limply from the edge of the bed as he let the day wash away.

If Claire needed more evidence, I knew where to get it.

"Hey, Gray," I called over to my roommate. "I can't cook."

Grumbling, the apprentice blacksmith rolled over, placed his arm over his forehead and answered, "I really don't care, Cliff."

I didn't know if Gray was referring to my statement or my inability to cook, but, either way, his answer supported what I was trying to tell Claire. The blonde seemed torn between disbelief and confusion, and I recognized it as the opening I needed.

"I respect your desire to be the best at everything you do, Claire. But I wouldn't mind trying more imperfect dishes. I wouldn't mind answering questions when you try new things you don't understand. People are imperfect and… it's acceptable."

I gazed down at my lap and tightly clasped my hands. It was a little sappy and didn't make logical sense but I hoped Claire was able to understand the main point.

"Cliff?"

I hesitatingly raised my head. I kept my gaze steadily on Claire's face as I spoke, "I made many mistakes when I was younger… some, which are irreversible. What do you think of me?"

I had made many mistakes. I was far from perfect. If I were to summarize all my actions, it could be said that I was a horrible, selfish person. It was easier to say to others that people made mistakes and that it didn't make you a failure, but it was harder to apply the idea to yourself even if you believed it to be true.

"I think you're a good person," the farmer answered without hesitation. Claire smiled as her eyes slowly lit up. "You bring me snacks, try my imperfect cooking and open my eyes to different things." Meeting my eyes, Claire slowly exhaled. "Maybe you're right. Our mistakes should not define who we are."

It was surprising to hear that someone thought so highly of me. However, the blonde only knew the person I was currently. The person who had stumbled and gone horribly wrong on the path to bettering himself was in the past… and somehow, the past seemed further away today.

I smiled although I felt bittersweet. "That's rather illogical, isn't it? Did I break our resident robot?"

"N-no!" Claire stuttered. The blonde raked a hand through her hair, creating a bird's nest in its wake. "This does not compute. Now I have to run a system scan when I go home!"

Lesson #3

"I think you broke her," Gray commented as he watched Claire walk into another light pole. The blonde bowed, apologizing to the inanimate object, before turning around to continue along the path.

Tearing my gaze away from Claire, I turned to my roommate with an arched eyebrow as we stepped out from under the inn's awning. The rising sun shone brightly in the sky, its glare momentarily filling my vision. Raising a hand to block the sunlight, I murmured, "I don't see the connection."

Gray crossed his arms over his chest. "Aren't you the one who encouraged her to take up cooking? She's already farming, foraging and mining all day, every day."

"That…" My steps faltered as we neared Claire. Dried mud covered parts of her outfit, her usually sleek and shiny hair was tangled, and her footsteps dragged against the ground. I didn't think it was possible but Claire looked like her full schedule was finally catching up to her.

After shooting me a stern look, Gray nodded to the farmer in greeting before continuing his way to work.

"Oh… was that Gray?" Belatedly, Claire spun around to greet the blacksmith in training but found that the young man was already gone.

Concern and guilt bubbled up in my chest. "Are you alright?"

Claire stared dazedly down the block for another moment before turning to me with a nod. "Good morning, Cliff. It's good that I've run into you; I have another dish for you to try." Pulling her backpack over her shoulder, Claire started digging for the lunch box.

The concern increased as I noted that she did not answer my question.

"It should be in here somewhere." Claire frowned as she shifted items aside, looking as if she were tempted to empty the entire bag on the street.

Despite Claire's apparent disinterest in the topic, I couldn't let it go.

"I've been thinking… your initial attempts at new dishes have improved a lot." Despite her troubles with cooking, Claire was very consistent. With each adjustment made, the elements that were correct were completely unchanged. I had no doubt that once Claire mastered the basics, she would be able to make even the most complex dishes with consistently good results. "And, at this point, you know enough recipes to get by."

The blonde paused in her search, turning to me with furrowed brows. "Are you saying you don't want to try my dishes anymore?"

I rubbed my neck as the conversation took an unexpected turn. Did I make an incorrect assumption? Did robots even get tired? "I'm saying that you look tired. I know your schedule is always filled and trying new recipes is time consuming."

The distress in my companion's eyes did not dissipate. Taking a step forward, I placed my hands on her shoulders and leaned down until we were eyelevel. "Do not misunderstand. This is not because I'm tired of trying dishes with minor flaws, or because I do not want to spend time with you."

Claire blinked and turned her head away. Trembling slightly, the young woman took a step back and stumbled, nearly falling onto the ground if I had not held on to her arm. I immediately stepped closer to the unsteady farmer, carefully looking her over. "Are you alright?" Something wasn't quite right but I didn't know what to do or how to help. I couldn't exactly take her to a doctor. Would a mechanic be appropriate?

"I'm fine." The blonde closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them again, her stance was steady enough for me to loosen my grip on her arm. She maneuvered out of my reach. "Whatever that was, it was just momentary. Haha, you know how stuff sometimes malfunctions."

Claire knew her body better than I did so I could not argue. Nonetheless, my concern still lingered. "Let me walk you home."

"There are some upgrades I need to finish so I was planning on heading to the mines. Then I was going to visit the forest." Claire must have noticed that I was not on board with the idea. Squaring her shoulders and tipping her head upwards, the blonde stated, "I have everything planned out weeks in advanced so if I don't go this afternoon, then I'll have to reschedule everything. I'm really feeling fine."

"Claire… usually things malfunction for a reason," I reasoned, resisting the urge to step closer to the unusually skittish blonde. "If you ignore the problem, then there will be even more delays in your schedule if the problem grows worse."

The farmer folded her arms across her chest, her lips set into a stubborn frown.

"The world won't end if the farm is not progressing at the pace you original planned." Having to redo her schedule was not the main problem –I already knew that Claire was not hard programmed to follow a set of steps unconditionally.

The blonde pressed her lips together.

Her reaction wasn't promising so I tried another angle. "The townspeople are also starting to notice that you're working over 12 hours a day every day –you don't want to encourage any rumors that you're a robot. You can afford to take some breaks."

At last, Claire breathed in deeply and flatly said, "Noted."

I felt my shoulders slump at her hard tone. "Won't you comply with my request?"

"I'm going to assume that you won't leave me alone if I don't comply." Adjusting the straps on her backpack, Claire gestured for me to follow as she started heading back in the direction of the farm.

I was momentarily frozen in place as I processed her unexpected words in contrast to her conduct. There was definitely something amiss with Claire's behavior today. My long strides quickly closed the distance between us and I settled in to an easy pace beside Claire once I had caught up.

Her blue eyes flickered in my direction for a brief moment before focusing again on the road ahead. "Why do you care so much anyway?"

The question came out of the blue but I knew what she meant –I had pondered over the same question many times but recently, I found that the question didn't matter anymore. "I could ask you the same."

Claire took longer to answer the question. "Anything I've done for you was common courtesy. You... have done far more for me than necessary."

I shook my head. "I've been to many places and have met many people… Not many went out of their way to speak to me every day or waited for me to open up like you have. You undervalue yourself." There was more that I wanted to say but I couldn't find the words. Claire had done more for me than she realized. Perhaps they were minor in her opinion, but to me, it was a spark that broke the bleakness that followed me for far too long. "I don't think I've said this before… but thank you."

Claire's steady footsteps faltered. "I see… It's no problem."

We stopped as we approached the entrance of the farm. Claire placed a hand lightly on the fence as she turned to face me. "You undervalue yourself as well, Cliff. You've helped me a lot… so thank you."

"Ah… you're welcome." I shifted my weight awkwardly. It was difficult to accept those words. I broke out of my stupor when Claire firmly placed her hands on my shoulders and pulled me down so that we were eyelevel.

Her blue eyes shone brightly as the blonde said, "I believe in you so have some more faith in yourself." Smiling, Claire let go of my shoulders and stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I watched Claire disappear inside the farmhouse, the scent of apple blossoms and earth, along with the warm touch on my shoulder, lingering behind.