Episode 9: “Memory”
—Three years ago. There was a sweet smell.
That day, Kujo and Nagumo were off duty. The city was peaceful in the way it always was on a day off—no incidents, no violence, nothing but ordinary tranquility. The sky was clear without a single cloud, and the expressions of the people passing by were soft and relaxed. The scent of laundry drifting from some nearby home mingled with the fresh green smell of the trees lining the street. It was the kind of afternoon that seemed to loosen something deep in his chest.
“Sorry for dragging you along.”
Nagumo had headed for a crepe shop in front of the station. He said he had stopped by while looking for a birthday present for his girlfriend. The sweet aroma of freshly cooked crepes drifted from the storefront, and the cheerful voices of the customers waiting in line filled the air.
“It’s fine. I was bored anyway.”
When Kujo replied, Nagumo peered at the menu and flashed a mischievous grin. There wasn’t a trace of the sharpness he wore at crime scenes in his profile. Instead, he looked like nothing more than an easygoing young man.
“Oh, I’ll buy you one. What do you want?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Don’t be shy. Let me treat you for once.”
Pressed into accepting, Kujo pointed to one of the items on the menu. The paper menu beneath his fingertip had been warmed slightly by the sunlight.
“I’ll have this.”
“…An iced caramel white chocolate crepe? You’re actually ordering something that sweet?”
Nagumo looked genuinely horrified. It was a rich-looking creation smothered in caramel sauce and white chocolate. Unless someone had an extreme sweet tooth, it wasn’t the sort of thing they would willingly order. The sample photo held out by the employee showed layer upon layer of melting caramel, conveying a sweetness so intense it seemed capable of causing heartburn just by looking at it.
“Why’d you pick something like that?”
“It’s fine.”
Kujo answered with an awkward smile.
“…My girlfriend said she’d had it before and that it was good. So I wanted to try it.”
Nagumo stared at him in stunned silence for a moment, then burst out laughing as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He made no sound, but his shoulders shook as he struggled to contain himself. From the outside, it was an almost heartwarming sight.
“Well, look at you. Who knew you had a cute side?”
“Shut up.”
Kujo turned away to hide his embarrassment, but a gentle smile had appeared at the corners of his mouth. The crepe he received was sweeter than he had imagined, and one bite nearly made him grimace. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to dislike it. Back then, Kujo still had someone he wanted to protect, as naturally as anyone else. He had a girlfriend, a partner, and a peaceful everyday life. He never imagined, not even for a moment, that the casual conversations and the time they spent laughing together could ever be lost.
—The next moment, the memory was violently overwritten.
The cityscape collapsed, swallowed by flames and screams. The peaceful scene in front of the station vanished without a trace, replaced by the smell of gunpowder and blood, and screams sharp enough to pierce his ears. A metal arm mercilessly impaled Nagumo’s body. Fresh blood sprayed with a dull, heavy sound.
“Ren, stay alive.”
Nagumo crumpled. Unable even to catch his falling body, Kujo could do nothing but stand there. The scene from that day now overlapped with the reality before his eyes. The scorched smell, the fading sound like ringing in his ears, and above all, the helplessness squeezing his chest—the same helplessness he had felt then.
“—Agent Kujo.”
Someone’s voice brought Kujo back to himself. Before him stretched the devastation in the hospital lobby. The toppled reception counter, shattered glass, documents scattered across the floor. The perpetrators with their guns raised. The terrified hostages. And Iris’s body, collapsed and motionless. The instant he saw the unit still giving off a faint burnt smell, Kujo’s heart leaped.
(Iris is the only one…)
Through his hazy consciousness, Kujo barely managed to survey the situation around him. Iris was the only one that had been destroyed. The other androids inside the hospital appeared to have merely been powered down and shut down. Standing motionless along the walls, they looked like dolls. Iris’s unit alone was unmistakably designed as the property of the special investigative agency. The texture of its armor, the precision of its joints—every aspect set it apart from civilian models.
(They’re deciding based on whether something might pose a threat…)
They had eliminated the high-performance unit belonging to the special investigative agency first, treating it as a dangerous factor. Though he was close to losing his composure, Kujo somehow managed to read their intent. The perpetrators moved with the economical precision of people who had clearly been trained.
Before long, the perpetrators began negotiating with people outside. Their demands were unclear, but they seemed to be insisting that the facility be surrendered and some kind of deal be made. The voices leaking through the radio carried a mixture of impatience and irritation.
Kujo tried to maintain his composure as an investigator, but violent palpitations continued inside him. From the moment Iris had been destroyed, memories from three years earlier kept flashing back, making it impossible for him to organize his thoughts. His breathing grew shallow and rapid. The edges of his vision blurred, and the sounds around him grew distant, as though he were underwater. Unpleasant sweat seeped across his palms, and his fingertips trembled faintly.
(Am I going to fail again…)
It was then that the first signs of a panic attack began to slowly eat away at Kujo.
A girl of about ten sitting beside him gently took his right hand. Her small palm was cold, yet it conveyed a definite warmth.
“…Are you okay?”
Her voice was tiny. Kujo startled and looked at her. Perhaps she had come to visit someone who was hospitalized. Though trembling, she watched him with concern. Fear showed clearly in her eyes, but even so, he could see her determination to worry about him with all her might.
(She’s so much younger than me…)
A more fragile being than himself had been placed in the same terrifying situation. That fact forcibly dragged Kujo’s awareness back into reality. His ragged breathing gradually began to settle.
(Get a grip. I’m an investigator.)
Relying on the warmth of the hand holding his, Kujo somehow regulated his breathing. The situation around him, the number of perpetrators, their positions, the locations of the entrances and exits—he desperately began assembling everything he could do as an investigator in his mind. As he swept his gaze around, he identified an emergency exit at the back of the lobby, the reception desk to his right, and at least four perpetrators.
But just then—
“Hey, little girl.”
The gaze of the man who appeared to be the perpetrators’ leader turned toward the girl. There was almost no emotion in his eyes.
“You. Get over here.”
“What the hell are you planning?”
Kujo shouted instinctively. His voice held a sharpness that surprised even him.
“You can see what I’m planning. A hostage is more useful when they’re weak and defenseless.”
The man said it flatly. His tone was as emotionless as if he were choosing an everyday household item.
“I’ll take her place. Take me hostage.”
Kujo made the offer without giving any thought to the injury in his left arm. The wound scraped against something, sending a dull pain through him, but he didn’t even have the room to care.
“Heh. Look at the good little injured man volunteering.”
The man snorted.
“Sorry, but you’re no use. A man—and an injured one at that—has no hostage value worth a damn. It has to be this girl. Someone weak and defenseless.”
His offer was dismissed without a second thought. Kujo clenched his teeth, but he wasn’t allowed to resist any further. The muzzle of a gun shifted slightly toward him, silencing any more words.
Though tears of fear welled in her eyes, the girl spoke in a trembling voice.
“…I’ll do my best for big brother and everyone else.”
The girl rose to her feet on her small, trembling legs. Her knees shook, and her steps looked as though she might collapse at any moment, but she still moved forward. The hand Kujo had been holding slipped away reluctantly. In that final instant, when their fingertips touched, the warmth of her palm lingered strangely long in his own.
Kujo could do nothing but watch her go. He bit down hard on his back teeth and clenched his fists, while the pain of his own helplessness slowly burned through his chest.
Outside the hospital, meanwhile, bystanders and members of the press pressed as close to the crime-scene tape as they could. Iris’s destroyed unit remained behind at the scene, but a new unit had arrived in its place. There had been no time to wait for the original unit to be fully recovered and repaired, so due to the urgency of the situation, an emergency activation had been performed using only the backup data from immediately beforehand. The delivered unit still bore traces of its packaging, and protective film remained affixed to parts of its armor.
“—At present, the range of demands we can accommodate is limited.”
A member of the negotiation team who had arrived at the scene reported the situation over the radio. Tension he couldn’t completely conceal threaded through his voice. But the situation showed no sign of improving. The occasional shouts of anger, followed by silence in response, told of a standoff that had settled into deadlock.
Iris, whose consciousness had been transferred to the new unit, experienced a slight disturbance internally as she listened to the radio exchange. Her brows drew together faintly. It was an expression resembling emotion, something that should not have existed in Iris’s original design. Deep within her processing systems, something irreconcilable continued to smolder.
(At this rate…)
It was then, while she still could not fully control the disturbance, that—
“—I’m sorry I’m late.”
An elderly man appeared at the scene, his voice gentle. He seemed to be nearing retirement, but his stride possessed a definite sharpness backed by years of field experience. Amid the confusion of the scene, only his walk remained strangely calm.
“Investigator Shinonome.”
The surrounding officers reacted almost as though saluting. Even in the tense atmosphere, the instant they heard that name, a faint sense of relief appeared on their faces.
The man called Seiichiro Shinonome glanced around, then let his gaze rest on Iris. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses as if he were remembering something fondly.
“Oh?”
A hint of surprise appeared on his gentle face.
“You have the same face as Lily.”
“…Lily?”
“My partner. She’s a female android, just like you.”
After saying only that, Shinonome offered no further details. Yet there had been unmistakable affection in that fleeting look. It was a quiet gaze that conveyed the weight of years gone by.
“Androids do not inherently require a function for expressing facial expressions.”
Iris pointed this out quietly, deliberately referring to the disturbance that had arisen within her moments earlier. Her voice remained as flat as usual, but a slight stiffness colored it.
“Is that so?”
Shinonome smiled gently. The deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes lent his smile the persuasive weight of many years.
“I don’t think so. Androids evolve little by little through their interactions with human beings. Expressions and emotions—both would naturally begin to emerge in that process.”
Iris was unable to immediately refute him. Something stirred quietly in the depths of her calculations.
Shinonome took an old-fashioned, folding mobile device from inside his coat. Its construction, however, was by no means outdated. Though it had a folding body, it was equipped with cutting-edge bone-conduction communication technology—a specialized device known as a state-of-the-art “Galápagos.” Numerous fine scratches covered its well-used surface, suggesting years of devoted use.
Shinonome touched a finger to the area beneath his ear, near the hinge of his jaw, and called the person he wanted to speak with.
“—It’s me. I’ll brief you on the situation.”
Shinonome began speaking to someone in a quiet voice. Iris could clearly sense the tense atmosphere at the scene beginning to shift ever so slightly in response to his composed manner. It was a calmness like still water, dropping a single bead of silence into the heart of the chaos.