005. Cat on the Rooftop (4)
005. Cat on the Rooftop (4)
I stopped by the unusual fish-shaped pastry shop <Fish & Ppangs> and bought an <Assorted Fish Set>.
It was the middle of the night when I returned to base.
Upon returning, I headed straight for Room 201 of the barracks building—Laika's personal quarters. I wanted to ask her properly while I had the chance.
Whether she knew she was slated for disposal.
If she knew, what on earth she was thinking, living the way she was now.
What had happened with her first Commander.
I had to ask.
I knocked on the door of Room 201.
No answer came, no matter how long I waited.
Suddenly I remembered that Laika had injured her hand during the earlier battle. Could her condition have worsened considerably?
Worried, I gently tried the doorknob. It wasn't locked.
"Laika? Can I come in for a moment?"
Amid the silence, I carefully opened the door. Laika wasn't there. All I saw was an empty room.
......No, it wasn't truly empty. It had a shabby bed, a desk, a chair, and a wardrobe—all properly in place.
But how should I put it? It felt as though only the bare essentials needed to make it a 'room' had been mechanically arranged.
What was missing were any objects that carried the traces of Laika's personal life.
For instance, even through the half-open wardrobe I couldn't see anything that could be called a girl's clothes. There was only one stiff uniform.
On the bed and the chair, nothing was placed except cushions and a blanket.
What was especially strange was the desk. Nothing was placed atop the desk.
The drawer I opened just in case—— was eerily spotless and empty.
It looked like a staged room in a furniture showroom.
A fake room where no one lived, made only to look as though someone did.
It didn't seem likely that she'd deliberately decorated her room around such a bizarre theme.
Rather...... how should I put it. It looked like the result of a pathological avoidance.
An aversion to making anything her own—anything precious to her.
"......She's not an easy one."
Muttering that, I set the bungeoppang set down in front of the door.
Perhaps it was because my gaze had turned downward in the process.
Suddenly, something I hadn't seen before caught my eye.
A glint of metal beneath the bed.
I approached and picked it up.
......It was a military ID tag.
The surface was covered in scratch marks, and the edges were worn down.
Traces that spoke of someone's touch over a long period.
And the name engraved on it.
[Seo Se-rin 098817-03]
The first two digits, 09, indicated female.
The following 88 meant supplementary commissioned officer, without going through the Academy or examinations.
Then 17 was a unique code.
And the last two digits were the serial number. 03, the same as mine.
If so, this person was surely——
"Commander."
Laika's voice rang out from behind me.
I'd thought it was my imagination, but it wasn't. When I turned to look, Laika had already entered the room and was standing facing me.
An expressionless face, uncharacteristic of Laika.
Flustered, I slipped the ID tag into my pocket and changed the subject.
"Laika, where did you go at this hour?"
"The maintenance room. Self-repair."
Laika raised her right hand to show me. It was the hand that had gotten wrecked earlier while beating up a Legion. It was now properly repaired.
My relief was brief. Laika asked an unexpected question.
"More importantly, Commander, what business brought you to Laika's room?"
Hm.
"Well...... I guess I came to bring you some bread."
"Is that all?"
Laika asked, her gaze clearly fixed on my pocket.
It seemed I'd been caught.
After hesitating a moment, I took out the ID tag and handed it to Laika.
Of course, I didn't forget to apologize.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have looked at it without asking."
"It's nothing. It's not a big deal."
Laika said that, but she received the ID tag carefully with both hands and placed it inside the desk drawer.
And because she did that.
Even so, I couldn't help asking.
"Is it from your first Commander?"
"Huh?"
"That ID tag."
Laika answered after a brief pause.
"......Yeah."
After another brief pause, I asked.
"The fact that you're holding onto it, that means......."
"Yeah."
Laika gave me a faint smile, as if she felt sorry for me struggling to get the words out, then quietly added.
"She's gone now. Killed on a mission."
I wasn't surprised. I'd guessed as much to some extent.
But what Laika said next was genuinely unexpected.
"It was because of Laika."
I looked down at her quietly and asked.
"......Because of you?"
"Yeah. Because I screwed up, she died."
Laika continued, her gaze fixed on the ID tag. Her voice sounded as if all emotion had been worn away.
"It was a mission to recon a strongpoint and return. We'd almost finished and only had to head back, but then we were ambushed and my commander was badly wounded.
"After that, there was no way the two of us could make it back together......."
I came back alone, she said.
Laika finished in a voice barely audible.
A moment later, she let out an Euhye and smiled the same way she did while lazing around on the rooftop.
"After that... how should I put it? Whenever an ally gets even a little hurt, I get really scared... it hurts so much that before I know it, I start acting violently.
"It happened because I wasn't good enough... I get angry at myself for being too weak, and then I take it out on something else."
"Then your actions during the recon operation today were also......."
"Yeah. The Commander got hurt again. So I got angry and did it."
Laika chattered.
"It's ridiculous, right? More than that, doesn't it make you uncomfortable? You weren't even hurt that badly. And you and I only met yesterday.
"But even so, even so... I just couldn't stand what was happening......."
Laika trailed off.
A moment later, Laika smiled with an Euhye~, as if trying to lighten the mood.
With that smile, Laika brightly offered her advice.
"I think it'd be best for the Commander to file a return request quickly, too."
"......What?"
Dumbfounded, I asked.
How on earth did Laika interpret the meaning of that question? As if she could see right through my inner thoughts, she started chattering away, spouting complete nonsense.
"You were probably deciding whether to return me, right? So you were going to watch me a little longer?
"But I'm saying you don't need to. As you can see, I'm complete junk. I'm useless and only cause trouble.
"It'd be more efficient to file the return request now and get a biodroid who's at least a little better."
So that was it.
So that's how it was.
Then there was nothing for it.
"Fine. I'll return you."
"Euhye, thanks for understanding——"
"......as if I could just let it slide like that, you idiot."
"Eugyak."
Laika let out a stupid sound.
The reason was that I'd pinched her cheeks.
Not just one side. Using both hands, I grabbed her cheeks firmly, left and right.
Then I stretched Laika's cheeks like a piece of sticky rice cake—or an accordion—and pressed them back in again.
Each time, Laika made a sound that was hard to classify as either cute or stupid.
"Eugit. Euhet. Euhing."
At the same time, she flailed her arms and legs. As if she couldn't possibly escape. Even though she was actually dozens of times stronger than me.
She was trying to cute her way out of the conversation.
She was trying to dodge it again.
Totally sick of it, I let go of Laika's cheeks.
Instead, I asked in the coldest voice I could manage.
"Laika, you've been returned ten times already. If you're returned one more time, there's no avoiding disposal. Do you know what happens when they dispose of you?"
"Ah, I know that."
Laika answered simply after a brief pause.
"......I die, right?"
She said it as though that much was something she could accept.
But I needed to make one thing clear. The reality was worse than that.
"Your brain might simply die. Your body won't even get that much. The manufacturer will reclaim it, dismantle it piece by piece, and use the parts to build new biodroids. Are you really fine with that?"
"......Eu, euhye......."
Laika couldn't answer.
So I changed the question to one Laika couldn't avoid answering.
"Fine. Let's say you're okay with it. Then what about the person who was your commander? If your memories disappear and you yourself disappear, who will remember her? The military? Dozens or even hundreds of commanders die every day."
Laika couldn't answer.
So I decided to answer for her.
"She'll be forgotten. No one will remember her. Are you okay with that too?"
Laika's eyes wavered violently.
A moment later, Laika answered tentatively, as if this had nothing to do with her.
"That might...... not be fine, maybe."
Even that hesitant way of speaking made me glad, because it contained her own will.
Until now, Laika had lacked even that much: a will of her own that said what she thought or wanted.
So, I decided to start from exactly that answer.
It was what I called Laika's Three-Step Syllogism.
First, step one.
"If it's not fine, then that means you don't want to die after all. Yes or no."
"......Well, I guess you could say that's right, maybe."
Next, step two.
"If you don't want to die, what are you supposed to say to the person who could return you and have you disposed of?"
"......Please spare me, or something?"
Finishing with step three.
"Right. But you should add 'I beg you,' shouldn't you? If you really want to live that badly."
"......Please spare me? I, I beg you?"
Good.
I gave a thumbs-up and replied.
"If you go that far, I've got no choice. I'll spare you."
At that, Laika smiled faintly for some reason.
"Um...... I'm really, really grateful for the words, but does it even mean anything for just the two of us to be talking about sparing or not? Isn't Laika scheduled for automatic disposal three months from now even if the Commander doesn't file a return request?"
"It's not automatic."
All she had to do was accumulate 100 mission performance points.
"Isn't that practically automatic? Laika can't go out on missions like this."
"Then you just have to change."
"That's not as easy as it sounds, you know....... Actually, I tried to fix it several times before and failed......."
"You tried before?"
Laika nodded.
"Yeah. I tried to fix it on my own, too. Because I wanted to get better."
Psychological counseling. Repeated trauma-treatment training.
She had tried every other kind of effort she could think of, too.
But in the end, Laika couldn't resolve the problem.
On the surface, it seemed fixed, but the moment she went out on a mission, Laika invariably went berserk again.
Eventually, the Commanders who got fed up returned Laika again, and each time, the defeatism in Laika's heart only grew.
I wasn't particularly surprised. It was an all-too-natural outcome.
No one started out running away.
Escapism was born from a hopeless reality, and defeatism was forged through defeat.
Nor did I despair. Rather, I was relieved.
The story Laika had just told me had given me the beginnings of an answer, however hazy.
"Your perception of the problem is wrong."
"Euhye?"
At my sudden observation, Laika tilted her head. As if asking what I suddenly meant.
"From what you've told me, you've decided that your tendency to go berserk comes entirely from your unhappy past and your short temper, right?"
She'd labeled that as the problem and focused only on how to keep herself from going berserk.
When I pointed that out, Laika answered uncertainly.
"I did, but......? Is that wrong?"
"It's wrong."
More importantly, it was completely backward.
"......Why?"
The reason was simple. The rampages Laika experienced weren't actually the underlying problem that needed to be solved.
Rather, I thought of it as an intended 'ability'.
In that sense, Laika's real problem lay in her failure to correctly recognize her own ability.
"What do you mean? An ability?"
Laika asked as if she couldn't understand.
I answered with a bitter smile.
"If you want to know, rest well tonight and come to the precision analysis room tomorrow morning."
"The precision analysis room?"
Laika asked again after a brief pause.
"If I go there, will you tell me? The Commander's idea of...... Laika's real problem?"
"Of course."
And that wasn't all. I also intended to tell her how to solve the real problem.
Laika still gave me a suspicious look.
Surely, it was because she remembered the previous Commanders.
She was remembering them, and was afraid.
Afraid that once again someone would spin a plausible story, get her hopes up, and then toss her aside.
But they and I were different.
We had to be different.
"Let me tell you this now. I'm badly out of favor with the military. Even if I returned you, they wouldn't issue me another biodroid. So I don't have any alternative to you. No matter what happens, I'm keeping you alive—and I'm going to put you to work."
At that, Laika's stiffened cheeks suddenly relaxed.
Then she looked smug, as if she'd instantly spotted the poison-pill clause I'd tried to hide.
Laika poked my palm with a fingertip and pressed me for an answer.
"Commander, aren't you trying to sneak this into a setup where you get Laika to work for free? You shouldn't exploit a girl's painful past and psychological vulnerabilities like that, you know?"
"......I'm not exploiting you. I'm saying I'll help you. Besides, you're supposed to follow your commander's orders without charging him."
"Hmm. When you put it that way, maybe you're right."
I wondered which part she agreed with—the statement that I'd help, or the statement that a Commander's orders were meant to be followed.
Without clarifying, Laika clasped my hand.
"Well, I don't have anything else to do anyway...... For the Commander's sake, maybe Laika will go along with it for a while~ Just as a trial run~"
I made a mental note to someday fix that inability of hers to be honest with herself.