Mirroring Over a Mocha Bun
I ran toward the observation room. "Hello~" I called out cheerfully, setting down the things I'd brought. Calling it "luggage" was a bit of a stretch—it was just some bread and milk I'd grabbed from the convenience store a moment ago, along with a book I'd borrowed from the library.
I picked up the microphone and moved around, organizing my paperwork. Perhaps the rustling of paper and the sound of my voice had reached the test subject, because the girl, who had been lying in bed, rubbed her eyes and sat up.
Day two, begin. Holding the documents, I sat in my chair and began observing her. She sat there blankly for a moment before turning her gaze to me. Her reaction was definitely different from usual. Watching her, I began checking off items on the evaluation sheet.
"Can you say something?" I spoke into the mic, but once again, there was no answer. It felt like talking to a brick wall. It didn't particularly bother me at this point, but her unusual behavior—the distinct feeling that she was fully aware of me—made me hesitate.
Keeping my eyes on her, I set the microphone down and pulled the bread and milk out of the convenience store bag. The sweet, rich aroma of a large mocha bun wafted through the air. Holding the hefty pastry made my mouth water. It was so massive that, with only a slight exaggeration, it looked bigger than my own head.
I opened my mouth wide and took a big bite. The sweet flavor and rich aroma exploded in my mouth, and I chewed happily before swallowing. The girl was still staring at me. I stopped chewing, reached out, and picked up the microphone. "Do you want some too?" It was a purely impulsive question. Perhaps because it was such an unusual question, the girl slowly nodded her head.
Staring at her in a daze, I quickly asked again. "You want to eat this?" I waved the half-eaten bun left and right. As if to prove my eyes hadn't played tricks on me, she nodded once more. She didn't speak, but it was a clear expression of her will. Her eyes drifted away from me and locked onto the half-eaten mocha bun in my hand.
I pressed the small call button on the desk. A series of beeps rang out. A moment later, Lamonax entered the test subject's room. Through the thick glass wall, the two girls and Lamonax faced one another. The test subject didn't even spare a glance at the suddenly arriving Lamonax. Her eyes remained fixed solely on me and the bread.
Treated like a ghost, Lamonax scratched his cheek. "Do you know why I called you?" I asked him. He nodded in response. "I have a rough idea. She's definitely showing a different reaction than usual. But what's the exact reason?"
"She said she wants some bread," I said, waving the bun in my hand. Crumbs of the mocha bun scattered onto the floor. "A mocha bun, specifically."
"You want me to go buy one?"
"Obviously. I can't leave this room except during lunch and when it's time to go home."
"Ah..." Letting out a small, annoyed sigh, Lamonax nodded and left the room. He complained, but he was the type to do almost anything you asked of him.
"If you wait, you'll get to eat some." This time, she didn't even nod. She just sat there blankly. After a short while, Lamonax returned with a massive mocha bun and handed it to the test subject. Seeing that he'd thoughtfully bought milk as well, it seemed even Lamonax cared about the girl deep down.
Lamonax set the milk and the mocha bun down in front of the test subject. Even then, she didn't react. "Go ahead, eat," I told her. The nameless test subject picked up the mocha bun. It was the first time I had ever seen her eat anything.
Clutching the large mocha bun in both hands, she looked up at me. In response, I set the microphone down and picked up my own mocha bun. Mirroring her, I opened my mouth wide and took a bite. Perhaps because she was following my lead, the girl did the exact same thing. She opened her mouth wide and bit into the bun.
Her eyes widened, seemingly delighted by the rich flavor filling her mouth. Her jaws didn't stop. Chomp, chomp, chomp. She devoured the mocha bun so eagerly that I could practically hear the sounds of her chewing and swallowing.
Watching her eat, I picked up my carton of milk and took a swig. The girl watched me closely, then picked up her own milk and began to drink just like I did. It was a surprisingly decent breakfast. Savoring the lingering taste of the mocha bun, I asked her, "Is it good?" As expected, there was no reply.
Having finished watching her eat, Lamonax slipped out of the room. Once she had finished her bun, the girl went back to staring blankly at me to pass the time. I locked eyes with her and tried to engage in a staring contest. I lost. There was something deeply unsettling about the way she stared without even blinking.
I carefully averted my gaze and opened the book I'd borrowed from the library. I spent a long time reading. Feeling the texture of the paper beneath my fingertips, I finally closed the last page. Having been so absorbed in the book, I raised my head to check on the girl. She was still staring at me.
The contents of my report underwent a slight change. Though she still didn't speak, clear communication was now possible. She had expressed what she wanted and seemed highly satisfied when she got it. Furthermore, she responded to my voice. This was more than enough useful material for today's entry.
My crooked handwriting caught my eye. The empty space on the document began to ignite my artistic soul. It was purely impulsive. An action I normally wouldn't have even considered slipped out naturally. In the corner of the paper, I drew a little pig and gave it Dr. Hebrum's exact hairstyle. Anyone looking at it would immediately recognize him. I drew the pig's expressionless mouth curving upward into a wide grin. The pig, sporting a bizarre, creepy smile, was a dead ringer for Dr. Hebrum. I felt quite satisfied with my work.
Beep, beep, beep. The alarm announcing lunchtime rang out, but I didn't get up. Thanks to the massive mocha bun I'd eaten earlier, I wasn't hungry. Lunchtime was a break. Glancing briefly at the girl, I reclined my chair so I could lie down. Sometimes, I skipped lunch like this to take a nap.
My small, girlish frame made the reclined chair—which used to feel incredibly cramped—feel spacious. Even when I tossed and turned, my limbs didn't bump against the armrests. Closing my eyes, I used my lab coat as a blanket and drifted off to sleep.
"Ue-eueb-eh..." I let out a bizarre, groggy sound as I woke up. The faint, blurry remnants of a dream still lingered before my eyes. Startled by the weird noise I'd just made, I patted my cheek. I felt a wet patch of drool. A damp spot of saliva had also spread across the headrest of the chair.
I scrambled up, pulled a wet wipe from the dispenser on the desk, and wiped down my face and the chair. I balled up the dirty wipe and tossed it toward the trash can. But with my shortened arms and weakened strength, my aim was completely off. Sighing at the wet wipe that had landed squarely on the floor, I walked over, picked it up, and threw it in the trash myself. Times like this made me deeply envious of telekinesis.
As I thought that, I felt an intense gaze burning into my back and spun around. Through the glass wall, the girl was staring at me with wide eyes. Glancing slightly to the side, I realized the microphone was still switched on. She had definitely heard the bizarre, embarrassing noise I'd made when I woke up. I felt incredibly embarrassed.
In the past, I wouldn't have cared in the slightest. But perhaps because her behavior had changed, my perception of her had shifted too. Before I knew it, I was starting to view the test subject as an actual person.
"Did you see that?" She didn't answer. "Did you hear that?" Still no answer. She simply nodded. I raised my hands and covered my face. My tiny hands couldn't hide my entire face, but they were enough to cover my burning cheeks. "This is so embarrassing," I muttered defensively, slinking back to my chair.
I reached out and switched off the microphone. The sound cut out. Now, the girl on the other side of the glass would no longer be able to hear my voice. Day two. There had been a significant shift. The clock on the wall indicated it was finally time to go home.
I stood up, gathered my things, and switched the microphone back on. "I'm leaving." It was my usual sign-off. Bye, take care, I'm going, see you tomorrow. I had tried all sorts of variations, hoping she might react to one of them. Suddenly, the girl, who usually never showed any reaction, bolted upright. Startled, I fell back into my chair. But she didn't speak. She merely reached out and pressed her hands against the glass wall. It was a highly unusual reaction.
I turned off the microphone and left the room. Before heading back to the staff quarters, I had to drop off my report at Dr. Hebrum's lab. Once that was done, my workday would be officially over. Dr. Hebrum's brightly lit laboratory was always filled with delicious aromas. Everyone knew he had to keep eating constantly to maintain his massive physique. However, Dr. Hebrum was nowhere to be seen. Given the faint scent of pastries lingering in the air, he must have been here just moments ago.
I placed today's report on Dr. Hebrum's desk and left the lab. My footsteps were light now that I was off the clock. The book clutched in my arms threatened to slip out, but I squeezed it tight. Back in my room, I tossed the book onto the desk and changed into something more comfortable.
Outside the facility, it was freezing winter, but the interior was kept at a constant temperature, so I threw on a T-shirt and shorts. Over that, I threw my lab coat back on and slipped my employee ID lanyard around my neck. Leaving my quarters, I headed straight for the convenience store. I gathered an armful of beer cans and walked up to the counter.
The clerk behind the counter looked at me, then down at the beer cans. He had a look of deep, agonizing conflict on his face. "Hurry up and ring me up, please." My neck ached from having to look up at him due to my short stature. With awkward, hesitant movements, he scanned the beer. Once the transaction was complete, I left the convenience store and headed straight back to my room. I was just really craving beer tonight. I didn't bother buying any snacks, since I still had the leftovers of what Lamonax had bought yesterday.
Swinging the plastic bag full of beer cans, I walked down the hall only to find Lamonax standing right in front of my door. "Welcome back," he said. He strolled over naturally and took the bag of beer from my hand, leaving me standing there with my mouth agape. "Who said you could just drop by?" I asked. Lamonax shook the convenience store bag and replied, "Were you really planning on drinking all of this by yourself?"
I glared at his long legs. I desperately wanted to sweep them out from under him and send him crashing to the floor. But what could I do? He was only here because of work anyway. Letting out a soft sigh, I allowed him inside. "Come on in." In the end, I was spending another evening with Lamonax.
"Are you skipping dinner again?" "That's why I bought the beer." Lamonax naturally began stocking the beer in my fridge. On the living room floor, the snacks he'd bought yesterday were still sitting in their plastic bag, barely touched. "You didn't finish these?" "Do I look like Hebrum to you?" I grabbed a cold can of beer from the fridge and sat down in front of my computer. Since I'd told my friends I was going on a week-long trip, I couldn't log into any of my usual gaming accounts.