"Pondaru." I felt a hand on my shoulder. A gentle shake. "Honey, wake up! Your hot chocolate's getting cold!"
I jerked upright, the world lurching with me. "H—huh?" My mouth felt thick, my tongue slow, like it hadn't been switched on yet.
The desk swam into focus in pieces. Stacks of bills sat off to the side, too neat, too deliberate. Right in front of me, a sheet of notepaper clung to the desk, damp. A thin string of drool stretched from my chin before breaking and spotting the page—numbers, months, all smeared together.
For a moment, I just blinked, trying to remember what exactly was going on.
"You're so silly, Pondaru," she giggled.
I turned toward the voice, the sound hitting the back of my head before my thoughts could catch up.
"M-mm… Mom?"
"Who else would I be?" she laughed, tilting her head like she'd just thought of the silliest thing in the world. "Geez, Pondaru, you're getting old, huh? Soon you'll be complaining about backaches and early bird specials!"
"Mom—mom—" I pushed myself up too fast. The familiar lightheaded rush hit me immediately, my vision dimming at the edges. I stumbled forward and caught myself on her legs, gripping her like my life depended on it.
"Momma…"
"Whoa—hey." She steadied me without hesitation. "What's gotten into you today, Pondaru? I didn't know you were that tired. I wouldn't have woken you up like that—sorry, sweetie."
"No— I'm sorry," I mumbled, my forehead pressed against her torso. "I just… had a really bad dream."
"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, mischief sparkling. She lifted a finger, as if she'd invented something brilliant.
She placed her hand gently on my head. "I know what might help," she said softly. "Do you want to rest your head on Mommy's lap? Maybe it'll chase the nightmares away… just like before." A small, warm smile tugged at her lips, recalling the memory.
"I… I never did that!" I stammered, heat rising to my face, even though I had, back when I was little—I just couldn't bring myself to admit it.
"Worth a shot," she said, before lightly bumping her fist against her head with a teasing smile. "Anyway, I made you and your sister some hot cocoa. Here, son." She pressed the mug gently into my hands, warm against my palms.
"Sister… w-where is she?" I muttered, taking the mug.
"Did you hit your head on a rock or something…?" she squinted at me. "She's in her room, being all mysterious as usual. Don't tell me you forgot her already too—heehee."
"No… I didn't…" I whispered, my voice catching as I set the mug down. My chest tightened, a hollow ache settling in my stomach. "I need to see her," I said, finally standing.
"You're already done playing with Mommy…?" she pouted.
"No… it's not that," I replied quickly. "I just… I need to ask her something."
"I'm just teasing, Pondaru," she said, wagging a finger at me, eyes twinkling. "You know I'd follow you anywhere… if only I weren't so hopeless at running errands and cooking and… everything, heh."
I gave her a soft smile. "Don't say that. You're definitely a big help, Mom."
Her grin softened, a flicker of something deeper shining in her eyes. "I know I can't do much… but thank you for taking care of us, Pondaru. Really… it means the world. You're my strong boy."
She gave a playful wink, then slumped backwards onto my bed with exaggerated exhaustion. "But don't worry—Mom's still adorable and charming," she added, clearly pleased with herself.
"I… y-yeah," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "You're right," I said, a small, awkward laugh slipping out.
"Mm-hmm, of course I'm right." She lifted her chin, nose tipping toward the ceiling like she'd just won an argument. "Now go on—go see your sister. She's probably been waiting very patiently for you to talk to her ever since you got home."
I turned and left the room.
The hallway felt longer than it should have, stretched thin like the space between breaths. Her door was already open—crooked on its hinges—and through the gap I saw the flicker of a rerun episode of Anno Star Prisma playing on her TV. The familiar theme music hit me in the chest before I even stepped inside.
She noticed me instantly.
"B-Big brother… you're finally awake? She paused the show and hurried toward me, her steps light and quick. "I thought you'd be stuck in all those papers instead of coming to play with me, like usual."
Her voice—
God, her voice—
It washed over me like a blessing I didn't deserve. Warm. Bright. Alive. The sound alone made my chest ache.
Before I could stop myself, I reached out, hands shaking, and cupped her face, squeezing her cheeks like I was afraid she might disappear if I let go.
"P-mmm—Pond-ee-ruu!" she protested, words muffled. "W-what the heck are you doing?! It's all… too sudden!"
I didn't answer. I just held on, fingers trembling, my vision blurring as I searched her face—every detail, every freckle—desperate to prove she was real.
"A-are you… crying?" Her voice softened.
"N-no," I said too fast, my voice breaking anyway. "It's nothing. I just… had a really bad dream."
She froze. Her expression went blank. "It's not very funny when it happens to you," she said quietly. "Is it, Pondaru?" A smirk tugged at her lips, just enough to tell me she'd finally gotten one over on me.
Something in me shattered.
The tears came harder now, hot and uncontrollable. "Y-you're right," I sobbed. "I was… I was so insensitive. I didn't understand you at all… squirt."
I always called her squirt, but… her real name? It was still gone from my memory. My chest ached just thinking about it. Could I even ask? Wouldn't that make me look like a half-assed big brother—the same one who had promised to protect her the day she came home from the hospital, the same one who had lived with her every day for the last eleven years? She'd hate me if she knew I'd forgotten, wouldn't she?
She hesitated, then stepped closer. "Hey…" Her brows knit together. "Are you really okay? You look like you've seen a kaiju or something…"
"Yeah," I lied, scrubbing at my face. "I'm fine. Really. Let's just… play a game together already—"
"PONDARU!" A voice thundered up from the garage. "I've been calling you! Why haven't you answered me, son?!"
My breath caught. "Calling…?" I pulled my phone from my pocket.
The screen was cracked. Just like it had been during the crash. "Huh…?" I whispered. "How is it still—?"
"PONDARU! Hurry your butt up, son!"
I shoved my phone back into my pocket. "I'm coming!!!" I shouted, darting out of her room.
I'll definitely play with you lots after I deal with the old man… alright? Wait for me, squirt!
In the end, I didn't have the courage to ask her… not yet.
When I entered the garage-like workshop, he was hunched over at his desk, holding his metal pincers and working on something.
"You needed me, Dad?"
"Yeah, thanks for finally coming, son." He turned away from me toward his desk again. "Grab that piece for me—I can't reach it. And if I let go of this component, it'll snap shut. Hurry though, it's hard to keep it open with these small sticks."
He always made useless things instead of actually looking for a real job. Said it might change the world someday, bringing smiles to people's faces—but most of all, money.
"What is it this time?" I asked, bringing him the part.
"It's an action cat."
"Action cat?"
"Don't tell me you're that clueless, son. It's a toy cat that performs an action when pressed."
Naming was never his strong suit. But they had made a bit of money. Before I was old enough to work a real, legal job, he kept chasing the dream of making it big as an inventor, turning down every other work opportunity.
He put the pincers down and stood it upright. "Voila—behold, son."
It looked like a 3D model of a cat. Something about it felt familiar, in a way that made my stomach tighten—like I'd seen it before, but couldn't remember where.
"Well, go on—press the button," he said, pulling me out of my thoughts before I could figure it out.
"All right…" I said softly and pressed it. But nothing happened.
"Hmmm…" I muttered, trying a few more times. "Yep… busted. As usual, huh?"
He didn't reply.
"Dad…?" I said, before turning around.
That's when I noticed—he was frozen in place, like an action figure he had made. " I—I didn't mean it in a bad way. I'm sure you can fix it like always, and it'll be better than ever…"
He still didn't move. But it wasn't just him. The whole room seemed to have stopped. Even the steam rising from a mug of cocoa—my mom had most likely made it—hung frozen in the air.
I tried to grab his arm, but it was locked stiff, unable to move an inch.
Panicked, I ran to the door to check on my mother and sister. When I opened it, they were both there, smiles on their faces, as if they were about to walk in and check on us.
Then suddenly—
"I'm sure you can fix it like always~!" a bright, jittery voice sang, faux-sweet and teasing. "You're sooo good at fixing things, riiight?" It chimed, spinning through the air. "You're really believing this stuff? Aww… that's kinda sad."
"Hey! Who's talking?!" I yelled, clutching my head. The sound was everywhere—inside my skull, echoing all around me. Covering my ears did nothing to block it.
"Ooooh, look at you, panicking~!" the voice cooed, sharp but trying not to laugh. " you actually think you're human? Hah… wow. That's got to be the funniest thing I've ever heard."
"Unfreeze them… please. Just let us go," I pleaded.
"Us?"
A tiny gasp. Then a delighted laugh. "Ehehe—wait, you're serious? You just said us?" The tone sharpened, still sweet, like sugar glass. "As in… you really lumped yourself in with them?" It clicked its tongue. "Did you honestly think they cared about you? Like—for real?" It clicked its tongue. "Aww… you did, didn't you? Those cute little programmed memories totally fooled you. That's hilarious~."
"S-shut up!" I shouted.
"Aww, rude~," it pouted. "And here I am trying to help you. That kinda hurts my feelings, you know?"
"Let my family go!"
"HUHHH?" the voice squeaked, irritation slipping through the cheer. "You still believe that? Even after I spelled it out for you?" A sharp little laugh followed. "Just let go already~. You're wasting sooo much time, streetwalker."
Then—
My mother's arm twitched. Slowly, unnaturally, her head sagged forward. Her eyes rolled back, then snapped open again—too wide, unfocused.
Her mouth stretched into a jerking, wrong smile.
"Ooo, look~!" the voice sang through her, words stiff and off-beat. "I'm your fake, coded mommy." Her head tilted at an impossible angle as she leaned toward my sister, movements jittering like a puppet yanked too hard.
"S-stop!" I cried, dragging them back, my hands shaking.
"Tch," the voice clicked, openly annoyed now. "You're really disappointing you know that?" A pause. When it spoke again, the bubbly sing-song from before was gone—flattened into something cold and sharp.
"And you're supposed to be my upgrade."
"That… seriously pisses me off."
The words hadn't even finished echoing when everything gave.
My mother collapsed first—her body dropping like a marionette with its strings cut. My sister followed, then my father, all three hitting the floor in dull, lifeless thuds. The frozen smiles shattered on impact, faces slack and empty.
Around us, the world finally remembered how to move. Tools clattered from the workbench. The mug of cocoa smashed, steam bursting free as the cup shattered across the concrete. Time crashed back into itself all at once.
I stumbled as the ground seemed to fall away, my knees buckling.
Then the light came.
Bright. Blinding.
It swallowed the room, the bodies, the noise—everything—until there was nothing left but white, washing me out completely. The mocking voice was completely gone now… The light shattered into a million broken pieces—each one slicing past as I fell.
Darkness rushed in, swallowing everything...
☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★
"Hey, kid—wake up." Another voice cut through, deeper than the mocking one. "It's too cold here, You'll freeze to death if you stay like this...."
A light pressure pressed against my wrist for a moment, then it was gone.
"Tch!" the voice snapped, louder this time. "Get the hell up!"
My eyes snapped open instantly. I blinked, the stink of blood and burnt metal still clogging my nose. I looked down. My hand was slick, red soaking into my palm.
Oh no… it's back. The blood's really back. So this isn't a dream. This is real— all of it.
I lifted my gaze from my palm and froze. A giant of a man loomed over me, leather torn and filthy, his face buried in shadow.
"Quit staring at it. You can bleed later." His voice was terrifying, like a brick dragged through fire. "Now get up—before that scratch stops being your biggest problem."
"Noooooooooo!" The scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it. "Get away from me, pervert!" My legs trembled, unsteady and weak, but the fear inside me roared louder. "Get away—get away!"
"Hey—tch! Seriously?" I could've sworn I heard him say that—but it didn't matter. His growling voice was too scary, to be genuine.
I bolted across the room, brushing past the curtain and bursting into the hall like some cornered animal—desperate, wild—my feet pounding the floor so hard it felt like they might split open.
I must've looked pathetic. Even if he promised he wouldn't hurt me, my body had already decided to run, leaving him behind in that room of horrors.
The world blurred as I scrambled past the stage and electronic performers—then—
Wham.
Something slammed into me.
No—more precisely, I slammed into it.
The impact knocked the breath out of me. The feel of the It wasn't hard like metal, but firm and unyielding. "Huh" I said staggering back, and looking up.
She didn't look normal. Her style was loud, almost reckless, like some outlaw or rebel walking straight out of a wanted poster.
Her skin caught the flickering neon—bronze where the light kissed her, but pale and untouched beneath her ribs and along her inner thighs.
The rest of her was hidden under a huge, brown trench coat, half-open, the kind made for cold weather. Even bundled up, she radiated danger, like the soft belly of some feral predator just barely restrained.
She clicked her tongue at me, lips curling into a sharp, amused sneer. "The hell you starin' at, twerp? you better be buyin' dinner if you're going to keep eye fuckin' me like that."
My breath caught on two details at once: her chest, impossibly large, almost bullying the combat fabric straining to contain it… and the undeniably massive caliber ammo shells strapped across it.
If she had a nickname, it would most definitely be: "Ammo Tits." The words tumbled out before I even realized I'd said them.
Heat slammed up my neck. My knees buckled. I folded in on myself like a kid bracing for a scolding, vision tilting sideways. I didn't even realize I was falling—my head smashed into the floor, the pain exploding into a white flash… then everything went black.
"No fuckin' way! Oi, U-Usumi, did you hear that?! This brat just whispered tiiits! then passed out like a fuckin' ragdoll—hahaha! I'm dyin'!"