In the enigmatic confines of the white room, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, the revered "Masterpiece of the demonic 4th generation," undergoes rigorous training. But when the military raids the facility, Ayanokouji is finally freed from its grip.
However, spe...
I sat in my apartment, the walls adorned with neutral colors and devoid of any personal touch. It was a minimalist space, reflecting my preference for simplicity. Across from me stood Chabasira, a young woman with a brown, high ponytail hair that swayed with each movement she made.
When I first emerged from the military van and into the government building, Chabasira was there, a government-appointed liaison assigned to aid in my assimilation into society. She had the responsibility of overseeing my progress, ensuring that I adjusted to the complexities of the outside world and its myriad challenges.
As I settled into my new surroundings, Chabasira had become a constant presence in my life. We had spent countless hours together, navigating the intricacies of this unfamiliar world. From teaching me the basics of using a smartphone to explaining the bewildering array of social norms, she had been guiding me this journey of rediscovery.
Chabasira took a drag from her cigarette, the smoke spiraling upward and blending with the faint rays of sunlight that seeped through the blinds. I couldn't help but notice her nonchalant demeanor, seemingly oblivious to the potential implications of smoking in the presence of a minor.
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Even though I remained largely indifferent to the actions and habits of others, I found myself mildly intrigued by the incongruity of the situation. It was unusual to witness an adult engaging in such behavior so casually.
"Chabasira-san," I addressed her in my usual monotone voice, "while it is not my place to dictate your choices, I find it peculiar that you would smoke so casually in front of a minor."
She turned her gaze towards me, her eyes partially concealed behind a veil of smoke. With a nonchalant shrug, she exhaled, allowing the wisps of smoke to dissipate into the air. "Oh, don't worry about it, Ayanokouji-kun," she replied, her tone suggesting a dismissive nonchalance. "I've been smoking for a while, and it helps me relax. Besides, you're practically an adult yourself."
I regarded her with an indifferent expression, my mind processing her words without much concern. Her attempts to justify her actions and categorize me as almost an adult held no weight in my calculations. Age held little significance to me, and I was more interested in understanding her perspective.
"I understand that smoking can be perceived as a stress relief for some individuals," I responded, my voice devoid of any judgment or emotion. "However, it is important to consider the potential health risks and the impact it may have on those in close proximity, especially minors."
Chabasira took another drag of her cigarette, the ember glowing brightly as she inhaled. Exhaling a plume of smoke, she regarded me with a mixture of amusement and skepticism.
"You know, Ayanokouji-kun, you sound just like one of those AI chatbots," she remarked, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Always rational, logical, and devoid of any real emotion. Are you sure you're not secretly an AI yourself?"
