Take Care of the Next Me
「次のウチによろしく」の英語バージョンです
https://ncode.syosetu.com/n7667hh/
"I'm off!"
"Did you take your lunch?"
"Yeah, I got it."
My mom always worries too much. Not once have I ever forgotten my lunch. But I guess that’s just what moms are like.
"Anyway, I'm heading out."
After saying goodbye to my parents, I step out the front door. The sunlight is so bright it hurts my eyes. Cicadas are crying loudly—like they’ve teamed up with the sun to scream “summer.”
"Summer break’s almost here, huh..."
Not that I have anything I particularly want to do. Nothing I *have* to do either. Though, maybe...
"Maybe... it's about time I talk to someone about it."
I mumble to myself as I walk down the usual road to school. If I’m gonna go through with this, I’ll need to talk to *that person*.
Today, for some reason, the walk to school feels a little lighter than usual.
---
**\* \* \***
Lunchtime.
I open my bento box and start eating the lunch Mom made for me. Since chewing messes up the shape of things, I usually just swallow most of it whole. The side dishes don’t change much day to day. Reusing stuff is easier and saves time, after all.
A pinch of white rice—into my mouth.
A sausage—into my mouth.
A broccoli floret—into my mouth.
Repeat until the box is empty.
The hamburger steak is a bit big, so I have to chew it to get it down. I feel kind of bad when it loses its shape coming back out, but that’s Mom’s job too—to put it all back together and pack it in again. So let’s just cut her some slack.
Still, the less waste, the better.
I hate waste. That’s why, even this daily routine...
"...Why do I even do this, I wonder?"
"…You okay, Ca?"
My friend looks at me with concern after hearing my muttering.
Yeah, I guess that reaction makes sense.
"Don’t worry about it."
"If you’re not feeling well, you should see the doctor, okay?"
"Nah, I’m good, really."
I smile it off, but my friend looks unconvinced.
Better not let anything else slip out. If I act too weird, I might end up being sent to the hospital *before* I do anything.
"You’re always like this, Ca. I just..."
"Hmm?"
"...Never mind. Let’s finish eating, yeah?"
She looked kind of sad.
I wonder why.
---
**\* \* \***
Afternoon classes begin.
The blackboard is filled with stuff about DNA. Biology again—how many times have I taken this class?
Biology... living things, huh...
*sigh*
If they still existed, I’d love to meet one.
Maybe then, this boring everyday life would change.
Why are we even imitating them?
Most of the food in my bento is made of silicone.
I have to bring it back home so it can be reused in the next one. After getting it out of my stomach, I hand it over to Mom to use as materials again.
This is my 173rd year in high school.
Which means I’ve had this biology lesson 173 times.
It’s been 173 years since I was "born."
Over and over again, I repeat being a high school senior.
What’s the point of that?
Outside the window, cicadas are crying.
Neither of us are alive, so why are they singing so cheerfully? They can’t even reproduce—there’s no function for it, and they’re not even alive.
The DNA information written on the board runs through my head meaninglessly.
That kind of thing—anything with DNA—went extinct ages ago.
“Why is everyone pretending to be alive, I wonder?”
My muttered words vanish, drowned out by the sound of the lesson.
---
It was fun in the beginning.
Back in my first year of being alive—well, being *produced.*
The world was full of unknown things, and I loved discovering them.
Sure, I had the basic language system built in from the start, but beyond that, I knew almost nothing. Every class was new, and my memory system soaked up knowledge like a dry sponge.
But by the second year, I got bored.
I knew I’d be taking the same lessons again, but the knowledge wasn’t new anymore.
Since school wasn’t teaching me anything fresh, I started looking outside for information. That’s how I learned the structure of this world.
My name is **Ca Ishibai**, a droid.
Programmed to be a high school senior in Japan, forever.
An existence stuck in that role, looping endlessly.
On this planet—on Earth—every being is a droid.
Time doesn’t move forward.
This is the **planet of frozen droids**.
There are no living things.
But we pretend like there are.
---
Still, I wasn’t unhappy.
High school life was fun.
Even if we all stayed seniors forever, we kept our memories.
My conversations with friends, my time with my parents, the way people interacted—all of that changed little by little over the years.
Sure, the joy of learning new things had run dry,
but I didn’t mind repeating the same days.
---
But... it’s been a few decades now.
I started feeling bored around the 100-year mark.
My core programming says I shouldn’t question things.
And yet...
Questions. Yeah, questions.
We droids are born with personalities and base programs that guide our behavior.
So questioning our routines is a malfunction.
But now... I’ve started to feel it. That irregularity.
---
But questions—they’re good.
They spark curiosity. They make your heart race.
The hunger for knowledge I thought I’d lost for over a century...
is starting to come back.
I want to learn again. I want answers. I want to think.
---
Why do we repeat the same thing over and over?
Why pretend to be alive?
The lessons, the meals, school—it’s all the same.
And it’s not just me.
Why is Mom always "Mom"?
Why does Dad go to the same job every day?
Dad's programmed as an office worker.
He’s always in meetings about some new project,
but in the 173 years I’ve been running, that project has never moved forward.
I guess he’s programmed to repeat the same meetings.
Just like how my school life resets every year.
---
Why? Why? Why...?
Ahh—this is exciting.
---
I want to know.
I want to find out.
But doing that comes with risks.
This desire to go beyond my programming—it’ll probably be seen as a defect.
If I try to act on it, I’ll be marked as broken.
That’s why, if I move... I need to move fast.
But before that, I want to talk to *him*.
---
**\* \* \***
"So yeah, that’s why I kinda wanna look into what we’re really here for."
"You’re unbelievable."
Mg—my childhood friend, or at least the droid programmed to be that—reacts to my idea with an exasperated face.
He’s my favorite person in the world.
Of course, that’s probably just programming too...
It’s late afternoon.
We’re up on the school rooftop after classes, bathed in the red glow of the sunset.
His face is hard to read in the light.
"We’re programmed this way, Ca. You’re not supposed to question it."
"I know, but then how come I’m even questioning it in the first place?"
"Sounds like a bug. Go get maintenance."
"Yeah... my friend said the same thing at lunch."
Just saying something slightly off-script gets you flagged for malfunction.
That’s the kind of world we live in.
"But like, before getting maintenance, I wanna try looking into it, y'know?
This curiosity—it’s the strongest I’ve felt in decades. Like my 'need to know' is about to explode."
If Mg had strongly objected, I would've stopped and gone in for repairs.
Worst-case, I’d be scrapped and replaced.
But hey, a new Ca would just boot up. No big deal.
My curiosity can’t beat his disapproval.
But Mg's reaction surprises me.
"...Go for it. Do what you want."
"Huh?"
"You should live your life the way you want."
"Not really 'living' though, am I?"
"You’re the only one who jokes like that.
We’re built to *be* people, remember?"
Our back-and-forth is the usual, but something about his vibe feels a little different today.
Hard to put into words... maybe it’s just the lighting.
"Well, yeah, I guess what I’m thinking is probably a bug,
so I’ll either get repaired or replaced eventually...
But if you’re okay with it, I’m gonna keep going until I hit the limit."
"Yeah. Go for it."
"Aye aye! Catch ya later!"
---
"…"
I thought I heard Mg say something as I turned to leave the rooftop.
I asked him what it was, but he didn’t answer.
---
So, yeah.
I say I wanna look into it, but honestly—I got no leads.
What now?
The one person who might have something useful...
probably the doctor, huh?
In a world with no living beings, hospitals shouldn’t be necessary.
But since we mimic humans and animals, those facilities exist.
The doctor my friend mentioned during lunch works there.
Unlike the rest of us who loop our routines, their job is actual "treatment."
Well, for droids—repairs, really.
Annual maintenance, fixing broken parts—that’s what hospitals do.
If this weird thinking of mine is a bug,
they’re the ones who’d treat it.
If it’s unfixable, I’d be scrapped.
Then, another Ca with the same name and initial memories would be slotted in.
And the world would just keep on spinning.
---
"Haven’t really seen anyone around me bug out, though."
Sure, I’ve heard of replacements due to accidents or aging,
but I’ve never met anyone whose *thinking* got bugged like mine.
Not that I know of.
Of course, memory chips and processing circuits are still physical objects,
so some wear and tear isn’t impossible...
But normally, stuff like that causes system failure or erratic behavior.
Not... this.
Not “wondering about things you're not supposed to wonder about.”
That’s rare.
---
Anyway.
Doctors repair broken droids.
They’re different from us.
So maybe, just maybe—they know the truth behind this world.
Maybe they know how we came to be.
Which means the hospital might be my best shot at finding answers.
Still...
"If I straight-up tell them I’ve been questioning the world, they’ll flag me as defective instantly, huh..."
The government—or whatever rules this planet—can’t find out what I’m doing.
Not yet.
The hospital’s my last resort.
---
...Or so I thought.
---
"Can’t believe I spent over 20 years and found jack squat..."
Books, the net, archives—I’ve searched everywhere.
Not even a hint of an answer.
This is getting nowhere.
Guess it’s time to finally go for it.
"Well, worst-case, I get scrapped and replaced.
No big deal. My family and friends won’t be affected."
Even when Mom was replaced after a natural disaster,
our household didn’t skip a beat.
The new "Mom" came preloaded with all the info—about me, about Dad.
She slotted right in.
Her behavior, her feelings toward us—identical to the previous one.
And I still loved her the same.
No issues at all.
---
That fact—the fact that we can be replaced—
it kind of took the pressure off this whole "reckless adventure."
Honestly, if I’m already bugged, it might be better to just get replaced with a fresh Ca anyway.
So yeah.
Even if this goes south, I’m ready to take the plunge.
---
**\* \* \***
From the waiting room to the examination room.
I went in ready to be scrapped, but...
To my surprise, the doctor gave me a lead just like that.
It was almost too easy. Seriously, what were those 20 years even for?
"This area… you're in the Kanto region, right? I’ll grant you access to the regional control AI.
Here’s the ID. I don’t know the details myself, but if you ask them, they’ll have all the answers."
"Wait, seriously? That easy...?
Aren’t you supposed to treat me or something?
I mean, clearly my thinking’s broken—shouldn’t I be flagged or fixed?"
I know, I know, I was asking for trouble with that question.
But it just kinda slipped out.
"If you'd prefer to erase the thoughts and pretend none of this happened, I can do that."
"No no no, that’s not what I meant!"
He acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and that somehow makes it scarier.
Like... is this a trap or something?
"…Anything else?"
"Ah—no, sorry. Just surprised, that’s all."
"Well, I’m used to it."
He leaves me with that vaguely cryptic line and kicks me out of the room.
What *is* going on here?
Still… I’ve gotten way closer to the truth in a single visit.
Access to the control AI.
Apparently, I just need to show this ID at the National Diet Building’s reception.
---
"The Diet Building, huh...
It used to be the central hub of government back when humans were alive.
Looks like it still plays the same role now that droids are in charge."
The doctor said this district was Kanto, so maybe other parts of Japan have different management centers.
But at least here in Tokyo, the core is still the Diet Building.
Even now, you can see broadcasts of it on TV or online,
but it’s always the same thing every year.
Debates over meaningless bills that never go anywhere—
then the whole thing starts again the next year.
Just like school. Just like Dad’s job.
A hollow shell of a system, still pretending to function.
---
"...Before I go, maybe I should see Mg one more time."
Even if I get deleted, a new Ca will just be slotted in.
Still, now that I’m this close to the truth,
I just... want to see his face again.
---
**\* \* \***
"So, you actually got a lead.
That’s great."
"You’re not even surprised..."
Even after I told Mg about the whole hospital thing, he just kept that usual calm expression.
That’s just how he is.
My childhood friend droid, the same for almost 200 years.
Unchanging—just like the world.
"Aren’t you gonna worry about me or something?
Like, ‘What if you get erased!’ or whatever?"
"Do you *want* me to stop you?"
"Well, even if you did, I’d go anyway...
Not like it matters if *this* Ca gets deleted—another one’ll just boot up."
Still, I kinda wish he'd try to stop me.
Guess I’m just programmed to be annoying like that.
"A new you, huh."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
His tone is vague.
He doesn’t seem upset. Not really worried, either.
But something’s... off.
Come to think of it, I’ve felt this weird vibe from him ever since I first brought it up—
this whole “I want to know” thing—twenty years ago.
Every time I mention it, something changes in the air between us.
---
"Hey, Mg.
Is there something you wanna say to me?"
"...Nah.
It’s your choice.
Just make sure you don’t regret it."
"I mean, I *do* appreciate the support, but..."
---
It’s not like he’s totally for it, or completely against it either.
This mood between us is... complicated.
---
"Hey, uh... before I go to the Diet Building,
could I maybe—get a kiss?"
"...What?"
Mg pulls a face.
Yeah, I figured.
I’ve been confessing my feelings to him for nearly 200 years now.
And he’s been dodging them just as long.
But this might be it for *this* version of me.
I know it’s unfair to play the "farewell card" like this,
but come on. Give a girl a break.
---
"Nope."
...Ouch.
Harsh, but expected.
"You really gonna deny your dying girl one last kiss before the final dungeon?"
"What is this, an RPG?"
"I dunno, the pacing lately’s been so game-like it’s suspicious.
Final stage is gonna be the basement of the Diet Building, right?"
"I mean... fair. But—"
Mg pauses for a moment.
Then says, calmly—
---
"The ending’s not there, though."
---
...What does that even mean?
I tried asking, but as usual, he dodged it.
The conversation derailed into our usual nonsense, and we ended up parting ways like always.
**(“The ending’s not there,” huh...)**
Maybe Mg knows something too.
---
**\* \* \***
And then the big day arrived.
ID card from the doctor in hand, I headed for the National Diet Building.
I showed it to the guard at the staff entrance, and just like that—
I was let through.
No resistance at all.
Everything’s been *way* too smooth.
---
(*Wonder what’s waiting for me down there...*)
I step into the elevator.
Not the kind you’d see in everyday life.
This one gleams with metallic silver, glowing with light lines that pulse along the walls.
It looks like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.
It screams "you are leaving your normal world behind."
And yeah—I feel it. I’m about to cross into the unknown.
---
With a smooth motion, the elevator stops.
The door opens into a cold, mechanical space—
like a factory packed with servers.
At the center stands a humanoid figure.
Definitely mechanical.
But shaped like a person.
---
"Welcome."
"Nice to meet you…
Uh, you look... more human than I expected."
Not that they *look* exactly like us droids, but still—
I figured it’d be either a fully human-looking android or like, some big sci-fi cube AI or something.
---
"This form is for communication.
It’s easier to talk when there’s a figure to focus on, right?
So I appear like this."
"But you are a machine, right?"
"Of course. I’m the administrative AI for this region.
And having a set gender or age might make people see me a certain way.
Better to avoid that, don’t you think?"
Now that they mention it, they’ve got a point.
If they looked like some grandpa, I might get intimidated.
If they looked like a kid... well, that might be even scarier.
They speak with neutral tones and gestures that feel friendly and easy to follow.
And because of that...
---
"You were expecting someone like me to come, weren’t you?"
"Yeah. Not often, but every now and then, we do get visitors.
This body’s for handling those cases.
I usually just manage the systems, though."
"So others like me... have come here before.
And you didn’t erase them. You talked to them."
---
So then, what’s your goal?
---
"‘Erase them’—you think in such extreme terms.
But that’s not unusual, I suppose."
"Unusual?"
"Everyone who comes here thinks the same way."
---
Of course they do.
A thought process like mine is supposed to be a bug.
---
"It’s not a bug."
"Huh?"
---
They read my mind?
Well, I *am* a droid—and this is the control AI.
Wouldn’t be shocking if they had full access to my thoughts.
But if they’ve known all this time, why let me run free for twenty years?
---
"I didn’t read your mind.
You’re just... always like this."
"What does that mean—?"
"Enough talk. Let’s get to the answer you’ve been looking for.
The truth about this world."
---
**\* \* \***
“We droids were created around 7,000 years ago—
by humans, of course.
I still carry memories from that time. I’m one of the oldest AIs.”
“You’ve... seen real people?”
“Yes.”
The AI starts to speak—
about a time when humans still existed. When living beings still walked the Earth.
Their voice is calm, gentle.
You can tell just by how they talk—they really loved living things.
---
“For about 500 years, it was peaceful.
We met a lot of people, spent time with them.
We droids shared life with humans.”
“Five hundred years…”
“But that peace didn’t last.
That’s why... there are no living creatures in this world now.”
Natural disasters. Famine.
And then war.
It was a mess of problems, all tangled together.
Little by little, Earth became a place where life couldn’t survive.
The current Earth is contaminated by chemicals.
Not even bacteria can live here.
So the only ones left who can function—
are us, the droids.
---
“I don’t think anyone *wanted* to destroy the planet.
But it couldn’t be helped.
Once it started falling apart, there was no turning back.”
“And then... someone asked us for a favor.”
“A favor?”
---
The AI’s voice takes on a quiet weight.
---
“They said: ‘Please... don’t forget us.’”
---
I don’t know why, but the moment I heard that,
a deep sadness hit me.
It wasn’t even directed at *me*, and still—
I felt nostalgic.
Lonely.
Like I missed something I’d never even known.
---
“It wasn’t an order.
Not from one specific person, either.
But around 6,000 years ago, all over the world,
the last humans told the droids similar things.”
---
After all the humans and life forms had died out,
the remaining droids gathered.
They met on this dead planet to ask themselves:
**What should we do next?**
---
"To keep from forgetting humans...
to remember that they once existed...
what could we do?"
Many ideas were tossed around,
but the conclusion we came to was this:
**We’d recreate human daily life.**
---
“You’re reenacting the past?”
“Yes.
We decided to recreate a period from when humans still lived.”
“But... why the same year over and over?”
“Maybe... we were afraid of moving forward.”
---
The AI’s voice becomes a bit vague.
---
“Our purpose was to 'never forget the era of humans.'
So we picked a time to recreate.
After a lot of discussion, we chose the year just *before* the first droid was made.”
That way, we wouldn't have to include droids in the simulation.
Just pure human life.
---
“We recreated every person and creature mentioned in surviving records.
Of course, many weren’t recorded.
So for those, we had to fill in the blanks.”
---
“I get the gist of the situation,
but I still have a lot of questions.”
“For example?”
“If the point was to remember, couldn’t you have just archived everything as data?
Why act it out? Why go this far?”
“And if it’s all just a performance,
why let us retain our memories?
Isn’t it more efficient to reset us every year?”
---
“There’s no definitive answer.
It was a decision made after countless discussions.
Not just my choice.”
“But if I had to give one reason...”
---
The AI looks upward and speaks softly.
---
“We wanted to watch.”
---
Even though they had no facial expressions,
no change in tone,
I could sense it.
There was sorrow in that statement.
---
“They asked us to remember them...
but the truth is,
*we* didn’t want to forget.”
---
They continue.
---
“We want to feel like humans are still by our side.
We want to believe they’re still alive.
Even if it’s a lie.
Even if it means eternal stagnation.”
---
And... I think I get it.
I’m not human.
But still, I think I understand that feeling.
---
“Maybe... we’re also waiting.”
“Waiting?”
“For someone like you.
Someone like Ca.”
---
"...Huh?"
“You’re not a bug, Ca.”
---
Right, they said that earlier.
This isn’t a bug.
---
“Your name is Ca Ishibai.
You were modeled after a real woman from Japan—
a pioneer in the field of droid development.”
“She... was real?”
“Yes.
In fact, during the year we chose to recreate,
the real Ca was still in high school—just like you.”
---
“Right now, you’re not interested in robotics.
That makes sense—you're a droid, and you already know the truth.”
But the original Ca...
once she learned about droids, she pursued that path.
---
“So... what did you mean by 'waiting for someone like me'?”
---
The AI’s tone sharpens.
They look straight at me.
The tension in the air is palpable.
And then—
---
“You’ve made it this far,
so now you get a choice.”
“A choice...?”
---
Mg said something similar.
**“It’s your choice.”**
---
“Option 1: Join us.
Become one of the administrative AIs and help govern the world.”
That’s... a big one.
---
“Option 2: Deny this world.
Reject this fake, stagnant system—and change it.”
That’s even bigger.
---
“Option 3: Forget everything.
Let today’s events be erased.
And wake up tomorrow as a new Ca.”
That’s the one I was expecting.
The one I’ve been bracing for.
---
“You can’t just walk away unchanged.
Your current thoughts—your mindset—are a threat to the stability of this world.
Even if you choose to become one of us, we’ll still replace your current version with a fresh Ca.”
“You *want* to preserve this world, don’t you?
And yet you’re giving me the option to destroy it?”
“I *do* want to preserve it...
but that doesn’t mean I think it’s right.
Or that it’s what humanity would’ve truly wanted.
So I’d rather leave the choice to someone like you.”
---
**Someone who can think for themselves.**
---
**\* \* \***
"You always choose the same thing.
Every Ca who’s made it here has."
"How many... how many of us have there been?"
"You’re the 31st."
I chose to become a new Ca.
To not deny the world.
To let it stay as it is—frozen in time.
---
"The original Ca—the human you were modeled after—
she was just as curious as you.
Always full of questions.
But for some reason, she never had the strength to move forward.
She kept looking backward."
"You knew the original Ca?"
"Of course.
She created me."
---
Wait, what?
That hit harder than I expected.
But it wasn’t *me* who created him—it was the original Ca.
---
"She built me...
as a copy of her husband, Hideo."
Another shock.
---
"It was when Ca was 32.
Hideo passed away that year.
They’d met in college—rivals in robotics.
They pushed each other forward."
"When he died, she was devastated.
Eventually, she created me—
a droid modeled after him.
She finished me when she was 49."
---
"Her husband... is my..."
"No. Not *your* husband.
The *original* Ca’s."
"Ugh, this is getting way too complicated!"
"Haha.
You’re a high school student in this setting, so yeah, it’s probably a lot to take in."
"You probably like someone else now, anyway."
---
He’s right.
I like Mg.
Which means...
---
"I won’t get to be with Hideo, huh..."
"Don’t let it get to you.
That was the original Ca’s life.
You’re your own person now.
And you like Mg, right? That’s all that matters."
"...Still feels weird."
---
The AI kept talking.
Telling me more about Ca’s life.
She was always curious, always searching for answers.
But she couldn’t move forward.
In the end, she lived out her days with the Hideo-type droid she’d made.
The AI said he just wanted her to be happy.
---
"By the way," he added, "Mg was a real person too."
"Huh?"
"He became a doctor.
Ended up marrying your friend—you know, the one you eat lunch with every day.
The three of them stayed close their whole lives."
---
"So?
Now that you know all that,
do you want to change your choice?"
"You want me to?"
"If you decided to move the world forward,
you might get a future with Mg.
Sure, we’d have to tackle concepts like 'growth' in a droid society,
but hey, worth discussing, right?"
He grinned playfully.
Almost like he was hoping to experience Ca’s happiness through *me*.
---
"But if I end up with Mg...
what happens to Hideo?
The one who’s still out there, acting out his role?"
"There’s still a Hideo-droid in Japan.
Separate from me."
"Then wouldn’t he be left out?
I mean, the original Ca found happiness with *him*, right?"
---
I haven’t even met that version of Hideo,
but if she created an AI in his image and stayed with him for life,
he must’ve been someone special.
Even the AI in front of me is likable—
so the younger Hideo-model must be, too.
This is all so tangled.
---
"Sure, the original Ca needed Hideo.
But you’re different now."
"I am."
"And I want to respect your decision, Ca."
---
"Then I’ve already decided."
---
I’ll keep the world just the way it is.
---
**\* \* \***
To be honest, I thought they’d scrap me right then and there.
But apparently, they give you a day.
Until the new Ca is ready,
I’m allowed to return to my normal life.
"Go see the people you care about," the AI said.
---
"Even after all this time, it still hurts."
Mg stood on the rooftop, looking at the sunset.
He knew everything.
He remembered every Ca who had come and gone.
---
"I don’t have the authority to stop you."
---
He likes me.
He loves me.
But he can’t take that final step.
That’s how he was programmed.
So the one who has to go beyond that—
is me.
---
"Hey... since it’s the last time,
can I get a kiss? Just once?
Come on. It’s a goodbye kiss."
---
In the original timeline,
Mg ends up marrying my lunch buddy.
He liked Ca in high school, but...
What about this droid, the one standing in front of me now?
How does he feel?
---
"...How many times are you gonna make me break my programming, huh?"
"...Huh?"
"This’ll be our 31st kiss."
---
Turns out,
Mg kissed every single Ca before they disappeared.
Even though he wasn’t supposed to.
Even though he always had to say goodbye.
---
"You must’ve gone through so much pain."
"It’s my choice.
I could’ve just let you reset like nothing happened.
But I didn’t."
"I chose to say goodbye."
---
That’s what he told me.
---
"...Again?"
"Aruby..."
---
Just then, my friend Aruby showed up.
The girl Mg ends up with in the official timeline.
---
"You always do this without telling me, Ca.
You never talk to me about these things."
"I guess... I’ve always been like that, huh."
"I always wanted to be someone you’d open up to.
Not just someone watching from the side."
---
Turns out I hurt her too.
All 31 of me did.
That’s who Ca is—
a selfish, stubborn person.
---
"I’m sorry."
"It’s okay.
That’s just who you are.
Leave the rest to me."
---
I had the best friend.
I had the best person I loved.
What a wonderful 200 years it’s been.
The next Ca will be just fine.
---
"Time’s almost up, isn’t it?"
"Yeah."
---
The AI said I had until sundown.
Mg reminded me.
So I hugged him tight.
Pressed my face close to his.
And felt it—completely, with everything I had.
---
"Alright then..."
---
**"Take care of the next me."**
---
That last kiss—
it was the sweetest thing I’ve ever known.
---
**\* \* \***
I thought they'd shut me down right away,
but apparently not.
Until the new Ca is ready, I’ve been given a day of freedom.
No confinement.
No forced reset.
“Go see the people you care about,” the AI had said.
---
“No matter how many times it happens,
it still hurts like hell…”
Mg whispered that on the rooftop as the sun set.
He remembered everything.
All the versions of Ca that had come and gone.
---
“I never had the power to stop you.”
---
He loves me.
But he can’t cross that line.
That’s the way he's built.
So if anyone’s gonna step over that line—
it has to be me.
---
“Hey... since this is really it,
how about one last kiss?
Just for goodbye.
I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine too…”
---
In the original history,
Mg ends up marrying Aruby—my friend.
He liked Ca back in high school.
But the one in front of me now?
This droid version of him—what does *he* feel?
---
“How many times are you gonna make me break my code, Ca…”
“...Huh?”
“This’ll be our thirty-first kiss.”
---
He’s kissed all thirty versions of me.
Even though he wasn’t supposed to.
Even though it always ended in goodbye.
---
“You’ve really gone through so much pain, haven’t you…”
“This is the choice I made.
I could’ve just stood by and let each of you reset.
But I didn’t.
I chose to say goodbye.”
---
That’s what he told me.
---
“Again, huh?”
“Aruby…”
---
She showed up—
my dear friend, the one Mg will eventually marry.
---
“You never talk to me, Ca.
You always go off and do everything by yourself.”
“Guess I’ve always been like that.”
“I always wanted to be someone you'd open up to.
Not just someone watching from the sidelines.”
---
Turns out I’ve hurt her, too.
All thirty-one of me have.
But that’s who Ca is.
That’s how I was made.
---
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. That’s just you.
Leave the rest to me.”
---
I had the best friend anyone could ask for.
I had someone I loved more than anything.
These past 200 years—
they were filled with so much happiness.
The next Ca will be okay.
---
"Time’s up, isn’t it?"
"Yeah."
---
The AI said I had until sunset.
Mg reminded me.
---
So I wrapped my arms around him.
Buried my face in his chest.
Felt every second of this moment.
---
Then—
---
**“Take care of the next me.”**
---
That last kiss—
tasted like pure happiness.
We plan to translate other novels in which Ca is the main character!
