“I am known as Jin. It is written with the kanji for ‘blade.’”
“What a name! What were your parents thinking?”
“It is my code name, as an assassin. I’m more accustomed to it now than I am to my real name.”
“Japan, right? We’re talking about Japan here?”
Human experiments on death row inmates and now assassins. What in the heck was happening? A moment ago, she was in a high fantasy, with other worlds and Dark Lords, but now things had turned real gritty real fast.
“What do you mean?” said Psycho. “This is just your standard girl talk.”
“Um, just because girls are talking doesn’t necessarily make it girl talk,” Homura replied.
“Ha-ha, I’m just joking around. Anyway, what about you? The cyclops with the titties. What’s your name?”
“Titties—?!” Asahi instinctively covered her chest with her arms.
Not much stood out about Asahi other than that one of her eyes was hidden and that her breasts were large; that was fair enough. But they were only large compared to everyone else’s present at the moment. It wasn’t like they were ginormous or anything.
“My name is Homura. Asa—”
“Homura. That’s actually a pretty cool name. How about you, the girl behind her? What’s your name?”
“What, no, that’s my last name. My first is… Oh, you’re not listening anymore…”
Asahi tried to correct her, but Psycho had already moved on. It felt kind of weird, having someone mix up her first and last names, but Psycho was right. It did sound pretty cool.
Besides, it didn’t really matter. Homura it was.
“What’s your name? Er, more importantly, what’s wrong with your skin? Are you actually human?” Psycho peered at the smaller girl suspiciously.
In response, the girl retreated behind Homura.
“Why would you say something like that?! Why can’t a person be gray? Maybe she’s just really pale! She could be a demon baby or something! Or maybe a dark elf!”
“Neither of those things is human!”
The small girl shrank down even farther. “Two…”
“Two? Two what?”
“My name. 223.”
Her name was “223”…?
“What, like your serial number?” asked Psycho, picking up on something the rest of them apparently didn’t get.
The girl pressed her forehead against Homura’s back and nodded shyly.
“What do you mean, serial number?” asked Homura.
“It means she’s the product of an experimental humanoid bioweapon program. Judging from her appearance, I’m guessing she was created through genetic manipulation. I never thought I’d get to lay eyes on one of these again. Ah, it sure takes me back. The things you see when you’re dead!” Psycho nodded, seemingly impressed.
“I was…defective. So they…disposed of me.”
“That’s even worse than the first two girls!”
Homura was glad she hadn’t learned about any of this stuff until after she was dead. If she had known what was going on in Japan while she was still alive, she might not have been able to sleep at night.
Bioweapon or not, though, it seemed kind of sad to only have a number for a name.
“Well, we can’t just go around calling you by a number. I know, what if I thought up a name for you?” asked Homura, spinning around and taking the girl by the hand.
“Really?”
“Really, really!”
The girl’s face seemed to brighten a little at the prospect of receiving a name other than her serial number. She seemed so pure. She stared up at Homura expectantly, through strangely colored eyes that peeked out from her dry, disheveled hair.
“Let’s see, since your number is 223… How about Tsutsumi? Isn’t that cute?”
“That’s basically just her number. You could have given it at least a little thought…”
Shut up, blondie!
“Tsutsumi… Tsutsumi… I like it.”
The tiny weapon of mass destruction muttered the name to herself several times, as if testing it out, before breaking into a toothy smile.
“Tsutsumi it is, then! A pleasure to meet you!”
Homura grabbed Tsutsumi in a hug, which the girl returned. Tsutsumi’s delicate frame was chilly to the touch, but the hug still felt warm.
“Enough, let’s save the hugs and tears for later,” Psycho complained. “There’s still one person left… Huh? Actually, I’m not sure this one’s human, either.”
“Again? If you keep saying rude things to everyone, you’re not gonna be left with any friends.”
“Who’s being rude? Take a look for yourself.”
Homura released the smaller girl from her hug and turned toward the last member of the group.
She was small, though not as small as Tsutsumi, boyish in appearance, and silver haired (with a bluish undertone). Despite the current situation, she appeared to be exceptionally calm and collected. Other than that, however, there was nothing particularly strange about her.
“What are you talking about?” said Homura. “She’s just a normal, cute-looking g…girl? Is…is she a doll?”
“See?”
Looking closer, Homura realized the girl was standing completely still. So still, in fact, that Homura wasn’t sure she was breathing.
Homura peered closely into the girl’s face. It was exquisitely structured. At a glance, she really did look human. But there were small details where her maker had failed to fully recreate the semblance of a living, breathing creature. The skin, which had appeared soft at first, looked firm when examined from up close. And the wide, round eyes, which were bordered with long lashes, were glossy in a way that seemed fake. The pupils, meanwhile, flickered with pulsing light.
“What the heck is this thing?”
Homura tried poking the doll’s face. The surface was plump and soft, but there was something hard underneath, just as she’d expected.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to poke someone’s face while they’re in the middle of an update? This is why I hate inferior life-forms…”
“Aghh!!”
Homura leaped back in surprise as the doll’s expression changed to one of annoyance.
In contrast to moments earlier, the girl (?) was now moving in a seemingly lithe and natural manner. She still didn’t seem to be breathing, however.