Wishes

“What?” asked Himeko.

“People are composed of their wishes, their aspirations, and dreams. Trap them in a box, and their hopes shall give them sustenance. That is what makes a will, and it is what separates me from you, from humanity. It is only through your dreams that you march forth, everchanging.” Angel said, looking away from her to stare at something unseen in the distance. “The Cube of New Urania was not the only one to malfunction.”

“It was Shusoin, wasn’t it?”

“That it was,” Angel agreed. “But, to keep our Madam safe and ensure stability, the pinformation was kept, as people say, hush-hush.”

“How did that even work when Yoshita wasn't even in the cube initially? Records would've been kept,” Himeko protested.

The robot nodded in solemn agreement. “They were, Lady Zaiyabōto. But as the only ward of the Takamagahara Protocol left, my master had significant influence on how things were preserved. That is to say, he fabricated that he was always there.” It put a hand over its chest, its eyes closing again. “I aided him in this endeavor, of course.”

Himeko let herself get lost in thought for a moment. “Why did he do so much for her?”

“Why don't you ask him yourself?” murmured Angel, gesturing towards the door behind the two of them, its white sleeves hanging so low they almost grazed the ground. “Go ahead, Lady Zaiyabōto. I shall keep watch.”

Nodding, Himeko walked past Angel, resting her hand on the doorframe as she looked back. “Thank you, Angel.”

“It is my pleasure.”

The sweet scent of jasmine curled around Himeko as she entered the Cube of Olyhymna’s room. Flowers were placed on the cube’s obsidian surface, like a funeral arrangement, and the thought made Himeko’s throat tighten. The terminal flickered on as she stepped closer. She tried not to shiver at the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes.

“Himeko,” the words popped up on the terminal. “You came back.”

“I don't think I could've stayed away even if I wanted to.” She replied, sliding into the seat in front of the cube. Cold radiated from it, but still she put its hands against it.

“You have questions for me.”

“How did you know?”

“Angel is my eyes, and it is connected to me. All of this city is, so I saw some of your conversation with Tenko, too. You really hate her, don't you?”

Himeko nodded. “She attacked me! She keeps attacking New Urania! She wants to kill me for someone else's sake. How could I not hate her?”

She thought she heard something like an audible sigh as Yoshita responded. “Yes, that’s understandable. I understand she is acting what she assumes is our mutual best interests, but still, I cannot say I agree with her methods.”

“You have the authority to have her arrested, or at least relieved of her duties. You know what's she's doing, so why don't you?”

“I can't.”

“You could if you wanted to,” said Himeko, flinching at the anger that seeped into her voice like a rancid brew. “So why don't you want to?”

Silence filled the air that even her mechanical breathing couldn't penetrate. For a moment, her mind materialized an image of Yoshita with his brows drawn in the way they always did when he was frustrated, a slender hand holding his pretty porcelain face as he sighed into his palms, and she rubbed her temples to evaporate the hallucination. Despite her better judgement, she went to take another look at her mind’s conjuring, and it made her ache something fierce when it really was gone.

It was her who spoke first, her voice no more than a whisper. “You don't want to stop her. You agree with her.”

Ellipses appeared on the screen. Then more and then even more, until the whole screen was polka-dotted. “…Yes.”

“Why, when the Takamagahara Protocol was our life’s work?” Himeko demanded. Part of her question was stuck in her throat, an accusation hardened into a lump. How could you?

“I miss the sun on my skin. I miss the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. I miss eating and sleeping. I miss when I didn't always feel like I was drowning.” Yoshita said to her through the screen. I miss you.”

“‘Me,’” echoed Himeko.

“You,” he affirmed. “And all the things I have lost because of the Protocol. A world without it, no, just the HCIP…that is the world I want.”

“I’m not the same Himeko you knew, just as the world we once knew without the HCIP is not the one you want to return to.”

“But both might be better. It would be a dream come true for us to move past our mutual dream. Is it wrong for me to want to experience that?”

Sighing, Himeko pulled her hands off the Cube and folded them together over her lap. “It isn’t wrong.” She smiled sadly to herself. “You sound just like the me in the Cube of New Urania.”

“We come from the same time,” said Yoshita. “And rely on ‘you’ to carry our wishes to the future.”

“I don’t think we’re ready for a world without the HCIP, but regardless of if we get to that point, the me in the Cube, me as I am now… we don’t deserve to keep getting attacked. I won't be able to carry any wishes if I’m dead – either of me. Please, ask Shusoin to stop.”

“-Ask me to stop what, exactly?” A sharp voice interrupted, and Himeko whipped her head around to see Shusoin standing in the doorway.

“You have a really nasty habit of sneaking up on people. Maybe stop that.” She muttered, her voice jagged with annoyance.

“It keeps me happy and everyone else on their toes. I don't plan on stopping anytime soon.” Replied Shusoin.

Her heels clicking on the floor, she sauntered ahead, +pulling her long orange hair from its confines as she draped herself over the Cube of Olyhymna. Her hair fell around it in a curtain, veiling it. Himeko watched as the area around where her cheek lay turned a soft white.

Shusoin tilted her head towards Himeko. “Now, what do you want me to stop?”

“Your attacks on New Urania. Your attempts to kill me, indirectly or not.” Himeko hissed.

“I thought I told you, zonbi shōjo, that the only way to free a cube’s prisoner is by killing it. The Cube dies, and you extract the ‘soul’ into a body. It's not so dissimilar to how ‘you’ were made.”

“And you want that body to be mine.”

“No, it needs to be yours,” corrected Shusoin sharply. “You're fractured. I can't condone breaking you further.”

Himeko dug her nails into her palm. “I am not broken.”

Words appeared on the terminal. “No, you are not broken, but you are split into two; the you we speak to now, and the you that serves as New Urania’s heart. Nakamura Kōji should have never split ‘Zaiyabōto Himeko’ into two halves. I don’t even know if you can be restored.”

“But I don’t mind it, and I don’t know if she minds either,” Himeko sighed deeply. “I need to talk to her. There’s no use convincing you two that I’m okay with this, and Kōrō is waiting for me. Bye, Yoshita.”

She stood up, striding towards the door when Shusoin interrupted. “Aw, no goodbyes for me?”

“Absolutely not.” Said Himeko, slipping through the door without looking back.

The chill of the ministry seeped slowly into her as she traversed it. Angel, whose eyes were closed and hands folded below its bowed head, blinked out of standby when she drew near and silently joined her. Himeko silently acknowledged it with a nod.

“How was your conversation with the Master and Madame?” it asked. Himeko’s eyes flicked onto it.

“We had differences in opinion.” she said coolly, though her face fell before she spoke again. “Angel, what do you think about the Takamagahara Protocol?”

A low electronic hum came from Angel. It blinked owlishly and the corners of its lips quirked slightly up. “I am grateful it gave me life, and…I think that its continued existence will eventually lead humanity to become the gods of this world again. It is just up to you to do the right thing with that power.”

Himeko, without her own input, abruptly halted and stared at Angel. It stared back, a silent reflection of humanity, before strolling past her and opening the door of the Ministry. Olyhymna, not yet asleep but not raucous with its nightlife, buzzed golden beyond it. Himeko lingered behind Angel. Kōrō waved to her excitedly from the steps again, and she waved back, though slower.

Angel smiled at her, and somehow, maybe for once, she didn’t see her own robotic body as a curse or disfigurement. “Well then, Lady Zaiyabōto, are you ready to continue to bring heaven to earth?”

“Not yet, but I’ll still try. Thank you, Angel,” Himeko admitted with a soft smile, bouncing down the stairs and launching into conversation with Kōrō.

The robot smiled.