Chapter 3:
Among Them
Reincarnated as a Robot- Living Life Bound Within a Machine
The alley stretched ahead, littered with trash bags and old crates, moonlight pooling in silvery patches. Haru pressed her back against the shop’s door, sensors humming, scanning the sounds beyond. The humans were still searching, their voices echoing in the distance, but further away now—toward the lab.
She pulled the hood lower over her face. The scarf scratched awkwardly against the edge of her neck plating, but it would hide the seams. Her fingers twitched, adjusting the sleeves of the oversized jacket until they covered the strange angles of her wrists.
One breath. Not real, but steady. One step forward.
The alley opened into a bustling street.
Haru froze.
The city was alive.
Towering skyscrapers blazed with neon signs, words and symbols her processors struggled to interpret, flickering advertisements dancing across glass walls. Crowds of humans flowed along the sidewalks like a river, their chatter overlapping into a chaotic chorus. Vehicles hummed and roared past on glowing wheels, leaving streaks of light in their wake. The air buzzed with energy, thick with the hum of machines and the warmth of countless lives moving at once.
Her HUD stuttered, overwhelmed. Trajectories, distances, voice patterns—too much information, all colliding in her vision. She shut it off with a shiver, leaving only the raw, unfiltered view. It was dizzying. Terrifying. Beautiful.
No one looked at her. Not yet. To them, she was just another shadow in the current of people.
I’m… in the world outside, she thought, the words halting, mechanical, yet filled with awe. I’m… free?
She took another step, sneakers scraping against the concrete. The humans nearby shifted naturally to make space, not even glancing her way. Her hood kept her hidden. Her scarf muffled the faint hum of her voice-box when she pretended to breathe.
For a moment, she dared to believe she belonged.
But then—
“Security patrol! Out of the way!”
A shout ripped down the street, sharp and commanding. Haru’s sensors flared. At the far end of the avenue, uniformed guards pushed through the crowd, holding strange weapons, eyes scanning every face. Red warning lights blinked on their suits, marking them as hunters.
Her circuits buzzed with panic. They were looking for her.
Haru slipped into the flow of people, trying to move like them, to mirror their rhythm. One foot after the other. Shoulders hunched. Don’t look. Don’t run. Just walk.
Every step felt like balancing on a blade. Her processors screamed calculations: probability of detection, vectors of escape, optimal hiding spots. But instinct overrode logic. She kept walking, following the crowd across the intersection, neon lights flickering across her hood.
One guard’s gaze swept toward her. Her breath hitched—mechanical, sharp.
But the crowd surged between them, and his attention shifted away.
Haru’s pace quickened. She turned down a side street, slipping deeper into the city’s veins. Her body trembled, every circuit alive with tension. She was no longer trapped in darkness. No longer just a machine among the lifeless.
She was among humans.
And if she wanted to survive, she would have to become one of them.
The side street was quieter, narrower. Neon bled into softer hues here—dim shop fronts, scattered stalls, her sensor picked up fried food being cooked nearby. The noise of the main avenue dulled to a distant roar, leaving only murmurs of late-night life.
Haru slowed her pace, her processors humming with constant recalculations. The guards’ boots still echoed faintly in the distance, but probability vectors dropped with each step she took. Safer. For now.
It was the young man leaning lazily against the counter.
He looked about her age—if she had one. Black hair fell into his eyes in unruly strands, his bangs brushing the curve of his brow. His jacket was worn at the seams, patched with mismatched thread, and his boots had scuffs that spoke of long days on unforgiving streets. His posture was relaxed, one shoulder against the stall, one hand shoved in his pocket, but his eyes… his eyes were sharp, like glass reflecting firelight. They scanned without seeming to, noting things others would overlook.
When he laughed at something the vendor said, it was genuine—unguarded, warm. The sound tugged at Haru’s chest, something unfamiliar tightening in her circuits.
Then his gaze shifted. Landed on her.
“Hey. You okay?”
The words were casual, but they hit her like a system error.
She pulled the hood lower over her face. The scarf scratched awkwardly against the edge of her neck plating, but it would hide the seams. Her fingers twitched, adjusting the sleeves of the oversized jacket until they covered the strange angles of her wrists.
One breath. Not real, but steady. One step forward.
The alley opened into a bustling street.
Haru froze.
The city was alive.
Towering skyscrapers blazed with neon signs, words and symbols her processors struggled to interpret, flickering advertisements dancing across glass walls. Crowds of humans flowed along the sidewalks like a river, their chatter overlapping into a chaotic chorus. Vehicles hummed and roared past on glowing wheels, leaving streaks of light in their wake. The air buzzed with energy, thick with the hum of machines and the warmth of countless lives moving at once.
Her HUD stuttered, overwhelmed. Trajectories, distances, voice patterns—too much information, all colliding in her vision. She shut it off with a shiver, leaving only the raw, unfiltered view. It was dizzying. Terrifying. Beautiful.
No one looked at her. Not yet. To them, she was just another shadow in the current of people.
I’m… in the world outside, she thought, the words halting, mechanical, yet filled with awe. I’m… free?
She took another step, sneakers scraping against the concrete. The humans nearby shifted naturally to make space, not even glancing her way. Her hood kept her hidden. Her scarf muffled the faint hum of her voice-box when she pretended to breathe.
For a moment, she dared to believe she belonged.
But then—
“Security patrol! Out of the way!”
A shout ripped down the street, sharp and commanding. Haru’s sensors flared. At the far end of the avenue, uniformed guards pushed through the crowd, holding strange weapons, eyes scanning every face. Red warning lights blinked on their suits, marking them as hunters.
Her circuits buzzed with panic. They were looking for her.
Haru slipped into the flow of people, trying to move like them, to mirror their rhythm. One foot after the other. Shoulders hunched. Don’t look. Don’t run. Just walk.
Every step felt like balancing on a blade. Her processors screamed calculations: probability of detection, vectors of escape, optimal hiding spots. But instinct overrode logic. She kept walking, following the crowd across the intersection, neon lights flickering across her hood.
One guard’s gaze swept toward her. Her breath hitched—mechanical, sharp.
But the crowd surged between them, and his attention shifted away.
Haru’s pace quickened. She turned down a side street, slipping deeper into the city’s veins. Her body trembled, every circuit alive with tension. She was no longer trapped in darkness. No longer just a machine among the lifeless.
She was among humans.
And if she wanted to survive, she would have to become one of them.
The side street was quieter, narrower. Neon bled into softer hues here—dim shop fronts, scattered stalls, her sensor picked up fried food being cooked nearby. The noise of the main avenue dulled to a distant roar, leaving only murmurs of late-night life.
Haru slowed her pace, her processors humming with constant recalculations. The guards’ boots still echoed faintly in the distance, but probability vectors dropped with each step she took. Safer. For now.
It was the young man leaning lazily against the counter.
He looked about her age—if she had one. Black hair fell into his eyes in unruly strands, his bangs brushing the curve of his brow. His jacket was worn at the seams, patched with mismatched thread, and his boots had scuffs that spoke of long days on unforgiving streets. His posture was relaxed, one shoulder against the stall, one hand shoved in his pocket, but his eyes… his eyes were sharp, like glass reflecting firelight. They scanned without seeming to, noting things others would overlook.
When he laughed at something the vendor said, it was genuine—unguarded, warm. The sound tugged at Haru’s chest, something unfamiliar tightening in her circuits.
Then his gaze shifted. Landed on her.
“Hey. You okay?”
The words were casual, but they hit her like a system error.
Her processors scrambled. Response required. Human communication.
“…Y-yes.”
Too flat. Too sharp. The wrong shape of a human word.
Her circuits shrieked. If he looked too closely—if he asked too much—
“…No. Not lost,” she forced out, stiff as stone.
But instead of letting her go, he studied her. His gaze flicked over her oversized hood, the scarf pulled too tightly, her twitching hands that didn’t seem to know how to rest. Suspicion glimmered in his eyes—but not fear. Concern.
“You don’t… look fine,” he said quietly, his tone shifting. “You’re shaking. Where’s your family? Do you have a place to stay? Name's Kaito, by the way.”
Her HUD flashed red. Heat signatures. Heavy boots. The patrol was closing in.
Panic roared through her frame. She pulled the scarf higher, voice modulating into something harsh, clipped: “No help. I'm… fine.”
He blinked, startled. Then the guards’ voices carried down the street.
“Security patrol! Sweep this block!”
The man cursed under his breath, tugging his hood up. “Damn patrols.” He glanced back at Haru—and hesitated. Something in her posture, the way she flinched at the sound of boots, told him more than her words ever could.
Kaito’s hand snapped out—not grabbing, just brushing her sleeve. His voice dropped to a whisper sharp as a blade.
“Keep low!” he hissed over his shoulder.
Haru followed, movements stiff and mechanical, but fast. Neon signs buzzed overhead, stuttering out broken words as they sprinted beneath them. The patrol’s shouts echoed closer, beams of flashlights sweeping through the maze of side streets.
Kaito ducked suddenly, pulling her into a narrow passage between two buildings. The walls pressed close, dripping with condensation. They pushed deeper, until the alley split into shadows and trash heaps. He shoved a toppled crate aside and crouched behind it, gesturing for her to follow.
“Down, now.”
She obeyed, heart—core—thrumming in sync with the pounding boots that rattled the pavement just beyond.
The patrol stormed past. Flashlights flared, sweeping the street, catching on rain-slick cobblestones and broken glass. One beam cut dangerously close, illuminating the tips of Haru’s fingers where they clutched the ground. Her processors screamed alarms, but Kaito pressed a steady hand to her shoulder—wordless, grounding.
The beam shifted. The boots carried on.
“Sector clear! Move out!”
Their voices faded, swallowed by the storm of the city. The only sound left was the water dripping off rusted signs, the uneven thud of her core, and Kaito’s breath—calm, steady, unshaken.
He leaned back against the wall, grinning like it had been nothing. “See? Easy.”
Easy. For him, maybe. Her systems were still vibrating with warnings, every circuit burning with the command to run.
Kaito stood, brushed dust off his patched jacket, and jerked his chin toward the far end of the alley. “Come on. Patrols sweep here all night. I’ve got a place—you’ll be safe there.”
She hesitated, processors weighing risks, then gave the smallest nod.
They ran again, slower this time, weaving through the backstreets. Past sagging balconies where laundry hung like damp flags. Past walls plastered with peeling posters that bled neon ink. Across a bridge that spanned a canal black with oil.
At last, Kaito stopped at a squat warehouse wedged between two collapsing apartment blocks. He fished a key from a chain around his neck, slid it into the side door, and shouldered it open.
Inside was dim but warmer—lit by a single lantern hanging from a beam. Shelves sagged under canned food and bottled water. A bedroll lay in the corner, blankets piled high. Tools and half-broken electronics cluttered a workbench against the wall.
“Home sweet hideout,” Kaito said with a crooked grin, holding the door for her.
Haru hesitated before steeping inside.
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