You're a phenomenon yet to be fully comprehended

"I'm telling you Noa, they're going to end up together."

"And I'm telling you the structure of the show is clearly setting him up for failure. He's been too successful recently. It's just build-up for a dramatic rejection."

The pleasant ocean breeze brushes past us, humming alongside the ebb and flow of the waves. We decided to go to work early again, leaving the sun a few more minutes before it touches the horizon. Our district's beach is often empty, largely due to the place being filled with rocks instead of sand, but there are still benches set up for those who wish to watch the sunset.

"Oh look, Weathers is there again."

On one of the benches sits an old man by his lonesome. He has graying, unkempt hair and tattered clothes. Where his eyes would be is a visor with a bluish tint to it. He looks out to the ocean, wordless and unmoving, with an impeccable sitting posture.

"I suppose that means we'll be heaving good weather for the remainder of the day then."

"I didn't know you were the superstitious type, Noa."

"...? Superstitions are misinterpreted correlations between separate occurrences. They often stem from culture or antiquated beliefs. I don't particularly put faith in such things."

"Then what about Weathers? Everyone from here knows about the nameless old man who sits by the beach but mysteriously disappears when a storm is coming. He's a living local superstition."

"Except he's not a superstition since he's never been wrong before."

"He probably just checks the weather forecast on his rPhone like everyone else and calls it a day if it's starting to look bad."

"Gin, he disappears hours before a flash storm notification is sent. Even the most advanced forecast systems can't predict when a flash storm will occur until it actually occurs."

"Well if we can't prove how he does it, doesn't that still count as superstition?"

"No, it just means it's a phenomenon yet to be fully comprehended."

"You're a phenomenon yet to be fully comprehended."

"I'd take offense to that but considering my fragmented past, I have to agree."

There are more people out and about, not enough to crowd but the footsteps and chatter sound louder than usual. It's a Saturday evening after all so it's to be expected. Through all the noise however, a particular set of feet is causing me to subconsciously hold my ground and take a fighting stance. A sort of instinct as a security android.

Threat detected.

"Noa? What are you doing?"

I keep my head facing forward, not daring to let my guard down at its approach. In my peripheral I see Gin's face, worried and confused. Mostly confused. I narrow my eyes and utter the creature's name.

"Dog."