Chapter Two: Rika

These streets were alien to her. So alien, and yet, had been right under her nose. Her heart pounded as she belted through damp alleyways alone, a slave to the darkness as she blundered. She was dead. As soon as they found her, she was dead. 

She had tried to hide it. Tried so desperately, to avoid reality. To avoid the fact that she was never going to be the Rika they thought they knew. And her heart cried for it.

Traversing the bustling streets of Tokyo, her tears that fell like glass attracted the ingenuine comforts of strange men,  insisting they could make her feel better. So distraught, she avoided these invitations that would have made her cringe, had she focused on them. The lights of Tokyo blurred, the scattered holograms feeling more empty and the bipedal androids feeling less human than they did before.

She stopped at a fast-food store, but the burger she ordered tasted like cardboard in her mouth, and the salt of the fries stung her throat with malice.

So she walked.

She walked for hours on end, hopelessly, aimlessly, until she started to approach strange provinces of Tokyo where the signs flashed and malfunctioned, and the buildings cracked with age. Shadowy figures traipsed past her, sometimes dangerously close, but she remained oblivious as silent water trickled down her cheeks. The drains overflowed with water as summer rain poured on late into the night.

The sky was dark. In this part of town, where the light pollution was less, as she looked up, and the rain started to clear, the dark clouds parted, and Rika swore she could see a star.

The people of Tokyo in twenty-one-seventy-seven didn't see stars. Their stars came from  holograms projecting cosmic images onto their ceilings, or the thousands of identical white-lighted windows that stretched across the mecha-skyscrapers of the city. Their stars were artificial, and yet they still had a twisted beauty to them.

But as Rika stared up at this one star, the one star she was sure she could see twinkling above, she could assure anyone: nothing beats the real thing.

She wiped a last drop from her tear duct, the sight of the little sign of the old world calming her down enough to notice her stomach rumbling.

She looked around, at the number of dingy shops in the surrounding area that might have offered food. She eyed a convenience store, and read the flickering hologram advertising a special offer.

Two for one chocolate bars seemed like exactly what she needed.

As she entered the small box-sized shop, she almost drooled over the selection of chocolate.

“I recommend the dark chocolate with toffee. It’s the regulars’ favourite,” a gentle voice from behind her recommended.

She turned around, her eyes meeting with those of an old lady with a warm smile. The kindness of her voice, compared with what she had been met with for some time now, was enough for her eyes to start welling again.

“Oh dear, what ever is the matter?” The lady asked, concern written in her wrinkles that crinkled as she frowned.

Rika sniffed as she wiped her eyes.

“You would hate me if I told you.”

“I am certain nothing you have done could make me hate you,” the old lady replied, taking Rika outside to sit on the damp street curb with her. She had trouble sitting down so low, so Rika helped her.

“You’re soaking! I’d offer you a hot pork bun, but some scoundrel took the last ones only fifteen minutes ago…”

“It’s fine…um…” Rika paused, unable to think of the correct terminology to address the woman with.

“You can call me Mrs. Satō, sweet girl.”

“Well, you see Mrs. Satō. I’m, well, not like most of society. Like the one thing we’re all obsessed with? I don’t have it.” Rika said reluctantly, fiddling with her fingers.

“Ah,” said Mrs. Satō, “You’re soulless.”

“I hate that word so much.”

Mrs. Satō held Rika’s arm that was wrapped right around her knees, almost like a safety measure.

“I’m soulless too, sweet girl. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Rika smiled gratefully and held Mrs. Satō’s hand, but her mind sprung a question.

“Do you mind me asking, Mrs. Satō.” She paused, debating whether her question would be appropriate. “If you’re soulless, how come your title is ‘Mrs’?”

Mrs. Satō seemed softly confident in her thoughts as she addressed Rika’s question.

“Just because you’re soulless, dear, doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love.”

She pressed her palm to Rika’s heart.

“Hear that? It’s still beating. You’re still human… remember that.”

Rika’s tears re-emerged as affirmation of her right to exist was given to her for the first time since her situation was revealed to the world. She paid for her chocolate, and waved a grateful goodbye to Mrs. Satō, rethinking her approach to her getaway plan.

First of all, she would have to find shelter for the night. She would be no good in some damp gutter freezing to death. She scanned the buildings around her. A laundrette, a hairdressers, a nail salon. Not exactly places she could crash until morning. 

Her eye caught a tall building. Badged with a sign that read “Lucky Cat Casino”, it’s lights flickered on and off, and seemed smothered in parts with a thick layer of ivy, that grew across other parts of the building. There were windows, but no light could be seen emanating from them. The building seemed long abandoned, a relic from the old world to remind people that once upon a time, not all signs were holo and not all buildings were maintained by artificial intelligence. 

It wasn't five stars, but it would keep her from freezing to death. 

She clutched her soaked shoulders and ran across the street towards the building. Inspecting a front door, and trying to push it, she was only met with the stiffness of an unknown, heavy barrier blocking her entrance from the other side. 

Strange, she thought, maybe someone used to live here?

She investigated back doors on the sides of the building, and, to her relief, a rusted staircase stood to the far end of the left hand side of the building.

Rika grimaced at the thought of ascending up those death-trap stairs, but gingerly tested it nonetheless with her foot. The first step held, to her great relief. Proceeding slowly up the old stairs, it took her about five minutes to reach the very top, where she was met with another door. She tried it hesitantly, and this one, finally, budged. 

What a night. 

Rika was ready to collapse on the floor immediately, her body aching with exhaustion. But as she slid down an inner wall, eyes closed, on the verge of sleep, she was regretfully disturbed.

“Mph-mph mph!” she heard.

Her eyes shot open to identify the source of the noise. 

There, with a fistful of pork bun filling his cheeks like a hamster, was a boy.