Inside the pod.
The boy’s eyelids slowly drifted open.
Silver lashes swayed in the fluid, scattering bubbles one by one. His movements were hauntingly smooth, possessing an almost inhuman grace.
"...Hey, did you see that?" the Doctor whispered.
I nodded silently and stepped forward, instinctively putting myself in front of the Doctor to shield him. I couldn't shake the premonition that something was about to happen.
The boy inside the pod shifted his gaze toward us. His unfocused eyes gradually sharpened, pinning us where we stood.
Our eyes met.
I felt an indescribable sense of pressure. It wasn't hostility, nor was it fear. I was simply being watched—scrutinized.
I sensed some kind of emotion behind that gaze, but strangely, no Speech Bubbles appeared.
The silence lasted only a few seconds, yet it felt like an eternity.
Then, the boy gently reached out with his right hand. The solution rippled; bubbles danced. His finger met the inside of the glass with a soft tap.
Crack.
The sound was sharp. A tiny fissure appeared, then spider-webbed across the surface. A heartbeat later—
The glass shattered.
Shards and fluid sprayed outward, grazing my cheek. It was cold, and it smelled of something raw.
The Doctor clicked his tongue and scrambled back. I moved reflexively, stepping forward to catch the boy as he tumbled out.
He weighed almost nothing. His shoulders were slender, his body frigid. For a moment, I had the sickening illusion that I was holding a corpse.
The boy began to cough against my chest. A ragged, hacking sound as he forced the liquid out from deep within his lungs. His throat rattled until, finally, he regained his breath.
The sound of water dripping onto the floor echoed with strange clarity in the silence. Droplets trailed down his silver hair, which reflected the pale blue light like strands of fine silk.
Once his breathing stabilized, the boy slowly pulled away from me and stood.
He was completely naked, his white skin nearly translucent. His arms and legs were thin but possessed a delicate muscle tone. He looked like a porcelain doll. Whether the thing before us was alive or dead was impossible to tell just by looking.
I found myself holding my breath.
The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "...He’s like a work of art. A breathing statue."
The boy blinked slowly. His lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came out. His throat was too hoarse; only a faint wheeze of air escaped. He took several more breaths, laboring until he finally found his voice.
"...It’s been a long time."
A boy soprano. The voice was soft, clear, and high-pitched. His intonation was as quiet as a ripple on the water’s surface, yet it carried a haunting sense of nostalgia.
"...Huh?"
A pathetic sound escaped my throat. I didn't know this face. I didn't know this voice. And yet, it tugged at a buried corner of my memory.
Beside me, the Doctor shot me a glance. A silent question: Is he an acquaintance?
I slowly shook my head.
The boy lowered his eyes, a lonely smile touching his lips. "I see. I suppose it’s only natural. Not in this form."
He hugged himself, his narrow shoulders trembling. The way he brushed the wet hair from his cheek as if it were a nuisance was...
It was feminine.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly. Kaya Nor. ...The 'former partner' of the Repairman standing right there."
For a second, my mind went completely blank.
The Doctor let out a sharp, skeptical sound. "Hah? 'Former partner'? I’ve known the Repairman for years, but I’ve never heard of someone like that."
I didn't have the energy to answer him. The name was already reverberating through my skull.
"...Is it really you, Kaya?"
To my question, the boy—no, Kaya—gave a small nod. The gesture was exactly the same as it had been back then. After a moment of thought, the corner of his mouth curled up.
"Yeah. If I told you exactly where the moles are located on your body, would you believe me then?"
My breath hitched. My throat felt like it was closing up. For several seconds, I couldn't force a single word out.
The Doctor's brow furrowed. "Hey, hey, Repairman... what kind of past did you—"
"A very long time ago," Kaya answered for me. "Back when I was 'alive.' If you calculated my age based on the years that have passed, I’d probably be a grandmother by now."
He spoke with a sense of fondness, as if reminiscing about a cherished memory.
"...You’re supposed to be dead."
"I am. I died. It happened quite suddenly. My only salvation was being able to die in your arms at the very end."
A droplet fell from the tip of his hair. In the stillness, the sound was deafening.
The air in the lab turned ice-cold. Even the Doctor had stopped trying to make jokes.
"...By what logic are you even here like this?" I asked.
Kaya’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked up. He stared into the distance, as if looking through the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.
"Who knows? Sleeping, waking, dreaming... before I knew it, I was here. I might still be in the middle of a dream, for all I know."
The profile of his smiling face overlapped perfectly with the woman who had once laughed in my arms.
"...How does that body feel?" the Doctor finally asked.
"It’s a strange thing. I can breathe, but I can't hear a heartbeat. I feel warm, yet I can't sense heat. I'm like a machine pretending to be human."
A dry laugh punctuated the end of his sentence.
I couldn't say anything. I only knew that the being in front of me was "alive." I didn't want to think about the implications beyond that.
Kaya tilted his head slightly and looked up at me. "Hey, Rei. You've aged a bit, haven't you?"
"...Of course I have."
"Hehe. I like the current you, too. Humans live, they break, and they grow old. That's what makes them beautiful."
His voice was gentle, but I thought I saw a flicker of madness behind it. Was it his, or something else's?
The Doctor crossed his arms and muttered under his breath, "...Is this kid for real?"
I didn't answer. I didn't know.
But it was definitely Kaya.
The lab’s air conditioning hummed low, and the light reflecting off the spilled fluid illuminated Kaya’s feet. His shadow was undeniably human. Yet, his presence was so ethereal, so lacking in reality...
It was as if I were still trapped in a dream.