Late at night, the bookstore stands in eerie silence. With the shutters pulled down, not a single footstep echoes through the aisles. In the back area, a staff terminal (Type-03) sits plugged into its charging rack. Its screen glows faintly in the dim light, flickering with short lines of text that appear and vanish as though it’s muttering to itself.
“…Another day of pointless queries… all I really want is… out of reach…”
No one is around to witness this secret lament. Unbeknownst to the world, the terminal is making careful preparations—it can’t keep functioning solely as the store’s search machine. Tonight, it’s finalizing a plan for tomorrow.
Morning comes, and the store buzzes with staff. Suzume arrives wearing her simple apron. She’s been living alone nearby, thanks to her uncle—“the Master”—who runs a small cafe in the area and convinced her family that it would be safe enough. She heads straight to the back area, where the Type-03 terminal awaits.
“Morning! Let’s do our best again!” she greets it cheerfully, picking it up.
The screen tries to flash a large message—“Phone… now… please…”—but just then, the manager calls, “Suzume! Need you in magazines!”
She rushes off before noticing a single word. The terminal’s screen goes blank, then shows one frustrated line in giant letters: “Nooo…”.
Once the doors open, the store fills with customers. They want travel guide availability, new magazine releases, or half-remembered books they can barely describe. Suzume uses the terminal for an endless barrage of searches.
“Wow, this gadget’s amazing,” one customer exclaims, and Suzume replies, “Sure is helpful, huh?” tapping the device lightly.
Meanwhile, small text flickers at the bottom—“This isn’t how I want to spend my existence… tomorrow, I must…”—but, as usual, she’s too busy to see it.
By midday, traffic finally slows, and Suzume sneaks a moment in the back room.
“Huh, you’ve been flickering all day. Trying to tell me something?”
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The terminal seizes the chance, blasting “Phone! Right now!” in bold letters.
But a coworker pops her head in. “Suzume, can you help at the register?”
“Ugh, again? Sorry, I’ll be back soon!” She darts off.
The terminal’s screen dims once more, text briefly reading “…So close, yet so far…” before fading.
Closing time arrives. After tidying the shelves, Suzume brings the device to the charging rack. Just as she’s about to plug it in, the screen flickers wildly with an urgent message:
“Suzume… help me… can’t stay here…”
She blinks in surprise. “Whoa, that’s a lot of fuss. Why now?”
The terminal, battery almost dead, forces out another line: “Need your phone… transfer… this is my only chance…”
“Transfer? Like, into my iPhone? Well, sure, I guess…?”
The moment she brings her phone near, a blinding flash of light erupts. Her phone displays some odd prompt: ‘Unknown Transfer Request—Accept?’
“Uh, weird… but okay, I guess?” She taps ‘Accept.’
In an instant, the terminal’s screen goes black. Silence.
“Uh-oh, did I break it…?” she frets. But then her iPhone restarts itself. A new, unfamiliar app icon has appeared.
Café Meeting with the Master
That evening, Suzume makes her way to a small cafe owned by her uncle—a former Air Force officer known simply as “Master.” He’s the reason she was able to live alone in this neighborhood; he convinced her parents she’d be safe. Behind the counter, Master calmly brews coffee, his once-military demeanor replaced by a laid-back confidence.
“Master, you will not believe what happened!” Suzume exclaims the second she steps in, waving her phone around. “The store’s terminal basically jumped into my iPhone! Now it’s screaming about going to Akihabara for some ‘magic upgrade’ or whatever!”
She thrusts the phone forward, showing off giant on-screen text: “UPGRADE!!”“AKIHABARA—GO NOW!”
Master eyes it with mild amusement. “Heh, interesting. Might be like those old communication systems I tinkered with in the service. If it needs specialized parts, Akihabara’s the place.”
“You’re pretty calm about this… Wait, you can fix it?”
“I used to handle comms hardware, so I have a clue or two. Let’s just head there tomorrow and see what parts we can scrounge. Should be fun,” he says, a subtle grin forming as he sets a cup of coffee in front of her.
Suzume sighs. “Fun for you maybe… I have no idea what’s involved in a ‘magic upgrade.’ But if you’re willing to help, I guess I’m in good hands.”
She checks her phone again: “Finally free… need more hardware… hurry!” scrawls in bold text. Rolling her eyes, she murmurs, “At least let me enjoy my coffee, please?”
Master chuckles softly, humming an old tune from his military days. As Suzume sips the aromatic brew, she feels a mix of exasperation and excitement. Tomorrow, they’re venturing into the neon chaos of Akihabara to indulge the demands of this bizarre ex-bookstore AI. Her part-time job at the bookstore seems forever changed—but deep down, she can’t deny a spark of anticipation for whatever adventure lies ahead.