I’m the worst.

I don’t remember the rest of what happened at the store. But I remember what happened after: I ran. I ran, and ran, with the summer heat on my heels, ran, skirting corners and clumsily racing down alleys. If the AI spoke to me, I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t really hear anything. There were no birds singing or wind blowing. There was just me, my pathetic heart, my cruel thoughts, and that agonizing shame.

I flew up the steps to my apartment. I nearly tripped over the last one. I dashed into my door, struggling with the doorknob, remembering I had to use my key, fumbling that too, and barreled back into my home, in all of its musty comfort. I didn’t even bother taking my shoes off.

When people feel scared, or threatened, or hurt, they go home. They go to their families. They talk about what happened, and the pain that they felt gets ebbed away by love and care. I can’t remember when I had that last. I don’t know if I even did, ever. All I had now was the room. My fortress of trash. My palace of empty cartons and stained clothes. My home.

I collapsed onto the floor. I wanted to cry. I wanted to let the tears flow down my face and spill onto my futon. I was also mad. I wanted to power my fist through the wall, again and again, pummeling it into the ground, picking it up, throwing it back down again until it shattered into pieces smaller than fragments. But as much as I fantasized, I didn’t twitch a muscle. I didn’t have a right to be angry, or sad, or anything. It was my fault – I was the worst.

I crawled into my sheets, covering myself entirely like a bug in a cocoon. It was so comfortable; so cozy. Like a suit of armor in the MMORPGs I played – in it, I was unhurtable. Nothing could reach me. Nothing could hurt me.

“If it’s here, I…”

I wouldn’t mind dying.

A dull chill pulsed from the back of my head, as if someone’d pressed an ice pack to it. Maybe I was saying things just to say things. But those words; they felt so… real. As if I’d spoken them from my soul. The ultimate truth.

I thought about it more. I never asked to be born. I never asked to be spurned by life – by the world. Maybe what happened at the convenience store was my fault, but it was the world’s for conditioning me that way. To respond, with knives out, to anything it threw me. It was what I always knew. But if that wouldn’t work anymore, the only agency I had in my life…

Was to end it.

I heard a great whooshing from the door, as if a jet engine had suddenly passed by. I peeked out from between my covers. It was the AI, and she looked furious – she had a cold rage that froze my blood, and carried a disdain that made my bones brittle. “What the hell was that?” She growled, that robotic tinge to her voice accentuated. “You were doing fine. Everything was fine. I had the rest under control. All I asked of you was to not panic, to not act like a child – and you couldn’t even accomplish that simple task?”

“Piss off.”

She recoiled slightly. “Excuse me? I’m the one pushing you to do everything. Pushing you to go out, to not starve yourself. I can’t believe you even have the gall to speak like that. I’m basically doing all the work!”

“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” I yelled, throwing the sheets off my body. “All you had to do was ONE thing. ONE! Don’t let me see them, those things, the people–” I started coughing uncontrollably like I was choking. When I finished, I gazed at her with loathing eyes. That was right. It was her fault. She couldn’t do anything in the end; she was just like the rest of them. AI or not, all she offered was a band-aid, not a real way to help. And she didn’t even have the courtesy to rip it off at the right time.

It looked like her immediate reaction was to ready another retort, so I retreated back under the covers, prepared for the harshness; but to my confusion, I heard nothing. I peeked out from a small gap, sucking in a gasp. What the hell? She looked dour. Hurt.

“...I apologize.” Her voice was low. Quiet, like a fleeting spring. “The wiring connecting my mainframe to your occipital lobe got loose. Disconnected, momentarily. The signals I was sending to your nerves weren’t reaching. That was why…” She shook her head. “No. I can’t be making excuses. I’m sorry, but what you saw – all they were, were people. Just ordinary people. Why did you act the way you did?”

It doesn’t matter. It felt right. I didn’t know what else to do. All of those answers, and yet, not a single one left my lips. “If you’re here to help, then listen up. The best thing you can do right now… is to shut the fuck up and leave me alone.”

I didn’t care for her reaction. I didn’t care if she searched my memories, or looked at me with that synthetic hurt in her eyes, or straight up disappeared. I just wanted to sink into the dark. To be consumed by that black, oblivious silence.

…

(Gugu12) yo

(Gugu12) idk why im telling u this but

(Gugu12) ur the only one who might not shit on me for this, cuz ur dead n all

(Gugu12) ive been thinking lately

(Gugu12) the bus u took to hell, does it take any more passengers?

My cursor blinked as I waited for a few seconds. No response.

I sighed. I didn’t know what else I expected, honestly. Luda never really responded to anyone. He forced his way into conversations, like a wedge, and left just as quickly. Out of all of us, he was the most bitter; but also the most honest. The one least afraid to speak his mind, even though what came out was largely garbled rants of hate and spite.

I tabbed back to the group chat. It was fairly early in the morning, so no one was awake. I didn’t sleep at all yesterday. Not after what happened. The AI, thankfully, obliged my request to leave me alone. I was finally able to…

Well, not like it mattered. Nothing felt like it did. Before yesterday, I was able to fool myself into believing the opposite; now, everything I did just felt like a distraction. But I didn’t know what I was being distracted from – something in me just felt hollow. I won’t be so pompous to say “devoid of life,” but it was just… devoid of anything.

I found my eyes wandering to the AI. She sat on the window-wall, opposite of my figures. A weird one, she was. At times her eyes glazed over in a digital sheen, while at others, they were staring straight at my Miku figs, as if she were having a silent conversation with them. Never once had she’d attempted to say something to me. At least that was a promise she could keep. Guess she really did give up.

(Gugu12) anyone on

(Kunene) ye

(Kunene) y

Great. I wanted to talk to someone about what happened, but Nene? She was my last choice. Only Luda was more of an asshole than her, and I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood to get talked down to.

(Kunene) ????????

(Kunene) say something wtf

(Gugu12) Nene ur a jackass so idk if i can talk to u abt this

(Kunene) ok well fuck u too ig

(Kunene) kys

(Gugu12) im so serious rn

(Kunene) dude just speak

(Kunene) i dont rlly give a shit either way so just say what u wanna say

(Gugu12) dont flame me for this

(Gugu12) I went outside yesterday

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

For no reason, I found my body tense. I expected a remark, a response, a reaction. But I got nothing. Between her tirades and bouts of unrelenting belittling, I forget that Nene could take things seriously – things that weren’t eroges or doujins, anyway.

(Kunene) go on

(Gugu12) i was going to buy some food, since i got rlly hungry, and i didnt think i could hold out for delivery

(Gugu12) so I went to the store and bought some ramen

(Gugu12) but i fucked up and completely fucking embarrassed myself

(Gugu12) i dont even know what to say right now

(Gugu12) if i cant even buy a single pack of ramen what can i even do

(Gugu12) like is there even a point to me like

(Gugu12) to just live at this point

(Gugu12) im fkn worthless dude

(Gugu12) nothing I do will ever be right

(Gugu12) i was fucked from birth and i cant do shit abt it and every time i try it just blows back up in my face

(Kunene) so ur planning to join Luda then

(Kunene) thats srsly what ur gonna do

I took my hands off the keyboard for a second, rubbing my temple. She saw right through me. I didn’t know how to answer that. Maybe I just wanted to rant. To vent my angst, my self-hatred. But at the end of the day, I don’t know if I want to die. I’m just getting tired of living.

(Kunene) look

(Kunene) im not gonna pretend to be buddy buddy and sympathetic and tell u i know how u feel cuz id be lying

(Kunene) ive been shut-in prolly longer than uve been an adult

(Kunene) and id like to think my eye for spotting hikki like me is good

(Kunene) and that eye tells me, u dont belong here

(Kunene) ur not as far off the deep end as Luda was, ur not as degen as me or Regrear, and ur not as psychotic as Agrif

(Kunene) honestly if u just left and tried u probs cld dig urself out of this hole

(Kunene) just live lol

(Gugu12) is it rlly that simple tho

(Kunene) yes

(Kunene) but difficulty is another matter entirely

I typed a bit more, but deleted everything before I sent it. In the end, I didn’t say another word. Minutes passed. I only stared at her last messages, each fluorescent letter burning into my retinas. I can’t believe it was Nene trying to talk me into living. For someone so abrasive, her telling me not to end my life was the last thing I expected from her. But maybe that aggression was just a front – maybe this was the real Nene.

It was doubtful that Nene really cared for stopping me. We’d only known each other for a few months, and through a screen. All I knew was the simulacrum of Kunene; likewise, she only knew the simulacrum of Gugu12. But if it were me, I probably would’ve done the same; though not because I cared deeply for her, or anything. I wouldn’t mind dying myself. If other people around me did… I don’t know. I guess it’d eat away at me, just a little bit. My lips parted for a humorless laugh. What kind of sick ego was that?

The computer dimmed a little bit, then went black. Asleep from inactivity. Now, there was no light in my room – nothing at all. I reclined back onto the floor until I laid down again, staring at the barely-visible ceiling fan. I could hear the birds outside start their morning melodies, and the silent humming of cars from the road. People lived. Life went on. My arm fell on my face, resting across my eyes. It rose and fell with my breaths, like a raft on the vast ocean. My desire from earlier returned, but this time I fulfilled it: I cried. And didn’t realize it until the tears stained the tatami, streaking down my paper-white face, leaving wet splotches on the floor.

I was the worst.

Through my obstructed eyes, I barely saw the computer boot back on again, accompanied by a scant few mechanical whirrs and clicks. I paid it no mind. It was probably just some system error, update, or whatnot. That is, until I heard a reticent sigh from its direction.

“This Nene person,” Said the familiar voice of the AI. The first words I’d heard in days. “She’s awfully arrogant, isn’t she?”

My lip quivered. “What?”

“She claims the opposite, but you two – you’re both one and the same. Hikikomori. Shut-ins. Really, who does she think she is, telling you to ‘just live?’ When she probably won’t be able to do so herself, given a few more months or years? When that isn’t hardly enough?” The robotic static in her voice returned. She sounded pissed. “How absolutely foolish. Thinking that that’s all you need to do. Saying it’s simple. Saying it’s easy.”

“At least she said something!” I bursted, seething. “What were you doing? This entire time, all you’ve done was nag me, pressure me, poke all my buttons and expect me to magically get better; you’ve done NOTHING to actually help! Not a single word of reassurance, encouragement, anything like that! Hell, you don’t even care if I live or die! So fuckin’ blow me when someone shows that they do! It’s better than anything you’ve done! Better than anything anyone else’d done!”

“Surface-level remarks like that – that’s really enough to catch your attention?” She spat out. “It’s like fast food! It’s not a permanent fix, not a solution! If those words were all it took to fix someone, then I would’ve used them from the beginning. But they’re not enough!” The skin on her face began to flush red. “That’s why I’ve been prodding, nagging, everything! It’s not up to me if you change or not. You need to find the answer yourself: why do I live? Why should I keep living? Now you tell me if that’s easy.”

“There it is. There it is!” I groaned. “Fix. You’re talking to me like I’m a problem! Like I’m just an error to be corrected! Like I’m a zero supposed to be a one!” I pointed to the computer, my finger shaking. “They understand. They get me! They know how it feels, to be downtrodden, to be me. You don’t! So don’t you dare try and downplay them–”

“You haven’t even seen them face-to-face!”

“That doesn’t matter!”

“It does!” She balled a hand into a fist. “How can you be so foolish – so absolutely blind – to be hooked onto those words, just like that? They’re not real! They might as well be imaginary friends, or figments of your imagination!”

“So what does that make you?!” That took her aback. “You’re an invader in my own mind, something that only exists in my head! At least with Agrif, Regrear, Nene – I know they exist, and they’re going through the same things I am. The same life. The same thoughts. The same struggles. You have absolutely no right to belittle their words! You have NO RIGHT!”

The AI shook her head furiously. “You can’t be swayed by their words forever. They’re going to mean less and less, until eventually, they mean nothing at all. And when that day comes… When it comes, you will die. You will die because you struggle without meaning, intoxicating yourself with their words, and will never learn to grow up and act for yourself. It’s not as easy as she says. It’s not enough to just live! You have to have something to strive for!”

“Said who?!” I yelled. “Said who?!”

A delicate silence hung in the air, suspended, frozen. As frail as the dewdrop dipping down from the leaf, but as tense as a loaded, pointed gun. The AI’s fist came undone, and her arms merely dropped to her side. She let out a heavy sigh, before finally looking at me with weary, strained eyes. “Says the data from the other 10 EMPHAI-proto models.”

“What?”

“They were all failures,” She said. Her voice was tinged with a bitter, razor-like edge. “ID-0000001. ID-0000002. Three, four, all of them.”

“But–”

“I lied.” I was frozen in disbelief. Failures? No, that wasn’t even the most pressing matter. This robot, this AI – it lied? “Most of the patients ended up quitting the treatment midway through. At this stage, no less. When the other EMPHAIs had urged them to take action, most of them outright refused; some of them followed through, much like you, only to relapse one way or another. Only one made it past – the one assigned to ID-0000009. But he was different. And in the worst way possible.

He was filled to the brim with spite. With hate. He hated this world so much that he wouldn’t let it take him. That, out of spite, he’d keep on living, just because he could. ID-0000009 tried to talk him out of it, but that didn’t work. And it wasn’t at all what our creator envisioned a ‘success’ to look like. ID-0000010 was a step back – the program tried to do too much at once, and ended up imploding and frying itself. So he made me different; he made me, in a way, ‘sentient.’”

“So that’s your reason?” I said. “That’s your excuse for lying?”

She looked away from me, eyes affixed to my monitor. “I thought by telling you that they’d all succeeded, you’d feel obliged to do the same.”

“There it is again. ‘Fix.’ ‘Obliged.’ Telling me that I ‘have to do this,’ or ‘other people have done that–’ that my condition’s just something that could be solved with a snap. For people like me, it’s all we can do to just live. So saying that it’s wrong to aim for that alone – it pisses me off.”

“Well what do you want to do?” She said, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “At this rate, you’re not going to change. I can say all I want, but nothing’ll reach you. Do you want to stay like this forever?”

“...At this point, I don’t know.” My mind went all the way back to Nene’s words. “Nene said, if it was me, I could dig myself out of this rut, this hole. That I could change. But I just can’t believe that. I want to do something, but you saw yesterday. You saw it yourself! At this point, it’s all I can do to live this life – it’s all I can do to just live.”

Another silence. I still felt like there was something else I had to say, something to add on. But I couldn’t find the words. The AI must’ve felt the same way.

“Nene never called it easy.” I finally said. “All she said was that it was simple. Not that it was easy. Maybe it’s not enough for you. But for me–” The words sputtered out of my mouth, dying in the air. I couldn’t finish. I didn’t have the strength to.

“Perhaps you have a point,” She said. Her voice softened. “I can’t force you to act. I can’t force you to listen to me. But if living – the struggle to cling to life – is all you can manage, then maybe, it’s all I can do to support you.” She turned back to the computer. She hesitated before she spoke again. “Maybe that’s what Kunene meant. The idea to just live, that’s simple. But the struggle, the act of living; for the you of ‘right now,’ maybe that’s enough. And if I can’t help, well…”

She didn’t say another word after that. It sounded like she finally agreed with me, but even so, I still felt hollow. Like there were words left unsaid. Her gaze was still locked onto the chat, eyeing Nene’s messages, like she was still pondering their meaning. Like there was a distance of a thousand yards between us in that small, small room.