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Pochi couldn't understand why, but for over a week now, a bad feeling had clung to him like a wet blanket. It was an unsettling intuition that there was something deeply wrong—a "gut feeling," as Pai had put it.
He was told that humans experienced stomach aches when something bad was going to happen. At least, that's how he understood it. And he was experiencing whatever the robot-equivalent of that was.
It felt like his wires were all knotted together, jumbled up inside his core uncomfortably. It made it hard for him to relax, no matter how many times he "practised his breathing." Jennu had taught him that one. It wasn't working right now, though. Nothing he did would make the bad feeling go away. In fact, most things just made it worse.
He fumbled with the pencil in his hands instead of drawing. The print in the books on his shelf felt too small, or too big, and whenever he tried to focus on the lines it felt like there was someone reading over his shoulder. It was too distracting.
The teachers told him he needed to rehearse his spelling. He always skipped letters, like his system was trying to crunch down the words to make them smaller. He made stupid mistakes when he should know better.
Just like he should know why everything felt so wrong.
Dinner had come and gone. Normally, he and Reycho would sip on a special solution concocted by Nyoro's dad to help keep their systems clean. Mostly they just sat at the table and doodled in their notebooks while Nyoro and her dad chatted between bites. It was a little awkward at first, but they had all gotten used to the routine after a while.
Sometimes he and Reycho played a game in the living room while they ate. But Reycho hadn't wanted to play today.
The knot in Pochi's stomach tightened.
He felt like he had lost his balance with Reycho recently. Not in the least because Reycho had literally shoved him yesterday.
Pochi rubbed his cheek. Yuki had helped him mend the plating, but he still felt weird. It's not like it had even really hurt, but the fall had frightened him. Nothing like that had happened to him since they'd defeated MAIK.
"I'm sorry for pushing you," Reycho mumbled as he stared at his feet. "I don't know what came over me."
There were a lot of things Pochi had wanted to say. But he'd shoved all of it aside.
True to his word, Reycho did seem very remorseful. He held his hands behind his back like he was ashamed of what they had done. Beneath the visor of his hat, his eyes were barely visible but it almost looked like he was going to cry.
He found it a little ironic, in retrospect.
In the grand scheme of things, Pochi supposed that he deserved a little more than a shove.
He had gotten Reycho killed, after all.
They didn't talk about it. Pochi didn't really know how much he remembered. He was a little afraid to ask.
Regardless, Pochi couldn't stay mad at Reycho. Internally, he doubted there was anything Reycho could do that he wouldn't forgive.
Overcome with emotion, he surged forward and captured Reycho in a hug. His counterpart stiffened in the embrace.
Pochi had expected him to eventually relax and hug him back, but Reycho remained completely still. He kept his arms pinned firmly behind his back. Pochi even loosened his grasp in fear of perhaps his grip being too constricting, although in hindsight the probability was unlikely. Reycho still had not moved.
It was like he was just waiting for it to be over.
...Hugs were supposed to be comforting, weren't they?
Pochi leaned back, grasping Reycho by the shoulders. He stared at his face. Reycho's eyes were wide.
Of them all, he was probably the most expressive. Something in his personality left over from when he had been... mute.
But Pochi couldn't understand what he was feeling, even when he rewound the moment again and again. He tried to make a connection, but there were no dots to follow. He set his mouth firm and let go.
Reycho kept his arms behind his back.
Pochi stepped away from him. There was something deeply wrong with this interaction. It needed to end.
He was too perplexed to say anything, so he had simply retreated to his room. Reycho stood outside his door for a moment before finally walking away.
It had taken him a long time to enter stasis that night.
...just like it was taking him a long time now.
...
Today had been... better.
Things were less stilted. The awkwardness between the two of them had mostly retreated. Reycho asked him to help him tie his shoes this morning, like he always did.
Pochi couldn't help but notice he'd been sitting on his hands.
But he brushed it off, just like he'd tried to brush off the bad feeling. He refused to stew on it. The data was either indecipherable, or entirely false.
He did try to reach out to them , but... he didn't get a response. So he convinced himself he was just being a worrywart.
Surely, if it was them, they would have said something by now.
"That cloud looks like you, Pochi."
Reycho pointed outside the car window and glanced back at him with a grin.
Even now, Pochi couldn't keep himself from smiling back at the memory. That was Reycho. Finding wonder in everything, and vying for his attention at every opportunity.
"I drew this for you, Pochi."
"Reycho," he hissed. "We're supposed to be working."
"That's, like—boring. I'd rather draw."
He'd spent all of class today doodling in his notebook, ignoring the worksheets slid his way. He was reprimanded multiple times by the teachers for not doing his work, but by this point it was almost expected. Reycho was even less academically inclined than he was.
By the time the day was over, and they were settling down to hang out in their club, almost everyone had received a drawing from Reycho.
"Heyyy, why didn't I get one?!" Kansai demanded.
Reycho looked a bit busy. He was chewing on the end of his pencil.
"I already gave you one."
"What?! No you didn't."
"Yeah I did, you lost it."
"No, I didn't!" Kansai glanced at Chuko. "...did I?"
"You lost the last one he gave you," Chuko told him. "Remember when we had to clean out your locker?"
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh," Chuko scoffed. "It was disgusting. Just like you, actually. We found Reycho's drawing, and it looked like a discarded napkin."
Everyone visibly cringed at the memory, including Pochi himself. The tips of Kansai's ears turned pink.
"Well! I'm a changed man!"
"No you're not," Tattsun said flatly.
"You are neither changed, nor a man," Aniki added.
The insult was punctuated by just how deep the older boy's voice had gotten. Everyone started giggling.
"Aw, screw you guys!"
Kansai threw his arms up and stormed out of the classroom.
"Kansaiii," Pai called, "we were just jokinggg!"
But he wasn't having any of it. The room got a little quiet in his absence, until Tattsun spoke up again.
"He forgot his backpack."
"That idiot." Chuko rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not bringing it to him, so he better hope he comes back."
Reycho tugged on her bracelet. She looked a little startled. No one had even noticed he'd moved.
"Huh?"
"I did make one for him," he said, like he was sharing a secret. "But I want you to hold onto it, so he doesn't lose it."
Chuko seemed a little flustered.
"I-I'm not his keeper...! But... fine. Only because I know what'll happen to it if I don't."
She snatched the paper from his hands. Her hardened expression softened at the sight of it. But she still glanced up with a frown and said,
“Don’t expect me to start doing this all the time! I’m not his keeper.”
Reycho smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Pochi found himself distracted by it.
“I know, Chuko.”
“Keeper of his heart, maybe.” Nyoro giggled behind her hand.
Chuko made a vexed noise beyond comprehension.
“Ehhhh?!?! Y-You can’t just say stuff like that! Shut up!”
Everyone was laughing again. Any talk of the drawings or keepers thereof were summarily forgotten.
That being said.
Pochi glanced at his desk without getting up. The sun was going down, and he could feel that his body was officially getting “tired.” His processes were slowing down to conserve energy for the next dawn.
Reycho’s drawing was sitting on his desk. He could visualize it without having to look at it.
The long edge was ripped because Reycho had torn the page from his schoolbook. Centered on the greyish sheet of paper was a depiction of Reycho and himself holding hands.
Reycho had drawn himself in orange pencil crayon while he’d drawn Pochi with a stark blue. They were both depicted with far more friendship bracelets than either of them owned, and drawn with smiles that were probably a little too big for their faces. Just the thought of it made Pochi feel warm inside.
These warm feelings were the reason why he'd changed sides. MAIK could never have begun to fathom it, despite its “greatness.”
Sometimes Pochi wondered if he could have convinced MAIK to release humans and their emotions peacefully if Yuki hadn't split from it.
The warmth chased off the foreboding feeling in Pochi’s gut. Reycho had just made a mistake by shoving him. Everything would be back to normal by tomorrow.
If that were true, then why wouldn't Reycho’s smile reach his eyes?
His room was dark.
Pochi closed his eyes, allowing his fatigue to ward off anymore tiresome processing.
“You're just being a worrywart,” Vanilla would tell him, if she were here right now.
He decided to believe that.
…
..
.
Reycho's room was empty.
Pochi couldn't believe it. He snatched the yellow hat left on his counterpart’s bed, his eyes searching frantically like the boy might somehow be hiding under it.
The bed was perfectly made. Pochi ripped the covers off. Reycho wasn't hiding under there.
Clutching the hat in his fist, he sprinted to the living room.
The floor was clear. Their toybox was locked like it was every night.
Pochi tore the cushions from the couch. When he saw them all laid out on the floor, he almost laughed at himself. The sound bubbled up in his throat and died.
What had he expected?
Numbly, he made his way to the foyer, where they kept their shoes. Reycho's spot on the rack was empty, and his slippers were left haphazardly by the door.
For some reason, Pochi couldn't quite bring himself to believe Reycho had just left for school early.
Not without his hat.
Pochi slid against the wall and sat down. Reycho’s hat laid in his lap, feverishly grasped between his fingers. He slumped his head back, defeated. His eyes wandered up to accuse the sky.
Why didn't you warn me?
At this point, he didn't expect an answer. He did not receive one.
Such was his luck.
He really had not considered that he could be living in a timeline where the Otherworlder did not yet possess all of the solutions.
There was probably another version of him out there that the Otherworlder was showing this exact memory to right now.
...
Irony was funny.
He just wished it didn't hurt so much.
..
.
Pochi had to correct himself.
There was only one thing he could never forgive Reycho for.
And that was leaving.