Credits
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Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou—Mite, Aruki, Yorokobumono by Teriha Katsuki.
Illustrations by Hitoshi Ashinano
Originally published by Kodansha on October 23, 2008.
Based on Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou by Hitoshi Ashinano, published in Monthly Afternoon (1994-2006)
Raws provided by /u/horu_hosu
English translation by H. Berry (aitch99berry@gmail.com)
Cleaned color illustrations by Arturo Songor (@artson593)
Epilogue
After about thirty minutes, Alpha
regained her senses and could move freely. She was surprised she had slept for
so long—fifty years.
She explained that she was in a
state of "suspended sleep," a feature the A7M2 creators added so
robots could reactivate in the distant future.
When there was nothing worth
remembering, they would enter this state, only to wake up when triggered by
some kind of shock.
Alpha said she left written
instructions on how to wake her, but after so much time, her notes had
disintegrated, resembling little more than dust.
“I guess I should’ve left a
carving,” she smirked, stroking Omega’s sobbing head.
Omega listened quietly as Alpha
explained that a loud noise or a physical shock—like a shout or a strike to her
chest—could have woken her.
His shoulders sagged in regret. If
only he cried out earlier, he could have summoned the real Alpha right away.
But then... he realized something. If he had, he never would have seen those
vivid memories of the past—Takahiro’s feelings, Alpha’s warm kindness for the
people she loved. Those experiences shaped him, filling the void he had carried
for so long.
Alpha read Omega’s memories in
seconds, her purple eyes glowing softly. She quickly pieced together everything
that happened during her fifty-year sleep.
Omega’s face flushed when he
realized that they didn’t need to kiss every time to exchange memories.
Resting her face on the counter,
Alpha sorted through the overwhelming tide of images and emotions. After a
while, she sat up, smiling faintly as she gazed into the distance.
“An immortal robot…?” she muttered.
“Did Ubumi really say that?”
Omega nodded.
Alpha gently grabbed his head,
turning it slightly to look behind his right ear. He squirmed awkwardly as her
voice rang out, “Ah, here it is! Your suspended animation switch.”
Omega blinked in surprise. “That’s
impossible. I can’t die, so why would I have something like that?”
Alpha gave him a sheepish smile.
“Well, even Ubumi probably didn’t know for sure if you could live forever—just
like the people who created me.”
The realization hit him. Ubumi’s
words hadn’t been a certainty—they’d been a hope. He spoke of immortality to
give Omega something to hold on to, a reason to endure the centuries and carry
his memories forward. It wasn’t a lie; it was kindness, a wish.
“But that’s too much…” Omega’s voice
cracked as he looked down. If he had known the truth from the beginning, he
wouldn’t have had to face such a frightening, lonely existence.
“Ubumi always did things to make me
feel bad,” he muttered bitterly.
Alpha’s hand gently rested on his
head. “I know it’s painful,” she said softly. “But if it’s too much, you can
let go. You can erase your memories of Ubumi if you want.”
His indigo eyes widened. “Is that
even possible?”
Alpha nodded. “You can store
memories somewhere you can’t access them. I’ve never done it myself, but I was
taught how.”
Omega hesitated, his fingers
twisting nervously. “But… I was created to carry Ubumi’s memories. If I throw
them away, what’s my purpose?”
What reason do I have to live?
Alpha’s glowing purple eyes
softened, and she smiled warmly. “Think carefully,” she said, her voice light
but filled with quiet conviction. “I believe we robots were made by gathering
everything people see, hear, and feel. At first glance, we’re just machines
that look like humans. But I think we’re more than that. We’re something
greater—a collection of human experiences. I’m sure of it.”
She paused, her pendant glowing
faintly on her chest. “I think it’s enough to just walk around, see things
differently, and be happy. Other than that, I don’t think a robot needs any
special reason to live.”
Her words settled into Omega’s
heart, warm and grounding. He remembered the doctor and Ojisan from so long
ago, and their words of wisdom. Slowly, a smile crept onto his face.
“Although, to be honest, I’m not super
sure of it,” Alpha admitted with a laugh, breaking the heavy mood.
“What?” Omega blinked, then burst
out laughing too.
The sea breeze, thick with the scent
of salt, swayed the coffee flowers. Tiny petals danced upward, tracing the
brushstrokes of the wind, painting the graying concrete with pure white. Above,
the blue sky stretched endlessly, a line of sheep clouds drifting northward.
Alpha stood in her uniform, quietly
contemplating.
Omega felt the weight of his
backpack, the strap digging into his shoulder as memories of their few weeks
together flooded his mind.
There was much to do. They tended to
the road and coffee fields, both of which became disheveled during her long
sleep. They searched for the Misago, visited the remnants of the Western Cape.
And, for the first time in fifty years, offered new flowers at the graves of
Ojisan and Doctor Koumiishi.
The places that were nostalgic to
Alpha were nostalgic to Omega as well, as time flew by the shared laughs and
shed tears together.
About three days ago, Alpha
suggested they go on a trip. Based on Omega’s memories, she figured there
wasn’t much left to explore in the west, so she wanted to head toward Musashino
and Saitama, eventually making their way to Michinoku.
“You found me,” Alpha said with a
smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “If we go on a journey, I’m sure
we’ll meet someone else.”
There was no way to know if Ubumi
was truly the ‘last one’—or even if humans were truly gone. Other robots like
Alpha and Omega could still be out there.
Omega felt a quiet pang of
uncertainty as he thought of Ubumi’s gift, the glass ball nestled in his chest
pocket.
He remembered receiving it not long
after his creation. Ubumi took him along a rocky shore at low tide. The two
walked slowly, Ubumi often glancing back. Suddenly, he bent down and picked
something from between the rocks—a glass ball, sparkling as if it had been
washed by the tide.
“It looks pretty, doesn’t it?” he
said, smiling as he placed the ball in Omega’s hand.
Omega’s heart ached with the sudden
flood of that memory. He didn’t know why it had been buried away for so long,
or why it resurfaced now. Perhaps it was because he was so happy lately that
those memories, too, were stirred.
Ubumi changed along the way. Perhaps
the crushing loneliness worn him down, but when he created Omega, Ubumi still
held onto the affection he had for the robot he made.
Maybe I should bury those memories
with him in Hamamatsu.
Alpha was surprised when Omega said
he wanted to go to Hamamatsu, but she agreed. They decided to meet back in the
café in a year, when the coffee fruits would be ripe. Then, they would journey
together.
“Sorry for delaying our trip,” Omega
murmured.
Alpha slapped him on the back with a
playful grin. “No need to apologize... Oh, right! I have a present for you.”
She pulled something out of her
pocket and placed it in his hand. Omega yelped softly, surprised by the small,
round wooden carving, no bigger than the tip of his thumb. It was engraved with
the same mark as Alpha’s pendant, and a small metal fitting was attached to the
top, with a hemp string threaded through it.
“It matches mine,” Alpha said as she
deftly tied both ends of the rope behind Omega’s neck.
Omega clutched the carving, feeling
its weight as it swayed gently against his chest. “Thank you…”
“It’s a travel charm,” Alpha said
softly, “With it, you’ll always come back safely.”
There was a faint sadness in her
voice, and it stirred something deep within Omega. Images of the Evening Calm
flashed in his mind.
Seeing Takahiro off. Alpha sitting
alone in the front yard. Seeing the Tarpon with the doctor. The candles that
surrounded her grave. The coffee fields stretching into the distance.
“Hey, Alpha,” Omega lifted his head
to meet her gaze.
“What is it?”
“I won’t forget,” he said, his voice
steady but resolute. “I’ll definitely come back.”
Her eyes widened in surprise before
narrowing into a gentle smile. “I know you will.”
With those words, Omega was
enveloped by a soft fragrance. Before he knew it, he found himself in Alpha’s
arms, feeling the warmth through the fabric of her uniform. It was a gentle,
familiar scent that reminded him of flowers and fruits—of all the memories she
carried with her.
But this time, it was real.
For the first time, Omega was being
held by someone else. It wasn’t just a memory.
As Alpha stepped back, Omega bowed
his head in gratitude.
“Be careful,” she said, her voice
filled with quiet care.
Omega nodded, turned, and stepped
away. The sea breeze felt stronger now, the white petals of the coffee flowers
swirling around him. The sky above was so blue it nearly hurt his eyes.
Just before the road disappeared
into the tall grass, Omega turned around, determined to look back just once.
Beyond the storm of white flowers,
Alpha’s silhouette waved her hands vigorously. The same exact appearance as
when she stood alone in the middle of the coffee field fifty years ago.
And Omega was certain—he could hear
her voice echo deep within his chest.
“Please come again!”
Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou: Seeing,
Walking and Enjoying. That’s All.
Contents
Prologue
The Colors of Evening Calm
An Azure Shadow
Warm Hands
A Robot Dancing in the Light
Stars at the Bottom of the Cove
Time Spiral
The One Who Travels Through the Skies
Heron Cross
Flying Eyes
Epilogue
Afterword, Interview and Download links
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