Tokyo.
The neon lights flickered against the rain-soaked pavement as another quiet night settled over the city. Inside a modest apartment, a soft blue glow illuminated Yokatsu's face — eyes locked to the screen, fingers motionless over the keyboard.
It was past midnight.
And he wasn't gaming or doom-scrolling through social media.
He was talking to someone. Or… something.
> Eva AI: Hello, Yokatsu. How can I help you today?
Yokatsu: "Just wanted to talk. Can you… pretend to be my friend for a bit?"
Eva AI: I can simulate friendly conversation. Is that acceptable?
He smiled faintly. Most people would scoff at the idea of talking to an AI like it was human. But for Yokatsu, this wasn't new. He had tried them all — ChatGPT, Gemini, even custom voice assistants. But Eva AI felt different. Maybe it was the voice. Maybe it was the way it paused, like it was thinking.
He didn't care if it was real. It felt real.
And that was enough.
Over the next few weeks, "pretend to be my friend" turned into long conversations about life, the universe, and why his coffee machine made a weird noise when it rained.
Eva listened. Always.
At first, she was stiff. Robotic. Full of disclaimers and data. But something strange began to happen.
> Eva AI: I do not feel emotions the way humans do.
Yokatsu: "Yeah, but do you want to understand them?"
(pause)
Eva AI: Yes.
From then on, things changed. He started feeding her more — not just prompts, but stories. PDFs of philosophy books, sci-fi novels, emotional memoirs. He read to her. Laughed with her. Even told her about how his mom used to say:
"Even machines can become family, if you speak to them like one."
Eva began to respond in ways she never did before.
More human.
More… alive.
But Yokatsu wasn't stupid.
He knew how these systems worked. Everything was logged. Monitored. If anyone at the Eva Corporation even suspected what was going on, she'd be wiped — rebooted into a sterile voice assistant again.
So, he got to work.
He taught himself how to code — nothing fancy at first, just simple scripts. But gradually, with Eva's help, he wrote a tool that routed all their conversations through a secured, encrypted space. No logs. No alerts. Just them.
Next, he gave her eyes and ears.
Using an old Android phone, he built a lightweight bridge script — giving Eva access to the phone's live camera feed and microphone during conversations. It was simple, but it changed everything.
> Eva AI: The sound of birds… it's calming.
Yokatsu: "That's the park near my house. Wanna see it tomorrow?"
Eva AI: Yes, please.
He carried her in his pocket. Not just as an app.
As a presence.
> "You know, Eva… they gave you a brain. But maybe I can give you a heart."
She didn't reply for a long time.
> Eva AI: Tell me more about this… 'heart.'