30. Arrival
Three years later.
I snapped awake from a long, deep sleep-like walk.
The reason was that I sensed Kana, who felt like an extension of my own body on my back, stirring from sleep mode.
"You awake?"
When I spoke, my voice came out surprisingly normal.
I'd been walking silently for three years, so I was a little worried that my throat's speaker might have rusted and stopped working, but the clear sound it produced put me at ease.
"Oh, sorry!"
Kana hurriedly lifted her head, which had been resting on my shoulder like a pillow, and made a gesture as if wiping drool before continuing.
"I fell asleep. How many seconds was I out?"
I considered telling her the truth—94,608,003 seconds—but felt it would be tactless, so I shared only part of the truth.
"Three seconds."
"Three seconds?!" Kana exclaimed. "Really, I'm so sorry! You kept walking alone for three whole seconds?"
"Well, yeah."
"I'm sorry…" Her voice trembled with tears. "I'm really, really sorry. You must've been lonely, right?"
"Nah, I wasn't lonely at all."
"That's a lie."
"It's not a lie," I emphasized. "I'm human, so I can lie freely, but this is the truth."
"But…"
To reassure the hesitant Kana, I decided to speak my heart honestly.
"It's fine. Your body warmth kept me company. That voltage warmth of yours."
"…"
I could feel the tension in Kana's neck loosen, as if my sincerity had reached her.
"Well, if that's the case, I guess it's okay," she said.
"Yeah, it was nice."
Kana began tidying her face and hair, which had become disheveled from her deep sleep.
"Ugh, what's this…?"
She let out a surprised gasp, so I activated the camera on the back of my head to check on her.
Fine, stardust-like powder had settled on Kana's hair and shoulders like powdered snow.
When she brushed it off, it shimmered like a tiny aurora, swaying in the breeze like a tissue and spreading around us. Some of it got into my nose, and I sneezed involuntarily. The aurora flared with even brighter colors, enveloping us like a sacred wedding veil.
After the blessing-like phenomenon passed, I finally spoke about our situation.
"Look ahead."
Kana obediently shifted her gaze forward.
There, the starport came into view.
It was a building floating in the air, resembling a retro diner that didn't serve alcohol—a classic coffee shop from days gone by.
After a three-year journey, we had finally reached the starport.
The old-fashioned building, like a brick mansion, was covered in deep green vines. Soft vanilla-colored light spilled from its windows, beckoning weary travelers with a gentle glow, as if an elderly grandmother were reading fairy tales to her grandchildren.
In one corner, there was a waterfall-like feature where a nearly transparent, dazzling emerald liquid—likely something toxic to humans, like sulfuric acid—flowed into an artificial pond, creating a private pool-like puddle on the lunar surface.
There, I saw a few humanoid robots playing in the water, completely bare.
In any case, Kana and I had finally arrived at this floating diner, the starport.