37. The Whale's Blowhole
With the force of a gushing fountain, Kana and I were propelled by intense water pressure and hurled out through the hole.
For a moment, I feared we might plummet outside the whale, but thanks to its massive size and gravity, we safely landed on its head instead of becoming lost in space.
There were already many others there.
If there were about a hundred humanoid robots inside the cabin, close to a thousand were up here.
Yet the whale's back was astonishingly vast, like an expansive garden, with plenty of room to spare.
The humanoid robots were setting up tents, arranging chairs, boiling water in kettles around campfires, brewing coffee, lounging as if on a beach vacation while gazing at the galaxy, or reading books.
Some jogged lightly for actuator health, while others, perhaps caught in a runner's high, wore excited expressions and seemed ready to leap into the far reaches of space, defying the whale's gravity.
"There are all kinds of humanoid robots here," I muttered, a bit exasperated.
Perhaps sensing my mood dip—crowds aren't my thing—Kana's eyes lit up in contrast. Her extroverted MBTI personality shone through, and she came alive like a fish in water.
"It feels amazing!" she exclaimed.
"The whale's back is so exhilarating!"
Meanwhile, I felt like a fish washed ashore, languid and out of place, but seeing Kana's vibrant profile erased that feeling instantly.
"Yeah, it feels great," I said, not lying but speaking from the heart.
"Kana," I suggested suddenly.
"Let's walk. I want to hear your performance."
"Yeah, let's walk!"
And so, we began strolling across the vast expanse of the whale's back.
At first, the surface was so smooth it felt slippery and hard to walk on, but we gradually got used to it. When the voltage of our bare feet harmonized perfectly with the whale's surface, it became easier to walk than on the Moon's surface.
Soon, I began to genuinely enjoy the act of walking, savoring the stroll with Kana.
There was no need to run like silver-addicted runners caught in a high.
To an onlooker, it might have been hard to tell if we were walking or standing still, so slow was our pace across the whale's back.
"You can walk a bit faster, you know," I suggested.
Kana shook her head quietly.
"That would make the sound too loud. Everyone would hear it."
"Who cares? Your performance has gotten as good as the master's. I'd want everyone to hear it."
Still, Kana shook her head.
Her eyes held the resolve of a soldier on a mission.
She looked straight at me and said, "I don't want anyone but you to hear it, Neo-kun."
"…"
"Just you. I want you to hear my performance."
Her whisper felt like a confession, and I gave a subtle nod, visible only to her.
Then, her barefoot performance began.
It was a melody I'd never heard before.
"Is this an original piece?" I asked, realizing it suddenly.
"You noticed!" Kana replied, surprised but continuing her performance.
"Yeah, I composed it while looking at the scenery outside from inside the cabin, inspired by the cosmic landscape."
"It's a really great piece," I said honestly.
Kana flashed a joyful smile for a moment, but it quickly faded.
Her expression gradually darkened, sinking into gloom.
The heaviness was so palpable it seemed to unsettle the mood of the surrounding humanoid robots.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Kana stopped her performance abruptly, fixing me with a sharp, determined gaze.
"Neo-kun," she said.
"I actually know."
"Know what?"
As a humanoid robot, I felt a sensation like holding my breath, as if I'd glimpsed a forbidden secret, like a minor caught in an illicit act.
And then, she confessed.
No, she admitted.
"That you're not human."