"Why didn't Naota eat anything?" Gaku puzzled.
"He couldn't eat it," Masashi said.
There were people who lost their appetite when they had a big responsibility, and Masashi knew that Naota was that kind. That was why he had invited him to take part in the part-time job—ever since that incident, Naota had been locked away inside himself.
The robot that he had boasted about controlling had been using him as a bullet. Though that was pretty amazing in itself…
Masashi thought that Naota held an unusually high ideal for his self-image.
For a while, his friends gazed worriedly at the door through which Naota had just left.
After leaving the classroom, Naota stood in the corridor, staring out at the outside world with a blank expression.
He really had no appetite anymore. He had an empty stomach, but he didn't have any desire to eat. Furthermore, no matter how much he ate, he wouldn't be able to fill the sense of loss he was feeling now.
The town was full of the white mist coming from MM Factory. Day and night, the white smoke came pouring out, covering the city.
I knew it, Naota thought. I always knew the white smioke was at fault for taking all the color from the world. It's the bringer of nothingness, changing everything in the world to gray.
Even if he looked straight up, he could no longer see blue sky, just overcast white fog. It had enveloped the town as if there was nothing existing in the outside world. Maybe there really was nothing outside this town. Maybe this place was a little island floating in another dimension. If so, that meant Naota always would be stuck in this place with his feeling of loss.
But then, where had they gone, the housemaid and the stupid robot? After the incident, Haruko and Canti disappeared from the Nandaba home, and the family hadn't heard from the two since.
But that was to be expected, perhaps. The duo were wanted fugitives now. There were posters with their photos posted up on the bulletins and walls in the town, all declaring that the whole incident with the giant robot had been their fault.
In the underground war room of the Department of Interstellar Immigration, Amarao and his subordinate, Kitsurubami, were watching a monitor that was displaying the giant towering hand next to the MM factory.
At that moment, the computer terminal display Kitsurubami was operating displayed the central department's analysis report. They finally had data with specification for the towering hand, which had been compared against data from other MM robots.
Kitsurubami whispered as she read the report, "It really is a hand."
"A hand."
The first answer from the analysis results said that it was a giant manipulator, and Amarao had responded angrily because they'd already known that. In fact, he had already worked out what the hand was for.
That MM factory on top of the hill… the residents of Mabase were well used to seeing it now, this factory that looked like an iron. It was unavoidable. However, what would their reaction be if they were to find out it wasn't a factory that looked like an iron, rather an iron that looked like a factory?
The meaning of the towering hand became obvious then: It was an enormous hand for an enormous iron. The iron-shaped building even had a proper handle; in other words, the hand had a place to grab the iron.
"Is it going to grab it?"
"I think it wants to grab it."
"It's so obvious, huh? I mean, it looks exactly like an iron."
"Yep, it really was an iron all along."
It was an incredibly dangerous situation, but Amarao and his team had been saved by the propaganda—or the successful manipulation of information that stated there were two criminals who had looted in-development MM machines and run wild with them.
The petrified giant machine is not of an explosive nature, nor does it pose any radiation risk. MM is accepting responsibility and compensating the town's victims. The criminals are now on the run.
That "criminal'' pair was Haruko and Canti. Amarao's team had set them up, of course, to hide any government involvement. However, that concealment had its limits. If this towering hand moved, then the propaganda creators would not be able to escape the finger pointing.
They had to do something—and soon.
The analysis report continued. One of the monitors held a freeze-frame of the moment when Canti had beaten though the giant robot with a guitar, along with an image of one of the internal components the towering hand had shed—but even when they zoomed in on that picture and applied a CG touch-up, the object wasn't very clear.
Regardless, Amarao's team knew what the part that had flown out was. Finally, they had some useful information: The analysis results in the central office confirmed their suspicion.
"If that's the terminal core that controls the giant robot, then that explains why it hasn't moved."
The so-called "terminal core" unit was like an electronic brain that controlled the MM robot. Furthermore, the report noted that, due to significant differences in the electronic nerve center of this robot, an alternative would not work.
In other words, there was no concern that MM might get another one to move the hand, and that gave them some options for negotiating with MM.
"We have to make finding the terminal core our main priority," Amarao ordered his subordinates. And the war room went on red alert.
After school, rain started coming down, but it didn't clear away the clouds. Instead, the rain clouds and the mist mixed together to make a solid gray block.
Naota was at Mabase Bridge, on the way home from school. He pressed the canned black coffee button on the vending machine, and as he reached into the inset where the can dispensed, he spotted Mamimi under the bridge.
Although it was pouring rain, Mamimi was not carrying an umbrella, as usual. Already, her clothes and hair were soaking wet and sticking to her body, but she didn't care; she was focused on peering into the long grass. She was probably looking for that stray cat she had called Takkun.
"I never carry an umbrella."
"What do you do when it rains then?"
"I don't mind getting a little wet."
As he thought back on a conversation they'd had before, Naota yanked on the pull ring of the canned coffee.
Mamimi had left him in front of that coffee shop. Mamimi had refused Naota's kiss. They hadn't seen each other even once since.
Masashi, Gaku, and Ninamori—who were walking home together with Naota from school—also noticed the rain-soaked Mamimi.
"Hey, look over there." Gaku pointed to her. "Isn't that Naota's wife?"
Naota had wanted to show Mamimi that he could pilot Canti, and that he was a man now. But in truth, Naota had been nothing more than a bullet. Now that Mamimi knew as much, Naota wondered what she thought of him.
Naota told himself that Mamimi didn't matter anymore; then, leaving his classmates there, he walked off alone.
"Hey Naota, is it okay to leave her out there?" Gaku called out.
Silently, Masashi had watched Naota go. But as she gazed down at the rain-drenched Mamimi from under her umbrella, Ninamori wore a complicated expression. The cat that Mamimi was looking for was in Ninamori's house now; Ninamori was looking after it.
Sorry, but it was your fault…
Last week, if Ninamori hadn't taken the cat home, it would have died. It would have most definitely starved to death. Ninamori had come across the freezing cat cowering in the rain. When she'd picked it up, she'd found it had injured one of its legs, and its skinny body was convulsing. It didn't even have the energy to cry out. And when she'd realized it was the cat that Mamimi always was carrying around with her, Ninamori had become angry. She'd immediately decided that she would take care of it herself.